#Andrew Chord | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arlh0e · 5 months

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Move me, Baby

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When you move

I can recall somethin’ that’s gone from me

When you move

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

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

“So move me, baby,

Shake like the bough of a willow tree

You do it naturally

Move me, baby”

Oh.

“So move me, baby

Like you’ve nothin’ left to prove

And nothin’ to lose

Move me, baby”

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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