#me when I write

[catsushinyakajima]

A little snippet of a fic I'm uploading soon...

“You’re sleeping?” Lance cries.

“Great observation.” “I thought you—I thought—” Lance splutters. “I didn’t think you were going to sleep!”

Keith turns over his shoulder to see Lance’s agape expression. It’s funny enough that the humor distracts him from the pitter-patter of his heartbeat. “What did you think I was going to do?”

“Brood? Stare at your sword? Punch a wall?”

“Why would I punch a wall?” Keith frowns. “We literally have a training room.”

“Who knows?” Lance pushes himself away from the pillows. “I’ll…go then. I don’t—my bad, dude. Wouldn’t have bothered you so much if I knew you were headed to nap. I’ll go, then.”

“Wait.”

Keith’s breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t—what is he supposed to say? It occurs to him that he wants Lance to stay. That despite all his complaints and irritation, he wants Lance. Keith doesn’t want to go to sleep, at least not alone. He doesn’t want to be alone with his wicked, racing thoughts that hammer at his brain with every footfall. And he doesn’t—Keith’s mind roves through the faces of all his other teammates—want to be with anyone else.

It should be a shocking discovery, to know that he craves Lance’s presence, but Keith stumbles upon it like a natural truth that he has known all along. Like watching the laws of physics fall into place or the route on his father’s map lead to the Blue Lion.

posting it next week! Stay tuned!

[timberedfir2048]

weird kids

+ some doodles I like

first was silly gift for a friend, second is messy sketch of a scene from one of my fics!! I write fics btw you should read them!! TimberedFir2048 on ao3!!!!

[cervidaewasteland]

Medicinal

Summary: Once again mostly just fluff and stuff. Reader is on their period and is crampy so Andrew takes care of her

Warnings: f!reader, tiny tiny smut scene (just hand stuff)

Word Count: 1,093

A subtle starting pain in your lower abdomen was what woke you. You let out a soft whine, curling your legs up in an attempt to soothe some of the pain. Strong arms wrapped around your torso, followed shortly by a quiet groan of disturbance. 

“What’s wrong?” Andrew murmured, his face buried against the back of your neck. His breath was warm, sending a pleasant shiver across your body. You attempted to relax against him, but another sharp wave of pain shot through you, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut. He seemed to grow more concerned at that, fully sitting up now, his hand stroking your hair gently. Eyes still closed, you whimpered quietly. 

“Cramps,” you mumbled. Andrew frowned, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of your head before pulling you back against him—as gently as he could manage so as to not stir up more pain. He slid his hands beneath your shirt, palms resting on your lower stomach. They were cold at first, goosebumps spreading across your skin, but after a moment they warmed up, and the touch became soothing. He massaged gently, pressing reverent kisses to the back of your neck, his lips eventually trailing down to your shoulder. Eventually, the pain subsided—if only slightly. 

You hummed, rolling over in his arms to press your face against his bare chest. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close for a moment before speaking. “Here, let me get up for a second, we have some stuff for the pain I think.” He carefully extracted himself from your hold, causing you to let out a whine in response. With one last kiss to your forehead, he left the room. You curled up, trying to savor the warmth of the sheets where he had been laying. You were able to see the clock on the nightstand now—it was nearly two in the afternoon. Not an unusual time for you both to be waking up. In fact, it was slightly earlier than you’d usually expect to be getting out of bed. Andrew returned a few minutes later with a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers. He coaxed you into taking a few before crawling back into bed beside you, pulling you close. You laid your head down on his chest, focusing intensely on his heartbeat and the deep, steady sound of his breathing. His hand slipped under your shirt again, calloused fingertips tracing patterns onto your back. He dragged his fingers up and down your spine, and your eyes fluttered shut in response, a contented sigh escaping your lips. 

“D’you feel better?” He murmured, voice muffled against your hair. You nodded, nuzzling your face against his neck. His hands continued their exploration of your back, and eventually, you found yourself growing drowsy again. Unfortunately, just as you were about to fall back asleep, the discomforting pain returned, this time somehow worse. You whined, jaw clenching and muscles tensing up. Andrew’s hold on you tightened, free hand drifting down to your stomach. His hands were warm right away this time, the heat from his skin a slight relief from the tension in your abdomen. 

“Meds stopped working,” you complained, face still buried against him. He hummed, fingers teasing the waistband of your underwear. You pull away slightly to look up at him, questioning. He didn’t offer much explanation, though, shifting slightly to lay you on your back, trailing kisses across your face and down your jaw until he reached your neck. His hand dipped into your panties, and you whined, pushing him away to look him in the eyes. “You’re going to get blood all over your hands.” 

He didn’t seem too bothered, more annoyed that you were attempting to push him away than anything. With a sigh, you relaxed against the pillows, pulling him back down. “Fine. If you make a mess, though, I’m not going to be the one changing the sheets.”

“I know,” he murmured, lips once again attaching to your throat, nipping playfully at your skin. “You’ll feel better afterwards, though. You always do.” He pulled away again, only slightly. “Do you want this?”

You nodded, eyes closed. Clearly he wouldn’t  take that as an answer—after a moment of him not moving, you opened your eyes to look at him. “What?” 

“Do you?”

“Yes,” you breathed out. “I do want this.”

“Don’t sound so annoyed,” he chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again. “Consent is important, you know.”

“Mmmh. I know. Whatever.” 

“Such an attitude on you this morning,” he said, lips still pressed against your skin. His fingers inched lower ever so slightly, just barely making contact with your clit. The touch—even if slight and ghosting—was enough to make you gasp, breath catching in your throat. He seemed pleased by your reaction, humming and pressing down just slightly, slowly rubbing in achingly gentle circles. 

“Andrew,” you whined, your hands coming to his cheeks to pull him away from your neck. “Don’t tease me.”

He hummed again, smiling, resting his forehead against yours. He hesitated for only a moment before nodding, speeding up his movements. His hand pulled away after a few seconds though, and you were about to complain before he shushed you, sliding his fingers into his mouth for a moment to wet them before returning them to your clit. His lips trailed back up your jaw before meeting your own, fingers sped up just then, causing you to whine into his mouth, and him to groan in response. 

Due to how sensitive you tended to be while on your period, it didn’t take very long for you to climax, reduced to a stuttering, whining mess beneath him. He gradually slowed down his movement, peppering your face with kisses, whispered praises falling from his lips. Only once he was absolutely sure you had fully ridden out your pleasure did he fully pull away, kissing you one last time before sliding out of bed to wash his hands. 

He returned to the room a few minutes later with a soft blanket in his hands—one of your favorites—getting back into bed and wrapping it around your shoulders. It was warm, presumably having just come out of the dryer. You sighed, leaning yourself against him and allowing his arms to envelop you. Your cramps seemed to have finally left you alone, which you were relieved for. He seemed to fully wrap himself around you, murmuring something unintelligible against your hair before you both drifted off once more, comforted in the warmth of each other's arms. 

requests open ! Masterlist

[coolmaycroft]

Heavenly Delusion, ch. 60

[wolfstarsdocs]

James Potter was an attractive bloke—everyone knew him, everyone saw him, and more than that, everyone WANTED him.

However, there was only one boy James had his eye on. He had short black hair, a sharp nose with an even sharper tongue, and his silver rings wrapped around his fingers tight—the same way James wished those same fingers would grab him.

The best part was, he wanted James back. James knew it. He just didn’t know how to lock down Regulus Black. After years of trying (and failing), James was at a loss. The solution finally came to James when he wasn’t even seeking it.

A Gryffindor party, fresh off of a win against Ravenclaw: James was drunk off his ass, dancing in the middle of the common room to whatever guitar-heavy song Sirius decided he wanted to make out with Remus to. Bodies draped themselves on him, one after the next, all vying for a dance, and who was James to not indulge? He would put his hands on the girls’ hips, let them sway against his chest, he’d let the boys stroke his biceps and touch the dimples on his back that were exposed where his red tee shirt rode up.

Oh, yes. James was never lacking in attention. He’d dance a song with them, then slip away out of reach as soon as the melody changed.

At last, the song switched again. James slipped out of the hold of whatever Hufflepuff girl had her hands on him, and danced away to the opening guitar riff, when a new set of Ravenclaw hands grabbed him and pulled him against a strong chest. James laughed and went willingly, swinging his hips. The bass line thumped through the common room, and it was like it announced the arrival of the three boys dressed in Slytherin green.

James’ brown eyes immediately snapped to Regulus—how could they not? His pale skin, his slender figure, and his carved cheekbones immediately made him the most beautiful person in a room to James. Regulus leaned against the wall, scanning the room, when he locked eyes with James. He then looked behind James and the Ravenclaw currently running his hands up James’ sides, guiding his hips in circles, and his gaze narrowed. James didn’t break eye contact as he danced and gyrated, his body moving languidly in practiced motion. The tension was so thick, he felt it fill up the room, stifling: James loved it.

Strange as it was, this was normal. It happened every time Gryffindor had a party, even. Regulus would walk in, watch James dance with whoever was in the vicinity, drink, chat with Sirius for a moment, and then leave with Barty and Evan when they inevitably wanted to shag—Regulus never wanted to stay alone.

It’d be a lie if James said he didn’t feel disappointed every time Regulus would leave without speaking to him. But his piercing gray eyes watching, observing, sharp and steady, always made up for it.

Tonight felt like any other night, really, and James was growing more frustrated by the week. He decided that tonight was the night he didn’t care anymore. He always held Regulus’ gaze when he danced, but tonight? Tonight, he shut his eyes. He closed his eyes reverently as he leaned his head back on the shoulder of the Ravenclaw boy behind him—Tony? Todd? Whatever. It didn’t matter because Regulus didn’t care. So why should James? He shut his eyes and let the music consume him. The power chords chewed into his body, and the piano keys spat him right back out.

James rolled his head on his neck, brown skin on display for all those watching—and plenty were watching. But as he noted before, tonight was different. Tonight, James felt lips on his neck. They kissed and sucked and it felt different. The hands on his hips were gripping him just on the wrong side of tight. That was different too. But the most different thing about tonight?

A hand wrapping around his tie and tugging. James gasped and his eyes fluttered open as he was ripped from the grasp of the Ravenclaw behind him. He looked down and saw a pale hand adorned in silver rings. His gaze traveled up to an unmarked throat, a sharp jawline, and finally into graygraygray eyes.

Regulus tugged him close by his tie, and placed his pink lips on James’ throat and James fought to not shatter right then and there. Those lips felt nothing but right. They kissed, and nipped and sucked at his caramel brown skin, and this time, James couldn’t fight the noise he made as hands flew up to Regulus’ shoulders, gripping tight, making sure that this was real. That Regulus Black finally decided to have him.

“Regulus?”

Regulus’ stormy eyes looked up sharply, then they softened as they flickered across James’ face in disbelief. They twinkled with cocky amusement, and his lips quirked into a tiny semblance of the devastating grin that only belonged to him and his brother.

“Forgot me already, Potter?” Regulus murmured.

James gulped. “I—I thought you didn’t…I didn’t know you…”

Regulus twisted his hand in James’ tie, tugging him closer, his smile growing wider.

“Yes you did, Jamie. Don’t lie, now.”

James gawked in disbelief. “Regulus…I—when did you…?”

Regulus stopped him with a kiss. James couldn’t help but melt into it, tangling his hands in the black hair he dreamt about running his fingers through for years. Regulus slowly pulled away as James softly whined. One ringed finger traced down James’ brow all the way to his chin, his hand cupping James’ cheek. It was more tender than he ever thought possible for Regulus Black.

“Forever, Jamie. Forever.”

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Santi is winning the poll but i just found two delicious moonboy drafts….

[veravictorialee]

[emojisalad]

didnt do any writing (again) but i will 100% do some over christmas at some point bcs thats when all my free time is lmao

[lcngdays-arc]

Okay goodnight everyone

[s7toru]

everytime i have to do the links or the taglist an angel loses their wings 😞 also double update! ish considering 8.5 means nothing to plot !!

three more chs of the jjk manga left gojo’s coming back right? guys? he’s coming back rufht ……zzzzz weMrme hertimg him baxk rifjt

sorry . im particularly gojo pilled today time to write abt his death

[timberedfir2048]

Welcome!!! I make art of gay people and cartoons!!! And sometimes my fursonas and self-inserts 😼

I’ll add tags to this as I go along of my OCs and whatever AUs I may post about

Reblog account: letsdeweythis

AO3: TimberedFir2048

YouTube: TimberedFir2048

Artfight: letsdeweyit

[cervidaewasteland]

Vampire Hozier…that’s all I gotta say lmfao 😭🙌

a month later and its finally here !!!

Howl

Summary: A series of late night walks lead you to the porch of someone quite strange

Warnings: standard vampire things. f!reader, a tiny bit suggestive but you have to squint

Word Count: 3,489

It was highly unusual for you to even consider venturing out at night. You had always been a socially anxious person, only going out when absolutely necessary. Your job allowed for it–working from home had been a welcome change as of late. It was nearing midnight, and on any other night you would have been asleep, but there you were. Walking down the quiet streets—no destination in mind really, just walking. 

You weren’t quite sure what had compelled you to climb out of bed and leave the safety of your home. Maybe you had become bored of being inside all the time. But even then, why now? When it was dark, and the shadows seemed to lap at your heels, threatening to consume you if you paused even momentarily. You shivered as a light breeze passed by, kicking up your hair and spurring you to move faster. Even with the cold and the dark, you didn’t want to go home just yet. Something was urging you to keep going. 

Finding yourself on an unfamiliar street, you finally did stop. You glanced around for a moment, scanning the street signs, dimly lit by the lamps scattered around. Burrows Drive. You had no idea where you were. With a sigh, you turned around, hoping you could go back the way you came—but the street seemed to stretch on indefinitely, almost twisting. Not the same street you had come up. You looked around again, confusion etched on your face. Were you really that tired? Forced into delirium by your exhaustion? With a sigh, you decided to attempt to find your way home, glancing up every so often at street signs, hoping to catch a glimpse of a familiar waymarker. It felt like you had walked for hours before the silence finally broke. 

It wasn’t much. Just the click of a door shutting. Your head shot up towards the noise, and your eyes fell upon an entirely intimidating house. It almost seemed to whisper at you, beckoning you closer despite the immensity of it. You froze where you stood on the dark street, staring at the door. Painted black, finish sheening under the hesitant moonlight. It seemed like even the sky was afraid of the looming house. But, despite yourself, you took a step forward. 

However, you quickly changed your mind, cursing your own foolishness and hurting back down the street. Eventually, you did find yourself at home somehow, despite not having recognized the route home. It was nearing sunrise now, though, and that sense of unusual longing for something you couldn’t place had long left you. So you went inside, and you crawled back into bed, hoping to get some sleep before you had to be up for work. 

The rest of your day went mostly as usual. You had almost forgotten about the strange happenings of the night before, losing yourself in your chores and the demands of your job. It wasn’t until sundown that you began to feel strange again. Restless, almost. Like there was some primal need in your chest for something you couldn’t put into words. 

So you set out on another night walk. Maybe you won't get lost this time. Subconsciously, you found your feet carrying you down the same street they had the night before, and before you knew it, you were back at the house. The shadowy, looming house that really should scare you but instead invites you closer. And despite every instinct, you walked up the front porch steps. You were unsure of what it was that gave you the courage to knock, but you did, and just as soon, the door opened. 

The man standing in the doorway was almost intimidating at first—tall, curly brown hair framing his face and falling down to his shoulders, surely confused on why you’re knocking at his door when it’s so late. The more you looked at him, though, the less scary he seemed. He studied your face for a moment before speaking, brow furrowed. 

“Ehm… hello?” You had fully expected him to sound a bit confused. Hell, you were confused too. What exactly had you been thinking when you knocked on the door? Had you been thinking at all, or was it some sort of episode that pulled you to do so?

“Uh…. Hi.” You didn’t quite smile—just a slight, awkward quirk of your lip. You began to pick at the skin around your fingernails, unsure of what to say to explain yourself. What could you say? “Sorry for knocking on your door for no reason, I know it’s mighty late but I felt spiritually drawn to it.” Right. No. You'd sound like a lunatic. So you made something up instead.

“Is there something I can help you with?” The man seemed just as anxious as you were when the question came past his lips. You nodded, quickly thinking up a response. 

“Yes, uhm- I was just out on a walk, I was relying on my phone for directions and things but uhm- it died. Would you mind if I could charge it for a minute?” You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you waited for a response. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. Your phone was dead. You had been using it to play music, and after it had died you hadn’t bothered heading home. You supposed it was fate then that you ended up on this stranger's doorstep. 

“Oh, uh.. right. Sure.” He awkwardly stepped aside to let you inside, and hesitantly, you went. He shut the door behind you both and led you out of the strangely decorated foyer to the kitchen. The house seemed Victorian almost—just a few centuries behind the rest of the world, perhaps. The shelves were cluttered with trinkets and charms, none of them seeming to have any relation to another. You didn’t focus on it too much, though. You were already plenty embarrassed, and were more focused on getting your phone charged just enough to excuse yourself to go back home. 

He sat down with you at the dining table while you plugged your phone in, staying mostly silent. You didn’t look at him, but you could sense his eyes on you, watching your every move. After a few minutes, he finally did speak. 

“I’m Andrew, by the way.” You glanced up at him, nodding and telling him your own name. Both of you were quiet again after that, his fingers tapping insistently on the table. 

Finally, after what seemed like hours, your phone turned on. You waited for it to get to 10% before unplugging it, standing up and grabbing your bag. 

“Leaving so soon?”

His question startled you. You furrowed your brow, looking up at him. “Oh, uhm- yes. I should get home. It’s rather late.” He smiled, and some part of you felt drawn to him, almost wanting to stay. You pushed it down, though, allowing him to lead you to the front door. 

“It was nice to meet you.” His hand lingered on your lower back as he opened the door for you. Your heart began to race, blood rushing to your cheeks. “Feel free to stop by whenever you like.”

“Right. I will. Uhm- thank you, again.” You hesitated as you pulled away, smiling politely and stepping back out into the night. 

☽⭒✵⭒☾

The week had been dragging on, it seemed. It was finally Friday, and still the sun hung high in the sky, taunting you. You sat at your work desk, mindlessly replying to emails and wishing it was time to clock out. A few stray clouds skittered across an otherwise clear blue sky. It was one of those rare nice days, where the sun would beat down on you through the windows in your office, warming the space in a way that was usually quite pleasant. The clicking of your keyboard had begun to give you a headache. Was this really how you were doomed to spend the rest of your life? Stuck behind a desktop?

An eternity passed, and you were finally able to leave your chair, stretching the tightness out of your back and leaving the office. The sun had begun to set at that point, golden hour painting your home in a radiant glow. You trudged down the hall to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water, and suddenly, you had the urge to take a walk. You hadn’t ventured out since that last meeting with Andrew, having made the decision not to pop by like he had suggested. Something about that night felt… off, to you. Like you had somehow narrowly escaped some sort of vicious end. 

But anyway, you pulled on your jacket and your shoes and left the house, sure to lock the door behind you. You took a different route than you had the week before, eventually finding yourself on a charming trail belonging to the forest near your home. You hadn’t noticed, but it had started to get dark. Eerily dark. It almost seemed as if the trees were sucking you in, adopting you to the shadows in which they resided. When you did notice this, however, you had lost the trail. 

Anxious, you turned around, attempting to go back the way you’d come; but the forest seemed to twist around you, leading you in circles and preventing you from reaching the exit. Your heart began to beat wildly in your chest, that familiar preyish panic rising up in you. And so you started to run, hoping that if you went fast enough you’d reach the forest's edge. The trees grew thicker around you, forcing you to slow down, and in your exhaustion you stopped completely to catch your breath. 

You heard the leaves rustle behind you, and goosebumps covered your body. for a moment, you were sure you had imagined the noise, but then it came again and you started to run once more. WIth how dense the forest was, you were hardly able to dodge the branches. Your breath came in heavy, labored pants, lungs burning in your chest. You wanted so badly to stop, but something in you knew that if you did you would surely be subjecting yourself to something you didn’t even want to imagine. 

A particularly thick tree root caught your foot, and you fell, unable to brace yourself before the side of your head hit the cold forest floor. 

☽⭒✵⭒☾

The first thing you felt upon waking was the blaring heat of the fire in front of you. Your eyes opened just barely, the crackling orange flame too bright for you to register anything else around it. You almost wanted to go back to sleep, but then you remembered—hadn’t you been out on a walk?

You pushed yourself into a sitting position, hands against the cool leather couch beneath you. The room you were in was quiet, save for the crackling of the fireplace. It’s dark, but after a moment your eyes adjust, and you notice the window across the room, looking out on an inky black sky, lit only by the full moon. The room felt familiar somehow. You were sure you had seen it somewhere…

“Oh! You’re awake.” You jumped at the sound of the voice, looking up to see Andrew stepping into the room with a stamping mug in his hands. The faint smell of chamomile flooded your senses, an unnatural calmness washing over you. 

“Andrew?” You rubbed your forehead, trying to rid yourself of the throbbing pain that was sitting just behind it. “Why am I here?”

“Ehm, I saw you out walking a few hours ago. You went down that little forest trail just down the road, and when you didn’t come back for a while I got worried. I found you out in the woods unconscious, and I wasn’t sure where you lived so I figured I’d bring you back here. I hope that's okay.” He held the mug out to you, and you graciously took it, nodding slightly. You sipped the tea while you tried to think of a response, wondering why you couldn’t remember what had happened. 

“Okay,” you murmured as you set the mug down on the coffee table. The room seemed brighter now somehow, like Andrew had managed to bring his own glow into the space. 

“Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“Oh, not at all.” 

He settled on the couch next to you, and for a minute you were both quiet. 

“Would you like me to walk you home? It’s rather late.”

You thought for a moment before responding, weighing your options. Sure, some primal part of you seemed to be in fight or flight mode whenever you were near him, but he had rescued you from freezing to death in the middle of the woods. How bad could he really be? 

“Would it be too much trouble for me to stay here for the night? Just until morning, and then you can take me home. I doubt either of us want to be walking this late.” 

Andrew hummed, nodding and relaxing slightly into the cushions. “That sounds lovely. It’s not too late. Would you like a drink?”

You glance down at the still-full mug of tea on the coffee table and nod. A drink didn’t sound bad. It would help you relax at least. 

Twenty minutes later, you were on your second glass of wine—definitely loosened up. Andrew had turned out to be much better company than you had originally thought. The alcohol seemed to break through the outer shell of anxiety. He was sweet, too. Really sweet. You found your gaze lingering on his lips for just a moment too long, your thoughts teasing the idea of how they would feel against your own. 

“-are you even listening?”

You look up, a little wide eyed. The truth was, you really hadn’t been listening. But you didn’t want to seem rude, so you lied. “No, I was. I promise.”

“Are you sure?” He smirked, leaning towards you. You felt blood start to rush to your face. 

“Yes, I’m sure. Something about your garden.”

He hummed, leaning back again. “Well, I guess you were. I think there’s been a raccoon breaking into the greenhouse or something. I can’t seem to keep anything alive.” He sighed. “Or maybe I don’t have as much of a green thumb as I thought. The flowers seem to be doing just fine, though.”

He had been rambling on like this for a while now, jumping from topic to topic. it didn’t seem like he could stay focused on one thing for more than five minutes. 

“What about you?” He moved a little closer to you, his knee now brushing against your own. “You’ve been quiet all night.”

“Oh- well, there isn’t much to say, I guess. My life isn’t too exciting.” You bring your glass up to your lips, hoping to buy yourself more time to think of something to say. 

“Nonsense. There must be something. What do you do in your free time?” He set his own glass—it had been empty for a while now—down on the coffee table, his hand moving to rest on your thigh. You didn’t mind the touch. In fact, it was welcomed. 

“I read mostly.” You rested your glass against your knee. 

“What do you read?”

“A bit of everything, I suppose.”

“You’re quite the enigma, aren’t you?”

“Well, I could say the same about you.”

Both of you are quiet for a moment, staring at each other. 

“Would you come to bed with me?” His question caught you off guard with how bold it was. He hadn’t so far seemed the type to ask such a thing. Regardless, you found yourself nodding softly, setting your own glass down and accepting his hand as he helped you off the couch. 

You had expected for the rest of the night to go a certain way—something involving the removal of clothes—but once you got to his bedroom, he simply asked you to lay down with him. And you agreed—at first just not wanting to seem rude, but after a while you relaxed on the mattress beside him, shifting slightly to lay your head on his chest. 

“You’re very warm,” he said softly after a while, his fingers brushing through your hair. You nodded. The truth was, you were exhausted. That walk and subsequential running and passing out in the woods hadn’t done good things for your energy levels. Andrew held you a little closer, a little tighter in his arms. You felt yourself begin to drift in and out of consciousness, lost in a state of half-dreaming. You felt Andrew shift beside you every so often, but only really noticed when he buried his face against your neck. 

“Andrew… what’re you doing?” You groan, blinking the exhaustion out of your eyes. He just hummed, rolling you more onto your back and holding you down with his hips. 

“Nothing. You smell good.”

“What?” You woke up a little more then, halfheartedly attempting to push him away. He didn’t budge, not even seeming to notice your hands on his chest. He nipped slightly at your neck, his face hot against your skin. “Andrew, stop it.”

He sat up a little then to look you in the face. His pupils were blown, eyes almost black, glinting against the faint moonlight coming in through the sheer curtains. Something in his expression made your stomach turn—you weren’t sure if it was out of fear or excitement. Was there really any difference, anyway?

“I- I suppose there’s something I’ve been… neglecting to tell you.” His hand came up to rest on the side of your neck, fingers dancing across your skin. “You see, I’m not exactly human.”

Your breath hitched slightly, but he gave you no chance to respond, leaning back down to kiss the center of your throat. He grabbed your hips, keeping you still as he opened his mouth ever so slightly, sharpened fangs catching against your skin. A soft whimper escaped your lips, your hands moving to his shoulders, pushing him back slightly. 

“Andrew, wait,” you breathed. He pulled away to look at you, concern etched on his face. 

“What’s wrong? I won’t hurt you.” His thumbs rubbed softly against the exposed skin beneath the hem of your shirt, soothing your nerves ever so slightly. 

“Are you sure?” You studied his expression, searching for any hint of deceit or ill intent—you found none. 

“I’m sure, lovely.” He leaned down, pressing a few reverent kisses against your jaw. “I promise.”

You relaxed then, only slightly. His touch remained gentle, face remaining pressed against your neck. It was clear he wanted something. You weren’t yet sure if you wanted to give it to him. He seemed to sense your hesitance, stilling against you. 

“You’ll hardly feel it. I promise you.”

“Will it kill me?”

He barked out a laugh at that, looking at you once more. “Kill you? No, of course not. Do I really seem that sinister?” You felt your cheeks go red, suddenly embarrassed. 

“Well- no, I suppose not. I’m not sure, Andrew. I haven’t exactly met very many vampires.” 

He hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead before returning your attention to your neck. He nipped slightly at the skin below your jaw, not yet drawing blood. “I need your permission first,” he prompted. 

“Really? Well, maybe I’ll make you wait, then.”

Andrew let out a groan of frustration, burying himself further against you. “Please?” He whimpered, his voice muffled against your skin. 

You thought for a moment, a teasing smirk on your face. “Hm. Fine. Be careful.”

The feeling was shocking at first. He wasted no time in sinking his teeth into the side of your throat, one hand cradling your cheek and the other on your hip. He had told the truth—it didn’t hurt, exactly. In fact, it felt a little good. Your chest began to heave with each breath, adrenaline flooding your veins. 

“Andrew-” his name came out a breathless plea. He growled against you, teeth digging deeper into your neck. You whined in response, squirming beneath him. His grip on your hip tightened, keeping you still. 

After a moment, he stilled, pulling away and lapping at the bleeding wound above your collarbone. Once he was pleased with his cleaning of the puncture, he cupped your face in his palms, looking at you intently. Your eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion taking over you. 

“Are you alright?” He whispered, settling himself beside you. You nodded, and he pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his side. You nestled into him, already on the verge of sleep as his hand rubbed soothing circles against your back. 

“Get some rest.” He pressed a kiss to your hair. “We’ll talk more in the morning, hm? For now, you need to get your energy back.” You nodded one last time before drifting off to sleep. 

requests r open ! Masterlist

[interdimensionalsockdrawer]

The amount of simon and hershel content out there is so funny to me for some reason. Like GOOD KEEP MAKING MORE

[nemolfc]

depression is my middle name ayo.

[evidently-endless]

i think we should remind musicians they can absolutely make up little stories for their songs btw. it doesn’t have to be about them at all. you can invent a guy and put him in situations to music. time honoured tradition in fact.