When The Levee Breaks
You can't seem to watch your mouth tonight.
Word Count: 4.2k
Pairing: female!Reader x Hozier
Tags: Smut (18+!), breeding kink, dirty talk, piv sex, creampie my beloved
Beta by the lovely @uprightpillar
Read it on AO3
Transmasculine reader version
You’d never been in a building this nice in your entire life. You weren’t even sure what the building was. It seemed like the kind of mansion that would have gotten the owner guillotined some hundred years ago. Every hallway you walked down was fancier than the last, with sprawling corridors filled with windows, cavernous ceilings covered with murals, and ornate chandeliers that glowed dimly. The guests who walked among you were just as elegant as the building itself – people you would describe as high society.
“I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb,” you mumbled to Andrew, sitting next to you at your table.
“Half the people here feel the same way.” He gestured at the crowd with the glass of whiskey in his hand, before taking a sip and grimacing. He was clad in a tux that looked phenomenally uncomfortable, but god did it make him look ravishing.
It was someone’s wedding, the reception, a friend of someone or other of Andrew's, clearly someone with outrageous amounts of money to blow. You didn’t know them, and you didn’t particularly care to. Andrew wasn’t all that interested in the proceedings either, opting instead to keep a low profile and talk to you. Or, as low a profile that someone of his size could keep. He hated events like this. Hated wasn’t even a strong enough word – he loathed this type of gathering.
You could see it on his face, in the subtle disdain that glinted in his eyes, in the way he was drinking just a bit more than he normally would. You didn't mind a wedding, in fact, you tended to thoroughly enjoy them. But any gathering of this level of opulence was borderline unbearable for you. The only reason the two of you hadn’t left yet was optics. And the only thing that made it even somewhat bearable was the live band, crooning out covers of classics that Andrew seemed to somewhat enjoy, but few of which you knew.
You caught yourself zoning out, staring at one of the murals on the ceiling. When you finally snapped back to reality, you looked over at Andrew, who was already staring at you. He had a look on his face, one you’d seen before but couldn't read.
“What?” You asked with a soft smile.
“You just look quite nice tonight, is all.” He returned the smile, reaching over to give your thigh a squeeze.
“Thank you, love.” You gave him a soft smile. “And you look…” you raked your eyes over him, feeling a prickle in your skin at just how good he looked. His hair, cooperating today in the best way, pulled half into a bun with the rest tucked behind one ear. His outfit, the tux he kept in the back of the closet, his jacket undone as he reclined back in his chair, his legs crossed at the ankle, one hand holding his glass and the other dangling down to the marble floor. “You look like…I wish you’d dress like that all the time.”
“Tough luck, darling. You’ll have to drag me by the hair to get me in a suit like this within the next six months.”
You leaned a bit closer to him, propping your elbow up on the table to lean your head against your hand. “I bet you’d like that, hm?”
A flash of something passed over his face, imperceptible to all but you, there one moment, gone the next. He squinted at you over the rim of his glass before he spoke. “Don’t start. This is already bound to be a long night.”
“Start what?” You batted your eyelashes at him, playing dumb in the way you knew drove him crazy, for better or for worse.
"That."
"I don't know what you mean." You gave a little pout, and reached for your glass on the table, filled with some wine, you couldn't remember what kind and didn't care. "I just think you'd like the thought of me…" you reached out to twirl a finger in one of his curls, his hand coming up to wrap gently around your wrist. "Pulling at this pretty hair."
It was all bluster and both of you knew it. You would be doing nothing of the sort, unless he decided to allow you to use your hands while he was buried between your thighs. That is, if he even deemed you deserving of sex at all tonight. It was always a fine line you had to tread when teasing him like this. Just a bit too much, and he would genuinely punish you, by tucking you in to bed with nothing more than a kiss on the forehead. But just the right amount, and you'd be in a world of pleasure so perfect it would haunt you for weeks after.
He grabbed your wrist a bit tighter, and moved to stand up, pulling you along with him. He didn't say anything, only looking back at you with a soft smile as he pulled you gently along towards the center of the room. There, elegantly dressed partygoers danced slowly across the marble to the music. The band was playing some Frank Sinatra tune that seemed awfully cliché for an event so luxurious. The two of you disappeared into the crowd, all of them far too engrossed in themselves to even look in your direction. He stopped then, pulling you close with an arm around your waist, the hand on your wrist slinking up to cover your hand with his. It felt much more natural than you'd expected, when you rested your hand on his shoulder.
"What are we doing?" You asked quietly with a bit of a giggle as the two of you started to sway with the music, matching the movements of the other couples around you.
"Dancing," he answered plainly. "If you have more to say about what you'd like to do to me later, you can say it in a crowd of strangers."
It was a game now. A game of who would be braver, until the two of you couldn't take another second of the teasing. You had no intention of losing. "You want to hear more?" You asked, with that same fake innocence he loved.
"I'd be delighted, darling. Tell me."
"Well, I can't help but think about you taking this dress off me. It's terribly uncomfortable." You added a lilt to your voice.
"That so?" He smiled at you. "And those tights. Thigh highs, I presume?"
"Just the way you like it."
Your voices were quiet, drowned out by the chatter and music in the room, and you had no qualms that anyone would hear either of you. But it still made your cheeks flush with color, and sent a sick thrill through your body at the mere concept of someone overhearing.
"This dress really looks nice on you," he remarked, his thumb tracing circles into your back. "Maybe I'll have you keep it on. Pull it up just enough to do what I need to do, hm?"
"Weren't you the one who told me don't start?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.
"That I did." He nodded once. "And you started anyway, so now I have to play the game."
"We could end the game right now if you want. Right over that way…" you rested your cheek on his chest, pointing down a hallway with your gaze, which he followed. "There's a bathroom. And past the bathroom, a whole lot of empty rooms."
Laughter rumbled quietly in his chest. "A secret rendezvous in a dark corner of the chateau?"
You dragged your eyes back up to him, taking in the sight of him staring down at you. "Should I meet you down there in five minutes?"
He shook his head, narrowing his eyes with a smile when you pouted. "You want to know what I think?"
"What's that?"
“You’re hoping I fall for it.” He only gave you a cursory glance, before looking away at some unknown point in the room. “You’re hoping I snap, and I grab you by the wrist and drag you out of here, back to the hotel room, and I fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow.” It sounded remarkably casual, coming from his mouth. “Is that right?"
His words made your stomach twist, your hand clenching against his like a vice, your eyes widening. You couldn't meet his gaze when he turned to look at you, averting your eyes so you only caught the way his hair swept over his shoulder. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, while you stumbled over a response in your mind.
“You don’t have to answer. I know I’m right.”
Your brow furrowed, and you finally looked at him to find that shit-eating grin on his face you hated. It made him look far too pretty for his own good. You choked on your words for a moment, before spitting out just one. “That’s–”
He cut you off with a shush. “Be good, baby. Maybe you’ll get what you want.”
As much as he loathed a social gathering, he enjoyed a game of teasing more than enough to outweigh any hatred. He kept you waiting as long as possible, leaving the venue with zero haste after making you wait what felt like hours. You wouldn't know, though – he wouldn't let you check the time. Little touches here and there gave way to whispered promises of how he was going to simply ruin you. It left butterflies dancing in your stomach, and you wondered if you hadn't bitten off more of his wrath than you could chew.
Those suspicions would be proven more than correct. When the moment came, he practically dragged you out of the front door, shoving you into the car, telling the driver to hurry, please. In the elevator up to your hotel room, he'd taken you by the shoulders and shoved you into the wall, his hand cradling the back of your head and the other wrapped delicately around your throat as his lips met yours. You'd think both of you had waited years for this, the way you ran out of the elevator the moment the doors opened, down the hall and to your room, smiles and giggles the whole way.
Now, hours later or minutes later, who could be sure? Your clothes laid in a pile at the foot of the bed, your shoes thrown haphazardly somewhere by the door. Earrings still dangled from your ears and your hair was still pinned into an updo. Andrew didn't mind, it just gave him more to grab while he rode you down into the mattress.
The air was thick with it, the scent of you and him. Nothing else existed, other than the glide of the sheets beneath your sweat-slicked body, and him. The sound of him above you was like music to your ears. The symphony of your breaths in sync, the drag of his cock in and out of you, noises so obscene you had a permanent blush stuck on your cheeks. And when he spoke, the words that came from him were so filthy, they would make angels turn away.
You’d long floated away on a cloud of bliss, everything coming through your vision as hazy, bright smears of colors. You’d collapsed onto your stomach, yet two firm, gentle hands gripped at your hips, managing to keep your ass in the air just enough. He'd not been able to keep good on his threat to keep the dress on you, at least not for very long – he'd wanted to see your body a bit too badly. You're pretty sure he broke something in the hotel bed when he threw you onto it, but neither of you cared.
He was keeping his pace slow, preferring to watch you slowly unravel. There was no rush to finish. He'd already coaxed an orgasm out of you, and you were already well on your way to a second one.
He leaned down, one hand next to your head to hold himself upright as he murmured in your ear. "How do you feel, love?"
The change in angle had you arching your back into the mattress and digging your already cramping fingers into the sheets. "Good," you gasped. "Really…really good."
He pressed kisses along your bare shoulders, sweat dripping from him onto your back, the sensation nearly too much. Resting his forehead on your back, he shifted again, pulling your hips up a bit more to give him access to your core. Every stroke of his fingers against your clit was like an electric shock, your whole body trembling, your mouth forming nonsensical syllables and sounds.
Inside your mind was a war zone. Every time you closed your eyes, shapes and colors fought to make themselves known behind your eyelids. Thoughts, or at least the suggestion of them, raced through you like drops of rain in a storm. You could only see each one for a moment before it was gone, leaving the trails of a shadow in its wake. Things you wanted, words you wished to say, you tried to reach out and tether them, but it was no use.
There was something you wanted, something that burned hot and bright at the edges of your consciousness, but the static of him was too loud, too much. You fought back for a moment, an attempt to clear your mind. "Andy," you whined, trying to force the words out.
"Yes, darling?"
"Take it off." The words tumbled from your lips. It was a request you'd made before, and one he had obliged more than once, yet you still braced yourself for rejection.
He didn't seem to process your request, or didn't understand. He just huffed out a "what?" in reply.
"The…the condom. Off."
His hips slowed, then stilled, and then he was pulling out of you. He didn't say a word, and he didn't have to.
You babbled out something, some nonsense about wanting to feel him, needing to feel him cum, praying your words made more sense to him than they did to you.
"Baby," he cooed, with a hint of a laugh. "Shh. It's alright. I'll give it to you." His voice was so smooth, every syllable like music to your ears. You wondered if you'd ever get used to hearing it. He slid the head of his cock, now bare, along your core, drenching it in the mess of wetness that coated you. "Is this what you want?"
You whined, pulling away for a minute, moving to flip yourself onto your back. Your body felt so heavy, every muscle taut and strained with heat and pleasure. He guided you, strong hands pulling you back between his legs, two hands on your thighs lifting you into his lap.
"Better?" He asked with a smile.
You nodded, taking in the sight of him. He was just so beautiful like this. The little hairs that framed his face clung to his forehead and cheeks with sweat, and a pink flush was painted across his cheeks. The way he was looking at you was primal, wild, like you'd taken off a leash. Now, as he pressed back into you, he seemed to barely be holding himself together.
"Talk to me," he breathed, his voice strained, his breaths coming quickly. "Tell me how it feels."
"So– so warm," you choked out, bringing your legs up to wrap around his waist despite how sore your hips already were. "Full, and…oh, god, I need you to…to…"
"I know, love." He wrapped an arm under you, pulling you closer, needing as much contact with you as he could get. "You need me to fuck you full of me, yeah?"
You slung your arms around his shoulders, whimpering out a string of yes, yes, yes into the side of his neck, taking in the scent of his skin. Shampoo, and cologne, and that unique scent that was just him, it was all so overwhelming and perfect.
His next words were quiet, murmured into your shoulder. "You want me to put a baby in you?"
Time paused. He faltered for a moment, pulling back just a bit to read your face, see if he had crossed a line accidentally. His brow was furrowed with worry. Thoughts raced through your mind faster than you could track them, your mouth hung open in a half-smile. The look on his face seemed like even he couldn't believe he'd said that.
"I'm sorry, that was–"
You cut him off. "Yes."
As you both tried to process it, every movement hit you both like a bolt of lightning, his arm wrapping around you a bit tighter and your legs pulling him in closer. This was new. This wasn't something you'd discussed in the past, some existing kink or some fantasy. But you wanted it. You wanted him to do exactly that.
Fighting against himself, he finally managed to find a steady pace again. "My sweet girl wants me to put a baby in her," he cooed.
You pulled him back in close, nearly trying to fuse the two of you together. Shaking with effort, your legs were pressed tight to his hips, your ankles locked together in some kind of primal need to keep him close. "Keep talking," you begged, digging your nails into his back.
"Keep talking?" He parroted. "Do you want me to tell you how often I've thought about this?"
This angle, the curve of his hips, the closeness, it was perfect. Somehow, there was just the right amount of pressure on your clit, just enough that you thought it might actually be enough to get you off. Combined with his words, smooth and slow and sweet like honey, it was plenty.
"Do you want me to tell you how I wish I could always fuck you like this?"
"Tell me," you choked out, sinking your teeth into his shoulder to try to keep some semblance of quiet. This was a hotel, after all.
"Wish I could just…knock you up, over and over again." Such vulgarity wasn't typically Andrew's style, but he was much too far gone to make it sound pretty. "You'd make such a wonderful mother," he whispered.
Heat rushed through you in response to his words. Stimulation came from every possible source, every one of your senses heightened and overwhelmed. All you could manage to do was draw short hiccups of breath that turned into whimpers as they slipped past your teeth. Your hands were all over him, just wanting to feel as much of him as possible, all at once. You looked and sounded crazed, but you didn't care.
"Oh, my sweet, sweet girl. You need it so badly, don't you?"
You were on the verge of tears now, every thrust reaching so deep you could probably see it if he wasn't pressed against you. Teeth buried in his shoulder, you managed to squeak out something like mhm.
"It'll be so nice and warm. And you'll take every last drop, right?"
You dug your fingers into his back so hard you wondered if your nails had broken the skin. You hissed out a yes, no other words present in your brain.
"Of course you will," he said, with a singsong kind of lilt. The only betrayal of his calm, collected demeanor was the stuttering of his hips, and the almost frantic pace he'd worked up to.
It felt like you were losing your mind. He'd already unraveled you, now he was just tangling your strings. You pulled at him fiercely when he started to pull back, your limbs too weak from the constant strain and flex to hold him. He sat back on his heels, looming above you, never once pulling out of you. He found his pace again quickly, barely missing a beat.
"How's that feel?" He asked, watching as your eyes slipped shut.
It was all just so perfect. Every minute of it. You took in what you could of him through the tears that stung your eyes and their half-lidded state. He'd left his hair half-up, and god did it look nice, the way it moved with each thrust of his hips. His eyes traced along every curve of your body, down to the way his fingers melded into your muscles when he wrapped a hand around your thigh.
The constant stream of little breathy moans came to a grinding halt when his palm pressed flat against the skin of your abdomen, feeling himself inside of you. For a moment you saw stars, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream, the pressure unbearable, the pleasure unfathomable.
"Oh, does she like that?" He asked, a smile on his lips, pressing down a bit harder.
It felt like the wind had been stolen from your lungs, and you had to fight to recall how to breathe. When he adjusted his hand a bit, circling his thumb across your clit with measured strokes, you thought you might just pass out. You were clenched tightly around him, your hands twisted in the sheets, your back arched off the bed.
"Love, if you keep squeezing me like that…" His fingers dug tighter into your stomach, a warning.
You were near tears now, that familiar coil quickly tightening in your stomach. "Please," you choked out, a single tear coming with the word.
"Please what?"
"Need– I need–" you reached for him, your fingers wrapping around his forearm. You could barely think, everything was so far away, and everything felt so good. "Fuck, Andy, baby, I…"
"Darling, shh, I've got you," he whispered. He took his hands off you, pulling you back into the position you'd been in earlier, his body caging you in, his hips rocking against your clit in that perfect way. "Is that better?"
You nodded against his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him again. It felt like home, being so close to him. "Need–" your words came out between gasps of air. "Need you to– to fill me."
He always loved it when you begged. "Sweet girl needs me to knock her up?"
With the way his body was rubbing against yours perfectly, you were already teetering on the edge. You let out a shaky breath, followed by a yes.
"You're gonna be my good girl and cum for me so I can put a baby in you, yeah?"
You groaned, scratching deep marks into his back, so hard you pulled a satisfied hiss from him. Every sense was overloaded, the scent of him, the taste of his skin on your tongue, the sound of the dirty whispered praises he fed into your ears. His hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling into your hair and scratching lightly against your scalp. It was a stark contrast to the brutal pace with which he fucked you, even as his hand shook with each movement.
It snuck up on you, your orgasm. And when it hit, it hit you like a fucking train. You gasped in a deep breath, letting it out in staccato bursts as he built you up and sent you tumbling off the edge. Nails digging into his back, your legs wrapping so tightly around his waist it left your legs trembling. He held you close, letting you scratch and thrash and cry out while he whispered words of praise into your ear.
"Good job, baby," he whispered. "You're okay, it's alright. I've got you."
You were still riding the last waves, limp in his arms as he fucked you through it. A gentle smile was stuck to your face, the all of it feeling just so perfect. He was close behind you, his rhythm already falling apart as you clenched and fluttered around him.
He didn't bother trying to choke out any kind of warning, the need for it long since gone. With a quiet whimper into the crook of your neck, his hips stilled, giving way to short, shallow thrusts as he spilled into you. It was everything you wanted, everything you'd imagined. You could feel it, the warmth and the pressure and the way his cock twitched.
The tears you'd been fighting finally fell, as you were struck with a sudden sense of completeness. When he finally pulled back enough to look into your eyes, you were sure you looked insane. But he didn't seem to care one bit, pulling you into a slow kiss, one that radiated love.
You were like jelly when he finally pulled out of you, your eyes only ever half-open as you watched him waddle off to the bathroom with a giggle. You were half asleep through the clean-up process, as he planted kisses along every inch of your body he could reach. When he finally slid back into bed with you, throwing the sheets over your bodies, it was blissful. He wrapped himself around you, pulling you in close, blanketing himself with the scent of your skin.
You'd have to talk about it in the morning, you knew. But for now, tangled up with him, both of you coated in sweat and lust, things were perfect.
