Can you imagine being stuck in space completely alone with only the corpses of your friends for company, and the first living thing you meet after 46 years of that misery is a fucking weird alien creature who just rolls up with crazy advanced tech and goes "hi let's work together" and makes it possible for you to save your world through the power of friendship and molecular biology. AND THEN you find out that in this creature's language, its name means "mercy". Happened to my good friend Rocky btw
Chapter 19: ‘She says to him, Listen to the little birdies, and he listens to the common sparrows talking in the hedge. He listens as they argue back and forth, their dialect of nature’
Hi, everyone! Here’s a new chapter! The lovebirds need to talk… Also, I will have to skip an update on Friday cause I’ll be on vacation! The updates will resume as per usual next Monday.
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU), Sequel to Love in Verses, dadzier.
Warnings: fluff (a disgusting amount), angst for secondary characters, smut so 18+ only There are no warnings concerning the pregnancy (no infertility issues, no miscarriage, only tooth-rotting fluff)
Summary: Your life is perfect. You're married to the love of your life, your career is thriving as you work at Trinity College, in Dublin. You've settled down with your husband, and it seems that life is perfect these days. And yet, there's a tugging at your heart whenever you see baby clothes, a longing for something more. What if you wanted to be a mother? Are you ready to let this new joy enter your life?
Word Count: 4091
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
Learning to Talk
On Magnolia Avenue there are no magnolias. Someone bought
the house of the one survivor. All morning I heard the chainsaw
sever its limbs from root to bud. No more scattered flowers, star city.
No pink galaxy. Now the yard is a parking space, one Jeep SUV,
one older car. Next door a woman comes out, late afternoon,
a child in her arms. She speaks low, as if there’s just the two of them.
She says to him, Listen to the little birdies, and he listens to
the common sparrows talking in the hedge. He listens as they argue
back and forth, their dialect of nature, as the street clatters with commuters
taking a shortcut home. She says: Listen. And he turns his head to follow
the fugitive motion, the small streaked wings unfolding, folding,
the relentless chirp from a tiny blunt beak, the sound almost within reach.
Minnie Bruce Pratt, The Dirt She Ate: New and Selected Poems, 2003
When Andrew woke up, you were already making breakfast. Nothing surprising, he was a night owl, after all, meaning that he tended to get up later than you did. The house was filled with the scent of coffee and butter melting on hot toasts. His stomach made a growling noise in response, and it forced him out of bed.
He was cold, slipping out of the covers. His brain was foggy still, and a little loopy from his impressive height; he bumped into the doorframe as he walked out of the bedroom, cursing under his breath and rubbing at his painful head.
You were there alright, in your pink pyjama pants and one of his warm hoodies. He walked over to you without even thinking, drawn in like a moth to a flame. He wrapped his arms around you as you were setting the table, snuggling into your warmth. So warm…
You chuckled, hugging him back.
“Good morning,” you mumbled into his cheek, before dropping kisses there.
“Morning.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“Hmmm…”
You chuckled.
“Oh… it’s a ‘hmmm’ kind of morning, huh?”
He nodded, snuggling even closer, making you laugh fondly at him.
“You’re not quite awake yet, are you?” you asked, your voice quiet and gentle while you massaged the back of his neck softly, making his entire body relax in the process.
He shook his head, before dropping kisses across your temple.
You were always so fucking warm in the morning. Andrew didn’t know why, but he was thankful for it every single day…
“Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving!”
He finally let you go, although not without some serious grumpy pouting, which only made you laugh, which only made him grumpier in his pouting. He rubbed at his tired eyes as you poured him some coffee. In the light still made golden by the young sun, wearing his clothes, moving around that kitchen that belonged to the both of you…
You opened the jar of jam, picked up a knife to prepare your toast… and froze.
He sent you a questioning look.
“Alright?” he grumbled, picking up a knife and some butter, along with one of the toasts you had already set on the table.
But you didn’t answer. Instead, you let the knife and toast drop to the table, and then the floor, and sprinted out of the room.
What the…
A thud noise, and then he heard you throwing up from across the house.
“Shit…”
He should have been faster at reacting to you being sick, but he wasn’t quite awake yet. He got up, his head spinning a little again as he did so too fast. Picked a glass that he filled with water, grabbed the pills you had bought in a pharmacy a few days ago to help with morning sickness. He needed to get used to this, or to be more precise, to be better at this. You had been sick almost every morning for two weeks straight now. He needed to be better at taking care of you in these moments.
He tried to force his body to work faster, but his mind wasn’t clear enough for that. Still, he finally made his way to the bathroom, found a closed door.
“Babe?” he called out.
You were crying, he could hear it in your voice as you answered.
“Don’t come i…”
But you were interrupted by your nausea, and Andrew turned the door handle, ignoring your protests.
You were folded over the toilets, throwing up again. He put the medication and water by the sink, before using the hair tie that was always wrapped around his wrist to get your hair out of the way.
He sat down behind you, not saying a word. He rubbed your back softly, soothingly, while you slowly felt better. He handed you some tissues, helped you up once you were strong enough to stand, even though your legs still felt like jelly. He handed you the water, let you wash your mouth while he got your toothbrush ready. You washed your teeth, then gulped the medicine he gave you.
“Back to bed,” were the only words he let out, before guiding you back to the bedroom, an arm around your waist to steady you.
You lied down again, heaving an exhausted sigh as your head hit your pillow.
“Pain?” he asked, his voice hoarse and low.
“No, not really. I just feel… sick and disgusting.”
He hummed, nodded.
“Call if you need anything,” he mumbled, rubbing at his tired eyes.
“Thanks, babe.”
He nodded, headed to the kitchen to eat his breakfast, carefully listening to the sounds of the house in case you needed him. And he tried to make his brain clear that fog, but he couldn’t. Despite his strong coffee, he simply couldn’t. When you walked out of the bedroom forty-five minutes later, rubbing at your reddened eyes, he was still struggling with forming complete sentences.
You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck though, waited for him to push back his chair so you could sit on his laps and snuggle into his embrace. He let out a long exhale.
That he could do. Showing you he loved you, comforting you… that he could do…
“Thanks for taking care of me.”
“Don’t thank me for that.”
He rubbed your back in large, soothing circles that made you melt into him.
“I don’t think I’m gonna get used to morning sickness,” you sighed.
“Me neither. But it’ll soon pass. It’s just the first few weeks, right?”
“If we’re lucky…”
“We’re gonna be lucky.”
You nodded, burying your face in his neck.
He felt you tensing before you spoke again, and he knew he wouldn’t like where this nice moment was heading.
“We need to talk about last night, darling…”
He took in a deep breath.
“Now?”
“It won’t be easier later, will it?”
He reached up to push a strand of hair behind your ear, before gently cupping your face.
“Alright… but before we do that… I need to ask you something.”
“Okay. What is it?”
He bit on his lip, tried to find a way to articulate his feelings. His worries. This morning was the perfect example. He was trying to be here for you, but sometimes he wasn’t sure it was enough… How could he say that?
“It’s just… about you being pregnant, I…”
He cleared his throat, wanted to start over, but couldn’t. He tried to suppress the frustration he felt against himself. He was a bloody poet, for Christ’s sake…
“I have no idea how that feels for you, and will never know how that feels for you. And… sometimes, it’s a little hard for me to read you. Like… to know clearly what you need to feel better… Like this morning… I should have guessed that the scent of toasts was going to make you sick. I should have been there with you faster. So… I… I’d really like you to tell me when you need anything. Like… more explicitly than usual. Cause I have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to having a baby, so… I may be at a loss sometimes. But I want to be here for you, and make your life as easy as possible so… Can you just… explicitly tell me what to do to help if you see that I’m being dumb and I don’t get it on my own? And I’m sorry if at one point I don’t… understand what you need me to do. It won’t be on purpose, or because I don’t pay attention to you. I just… I’m just not used to it.”
He winced, before rubbing at his eyes, and looking at you again. Your expression had turned from blank to emotional, and he wasn’t sure why…
Wait… why were there tears in your eyes? Were you crying? Had he hurt your feelings…?
“Christ, Andy… you can’t act like that…”
He frowned hard.
“I didn’t mean to be offensive or…”
“Offensive? You’re literally the nicest person in the world…”
He raised a surprised eyebrow, which turned into two surprised eyebrows when you wrapped your arms around his neck and held him tight again.
He heard you sniffling.
“Are you crying?” he asked, a little stunned.
“Hormones,” was your only explanation.
“I see…”
“I’m so lucky to have you,” you let out in a breath. “I love you so fucking much…”
“I love you too.”
“You were perfect this morning, by the way.”
“Really? I’m a little out of it today…”
“You were perfect.”
“I want to make sure I’m taking care of you the way you need me to.”
“You’re taking such good care of me, baby. No one has ever taken care of me the way you do.”
He let out a long sigh, relaxing into your embrace.
“Good… that’s grand, like… But… tell me if you need anything, okay? Don’t wait for me to figure it out cause… that’s new territory. I need you to help me with this, okay?”
You nodded, but he insisted.
“I know you. You won’t be bothering me, and you won’t be too much, okay? You’re pregnant, for God’s sake! You need extra help and care for growing a literal human inside of you. Besides… you’re never too much. I love you, you could never be too much.”
He knew you. Knew the words were hitting all your insecurities, remnants from that past relationship with Frank you had put behind you, but still… still, he knew there were traces left. There would always be a few imprints here and there. Sam had left those on him too, even if you had slowly but surely dulled them.
You took in a shaky inhale.
“Thank you,” you whispered into his neck.
“Don’t thank me for that.”
He heaved a sigh, gently pulling away.
“Alright… on with the other conversation…”
You nodded, stood up to go sit on the opposite side of the table, needing to put some distance between the two of you, or you would both get too emotional and wouldn’t be able to communicate properly. You both knew this, and so Andrew accepted to see you leaving his embrace to go sit in your kitchen chair.
“Do you want to talk about Alex and Siobhán first, or the contract?” you asked him, and he winced at the mere thought.
“Which one is gonna be harder to go through?”
“The contract,” you didn’t hesitate for a second.
“Then… let’s get it over with.”
You took in a deep breath, while Andrew was crossing his arms before his chest.
“You should have told me about the offer.”
He nodded, but didn’t answer.
“I’m your wife! You can’t hide things like that from me!”
“I didn’t intend to hide it…”
“That’s what you did… for weeks…”
“I needed to decide on my own.”
“The choice would have still been yours…”
“No, it wouldn’t have been…”
“Because we would have discussed together how your choice might influence our relationship before you decided? What would have happened if you had said yes? You would have told me after signing your contract?”
“Of course not! Had I decided that I wanted to sign, I would have talked to you about it to take my final decision and give Chelsey an answer.”
“Why didn’t you do that to begin with?”
“I’ve told you why. I needed to make that choice on my own.”
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean by that.”
“I know what you would have said. You would have encouraged me to say yes.”
“Of course, I would have! I want you to be happy!”
“And that’s why I didn’t tell you. Because I didn’t know what would make me happy. Because I needed to figure that part out first. Because I didn’t want you to influence me on that.”
“Influence you… That sounds manipulative…”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Don’t do that. Don’t put words into my mouth.”
You both took a deep breath, feeling that the conversation could quickly turn ugly if you kept going in that direction. And that was the last thing Andrew wanted.
He let out a long exhale, unfolded his arms and leaned over the table, reaching in your direction.
“I didn’t act the way I acted with the intention to be… secretive, or dissimulative or anything like that. I simply needed some time on my own to decide what I wanted.”
“You should have at least told me before giving an answer to this agent!”
“Maybe, I should have. But it didn’t matter. I had taken my decision. And I didn’t want to discuss it with you and weigh the pros and cons or hear you encourage me to think more about it. I knew what I wanted, and it was simple, and I gave my answer. I had planned on telling you this week, so I could discuss it with the band next weekend. I just… needed to do this on my own. Had I reached another decision, I would have obviously talked to you about it and asked about your thoughts on this before giving the label an answer but… this decision doesn’t change our relationship or our lives at all…”
“It does though. Look at how Alex reacted…”
“This is not about Alex. This is not about the band. This is about you and me. And I’m staying, nothing changes. I’m flattered to have received such an offer, but my life will not change now that I’ve declined so…”
He shrugged, and waited for you to speak again. He hoped he had gotten his point across. He really hoped he had. And he hoped you weren’t angry…
It took you a moment to process his words, and he waited for you. He knew it was a lot to take in.
Finally, you heaved a sigh.
“I… I think I understand that… you needed to take that decision on your own. I get that. But I’m really uncomfortable with the idea that such a big thing happened for you and you didn’t tell me about it for weeks. Like… I feel… very bad about that.”
Slowly, he nodded.
“I understand that.”
“Like… imagine if the roles had been reversed. Would you like it if I was offered an amazing opportunity, and I didn’t tell you about it for weeks, and then took a decision and you only learnt about it because Siobhán dropped that bomb on you by mistake?”
He winced. When you put it like that…
“I’m sorry. I see how that looks for you. It just… didn’t feel like that on my end…”
You reached across the table, palm up. An offering. An olive branch. Andrew was quick to seize it.
“Next time something like that occurs… if you need to take some time to think about it on your own, just tell me. Tell me about what is going on, and tell me that you need some time to think before we discuss it together properly. But don’t let me in the dark, okay? Cause that… that feels like you hid it from me because you didn’t trust me with this.”
“It had nothing to do with trust. I’d trust you with my life. You are the person I trust the most on this earth. I just reckon that… we had different needs in that moment. I think… that the way I needed to go about this was not the way you needed me to go about this. And I’m sorry if it hurt you, it wasn’t my intention.”
You nodded, gave his fingers a squeeze.
“Just… talk to me next time, and I’ll give you the space you need, okay?”
Slowly, he nodded. He wasn’t convinced though. He knew you too well for that. He knew your first instinct would have been to encourage him and to tilt his decision towards accepting, even if it meant working harder on your relationship. And he didn’t want to be influenced this way… but your reaction was perfectly understandable too. He wouldn’t have liked it if the roles had been reversed and you would have gone behind his back for such an important matter…
“I promise, I will.”
You gave him a warm smile, heaving a relieved sigh.
“Now… about Alex and Siobhán…”
Andrew heaved a tired sigh.
“That’s a hell of a fucking mess…”
“Yeah…”
“Did you know that Siobhán wanted to break up with Alex?”
You bit on your lower lip, shrugged, but the way you were averting your eyes now said it all.
“She made me promise not to tell you a word about it,” you said in a hurry, and if he was annoyed, he tried not to be angry at you. A promise was a promise…
“Christ… for how long was she planning that?”
“She didn’t plan it,” you shook your head. “She just… she was thinking about it, but didn’t want to break up. I guess… she must have had enough yesterday.”
“So… you didn’t know she’d break up with him?”
“No, of course not. She simply… last time she told me about it, she was worried that this might become a possibility.”
“So… she’s been feeling like this for a while…”
“Yeah… I don’t know what changed in Alex but… he became much more… career-centred, I guess? And it made things harder for her. At one point they were talking babies and weddings, and then it was music, music, music…”
Andrew nodded, hummed in agreement.
“I know… when we got married, they were talking about babies. Alex mentioned it to me, told me he’d make me the godfather.”
He couldn’t refrain the sadness that passed through his features. Because he felt it too, that disconnection because of Alex’s career. Not to Siobhán’s extent, of course, but still… Andrew would have been lying had he claimed it hadn’t affected their friendship. Last night was the final straw…
“Will you two be okay?”
But Andrew didn’t answer just yet.
“I reckon Alex just… got really excited about touring with that band, do you remember? When he left for the US?”
“Of course, that’s when things changed for Siobhán too.”
“I think… he’s been chasing after that feeling again ever since he came back. And music commands a lot of sacrifices. I’m sorry Siobhán got caught in that mess and ended up as collateral damage.”
“But can’t he just… balance both his career and his personal life? After all… we also have demanding jobs that ask for us to travel and require long hours and sacrifices. But we’re managing that fine!”
“It’s very different, babe… First, we’re both academics, we understand the other’s needs when it comes to our careers. I won’t get mad at you for working on an article on a Sunday afternoon, and you won’t be mad at me if I grade some essays at night. And besides… our jobs don’t require us to leave for months.”
“No, you’re right… we’ve never been apart for more than a few weeks…”
“Three and a half.”
You smiled at him, a mixture of fondness and teasing that was deadly to his heart.
“You remember the exact amount of time we were apart…”
“The longest 24 days of my life, thanks for reminding me.”
You exchanged tender smiles.
“Apparently, he didn’t put much effort to call her and stuff while he was away.”
“Touring life sounds crazy, I’m not too surprised.”
“I think Siobhán just feels… abandoned, a little bit. Like she doesn’t get his attention anymore. Like he’s not putting the effort in these days. I think… she doesn’t feel like she’s one of his priorities, when he’s still a priority for her, and it’s very painful to her.”
Slowly, Andrew nodded. He reached up to rub at his collarbone as he grew restless. Still, he was still staring right into your eyes when he spoke again.
“I understand how that feels. I don’t blame her for leaving, if he fucked up to the point that… that’s how she felt about their relationship. With Sam… it was a lot like that, especially towards the end. I never want you to feel this way in our relationship. If it happens, you need to slap me right across the face and put some sense back into my head, okay? Cause you are my priority. You know that, right? That you’re my priority? You and the baby and this family we’re building, you are my priority.”
You blinked tears away, reached across the table to hold both of his hands, and he stopped his nervous habit of his; so he could intertwine his fingers with yours instead.
“I know, baby. I know…”
You took in a shaky breath, struggling not to cry. Still, your voice was hoarse as it tightened when you spoke again.
“But that’s why… our situation and theirs are very different. You chose me.”
He frowned, puzzled, not knowing what you were talking about…
“You said no to that offer from the label. You chose to stay here, with me, instead of touring. And Alex couldn’t wait to leave.”
His heart softened.
“I will always choose you, my love.”
“And I will always choose you, too. You are my priority. You, our family… you are my priority. And I never want you to feel the way you did with Sam ever again. I would never forgive myself if I made you feel lowly of yourself, if I didn’t make you feel like you are my entire world… because you are. You’re everything to me.”
Andrew sniffed, looked up at the ceiling to withhold his tears.
“Christ… you can’t say things like that, I’m not good enough with emotions to take that in,” he mumbled, making you laugh.
“Well… you’re gonna have to deal with that truth, anyway.”
His laughter joined yours, bouncing tenderly across your kitchen.
You waited for him to get a grip on his emotions again before resuming your conversation.
“Will you and Alex be okay, though? Are you going to call him?”
“Yeah… I should call him… but I don’t know how it’s going to turn out. Chances are, he won’t even answer me for a while. And maybe that’s for the best, I reckon we both need to process what happened last night.”
“Are you still angry at him?”
“Yeah… yeah, I’m fucking angry. And… disappointed? I don’t know… bitter, definitely. He said some hurtful things, and he was a fucking dick to you. And he convinced himself that this contract was for him, when it wasn’t. On his end, I guess it’s gonna take a while for him to recognize that and come to peace with my decision.”
He heaved a tired sigh.
“Please, tell me we’re done with the painful conversations…”
“Yeah, I think we’re good.”
“Thank God…”
“Hey! Don’t be so bummed by it! It’s a healthy sign for our relationship! We’re communicating properly.”
“I know that, and I’m grateful for it. Still… it’s emotionally exhausting.”
“Yeah… I get that.”
“You know what would be less emotionally exhausting?”
“Erm… literally anything else?”
“Yeah, but more specifically… Kicking your arse at Mario Kart.”
You laughed, shaking your head at him.
“You poor soul… thinking you can win against me…”
“I beat the shit out of your poor little Yoshi last week…”
“I was tired.”
“Excuses, excuses…”
You laughed with him, shaking your head while playfulness and teasing shown in your eyes. God… he loved that mischief on you.
“Alright, I shall rise to your challenge. But if you lose, you are on vacuum duty today.”
He winced.
“Hey, that’s not fair! I’m on the laundry this weekend!”
“It’s okay if you’re too afraid to lose, honey, you can still back out of it…”
“Absolutely the fuck not! I’m keeping the laundry and you’re vacuuming!”
He paused, growing serious again.
“Unless you’re not feeling well… I don’t want you to overtire yourself… I’ll vacuum if you…”
“Andy… I’m okay. The nausea passed. I’m just hungry now, but I feel much better.”
“Right… then, you eat something, and then I’m kicking your pretty arse.”
You laughed a devilish laugh, promising him he would lose.
And that afternoon, Andrew was annoyed while he had to vacuum the whole house while you folded the laundry with a happy smirk on your face, but he couldn’t charm his way out of that bet he had taken. The kisses you offered after he was done kind of made up for it, though…
Chapter 18 : ‘In the morning glad I see ; my foe outrestched beneath the tree.’
Hi, everyone! Here’s a new chapter! Some angst coming in!
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU), Sequel to Love in Verses, dadzier.
Warnings: fluff (a disgusting amount), angst for secondary characters, smut so 18+ only There are no warnings concerning the pregnancy (no infertility issues, no miscarriage, only tooth-rotting fluff)
Summary: Your life is perfect. You're married to the love of your life, your career is thriving as you work at Trinity College, in Dublin. You've settled down with your husband, and it seems that life is perfect these days. And yet, there's a tugging at your heart whenever you see baby clothes, a longing for something more. What if you wanted to be a mother? Are you ready to let this new joy enter your life?
Word Count: 4063
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I waterd it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night.
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine.
And into my garden stole,
When the night had veild the pole;
In the morning glad I see;
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
William Blake
Andrew’s hand was spread across your belly again.
You had confirmed your pregnancy through ultrasounds merely two weeks before, and yet it was already a new habit of his. He couldn’t help it. As you snuggled together on the sofa, Elwood gently snoring on the carpet before the couch, his hand found its natural place there, on your stomach. You kissed his jaw as you smiled, making him lose track of the movie you were watching for a second. Over the sound of the TV, rain was pouring and sometimes almost overtaking the sounds of your home. Sometimes, a burst of wind got caught in your chimney and roared in protest. It didn’t matter much. After an exhausting week, this Friday night was exactly what he needed: warm and soft and simple.
What a lovely evening…
The doorbell rang. You both jumped in surprise, frowned at each other while Elwood grumbled, shifted, but didn’t get up. You weren’t expecting anyone…
You moved to stand, but Andrew stopped you.
“I’ll go, stay here.”
“But…”
“Rest, darling.”
You rolled your eyes at him, but didn’t have time to argue as Andrew was already on his feet.
He hurried to the door, was surprised to find a drenched Alex on his doorstep, with a large travel bag over his shoulder.
“Alex?! You’re okay? What are you doing here?” he asked, moving to the side to let his friend in.
You were up too now, frowning at the sight of Alex’s miserable appearance.
“Come in, Alex. What happened? You’re alright?” you asked, helping him take off his drenched coat, and hurrying to the kitchen to make him a cup of warm tea while he took off his shoes.
Alex didn’t say a word before he was seated in your kitchen, his warm mug in his hand. And then, the words were blurted out.
“Siobhán broke up with me.”
You and Andrew exchanged a worried look.
“I’m sorry, mate,” Andrew rested a supportive hand on Alex’s shoulder. “What happened?”
Alex shrugged. And Andrew knew him. He was closing on himself, and that was everything but healthy.
“Did you two have a fight?”
“Of course not, we were having a blast, she just chose to kill the mood,” Alex replied, abrasive.
And Andrew knew his friend, he didn’t take it personally. Alex had a lot of anger inside him, and if taking a few bullets could help him, Andrew could take it.
“Smartass,” he replied. “Must have been quite a fight if she ended things. You don’t want to tell me about it?”
But Alex shook his head.
“Can I stay here tonight?”
“Wait… did you drive all the way from Belfast?” you asked him, but he shrugged.
“Driving helps calming me down. Besides, I… I didn’t really know where to go. Funny, right? Cause she left because I’m not home enough, apparently.”
Andrew noticed that you were tensing, but he didn’t say anything. Only, Alex seemed to notice too.
“Did she talk to you about that?”
“Alex…”
“And you said nothing? Was she planning on dumping me?”
“No… I… I don’t know, Alex.”
He let out a wry laugh.
“I can’t believe it.”
He buried his face in his hands, loudly sniffed.
“I’ll go prepare you a bed,” you awkwardly started to walk away.
“Yeah, you do that,” Alex replied with poison in his voice, and Andrew tightened his grip, the touch unfriendly now.
“Alex… don’t you dare. Not on her.”
Alex let out a long exhale, but didn’t apologize.
“Come on, what happened?”
“I told you. Apparently, me being a musician is too much to handle. And I’m the worst boyfriend in the world because I want to have a successful career.”
“That doesn’t sound like Siobhán at all.”
“I told her about the offer we got, from the label. She went crazy over that.”
“Again, doesn’t sound like Siobhán…”
“She asked what it would mean for us, and I said nothing! It’s not because I’m off touring that it’ll change anything for us! But she argued about that, and she basically insinuated that I wasn’t involved in our relationship anymore, like… what does that mean? I’m fucking in love with her, how can I not be involved?!”
He heaved a painful sigh.
“She told me to go away, gave me a moment to gather some of my stuff, and threw me out, basically.”
“Christ… I’m sorry, Alex…”
“I just… I feel like a fucking fool, cause I didn’t see it coming. Like… we were struggling a little but… I didn’t think she would leave me, and especially not because of that. She should have been happy for me! For us! We’re being signed! For real! We’ll tour, a real tour, that means having a stable career…”
“Wait… you fought over Universal’s offer? The agent at the festival?”
“Yeah… I know you said you needed time to think or whatever, clever move, I guess, to make sure they don’t think us too desperate, but…”
“Alex… I said no.”
His friend blinked up at him.
“What?”
“I said no. To the offer. I refused the contract.”
“What?! When?”
“A couple of weeks ago. I wanted to talk about it with you next weekend, in person, as we were going to Bray for Rory’s birthday.”
“Why the fuck would you do that?!”
Alex glowered at his friend, with such rage, Andrew had never seen him so angry before…
“Was it Y/N? Did she tell you to decline? To pass on THE FUCKING CHANCE OF A LIFETIME?!”
“What are you talking about?”
Both men turned to you as you entered the kitchen again, frowning, trying to catch up with the conversation. Andrew’s heart stopped.
“DID YOU TELL HIM TO TURN UNIVERSAL DOWN?!”
“ALEX!” Andrew hissed. “Don’t fucking shout at my wife!”
“What are you talking about?” you merely replied, more confused than ever.
“The offer! For a fucking album and tour! By Universal!”
You turned to Andrew then. He couldn’t read how you felt exactly, but it wasn’t good, that was for sure. There was anger under your astonishment.
“You had an offer? For an album?!”
Alex turned to his friend as well.
“You didn’t tell her?” he mocked, eyebrows rising in surprise. “Talk about a perfect couple!”
“Alex!” you both exclaimed.
Andrew heaved a sigh, rubbed at his forehead, then ran a hand through his hair.
“I didn’t tell you about it because I needed time to think, and then I took my decision, and I said no. So… there wasn’t a discussion to have about this.”
“Andy! Why on earth wouldn’t you tell me?!” you asked, but Alex brought attention back to himself again.
“How could you turn them down?! This was our chance! And you didn’t even tell me about it?! You blew up our chance and you didn’t consort me about it?!”
“It was my decision to take…”
“WE WERE BEING SIGNED!”
“I WAS BEING SIGNED!”
Silence. A stunned one. Because of Andrew’s words, and because his voice had roared so loudly through your house.
Alex clenched his fists, but Andrew didn’t back down.
“The offer was for me, Alex. It was to record my songs, on an album with my name on it, and for a tour with my name on the tickets.”
“So… you would have just left us all behind…”
“Of course, not! Of course, had I chosen to sign, I would have wanted to do all this with you and the rest of the band… but that’s the thing, Alex. You and the band would not have been signed the way I would have. I would have asked for you to be hired to be my band. It was my decision to take. Not yours. Not Y/N’s. And I took my decision.”
“I can’t believe you’re saying that. After all these years working together… Acting like you’re the only one with talent…”
“You know that’s not what I think in the slightest…”
“You blew our best chance! You blew it! Why the fuck did you blow it?!”
“Because I have no intention to leave! I’m married! I have a job!”
“Excuses!”
“No…”
“You know what… maybe Sam was right. Maybe you just keep on turning down offers for record deals simply because you’re a fucking coward!”
Silence again. Another stunned one.
“How fucking dare you?!”
It was your voice that rose across the battlefield. You sounded astonished, while Andrew stared at his friend without being able to think.
“How do I dare? Ask your husband how does he dare ruining our fucking careers! A chance like this one, it happens once! He already blew up the first one, and now he does it again! AND FOR WHAT?!”
Alex took a couple of steps towards you, rage distorting his features. Andrew stopped him by placing a hand on his chest, and when you and Alex turned towards him, you could barely recognize the cold wrath on his features.
“Get out.”
Alex froze, flinched, looked for an answer in his friend’s eyes.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. House.”
There was no violence in the way he pushed Alex towards the door, he merely guided his friend, it would seem. Still, his glare was deadly.
“Andy…”
“No! That’s enough! I get that you’re upset, I get that you’re sad, I get that you’re lost… I get it. But you don’t come in my house and insult me, and shout at my wife…”
“You betrayed me! You betrayed all of us by turning down…”
“Y/N’s pregnant.”
You gasped. Telling Alex this way… that wasn’t the plan.
Alex’s eyes grew round.
“I am not going to spend all my nights and weekends working on music when I’m trying to build a family. I am not going to take time off a job I adore, and probably ruin the career I’ve worked so fucking hard to build, to record songs. I am not going to leave for a tour when my wife is pregnant at home... or when I have a child at home. Again, Alex… the offer was made to me, not to you. And you, of all people, know very well how many sacrifices are needed to make it in the music industry. If you were so self-centred about your career with Siobhán, then no wonder she dumped your sorry arse.”
Alex huffed, too aghast to speak, it would seem. He put on his shoes and coat in a hurry, and obeyed his friend’s order, leaving and slamming the door behind him.
Silence.
In the house, nothing moved. During the argument, Elwood had remained in a corner, clearly scared by the whole ordeal. Now, he was softly crying.
None of you moved.
“What the hell was that offer about, Andy?”
Andrew closed his eyes, let out a long sigh.
Andy. Not baby…
Slowly, he turned to you. There was no anger left on his features, he was simply exhausted.
“After the gig at the festival, an agent from Universal came to see us. She wanted to talk to me. Chelsey, that was her name. She wanted to offer me a record deal. For my songs. And a tour. She sent details over the next day. It was legit. And it was a good deal.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about it?! Why didn’t you say yes?! It was an amazing opportunity!”
But he shook his head.
“When she offered me that deal I…”
He heaved a sigh, took off his glasses to rub at his eyes.
“There was a time when I would have been overjoyed by such an offer, when I wouldn’t have thought twice about accepting. But that was a long time ago. And honestly, when she made the offer I just… my first reaction was to decline.”
You raised a surprised eyebrow. He went on.
“I didn’t tell you, because I needed to think about it. On my own. I meant to tell you this week, I would have told everyone my decision next weekend, in Bray. Obviously, the band knew, Chelsey made me an offer more or less in front of them. But she made an offer to me, babe. Not to the band. It was extremely clear, and when she sent me details on the contract, there was only my name on it. So, the decision was mine. And I needed to think…”
“I would have supported you,” you interrupted him. “I would have done anything for it to work out for you…”
“I know, love. I know. That’s why I didn’t talk to you about it. I know you would have encouraged me to say yes, that you would have been supportive, that you would have found a way to make our marriage work even if I had to leave for months to tour. I already knew that, but I needed to think on my own, figure out what I wanted. Do you understand?”
He reached for your hands, and you threaded your fingers with his.
“I didn’t mean to have secrets, I had planned to tell you before we’d go to Bray next weekend.”
“Are you saying no because of me? Because of the baby? We could make it work…”
“I don’t want to make it work,” Andrew shook his head. “I know how things are in music, and I don’t want it. I have a job I love, and I have a life I adore, and I have you. And now, I have a baby on the way! I’m not sacrificing any of that to sing. It’s not worth it. I can keep on writing my songs, and play at a few gigs… and that will be enough. That’s what I want, honey.”
You wrapped your arms around him, held him tight.
“You’re not feeling frustrated because of me, right?” you asked, your voice quiet and further muffled by his shirt.
“Of course not, love.”
He held your face in his palm so you would look up at him.
“You are everything to me,” he confessed in a whisper. “You, this family we’re building now… I want nothing else. I had a choice to make, and I could have refused on the spot because… I knew from the beginning what I wanted. I want you. And I will not sacrifice the happiness you bring me for my music. It’s not worth it.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m certain.”
“I don’t want you to have regrets…”
“The only regret I could have would be to lose you. I won’t regret this. I know I’ve made the right choice. I know it, babe. I can feel it in my bones. I’ve made the right choice.”
You buried your face in his chest again, he heard you deeply breathing his cologne.
“I love you,” you whispered. “Thank you, baby.”
He tightened his hold. Baby, not Andy…
“I love you, too, honey. More than anything in this world.”
“Will you and Alex be okay?”
He huffed, took a step back but kept his hands on your waist.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “He went too far…”
“You were a little harsh too.”
“Did you hear the bullshit he was serving us?!”
“I know… He’s in the wrong…”
“But?”
“But he’s your best friend.”
“It doesn’t give him a pass for being an absolute asshole. Not that much of a prick, at least…”
“Fair enough.”
He heaved a sigh.
“I’ll give him some time to cool down.”
You nodded, before reaching up to hold his cheeks in your palms.
“You are the bravest, most amazing man I’ve ever met. You know that, right?”
He chuckled.
“No need to reassure me about that Sam comment…”
“Honey…”
“I’m alright. Alex was being a prick. He was pushing on all the right buttons. But I’m okay.”
“I’m so proud of you, my love. I am so, so proud of you being my husband.”
He bent to kiss your lips, sweet, gentle, loving…
“Thank you,” he let out in a breath against your mouth.
You were interrupted by your phone vibrating in the kitchen.
You knew it was Siobhán without looking at the screen. Andrew nodded, a silent permission to leave his arms and help your friend.
“Do you think I’ve made a mistake?”
You heaved a sigh, sitting straighter in your couch.
Andrew had relocated to the bedroom to let you and Siobhán have some privacy, he was probably asleep already. It was, after all, almost two in the morning. Still, Siobhán was on the phone, her pixelated face on your screen while she dried her eyes for the thousandth time.
“I think you’re the only one to know what’s best for you,” you answered. “And if you think it was better for you to leave him, then I think you’ve taken the right decision.”
“I don’t know… I love him… it feels wrong to leave him, but also… it feels wrong to be with him… how can I feel like that?”
“Because you’re not satisfied with how your relationship with him is progressing these days.”
“Yeah…”
She blew her nose, throwing her dirty tissue to join the giant pile on her coffee table.
“But you know what the worst part is? He acted like he hadn’t seen it coming. Like it wasn’t obvious that there was something wrong in our relationship. Like… We barely talk these days, he’s always off somewhere playing or doing God knows what… how can he not know that things aren’t okay between us when he’s doing that?!”
“I don’t know…”
“I’m just… I just can’t take it anymore. And you know what he said? That I was being selfish! That I didn’t want him to succeed in his career! What a bloody joke!”
You let out a long breath, searching for the right words. But Siobhán talked before you could.
“I can’t believe he got mad at Andy, of all people…”
“I think he was very upset, and that made him mean.”
“And Andy didn’t tell you about that contract they were offered?”
“No, he didn’t. We’ll have to have a longer talk about that… but… I kind of understand him, in a way. It was his decision to take, and he didn’t want me to argue with him, even by accident.”
“He should have told you, still.”
“I know, and I’ll tell him so later.”
“I can’t believe he declined though.”
It wasn’t the right time to tell your friend you were pregnant. You wanted to tell her face to face, when you would be able to hug her, and when she would be able to be happy for you and to celebrate the news. Not now, when she was throwing away yet another tissue across the room.
“His life is different from the one he had when he was younger. He’s not a professional musician, and he told me he didn’t want to make the sacrifices being a professional would involve.”
Siobhán huffed.
“Yeah… and I know about those sacrifices, clearly. I reckon, I am one.”
She shook her head.
“It’s so fucking cliché. How could I not see it coming? It’s obvious that musicians are terrible at dating… that’s where all their sad songs come from.”
You chuckled at that.
“Maybe, yeah…”
“I just… I just really thought Alex and I would be an exception, that we could make it work. I was wrong. I guess… he didn’t care about me as much as I thought he did.”
“I don’t know… I think he loves you a lot, genuinely.”
“But it’s not enough.”
You didn’t know what to tell her, because on your end, the love Andrew had for you was enough to make him prioritise you over his music. How could you bring comfort to your friend then, when your husband had chosen to stay with you instead of pursuing this old dream of his?
You rested your hand on your belly. Then again, the two of you had another dream now…
“I’m not enough…” Siobhán added in a weak voice, but you glowered at her.
“Hey! Don’t start with that! You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, it’s his loss if he can’t put the effort in.”
She smiled at you, drying her cheeks.
“Then why don’t you divorce Andy and run into the sunset with me, huh?”
“Ha… the paperwork would be too much now…”
“Bloody paperwork.”
She sniffed loudly.
“I just… I really thought he was the one, for a moment. It hurts to think I got that wrong. Especially when… It used to be so good, at the beginning. And then everything went to shit.”
“It’s okay…”
“What if I’ve made the wrong choice? What if I shouldn’t have broken up with him?”
“Were you happy with him these days?”
She took a second to think, but finally shook her head.
“Then, you’ve made the right choice. You’re not in a relationship to feel miserable, okay? If you’re to love someone, you have to be loved in return, the way you deserve. And that’s what will make you happy.”
She had a bitter laughter.
“Anyway, the worst part is… he won’t even have that tour we fought about, as Andy declined the offer.”
“Yeah…”
“But… hang on… why can’t Alex sign his part of the contract without Andy? Do they all have to sign?”
“No… Alex was not offered a contract. No one in the band was. It was just Andy.”
“What?”
“That woman offered a contract to Andy, for him to record his songs. It would be his album, and if it worked out, his tour. Of course, Andy would have asked to work with the old band, but… the others were not included in the contract. That’s why he took the decision on his own. It was not an offer for the band. Just for Hozier.”
“Wow… so… you’re telling me he went full asshole mode… for nothing?”
“Yeah, basically.”
“What a fucking cunt!”
“Yep…”
A silence, a rather long one, while new tears gathered in Siobhán’s eyes.
“So… I’ve made his life worse now… it looks like he lost a lot in the span of a day…”
“Hey! You’re not here to make him happy while suffering! That’s not how it works. You’ve done nothing wrong, stop it!”
She nodded, checked the time, dried her cheeks again.
“I should go to sleep.”
“I can come to Belfast tomorrow…”
“No… it’s late already, and you hate driving when you’re tired. Besides… I need to be on my own for a few days. Need to lean into the self-pity a while longer before you come around and make me feel like a human again.”
“Alright… I’ll come to visit next weekend then, okay? Can I stay at your flat?”
“Of course. Will the tree come too?”
“Do you want him there? Or would it be easier for you if he stayed here?”
She thought for a moment.
“Can you come alone? I really love Andrew, but… It’s not the same as you.”
“I understand. It’s okay. I’ll give you the details, okay? I’ll sleep at your place on Saturday night, that seems the easiest way to do this. I might be too tired to drive on Friday night.”
She nodded, didn’t ask you further questions on why you’d be exhausted, and you were grateful for it. That meant you didn’t have to lie to her.
When you finally went to bed, Andrew seemed to be asleep. You tiptoed across the bedroom, carefully lied in bed. No matter how careful you were though, the second you were lying down, Andrew wrapped an arm around your waist, and shuffled closer.
“Is she okay?” he asked, his voice made hoarse by sleep.
“She will be,” you nodded. “We’ll talk tomorrow morning, okay?”
He nodded, pulled you a little closer again. Even in his half-conscious state, he performed this simple ritual you had grown accustomed to over the years. Almost a reflex, a tender dance in three steps, before surrendering to sleep.
“Good night, love,” he mumbled into your cheek.
“Good night, baby.”
You kissed his chin, the piece of him closest to your lips, while he pecked your cheekbone. He shifted, slipping a leg between yours to tangle your limbs.
“I love you,” he whispered in the dark, his breath brushing the skin of your neck.
Hi, everyone! Here’s a new chapter! First ultrasound! Disgusting amount of cuteness !
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU), Sequel to Love in Verses, dadzier.
Warnings: fluff (a disgusting amount), angst for secondary characters, smut so 18+ only There are no warnings concerning the pregnancy (no infertility issues, no miscarriage, only tooth-rotting fluff)
Summary: Your life is perfect. You're married to the love of your life, your career is thriving as you work at Trinity College, in Dublin. You've settled down with your husband, and it seems that life is perfect these days. And yet, there's a tugging at your heart whenever you see baby clothes, a longing for something more. What if you wanted to be a mother? Are you ready to let this new joy enter your life?
Word Count: 1789
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
Ultrasound
Novel unbegun,
half-loaf rising,
lighthouse northward
and anchor south.
Lemon to grapefruit,
you sleep-step sidewise,
turnover, pop-up,
tongue in the mouth.
Rachel Richardson, Hundred-Year Wave, 2016
The next morning, you booked an appointment for an ultrasound. Meanwhile, Andrew was calling Chelsey. There was no need to wait, or discuss this with anyone else. The choice was obvious, now more than ever.
She answered on the fourth ring.
“Yes, this is Chelsey.”
Her voice was too sweet, something sickeningly saccharine.
“Erm… hi! This is Andrew… we’ve met at the festival in Kilkenny…”
“Of course! How are you doing, Andrew? I’m guessing that your call means that you have an answer for me…”
“Yeah… I do… erm… First, thank you for your offer. I am aware of how incredible that opportunity is. But… I’m going to have to decline.”
A long, heavy silence followed. Andrew wondered if the communication had been interrupted.
“Hello?”
“Yes! Erm… wait…”
She had a nervous laugh.
“You’re… you’re turning down the offer?”
“Yes, I’m turning it down.”
“Did you have a better offer coming from someone else? I’m sure we could find an arrangement.”
Andrew frowned at that.
“Erm… no… I just… I just don’t want to do it.”
Another long pause.
“You… don’t want to do it?!”
Her voice had gone up a couple of octaves.
“Yeah… I… look, I’m flattered, really. But I have a job, a family… I’m not a young dreamer with nothing attached anymore. I can’t let music decide on what the rest of my life will look like. So… even though I dearly appreciate this opportunity, I have to refuse.”
Andrew heard you shuffling in the house, heard Elwood barking a couple of times. You were getting ready to take him on a walk.
“Is there anything I can say to make you reconsider?” she asked.
“Honestly… no, you can’t. Thank you again, for your offer. But… I have other priorities in my life now. Twenty-year-old me would have done anything for that kind of contract…”
“But?”
Andrew smiled.
“But twenty-year-old me was not married to the most extraordinary woman on this earth… and starting a family.”
She let out a long breath, full of understanding.
“Hmm… I see… so there was a muse behind those songs…”
“Oh, yeah… and a hell of good one…”
“Alright… I understand. Good luck for the rest, then Andrew. I genuinely wish you the best.”
“Thank you.”
He heard you calling for him, and cut the conversation short.
He hurried out of his office and down the stairs. You were ready to leave, wrapped in one of his warm jackets and the warmest of his scarves.
“Are you coming with us?”
Slowly, he nodded, picking up his pair of brown boots.
“I’d go anywhere with you, love…”
Saying that you were nervous would be the understatement of the century. No, scratch that… the fucking millennium.
You looked over at Andrew, trying to find any semblance of peace there, but he was in the same state as you. Grand…
You checked the time… they were twenty minutes late for your ultrasound… grand…
You rested a hand on your belly. What if the tests had been wrong? What if you weren’t pregnant? What if there was something wrong with the baby?
Andrew reached out to hold your hand, but it wasn’t to steady you, he was shaking.
“Jesus Christ, how late can these people be?” he mumbled under his breath, shifting uncomfortably in his plastic chair.
“You’re one to talk about punctuality,” you snorted.
“Hey! We were on time today!”
“Three minutes late…”
He rolled his eyes.
“Three minutes… they’ll soon be half-an-hour late…”
“It’s been twenty minutes.”
“You know what I mean.”
You chuckled fondly at him.
“I know. I feel like I’m going insane…”
“Right! I’m seriously considering reading that magazine about hair implants on the table…”
You broke into laughter, drawing glances in your direction from the three other couples in the room.
“I’m afraid you’re not their target audience, love,” you chuckled.
“Who knows… maybe one day…”
“Have you seen your da? If there is one thing I’m not worried about for this baby, it’s early baldness.”
Andrew coughed to refrain a loud laugh.
“The Byrnes have to be blessed with something.”
“If you tie this to the size of your penis, I’m going to emasculate you…”
This time, he couldn’t refrain his laughter, drawing glances in your direction again.
“That would be a shame… for you and I both…”
You bit your tongue.
But just as you were about to reply, a midwife stepped into the room, and called your name. And just like that, all trace of laughter was gone.
You followed her across the corridor, Andrew in tow. You followed her instructions as you lied down, pushed up your shirt and popped open the buttons of your jeans.
She turned to you with a reassuring smile.
“Alright, today we’re going to have the first ultrasound! The point for today’s examination is to first, make sure that you are really pregnant. Then, we’re going to make some measurements of the embryo, calculate the date of birth and maybe hear the heartbeat, although it is only detectable after six to seven weeks of pregnancy. When was your last period?”
You blinked up at her.
“Erm… In January. Erm… nine weeks ago.”
“Hmm… so we might hear a heartbeat! We’re also going to look for any type of anomaly, especially concerning the placenta, the placement of the embryo or its attachment in the uterus. And then, I’ll print you nice pictures where all you will be able to see is… a blur dot! But a cute one, already!”
She asked you a few questions about your health, your drinking and smoking habits, any type of diseases in yours and Andrew’s family. Once she had filled up a document gathering your answers, she turned to the machine set next to you.
“This is an ultrasound, it’s absolutely safe for both you and the baby. It’s going to be a little uncomfortable for you, as I might have to press on your stomach to get a clear image. Tell me if it becomes painful. I’m also going to have to apply this gel to your stomach to help with the probe. It’s cold and sticky and all in all a nightmare to clean up…”
You smiled, nodding. You were startled despite the midwife’s warning by the coldness of the gel, and Andrew reached for your hand. Holding it with both of his.
You let the midwife work in silence for a few minutes, getting her ultrasound probe ready and then applying it to your belly. It was, indeed, uncomfortable, but you were nervous more than anything else.
You saw the midwife smiling.
“Alright, here we go.”
She turned the screen towards you and Andrew. She explained to you a few technical details you tried to understand but all your efforts were rendered useless when she pointed at a white form around the centre of the screen.
“And this, is your baby. You are indeed, pregnant. Congratulations!”
You tightened your hold on Andrew’s hand, who lifted your hand to his lips.
“Everything about it is normal. It is well-attached, the placenta is developing normally… everything is fine. Are you ready to hear its heartbeat?”
You merely nodded, unable to speak. You couldn’t refrain your tears when you heard it.
Ta-boom, ta-boom, ta-boom…
“It is still faint, which is normal, the heart will take months to fully develop. For now, some organs have not even started forming yet…”
But you weren’t fully listening to the midwife, all you could hear was that rhythm…
Ta-boom, ta-boom, ta-boom…
“Jesus Christ…” Andrew let out in a breath, drying his cheeks on his sleeve.
You exchanged a glance, a tearful, and unbearably happy one.
You were pregnant. You were expecting a baby. Your baby…
Ta-boom, ta-boom, ta-boom…
Andrew was the one driving you both home. You couldn’t think straight, not enough to be able to drive. You kept on staring at the pictures of the ultrasound. Just a little form, white against the black background, the size of a grain of rice.
Your baby…
Andrew was quiet. You both were. It was a lot to take in. Still, his hand was on your thigh, and your fingers held onto his forearm. Anchors, despite how you both floated away on cloud nine now.
“I can’t believe we heard their heartbeat,” Andrew mumbled.
“Me neither.”
You were seven-weeks pregnant, fecundation being estimated at the beginning of February. So early on in your trying phase… you had not detected the first symptoms as quickly as you would have thought you would. Your baby was planned to be born in November. An autumn baby… your favourite season…
Andrew started to laugh.
“Well… that weekend in Kilkenny was romantic…”
You laughed, but shook your head.
“I was already pregnant in Kilkenny!”
Andrew seemed to re-do the maths.
“Oh… yeah! Wow… so when we looked at these children playing…”
“I was already carrying our child.”
Andrew blinked his tears away, his voice a little hoarse when he spoke again.
“Christ… you’re carrying our child… how mental is that?”
“I know!”
“My mam is never going to believe this!”
You blinked. His mother… of course, he wanted to tell everyone… but the midwife’s words rang again in your ears.
Most miscarriages happen during the first three months, and it is rarely caused by something the mother did, like a fall, for example. If it happens to you, it will not be your fault. Sadly, we estimate that 10 to 20% of pregnancies end during the first trimester.
“What are you thinking?” Andrew probed gently, rubbing soothing circles into your jeans.
You rested your hand on your stomach, over your baby. Remnants of the gel on your skin made the movement a little uncomfortable.
“I think we should wait for the three-months mark to tell everyone I’m pregnant.”
Andrew threw you a quick look, before he had to focus on the road again. He slowly nodded.
“Alright…”
“I just… I hope… so badly… for this baby to be well and for everything to happen perfectly… but I’m not sure I want to deal with the thrill of our family and friends… and then their disappointment if I… miscarry…”
Slowly, Andrew nodded again.
“Alright.”
“I don’t want them to be disappointed.”
But Andrew let out a breathy chuckle.
“Love… we’ll have other things to think about and to deal with than their disappointment if that happens. We’ll be wrecked.”
“Yeah… but like… I want to wait… maybe it isn’t so rational but…”
“If you prefer to wait, we can wait. It’s only a few weeks. We’ll plan a surprise.”
You smiled at the thought, imagined it all already.
Chapter 16: ‘Sweetheart when you break thru you’ll find a poet here’
Hi, everyone! Here’s a new chapter! You’re gonna love this one ;)
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU), Sequel to Love in Verses, dadzier.
Warnings: fluff (a disgusting amount), angst for secondary characters, smut so 18+ only There are no warnings concerning the pregnancy (no infertility issues, no miscarriage, only tooth-rotting fluff)
Summary: Your life is perfect. You're married to the love of your life, your career is thriving as you work at Trinity College, in Dublin. You've settled down with your husband, and it seems that life is perfect these days. And yet, there's a tugging at your heart whenever you see baby clothes, a longing for something more. What if you wanted to be a mother? Are you ready to let this new joy enter your life?
Word Count: 2461
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
Song for Baby-O, Unborn
Sweetheart
when you break thru
you’ll find
a poet here
not quite what one would choose.
I won’t promise
you’ll never go hungry
or that you won’t be sad
on this gutted
breaking
globe
but I can show you
baby
enough to love
to break your heart
forever
Diane di Prime, Pieces of a song
Andrew hadn’t told you about Chelsey’s offer yet.
It had been a few days since the gig. Chelsey had kept her word, sent him a contract and granted him some time to think.
Andrew had studied the contract, the clauses and everything. And it was legit. A full album, two single releases, full publicity campaigns and interviews for RTé radios and even a late show appearance. If the numbers were good enough for the first single, a full Irish tour, with some dates to be included in the UK as well, maybe even the US if numbers were good enough there as well, along with some festivals.
Christ… this was the opportunity of a lifetime…
… and Andrew wanted to decline.
There was a little bit of fear and a lot of doubt in there. Fear of messing up, doubts about himself, his own value, his talent, the quality of his music… But more than anything else, more than his self-sabotaging tendencies, there was you.
As he looked up from his mug of coffee to study your messy hair, the imprint of your pillow that lingered across your cheek… he couldn’t picture himself anywhere but here, in this kitchen, with you. Alex touring for months a couple of years before had showed him again all the sacrifices music required. And despite his friend’s reassuring words, he knew that his career weighed heavily on his relationship with Siobhán. He remembered your long phone calls with your best friend, the evenings you drove over to Belfast because she missed Alex too much and couldn’t stop crying. And there would be all the whirlwind of press, and people prying into his life, and he would lose his job, this job he loved and had worked so hard for and…
He didn’t want to make you go through all of that. He didn’t want to be away, didn’t want to leave you for months on end. He didn’t want to lose the career he had built for himself either. And you were trying to get pregnant, that was the worst timing imaginable. The more he thought about this, the more he wanted to decline the offer, hold you in his arms and never let go…
You covered your stomach all of sudden, tearing Andrew away from his thoughts. He frowned at the sight, worried now. When he spoke, his voice was still heavy with sleep.
You dropped your toast on the table, before standing up in a rush and heading to the bathroom. He heard you throwing up as he climbed up the stairs after you.
He winced. You must have caught something, stomach flu or some other kind of virus, you had been sick these past three days…
He walked inside the room, reaching to tie up your hair while you threw up again.
You panted as he rubbed your back.
“It’s alright, love…”
It didn’t last long though. A couple of minutes later, and you were sitting straighter again, leaning against the wall. Andrew helped you up so you could wash your mouth.
“You’re alright?” he asked, frowning hard in worry.
But you slowly nodded.
“Better…”
You were shaking though, and didn’t seem stable on your two feet.
“Let’s get you back to bed.”
“I need to go to work…”
“You’ve just thrown up. You’re gonna stay home. I’ll call Lydia to warn her you’re sick. Must have caught some virus or something, you should call the doctor.”
He frowned when you stared at him, seeming both scared and hesitant all of a sudden.
“What?”
“Do you… do you think there could be another explanation? For me being sick?”
“What are you talking about?”
He blinked at you, completely clueless. Tears shone in your eyes all of a sudden.
“I think we should buy some tests.”
“Tests?”
You shrugged.
“Could be… morning sickness… right?”
Andrew’s brain short-circuited completely.
“What?! But… we’ve been trying for what? Two months?! If you have morning sickness, it means you’re a few weeks pregnant already! That would be insane!”
“I know… I would have gotten pregnant… like… right after my last period. But I also haven’t had my period since late January.”
“But… the doctor said… she talked about months, maybe even years…”
“I know! But I have the symptoms!”
You were shaking even more now, Andrew reached for your arm without thinking, to steady you.
“Alright… let’s… let’s go buy some tests.”
You nodded, but Andrew wasn’t fooled.
You were terrified. And so was he.
“Alright, gonna call Lydia to tell her we can’t come to work today. We’re heading to the pharmacy, and then we’ll take the tests.”
You nodded, slowly.
“We’ve been trying… why am I so scared?” you asked him, voice weak and so terribly vulnerable.
Andrew let out a long exhale through his nose.
“Because it’s real now, and not just something we wish for. And because it’s earlier than we expected… way earlier… Jesus Christ…”
He wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready for you to be pregnant now at all…
And yet, when he grabbed his phone and waited for his boss to answer his call… he wanted you to be pregnant so bad…
You opened the bathroom door, found Andrew burning holes in the tiles of your corridor, nervously rubbing at his collarbone. He froze to look up at you as he heard you walking outside, a silent question in his hazel eyes.
“I’ve taken two tests. We have to wait a few minutes. I’ve set up an alarm on my phone. I didn’t want to move the tests around too much… I don’t know how they work, I don’t want to mess up the results. I’ve left them by the sink.”
Andrew nodded, the ghost of a hum the only sound he seemed able to muster. You were ready to cry, too many contradicting emotions gathering at the wet corners of your eyes.
Andrew felt it, of course. He always did. He knew you better than anyone, like the back of his hand.
He stopped rubbing at his shoulder, leaving the skin red and probably painful. You hated when he did that. You never wanted to see him in any sort of pain…
He reached for your hand, gave you a reassuring smile although it wasn’t very convincing. He tried his best though, for you.
You felt so exhausted all of a sudden. You could hear the ticking of a clock in your own head, see the passing seconds fly by down the length of the corridor. You leaned against the wall behind you, closed your eyes, and let yourself slowly sink to the ground.
Andrew sat down by your side, you heard the shuffling of his clothes. He kept your hand in his, and more than that, he lifted it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. Everything you needed. A silent ‘I’m here, with you, where I belong’. You struggled not to cry.
“If I’m pregnant,” you started, your voice shaking, your eyes still closed, unable to summon the strength to look at Andrew, “it will be too soon. Too fast. I thought we still had at least 6 months ahead of us…”
“We’ll be fine, love. We’re together…”
“This wasn’t the plan. Don’t get me wrong, I want this baby. I know we both want this baby. But I…I just… I’m freaking out.”
He let out a humourless chuckle.
“I’m about to pass out…”
You both laughed, genuinely this time.
“It’s just… I thought it would take a while, the doctor said it would take a while… and… in my head we just… it wasn’t how I had planned this.”
“I know… but we’re ready for this, honey. As you said… we both want this baby. We’re not… dealing with an impromptu pregnancy. It’s just… we’re too good of a team, even for Mother Nature.”
You laughed, and he soon joined you. You could feel yourself relax now, your heart not quite pounding anymore.
Andrew was right. You both wanted this, technically you were trying for a baby. You simply expected for the trying to last longer…
“You know… can I be honest?”
“Of course, darling,” you nodded. “Always.”
“I’m… freaking out, right now. I’m so… overwhelmed. The logical part of my brain kinda wants the tests to be negative, so we can keep on getting ready, planning... But also… if these tests are negative, and you’re not pregnant… I’m going to be disappointed. Like… a lot.”
He blinked tears away, letting out a long exhale and taking off his glasses with his free hand, then drying his eyes on the back of his hand. Your lips trembled, you pressed your face into his bicep and kissed his arm through the fabric of his striped shirt.
“I’ll be disappointed too,” you nodded.
“Hey…” he called for you, and you answered, you always did, looking up at him.
His eyes were a little red, he had put his glasses back on again. He smiled.
“No matter what, as long as we’re together, everything will be fine.”
You smiled up at him, nodding.
“Yeah… we just have to be together.”
“Exactly. We’re a team.”
You were about to answer when your phone rang. Time’s up…
You exchanged a frightened glance. Andrew let out a shaking breath.
“Come on, my darling…”
He stood up, helped you to your feet. You stood before the closed door of your bathroom, motionless for a moment. Andrew, by your side, was waiting for you to make the first move, for you to be ready. Could you ever be ready to have your world changed forever?
You turned to Andrew. To his hazel eyes, reddened by emotions and yet tender, infinitely tender despite the obvious fear in them; beautiful hazel, you saw their patterns of brown and green in your dreams. To his soft smile, kind and safe and warm; these lips that meant home to you. To his rebellious curls, to his cute glasses, to his sharp cheekbones… Him. The love of your life.
With him, you could face anything…
You opened the door, at last, and you walked together towards the sink, discovering the results together.
You picked up the first test, and gasped.
Two lines.
By your side, Andrew let out a choked sob.
“Two lines… means that it’s positive, right?” he asked, voice hoarse and shaking.
You nodded, your vision blurred with tears as you started to cry… or sob, rather.
“Wait, look at the other one!”
Before you could reach for it, Andrew had lifted the test.
Two lines…
You covered your mouth with your hand, dropping the test. You were shaking, your entire body was shaking, you could feel that your legs were about to give way…
The next second, you were safely trapped in a tight embrace, Andrew pressing his face into your hair. You could feel his tears wetting your head.
“I’m pregnant,” you breathed, the reality of the situation sinking in as you spoke it out loud, and you finally grinned, joy overtaking your blur of emotions. “I’m pregnant…”
“Thank you,” Andrew whispered into your ear, before reaching for any part of your face his lips could reach to kiss you over and over and over again. “Thank you. Thank you…”
You held onto him so hard, you wondered if it were painful, but Andrew didn’t move away, on the contrary. You felt him melting against you, leaning into your embrace. Your bodies fitting perfectly together, like two pieces of the same puzzle.
You looked at him once more, held his face in your hands. You were both crying, both a mess, but you were grinning. The same ineffable joy was painted all over your faces.
“You’re pregnant,” he breathed, trying to wrap his mind around this fact, and you nodded.
“We’re going to have a baby,” you breathed, aghast.
He blinked, his eyes fell to your stomach. With a trembling hand, he rested his palm across your belly.
His tears came back, stronger, when he let the words out in a choked breath…
“Our baby…”
Andrew raised the test up to his eyes again. For… probably the hundredth time. By his side, you chuckled, turning your head to look at him instead of the white ceiling of your bedroom.
“You’re aware that I’ve peed on that,” you asked. “It isn’t very hygienic to have that in our bed.”
“We’ve made that baby in this bed…”
“That didn’t involve peeing!”
He laughed, bright and loud.
“No, but sex isn’t the most hygienic activity either, is it?”
You turned to lay on your side, staring at him. But his eyes remained glued to the test, to this little screen that showed him a future he had not even dared to dream of…
Two lines…
The thought came out of his mouth before he could realize he was talking to begin with.
“I’m gonna be a da.”
He blinked tears away once more, huffed in response.
“Christ, I can’t be fucking crying again… God’s sake…”
You merely laughed, reached for him across the mattress to rest your palm on his beating heart. Where it belonged, in your hand…
“I’m gonna be a mammy…”
“You’re going to be the best mom,” he nodded.
“You’ll be a wonderful dad.”
“You think so?”
“Of course, I do! You’re kind, gentle, patient, loving…”
“Enough!”
“You can’t take a bloody compliment…”
He laughed, but nodded anyway.
“Our lives will never be the same.”
“No… And it’s scary. But I want this. I want this with you. I think… it’s going to make our lives better.”
Andrew turned to you, caught your gaze with his. Those beautiful eyes of yours, his dreams were bathed with their shades every time he fell asleep. His favourite colour, since the day he met you…
He smiled as he thought back of that offer for touring. Recording his songs in a professional studio. A musician, on the road, travelling across the country and if he were lucky, travelling across the world… working crazy hours, sacrificing everything for a passion, a dream…
He looked at you, and he knew then, that there wasn’t even a conversation worth having about this. How could he have hesitated for a minute? Now, there was a baby in the equation that weighted heavily on his final decision, but actually… actually, the baby didn’t even matter for this choice. It was you. How could he have believed for a second that there was a choice to make to begin with?
You frowned a little, your fingers slightly tightening in a grip on his t-shirt.
“What are you thinking about?”
His smile widened.
“Nothing important. Just… that there is no place in this world I would rather be, than by your side.”
Hi, everyone! Here’s a new chapter! Very cute one!!!
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU), Sequel to Love in Verses, dadzier.
Warnings: fluff (a disgusting amount), angst for secondary characters, smut so 18+ only There are no warnings concerning the pregnancy (no infertility issues, no miscarriage, only tooth-rotting fluff)
Summary: Your life is perfect. You're married to the love of your life, your career is thriving as you work at Trinity College, in Dublin. You've settled down with your husband, and it seems that life is perfect these days. And yet, there's a tugging at your heart whenever you see baby clothes, a longing for something more. What if you wanted to be a mother? Are you ready to let this new joy enter your life?
Word Count: 4107
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
Bach, Winter
Bach must have known
how something flutters away
when you turn to face the face
you caught sideways in a mirror
in a hall at dusk
and how the smell of apples
in a bowl can stop the heart
from beating, for an instant,
between sink and stove
in the dead of winter when stars
of ice have spread
across the windows and everything
is perfectly still
until you catch the sound
of something lost and shy
beating its wings
against those darkening stars.
And then: music.
Jane Mead
“Christ, Y/N… We’re so dead…”
It was merely the first song. The first song… and yet all you could do was to nod at your best friend, as you stared at your husband. To say that Andrew looked like pure sin was an understatement. There were no words to describe how handsome he was like this, wearing a grey suit while he played electric guitar, his hair held back in a low bun. And his voice… Jesus fucking Christ his voice…
By your side, Siobhán was staring at Alex, her mouth slightly agape, while his fingers travelled along the strings of his bass guitar…
Yeah, it looked like two of these lads would get very lucky tonight…
The rock song ended with a solo from Rory, who energetically beat his drums. You turned to Sheila as you heard her audibly gasping for air.
Yeah… make it three lucky lads tonight…
The crowd loudly cheered as they finished their first song, the noise attracting some newcomers. Good. You hoped more people would be attracted by their performance and come closer to their set. They had worked so hard for this…
And they were doing so good out there, indeed. Rory was on fire, Sebastian was amazing, Katie, even though she had had less time to get ready, was divine with her violin, Alex was doing the best performance you had witnessed from him so far and Andrew… Andrew was outstanding.
Of course, you knew that he was talented, you knew that he was a born musician, but witnessing it all on a huge stage at a festival was completely different from the small gatherings you had been to in small pubs. This time, he owned a full stage, effortlessly so. The second he opened his mouth, all eyes were on him. The fact that he was playing guitar only added to his charisma. And his voice… his voice…
You were so proud…
Three songs later and the crowd had doubled in size. Kilkenny was loud and enthusiastic, a proper crowd now gathered before the stage where Andrew and his band performed. The grey clouds were holding back their rain, for now, and heavy music warmed the listeners despite the coolness of early spring. It was all so loud and overwhelming, but it was so huge too, so professional… and the band thrived in it…
Alex walked closer to Andrew, whispered something to him while your husband was drinking a few gulps of water. But Andrew frowned and shook his head. They turned to the rest of the band, and Andrew shook his head again. He turned back to the mic stand, readjusted his guitar, tapped on the pedal board at his feet, and smiled to the crowd. Confident, charming…
He belonged up there…
Alex clenched his jaw, but lowered his head and said nothing, while everyone was getting ready for the next song. If the interaction had lasted but a handful of seconds and the crowd must have barely noticed anything, you and Siobhán knew your partners enough to read tension between the two friends. What was this about?
“How are you doing, folks?” Andrew asked in his quiet, warm voice, and the crowd loudly cheered. “Haaaa… I see you’re trying to keep warm in this very Irish weather, that’s good.”
The crowd cheered again.
“Well, as I want you to stay warm and energized, we’ll now perform a slow version of a rock song. Seems adequate…”
You laughed, shaking your head fondly at your husband. The dork…
He looked at you then, a crooked smile on his lips, a cocky spark in his stare. He gave you a wink that made your entire body combust, and then he played the first notes of Do I Wanna Know?
Your heart stumbled in your chest. You had begged him to include this song in the set, and he had. Now, you regretted your choice though, because you adored too much when he sang it in a sad, melancholic way, with longing dripping from every note… But him singing this song on stage while looking like pure sin was too much…
You were ready to hyperventilate when he started singing, his lips brushing the microphone while his gaze darkened and held your stare.
Have you got colour in your cheeks?
His voice so low, so deep, so warm, and that longing in his gaze…
You could hear his words again, his explanation on why he was taking the sadness of this song so far.
It makes me think of these months when we weren’t together, when you still wanted Frank and I was already head-over-heels for you. It hurt like hell. I can’t sing a song that reminds me of that in any other way…
This man would be the death of you…
You recognized the notes announcing the chorus. Andrew closed his eyes to sing the first verse, and then he was staring at you again, eyes almost begging.
Do I wanna know
If this feeling goes both ways
Sad to see you go
Was sorta hoping that you’d stay
Darling we both know
That the nights were mainly made
For saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day
He blinked a couple of times, his voice going even deeper, the longing in his tone unbearable. The fact that you knew that he was singing this about you made it almost too much. On one hand you were sorry for making him once suffer and feel such a sense of longing, on the other hand the thought that anyone could feel this way for you was too much for your heart to take.
Crawlin' back to you
Ever thought of callin' when
You've had a few?
'Cause I always do
Maybe I'm too
Busy bein' yours
To fall for somebody new
Now, I've thought it through
Crawlin' back to you
The band harmonised together instead of singing the next verse, Alex accompanying the rift Andrew played on electric guitar. You heard the girls standing behind you audibly gasp. You couldn’t blame them.
Andrew winced before singing again, this little grimace he made when singing to focus again and change his range or simply refocus his voice. And then the pre-chorus came back, and he sounded even more desperate than before. When his eyes fell on you again, you were ready to cry.
Do I wanna know
If this feeling goes both ways
Sad to see you go
Was sorta hoping that you’d stay
His voice shook at that word, and your soul left your body. There wasn’t another way to describe the effect this man had on you.
Behind you, an entire group was gasping, clutching at their hearts, covering their open mouths.
When the band stopped and they sang the last of the chorus acapella, there wasn’t a sound across the crowd. Everyone seemed hypnotised.
Crawlin' back to you
Ever thought of callin' when
You've had a few?
'Cause I always do
Maybe I'm too
Busy bein' yours
To fall for somebody new
Now, I've thought it through
Crawlin' back to you
Ever thought of callin' when
You've had a few?
'Cause I always do
Silence. It took the crowd a couple of seconds to come back from the stillness of that performance, and then the field exploded in cheers. You noticed then, as you finally landed back to earth after that suspended moment that the audience had significantly grown again. You wondered if anyone in the crowd worked for a label. That’s what Alex had said...
The musicians exchanged surprised looks at the volume of the crowd, a grin slowly forming on their faces. Andrew joined his hands together, a shaky thank you passing his lips. The cheers were deafening.
“Thanks so much,” Andrew repeated once the crowd was quieter and attentive again, shaking his hand in a gesture you recognized as both nervous and practical, a way to quiet the anxiety and regulate the blood flow in his fingers as he had been playing guitar for a while now. “Erm… We still have a few songs left, and… erm… we thought that we might play you a few original songs to end the set, instead of doing only covers, so we hope you’ll like those. I would have asked you to sing along, but no one has heard those before, so…” he waited for the laughs to die out, before speaking again. “Anyways, thanks so much for the warm welcome, you’re grand craic, Kilkenny. Thank you!”
The crowd cheered again, and Andrew seized the opportunity to drink a little bit of water. You noticed his hand shaking, and he looked for you in the crowd again. When your eyes met his, you mouthed the words you knew he needed to hear.
I’m so proud of you.
He smiled, mouthed a thank you, before turning to the band, swinging his guitar to his back and nodding as he was ready. Alex gave the ‘one, two, three…’ and Andrew’s voice rang through the parc again, just as Sebastian hit the first notes on the piano.
My lover’s got humour
She’s the giggle at the funeral
You mouthed the lyrics while Andrew sang, and Siobhán reached for your hand, sensing that you were too nervous as this original song was played. You hoped the public would react well to it. You hoped so, because you knew Andrew would be heartbroken if this was booed… it was one of his most famous poems, and a message that was so important to him and…
When the chorus ended, you were surprised to hear loud cheers. Andrew closed his eyes, probably to focus. He grabbed the mic stand and his voice became more aggressive as he went on, gesturing with one hand to follow his lyrics. And he was so into it, so passionate, his vocals flawless…
You were so fucking proud…
He hit himself on the chest when the chorus came back.
Take me to church
I’ll worship like a dog
At the shrine of your lies
I’ll tell you my sins
So you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
And good God, let me give you my life
The crowd was going crazy, arms raised and head moving, and people jumping with the rhythm, and clapping along. When the song died out, the audience roared. You and your friends exchanged an astonished glance.
Holy shit…
“Thank you,” Andrew grinned into the microphone, exchanging glances with the band. He was high on adrenaline, you knew it. He didn’t lose much time, swung back his guitar before him, and got ready to play their next song.
He caught your gaze before starting to sing, and you knew what he meant just with a glance.
I love you. It’s about you.
And then his voice, deep, shaky with emotions as he started singing.
Do you think I’d give up?
That this might have shook the love from me?
He had written that about you. Being ready to go through hell as long as he could love you, being ready to suffer any hardship to be with you, even if just for a minute…
And now he was singing about it, in front of a crowd that had started as curious and had turned into a huge tidal wave of emotions and cheers… it was overwhelming…
The chorus hit with bass, and guitar, and drums, and the crowd went crazy, jumping to the heavier beat. Meanwhile, Andrew stared at you with tears in his eyes.
If someone asked me at the end
I'll tell them put me back in it
Darling, I would do it again
He clenched his jaw for a second, as if to control a sudden surge of pain, and then his gaze was pleading again.
If I could hold you for a minute
Darling, I'd go through it again
I would still be surprised I could find you, darling
In any life
If I could hold you for a minute
Darling, I would do it again
Your world became blurry when you started crying, but then again, you reckoned you had hold on for an awfully long time before finally letting the tears out. You mouthed I love you, and the small smile that curved his lips told you he felt the same. Well… that and the fact that he was singing about how Heaven could never fit a love like the one you shared, too…
When the music died out, when Andrew closed his eyes to let out the last note, you were properly sobbing. Siobhán handed you a tissue, you would need more than one after that…
The crowd erupted into frenzied cheers again, and the band gathered at the centre of the stage to bow. You shouted and clapped as hard and loud as you could, while Andrew bent over a second, and then a third time. The clapping didn’t end, calling for an encore…
In this type of festivals, there wasn’t often an encore. The musicians turned questioningly towards a member of the staff organising the event to see if they could add another song. A few seconds later, a blond woman appeared by the organizer’s side, told her something, and the band was given a thumbs up for one more song.
The cheers doubled again.
“Thank you so much,” Andrew grinned. “Thank you, what an amazing crowd you are!”
But the member of staff waved at them, and Andrew hurried to go check what was wrong. The blond woman talked to him for a few seconds, and then Andrew went back to talk to the band. A few more seconds, and he was back before the mic.
“Alright, what would you guys think of another original tune to end the session?”
The crowd cheered, and the band grinned.
“Alright, let’s do something a little political then. Francesca was too romantic, got to keep you all on your toes.”
Andrew was grinning as he played the first notes of Eat Your Young.
You shook your head fondly at him.
You were so fucking proud of your husband, so damn proud…
When Andrew walked off the stage, he was high on adrenaline. Heart pounding, still unable to fully think straight. He was riding on the buzzing feeling of performing, and he loved it. He had loved every second of it. Despite his nerves, he had adored being up there on that stage, commending such a large crowd, the biggest he had ever performed for. And the response to his songs had been amazing, he was so fucking happy and…
“Hozier! There’s a woman who wants to see us,” Katie called for him.
“Who?”
“Alex says she works for a label,” his friend answered with wide eyes.
Andrew frowned. That was the only reaction he could muster, his brain seemed unable to register the information…
A label…
A label?!?!
He didn’t have time to ask another question or to process his friend’s words. Instead, Katie hurried backstage, and Andrew followed her.
He recognized that blond woman from the side of the stage earlier in an instant. She gave him a grin and offered him her open palm.
“Hi there! How are you? I’m Chelsey, I work for Universal.”
Andrew shook her hand more out of a reflex than anything else, his brain was still short-circuiting.
Universal?!
“Hi, I’m Andrew. Nice to meet you,” he mumbled, drying his palms over his jeans as discreetly as he could.
“I really liked your performance today, you have a very unique voice. Rich, powerful, with a distinctive signature.”
“Oh… Erm… Thank you…”
“You’re very emotional as well, when you sing, that’s really something we’re looking for at our label. Singers who are able to move people. You’re obviously very authentic. I’m guessing you’re the one who wrote and composed the original songs you played today.”
“Erm… yeah, I did. I… I write poetry, and sometimes I also compose some tunes to go with them.”
“A poet, huh? That explains the quality of the lyrics…”
“Thanks. That’s very nice of you to say that…”
She gave him a smile, one that he wasn’t sure he should trust.
“Well… do you think we could continue this conversation privately?”
Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, and turned to his friends. Alex clenched his jaw, but Rory, Katie and Sebastian merely nodded and walked away, dragging Alex with them. They didn’t go far, though, they went hiding behind some large boxes full of gear, but Chelsey didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t care.
The next act was getting ready to get on stage, and in the small space behind the stage, many people were walking around, but no one was paying Chelsey and Andrew any attention.
“Look, Andrew… I’m gonna be honest with you. I think you have a lot of potential, and it happens to be my job to spot new talents and give them a chance to join our label. Have you ever thought about doing this for a living?”
Andrew blinked at her, stunned.
Was she offering to sign him?
“I… Erm… when I was younger, sure, but… I have a job now.”
“And yet you’re still composing amazing songs, and playing gigs.”
“I… I don’t play that often.”
“You’re a natural on stage.”
“Thanks…”
“I think our team could help you make a living out of this. If all your songs are as good as the ones I’ve heard today… I’d like to make you an offer. Full contract. Album and tour. What would you say?”
Andrew blinked at her. Was he dreaming or was this real?
“An album?”
“And a tour, if the first single works out, of course. But that first original you sang? The church one… That could become a hit. I know it. And with our teams ready to help, we would do interviews, have radios ready to broadcast your song…”
“Wow…”
“So… what do you say? Want to sign up?”
“I…”
Andrew didn’t understand anything. This woman he had never met was offering him a contract at Universal. For an album and a tour. Just after hearing him sing a set and a few of his own songs? His younger self had dreamt of this…
“I… I would be recording my songs?”
“We’d work on them with a producer of course, but… yes. You’d record your songs.”
His songs…
He had dreamt of this…
Then, why was his instinctive response to decline?
He should have been overjoyed, he shouldn’t have hesitated for a second, and yet…
An album sounded amazing, but touring… touring meant leaving Wicklow. His parents, his friends, and what about his career? He couldn’t just… leave for several months and expect to keep his job at Trinity. Where would he work then? He would have to change university and if he couldn’t find another spot around Dublin, how would he manage his career when you worked in Dublin?
And you… you and Andrew were trying for a baby! He couldn’t leave and tour, that was impossible and… and he didn’t want to. Leave you? Spend weeks, maybe months without you?
No… That sensation was exhilarating and wonderful, he loved performing on stage but… It wasn’t worth it…
“I… I don’t know what to say,” he admitted.
“’Yes’ is the correct answer,” she half-joked, making him chuckle.
“Erm… I… what kind of contract would that be and… like… that’s very sudden… I’d need to think about that.”
She raised a surprised eyebrow. Clearly, she wasn’t used to people not accepting her offer straight away.
“Well… I could send you a first version of the contract in a few days, and you’ll think about it. What do you say?”
He nodded. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. If he spontaneously wanted to decline, he had to think this through first.
“That… that sounds grand. Yeah… Erm…”
“Alright, let’s do that! I’ll need your email address, and I’ll send you the details.”
“Right, thank you so much. I’m… I’m aware of what an amazing opportunity this is. Thank you.”
He gave her his email, and they kept on talking for a few minutes, before Chelsey went hunting for another talent at another set.
As soon as she was out of sight, the old band was gathering around Andrew again.
“Wow…” Sebastian breathed. “That was… unexpected.”
“I can’t believe it!” Katie chuckled, still aghast.
“We’re gonna get signed!” Alex added, overexcited.
But Rory shook his head.
“Hey! Everybody slows down! Andy was right to ask for some time. First, he needs to make sure that the contract is legit and fair. And then, he’ll see what he’ll do.”
“Of course,” Alex nodded. “But she seemed like the real deal, she talked with members of the staff and I asked around, they told me she did work for Universal, came every year to spot new talents, like she said. Christ! We’re gonna get signed!”
Andrew didn’t say anything, but his stomach twisted at the thought that popped in his mind. Unless Chelsey had talked to the rest of the band without him, she seemed interested in signing him, not the band…
He was distracted by a familiar jacket, he spotted you easily as you made your way backstage with Siobhán and Sheila.
“Don’t tell Y/N yet,” he asked his friends.
“Why not?” Katie frowned hard.
“I just… I need to think this through. On my own.”
“You think she’d ask you not to sign?” Alex asked, clearly worried now.
“No… No, I reckon she’d told me the opposite… But I just… I don’t know, we’re not even sure this Chelsey is really going to send a contract, we don’t know what it’s going to entail… I’ll talk to her later. Once I’ve thought about it and have a clear idea of what this is about. Alright?”
They all nodded, as you finally reached the group. You hurried in Andrew’s arms, and he held you tightly against him.
“You did so good! All of you guys did so good!”
But you went on your tiptoes and whispered just for your husband to hear.
“But you were the best of them all, honey!”
He laughed at that, shook his head fondly at you.
“Thanks, love. Did you have fun?”
“You were amazing. Genuinely, baby. You were extraordinary out there. You sang so well, and you played guitar so well and you looked so fucking hot…”
He laughed again at that last part.
“Thanks. My wife recommended me this outfit.”
“Hmmm… she has good taste.”
“She sure does.”
You bit your lower lip, making his heart stumble and his body heat up. Your voice was low and terribly smooth when you whispered again in his ear.
“I hope we can get home soon…”
“Yeah?” Andrew tried to sound casual but his throat was tightening as his heart sped up, hands inching towards your waist. “And what do you have in mind exactly?”
You rested your hand over his chest, and he was certain that you could feel his pounding heart. You went on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, making him choke on his own breath.
“Something… that involves riding…”
You bit on your lower lip again when Andrew pulled away just enough to look at you, and he was gone for…
He cleared his throat, trying to control the reactions of his body to your words because he would never survive the shame involved in getting a boner now…
“That… definitely sounds like a plan. I really should perform more often if that gets me so easily laid…”
You laughed at that.
“The perks of having a hot husband.”
He chuckled at that, blushing hard. But then you grew more serious again, the sensual look in your eyes fading in favour of something more loving.
You took his face in your hands, staring right into his eyes. And he knew you meant the words you spoke then, there was nothing but genuine awe in your stare when the praises passed your lips.
“You are so talented. I am so, so, sooooo proud of you, honey! I couldn’t be prouder! I love you so much!”
He felt tears gathering in his eyes, coming to blur your gorgeous face, and he bent down to kiss you before he got too overwhelmed and couldn’t refrain his tears.
He held you so close, maybe for too long but he didn’t care. He buried his face in your hair and breathed deeply that sweet fruity scent of your shampoo, the one that was carved in his lungs by now.
“Thank you, darling. I love you so much too. So fucking much…”
Chapter 14: ‘To whom I owe the leaping delight that quickens my senses in our wakingtime’
Hi, everyone! Here’s a new chapter! Very cute one!!!
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU), Sequel to Love in Verses, dadzier.
Warnings: fluff (a disgusting amount), angst for secondary characters, smut so 18+ only There are no warnings concerning the pregnancy (no infertility issues, no miscarriage, only tooth-rotting fluff)
Summary: Your life is perfect. You're married to the love of your life, your career is thriving as you work at Trinity College, in Dublin. You've settled down with your husband, and it seems that life is perfect these days. And yet, there's a tugging at your heart whenever you see baby clothes, a longing for something more. What if you wanted to be a mother? Are you ready to let this new joy enter your life?
Word Count: 3030
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
A Dedication to my Wife
To whom I owe the leaping delight
That quickens my senses in our wakingtime
And the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleepingtime,
The breathing in unison
Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other
Who think the same thoughts without need of speech
And babble the same speech without need of meaning.
No peevish winter wind shall chill
No sullen tropic sun shall winter
The roses in the rose-garden which is ours and ours only
But this dedication is for others to read:
These are private words addressed to you in public.
T.S Eliot, Collected Poems
The announcement of the nominees for the Irish Book Awards was set at 11 am.
Had you given your students some work to do on their own during this class so you could be on your computer at precisely 11 to read your husband’s interview?
Absolutely.
You threw your students a quick look, scanning the tables facing you covered with years of graffiti, the room smelling of coffee and dust and chalk and a tinge of bitter sweat, like all classrooms. But these students were completing their masters this year. They didn’t need you for this assignment, you were in the clear.
10:59, you couldn’t wait…
11!
You clicked on the website, went onto the poetry section…
And there he was. Wearing this brown shirt you adored, the ghost of a smile on his lips, while his long curls framed his face.
Damn, he looked so good…
You clicked on his name.
Nominee for Best Poem of the Year: Andrew Hozier-Byrne
Your heart was beating so fast as the interview appeared.
You were so proud. So fucking proud…
You started reading, unaware of the rest of the world as you did. At first, it was a short paragraph about his three poetry collections, about his work as an academic.
You couldn’t refrain both pride and a touch of jealousy when the interviewer described Andrew as ‘awfully charming’ when they met at a coffeeshop. ‘Polite, a little shy, and awfully charming’, that was her description, right before she gushed over his eyes and hair. Well… you couldn’t blame her, it was a spot-on description, after all.
And then the interview started.
Andrew’s answers were smart, clear, a little shy sometimes. Your heart made happy jumps when he was asked about the political dimension of his work. It was so him…
Hozier-Byrne: I think that any piece of art is political. If it speaks of how you live your life, your experience in society, then it’s political. A child’s drawing is political, it’ll describe their social environment… The question is whether, to me… to engage with it explicitly or not. And most of the time, I do. About this problematic in particular, it’s just… something that scares me a lot, the climate of fascism that’s settling in… this tendency to move backwards on many social issues. Abortion and rights to contraception that’s… to me these are the basics of freedom for a woman. And it scares me a lot that we could go backwards when it comes to those. There’s so much left to do when it comes to equality between men and women, and now we’re heading in the wrong direction all over again…
Int: Is that why you wrote this poem? To make things change? Does that have any link to women in your life perhaps?
Hozier-Byrne: I don’t know if that poem is going to change anything, but I also didn’t know what to do about foreign politics, besides relaying some posts on socials and signing petitions…
Int: That’s already something.
Hozier-Byrne: It didn’t feel like it was enough at all. I didn’t really know what more I could do, as a man, and being in Ireland. Writing is kind of the only thing I know how to do, so I had this idea in my head for a few days. We talked a lot with my wife about that policy, and that’s when I thought… might as well write it, you know? To show some support, even if there isn’t much more I can do. But then again, maybe it’ll make a few people think about it, and if people come together, then we can do something. I’m really hoping being nominated for this award is going to bring that. That more people are going to read that poem and think about that issue and do something about it.
You chuckled as the interviewer described your husband as ‘a blushing mess’ when she asked her next question.
Int: Does your wife have an impact on your poetry?
Hozier-Byrne: Of course, she does. She’s my wife. She has an impact on everything in my life.
Int: In a good way?
Hozier-Byrne: (laughs) In the best way.
You refrained a squeal at his words by biting into your hand, and reread his answer a couple of times.
Int: Is she the one who talked to you about this issue, then?
Hozier-Byrne: We saw it on the news together, and… we obviously talked a lot about it together. And… my wife’s an academic too, you know? And she specializes on feminism and the female gaze in literature, so I have an expert at home on all these questions, and I can always rely on her to educate myself and try to be a better ally on these causes. So, of course, when we heard the news, it was a major source of worry in our household. She’s the one who recommended articles comparing misogyny and what the patriarchy imposes on women with colonialism, which I used extensively in my poem, especially after reading some of Mona Eltahawy’s work.
Int: I think I’d get along well with your wife, she sounds badass.
Hozier-Byrne: ‘(laughs) Oh, she is… very badass, indeed. I’m sure you two would get along fine.
You refrained another squeal. This man would be the death of you…
Int: Your poetry has a lot of musicality into it. When reading it, I wanted to say it out loud. Is that intentional? Or do you play music as well, perhaps?
Hozier-Byrne: I used to sing and play guitar a lot when I was younger, composing and stuff. Didn’t work out professionally, but I think I’ve kept some habits from writing lyrics, for sure. I do enjoy thinking about poems as spoken first. It’s important to me, in the rhythm and patterns of poems, for them to sound good when spoken out loud. It was an artform that originally was supposed to be spoken, rather than written, you know? And yeah, the fact that I used to write lyrics definitely still influences that, and makes it even more important in my writing, for sure.
Int: Do you still play music, then?
Hozier-Byrne: Sometimes, with the old band, yeah. Nothing big, a few gigs here and there, but… it’s fun.
Int: Do you still write songs, then? Should we expect an album soon?
Hozier-Byrne: (laughing) God, no! No album, no… I write a bit of music, sometimes, to go with the poems but… nothing worth listening to for anyone but me, really. I’m very lucky that my wife is supportive of all these artistic endeavours of mine, and she’s really encouraged me to compose again, and to lean a little more into that when writing, and I think it’s done me a lot of good.
Int: Does that mean that you write songs for her?
Hozier-Byrne: (back to the heavy blushing) Sometimes, yeah…
Int: I’m officially jealous of your wife!
Hozier-Byrne: (blushing, laughing and trying to land me down with grace) Thanks, I guess… But that also involves listening to me repeat the same rift on my guitar for two hours straight, so really… she’s a saint for her patience, and you should not envy her.
There were a few more questions about his upcoming projects, his academic work on poetry…
The final sentence was the interviewer noting how nice Andrew had been throughout the interview, and that she was a little smitten with him.
You’d need a lot of kisses to forget about that pang of jealousy, but again… you couldn’t blame her…
“Professor?”
You jumped to look up at Saoirse and Sean, who were both staring at you.
“The class is over, can we leave?”
“Oh… yes, sorry…”
You stood up, gave the class a few things to do for next week. Saoirse remained behind with Sean, though.
“Is it still okay for our meeting tomorrow? I have a lot of questions.”
You smiled at her.
“Of course, I’ll see you tomorrow. And I’m sorry if I was a little distracted at the end of the class.”
You knew what her gaze meant as it lit up. And you liked that girl, she was sweet and hardworking and smart. And you just wanted to gush over your husband with everyone you’d talk to today.
“It’s just… my husband is short-listed for the Irish Awards, for his poetry.”
Both your students grinned.
“That’s amazing! Wait… I didn’t even know he wrote poetry! How could I not know that?!”
You laughed at her.
“He doesn’t brag about it. It’s very good though.”
“Oh my God… Well, congratulations to him!”
“Thank you!”
They hadn’t left the room that Saoirse was picking up her phone.
“We need to go to the bookstore right now, babe! Right fucking now!”
You laughed at them, but you were so proud.
So damn proud…
The tension in the room could have been cut by a knife.
Only five days left before the gig. This was the last rehearsal with the full band before a quick meeting on the day. Andrew’s fingers and throat were growing painful, but he didn’t think about complaining. Nerves were getting to him too, and the more prepared he would be for this, the better…
By his side, Rory was drinking some water, enjoying a well-deserved break. They were waiting for Alex to get ready, he was checking something with the equipment. Andrew checked his watch. It was almost 6 pm, he would have to leave soon, to go home to celebrate his birthday with his family.
Everyone had wished him a happy birthday, a bottle of whiskey and some ugly socks were tugged away in his backpack. Except for Alex. He arrived last at Rory’s, and forgot what day it was, apparently. Andrew forced himself to think that it was alright, he was simply busy… but in reality he was disappointed. He pushed the thought away as Alex plugged in his bass guitar again. It was nothing, Alex was simply too nervous about the gig. He would be back to normal after Sunday had passed…
“Alright, let’s run through your songs again, Andy.”
Andrew noticed at once the tone Alex used, the one that meant he was forcing the words out. Was he against playing these songs? He had been the one offering…
“Something wrong with them?”
Alex took a moment to answer.
“No… nothing’s wrong, it’s just… we’re in a big festival… shouldn’t we do covers instead?”
But Sebastian let out a frustrated sigh.
“No, Alex! We’re not doing this! We’ve decided on the setlist, and we’re not changing our plans five days before the gig! We’ve spent weeks rehearsing these songs! Besides, we all agreed that Andy’s songs were incredible, and they deserve to be performed on stage at least once! We’re keeping Andy’s songs on the setlist.”
Slowly, Alex nodded…
“Yeah, you’re right…”
“You’re panicking,” added Rory, while Katie was nodding and tuning her violin.
Again, Alex agreed and got ready to play.
They rehearsed all of their songs again, played the whole gig, and then played through a few songs again, until everyone was tired, and the songs sounded perfect.
“Should we call it a day?” offered Andrew, and all nodded.
While they packed up their stuff, Andrew nudged his best friend.
“We’ll be fine, for the gig I mean.”
“Yeah… you’re right. Don’t mind me, I’m just nervous.”
Andrew merely hummed, adjusting the bottle of whiskey in his bag. Alex frowned at the sight.
“Why do you have that in your bag? You’re planning on getting drunk? Without me?”
Andrew laughed.
“I’m not drinking any alcohol these days, actually. With Y/N and I trying for a baby, it wouldn’t be good. Rory gave it to me for after we’ve had the baby.”
“He’s planning ahead! Already getting you daddy gifts when you’re not even expecting!”
“It’s still nice. Besides, it’s good whiskey! Gonna have to hide it from my brother and dad tonight though, or there won’t be any left for me!”
“You’re seeing your family today?”
“Sure, my mam would have my head if I didn’t drop by today.”
“Today…?”
But then Alex’s brain seemed to function again.
“It’s your birthday.”
Andrew laughed at his friend’s face.
“It is…”
“I forgot!”
“It’s alright…”
“I’m sorry…”
“Never mind. You’re busy.”
“Sorry.”
When Andrew looked up at his friend again, he seemed exhausted.
“You’re alright?”
But Alex shrugged.
“I don’t know… I think… I’m a little overwhelmed these days. With the gig and everything… Siobhán’s giving me a hard time too.”
“Really? How so?”
“Ha… don’t worry about it. She’s just… I don’t know… she’s a bit frustrated with me these days. Which I get, I’m working a lot. We’ll be fine, though. We love each other, we’ll be fine.”
Slowly, Andrew nodded.
“I know you love each other dearly… but love isn’t always enough. You have to put some work in, for a relationship to work…”
“Look, I appreciate the intention… but I don’t need any advice, Andy.”
“Alright…”
“Well, happy birthday again, have a nice evening with your family!”
“Thanks!”
Andrew stared at his friend as he hurried towards the door.
He couldn’t refrain the terrible feeling he had as he watched his friend leaving…
There was something very special about coming back to his parents’ home.
It didn’t feel like home, not in the same way that the house he shared with you did. Your house felt like the present and the future, it felt like the million kisses you would share in the living room, the thousands of nights you’d cuddle in bed, the many meals you’d cook in the kitchen, the baby you would raise in these safe and comfortable rooms. But his parents’ home felt like the past. A little nostalgic, hosting a thousand memories that bloomed every time he set foot in the hallway. There was something unbelievably safe and reassuring in walking through these rooms he had grown in, with the familiar sweet scent of an apple pie cooling in the kitchen, just out of the oven. The sound of his father turning the pages of his newspaper. The family pictures over the mantlepiece. The booming voice of his brother as he broke into a fit of laughter.
As he walked in, Andrew felt like he was seventeen all over again, coming home from school and about to sneak a peek at his family, a fond feeling in his heart at the sight, before heading to his bedroom and studying… or probably playing some guitar.
“Ouch! I’m stuck! Help!”
Andrew turned to you, chuckling as he helped you untangle yourself with your own coat. The pocket had gotten caught in the doorknob…
“Thanks, honey.”
You smiled, kissed his jaw before walking inside the living room, ignoring the blushing that spread across Andrew’s face.
He hugged his parents and his brother, started chatting while you helped Jon setting up the table. Nothing big this year, he didn’t want anyone else invited on the day. He had spent his afternoon with his friends, he merely wanted a quiet evening with those he loved most on this earth this evening. The core of his family…
You settled around the table, listening to Jon update you on the progress of this short film he was making. And it was warm and safe around this familiar table, the way it had always been, and would always be. Luckily, some things were not meant to change…
“I have some good whiskey, Andy!” John smiled. “I reckon your birthday is a good reason to open it!”
But Andrew suddenly blushed.
“Erm… no alcohol for me, thanks.”
His brother gave him a mocking look.
“Oh, come on! Y/N can drive tonight, it’s your birthday!”
But you and Andrew exchanged a glance. You gave him a smile, one that meant for him to announce your project to his parents. Andrew’s heart was beating a thousand miles a minute, while he ran his fingers through his hair.
“Erm… no, it’s not that. I… Y/N and I aren’t drinking any alcohol these days.”
His mother narrowed her eyes.
“Really? Any special reason?”
He took a deep breath, struggled and failed to refrain a grin.
“Erm… we’re… we’re trying for a baby.”
The room erupted with cries of surprise and joy, making both of you laugh.
“Don’t get excited! Nothing’s happened yet, we’re at the ‘trying’ stage of the whole ordeal!” you argued when Raine walked around the table to give you a hug.
“Alright, I need to know everything!” Raine ordered, sitting down without bringing any drink or food in anymore. “Last time you were merely discussing it!”
“We went to see my OB-GYN, and she told us that everything is fine with me, basically! We can try safely to have a baby. So… I’ve been off the pill for about… two months. So, it will take a while for me to get pregnant! Erm… but the OB-GYN told us to cut on drinking, smoking and stuff like that while trying, so we’ve been cutting on alcohol and this kind of stuff…”
“Don’t worry, I’ll drink that whiskey as soon as Y/N’s pregnant!” Andrew joked, making his father laugh.
He wrapped a protective arm around your shoulders, making you look up at him.
“Nothing’s gonna happen for a while though, we were warned by Y/N’s doctor that it will likely take a year or so. So, don’t get too excited for now!”
“I’m going to be a grandma…” Raine breathed, a little aghast, ignoring her son’s remark and making you both fondly laugh at her.
“Eventually…” Andrew nodded.
“We hope so,” you added.
You exchanged a smile. But Andrew didn’t have any doubt about this. It would work, with a little bit of time. And who knew, maybe for his next birthday, you’d be refusing a drink again, this time because of a little angel waiting to be born. And this home that saw him grow would see his child grow too, and they would find in its rooms the same warmth and love he had been raised within.
He’d be happy to refuse another whiskey for that. Very happy, indeed…
Chapter 13: ‘Whatever happens with us, your body will haunt mine’
Hi, everyone! Here’s a new chapter! Guys, there’s smut in there, MDNI!!!
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU), Sequel to Love in Verses, dadzier.
Warnings: fluff (a disgusting amount), angst for secondary characters, smut so 18+ only There are no warnings concerning the pregnancy (no infertility issues, no miscarriage, only tooth-rotting fluff)
Summary: Your life is perfect. You're married to the love of your life, your career is thriving as you work at Trinity College, in Dublin. You've settled down with your husband, and it seems that life is perfect these days. And yet, there's a tugging at your heart whenever you see baby clothes, a longing for something more. What if you wanted to be a mother? Are you ready to let this new joy enter your life?
Word Count: 2658
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
The Floating Poem, Unnumbered
Whatever happens with us, your body
will haunt mine—tender, delicate
your lovemaking, like the half-curled frond
of the fiddlehead fern in forests
just washed by sun. Your traveled, generous thighs
between which my whole face has come and come—
the innocence and wisdom of the place my tongue has found there—
the live, insatiate dance of your nipples in my mouth—
your touch on me, firm, protective, searching
me out, your strong tongue and slender fingers
reaching where I had been waiting for years for you
in my rose-wet cave—whatever happens, this is.
Adrienne Rich, Twenty-One Love Poems
“Oh, fuck…”
Andrew’s voice was rough, a low growl coming from the depth of his chest. Like gravel. Like he wasn’t aware of the sounds his body let out. His eyes were almost closed; you knew he was still staring at you, at your skin, your bare chest, your naked shoulders, the mess his fingers had made of your hair, your parted lips…
You moaned louder as Andrew gripped your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers just the way you liked.
This man would be the death of you…
You steadied yourself resting a hand on his chest, right over his heart, feeling the organ pulsing under your palm, while you moved your hips just a little faster, just at the right angle for both of you to stop breathing.
His grip on your waist tightened, he let out a strangled breath.
“So good…” he let out the praise in a breath, his chest heaving.
You looked down at the rising and falling of his chest, the perspiration pearling over the marble of his skin, your fingers grazing over the patch of hair over his breasts.
Then the column of his neck… long, white like foam over the winter sea, glistening in the golden light of morning, the bopping of his Adam’s apple when he moaned loudly. Your vision blurred for a moment as he moved his hips in perfect sync with yours, just right…
“God, Andy…”
He blinked his eyes open, staring up at you, right into your gaze and catching your soul in the process. This man owned it all: your soul, your heart, your life, your body…
Your body… he knew it by heart, knew every way to overwhelm you with pleasure, knew precisely how to make you come undone. It felt so intimate, to be so thoroughly known even for sex…
Those hazel eyes… those beautiful, gorgeous hazel eyes…
He threw back his head against the pillows, his long curls splayed across the white cotton in a perfect halo. The most gorgeous sight on earth…
But then he hit that spot again, just right, perfect, the way only he had ever touched you, the way only he could… and the whole world disappeared, your eyes closing over white stars, your ears ringing as you forgot how to breathe.
When the waves of pleasure receded, you heard Andrew’s breathing again, laboured and loud in your bedroom, felt his pounding heart under your palm, felt the sweat under your fingers. You blinked your eyes open just as your shaking legs finally gave way, going limp around his hips. But Andrew grabbed you by the waist to steady you.
“Alright?” he asked, voice hoarse.
His voice during sex… the hottest sound in the world, by far.
You nodded, unable to summon words for now, your head still buzzing with happy chemicals.
You let Andrew guide your body next to his on the bed, his movements cautious, gentle. He dropped a kiss on your shoulder before wrapping you in a tight embrace, letting you snuggle into his chest, your forehead resting over his collarbone.
You breathed deeply his scent: his cologne and sweat and sex…
“Wow…” was his next word, making you both laugh.
You nodded in agreement.
“Wow, indeed.”
“You know… I really like that part of the ‘baby-making plan’,” Andrew went on, rubbing at his eyes to keep them open, his breathing still laboured, although he tried to calm down his racing heart.
“Me too,” you nodded, kissing his shoulder. “My favourite part, by far.”
“Me too.”
You looked up at him, at his irises still blown by his pleasure, at the mess of his hair, at his gorgeous lips… you kissed them before you could think about it.
“I love you,” you whispered into his skin while you kissed his cheek, his jaw, his neck.
He hummed, content, and he rubbed soothing circles into your hip.
“I love you too.”
Your breathing was barely back to normal when his phone rang, but he didn’t move an inch to take the call.
“You’re not answering?”
“Absolutely the fuck not.”
You laughed, shaking your head.
“Your wife is having a bad influence on you, is that it?”
“My wife just fucked me into oblivion, and there’s no way I can move a muscle right now, let alone hold a full conversation with anyone.”
You both laughed, but you didn’t deny it.
You were curious though, and were closer to his phone than he was, as you had somehow switched sides of the bed during sex. You reached for his buzzing phone to see who was calling…
“Who is it?” Andrew asked, before clearing his throat, his breathing finally back to normal.
“Alex.”
He groaned.
“Yeah, that’s a no. Leave it to voicemail.”
“Is everything alright between you two?”
Andrew heaved a sigh, pulled you closer again as you put his phone back on the nightstand.
“Yeah, he’s just… I don’t know, he’s stressing out for the gig, I think. A little too much. It’s becoming seriously annoying, to be honest. But he’ll be fine once this is over.”
“It’s a big gig,” you nodded, running soothing fingers through his hair. “Aren’t you nervous?”
“I am. But I’m not being a prick over it.”
“Fair enough…”
He reached for the sheets as he noticed the shivers that ran across your arm, covered you with the soft cotton without a word. You smiled.
“I think… he’s hoping to get signed. Like… that’s a big festival. There for sure will be some agents and people from labels out there, trying to find new talents.”
“You don’t seem optimistic,” you pointed out, grazing your fingers across his ribs.
“I genuinely hope the gig will open doors for him. But realistically, I don’t think it’ll be as life-changing as he hopes it’ll be.”
You drew mindless patterns over his chest with your fingertips while you lost yourself in your own thoughts for a moment.
“Do you think it’ll open doors for you?”
Andrew shifted next to you, readjusting his arm to hold you tighter against him.
“I don’t think so, no.”
“Really? You’re the lead singer, and you’re gonna sing some of your songs…”
“I let this chance go years ago. These… they come once in a lifetime. It’s over for me.”
You were surprised that he didn’t sound sad about it, but when you asked him as much, he laughed.
“Why would I be sad? I have a job I love, my career as a poet is successful, and I have you, and soon we’ll have a baby… My life is sweet. In another universe, it might have been different, perhaps there the other me is singing for a career but… I don’t know if he’s happier than I am. I doubt he would be. I have a lot of happiness and joy in my life, darling. Most of it, thanks to you.”
You kissed him, emotional and so, so tender. He read the words you meant in your kiss.
“You know… if you had another opportunity like that… I’d be here for you. We could make it work,” you reassured him, but Andrew shook his head, smiling.
“I know, love. But I won’t have another chance. I’m not even sure I’d want it. It’s different for Alex, it’s his job. I’m just… worrying that he’s choosing his career these days over other things in his life that are making him happy, and he might regret it one day. I just hope he’ll notice before it’s too late.”
You knew he was talking about Siobhán, and you thought the same. You hoped he wouldn’t regret his decisions either.
Your train of thoughts was interrupted by the grumbling noise of your hungry stomach, that made both of you laugh.
“Sounds like someone needs a snack.”
“Well… it’ll soon be noon.”
“You go clean up, I’ll get you something to eat.”
You smiled at him.
“Thank you, honey.”
You dropped a sweet peck on his lips, before sitting up. You had to get up fully to reach his shirt, but Andrew stopped you when you were about to bend down to pick it up from the floor.
“Turn around,” he whispered.
When you looked at him again, his eyes had darkened with want. He wetted his lips, before taking in a long, shaky breath.
“Never mind cleaning up.”
“What?”
He gently yet firmly pulled you back towards the bed.
“I’ll go get you a snack and some water, and then we’re up for round two.”
You laughed, making him chuckle and blush. Still, he pulled you closer while he sat up, wrapping his arms around you as he buried his face into your chest.
“You’re absolutely gorgeous…” he whispered, his voice suave and tempting. “Fucking breathtaking…”
His lips trailed down the valley of your breasts, making you sigh.
“What about my snack?” you asked as his hands moved from your back to your arse.
He didn’t answer, merely threw you on the bed by his side, making you laugh in surprise.
“Stay right here, we have some baby-making to do,” he grinned at you, bright and playful. “Besides, we need to take advantage of every minute before this baby comes.”
“How so?”
“Well… first because we’ll both be exhausted, and won’t be able to spend our Sunday mornings in bed once they’re here. And because we’ll have to be quiet once we have a baby in the house. It’s now or never if I want to hear these gorgeous sounds you make when I fuck you.”
Your breath staggered in your throat.
“You’re as loud as I am.”
He chuckled, but didn’t deny it.
“We’ll have to learn to do this without making any noise.”
“That… will be a hell of a challenge.”
“I know. But right now there’s no baby, and I can coax all these beautiful sounds from you, and make them as loud as I want.”
You bit on your lip before you pulled him down for a long, messy kiss.
“You really think you can do that to me?”
His eyes burnt, his body trembled with anticipation.
“Fucking watch me…”
He went to attack your neck with love bites and kisses, making you dizzy. But you gently pushed on his shoulders to make him stop.
“My snack first.”
He groaned, but nodded. Only, he tried to stand up too fast, and his height and low blood-pressure made his legs give way. Well… that and the fact that he had not yet fully recovered from round one yet, and his legs still felt like jelly…
“You’re alright?”
He huffed, before standing straighter again.
“Fine.”
“Was that the height? Or me? Fucking you into oblivion?”
He glowered at your smug, cocky grin. His tongue poked against the inside of his cheek as he stared at you.
“Don’t worry, it’s your time to be fucked into oblivion, darling.”
Your breath staggered at the promise, but first he went to the kitchen to get you a snack and some water.
You would never admit how impatient you were waiting for him to come back to your bedroom. But then again, the wait was worth it… more than worth it…
This Sunday was bloody perfect.
After your sensual morning, you had decided to stay home and simply enjoy a lazy day together. You were still working hard on your conference in Oxford, and Andrew spent most of his free time preparing that festival. He reckoned that you both needed a relaxing day.
Andrew was trying to read, but his mind was wandering off. You were lounged on the sofa, your head on his laps, while he played with your hair absentmindedly. Elwood was chewing on a toy, zooming across the room from time to time when the ball covered with little daisies escaped from his jaws and rolled across the room.
And it was a good book Andrew was reading, but he simply… couldn’t focus.
He thought about this festival he had, the conference he had to start preparing for the following month, the upcoming essays he needed to get ready for his students.
He also needed to ask his mother for her opinion on private and public clinics. He had to buy some toothpaste and some tomatoes. And when did you have your period for the last time? The doctor had told you your cycles would be irregular for a while after stopping your contraceptive pills, but… a good 5 or maybe 6 weeks… or maybe not that long…
His phone rang, making both of you jump. But you didn’t move an inch, lost yourself again in the novel you were reading while Andrew was picking up his phone.
He frowned. What could Caroline want on a Sunday?
“Hello?”
“Andy! Are you sitting? Cause you need to sit down if you aren’t!”
His frown only deepened.
“I am sitting, yes… What’s wrong? Is there a problem with the poems I sent you?”
“No, no, no! No problem. On the contrary! Andy, you remember that poem you wrote a few months ago? Against the abortion bans in the US?”
“Yeah… sure… of course… why?”
“It’s shortlisted, Andy! It’s shortlisted!”
“Shortlisted? For what?”
“For THE IRISH BOOK AWARDS!”
Andrew blinked.
“What?”
“’Swan Upon Leda’ is shortlisted for the Irish Book Awards, in the Poem of the Year category.”
He blinked again, not noticing that you were now intently listening, trying to understand the conversation even if you couldn’t hear Caroline over the phone.
“You’re kidding me,” Andrew mumbled, but his agent denied it, and repeated one more time the good news.
“What’s going on?” you asked, looking up at him with a frown.
He turned to you.
“I’m shortlisted for the Irish Book Awards.”
Your eyes grew round.
“What?!”
“They’ve already called me to ask for an interview,” Caroline went on. “How about next Friday? Are you free next Friday?”
“Next Friday? As in… in five days?” Andrew asked.
“Yes, that’s the definition of ‘next Friday’,” Caroline laughed.
“Erm… I don’t know… Am I free next Friday?” he asked you, while you shrugged.
“Check your calendar,” you answered with an amused smile.
“Oh… right…”
He was shortlisted for an award. For his poetry?!
“Erm… I’m free after 4 pm,” he told Caroline.
“Perfect! I’ll let them know, and set up everything. I’ll let you know the details. Congratulations, Andy!”
“Thanks…”
After giving him more information about social media, announcements and such, Caroline finally hung up. Andrew let his phone fall on his laps. Meanwhile you were sitting by his side, staring at him.
“What did she say?” you asked.
He blinked, his mouth opening and closing several times.
“’Swan Upon Leda’ is shortlisted for the Irish Book Awards. For the ‘Poem of the Year’ category.”
“Oh my God!”
You jumped in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Christ! Baby! That’s amazing! Congratulations!”
“I… I don’t know what to say…”
“That’s amazing!”
You took his face in your hands to force him to focus on you. You were grinning, overexcited for him.
“I’m so proud of you!”
Tears rose to his eyes, he hurried to dry them on his sleeve.
“I can’t wrap my head around it…”
“Wow… My husband is going to receive an award for his poetry…”
He rolled his eyes.
“I’m not gonna win…”
“No! I don’t want to hear that! Don’t start being pessimistic! You’re so gonna win… I can feel it…”
He smiled, tears back in his eyes, but it wasn’t because of the nomination, it wasn’t because of a possible award…
You were always so loving, so supportive of all his artistic endeavours, so proud of him…
He leaned down to kiss you, slow and tender and soft, making your breath stagger when he pulled away.
“Thank you. My muse.”
You shied away, a grin on your lips, while you buried your face in his shoulder to hide. Yeah… this was a very, very good day…
Chapter 12: ‘The nurse a passenger in front, you ensconced in her vacated corner seat, me flat on my back – our postures all the journey still the same’
Hi, everyone! Here’s a new cute chapter!
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU), Sequel to Love in Verses, dadzier.
Warnings: fluff (a disgusting amount), angst for secondary characters, smut so 18+ only There are no warnings concerning the pregnancy (no infertility issues, no miscarriage, only tooth-rotting fluff)
Summary: Your life is perfect. You're married to the love of your life, your career is thriving as you work at Trinity College, in Dublin. You've settled down with your husband, and it seems that life is perfect these days. And yet, there's a tugging at your heart whenever you see baby clothes, a longing for something more. What if you wanted to be a mother? Are you ready to let this new joy enter your life?
Word Count: 3475
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
Chanson d’Aventure
I
Strapped on, wheeled out, forklifted, locked
In position for the drive,
Bone-shaken, bumped at speed,
The nurse a passenger in front, you ensconced
In her vacated corner seat, me flat on my back –
Our postures all the journey still the same,
Everything and nothing spoken,
Our eyebeams threaded laser-fast, no transport
Ever like it until then, in the sunlit cold
Of a Sunday morning ambulance
When we might, O my love, have quoted Donne
On love on hold, body and soul apart.
II
Apart: the very word is like a bell
That the sexton Malachy Boyle outrolled
In illo tempore in Bellaghy
Or the one I tolled in Derry in my turn
As college bellman, the haul of it there still
In the hell of my once capable
Warm hand, hand that I could not feel you lift
And lag in yours throughout that journey
When it lay flop-heavy as bellpull
And we careered at speed through Dunaloe,
Glendoan, our gaze ecstatic and bisected
By a hooked-up drip-feed to the cannula.
III
The Charioteer at Delphi holds his own,
His six horses and chariot gone,
His left hand lopped
From a wrist protruding like an open spout,
Bronze reins astream in his right, his gaze ahead
Empty as the space where the team should be,
His eyes-front straight-backed posture like my own
Doing physio in the corridor, holding up
As if once more I’d found myself in step
Between two shafts, another’s hand on mine
Each slither of the share, each stone it hit
Registered like a pulse in a the timbered grips.
Seamus Heaney, Human Chain
Andrew was frustrated today.
With you, for one thing. With his classes, for another. With his mother, for last.
With his mother, because she refused his help. She had gone to the hospital to run some tests this morning, and thank God, they had found that everything was fine with her. She had suffered headaches and struggled with her eyesight these days, but the doctors had been reassuring. There was nothing terrible happening, and she needed to go see her usual doctor again to run more tests. The scariest possibilities had been discarded, and she was now certain that the problem came simply from a need to change her glasses. And Andrew was relieved, of course, but he had been adamant about taking her there and accompanying her through this stressful time, but she refused. Hence, a dispute. She infuriated him. Always so bloody stubborn…
Then there were his classes, or to be more precise, a couple of second-year students who seemed adamant on pissing him off. It was rare for Andrew to lose his cool in front of a class, but this morning, he had had enough. The pair was chatting at the back of the class, lost on their phones and distracting other students, and Andrew as well. He had to ask them to leave, actually. He needed to go see Lydia to deal with the situation now.
And he was frustrated with you as well. Which was rare, and particularly unpleasant. You were in a bad mood this morning, and were fussing over a ton of little things and were just all in all getting on his nerves. The fact that you sided with his mother about the hospital did not help. And the fact that you were as stubborn as her did not help either. You had a row before leaving and had decided to drive in different cars, despite being able to go to work together today. You were supposed to meet up for lunch, but Andrew wasn’t sure he wanted to eat with you now. He reckoned he needed some space, and so did you.
That was why his body was so tensed today. The last blow struck when Alex sent him a text about that bloody gig again, complaining about how Andrew needed to work on his guitar rift for a cover of Van Morrison…
He was alone in his classroom now, the students had just left and he was gathering his things before exiting the room. It always felt strange to be alone in a classroom, these places were meant to be full of life. He groaned as he quickly read his friend’s text.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” he cursed.
In his frustration, he let out a long, angry exhale through his nose, before pushing the chair of his desk more violently than needed…
… and a sharp pain crossed his lower back as a result.
He let out a surprised cry as the spark of pain ran through his muscles, making his body bend over as a reflex. His hand flew to his back, pressing on the painful spot in an attempt to make the pain subside. He took a couple of deep breaths.
This was not happening. Absolutely not… this day could not get worse…
He tried to stand slowly straighter again, but the second he shifted his weight on his feet, the pain was back, like a thin blade digging through his back. He was dizzy by the strength of it for a moment, his head spinning. He leant on his desk for support.
He had thrown his back out…
“Bloody hell!”
But when he tried to move again, the result was the same, and Andrew had to give up. He was now bowing at a fifty degrees angle, and could barely stay on his feet, the slightest movement summoning brand new shards across his frame. He reached for his phone, tapped on your name.
You weren’t picking up… He knew you didn’t have a class now, or any type of meeting planned for the morning, you would have told him. You were simply ignoring him, giving him the silent treatment after your bickering this morning.
“Not now… oh, fuck!”
He hissed as he shifted and a painful jolt crossed his back again. He groaned, typed three simple letters as a text.
Sos
He was too dizzy to call again, but he didn’t have to. You immediately called him back, he simply had to accept the call.
“Babe? You’re alright?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.
“I… I’ve thrown my back out. ‘S bad…”
He realised as he spoke that his voice was strained, that he was out of breath. He was sweating a lot now…
“Shit! Are you in the classroom, still?”
“Yeah… hurry up… please…”
“I’m coming! I’ll be right here, love!”
You hung up, and he was glad now that you had both hung up your timetables in your office, where the classrooms for each of your classes were indicated. He was too dizzy to remember in which room he was.
A couple of minutes later, the door was flung open, but not by you.
Saoirse and Sean both frowned at the sight of their professor standing at a weird angle, motionless by his desk.
“Huh… sir? You’re alright?” Sean asked.
Grand… students now… all Andrew needed…
“I… I’m okay, can you wait for a minute outside, please?”
“Erm… we’re supposed to have a class here in… like… five minutes,” Saoirse answered.
And indeed, Colm just entered the room.
“Andy? You’re alright?” he asked, an eyebrow flying upwards.
“Thrown my back,” Andrew answered, growing more out of breath every second he had to fight pain to remain standing. But if he sat down, he wasn’t certain he would be able to get up again.
“Shit…”
“I’ve called Y/N, just… give me a minute, would you?”
But Colm disapprovingly tutted.
“Let me give you a hand…”
“I’m fine…”
“You’re clearly not, though.”
Meanwhile, most students had entered the room and were now staring at their teachers. Lucky for Andrew, it was their last-year students, whom he knew well. They all seemed concerned.
“Can we do something to help?” asked Saoirse, but Andrew shook his head. He tried to smile but couldn’t quite summon the gesture.
“I just need to wait for a minute.”
“Let me gather your things,” Colm started to randomly throw the remnants of Andrew’s belonging in his bag.
That was when you appeared, looking dishevelled in your hurry, your own bag secured on your shoulders.
“Oh… hello!” you greeted your students with an embarrassed smile, before turning to your husband.
You frowned hard with worry at the sight of his bent frame.
“Honey, how are you feeling? How bad is it?” you asked in a quiet voice, so the students would not hear.
“It’s really bad… like… really bad…” he shook his head.
“Okay… we need to get you to the car, love. Do you think you can walk if I help you?”
“I don’t exactly have a choice…”
You wrapped your arm around him to support him, Colm doing the same on Andrew’s right side. He also carried his friend’s bag.
“Well, I reckon the class is delayed,” Colm proclaimed loudly for the students. “Medical emergency.”
The students threw you worried looks as they settled in class nonetheless, waiting for Colm to come back. Andrew was so embarrassed, you had rarely seen him so red in the face.
“It’s okay, love. It’s not your fault,” you comforted him.
“It was so fucking stupid…”
“It’s always stupid when we hurt ourselves. It’s alright.”
“Sorry…”
“Don’t apologize. You need to see a doctor right now, though.”
You had to pause a few times to walk to your car. Andrew was sweating, his head spinning, clearly not doing good at all. He hated the fear in your eyes as you looked at him.
“I’ll be alright,” he started, but you cut him short.
“You’re in a lot of pain, right now. Don’t underplay it, okay? I need to know how bad it is.”
Slowly, he nodded. You helped him into the passenger seat. Now that the students were gone, his blushing had receded and he was pale as sheets.
“Well… if you want to know… it’s really, really bad… like… holy shit…”
“You’re gonna be okay. I’m going to take care of you, baby,” you cooed, brushing hair away from his face and his damp forehead.
Just hearing those words made his heart slow down, and he waited for you to get in the car too, closing his eyes.
What a fucking nightmare of a day…
Whatever the doctors gave Andrew was strong. Like… really strong.
It was nothing new that Andrew struggled with back pains from time to time, with how tall he was it wasn’t surprising, and you always had a stash of muscle relaxant and painkillers at the ready at home, just in case. Only, this time the pain was worse than usual, and the doctors gave him something much stronger than what Andrew was used to.
Which meant that he was currently high as a kite.
He slept for most of the drive home, which you were thankful for because that meant that the drugs were stronger than his pain and allowed him to get some rest. You hated having to wake him, but you had to get him out of the car and into the house.
It took him a couple of minutes to be aware of the world enough to climb out of the car with your help. You managed to get him inside the hallway, take off his jacket and help him with his shoes, but when you reached the staircase, he started to uncontrollably laugh.
“Baby… we need to get you to the bedroom now, before the pain comes back.”
He kept on giggling, unstable on his feet.
“I’m high as a kiiiiiiiiiiiite!” he giggled.
“That, you are…”
“Did we smoke weed?”
“No, you went to the hospital for your back. You don’t remember? They gave you some strong painkiller.”
“Strooooooooong! I am strong!”
You struggled not to laugh at him, staying focused on your goal: get his tall arse upstairs.
“You are indeed, babe. Very strong. Now show me how strong you are and climb those stairs for me, alright?”
“Why? Why getting upwards, up the stairsily stairs…” he fumbled on his words, batting his eyelids.
“Because we need to get you to bed, love…”
“Bed?! BED?! I’m married!”
You blinked up at him.
“Yeah…”
“Very happily married… very very happy… very very…”
He yawned.
“Babe, it’s me. Y/N.”
“I know who you are, silly!”
“I’m your wife!”
He grinned, pupils blown and eyelids droopy over the hazel of his eyes.
“I know,” he giggled again. “You’re hot.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his nonsense.
“Right, can you help me and get upstairs then?”
Finally, Andrew agreed to collaborate. The fact that Elwood decided to follow you didn’t help, as you now had to be careful not to step on your dog in addition to helping your very tall husband up the stairs.
You were out of breath when you finally reached the landing.
Andrew’s arm around your shoulders tightened and he leant more of his weight onto you.
“Tired… Let’s have a nap here…”
“You have to reach the bed first, honey, come on… a little extra effort, and then I promise you can rest.”
He groaned and mumbled unhappily but complied anyway, letting you guide him to your shared bedroom. You helped him under the covers, but he soon shuffled around.
“Babe… don’t move too much, you’ll hurt yourself…”
“Not comfy,” he breathed, frustrated.
You noticed he was trying to shimmy out of his jeans, and you helped him take his pants, socks and shirt off, leaving him in his grey undershirt and black boxers.
“Better?” you cooed, tucking him in again.
He hummed, blinking.
“Thanks…”
You hummed, brushing his hair out of his face. You were startled by the intensity of his stare, all of a sudden.
“You’re so fucking hot…”
You laughed at the blunt compliment, shaking your head at him.
“And you’re very high… and hot, too.”
He giggled, blushing.
“I’m glad you think I’m hot… cause I want you to fancy me.”
“I do fancy you. A lot, as a matter of fact…”
“I want to have babies with you. And then get married…”
“We’re already married, love.”
“Ha, yes! I forgot! Does my wife know I love you?”
He blinked a couple of times again, while you laughed. He really didn’t make any sense…
“I think you should try to sleep, now.”
But when you tried to stand, he grabbed your wrist, too tightly, like he couldn’t quite control his strength, and you were taken aback by the panic in his eyes.
“Don’t leave me…”
You frowned hard.
“I’m just heading downstairs, love…”
“No… no, I don’t want you to leave me… I’m sorry… whatever I did, I’m sorry…”
“Babe…”
You sat back down on the edge of the bed.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I can’t live without you… I can’t…”
“I’m not going anywhere, okay? Look, trust me…”
You tried to pull your wrist out of his grasp, and he looked at his hold on you, before blinking up at you again.
“I’m not going to leave, I promise.”
Slowly, he released you, but you read in his eyes that he was expecting you to leave still. You noticed that he was blinking tears away.
Instead of going downstairs like you had planned, you walked around the bed, and climbed under the covers by his side.
“See… I just wanted to get comfy too.”
His lips curved into a grin.
“Ha… okay… It’s just… sometimes I worry… like… when I open my eyes, I’m afraid you won’t be here.”
You frowned at that, laying down on your side to face him and resting a soothing hand on his chest.
“I’m always going to be here, honey.”
“Sometimes… when I wake up… if you’re already up… I forget that you’re up earlier than I am… and I… like… I worry that you’ve left, or that you weren’t real. That you were just my dream.”
He closed his eyes, letting out a long exhale.
“I’m real, baby,” you whispered, trying to hide how emotional you were now. “I’m real, and I’m staying. I’ll never leave your side, no matter what.”
“I really hope you’re not just a dream… I like the way you fold my clothes.”
You giggled at that, shaking your head while he drifted off to sleep. You didn’t dare to move away though, so you closed your eyes too, and joined him into Morpheus’s realm.
When Andrew woke up, his head was messy, his thoughts cloudy, floating around just out of reach. The only thing that seemed real and tangible was a sharp pain through his lower back as he shifted in bed.
He groaned at the feeling, blinked his eyes open before rubbing at his face to chase remnants of sleep away.
He noticed that you were by his side now, both of you lying under the covers. Only, you were fully clothed and he merely was in his underwear and undershirt. It took him a few minutes to recollect how he had gotten here, with most of his clothes off.
He winced at the memory of his students staring at him, at the worry in your eyes, at your hand holding his while you waited to see a doctor.
He felt guilty though. For calling you and distracting you from work when he knew how busy you were these days, trying to convince everyone to organize a very feminist seminar next year… but most of all, he felt guilty about this morning. Your fighting wasn’t endangering your relationship at all, you simply both got too frustrated and grew angry at each other because of this specific situation, not your overall relationship. Still… he had snapped at you, had raised his voice. Now that he was calmer again, he hated himself for growing so angry at the person he loved the most on this earth, for something as futile as you siding with his mother and being a little short-tempered this morning. He had been ridiculous. He should have been calmer, respond to your frustration with patience and understanding and quieten your uneasiness as soon as he recognized it…
You shifting under the covers interrupted his thoughts, and he looked down to see you wake up from your nap. You were lying on your stomach, face half-buried in your pillow, limbs sticking out in a starfish position across the bed, your arm thrown across his chest and your leg tangled with his. You looked ridiculous. His heart grew so warm and fond at the sight…
You blinked your eyes open, rubbed at your cheek and let out a groan. Andrew waited for you to emerge from slumber, for you to notice him by your side and recollect why you were in bed in the middle of the afternoon.
You leant on your forearms to take a better look at him, dishevelled and frowning in worry.
“How are you feeling, baby?”
He shrugged.
“Not great.”
“Are you in pain again?”
“Yeah, I am…”
“You can’t take any painkiller till 7…”
He nodded, scratched his chin.
“Thank you for helping me today.”
“Don’t mention it. It’s my job.”
He smiled, but stopped himself before he would lean closer to kiss you.
“Erm… kiss me, please? I can’t lean over…”
You laughed, but happily complied anyway.
“I’m starving. Do you want something to eat?”
He nodded, adding a hum for good measure.
“Gonna make us a snack, we’ve skipped lunch.”
You moved to get out of bed, but Andrew stopped you, holding gently your wrist.
“I’m sorry about this morning,” he breathed. “I don’t want you to still be angry at me.”
Your gaze softened.
“I’m not angry anymore. And I’m sorry too. I was short-tempered and unkind to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t as supportive as I should have been.”
“You disagreeing with me is perfectly natural. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. We’re allowed to disagree, even if we’re married.”
You smiled, looking at his fingers around your skin. He frowned as he noticed that you were growing more emotional now.
“So… everything’s alright, then? Between us, I mean?” he asked, rubbing his thumb across the pulse on the inside of your wrist.
“Yeah… we’re good. I just…”
You paused, but he didn’t have to insist for you to look up at him and speak again.
“Do you remember what happened? Like… what you told me while you were high?”
Andrew shook his head.
“Something terribly embarrassing, I bet!”
You chuckled, but shook your head.
“No… you… You were worried.”
“Worried?”
“About me leaving.”
He took in a sharp breath.
“Oh…”
“Honey… you know I’m not going anywhere, right? I love you, I’m going to stay with you for the rest of our lives. That’s what I want.”
“I want that too. I’m not going anywhere either.”
“Don’t be afraid of that, okay? If there’s one thing you can believe in, it’s how much I love you.”
He blinked tears away, looking up at the ceiling.
“You know I’m not emotionally stable enough for this kind of speech… especially when you attack me at my weakest, most pathetic moment: still a little high on what is probably morphine and in pain.”
You smiled fondly at him.
“I’m serious, though.”
Slowly, he nodded.
“I believe in us, more than anything else in this world. I was just high.”
“Good.”
Slowly, you got up, walked to the bedroom door.
“Gonna make us some food. Do you need anything else?”
“I’m okay… I’m sorry to be a burden for a few days. I hope I’m not slowing you down with work too…”
“Stop talking nonsense! I’ll work from home for the rest of the day, I’m working on the seminar in May today, getting everything ready and starting to work on the powerpoint. I’m only going to miss the weekly meeting with the team, but Colm will keep us updated… and I reckon not much will be said aside from talking about Ethan’s retirement.”
“Retirement? I thought he was moving to Galway.”
“Yeah… to retire.”
“No, I think he’s got a job there.”
You shrugged.
“Anyway, who cares about our old colleague? Today, you are what is important. And I’m going to take care of you, and nurture you back to health.”
You leaned down to kiss his forehead, making a stupid smile appear on his lips.
Chapter 11: ‘Upon waking on the kitchen counter I find a half grapefruit carefully cut and sectioned.’
Hi, everyone! Here’s a valentine’s day chapter (a hot one)…
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU), Sequel to Love in Verses, dadzier.
Warnings: fluff (a disgusting amount), angst for secondary characters, smut so 18+ only There are no warnings concerning the pregnancy (no infertility issues, no miscarriage, only tooth-rotting fluff)
Summary: Your life is perfect. You're married to the love of your life, your career is thriving as you work at Trinity College, in Dublin. You've settled down with your husband, and it seems that life is perfect these days. And yet, there's a tugging at your heart whenever you see baby clothes, a longing for something more. What if you wanted to be a mother? Are you ready to let this new joy enter your life?
Word Count: 2933
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
Being in Love
Awakened from a dream, I curl up
and turn. The roses on the dresser
smile and your words bloom.
The red roses for Valentine’s Day.
Like in a film
thoughts of you unfold
moment by moment.
I vaguely hear
the sound of your spoon scooping cereal
the water stream in the shower
the buzzing noise of your electric razor
like a singing of cicada.
Your footsteps in and out of the bedroom.
Your lips touching my cheek lightly.
And the sound of the door shutting.
In your light
I fall asleep again under the warm quilt
happily like a child.
Upon waking
on the kitchen counter I find a half
grapefruit carefully cut and sectioned.
Such a loving touch is a milestone
for my newly found happiness.
Chungmi Kim, Glacier Lily, 2004
“Babe… have you seen my jacket? The brown one?”
“Upstairs, in the closet.”
Andrew rolled his eyes, heaving an annoyed sigh at himself.
“Thought I brought it down already,” he mumbled, before sprinting up the stairs.
You chuckled at him, picking up your bag and walking to your car.
You were off for the weekend. Valentine’s day was on a Saturday this year, and so you had decided to spend the weekend away with Andrew to celebrate. Nothing too crazy, you had booked a hotel room in Kilkenny, and would spend your weekend exploring the small town, visiting the castle, walking along the river… It wasn’t too far away, which meant that you wouldn’t waste too much time driving there, and you found the city charming. A nice way to make the weekend special, without doing anything too crazy. You were both busy these days, with your jobs, your friends, Andrew’s gig coming closer and your new article needing reviewing…
Still, you were happy to take time for yourselves. You had found a nice rhythm along the years.
“Got it!” Andrew brandished the jacket in victory. “We’re all set!” he added, picking up his bag.
You dropped Elwood at his parents’ before heading to Kilkenny. The road was empty, early in the morning. You had time to grab a coffee and pastry before dropping your bags at the hotel. You held Andrew’s arm as you walked along the colourful streets. Of course, you had to drop by at the Book Centre and walked out with a couple of books each.
The sun was shining, and despite the cold weather, it was a bright day. The chatter of seagulls along the calm river Nore, children in kayak boats laughing under the low branches of willows, the pale blue of the winter sky, the houses painted in bright colours, the old stones telling stories of old English lords and betrayals, hurling players forever caught in a fight over the sliotar in their bronze pose. You didn’t mind being outside: your warm scarf, beanie and gloves, along with Andrew’s presence by your side, kept you warm.
You visited the castle in the afternoon, sat in the long gallery and admired the painted ceiling. You spent a long time in the park of the castle, talking and joking around and watching children play on the grass. You rested your head against Andrew’s arm as you took his hand in yours, your fingers intertwining clumsily through your gloves.
“Can you imagine… that this is going to be us?” you let out in a gentle whisper, looking at parents playing football with their child.
Andrew’s heart skipped a few beats at the thought.
“Yeah… isn’t that crazy, huh?”
“I mean… we’re still far from that, cause… I have to get pregnant, which is not gonna happen before a few months, and then a few more years for our baby to be able to play like that but…That’s kind of a mad thought, isn’t it?”
“It is! It really is… I’m glad we still have some time though, I’m not sure my brain would be able to compute that this is my life now…”
You laughed together at that, talking some more about babies, about daycare and schools and how you wanted to buy your baby the cutest teddy bear…
Before you knew it, it was already time for dinner. You went back to the hotel to change your outfits, dressing up for the evening. You had booked a table in a nice restaurant that sounded delicious.
You looked at your reflection in the mirror as you fixed your green shirt, the one that drove Andrew crazy when you popped open a couple of buttons, the way you intended to tonight. It was too cold outside for you to wear a dress, but you had chosen an elegant outfit still. You bit back a smirk at the thought of the set of black lingerie you had put on for tonight. Andrew loved this one, you had bought it a couple of years ago and it drove your husband absolutely crazy. So… perfect for Valentine’s Day…
You took a deep breath before walking out of the bathroom, checking your appearance one last time in the mirror. Andrew had changed first, he was waiting for you, sitting on the edge of the bed and reading. His hair tied up in a half-bun with curls falling to his shoulders, his glasses on his nose, his beard trimmed and wearing a dark grey suit and a white shirt. Your heart skipped beats at the sight… he was so gorgeous…
He looked up at you, and you heard his breathing stop, getting caught in his throat. His cheeks flushed as he shamelessly let his eyes trail down your body, until his brain seemed to finally catch up with his actions, and he blinked a couple of times, clearing his throat as he sprang up, the book instantly forgotten.
“Wow… honey, you look so good…” he breathed, his cheeks burning a bright shade of red.
“Thank you,” you grinned. “You’re very handsome…”
“Argh… thanks…” he chuckled, rubbing at his palm.
He reached across the bed and handed you a box of your favourite chocolate.
“I thought we said no gifts for Valentine’s!” you complained. “The trip was the gift!”
But Andrew rolled his eyes.
“Just chocolate, doesn’t count,” he mumbled. “Besides, I’m gonna eat half of those.”
“Absolutely not, they’re mine now!”
“Ha, but you signed up for sharing everything with me when we got married,” he smirked, wrapping his arms around you. “Including chocolate.”
You laughed, before rising to your tiptoes and pecking his lips.
“Thank you for the treats,” you whispered against his lips.
He smiled, leaned in for a proper kiss before you could say anything else.
“Let’s go! I’m starving,” you encouraged him to move towards the door.
If Andrew followed you, he also gave you one of those shit-eating smiles of his, his tongue poking against his cheek and his eyes filled with mischief.
“I’m starving too… but for a different kind of food.”
Your breath caught in your throat while you turned to open the door, trying to hide your very obvious reaction to his words.
“Oh… really…?”
He rested his hand low on your back, humming.
“Should definitely save some of my appetite for dessert.”
You turned to him again, and he winked at you, wicked and dangerously charming. But his cocky smile faltered when a smirk of your own appeared on your lips and you rested your palm over his heart.
“Oh… baby… not sure you can handle tonight, then… we both know I’m a full meal.”
You felt the beating become erratic under your touch, noticed the bobbing of his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed. You sent him a wink of your own, before opening the door.
Andrew let out a breathy chuckle as he followed you down the hall.
“You really are a dangerous woman…” he breathed.
“Me? Dangerous?”
But he nodded.
“I’ll die of a heart attack one day, without a doubt… or your flirt will make me spontaneously combust.”
You laughed, waiting before the elevator.
You were both staring at the closed doors, when Andrew’s hand drifted to your lower back again.
“You know… we could arrive late at the restaurant…”
You laughed.
“Wine and dine me, first, professor…”
The doors opened with a quiet ding, and Andrew cursed under his breath. When you looked at him again, he was popping open a button of his shirt, his face flushed and burning.
You bit back a smirk.
Yeah… you still got it…
The meal was delicious, and the evening bright and fun. Andrew almost choked on his vegetables because of one of your jokes, and your belly ached from laughter too. Despite the romantic setting, you were having more fun than anything else tonight, and you felt grateful for it. Andrew was your best friend, the one who could make you laugh so easily…
And you were his best friend too. Now more than ever, it was obvious to him. Beyond the intimacy that came with being married to someone, beyond the sex and the touches and the kisses… Tonight more than ever, Andrew was well aware of how profound his love for you ran. You were the person who made him laugh the most, who made him feel safe the most, who made him feel the most like himself. You were the stars in the sky, the North Pole guiding his compass, the sea washing over his sand, the moon and the sun and everything in between…
While he listened to your silly rambling about geese – he wasn’t sure how the conversation had drifted towards waddling birds, but there was nothing surprising given how easily your conversations drifted from topics to topics – Andrew weirdly thought back about his ex. About Sam, and the way he thought she was the one. How he thought that, to be truly loved, he needed to change, hide his imperfections, not quite be himself. And now, you were there, mimicking the waddling of a goose with your hands, and making him feel like he could be whoever he wanted to be. You were his safe place, you were his home…
He reached out across the table, laid his hand open, palm up, an offering. You didn’t hesitate, probably didn’t even think about your movements when you slipped your fingers between his. You took his hand without a second thought, a reflex, at this point. He smiled tenderly at the gesture, looked at your entwined hands resting on the white tablecloth.
He never wanted to lose this feeling, this trust you had for each other. He could never lose this closeness… he wouldn’t survive it. He could live without sex and kisses, but without the bright smile you were offering now and the silly laugh you let out? No… these he could never live without…
He laughed at your silly words.
“That’s why geese are the bane of mankind… The true destroyers of worlds…”
“Wracking havoc…”
“Exactly! These guys are terrifying!”
“Does that mean that when I tell you you’re being a ‘silly goose’, you’re taking it badly?”
“Absolutely not! You are merely acknowledging that despite my silliness, I am still an evil mastermind…”
He laughed again, so hard his voice was high-pitched when he spoke again.
“You? An evil mastermind?”
“I am terrifying! Remember that time I shouted at that student?”
“That… was terrifying, yes… But then again, nothing fucks with my baby.”
He sent you a wink, while you shied away at the thought of that poem he had written for you. When he thought back about it, he was insane at the time, writing poems for you when you weren’t together, when you still loved your ex, and then reading them out loud for you…
You tightened your hold on his hand, anchored him back to the present. And now, you were trying for a baby… You had come a long way together…
You finished eating your dessert, still debating the evilness of geese – a fact sometimes hidden by their cute waddling, but you were adamant it was a mere plot to make humans forget their villainy – and walked back to the hotel. And it was cold tonight, but Andrew held your joined hands in his pocket to keep you both warm. Kilkenny was full of lights in the evening, busy with the buzzing of pubs and traditional music playing, small crowds overflowing the confines of the pubs and spilling onto the streets. You didn’t stop for one last drink though, you walked straight to the hotel. Andrew had other things on his mind than fiddle and beer. He had had these thoughts since he saw you walking out of the bathroom wearing that green chemise that made you look absolutely divine…
In the elevator, he noticed how your eyes drifted to the top of his chest, the skin revealed by the couple of buttons he had opened through the evening. A satisfied smirk made its way to his lips. Yeah… he still got it…
You were the one pulling on his hand now to walk out of the elevator, taking your joined fingers out of his pocket to make him hurry to the door of your bedroom.
You let Andrew lock the door, remained quiet while you both took off your coats and shoes. But then Andrew looked up, and his eyes caught yours…
The next second, you were both rushing into a kiss, the tension built throughout the evening finally turning into moans let out in the same breaths.
Andrew wasn’t sure how you took off his vest, how your hands started to unbutton his shirt. He gasped at the feeling of your fingers over his chest, running through the patch of hair there, before drifting to his ribs…
Reluctantly, he pulled away to look at you. Lips reddened by his kisses already, your hair messed by his fingers, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen…
“I want to keep the lights on…” he whispered, asking for permission while he bumped his nose into yours.
You nodded, pulling on his shirt to take it off.
But he stopped you, made you slow down by holding your face in his palms and making you look up at him.
You were the best thing that had ever happened to him. Did you know that? Were you aware that above all the things you shared, it was your company he treasured the most? The simple fact of being allowed to spend time with you?
He would never love like this again. Were he to lose you, he would never find that kind of love again.
True love.
Cheesy… still true…
He couldn’t say it out loud, though. The words remained stuck in his throat. Maybe, through rimes and verses, he could carry that meaning to you, eventually. For now, he was hoping his body could convey that message.
Slowly, while holding your stare, he unbuttoned your green shirt. One button after the other, the pace of his fingers unbearably slow. He heard your quiet gasp when he brushed your breasts through the fabric before working on the next button. Every fibre of his body was burning for you…
He blinked when he recognized your bra. You were wearing that set of lingerie. Black lace...
“Bloody hell…” he groaned.
The ghost of a smirk lit up your features, but then his lips were on yours again, and he shushed any snarky remark you could have thrown his way.
He guided you to the bed, while you busied yourself to rid him of his shirt. The fabric fell to the ground in a quiet thud, soon followed by an identical sound when your shirt joined his on the carpet.
He blushed when you pulled away to look at him; when your hand wandered across his chest and his soft stomach. His first instinct was to hide, conceal all his imperfections… but then you looked up at him with so much awe in your eyes that he was left breathless.
“Christ… you’re so gorgeous, baby… you’re so handsome… I want you so bad…”
Your words made his heart stumble, rush in an erratic pattern. Instead of answering, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing your body against his and trembling as your skin touched his.
The next second, he was kissing you again, passionate and devouring, revealing a hunger he could never satiate fully. You… he could never have enough of you…
He pushed you down on the mattress, broke your kiss so you could settle more comfortably over the pillows while his hands travelled through your torso, cupped your breasts, and then fell to the buttons of your elegant trousers. You were out of breath already, just like he was, your gasps and deep exhales filling up the room, along with the metallic sound of your zipper.
He slipped his thumbs under the fabric.
“Up,” he instructed quietly, voice hoarse and low.
He nibbled on your collarbone while you obeyed without a second thought, lifting your hips so he could take off your pants.
You protested when he sat up, but he ignored you. Instead, he looked down at you, at your gorgeous frame splayed before him in his favourite set of lingerie. He gave you a smirk while his fingers dug into your thighs.
“I thought we said no gifts for Valentine’s day…”
You laughed, humming.
“Technically, I already owned that set, so…”
“Know that your gift is still dearly appreciated.”
Before you could add anything, he was pushing the lace away from you, his fingers touching you where you were burning for him. You gasped at the feeling, letting out a low moan while your eyes closed on their own accord. Your hands looked for him through the sheets, and he held onto your fingers with his left hand, while he lowered his lips to your thigh, making you shake.
“Fuck…” you gasped as Andrew bit down on the plush skin of your inner thigh, before licking at the mark he had left there.
Your fingers tightened their hold on his, your other hand finding its way to his hair and tugging at the strands just right, making him moan against your skin.
He looked up then, stared at the bliss that was already on your features, your hair covering the pillows, your lips parting in a gasping breath, your eyes fluttering close.
He took a shaky breath, before lowering his mouth again.
Chapter 10: ‘Just like moons and like suns, with the certainty of tides, just like hopes springing high, still I'll rise.’
Hi, everyone! Here’s a new chapter! Some comfort and cute moments…
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU), Sequel to Love in Verses, dadzier.
Warnings: fluff (a disgusting amount), angst for secondary characters, smut so 18+ only There are no warnings concerning the pregnancy (no infertility issues, no miscarriage, only tooth-rotting fluff)
Summary: Your life is perfect. You're married to the love of your life, your career is thriving as you work at Trinity College, in Dublin. You've settled down with your husband, and it seems that life is perfect these days. And yet, there's a tugging at your heart whenever you see baby clothes, a longing for something more. What if you wanted to be a mother? Are you ready to let this new joy enter your life?
Word Count: 3313
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
Still I Rise
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
’Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Maya Angelou, Still I Rise,1978
You were exhausted.
No, exhausted wasn’t the word. There should be a word invented to describe specifically the type of tiredness that came with periods. It was beyond exhaustion, and pain and an overall sick feeling. It was beyond that…
You had managed to function through your classes today, but now all you longed for was to go home, curl up in bed and cuddle your husband.
You heaved a tired sigh when you spotted Saoirse already waiting in front of your office. You tried to hurry your steps as you walked down the corridor to join her, but you were simply too exhausted for that. Christ, you were just coming back from a lesson, and you couldn’t catch any break…
She beamed at you, and you tried to answer with a warm smile too.
“Hi, professor!”
“Hi, Saoirse, how are you?”
“Good, you?”
“Grand.”
You opened the door, let your student in.
“Please, take a seat,” you told her, letting yourself fall into your own chair. “How are you doing these days?”
“Quite good, I think… Erm… I’ve finished reading all the extra material we talked about over the summer, and I’m almost done with writing the first version of the second part of the memoir.”
“Alright, let’s take a look at that, then.”
“I also wanted to discuss the last part with you a little bit. I’ve planned most of it, just have to actually write it in full sentences and add the examples and references. But I’d like to have your input before doing that.”
“Of course, show me.”
You checked the time. 4:30 pm…
You wouldn’t be home before six… you took out your phone and sent a quick text to Andrew to let him know. He was working from home this afternoon, after an appointment to the vet for Elwood. Besides, he needed to focus to finish this article he was working on.
You noticed that Saoirse was waiting for you.
“Sorry, just… warning my husband I’ll be home late, so he doesn’t think I’m dead…”
She chuckled, visibly relaxing.
You went through her work for about an hour, before the conversation drifted onto a more personal side, just checking that your student was not overwhelmed with her studies and was doing okay. You felt that she was a little nervous, so you asked her why.
“I… I was just thinking… I talked with Sean about what we’re gonna do next year, and he wants to start looking for a job and everything.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“And you don’t want to do that with him?”
“Oh… no! He’s not the problem! I just… I was thinking…”
She heaved a sigh, but gathered her courage.
“How hard was it to get a PhD?”
You were surprised, but smiled all the same.
“Is that something you’d like to do?”
“I don’t know… I don’t feel like I want to go work for a company or something, I… I want to keep studying. And I want to keep studying women in literature, and… make sure that our voices are heard from now on. You know? And… working as an academic, it seems like a good way to do that.”
You nodded, but gave her a sad smile.
“Well… I really enjoy my job, I love teaching, I love doing research, but… it’s not easy. You have to be aware of that.”
“I know it’s a lot of work.
“It is. PhD is hell. Like… really. So much pressure, no resources, you’ll feel desperately alone… Choose your supervisor well, because the wrong one can fuck up all your work, or worse, steal it from you. You’ll have no recognition for your work. You’ll be paid a ridiculous amount of money for working 70 hours a week. You can forget weekends, these don’t exist anymore once you start a PhD. You’ll probably have to move to another city, maybe another country, depending on the subject you want to study. And then… getting a position in a university is hell. There are no opportunities. You can spend a decade being nothing but a post-doc. I was very lucky to get a position as assistant professor relatively quickly after my PhD, but it’s rare. And there is no opportunity for me to get a proper position as a professor for now. I might never reach that position, actually. You have to be aware of all that. And you also have to be aware that, as a woman, everything is going to be a hundred times harder for you. May it be the rampant misogyny, the need to prove to everyone that you belong here, the quality of your work… everything is harder. I love doing this job, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world… but it’s hard. You have to be aware of what you’re getting yourself into.”
Slowly, she nodded.
“Thank you, for being honest with me.”
“Take some time to think, but you can ask me anything, anytime.”
“Thank you.”
“And… if you decide to go for a PhD, which I believe you perfectly capable of… tell me. I’ll recommend you.”
“Thank you!”
She gave you an emotional smile. Too emotional. Your hormones were going crazy now that your cycle was struggling to come back to normal, and you were too much in pain not to cry if one of your favourite students started to go all emotional on you…
“Do you have another question, or shall we call it a day?”
“All good! Thank you again!”
You hurried to get your things ready once Saoirse had left. You sent another text to Andrew to tell him you were leaving, but he hadn’t even read your first message. He must have been busy working…
The drive home was torture. You had run out of painkillers during the afternoon, and a headache was growing as well as a sharp pain across your lower back. When you got home, Elwood greeted you at the door, but Andrew was nowhere to be found.
“Honey!” you called out. “I’m home! Where are you?”
No answer. You found him in his office, with his airpods in his ears, and books and papers scattered across his desk all around him. He was frowning hard in concentration.
“Babe,” you called, walking in.
He blinked up at you as he noticed you entering the room. He took one of his airpods off.
“Hey, love,” he mumbled. “What time is it?”
“Almost seven.”
“Already?”
“Hmm…”
“Fuck… I really need to finish this tonight.”
He took off his glasses, let them fall on his desk as he rubbed at his tired eyes.
“This article’s kicking my butt. Do you mind cooking tonight? I’ll make dinner tomorrow.”
“I’ll order some take out.”
He frowned a little at your answer, and seemed to finally focus on you. And his frown only deepened as he put on his glasses again to take a better look at your features.
“You’re alright? You don’t look too well…”
“These are the worst periods I’ve had in ten years. I’m gonna take a shower, and lie down.”
“Oh… Okay.”
You rubbed at your painful temples, your headache settling in for good.
“I don’t have classes tomorrow, I’ll call Lydia in the morning to ask to work from home.”
“That bad?”
“I’ve literally just told you.”
He raised a surprised eyebrow at the annoyance in your tone.
You heaved a frustrated sigh, but forced your tone to be kinder as you spoke again.
“I’m sorry if I snap at you tonight… I’m just in a lot of pain and discomfort and I’m exhausted right now.”
“Okay… I’ll order something. A pizza?”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
“Anything specific you’d want?”
“Whatever, I don’t care. I just need a shower. And I need to lie down, my head’s spinning.”
“Maybe you should sit down for a minute…”
“I’m fine.”
You ignored the worry in his eyes and hurried in the bathroom. You cried at the relief of hot water running over your painful body. That and the quiet of being alone, in silence, for a moment…
You took forever in the shower, and couldn’t give a damn about it. Andrew must have heard you finally walking out of the bathroom though, because he emerged from his office at the same time.
“You’re okay?” he cautiously asked.
You nodded.
“Gonna lie down.”
He nodded, and you didn’t pay much attention to him while you crossed the corridor to your bedroom, ready to turn into a burrito for the rest of the evening.
You were scrolling on your phone when Andrew came in a few minutes later. He was carrying a pizza box, some chocolate, two heating pads were stuck under his arm, and you recognized the box of painkillers you took for your periods there as well.
He didn’t say anything as he dropped everything on the bed. Actually, he walked out again, came back a minute later with two glasses of water and his laptop. He put a glass of water and his laptop on his bedside table, and then moved to your side of the bed, put down the glass by your side. He grabbed the two heating pads, gently nudged your elbow.
“Sit up for me, love.”
You blinked up at him, but did as he said.
He pressed one pad against your lower back, the other at the perfect place on your front. You sighed in relief.
He picked up your medication, handed you a pill with your water.
“Here you go.”
You blinked tears away as you handed him back your glass.
“You can’t do this to me tonight,” you shook your head. “I’m too tired and my hormones are all over the place, I’m gonna cry if you keep being so nice to me…”
He merely laughed, kissed the top of your head.
“Quit talking that nonsense, would you? Can’t believe the shit you’re giving me sometimes…”
“I’m not joking. I’m this close from having a meltdown.”
Instead of answering, He sat down on the bed by your side, handed you a napkin and then a slice of pepperoni pizza.
“Eat, while it’s warm.”
“Thank you, baby.”
He reached out and gave your thigh a reassuring squeeze.
“You think you’re this sick because you stopped your contraception?”
You nodded, taking a bite of pizza, but almost instantly feeling nauseous. You ate another bite anyway.
“Yeah… I shouldn’t even be on my periods, right now. This thing’s completely messed up.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“You’re doing this so we can have a baby. So… it’s a little bit my fault.”
“No, you’re right, it’s 100% your fault.”
“Hey!”
You both laughed, and quietly ate the rest of your dinner. You couldn’t eat much, but that was better than nothing. Once you were lying down again, Andrew cleaned up the bed and opened his laptop once more.
“I really have to get some work done tonight, but you tell me if you need anything, honey, okay?” he stared intensely into your eyes, and you nodded, knowing he would get mad if you weren’t honest with him.
“Thank you,” you breathed out in a sigh, reaching across the bed to rest your hand on his waist, just so you would touch him.
“Try to get some sleep.”
You nodded, closed your eyes. You felt Elwood jumping on the bed at one point, but you didn’t hear Andrew closing his laptop, getting up to put it away and head to the bathroom. You didn’t notice when he joined you in bed again. You were already fast asleep.
The setlist was a nightmare.
Andrew stared at the sheet of paper in his hand, counted the songs he and his friends had chosen to be played at that gig in March. Only… Alex had heard from the festival again, and there was a change of plans. A bigger band had cancelled, and they would be replacing them on a bigger stage. Which meant a bigger audience, more pressure but most importantly… a longer set.
“We should add the Arctic Monkey’s cover,” Rory suggested. “It’s different, and Andrew’s vocals fit so well the track…”
Alex nodded.
“Yeah… okay… but we still need three more songs…”
Sebastian quietly hummed before speaking.
“Weren’t you working on some originals, Andy?”
Andrew looked at his friend, frowning, feeling his cheeks turning crimson.
“Yeah… but it’s just… I’m just adding music to my poems, that’s all.”
“We could play a couple of those!” proposed Sebastian.
“We don’t even know if they’re good. No offense, Andy,” Alex argued.
“Which poem have you worked on so far?” asked Rory.
“Erm… just a few. Church, Francesca…”
“That could work!” Rory nodded.
“Erm… is that really a good idea?”
“Let us have a listen!” Sebastian replied.
“Erm… right now?”
“You’ve got your laptop, right?”
Andrew’s cheeks flushed, but then he forced himself to play it cool. They were his friends, they had known each other for years. If his songs were terrible, they would choose other songs, and that would be the end of it.
So, Andrew complied, walked across Rory’s garage to reach for his laptop and plugged it in.
“These are just… raw versions…” Andrew mumbled, but his friends ignored him.
He clicked on Take Me to Church, grew quiet while his friends listened to the track.
He wouldn’t admit it, but he was proud of this song. Very proud of it, actually… if his friends didn’t like the song, he would be more gutted than he would admit out loud.
The song played through the room, his bandmates focused on the song were quiet while it played. And the song felt right but it was also… a very stripped tune. There wasn’t even a bass on this track…
Silence settled again once Andrew’s voice had fainted across the last note. He cleared his throat, feeling the room grow heavy, and his chest tightened as a result.
“So… do you think we could do something with that?” he asked, his voice quiet.
Sebastian let out a chuckle.
“Yeah, Andy… I think we can do something with that alright… it’s bloody brilliant!”
Andrew let out a nervous breath.
“Right… good…”
“For how long have you been sitting on that tune?” Rory asked.
“I don’t know… the lyrics are from my first poetry collection. I’ve started composing again last year.”
“Bloody hell… we need to play that at the gig!”
“What else do you have?” asked Alex.
“A few other songs…”
His friend grinned.
“Well, Andy… congrats… you’re gonna play your songs live!”
You heaved a sigh as you settled on your couch, book in hand and ready to relax. You checked the time. Almost 9pm. Andrew should be back soon, you had prepared dinner, it was kept warm in the oven. You hoped his rehearsal for the gig was going fine.
You rubbed your painful stomach. Most of the pain due to your periods had receded now, but the discomfort lingered. Elwood jumped on the sofa by your side, and pushed his snout into your palm, begging for scratches that you happily offered.
You had barely finished a chapter that the front door opened.
You heard Andrew shuffling in the hallway, putting down his gear, taking off his coat and shoes and scarf and beanie. When he hurried in the room, he seemed out of breath, and a little… crazy-looking.
“Erm… hi… you’re alright, babe?” you asked your husband as he stared at you with aghast round eyes.
He seemed to shake himself, and his gaze hardened, becoming determined now.
“I need your help,” he blurted out.
“Huhhhh… Okayyyyy…”
“We’re gonna play a bigger stage than we were supposed to.”
“What?!”
He told you about the phone call Alex had received a couple of days before, their need for a longer setlist. And finally, how the band wanted to play some of his original songs.
“Oh my God! That’s amazing!” you beamed up at him.
He grinned too.
“Yeah… it’s pretty great!”
“Which songs are you gonna play?”
“That’s where I need your help! First, to choose amongst the songs I already have… but more importantly, to choose which poems I should turn into a song next. I only have a handful ready, but I want to give the guys a few more tunes to choose from. Also… I think we’re gonna ask Katie to play with us. She’s a goddess on violin, and I use a lot of it on my songs, so… we’ve discussed it with the boys, called her, and she agreed! She knows most of the songs we’re gonna play anyway, and she’s ready to work extra-hard to catch up.”
“That’s grand! She doesn’t play enough with you guys!”
“Yeah, we’re blessed she agreed, kind of last minute…”
You nodded, getting up despite Elwood’s unhappy growl about the end of his cuddling time.
“Let’s go through your poetry while we eat dinner.”
He nodded, grabbed his collections on your shared bookshelf.
You ate while going through his texts, choosing your favourites, of course.
“What about I, Carrion?” you asked. “This one, you meant for it to be just a song.”
But Andrew shook his head.
“No… this one’s just for you.”
Your heart stumbled in your chest, but Andrew was too focused on the book in his hands to notice.
“Maybe… Work Song? I could do something with that…”
“Oh… yes… it’s such a beautiful one…”
He beamed up at you, his cheeks reddening at your words.
“I also need some political ones…”
“What about Swan upon Leda… it’s your latest one…”
He seemed to think about it, added the title to the short list he was writing down.
“Hmm… maybe…”
He took a large bite of his vegetables, flicking through a few pages.
“Maybe a shorter one, too…” he thought out loud. “Don’t know how long we’re missing precisely for the set, we might need a shorter song to fill up a gap…”
“That one?” you asked, pointing at one of his old poems.
But he shook his head as he quickly read through I Could Be Yours again.
“Nah… not that one.”
“Why not? It’s pretty…”
“But it doesn’t fit in my life now.”
You frowned, silently asking him to tell you more. He gave you a tender smile.
“I don’t have to change to be loved. I don’t have to be convincing for someone to give me a chance. I can be myself, with you. So… not this one.”
You blinked, read through the poem again.
I’d match the colour-scheme of your bedroom wall.
Oh…
“Did you write this for Sam?”
Slowly, he nodded.
“But you wrote Work Song for her too, and you want to use it.”
“I didn’t write this poem for her,” he laughed. “I wrote it in my tiny student room at Trinity at three in the morning cause I couldn’t sleep and… ‘was seeing all my friends finding love while I was still waiting for the one. I was just… imagining a kind of love I wanted. A lot of my poems back then were not based on a real person.”
Slowly, you nodded.
“And now, you’re married…”
He laughed again.
“I am. I’ve found the love I’ve been craving for. After all… You’re sweet enough to give me toothaches just from kissing me.”
You giggled stupidly at him.
“Alright, alright…” you mumbled under your breath, trying to control your erratic heart. “That was kind of smooth…”
“That was so smooth, are you kidding. Like butter. Smooth like butter. If someone told me that I’d become… liquid. Like butter on hot toast. Again, butter smooth! Quickly liquid…”
You both burst into laughter at his silliness. But when you looked down at his poems again, you couldn’t help the dreamy smile on your lips.
Chapter 9: ‘Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; mere anarchy is loosed upon the world’
Hi, everyone! Here’s a new chapter! Lots of worrying and some good news :) Also, sorry if anything is inaccurate about the pregnancy stuff, I googled stuff but… I’m not a doctor and know nothing about it so…
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU), Sequel to Love in Verses, dadzier.
Warnings: fluff (a disgusting amount), angst for secondary characters, smut so 18+ only There are no warnings concerning the pregnancy (no infertility issues, no miscarriage, only tooth-rotting fluff)
Summary: Your life is perfect. You're married to the love of your life, your career is thriving as you work at Trinity College, in Dublin. You've settled down with your husband, and it seems that life is perfect these days. And yet, there's a tugging at your heart whenever you see baby clothes, a longing for something more. What if you wanted to be a mother? Are you ready to let this new joy enter your life?
Word Count: 2982
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
The Second Coming
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
W. B. Yeats, 1919
Andrew was lying awake in bed.
He checked the time on his alarm clock. Barely seven. He heaved a sigh and rubbed his eyes. What a waste of a Sunday morning…
But then again, you had an appointment with your OB-GYN the next day, at 4pm. You were taking some time off work to go there, he had moved a class to go with you. And he was a mess about it. All of it…
His brain was working a thousand miles a minute, swarming with thoughts and mostly with worry.
Now that he was getting used to the idea of becoming a father, he would have been lying had he pretended that he wouldn’t be disappointed if, for any reason, your doctor told you not to have children, or that it would be difficult for you to get pregnant. There were other ways of course, and Andrew would be perfectly happy to simply spend his life with you without being a father at all… still… now that you had talked about it and agreed and that he had spent hours imagining a mini-you running around the house, he’d be broken-hearted if it turned out that you wouldn’t have children in the end.
What if something wrong happened? What if you got hurt? What if you died?! These things happened, pregnancies were more dangerous than many people thought, a lot of things could go wrong. What if you lost the baby? What if you miscarried? Could you overcome that, as a couple? Could he live with that pain?
You shifted next to him, your movements interrupting his spiralling. You reached across the bed, and despite the darkness of the room, he noticed that you were frowning. A nightmare?
But then, your hand found him across the mattress, reaching his chest, right over his ribs. He stared at you while you instantly relaxed, while your hand closed on his t-shirt and held onto it as you settled again into sleep, now that you had found back your anchor.
He smiled, caressed your cheek gently with the back of a finger as not to wake you.
He could never take the risk to lose you. He would not survive it.
He thought about one of his old uncles, who had died weeks after his wife. Everyone said it was because she had died. He had followed her in death. He would do the same with you. He wouldn’t want to live without you…
You shifted again, stopped his dark thoughts in the process. You groaned, still mostly asleep. He watched in silence as you emerged out of slumber, rubbed at your eyes and made a weird noise at the back of your throat as you came around. He didn’t realise he was smiling again.
You checked the hour on your own alarm clock, groaned at the sight. Finally, you noticed that Andrew was awake too.
“Too early,” you mumbled, shuffling closer until you could bury your face into his chest, swinging a leg over his.
He chuckled, wrapped an arm around you and rubbed your back before slipping his fingers under your t-shirt.
“Why are you awake?” you mumbled, your voice rough with sleep and muffled by his chest.
“Can’t sleep,” he answered in a sigh, looking up at the ceiling again.
“Busy brain?”
“Yeah…”
“Because of tomorrow?”
He hummed, his fingers mindlessly drawing patterns along your spine.
You sighed, sat up in a jolt and turned on the light.
“I won’t be able to fall asleep again,” you pouted.
“Me neither,” he answered, his voice hoarse with sleep still, his fingers still splayed across your lower back.
You turned to him, sitting cross-legged on the bed, drawing the sheets closer to keep warm. Andrew put a hand behind his head, crossed his legs and tried to relax his back, that was growing painful after lying down in the same position for a while.
“Want me to make you some coffee?” you asked, but he shook his head.
“Not yet… let’s stay here for a while longer.”
You offered him a tender smile, resting your hand on his stomach, feeling him breathe under your palm.
“What is your brain torturing you with, my love?” you asked softly.
Everything was soft about you. Your hair messed by sleep, your comfy clothes, your frame wrapped in a sheet, your skin under his calloused fingers, your smile, your voice… You were a safe place, his home…
“Just… the appointment tomorrow. ‘S kind of… stressing me out, like…”
You hummed as you nodded.
“I’m nervous too. But then again, I don’t see how things could go wrong tomorrow.”
Andrew remained quiet.
“Are you thinking about… bad things happening?”
He let out a long exhale, a painful one that made his lungs burn. You were trying to reach out to him, to help him navigate his anxiety and tendency for pessimism. He had to relax, he had to let you in…
Slowly, he nodded, added a quiet hum for good measure.
“Like what?”
He shifted, growing uncomfortable. Eyes on the ceiling again. Deep breaths, in and out.
He couldn’t tell you that he had seen you dying in his nightmare…
“I’m worried about your health.”
Slowly, you nodded.
“Is that an understatement?” you asked, your voice quiet as to not scare him away.
Slowly, he nodded.
“I’m going to be fine, baby.”
“You don’t know that. You literally can’t know that.”
“And I could have a car crash going to work every day. I could fall in the kitchen and break my skull against the counter…”
“It’s not the same.”
“No… but there’s no need to worry about things we can’t control.”
“We can control you being pregnant and risking your life over having a child. We have been for years.”
“Andy, baby… I’m not going to die…”
“A lot of things can go wrong in a pregnancy.”
“I know… and we’re going to see a doctor tomorrow to make sure that there isn’t any major risk. We’re already protecting me from that, love.”
Slowly, Andrew nodded.
“What if something happens to the baby? What if you miscarry?” he whispered, drawing the warmth out of the room.
But you rubbed circles into his ribs, and made the world safer again.
“We’ll see what happens. I don’t know what will happen. But we’ll be together, and that means that we’ll be okay.”
He relaxed in the bed, felt the muscles of his shoulders growing softer again. When he turned to you, his voice was on the verge of breaking.
“You promise me we won’t try if there’s any major risk for you, right?”
You nodded.
“I’m not planning on risking my life for a baby, honey.”
“I’m serious about this.”
“So am I. I want to have a child with you, but not at all cost. If there’s any major risk, we won’t try.”
You heaved a sigh.
“I’ll be disappointed, but I don’t want to risk my health over this either.”
Slowly, he nodded.
“If we start trying… I think we should take our time. Like… we shouldn’t try for a few months.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know… I just… We’ll need time to plan everything, we have a busy few months ahead of us. It’d be better to wait until summertime for you to get pregnant.”
“We can’t do that on demand,” you chuckled. “Besides, it will likely take months after I stop my contraception.”
“Really?”
You nodded.
“Maggie told me it took them almost a year. I’ll need to stop taking pills for a while, I reckon…”
Slowly, Andrew nodded.
“Hmm… I understand.”
“If we’re in the clear from the OB-GYN tomorrow, do we stop contraception?”
Andrew took a moment to think, but then he nodded.
“We’ll see what she says, but… if you need a few months to be able to be pregnant… then, yeah… we should stop contraception now.”
“I don’t want to put pressure on ourselves for me to get pregnant, like… tracking ovulation and stuff…”
“No, me neither. We’ll see… if it doesn’t work naturally, we can start tracking stuff, maybe ask for medical help… but that would be in a while.”
“Yeah, I agree.”
You lied down again, turned off the light, snuggled against him.
“You’re okay?”
“Yeah, better… thank you.”
“I’m gonna be okay, baby. I promise. Besides, I have you. You’ll keep me safe.”
Andrew let out a long breath, emptying his lungs until it hurt.
“I’ll do my best.”
But you chuckled, taking him aback.
“Babe… you already keep me safe. You always do.”
He heaved a sigh, closed his eyes.
Good… that’s good…
He listened to your breathing, let your warmth sip into his body and relax his muscles until he fell back asleep.
When he woke up, he was seeing you dying again.
You were nervous as you walked into your gynaecologist’s office.
Not that going to the OB-GYN was ever a pleasant moment, but now more than ever, you were beyond nervous. As you waited for your name to be called in the small waiting room, your hands were clammy and your heart pounding. You tried to focus on the artwork decorating the luminous room, your eyes travelling across the magazines resting on the coffee table in the right corner. The only thing that brough you comfort though, was knowing that Andrew was here with you for all of this.
Andrew was sitting by your side in the waiting room. Of course, he was. You reached for his hand, and he took your fingers in his, giving you a reassuring smile despite his obvious nerves.
When had you become so lucky in life…?
“Y/N Y/L/N.”
You jumped at the sound of your name, exchanged polite smiles with the two ladies still waiting. Andrew followed you, a hand on the small of your back.
Dr. Kavannagh was kind and gentle, and you trusted her. She had been following you for many years, and was simply the kind of doctors who made you feel safe, especially for the intrusive tests she sometimes had to run. Still, you were a ball of nerves when you walked into her office.
“Hello Mrs. Y/L/N! How are you doing?” she asked you with a welcoming grin as she shook your hand.
She also shook Andrew’s hand, smiling mischievously as she joked.
“Oh! You came with reinforcements today!”
Andrew blushed, but nodded as he took a seat next to you.
“So, what can I help you with today?” your doctor asked, her blond hair falling before her eyes as she turned to her computer screen. “Our last check up was… last year, so it’s not mandatory quite yet… was there anything particular you wanted to talk about with me?”
“Hmm… Yeah…”
You cleared your throat, summoning your courage.
“Erm… My husband and I, we… we want to start trying for a baby. But we had quite a lot of questions and we’re a little lost so… Erm… and we also wanted to check with you if everything was… like… physically alright with me for us to try… you know…”
Your voice trailed out, but your doctor broke into a grin.
“Congratulations! That’s amazing! Have you started trying already? Are you struggling with that?”
“No, no… I’m still on contraceptive pills.”
“Right, so you’re in the ‘planning’ phase.”
“Yeah, you can say that.”
She opened your file on her computer, then took out a series of papers from her drawer.
“You didn’t have any infections recently or STDs in the past?” she asked Andrew, who shook his head, trying to hide how his cheeks turned crimson.
“No, nothing.”
“And there isn’t a specific risk at the moment?”
“No, there isn’t.”
“You neither?” she added, turning to you, but you shook your head.
“Alright! Then I’m going to give you some documents to help you navigate everything, okay? First, Y/N, you’ve been on contraception for many years, which means that your body is very much used to having these extra-hormones regulating your cycle. It may take several months for your cycles to be regular again, and for your ovulation to come back to normal. Sometimes, women skip their pills a couple of times and get pregnant, sometimes it takes months. There isn’t a rule for that. But as you’ve been on pills for a while, chances are it’ll take several months for your cycles to come back to normal and for you to have a chance to get pregnant.”
You nodded, took the paper she handed you next.
“This is the list of things you should not eat or consume during pregnancy. I would recommend that you start avoiding these while you try for a baby, mainly because you will likely spend several weeks being pregnant and unaware of it. Of course, you can keep on eating regular food for now, but I would strongly recommend cutting on the drinking. I don’t think you smoke, right?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Good, so no smoking, and no drinking while you’re trying to get pregnant, these are the most important. Try to cut down on the caffeine as well. These can influence the early development of the foetus. And actually, it would be better for the dad to also avoid drinking and smoking while trying, as it can influence your sperm, both on quantity and how healthy your gametes are. It will also have an influence on the quality of the placenta during pregnancy.”
Andrew nodded, looking at the list with you.
“Obviously, the rest of restrictions when it comes to food don’t apply to you… lucky men…”
You both chuckled at that.
“Have you decided if you want to go for a private or public maternity?”
“No, not yet… We’re a little lost about that,” you shook your head.
“Well, I’m going to give you the contacts for some of my colleagues I work with in Dublin in both private and public services, then. The main differences are that… with a private clinic, you will be followed by one doctor, throughout the whole pregnancy, when in a public clinic, you’ll be followed by one midwife, not doctor. Which means that several specialists might check your results during your pregnancy. You can also have a private room, a TV, and a more comfortable stay in general in a private clinic, when you’re rarely in a private room if you go in a public establishment. The risks, the medical care, and the overall quality of how your baby and yourself will be taken care of are basically the same though. It’s more of a preference for you, but you will be well taken care of if you go to a public maternity service, okay? You don’t have to worry about that. I work more with public clinics than private ones, and so far, all of my patients have had healthy babies. Take your time to think about it, and tell whoever you choose that you’re one of my patients, as I’ve worked with these people often, and we know each other well by now. They will keep me updated on your pregnancy, and if you have any question, you can always ask me.”
“Thank you,” Andrew nodded, scanning the list of names she was handing you.
“Are any of you aware of fertility issues in your families or for yourselves?”
You and Andrew exchanged a glance.
“Erm… not that I’m aware of,” he shook his head.
“Me neither.”
“Alright, then… Remember that this may take a long time, even if there isn’t anything wrong with you. Former contraception, diet, stress… so many things can come to play when we’re talking about fertility. So, of course, if nothing happens and you get worried, we can check if any of you might have fertility issues, but at first just… take your time, don’t put pressure on yourselves, and it will likely work out, okay? Do you have another question?”
“What are the risks for a pregnancy?” Andrew asked. “Like… regarding Y/N’s health, I mean.”
“Pregnancies can be risky, there can be many complications, may it be during pregnancy or during birth. However, you’ll be accompanied throughout your pregnancy by medical staff, and the medical safety of patients in our country is perfectly acceptable. You’ll be well taken care of.”
She turned to her computer, quickly scanned the screen.
“Considering all the tests we’ve run together over the years, I’ve never detected anything that could show a predisposition towards any complication during a pregnancy. Besides, you’re both young, you’re healthy… there isn’t a reason for things not to go well. There is always a risk, but in your case, Y/N, you’re starting off with the risks at a minimum. Good place to start.”
You exchanged a smile, reached for Andrew’s hand. You saw him visibly relax in his chair.
You kept on talking for a bit with your doctor, and she answered all your questions, gave you some extra tips to maximise your chances to get pregnant. When you walked out of the building and towards your car, you felt much lighter, and so did Andrew.
He heaved a long sigh as he took a sit behind the wheel.
“So… it went fine,” you grinned up at him.
“It did, yeah.”
“Are you reassured?”
“About your health? Yeah, definitely.”
“Good.”
“So… we’re doing this, then?”
You looked at each other for a long while, stared into each other’s soul with so much love… and the ghost of a happiness to come you could guess already.
You nodded.
“I guess… no contraception tonight.”
He reached across the car to gently cup your cheek.
“I love you, my darling.”
You grinned, leaned over the console to kiss him.
“I love you too, honey.”
While Andrew was starting the engine and manoeuvring out of the car park, you stared at the lists in your hands, smiled tenderly at the thought…
Chapter 8: ‘Still, as the old year tips into the new, I insist on the infant hope, gooing and kicking his legs in the air.’
Hi, everyone! A happy Christmasy chapter ahead…
I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU), Sequel to Love in Verses, dadzier.
Warnings: fluff (a disgusting amount), angst for secondary characters, smut so 18+ only There are no warnings concerning the pregnancy (no infertility issues, no miscarriage, only tooth-rotting fluff)
Summary: Your life is perfect. You're married to the love of your life, your career is thriving as you work at Trinity College, in Dublin. You've settled down with your husband, and it seems that life is perfect these days. And yet, there's a tugging at your heart whenever you see baby clothes, a longing for something more. What if you wanted to be a mother? Are you ready to let this new joy enter your life?
Word Count: 2353
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist
“Your Luck Is About To Change”
(A fortune cookie)
Ominous inscrutable Chinese news
to get just before Christmas,
considering my reasonable health,
marriage spicy as moo-goo-gai-pan,
career running like a not-too-old Chevrolet.
Not bad, considering what can go wrong
the bony finger of Uncle Sam
might point out my husband,
my own national guard,
and set him in Afghanistan;
my boss could take a personal interest;
the pain in my left knee could spread to my right.
Still, as the old year tips into the new,
I insist on the infant hope, gooing and kicking
his legs in the air. I won't give in
to the dark, the sub-zero weather, the fog,
or even the neighbors' Nativity.
Their four-year-old has arranged
his whole legion of dinosaurs
so they, too, worship the child,
joining the cow and sheep. Or else,
ultimate mortals, they've come to eat
ox and camel, Mary and Joseph,
then savor the newborn babe.
Susan Elizabeth Howe, Poetry, 2002
You got an appointment with your OB-GYN for early January, there was no date available before the end of the year, but you didn’t mind. You couldn’t wait.
When Andrew blurted out that he wanted to have children too, you took a moment to discuss it all. There were still things you needed to decide, especially when you would get pregnant. Andrew insisted on getting a medical appointment before beginning to try for a baby, he was adamant about it. You smiled at the thought, as you recalled the look of determination on his face.
We need to do this as safely as possible for you.
Always looking out for you…
“Erm… love?”
You shook yourself out of your thoughts. Now was not the time to think about babies, you had Christmas gifts to wrap up in glittery paper…
“Hmm?” you looked up to find your husband staring at you from the hallway, tilting his head with an amused look on his face. By his side, Elwood shook remnants of melted snow and rain off his fur. Andrew had taken him for a walk while you were on gift-wrapping duties. Or well… you were supposed to be on gift-wrapping duties, you realised now you had not gotten much done, had spent most of that time lost in thought.
“You’re alright?” he asked, taking off his wet beanie and rubbing at his nose with his gloved hand.
“Yeah, I’m alright…”
“You seem distracted.”
“You’re distracting,” you dodged his questioning by making him laugh.
He took off his warm coat and wet shoes, and dried Elwood with the towel you had placed by the door before they would be back, seeing that rain and snow had started falling from the low clouds.
Meanwhile, you tried to find back your footing into reality. You pushed away the thought of baby clothes and little plushies. Now was not the time… you ought to get a grip…
You caught Andrew staring at you, leaning against the doorframe of your living room, looking warm and domestic in his tired blue jeans, his green pullover, his socked feet…
“What?” you asked him, rubbing at your face. “Do I have glitter on my face? This thing’s getting everywhere…”
He laughed quietly, but shrugged.
“Nothing, just… looking at you.”
“Freak… That’s creepy.”
“I know, I’m terrifying.”
He pushed himself off the wall, settling on the couch next to you. He picked a gift from the coffee table, some paper, and got to work. On the opposite wall, you had started a fire in your chimney, the creaking of logs burning and slowly turning into blazes and ashes warming the air. You loved this season, you loved this home you had built. Happy and warm and safe…
But Andrew had barely finished wrapping one gift that he was already on his feet.
You sent him a look, wondering what he was doing, but kept on wrapping presents. You were going to Andrew’s parents to celebrate, and some of his extended family was coming as well, so you had plenty of gifts to buy for the day this year.
You heard Andrew fumbling in the kitchen. He came back a few minutes later with two cups in his hands.
Hot cocoa with marshmallows. You grinned at the sight.
“Thanks, honey!” you grinned at him.
He merely hummed in response, smiling and sipping on his warm beverage. You saw his shoulders relaxing when he sank back into the couch.
“I was thinking,” he hummed, voice quiet while you struggled with the scissors, “we should turn my study into the nursery.”
You turned to him, your heart making happy jumps. Every time you talked about babies, your body sparked with joy. You were such a sap…
“We have an extra bedroom…”
“But it’s smaller. And my office is facing the garden.”
You hummed, dropping the glittery paper to sink into the couch, and then into Andrew’s embrace, taking your hot cocoa with you.
You looked at the Christmas tree you had decorated together a few days before. It was messy, but it was yours and Andy’s, a mix of your Christmas decorations and his and the ones you had bought together along the years.
How much had your life changed thanks to him…
“We would have to move a lot of furniture.”
“I’ll ask Jon and the gang for some help. We’ll get it done.”
“We should paint the nursery too.”
“Hmm… something soft. Pastel.”
“Yeah, something gentle. Like lilac, or baby blue.”
He hummed in agreement, drinking a gulp of his warm beverage again.
“Anyway, we have time to decide on all of that,” he sighed, slipping his fingers under your oversized jumper and your tee-shirt so he could feel the warmth of your skin on his palm. He settled his hand on your waist, spreading his long fingers over your body.
“You think it’s too early to start buying baby clothes?”
He laughed, throwing his head back against the couch.
“Yeah… I think it’s definitely too soon! We haven’t even started trying yet, for Christ’s sake…”
“But I saw this adorable little onesie with bees on it… like your bees… hang on, I’ll show you!”
You grabbed your phone, easily finding the picture you had saved there earlier. A yellow-coloured onesie with little bees all over.
“Isn’t that adorable?!”
He chuckled, a tender look making his hazel eyes glimmer.
“Hmm… okay, maybe that’s a little cute.”
“A bee baby, like their da the beekeeper!”
You both laughed, and Andrew looked at your screen again.
“How much is it?”
“So, I can buy it?”
“I asked for the price.”
“You’re a total goner for the onesie, admit it!”
“I like it,” he admitted. “But we shouldn’t buy anything before we go see your OB-GYN.”
You nodded, but the shift in the happy mood was obvious in the room.
“I don’t want us to get overexcited and then disappointed if we can’t have a baby.”
“I understand. But you’re the one who started talking about the nursery.”
He hummed.
“I know…”
You buried your face into his neck, breathing deeply his earthy scent.
“I can’t wait to have a baby with you.”
You felt his breath stutter under your palm.
“I really want this too.”
You opened your gifts right after midnight.
It was warm and loud and happy in the Byrnes’ house tonight. Raine had outdone herself in the kitchen, with some help from her husband and you, and the dinner was delicious. There was a fire cracking in the hearth, a couple of children playing around the table, Elwood snoring by the fire, and a happy buzz from light drinking for the adults. Raine’s sister was staying for a few days, and some of Andrew’s cousins had come for the evening too. They would be leaving early in the morning though, to visit family in other towns on the 25th, so you decided to open all the Christmas presents right after midnight, so you could still open them together.
You got distracted by the blinking lights in the Christmas tree, smiled at the sight. This was so nice… you felt emotional, all of a sudden, at the realisation of how much Andrew’s family had become your own.
Speaking of you…
“Alright, Y/N! That’s for you!”
Jon handed you his gift, a small packet messily wrapped in brown paper. He was smirking devilishly. You knew what it was before you opened the gift. You were already giggling before you tore the paper, revealing the ugliest socks you had ever seen. Grey with… what you guessed were some kind of onions on them…
You laughed, rolling your eyes.
“They are horrible!”
“I’ve outdone myself, this time around!”
You laughed, handing him his own ugly socks you had wrapped in glittery paper. It had become a tradition between the two of you. Every Christmas for the last three years, you had gifted each other the ugliest socks you could find. He broke into a fit of laughter at the red and purple socks you had bought him, with flashy clams decorating them.
“I don’t know who wins this round,” he laughed, drying his eyes and tilting his glasses to a weird angle in the process.
“I think you do, in all fairness,” you laughed, looking at the socks, while the rest of the family laughed as well. “These are terrible!”
You opened the rest of your presents. Some chocolate from Andrew’s extended family, along with some books. You frowned at the notebook Raine gave you though.
When you opened it, it was filled with her and John’s handwriting.
“These are all my recipes!” she said. “You mentioned you wanted to get better at cooking next year, and we figured… this could be useful for you and Andy. I’ve added my mother’s recipes too.”
Raine had no idea the timing of her gift was so meaningful to you. She was giving you an heirloom, and a priceless one. Her family’s recipes, passed to a new generation, and the thought of you making these dishes for your child…
You blinked tears away as discreetly as possible.
“Thank you so much… this is amazing! Thank you! It means a lot!”
You hugged your in-laws, and Raine fondly brushed a strand of hair out of your face when you pulled away.
“I’ve always wanted to give these to my daughter. I’m happy I can do it now.”
You brushed a tear away.
“Rainey, please, don’t make me cry now…”
You all laughed as you went back to sit on the couch, by Andrew’s side. He handed you his gift, a little envelope with your name on it. You frowned questioningly at him, but he merely wiggled his eyebrows in response.
“Merry Christmas, love!”
You opened the envelope, pulled out the paper inside.
It was a… set of classes… You read the document more thoroughly. Art classes… or crafts?
“I don’t understand…” you admitted.
“You said you wanted to try a new hobby, so… there’s this place in Dublin that organises classes for tons of stuff! Like… painting, pottery, knitting… all that stuff! You have ten classes along the year, you can choose whatever class you’d like to follow!”
You stared at him with tears back in your eyes.
“Thank you so much! That’s amazing!”
“Yeah? You like it?”
You nodded.
“My indecisive self is gonna struggle at choosing a class though…”
“You can try several things! You have ten sessions, but you don’t have to follow ten classes of the same thing. You can explore different crafts, and decide which one you prefer.”
“That’s perfect! Thank you so much!”
You hugged him, and then kissed him… and had to pull away when his cousins and brother started cat calling.
“There are children in this room!”
“Get a room, you two!”
Andrew fiercely blushed.
“Alright, alright… my turn!”
You grinned, handing your husband your gift first.
“Merry Christmas, baby!”
You handed him a long box, and he grinned as he quickly tore the paper.
His eyes grew round as he stared at the guitar strap you were gifting him. You heard his breath get caught in his throat.
It held his stage name carved in leather, along with some Celtic designs running along the strap. When he turned to you, his grin was emotional.
“Thank you so much…” he breathed.
“It’s gorgeous,” John nodded in agreement.
Andrew ran his fingers along his stage name. Hozier…
“I love it, thank you so much!”
He kissed you, hugged you tight. He opened the rest of his gifts, but his eyes always came back to the guitar strap.
You would kill him with your kindness, one day…
It was late once Andrew finally found a moment alone with his parents.
His cousins and aunt had gone upstairs to sleep, a few had left, Jon was driving home already. You and Andrew were remaining behind to help his parents clean up, as you were only fifteen minutes away from your home. It was a short drive, you hadn’t drunk at all, you could stay behind and help out.
Besides, it meant that you were alone, just the four of you, and that was exactly what Andrew needed.
He sent you a look, one filled with a silent question you seemed to understand easily. You nodded, growing nervous.
“Mam… I wanted to ask you something…”
Raine hummed, still washing the dishes, her hands covered with soap and bubbles.
“Is there… like… any genetic diseases running in the family, or something of the kind?”
She froze. John too. They both looked at their son with terror in their eyes.
“What?” Andrew asked back with a frown.
“Son… are you sick?” John asked in a tehmbling voice, but Andrew hurried to shake his head, and so did you.
“No! No! Andy’s fine!”
“Christ! No! I’m perfectly fine! I’m grand!”
“Why would you ask us that, then?”
Andrew winced, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously.
“Well… Y/N and I… we’ve started thinking about… children… and…”
Raine dropped the plate she was washing back in the sink in a loud clink.
“Oh! God! That’s wonderful! Are you pregnant?!”
“No! no! no! I’m not pregnant! Christ…” you buried your face in your hands. “We’re just… discussing it, and… we might start trying soon…”
“We just wanted to check if there was something running in the family we should be aware of before… you know… trying…”
“No, nothing. There’s nothing I’m aware of, at least…”
“Good, that’s grand…”
“We’re going to be grandparents!” Raine breathed, taking John’s hand and sharing an emotional grin with him.
“No… like… slow down!” you laughed.
“We’re not there yet, we’re just… discussing it, for now. Besides, we need to check with Y/N’s doctor if everything’s alright for her to get pregnant first. And then, we haven’t decided when we’ll start trying, so… relax, okay!”
But John was hugging you already, and Raine was wrapping her arms around her son.
“I’m so happy for you! You’ll be wonderful parents!”
