raccoon-eyed-rebel - Tumblr blog

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Thank you for reading!

I'm sure we'll have much more fun bossing August around — and I'm also fairly sure it will happen sooner than you think, hehe...

Part 23

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 22 🟣 Part 24

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Fluff, ongoing vampire shenanigans, a little ace-angst...

Word count: 2k

A/N: More vampire feels for everyone!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie @plaidcat4815 @wa-ni (Fucking dumblr won't let me tag y'all)

“Darling, can you come to the kitchen for a moment?” Sherlock asked calmly. You rounded the corner and looked at them suspiciously — the way they were all sitting around the kitchen table with serious looks on their faces made the whole thing… just kind of sus.

“Did someone die?” you asked as you joined them at the table. This was not a nice way to spend your time after the lovely shower you’d just taken.

“Oh, no! Nothing of the sort,” Sherlock reassured you. That was comforting, at least.

“We just wanted to ask you…” August started, only to be interrupted by a very excited Mike.

“We want to take a little trip!”

“In fact,” Sherlock clarified, “we would love for you to spend the summer with us… with our family.”

“You mean,” you replied slowly, “I’d get to meet the others?”

“Yes,” August answered. “There’s only two of them, no worries.” You had been wondering how big their coven was, and it was nice to hear there weren’t too many introductions to be made.

“And one of them would be Charles, correct?” It was more or less a guess, but an educated one.

“Yes. There’s a chance my brother will show up — it is quite a nice house we have…”

“Then why live here?” If they had a nice house somewhere, then why did they share this apartment?

“Sherlock moved here to teach, Mike moved here to go to college,” Marshall answered.

Mike interrupted again: “Marshall missed me too much.” You raised your eyebrows and rolled your eyes, but Marshall chuckled and shook his head.

“He’s not lying,” he said. “It took me nearly a century to be able to live apart from Sherlock. What Mike neglects to mention is that he missed me, too.”

“Did not!” Mike faux-protested. “I only called him up on the verge of crying three or four times a week!”

“At the risk of sounding completely insensitive… What? Why?” you wondered.

“We suspect it’s a way to protect new vampires, and people,” Sherlock explained. “The very young ones can be unpredictable. It’s not as much of a problem these days; there are special feeding programs for juveniles — they feed more often for the first year or so… Anyway, before feeding became legal the way it is now, it was important that youngsters learned to… well, to be quite frank about it, they had to learn to not kill everyone they bit.”

“A hungry young vampire left unattended can — and will — kill a grown man in about three minutes,” August helpfully added. “Supervision was very necessary.”

“Especially during those times when secrecy was of utmost importance,” Sherlock continued. “One wrong move… It can be tricky to gain full control over the new levels of strength and speed.”

“Not to mention those damn fangs,” Mike noted. “Just getting the bite right is tricky in the beginning.”

“You don’t just… bite?” you asked.

“When we’re close to you, princess,” August said with a strange smirk, “we can feel every vein in your body.” Did that have to sound so… ominous? “That’s the easy part. The hard part is aiming. It makes sense to have someone teach you.”

“Most of us feed exclusively on their… let’s say ‘mentor’, for the first six months,” Marshall added. “Then, by the time they move on to human blood, they’ll have something resembling restraint. Usually.” He glared at Mike.

“Okay, my first human was not a success, but…”

“It was a disaster, Mike,” Marshall said, rolling his eyes.

“He didn’t… you didn’t… right?” You could only hope they understood what you were trying to ask.

“No, she was fine. But it was a bloodbath,” Marshall grumbled. “A waste of perfectly good food.”

“Says the one with the knife kink…” you blurted out.

“I wouldn’t have dreamed of wasting a drop of blood back then. Remember that feeding was mostly illegal during that time,” Marshall reminded you. “I almost lost a very willing volunteer that night.”

“How did that conversation even go? ‘Hello, would you mind if my intern performed the procedure today?’” Everyone laughed.

“Something like that,” Marshall said eventually. “I told Manu — her name was Manuela — I had a friend, someone like me… She jumped at the chance to be his first human.”

“She was great,” Mike remembered. “Very solid about the pain…”

“She got off on the pain, genius,” Marshall laughed.

“I know that,” Mike sighed. “But even then. Stop making me look like an idiot, I know you know what I mean!”

“The difference between enjoying the bite and enjoying the aftermath of the bite,” August guessed — and judging from the looks on Mike and Marshall’s faces, he was correct.

“Sherlock?” He was gone. Suddenly. Not that that was so strange for him — you knew what he could do — but to leave like that, without warning?

“He’s in his room,” the guys said at the same time.

Of course, you were the last one to reach the door — but the first one to knock.

“Come in,” Sherlock said reluctantly, and you opened his bedroom door. “I’m sorry I disappeared.”

“What’s going on?” you asked, sitting down on his bed, and reaching for him in a silent plea for him to join you. He did, wrapping an arm around your shoulders almost painfully tightly.

“I remember this time so very differently,” he whispered. “Many… volunteers, back in the day, were exactly as they describe. But many weren’t simply in it for the pain…”

“I mean, of course there was a sexual edge to it for many of them, but…” Mike’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Right. Shit…”

“It was particularly difficult to find volunteers willing to forego the…”

“Boinking,” Mike suggested.

Sherlock looked up at him. “You can’t possibly think that would have been my choice of words, Mike.”

“Fine, amorous congress, better?”

“Marginally,” Sherlock chuckled. “Even the ones who seemed content with such an arrangement at first often became bored with the lack of…”

“Boinking,” Mike said again. “Ow! Joke, people. Joke!” He rubbed the back of his head, where August had hit him.

“What did you do?” you asked, both concerned and curious.

“I had to eat,” he answered plainly. “There weren’t too many options. Telling people what I was, was dangerous enough in and of itself. I simply viewed the” — his eyes shot up to look at Mike for a second — “intercourse as payment for the service rendered. I should add that, during this phase of my life, I was far more repulsed by the concept of sexual activity than I am now.”

“That… changes?” you asked carefully.

“There is some fluidity to it, yes,” he replied quietly. “Completely involuntary and ungovernable, of course.” He sighed. “So far, the height of my interest in physical relations has been the willingness to please a trusted romantic partner. Which is not a state in which I find myself at this current time — regrettably, I might add. I’m sorry.”

Was he apologizing? “You are not apologizing to me for being who you are, Sherlock,” you said sternly. “I swear I’ll have one of them kick you!” You gestured at the others.

“I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not enough for you,” he whispered.

“Look at me,” you said, placing your hand on the side if his face. “You are more than enough for me. Our relationship is… whole. It’s not lacking, it’s not incomplete, it’s everything it’s supposed to be.”

“If that were true,” he said, “you wouldn’t have wondered why we weren’t sleeping together.”

“Oh, good God,” you sighed. “That was because of some misaligned expectations on my part, and you know it, Holmes! If you desperately want to apologize for something, apologize for not managing those expectations sooner.”

He gave you a kind smile that was unable to hide the pain in his eyes, and took your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “I still wish it were different.”

“Well, I don’t ,” you snapped. “Because I love you. Now, tell me more about this trip we’re taking, please.” You threw an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. “Who is this mysterious coven member I’ve never heard any of you talk about? And are my, ehm… services expected to be extended to them? I mean, I—”

“No,” August snarled unexpectedly aggressively. He calmed down slightly when Marshall put a hand on his chest. “No,” he said again, this time whispering so softly you could barely hear him. Now, August having a strained relationship with Charles wasn’t exactly news to you, but even then, this reaction seemed a bit extreme…

“August, I know you don’t like him much, but we both know the most likely scenario,” Marshall replied to August’s outburst.

“And what is the most likely scenario?” Mike fidgeted with his own fingers, clearly nervous.

“That I will want to,” you said without thinking. “That’s it, right? What everyone is thinking? That I’ll want to feed them?”

Sherlock nodded slowly. “Though the agreed upon parameters of out contract do not extend to them, and you will not be responsible for keeping them alive.”

“So, by all means,” August hissed, “refuse him service.”

“August,” Sherlock warned, and to your surprise, August relaxed immediately. “Play nice.” There was an edge to his voice, almost a kind of buzz. The words felt fuzzy in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“Remember the hierarchy, love?” Marshall reminded you.

“Right…” You’d almost forgotten about that — probably because Sherlock never really pulled rank — just like you’d forgotten about the fact that…

“You can boss us around too, princess,” August said with a smile. “Although I’m quite glad you… don’t.” At least not to him…

“Mystery coven member, guys!” you reminded them of your other question.

“Ah, right,” Sherlock said with a smile. “He is the man who turned me and Charles, nearly a millennium ago. His name is Melot.”

“He’s close to, what? 1400 years old now?” Mike asked, more than said.

“Give or take,” August shrugged. “It doesn’t come down to the century once you start talking about those kinds of numbers.”

“His history is interesting, but you��ll have to ask him about it,” Marshall said before you could voice any of the questions that popped into your mind. “Pack your bags, love.”

“Don’t you have to, like… call them? Let them know we’re coming? Or did you guys plan this whole trip without ever letting me know?” It wouldn’t have surprised you, but you would have had a thing or two to say about it, for sure.

“He knows we’re coming,” August said plainly. Why was he suddenly holding your suitcase? “Anything already in here stays in here.”

You glared at him, getting up off the bed and closing the distance between you with a single step. “August Walker, you… you…”

“Use your words, princess.” He grinned, and you caught a hint of his fangs. It was infuriating.

And then you felt it.

Heat. Strength. Power.

“You insolent jackass,” you growled. “If you know everything so well, then why don’t you pack up the rest of my stuff. And you had better get it right the first time.”

A low growl escaped him before he disappeared from the room, and the strange feeling disappeared.

“Wow,” you said. “Never thought I could actually make August my bitch…”

“You may have won the battle, darling,” Sherlock said. An amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “But I doubt you’ll win the war.”

“I, for one, doubt you’ll be able to sit when he’s through with you,” Mike chuckled. “He wanted to spank the shit out of you as soon as he sensed the shift, but he couldn’t. Because hierarchy…”

“You did nothing wrong, love,” Marshall, as always, managed flawlessly to put your unspoken panic at ease. “If anything, I’d say he had it coming.”

“I’ll talk you through the etiquette during the flight,” Sherlock chuckled, no longer trying to hide his smile. “You’ll learn to control it, eventually.”

“Okay hold on for one teeny tiny little moment there,” you said. “What do you mean by ‘during the flight’? Where the hell are we going?”

“Home.” Mike said with a big smile.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

NO SY.

(Sorry not sorry 😂😂 We're not calling the whole crescent street crew in 👀👀)

I know Sherlock should have told her sooner, but like... she also could have taken the 'TALK TO HIM'-advice the first time she got it...

I hope you'll like what I have in store for our favorite vamps next <3

Part 23

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 22 🟣 Part 24

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Fluff, ongoing vampire shenanigans, a little ace-angst...

Word count: 2k

A/N: More vampire feels for everyone!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie @plaidcat4815 @wa-ni (Fucking dumblr won't let me tag y'all)

“Darling, can you come to the kitchen for a moment?” Sherlock asked calmly. You rounded the corner and looked at them suspiciously — the way they were all sitting around the kitchen table with serious looks on their faces made the whole thing… just kind of sus.

“Did someone die?” you asked as you joined them at the table. This was not a nice way to spend your time after the lovely shower you’d just taken.

“Oh, no! Nothing of the sort,” Sherlock reassured you. That was comforting, at least.

“We just wanted to ask you…” August started, only to be interrupted by a very excited Mike.

“We want to take a little trip!”

“In fact,” Sherlock clarified, “we would love for you to spend the summer with us… with our family.”

“You mean,” you replied slowly, “I’d get to meet the others?”

“Yes,” August answered. “There’s only two of them, no worries.” You had been wondering how big their coven was, and it was nice to hear there weren’t too many introductions to be made.

“And one of them would be Charles, correct?” It was more or less a guess, but an educated one.

“Yes. There’s a chance my brother will show up — it is quite a nice house we have…”

“Then why live here?” If they had a nice house somewhere, then why did they share this apartment?

“Sherlock moved here to teach, Mike moved here to go to college,” Marshall answered.

Mike interrupted again: “Marshall missed me too much.” You raised your eyebrows and rolled your eyes, but Marshall chuckled and shook his head.

“He’s not lying,” he said. “It took me nearly a century to be able to live apart from Sherlock. What Mike neglects to mention is that he missed me, too.”

“Did not!” Mike faux-protested. “I only called him up on the verge of crying three or four times a week!”

“At the risk of sounding completely insensitive… What? Why?” you wondered.

“We suspect it’s a way to protect new vampires, and people,” Sherlock explained. “The very young ones can be unpredictable. It’s not as much of a problem these days; there are special feeding programs for juveniles — they feed more often for the first year or so… Anyway, before feeding became legal the way it is now, it was important that youngsters learned to… well, to be quite frank about it, they had to learn to not kill everyone they bit.”

“A hungry young vampire left unattended can — and will — kill a grown man in about three minutes,” August helpfully added. “Supervision was very necessary.”

“Especially during those times when secrecy was of utmost importance,” Sherlock continued. “One wrong move… It can be tricky to gain full control over the new levels of strength and speed.”

“Not to mention those damn fangs,” Mike noted. “Just getting the bite right is tricky in the beginning.”

“You don’t just… bite?” you asked.

“When we’re close to you, princess,” August said with a strange smirk, “we can feel every vein in your body.” Did that have to sound so… ominous? “That’s the easy part. The hard part is aiming. It makes sense to have someone teach you.”

“Most of us feed exclusively on their… let’s say ‘mentor’, for the first six months,” Marshall added. “Then, by the time they move on to human blood, they’ll have something resembling restraint. Usually.” He glared at Mike.

“Okay, my first human was not a success, but…”

“It was a disaster, Mike,” Marshall said, rolling his eyes.

“He didn’t… you didn’t… right?” You could only hope they understood what you were trying to ask.

“No, she was fine. But it was a bloodbath,” Marshall grumbled. “A waste of perfectly good food.”

“Says the one with the knife kink…” you blurted out.

“I wouldn’t have dreamed of wasting a drop of blood back then. Remember that feeding was mostly illegal during that time,” Marshall reminded you. “I almost lost a very willing volunteer that night.”

“How did that conversation even go? ‘Hello, would you mind if my intern performed the procedure today?’” Everyone laughed.

“Something like that,” Marshall said eventually. “I told Manu — her name was Manuela — I had a friend, someone like me… She jumped at the chance to be his first human.”

“She was great,” Mike remembered. “Very solid about the pain…”

“She got off on the pain, genius,” Marshall laughed.

“I know that,” Mike sighed. “But even then. Stop making me look like an idiot, I know you know what I mean!”

“The difference between enjoying the bite and enjoying the aftermath of the bite,” August guessed — and judging from the looks on Mike and Marshall’s faces, he was correct.

“Sherlock?” He was gone. Suddenly. Not that that was so strange for him — you knew what he could do — but to leave like that, without warning?

“He’s in his room,” the guys said at the same time.

Of course, you were the last one to reach the door — but the first one to knock.

“Come in,” Sherlock said reluctantly, and you opened his bedroom door. “I’m sorry I disappeared.”

“What’s going on?” you asked, sitting down on his bed, and reaching for him in a silent plea for him to join you. He did, wrapping an arm around your shoulders almost painfully tightly.

“I remember this time so very differently,” he whispered. “Many… volunteers, back in the day, were exactly as they describe. But many weren’t simply in it for the pain…”

“I mean, of course there was a sexual edge to it for many of them, but…” Mike’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Right. Shit…”

“It was particularly difficult to find volunteers willing to forego the…”

“Boinking,” Mike suggested.

Sherlock looked up at him. “You can’t possibly think that would have been my choice of words, Mike.”

“Fine, amorous congress, better?”

“Marginally,” Sherlock chuckled. “Even the ones who seemed content with such an arrangement at first often became bored with the lack of…”

“Boinking,” Mike said again. “Ow! Joke, people. Joke!” He rubbed the back of his head, where August had hit him.

“What did you do?” you asked, both concerned and curious.

“I had to eat,” he answered plainly. “There weren’t too many options. Telling people what I was, was dangerous enough in and of itself. I simply viewed the” — his eyes shot up to look at Mike for a second — “intercourse as payment for the service rendered. I should add that, during this phase of my life, I was far more repulsed by the concept of sexual activity than I am now.”

“That… changes?” you asked carefully.

“There is some fluidity to it, yes,” he replied quietly. “Completely involuntary and ungovernable, of course.” He sighed. “So far, the height of my interest in physical relations has been the willingness to please a trusted romantic partner. Which is not a state in which I find myself at this current time — regrettably, I might add. I’m sorry.”

Was he apologizing? “You are not apologizing to me for being who you are, Sherlock,” you said sternly. “I swear I’ll have one of them kick you!” You gestured at the others.

“I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not enough for you,” he whispered.

“Look at me,” you said, placing your hand on the side if his face. “You are more than enough for me. Our relationship is… whole. It’s not lacking, it’s not incomplete, it’s everything it’s supposed to be.”

“If that were true,” he said, “you wouldn’t have wondered why we weren’t sleeping together.”

“Oh, good God,” you sighed. “That was because of some misaligned expectations on my part, and you know it, Holmes! If you desperately want to apologize for something, apologize for not managing those expectations sooner.”

He gave you a kind smile that was unable to hide the pain in his eyes, and took your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “I still wish it were different.”

“Well, I don’t ,” you snapped. “Because I love you. Now, tell me more about this trip we’re taking, please.” You threw an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. “Who is this mysterious coven member I’ve never heard any of you talk about? And are my, ehm… services expected to be extended to them? I mean, I—”

“No,” August snarled unexpectedly aggressively. He calmed down slightly when Marshall put a hand on his chest. “No,” he said again, this time whispering so softly you could barely hear him. Now, August having a strained relationship with Charles wasn’t exactly news to you, but even then, this reaction seemed a bit extreme…

“August, I know you don’t like him much, but we both know the most likely scenario,” Marshall replied to August’s outburst.

“And what is the most likely scenario?” Mike fidgeted with his own fingers, clearly nervous.

“That I will want to,” you said without thinking. “That’s it, right? What everyone is thinking? That I’ll want to feed them?”

Sherlock nodded slowly. “Though the agreed upon parameters of out contract do not extend to them, and you will not be responsible for keeping them alive.”

“So, by all means,” August hissed, “refuse him service.”

“August,” Sherlock warned, and to your surprise, August relaxed immediately. “Play nice.” There was an edge to his voice, almost a kind of buzz. The words felt fuzzy in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“Remember the hierarchy, love?” Marshall reminded you.

“Right…” You’d almost forgotten about that — probably because Sherlock never really pulled rank — just like you’d forgotten about the fact that…

“You can boss us around too, princess,” August said with a smile. “Although I’m quite glad you… don’t.” At least not to him…

“Mystery coven member, guys!” you reminded them of your other question.

“Ah, right,” Sherlock said with a smile. “He is the man who turned me and Charles, nearly a millennium ago. His name is Melot.”

“He’s close to, what? 1400 years old now?” Mike asked, more than said.

“Give or take,” August shrugged. “It doesn’t come down to the century once you start talking about those kinds of numbers.”

“His history is interesting, but you’ll have to ask him about it,” Marshall said before you could voice any of the questions that popped into your mind. “Pack your bags, love.”

“Don’t you have to, like… call them? Let them know we’re coming? Or did you guys plan this whole trip without ever letting me know?” It wouldn’t have surprised you, but you would have had a thing or two to say about it, for sure.

“He knows we’re coming,” August said plainly. Why was he suddenly holding your suitcase? “Anything already in here stays in here.”

You glared at him, getting up off the bed and closing the distance between you with a single step. “August Walker, you… you…”

“Use your words, princess.” He grinned, and you caught a hint of his fangs. It was infuriating.

And then you felt it.

Heat. Strength. Power.

“You insolent jackass,” you growled. “If you know everything so well, then why don’t you pack up the rest of my stuff. And you had better get it right the first time.”

A low growl escaped him before he disappeared from the room, and the strange feeling disappeared.

“Wow,” you said. “Never thought I could actually make August my bitch…”

“You may have won the battle, darling,” Sherlock said. An amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “But I doubt you’ll win the war.”

“I, for one, doubt you’ll be able to sit when he’s through with you,” Mike chuckled. “He wanted to spank the shit out of you as soon as he sensed the shift, but he couldn’t. Because hierarchy…”

“You did nothing wrong, love,” Marshall, as always, managed flawlessly to put your unspoken panic at ease. “If anything, I’d say he had it coming.”

“I’ll talk you through the etiquette during the flight,” Sherlock chuckled, no longer trying to hide his smile. “You’ll learn to control it, eventually.”

“Okay hold on for one teeny tiny little moment there,” you said. “What do you mean by ‘during the flight’? Where the hell are we going?”

“Home.” Mike said with a big smile.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

So I just saw a post by a random personal blog that said “don’t follow me if we never even had a conversation before” and?????? Not to be rude but literally what the fuck??????????

I’ve had people (non-pornbots) try to strike conversation out of nowhere in my DMs recently, and now I’m wondering if they were doing that because they wanted to follow me and thought they needed to interact first. I feel compelled to say, just in case, that it’s totally okay to follow this blog (or my side blog, for that matter) even if we’ve never talked before.

Also, I’m legit confused. Is this how follow culture works right now? It was worded like it’s common sense but is that really a thing?

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Hungry baby

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Henry Cavill → USAToday 

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Dr. Cole (@coley013)

Oh god this is me. @nuggsmum @ms-cellanies @inkededucatednnerdy @suometar @angreav @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @ourladybinxthings

Ps poor scared Kitty

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

NO MY GOD THE EXACT SAME THING HAPPENED TO ME (except I'm not single either so it's the pot calling the kettle whipped, I guess)

Part 27 - Girls just wanna have fun

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 26 -- Part 28

Summary: The girls have their long awaited girls' night!

Warnings: recreational drinking, lots of sex talk in probably way too much detail...

Word count: 7k

A/N: Alright, prepare to learn some new things about the girls, and be reminded of some favorite - or less favorite, I don't know - moments... I had absolutely never planned for this to be so insanely long...

@geralts-yenn @summersong69 @livisss @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn @ylva-syverson @poledancingdinos @deandoesthingstome

“Elena! Come in!” A shivering Elena stepped into the apartment, handing Dani her bags, and hanging her coat on the coat rack Dani pointed to. “Can I get you some tea? Hot chocolate?”

“Mulled wine,” Ariel called over from the table.

Elena’s eyes lit up. “You guys have mulled wine?”

“Sloane felt like making it,” Dani laughed, “want some?”

“Please! It’s freezing out!” It really was. Over the past few days, it had been snowing almost constantly, and today was no exception. “This snowstorm makes me wish I was with Sherlock right now,” Elena sighed. At the table, Sloane and Ariel rolled their eyes.

“Not this again, we just heard thirty minutes of this from Dani and Sol! ‘Oh, I wish I could snuggle up to Mike right now, blah blah blah.’ ‘Oh, I wish Geralt were here so he could make me warm with his big strong arms-‘“

“I did not say that!” Sol interrupted as she shuffled the deck of cards she was holding.

“Maybe I took some creative liberties,” Ariel replied, “but that was the gist of it, wasn’t it?”

Sol shrugged. She wasn’t too far off, there had indeed been some complaining about the lack of contact of the intimate variety. “Besides,” she said, “you cannot possibly blame me for wanting to jump that man. Right, Dani?”

“I’ve already apologized for that!” Dani complained as she walked back from the kitchen, holding a tray full of steaming cups.

Sloane, Ariel and Elena gathered around Sol at the table, mischievous looks in their eyes. “What happened?”

“Mike issued a ban on Geralt walking around the house without a shirt on,” Sol said with an apologetic smile to Dani, “because apparently she was rather… distracted… by the sight.”

“And you would have been too,” Dani said before any of the others could open their mouths. “That man is a beast.”

“Alright, that’s enough drooling over our wine, thank you…” Ariel took a cup off the tray and leaned back. “Besides, I don’t think I believe any of this. She drools over Mike the same way and – I am so very sorry about this – he’s a skinny little twig.”

Dani huffed at the insult. “He’s not! He’s… lean.” Alright, maybe he was a skinny little twig – especially compared to Geralt. But he was her skinny little twig. “Anyway, Elena! Sol was going to do a tarot reading before you came in, can we get back to that?”

“Nice try,” Sloane laughed, “so, Sol… is she exaggerating?” Her eyes went wide when Sol shook her head – a little too slowly, and a little too smugly, maybe.

“I might have a picture somewhere…” She put the cards down and picked up her phone while the others wondered why she had shirtless pictures of her boyfriend on her phone. “We were in a long-distance relationship for three years… I could show you a picture of his cock if I wanted to. And before you ask, I don’t want to.” She chuckled as Sloane rolled her eyes, knowing she was only half-joking.

“Does anyone know why Ange is late?” Elena interrupted. Anjelica wasn’t the type to be late. In fact, everyone was more than a little surprised that she hadn’t shown up hours early, asking what she could help with. Solveig didn’t seem to know anything other than that she had to pick something up before the party.

After some more wine, some silly jokes and an interesting tarot reading for Ariel – where Sol told her she couldn’t know if some things were mistakes until after the fact, and which seemed to turn her a little quiet for a moment – there was another knock on the door.

“Hi everyone!” Ange beamed when she came in. Behind her was a girl none of the others recognized. “This is my gym bestie, Alexandra Carson. You can call her Alex.”

“Hi,” Alex said a bit awkwardly. “I thought you said they knew I was coming,” she whispered to Anjelica, who shrugged apologetically.

Elena was the first to put two and two together: “Alexandra… The Lexi?”

“Only Marshall calls me that.” From the way she was standing there, everyone could tell that she was hurt – it was obvious in her eyes, her posture, and the way she bit her lip. “Angie invited me. She said you guys were okay with it, and that maybe you could help. If you don’t want me here, I’ll… I’ll go.”

“Please don’t leave,” Dani said as she reached out a hand and pulled Alex into the room. Then, she turned to Anjelica: “You know, you could have told us?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t take that risk. I’m scheming, leave me be.” She joined the others at the table and eyed the cards Sol still had laying in front of her. “Are you getting your witch on?”

“I was just done,” Sol replied, “I can’t concentrate with all of you around me, anyway.”

“She was finding us a picture of Geralt’s abs,” Ariel reminded her, and Alex was suspiciously quick to sit down.

“Oh, yes please,” Anjelica begged, “that man is a god.” She seemed to disappear in her thoughts for a moment, until Dani brought her back by reminding her of the existence of August, who – according to Dani’s mild description ‘didn’t look too bad, either’. “Oh, he’s a boxer, he’s got plenty of muscle, it’s just… You haven’t truly lived until you’ve seen Geralt half naked. I swear I dream of that man sometimes, sorry Sol.”

“It’s okay,” she replied with a smug smile, “I get it.” Something in her eyes told the others there was something she wasn’t telling them. Luckily, Ange was the queen of staring people down – which was impressive, because she was usually staring up at people. Sol folded her hands in her lap, something in her expression vaguely resembling guilt. “Alright, confession time?”

“Spit it out, Gustavsson,” Ange laughed.

“Last year, when I visited Geralt over the summer, I walked into the bathroom just as August got out of the shower…” Solveig made a vague and confused gesture at Anjelica’s body. “How? Where… How?”

“Oh good, we’re really gonna start this already! I need a drink!” Ange said before laughing. “Lots and lots of practice?” she added suggestively in reply to the question.

In the meantime, Sol had found the picture she was looking for and shared it with the rest, stressing this was the most innocent one she could find.

“Is that code for ‘the only one that doesn’t have his dick in it’?” Sloane didn’t deal in subtlety. Ever.

“Yes,” Sol replied point blank, rolling her eyes at Dani and Alex’ shocked expressions. “Babes, I was in a long-distance relationship for three years. The only things I could do with that thing were look at it and dream about it…”

“I wasn’t in a long-distance relationship for the past years and I have plenty of… material,” Ange laughed, turning her phone to reveal a shirtless August. “Besides, Dani, you’ve been going out with Mike for what? Four weeks? You must have tons of these?” Her eyes widened when Dani slowly shook her head.

“It’s mostly memes… fine, here.” She pulled up the conversation with Mike and put the phone in Angie’s eagerly outstretched hand.

“I’m not gonna find his dick in here, am I?” Ange asked while she was already scrolling through the pictures. “Ex-cuse me!” She turned Dani’s phone back to the others. “That’s a shameless thirst trap if I ever saw one…”

“Dani, for fuck’s sake!” Ariel playfully smacked Dani on the back of her head. “You said there wasn’t much to tell! ‘Skinny little twig’, my ass! ‘Fuckable’ is more like it!”

“Shit, she’s right. And…” Sloane shook her head. “Ladies… Print.”

“What? Where?” Ange turned the phone back.

“I’d say… the usual spot,” Sloane said with a raised eyebrow.

“What is she even looking at?” Alex joined in, making the others – except Dani, who wasn’t sure, either – chuckle.

“The outline of his dick,” Anjelica deadpanned, “very clearly visible in these thirst-trappy grey sweats.” She even went through the trouble of zooming in on the area of interest, and Dani felt like she could just die of embarrassment.

“Can we… oh God, Ange, please… Give me my phone, please. Now.” She grabbed it quickly and put it away.

“For a year and a half I looked at Mike like a little brother, or a puppy, or maybe a bit of both, but now… I’m a changed woman.” Ange laughed, and the others soon followed. “Like, I knew he was cute, but… he’s so silly and… Okay, honestly? I always kinda expected Mike to be the guy who just goes ‘go go gadget cockring’ in the middle of sex somehow and…” Dani nearly spit her sip of wine over the table.

“Not with a cockring,” she giggled between fits of coughing. The others looked at her. “Okay, okay. Ehm. We were, well, here, in my room, last week or something and we were… busy, and he just went… Oh my god. Yeah, so… literally like you just… The inspector gadget thing, and he pulls out my eh…”

“It’s called a vibrator, Dani, we all have them,” Ange laughed.

“And if any of you don’t, I’m very sorry about that and I have plenty of recommendations,” Sol added.

“Alright, well, yeah. So. In conclusion: He’s exactly the type to do that, Ange.” Dani had never been happier that her phone screen lit up. “Oh, looks like the boys are mocking us.”

Everyone looked at the screen, which showed a pic of Mike, Sy and Leon – and beer – with the caption ‘talking about how big your tits are, Sweetcheeks’.

“Oh! Another one!” Ange yelled, sliding her phone to the center of the table, showing everyone a photo of August and Geralt on the couch together. Maybe the photo was more casual than the silly one from Mike, but the text accompanying it sure wasn’t… ‘Remember that some things are for your eyes only’.

“That’s vaguely threatening,” Alex said, her eyes wide.

“That’s outright threatening,” Ange laughed, “just the way I like it.” The whole comment added to Alex’ confusion.

“I remember a comment from last week about him slapping the shit out of you, but I have to say I’m a little confused, now, too,” Sloane said.

Judging from the look on her face, Ange hadn’t really expected to have to explain the dynamics of her sex life. That was honestly her mistake.

“Think ‘fifty shades’ but with more respect and less abuse,” she said shyly. “It’s… I just…” “Ange,” Dani interrupted, “you don’t have to explain a single thing if you want to. That said, I always kinda thought August was the ‘chains and whips’ type.”

“I can’t begin to tell you how right you are,” Ange laughed. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Do you mind the question ‘why’? Not in a ‘ew, why’ kind of way but more… I don’t really understand the appeal, so… Like if you don’t want to answer that’s fine, too,” Alex asked very softly.

“Oh, sweetheart!” Ange laughed. “It’s… For starters it’s fun. And it turns my brain off, like… Don’t get me wrong. I’m a strong, independent woman, all the way, and I like it. But it’s tough to always be on top of everything, and stressing about whether I’m doing it all well enough and stuff… It’s a lot of pressure. Self-imposed pressure, but still.” She absentmindedly stroked a bruise on her wrist.

“I mean, that I can understand,” Ariel said slowly, “but bruises…”

“Hm, I don’t know, I’m always pretty fond of those mornings when you get up and see ‘shit, he grabbed me for real last night’,” Sloane laughed. The look on Solveig’s face told everyone she agreed. “Elena, you’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Ehm… Let’s say I don’t like to be on the receiving end of whatever you can think of that would mark me up,” she said with a smug smile. “Now if Sherlock were to give me permission to suck on his neck until people will start asking questions… gladly.”

“Ooooooh,” everyone said in unison as they listened to her ‘confession’.

“Sherlock is in so much trouble,” Sol chuckled.

“I’d love to tie that man up and edge him for a while…” Elena mused. “But it’s going to take at least a few months before I’ll bring that up.”

Everyone laughed at that comment, Dani and Alex went to get more drinks – deciding it would be easier to just leave the bottles on the table, and Ange shifted in her seat, throwing a curious glance at Elena.

“Just out of my absolutely insatiable curiosity… Is he any good?” she asked.

“Almost surprisingly so,” Elena laughed. “The way he pays attention… It’s honestly remarkable.”

“Remarkable is not a sexy term, Elena,” Ariel said.

“Neither are ‘calculated’, ‘skilled’, ‘proficient’, ‘observant’, ‘rational’…” Sloane added. ‘

Elena laughed and shook her head. “They are to me,” she said, clearly amused, “besides. It’s Sherlock. What were you expecting? Hot, passionate, and animalistic?”

“Hm, Sy’s keywords,” Dani muttered without thinking. Everyone except Sloane and Ari looked at her.

“You… like… What?” Really, seeing Anjelica at a loss for words was incredible.

“You slept with Sy?” Sol clarified – unnecessary, but still appreciated.

“God, yeah. I went to some orientation party and he was there and he ended up coming back here and…” Dani made a vague gesture. “Can you imagine my surprise when I ran into him in the kitchen the morning after my first night with Mike?”

“And after Sy had been responsible for you almost biting Mike’s dick off,” Sloane added with a grin, “let’s not forget about that…”

“You what?” Ange and Sol yelled at the same time.

“Alright so, yeah. Me and Mike were getting it on in the shower and he… Oh God.” Dani downed what was left of her glass of wine and poured herself a new one. “There’s no pretty way to say this, so I’m going to Mike it and say whatever pops into my head, okay?” The others nodded, clearly eager to hear the rest of this story.

“Did you just use Mike’s name as a verb for doing things impulsively?” Elena asked. There was no judgement to her voice, just… observation.

“Yes,” Dani laughed, “anyway… I’m on my knees with a mouth – throat, even – full of cock, and Sy knocks on the door – which I’m still surprised didn’t break, by the way, he slammed it so fucking hard… - to tell us to y’know… Get out of the shower. Which startled me, because duh! And I accidentally kinda… closed my mouth. Which meant… Yeah, I almost bit Mike’s dick off, so…. There’s that.”

“Who’s better?” Ange asked without thinking.

“Oh, God, don’t make me answer that,” Dani whined, but the guilt-ridden voice said it all. “Shit. Okay, so Mike is great! I literally can’t explain how amazing sex with him is. It’s fun, and silly and he takes care of me and I really, really, really can’t stress enough that it’s wonderful!” It almost sounded like an apology. No, scratch that. It was an apology. “And I mean… I only slept with Sy once – well, unless you count that threesome and…” “Unless you count that what?” Sloane and Ari shouted. Dani looked back at them like a deer in headlights.

“I heard ‘threesome’,” Ange said to Sol, “did you hear the word ‘threesome’?” “Oh, I heard it too,” Sol added, followed by confirmations from Elena and Alex.

“You guys, please,” Dani pleaded, “I can’t…”

“Ehm, yeah you can. This is a safe space,” Ariel taunted sweetly.

“Ehm, maybe someone else can share something with the group. Like why you didn’t jump on Leon when you had the chance,” Dani retorted. “I’m not going to be the only one talking about my sex life, thanks.”

Now it was Ari’s turn to shyly look around the table in hope to find some support somewhere – she didn’t find any, just curious looks. “I… hate that man,” she sighed.

“Lies!” Anjelica interrupted. “You don’t make a face like that when thinking of someone you hate.”

“Is it just me or are we in dire need of popcorn?” Elena whispered to Alex, who laughed. Dani got up and walked towards the kitchen.

“Your wish is my command,” she laughed as she threw a bag of popcorn on the table.

“Fine!” Ariel said. “I kinda like him. Kinda. Maybe. But he’s a smug, arrogant piece of work and…”

“So are you?” Sol guessed.

Before Ariel could protest, Sloane and Dani both nodded. “Yeah, she is,” Dani said, before looking at Sloane in disbelief. “Oh, please, Slo! As if you’re not exactly the same!”

“I don’t nix a guy based on the fact that he tries to do better than me in class, and…”

“No, you just fuck one you like and then ditch him based on…” “The fact that he’s an insane womanizer with no respect for monogamy?”

“Since when do you respect monogamy?”

“Whoa, listen! I’m not monogamous, that doesn’t mean I don’t respect monogamy. I don’t go creeping around with guys – or girls, for that matter – who are in monogamous relationships! I. Don’t. Cheat.”

“Ladies, please!” Anjelica interrupted. “I appreciate that therapy is – finally – in session, but one at a time! We started with Ari. Let’s wrap that up first. What was his big crime that made you run?”

Ariel seemed to give up on the idea of avoiding these questions, and resigned to the third degree she knew she was about to get. “He wanted to go down on me,” she sighed. Everyone at the table stared at her with open mouths.

Solveig was the first to shake her head as if to clear her initial shock away and speak: “Terribly sorry to not understand, but that sounds like the exact opposite of a problem to me?”

“Well… There was this guy, in high school… He told me I…” Her voice trailed off and she stared at her hands as she fiddled with the stem of her wine glass.

“Smelled funny, tasted bad, looked weird,” Anjelica sighed as if she knew exactly what Ariel was talking about – and perhaps she did.

“Looked weird, yeah. So now I’d rather just… And it’s so fucking ridiculous, too!” Ariels previous insecurity rapidly turned into a rant. “Like I’m so sorry, but ninety percent of dicks aren’t exactly going to win a beauty pageant, either. But this idiot tells me I got a weird looking cooch and I’m insecure for years and years…”

“Tell me Leon was not such a complete cock to go as far as confirming that,” Ange said, shaking her head.

“No, no… Eh… Oh God,” Ari stammered, “I… His first crime was guessing what my problem was in one try, which I found fucking annoying. And then his response… His exact words were: Blindfold me. Like, completely unironically… He meant that shit.

“You’re joking?” Sloane said in disbelief. “And… You’re telling me a guy tells you that… That he’ll literally let you blindfold him so he can eat you out, and you ran. Girl I would have said: Grab the fucking blindfold, now let me sit on your face.”

“Oh, he would have loved that,” Ange chuckled, “Leon likes a woman in charge.”

“How the fuck do you know?” Alex blurted out.

“I know his ex,” Anjelica said simply. That surprised absolutely no one.

“You know everyone,” Sol huffed.

“Yes, and that includes Leon’s ex,” Ange retorted, sounding a little snippy. “The real question is indeed: why’d you run?”

Ariel thought about that for a while, leaning back in her chair. The expression on her face told the others that she didn’t exactly know the answer to that question, either. “I guess I got scared. I think I like him, but… He’s not exactly boyfriend-material, is he?”

“I think the real question is: Do you want a relationship where you’re constantly challenging each other?” Dani said. The others nodded in agreement.

Ariel let her head fall to the table. “Yes,” she muttered before looking up again. “It just sucks. Like… I want to make this man my bitch – which is a feeling I’m very much used to. But I also want to worship every inch of his body. And that’s very new to me and I don’t fucking like it!”

“You’ll get used to it,” Sol answered. “Geralt annoyed me so much when we first met! Now he still annoys me, but at least we get to hash it out in the sheets.”

Everyone laughed for a moment, and then one by one, everyone turned to Sloane.

“Alright, ladies. Those rumors are all true. Charles Brandon fucks like a god. I mean, he’s obviously logged the hours, so it would be a crime for him to be worse than he is, but he’s good…” “You went back for seconds,” Dani said, eyes wide. “He was drunk and had a sprained hand on New Year’s Eve, and you told me you’d done most of the work but that he was adequate. You…”

“Yeah, I went back. So what, I wanted him at full capacity, sue me!” She rolled her eyes and knocked back the rest of her drink. “Who cares if it’s ‘one million satisfied customers’ with that guy?”

“Clearly you don’t, or you would have used a condom that first time,” Ariel said, realizing too late that that information may have been a little too private. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Sloane laughed, “I got tested again, just to be sure. It was stupid, I was way too drunk to make good decisions…” “You must have wanted him bad, girl,” Alex chuckled, looking a little flustered from all they’ve been talking about.

“That’s the thing… I came there hoping to hook up with Sy, what with Dani’s review being so amazing. But he was taken, and Charles… He’s such a dick, and I’m notorious for thinking I can fix a man.” She shrugged. “He’s hot, he’s good in bed, his family is loaded.” “Way to sound like a gold digger, Slo,” Dani laughed, explaining quickly that the Price family wasn’t exactly strapped for cash, either.

“Oh, girl, do you ever go shopping with them,” Ange said as she pointed at Dani and Ariel, “and offer to buy them something, like, it won’t even make a dent in your budget, and they complain literally so much?”

“Oh my god! All the time!” Sloane rolled her eyes. “Like, please help me spend my allowance or next month’s purchase will have to be the upstairs apartment because I will need more space?”

“Spoiled bitches,” Dani muttered under her breath, unable to hide her laughter.

“Hi, yeah, we’re offering you a chance to be spoiled with us…” Ange replied, also laughing, while Sloane confirmed her words with a decisive nod. “Anyway… Forget about Charles. He hasn’t been in a relationship in years. He stopped dating after he wrecked the second or third relationship by stepping out on his girl…”

“I know… Somehow that level of introspection kinda makes me hot for him, too…” Sloane admitted reluctantly.

“Oh God, you’re horrible!” Ariel yelled in disbelief.

“Okay, I’m done. Next!” Sloane said. “Can we back to the saga of Dani and the threesome already?”

“Fine, I’ll talk. But everyone has to swear they won’t judge me,” Dani said softly and with a look of pure terror on her face.

“Judge you? Girl, please,” Sloane said, “I applaud you, at worst!” The others seemed to agree with that.

“Alright, alright. I went up to Mike’s room that night… it was the start of the vacation. Sy and Mike were playing video games. This was literally the first time I’d actually talked to Sy since that night after the party. Mike was antsy – as per usual – and we decided that getting stoned was a great idea. I get back to Mike’s room first, because I’m a lightweight when it comes to pot. They must have said something to each other, because when they got back, and we got comfy on the couch again, they kinda started… feeling me up and… Long story short, next thing I know it’s both of their faces between my thighs.”

“No. My. God.” Anjelica blurted out.

“Yep. That’s one area where Sy definitely wins out. That man gives incredible head.” Dani sighed deeply as she remembered the evening.

“But you didn’t take it further than that?” Sol asked in disbelief.

“Nope. I’m fairly sure the whole point was to teach Mike to eat pussy,” Dani said without thinking. “Shit. Eh… Wow, me and my big mouth.” “Did he pass the test?” Elena grinned. “And did it work?”

“Oh, he passed, alright. And yeah… It definitely worked.” Dani knew she couldn’t keep the grin off her face even if she tried, so she just didn’t try. “Now please, someone else tell me they’ve been in a situation like that, because I feel incredibly awkward about this.”

Sol and Ange shared a very suspicious look and a slight nod before Ange started to speak: "Not exactly like that, but… Sol, can you take this one, please?”

“Alright,” Sol laughed, “last year, I was visiting for a few weeks because the classes I was taking were taught online to begin with – our professor was in arctic Canada for research, so… Anyway – I’m here when the ski trip is happening. Geralt was trying to cancel, because he didn’t want to leave me behind, but Ange – the absolute angel – manages to get me a spot on the list, instead. Now. This wasn’t as last-minute as you might think, so this is all the guys’ fault, really…”

Ange took over: “Yeah. When you hear: ‘my girlfriend and your girlfriend are both coming on this trip’, you should immediately think: ‘how about we share a room so we can swap at night’. But they didn’t. So these idiots end up in different rooms, with uptight, single roommates. We were sharing a room though, because we came prepared. And…” “We wanted to sleep next to our guys, of course,” Sol continues, ignoring all the ‘uhuh’-s and eyerolls when she says ‘sleep’. “So they snuck into our room, and everything was fine.”

“Now, there’s a limit to what you can do together without alerting anyone else in the room with you, and…” Everyone else at the table looked at Sol and Ange, knowing exactly where this story is going.

“Sex is not one of those things?” Elena contributed with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk on her face.

“Very much not one of those things,” Sol confirmed. “And we were both just having a ‘if they’re doing it then so are we’-experience.”

“Right. I’m not listening to their sex noises while I’m chastely snuggling up to August, fuck that!” Ange laughed. “And we just tried to keep quiet until we reached a point where none of us cared anymore, like… We knew what they were doing, they knew what we were doing, so we just… No… let’s say ‘crossover’, either, in case you’re wondering – I fucking know you’re wondering.”

“Oh, I was wondering, for sure,” Ariel said, leaning in further to not miss a second of this story.

“The best part was,” Sol chuckled, “that the guys got competitive.” “Oh my God,” Elena muttered – seemingly involuntarily.

“And they already have more stamina than we can really handle, so… First, we get the best head ever, because of course neither of them wanted to be the guy to take the longest to make his girl cum, then they refuse to be the first to finish when they’re nailing us…” The memory made Ange laugh, with Sol joining in not much later. “I was so sore the next day.”

“Gods, tell me about it,” Sol said while rolling her eyes. “I think the only time it’s been worse was… The morning after I got here two weeks ago.”

“You showed me those bruises,” Anjelica chuckled. “Geralt means business.”

“We went six rounds without a break, Ange.” Everyone looked at Sol with an open mouth. Everyone except Anjelica.

“Do you think August will get competitive again if I tell him that?” she wondered out loud.

“Are you sure you’re willing to find out,” Sloane teased.

“God, no!” Ange laughed. “But this whole story does remind me… We need to talk about the ski trip.” She shot a meaningful look at Alex, who looked just about ready to dive under the table and not emerge again for the rest of the night.

“Before we even get into that,” Dani said, “we heard the melancholic doomsday summary from Marshall, but… What’s your version of events?”

Following that question, Alex seemed to become even more nervous.

“Come on, no need to be scared,” Elena said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, which seemed to calm her down a bit.

“Alright,” she finally sighed. “Marshall is my brother’s best friend, and when I was little, I was ‘the little sister’, but when I got older it turned into more of a friend-type situation… I don’t even really know at this point, anyway. Last Christmas, Marshall came home, my brother got delayed, so I figured Marshall wouldn’t even stop by, but he did – holding the bottle of Baileys we always steal from my parents’ party. So, we’re drinking, and somehow end up talking about how no guy has ever made me… y’know…”

“Wait, hold on,” Sloane interrupted, “no guy has ever made you cum?”

“Had, now, technically… But at that time, not once.” Alex nervously fidgeted with her hair. All the girls cried out in sheer outrage. “Yeah, yeah, how dare they, right? So, I make some lame joke – that really was just a joke – about how he should volunteer to change that, or something, expecting him to just laugh it off, but instead he kisses me and… Okay without going into any more unnecessary detail; we had sex. That’s it.”

“Yeah, but you did cum?” Elena asked, her eyes widening in surprise with a hint of pity when Alex burst into tears.

“It was so amazing,” she sobbed, “we were drunk, and it was a one-time thing, and it was my brother’s best friend and…” She took a deep breath. “That is the best sex I’ve ever had. A drunken one-night stand with my brother’s best friend.” Her cries became louder again, and tears rolled down her cheeks. “He… Okay TMI, but he’s huge, and, like… I was so sure it was going to hurt because it always does but…” She had to stop for a moment before she was able to speak again, because her words were barely audible through her sobbing anymore. “He was so sweet and calm and… then it didn’t… it didn’t hurt… And I really thought maybe we… we could be something but then… I showed up at the party a week later… and… he was going upstairs with… with her and… Oh God I’m pathetic.”

“Not at all, girl,” Dani said as she got up and wrapped her arms around Alex’ shoulders from behind her chair.

“Do you see why I brought her tonight?” Ange asked, folding her arms on the table, and looking at everyone with a serious expression – especially Dani and Elena. “I’m over this nonsense. He likes her, she likes him. He needs to get his head out of his ass, though.”

“He can go fuck himself after what he did!” Alex cried out.

“Okay, I would like to point out the one tiny little technical detail that he didn’t actually do anything wrong,” Elena interjected, leaving Dani, Sol, and Ange to look at her in disbelief. “He was a heartbroken, single guy, doing what heartbroken, single guys do: rebound. Besides, he couldn’t get it up.”

“He couldn’t get it what now?” Dani asked.

“Just this once, I know someone,” Elena said triumphantly. “And that someone is Mariela, Veronique’s best friend. She plays oboe in the orchestra. We talked. Nothing happened, because Marshall couldn’t get it up. And I’m not supposed to even know that, because she wasn’t even supposed to know that, so as far as you’re all concerned, nobody knows anything. Capiche?” They all nodded.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” Sloane interrupted carefully, “that you said something about sex always being painful?”

Alex’ eyes went wide. “Shit, eh… Well, yeah?”

“Do you have any idea why that might have been the case?” It was obvious that Sloane was in doctor-mode for this conversation.

“I… Oh my god, can we not talk about this?” Alex turned her eyes away from Sloane’s.

“Actually,” Sloane said softly, “I think it’s very important that you do talk about it. I’ve had my share of painful sex, and I know it’s not just the two of us, okay?”

“Well…” Alex took a deep breath. “I never really got all that excited… With the other guys, I mean. It’s going to sound so weird but it’s like… Like I was never really attracted to them? Romantically, absolutely! But not sexually. And then with Marshall… I’ve been wanting to jump his bones since I was sixteen years old. Because I… I know him. Is that weird? It’s totally weird!”

“No, it’s not,” Sloane said, still incredibly calm, bordering on professional. “It’s something quite commonly seen on the ace-spectrum. Demisexuality comes to mind, for instance. I’m not saying that has to be it for you, of course, but it might be worth looking into, if you want.”

“Be my encyclopedia for a second, would you?” Alex muttered, clearly confused.

“The shortest explanation would be that demisexual people don’t experience sexual attraction unless they have an emotional bond with another person,” Sloane explained, a worried look crossing her face when Alex went completely quiet. “Alex?”

“It has a name?” she whispered so softly the others barely heard her. “I’ve spent years thinking I was crazy because I didn’t want to fuck on the first date, and now it turns out it not only is a thing, but it has a fucking name?”

“You’re not crazy,” Anjelica said, reaching for Alex’ hand.

“And you’re hardly alone,” Elena said quietly. “What I’m about to say isn’t a secret, per se, but if you’d please treat it with a little discretion, that would be greatly appreciated.” “Sherlock is the same way?” Dani guessed with a grin.

“Right. I never said it wasn’t also glaringly obvious,” Elena said, returning the grin. “He mentioned it after we… God, that speech of his fucked with my vocabulary. Went all the way? Is that… Anyway, you know what I mean.” “When he dicked you down for the first time?” Dani offered, causing everyone to burst out in laughter.

“Hm, it was a lot of things, but not quite that,” Elena laughed – until she realized she had just voluntarily offered her sex life up for meticulous dissection. “Either way; he mentioned that he’d never felt any sexual attraction until well after we became good friends. Not until after he fell in love with me to begin with. I’m not trying to label him one thing or another, but… I just want you to know you’re not the only one who doesn’t want to bone everyone all the time.”

“That’s actually very helpful, thanks,” Alex hugged Elena.

“By the way, Dani,” Elena added after a few moments. “He mentioned not craving sex to the boys pretty much every time they tried to get him to hook up with someone. Mike called him weird.”

“I will add it to the ever growing list of reasons to smack him in the back of his head,” Dani vowed.

“Maybe you should buy a riding crop, instead,” Anjelica suggested with an evil smile.

“I’m sure he’d love to experiment with that,” Dani laughed, and the others soon followed. “So that’s definitely not happening.”

The conversation quickly developed into a silly game of Truth or Dare, and Dani was the first person who was brave enough to pick a Dare.

“I think Mike would appreciate a nice picture,” Ariel teased.

“I think Mike can turn to his OnlyFans subscriptions if he wants something to look at,” Dani said, crossing her arms and sinking into the couch she’d moved to.

“How am I both surprised and totally unsurprised that Mike pays for porn?” Anjelica wondered out loud. The others quickly agreed, while Dani looked at them a little mad.

“He has a porn budget,” she growled. “I’m dating a guy with a porn budget.”

“Financial responsibility,” Sol mused, “now that’s something I wouldn’t immediately associate with Mikey.” Now Dani couldn’t help but laugh, either.

“I’m a little hurt, honestly,” Dani whispered softly when she was done laughing.

“Which is why you’re going to send him that pic,” Sloane teased, while Ariel wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh, sweetie,” Ange addressed her concern, “he’s a guy. And on top of that: he’s Mike. I’ve seen him around you, he’s smitten! Please, don’t worry about the porn.”

Somehow, Angie’s words helped Dani feel slightly better about the situation, and she agreed to take the Dare – unfortunately forgetting that she was in the room with an Art History major who focused on photography.

“We’re doing this right, bitch,” she said, scowling at Dani’s (admittedly half-assed) slightly-too-much-cleavage-selfie. “I’ll take the pic with your phone, which is – as far as I’m concerned – already swearing in church, but we’re not… No. Mike deserves better than this, porn budget or not.”

She immediately started directing everyone to do whatever so she could get a decent picture, until…“Dani, come on, lose the shirt!”

Undressing in front of girls was hardly a new thing, even when the others were watching in various states of amusement as Ariel took charge of the situation. “Oh, no,” she said when Dani pulled her shirt over her head. “Go grab a bra that isn’t this unsightly t-shirt bra from the year 32BCE.”

“Better yet,” Sloane interrupted, “wear one of mine.”

“Those won’t fit me, genius,” Dani threw back, rolling her eyes as both of her friends bossed her around her own damn home.

“It’s for a picture, not a wedding gown fitting, Jesus,” Ariel laughed.

Dani tried to protest, but quickly stopped when she saw what Sloane handed her.

“Oh,” Anjelica said, “is that Agent Provocateur?”

“It is,” Sloane replied enthusiastically, looking at Angie as if she’d finally found her soulmate. It only got worse when Angie could actually name the specific model.

“August accidentally ripped one of those once,” she said before sighing deeply.

Meanwhile, Sloane looked as if she’d witnessed an actual murder. “That’s a very expensive mistake,” she growled, and Ange nodded.

“Very,” she said with a smile, “but it was worth it.”

About two hours, a few more drinks and a bunch of pictures later, everyone was busy trying to find their own clothes again.

“These are great, Ari!” Anjelica said as she looked through the pictures on her phone. “Oh, August is going to love this one.”

“If he doesn’t, you have my number,” Sloane said as she looked over Angie’s shoulder. “Do we have a reply from Mikey yet?”  

“I… Eh,” Dani stammered, telling the others she hadn’t exactly found the courage to hit ‘send’ yet.

“Come on, you look hot and you get to tease him a little,” Anjelica said, “I’ll vouch for him: That pic is going nowhere.”

“Okay but if it does, it’s my tits out and about,” Dani replied.

“Jesus, tell me you’ve never sent nudes before without telling me you’ve never sent nudes before,” Sloane laughed. “You can set it to view once.”

“Easy, you!” Ariel nudged Sloane with her elbow. “First of all, these are not nudes, thank you very much.” Sloane rolled her eyes at the remark, but Ariel continued: “And second of all, it’s a good thing she’s thinking about this.”

“Okay, he replied,” Dani said after the most nerve wracking five minutes of her life.

“Oh, show me!” Ange practically dove for her phone, making everyone on the couch squeal as she landed in their lap. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mikey… What an eloquent response…” She was right. A bunch of heart-eyed emojis wasn’t exactly a literary masterpiece, but they did make it abundantly clear that he’d liked the picture. Then, Ange – still holding Dani’s phone – started laughing. “Yes, Mikey, it would be a little horrible if you asked her to come over now,” she said. Dani noticed a little too late that she was recording a voice message.

“Oh my god, Ange, no!” she squealed as she tried to grab the phone, only succeeding after the third try. By then it was too late, Angie had already sent the message.

Ange, August wants to know if there are any pictures of you, too… Before you freak out, Dani No, I didn’t show them. They asked why I was grinning at my phone like an absolute moron.

Dani let out the breath she had been holding in as soon as that first text came in.

“Can we not give me a constant heart attack, please?” she begged the others.

“I’m so tempted to tell August to just have fun with the zillion clips he has of us,” Anjelica blurted out. “Shit, you didn’t hear that.”

“Oh, please, who doesn’t have a sex tape or two,” Sol replied.

“Most people, I think,” Alex laughed.

“God knows I do,” Sloane sighed, “I honestly don’t even know what happened to them…”

“Oh my god! Before we forget,” Ange said. Elena and Sol had already noticed that Ange could be a little all over the place when drunk. “We have to talk about that ski trip! I have an idea…”

“This whole ‘girls night’ thing has me somewhat scared,” Sherlock said as he stared at the glass of wine in his hands.

“Drink more, think less,” Mike said, leaning back on the couch and turning his attention back to the movie.

“Cheers to that.” August and Geralt raised their glasses, the others followed suit.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

alskdjfl I love them, do they have a name?? 🥺 🥺

A little bit of art for one of my dnd characters

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

I have a question for the fanfic writers among you: How do you treat your work in progress when a very similar story is put out there? Do you go on writing - in the spirit that everything is unique in its own way - or do you abandon the piece - in the spirit of preventing 'superfluous' contributions?

Let's add a further wrench into the process by saying the recently published work by another author, so similar to your own, seems so much better written than your own (granted we are always our own worst critics). Where do you go with that?

Maybe this is a question for readers, too. Do you mind reading similar works/story lines?

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Thank you so much! <3 I'm glad you liked it!

kdkdkdkdk SMALL TOWELS ARE THE WORST, like... I'm fat??? What am I going to do with a small towel? Dry my left tit and call it a day? BIG TOWELS ONLY.

Again; thank you for reading and this lovely comment! It means the world to me <3

Part 31 - The bathroom equation

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 30 -- Part 32

Summary: The guys (and girls) take to the group chats to discuss some serious issues

Warnings: Post contains generalizations. Please don't murder me for that.

Word count: Exactly 3k!!!!

**A/N: **SO! The guys joined me in the shower yesterday (not as sexy as it sounds, unfortunately) and as @geralts-yenn and I had had a discussion about what the house groupchat would look like (including very necessary shadow-group with just the girls, and a group chat with everyone who regularly spends time at that house...) this is what I came up with.

[The guys' chat is 179CS🏡, the girls are 179CS🧠🧠, and the everyone-group is 179CS Full🏡]

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @livisss @sillyrabbit81

@ellethespaceunicorn @ylva-syverson @poledancingdinos @thelastsock @wa-ni

@proud-aroace-beastie @totalwool

Mike:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Story2cats (@story2cats)

Sherlock: Great, she’s asking me what I’m laughing at.

August: If you value your life, don’t show her.

Sherlock: And if she steals his phone and sees it anyway? Xoxo Elena

Marshall: Paramedics or police?

Charles: Both.

August: Both.

Leon: Both.

Marshall: 👍🏻

Sherlock: They’ll never get here in time 😈

Mike: Nice knowing you, buddy ❤️

Elena: Dani, get your man in line.

Dani: What he do?

Elena: [video]

Ange: I mean…

Sol: He’s not… wrong…

Dani: He sent me that 🙊

Lexi: Is he okay?

Dani: Was he okay to begin with? 😂

Ange: Not that we know of…

Sy: Speaking of showers… We need rules.

Mike: Eh, why?

Sy: Because I was late for my date yesterday.

August: Which is our problem… how?

Leon: It’s not.

Charles: 👆🏻

Sy: In a house shared by eight guys there’s no excuse for a line for the bathroom!

Mike: Some of us have ✨girlfriends✨

Mike: You should try it sometime

Sy: 🦆🫵🏻 ❤️

Mike: Aww ❤️

Charles: He has a point, though.

Charles: Don’t appreciate getting yelled at for taking a shit in my own damn bathroom.

August: Not to mention the hair.

Sherlock: I don’t see the problem there? Just ask them to clean the drain when they’re done?

Leon: Spoken like a man who has never once in his life watched a woman clean a shower drain…

August: Good luck and farewell, Holmes

Sherlock: ?

Mike: Tears will be cried. Drains will be cleaned — by you.

Mike: Murder may be committed.

Sherlock: Surely, it can’t be that bad?

Geralt: No, he pretty much nailed it.

August: As much as I hate to admit it, the man is right.

Sy: So. New rules?

Leon: House meeting?

Mike: Sure. We’re all home, right?

Sy: Nope.

Mike: What? Why?

Sy: … sometimes when a date goes well, you end up staying over.

Sy: Are there other questions you need answered, bud?

Mike: I think I’m good…

Charles: Ladies, enough with the gossip

Leon: Right. Some of us have work to do.

Charles: Exactly

Sherlock: I highly doubt he was referring to you, Brandon.

Mike: Oooh, mad shade!!! xoxo Dani

Charles: Thanks. Sy, the complaint?

Sy: I had to wait in line to take a shower because the bathrooms were overrun by women.

Leon: Noted. The proposal?

Sy: I’m just pointing out the problem. Someone smarter than me can worry about the solution 🤷🏻‍♂️

Sherlock: Am I right to assume asking the girls to just… spend less time in the bathroom would result in murder, as well?

Sherlock: Never mind, Elena is nodding violently next to me right now.

Mike: What do you want us to do? Assign all the girls to one bathroom?

August: That might work, actually.

Leon: Doesn’t sound like a terrible idea.

Charles: Yes?

Mike: Wow, the one time I have a good idea, I don’t even realize it’s a good idea…

Mike: Wait, no.

Mike: I’m not permanently sharing a bathroom with seven of you because we sometimes have girls over.

August: Kid has a point.

Mike: I’m on a roll today! 😎

Sherlock: That leaves us with the question of how many women would have to be present to necessitate giving them their own bathroom, correct?

Marshall: If you desperately want to make it sound like math, then yes.

Sherlock: Not math. Logic.

Sherlock: And I find myself compelled to point out that I understand and enjoy logic.

August: Dealing with women is an aggravating experience, then, isn’t it?

Sherlock: Absolutely mystifying. But I’ve found that thus far the benefits outweigh the costs.

Mike: You know, for you… That’s actually kinda sweet 😂

Marshall: Romantic 👍🏻

Leon: Don’t tell her that…

Charles: Guys, seriously!

August: Right. Sol and Ange together never caused any problems.

Sherlock: Neither have any… liaisons of a fleeting nature

Mike: Hookups. You mean hookups.

Sherlock: You couldn’t pay me to say that.

Charles: Moot point. The average walk of shame happens before the shower.

Leon: It’s not like they stay for breakfast…

Leon: Beat me to it 😂🤜🏻

Charles: 🤛🏻

Geralt: The both of you are unbearable.

Geralt: August is right.

August: But…

Geralt: Sol and Ange don’t cause problems because Sol doesn’t take forever in the shower.

August: Right. But Angel is a nightmare, and so is Elena. Those two alone are enough to cause traffic.

Sherlock: Correct me if I’m wrong, but ‘Elena and Anjelica together, or either of those combined with any two others, or neither of them but a minimum of three others’ sounds like the kind of rule that will ensure we won’t even need it for the foreseeable future.

Sy: It also gives me a headache.

Mike: I don’t think I even understood enough of it to get a headache…

Sherlock: Minimum of 3, then ask me and Angie to not occupy both bathrooms at the same time. 🙄🙄🙄 Problem solved. You’re all still in trouble for even talking about this ❤️❤️❤️

Ange: They’re giving us what now???

Elena: Bathroom rules…

Dani: Tell me you’re kidding 🙃🙃

Elena: Dead fucking serious 🙄

Sol: Why?

Elena: Apparently 🙄🙄🙄🙄

Elena: We caused a traffic jam last night and made Sy late for his date???

Elena: Fairly sure Alicia didn’t mind because he’s still over there 🙄🙄🙄

Ange: What are the rules?

Elena: I don’t know. I’m glaring at Sherlock from a distance now.

Elena: I’m pleased to report he looks terrified every time I do 😈😈

Elena: They’re considering a girls’ bathroom.

Ange: I’m considering permanent occupation of all bathrooms.

Elena: Your boy called us both nightmares, by the way 😇😇

Elena: Apparently we take too long to shower, idk

Sol: You both take your time, sure…

Elena: Okay, fine. But he doesn’t have to point that out 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Ange: Funeral invitations to follow…

Ange: No but seriously

Ange: He thinks I take too long in the shower?

Ange: Fine!

Ange: I’ll take shorter showers!

Dani: He really said that? 💀

Ange: Let’s see how he feels about that in a week or two.

Ange: Enjoy flossing, August 🙃🙄

Dani: 👀👀 [the agonizing scream you just heard was brought to you by me spitting my drink over Mike’s keyboard]

Lexi: 🙊 Mike and keyboard both okay?

Dani: Keyboard fine, Mike hyperventilating. He’ll be alright, back to you Ange.

Ange: I might have to rescind this attitude…

Ange: As much as I want to get back at him for this, I don’t want him to run…

Sol: You really think he’d care? Ange… he loves you…

Ange: Not that much…

Lexi: Girl, please?? Have you seen the way that man looks at you?

Ange: … He’s never seen me, like… untweezed and unshaved and whatever

Dani: Never?

Ange: Never ever ever.

Sol: 👀👀

Sol: But why?? I only shave when I feel like it – which is almost never – and Geralt has never said anything??

Ange: Girl, you’re a blonde 👀👀

Ange: I don’t wax this stache, 2 weeks from now you’ll be confusing me for August. I swear.

Lexi: Okay there’s literally no way that’s true.

Dani: And even if it was, he’d still love you.

Ange: Yeah but I’m not about to find out, thanks.

Lexi: It’s your body, obviously

Elena: Do what feels comfortable

Dani: But if you do ever miss a day and he does say something nasty…

Elena: I’ll grab the shovels 😇😇

Leon: Ladies and gentlemen — mostly ladies. A little PSA regarding an update in the house rules at 179th Crescent Street. It was recently brought to my/our attention that the addition of a number of regular overnight guests has created a somewhat unmanageable situation in the realm of bathroom use. Therefore, the new policy is as follows: When three or more of the girlfriends are staying over, the upstairs bathroom is all yours! Management is currently unavailable for negotiation.

Charles: TLDR: take your long-ass showers on the second floor. Please.

Ange: This message was deleted.

August: I saw that.

Elena: Oh, I’ll say it with my chest

Elena: You all suck.

Sherlock: No…

Mike: Whatever you do, man, don’t finish that thought 😂

Sherlock: I think they got the message regardless.

Ange: Oh, we got it alright…

Dani: You’re lucky you’re cute, Sherlock 🙄

Mike: Hey!

Lexi: I’m so sorry to say this but… Over my cold, dead body am I walking up a flight of stairs in the middle of the night to pee.

Charles: @Leon Told you the ‘not up for negotiation’ thing wasn’t going to work.

Leon: It was worth a try.

Geralt: We’re not banning anyone from the house for using the ‘wrong’ bathroom

Sol: Then why the pointless rule?

Sy: Because yesterday BOTH bathrooms were occupied for well over two hours!!!

Sy: Seriously, what do you do in there?

Mike: Elaborate satanic rituals?

Sol: Occasionally.

Ange: Let’s see… Do we actually enlighten them?

Mike: Please do, I’m curious now…

Charles: I know what happens when I’m also in the shower… 😏

Ange removed Charles

Ange: Any other takers?

August: Angel…

Ange: Don’t tell me I’m overreacting!

August: I didn’t say a word 😑

Ange added Charles

Ange: Behave.

Charles: 🤐

Elena: Good boy.

Leon: Do you say that to Sherlock, too? 😏

Ange removed Leon

Marshall: Jesus, Ange…

Ange: Ugh, fine.

Ange added Leon

Mike: Seriously, girls… Other than summoning the occasional demon — what are you doing in there?

Sol: I’m gonna let Elena and Angie handle this one…

Ange: Alright. So first I check if I have all 4059834 items I’m going to need. Then at some point you’ll have to get naked, unfortunately…

Dani: Look at everything you hate about yourself for a solid 5 minutes until you’re nice and depressed

Elena: Didn’t come here to be called out like this, but thanks 🙄🙄

Sol: Poke your boobs and watch them jiggle because it’s funny until you’re less depressed

Mike: Getting jealous…

Ange: Then you turn on the shower and wait for the water to warm up

Lexi: To those ungodly temperatures from the pits of hell, you know? 👀👀

Mike: I’m not apologizing for that video, just so you know.

Lexi: That’s actually useful time to make sure you find the right playlist ✨✨

Sy: YOU DON’T NEED A PLAYLIST FOR A SHOWER

Lexi: Hard disagree

Elena: Yes, we do.

Sol: … Am I supposed to listen to my own thoughts in the shower?

Ange: I’d never be able to suppress my homicidal tendencies ever again, holy shit…

Dani: Then we actually get in the shower and warm up because the bathroom is cold, just like our souls.

Marshall: I’m genuinely learning more than I’ve ever wanted to know…

Mike: This is already taking longer than my whole entire shower…

Ange: And we’re not even close to being done.

Elena: @Ange Especially us…

Leon: Okay, fine, I’ll bite… Why is it different for the two of you?

Sol: Because they have curls?

Charles: That makes a difference?

Sy: So?

Mike: Why does THAT matter?

Marshall: Is that… important??

Elena: You’re all so clueless, it’s almost cute 🥺

Ange: @Marshall you actually might want to pay attention to this…

Ange: Alright. By the time I’m warm, my hair is usually wet all the way through

Ange: Massively heavy, by the way.

Ange: It’s hair-washing time! Which, idk about @Elena, but I have to do this in at least 4 sections if I don’t want to miss half of it.

Elena: I can get by with 2, but 4 is better.

Elena: Of course, 9/10 times I fucking forgot to section it before getting in the shower.

Ange: Obviously. So now you’re wrangling your wet hair into submission

Elena: Which is damn near impossible.

Ange: Exactly. But when that’s finally done, you can get to washing it.

Elena: And rinsing it until there’s absolutely no way there’s still any shampoo left.

Ange: Which takes a long ass time, BTW.

Ange: Then it’s ✨deep conditioner✨ time!!! Like… it’s always deepco time. I don’t even use regular conditioner anymore because my hair thinks it’s pointless. So like. That.

Elena: Mood.

Ange: And that stuff needs to sit in your hair for like 15-30 minutes

Mike: That’s like… 3 whole showers…

Charles: I don’t even spend this kind of time on my schoolwork 👀

Geralt: That’s not something to be proud of.

Sherlock: Imagine what you could do if you did.

Ange: Either way, it’s okay, because next… We exfoliate.

August: For those who haven’t been keeping count, we’re on step 12 or something. Jesus.

Charles: @Leon what the damn hell does our water bill look like?

Sol: Pay attention! Exfoliate! Then shave. Which, when you’re 6 feet tall in the showers here… damn near impossible, by the way.

Elena: (Cut yourself at least twice no matter how long you’ve been doing it…)

Lexi: Ohh! Cubicle yoga while holding a razor!!!

Dani: And while wet and slippery…

Ange: We’re superhuman 💃🏻

Sy: You’re nuts is what you are. All of you!

Dani: Anyway, when we reach baby dolphin status…

Dani: Which doesn’t happen until we’ve checked at least three times if we haven’t missed any spots…

Dani: I personally squeeze in brushing my teeth and skincare before rinsing my conditioner.

Elena: 👆🏻

Ange: Same! If I’m paying like 30 dollars for a hair mask that’ll barely last me two weeks, I’m gonna at least spend some time with it 👀✨

Sol: So that’s teeth and face wash in the shower. Then rinse that conditioner.

Ange: Which — again — takes a while if you have curly and/or a lot of hair.

Ange: Also, before I rinse my hair, I spend an ungodly amount of time detangling it with my fingers, which I have to do while the mask/conditioner is in. So…

Marshall: And at this point you’re finally nearly done, right?

Sherlock: … please, for the love of God, let it almost be over!

Ange: Oh, my precious little babies ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Lexi: At this point we’re slowly considering getting out of the shower, yes.

Dani: But the rest of the bathroom is cold, so we take our time gathering the courage to get out.

Leon: 🤦🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♂️

Sherlock: The entire bathroom is hot enough to steam salmon at this point!

Mike: And yet, they manage to emerge from Mordor absolutely freezing…

Sol: When we do finally manage to make it out, we wrap ourselves in the biggest towel we can find…

Ange: By the way, ladies, you can thank me and Sol for the presence of the big towels in this house.

Sol: Oh GOD I remember the first shower I ever took here.

Geralt: The towels were fine.

Sol: …………. Geralt, I love and respect you, but you’re wrong and also stupid. ❤️

Ange: You’ll pay for that…

Sol: Looking forward to it 😈😈

Mike: Please continue…

Dani: We’re left with the rest of our skincare. So; toner, 1-3 serums, moisturizer. Sunscreen or oil, for me, depending on the time of day.

Ange: But the mirror is fogged up from the shower, so you have to deal with that…

Leon: YOU KNOW WHERE YOUR FACE IS, DON’T YOU?

Ange: Yes, but it’s also very pretty so I wanna look at it. Thanks.

Lexi: How can I meticulously study all the imperfections in my skin if I can’t see my face???

Dani: Exactly! (To both of those things, simultaneously)

Dani: So, after that, it’s time to moisturize everything you’ve exfoliated and/or shaved.

Elena: Which is… pretty much everything.

Sol: Cue deep sigh because this is where you find out you actually did miss a spot somewhere.

Ange: And then it’s back to the hair for the curly girls!

Elena: Leave in ❤️❤️❤️

Marshall: What?

Sy: ??

Mike: Wut?

Ange: It’s like conditioner, but you don’t rinse it out.

Sherlock: @Elena the stuff that smells good?

Elena: Yes 😂😂😂

Dani: Which reminds me; @Elena, is that your Quench in the bathroom or mine? I can’t remember…

Elena: Oh, God, me neither…

August: Settle this in the shadow group, ladies.

Lexi: You know about that, huh? 😂

Dani: Shit, they figured it out…

Sol: Not surprised… They’re not completely clueless…

Ange: Just mostly…

August: Thanks. Enough of that.

Ange: Okay daddy 🥺❤️❤️

August: 🙄

Ange: Anyway. After the leave-in and maybe two or three other products, I wrap my hair up in my hair-towel — or hair-tshirt.

Charles: Another towel? Why in the fuck?

Ange: Boys. I understand that you don’t give a fuck about this, but…

Ange: Regular towels are actually not good for your hair.

Elena: 👆🏻👆🏻👆🏻

Lexi: Besides… You can’t dry long hair and your body with 1 towel…

Sol: What she said.

Sol: What they both said, actually.

Leon: Are we finally at the end of all of this?

Leon: I’ve literally never been more glad to not have a girlfriend, jesus fucking christ…

Dani: Yeah, pretty much… You get dressed, dreading the cold of the hallway, and then we quickly go find a boy to snuggle up to who can then tell us we smell nice and are very soft, so we can convince ourselves we didn’t just spend an unholy amount of time doing all of that for absolutely nothing.

August: All of this is… insane.

Ange: Hey! I can stop doing half of this, if you think it’s so unnecessary 🙄🙄

Elena: Now that I think about it… It wouldn’t even save any time, because you still need to let the conditioner sit, so…

Charles: Right, ladies, this was very interesting…

Charles: I’m going to take a shower now.

Charles: Talk to you in about… 10 minutes 🙄

Sy: Remind me to never ask any of you any questions literally ever again…

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 24

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 23 🟣 Part 25

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Fluff, ongoing vampire shenanigans, mentions of drug abuse, addiction, tragic backstory, August's completely unwarranted hatred of jellybeans.

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: Family trip!!!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red

@sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie

@plaidcat4815 @wa-ni @lovemusicpart2

“Tell me something,” you whispered to Mike, who was sitting in the way too comfortable chair next to you, reclining the seat — probably without feeling any guilt towards Marshall and Sherlock, who were sitting behind him. They had plenty of leg room left. “How are we flying first class right now?”

“August refuses to fly coach,” Marshall answered that question for Mike. The answer didn't surprise you. Like, at all.

“It’s not like we can't afford it,” August snapped from the seat in front of you. The one next to him was empty.

“Charles would be proud of you,” Mike taunted. You didn't see the smack that followed, but you heard Mike's pained grunt all too clearly.

“Please don't break him,” you laughed. Mike snuggled into your side, glaring at the seat in front of him and kicking it for good measure. “And you can stop this tantrum right now, or sit next to August.” It was a good thing he was so damn cute.

“He's not wrong, though,” Sherlock pointed out, a hint of amusement to his voice. “Charles is the only other member of our family with the same insistence on certain levels of luxury.”

“Do I count as a member of your family?” you chuckled. All of your guys looked at you as if you'd gone crazy. And it was a silly question; of course you were a member of the family. “Because I think I might just be learning to appreciate those standards.”

“And exactly how expensive are dates going to get now?” Mike asked with a smile. “Because… Just because they are all fucking loaded, doesn't mean I have unlimited access to those funds…”

“Mostly because an ungodly amount would be spent on Jelly Beans, and an even more ridiculous amount would be spent on videogames,” August sneered. Mike just shrugged — he could hardly deny it; the fact that your arrangement meant Mike didn't need his mountains of Jelly Beans anymore, hadn't exactly meant he wasn't still eating plenty of them, much to August's chagrin.

“August, just because you live a boring, joyless, Jelly Beanless life, doesn't mean I have to,” Mike sighed.

“How long has this been going on?” You asked Marshall and Sherlock.

“I'd say since the invention of the Jelly Bean,” Sherlock said, “but Mike wasn't around back then. I believe that happened somewhere in the late eighteen hundreds…”

“As long as Mike has been around, then?” you asked, not wanting to ask them too many invasive questions such as ‘how in the hell do you know when the Jelly Bean was invented?’

“At least for as long as they've known each other,” Marshall answered, explaining that that hadn't happened until about thirty years ago. Still, that was a long time to have a whole feud over candy, you pointed out.

“It's a long time to be addicted to candy,” August growled.

“Eh, I guess an “addiction" to Jelly Beans beats all of those other addictions I had,” Mike shrugged. “Oh…” His cheeks flushed when he saw the troubled look on your face. “I guess I never told you…”

“Much of anything, Mike,” you said softly.

“It's not the best story.” He tried to shrug it off, but you could tell something was bothering him. “It's, eh… It's not exactly a version of me I want you to know about, either.” He looked at you, the sadness in his eyes becoming more and more pronounced as time went by, and it took some serious effort to convince him you loved him for the man he was now, not who he was forty years ago.

“Alright, fine,” he sighed. “What do you know? So I know where to start…”

“That Marshall ran into you in the eighties and that you were hanging out with a bunch of goths and goth-adjacent figures,” you summed up quickly, eager to get to the rest of the story.

“Alright, well… What’s important is that you know we're talking about Berlin in the eighties. My dad got a job there, so we moved from here to Berlin when I was six or something. That went well for a few years, and then my dad died when I was fourteen. I didn't think much of it at the time, but over the years… Something about it doesn't check out, and I honestly wouldn't be surprised if my mom killed him because he had an affair with his secretary, but whatever. Water under the bridge, I guess.”

“Mike! The fuck?” He said it so casually…

“Sweetcheeks, it doesn't matter, okay? Dad was gone, mom worked all the time to keep a roof over our heads, and I became completely unbearable—”

“And that never went away,” August said. You could tell he was smiling.

“Hey, thanks!” Mike replied, rolling his eyes. “Anyway. I'm a completely unmanageable teen at this point, and Berlin in the eighties was not the place for that. Like, it goes wrong shockingly quickly. I think I was sixteen when it really started going south.  Like I said; Berlin in the eighties was something else.”

“There were two things the government couldn't exactly get a handle on,” Marshall interjected. “One was vampirism, the other heroin. The two went hand in hand, more or less.” He looked down at his hands, clearly not at ease.

You had just decided not to press the matter when Sherlock offered an explanation. “Junkies were… not simply easy targets, although it would be hard to deny that they were.” It actually took you a while to notice that Sherlock and Mike had switched place, and that while you were looking straight at Sherlock, who was now sitting next to you. “Back in the day, addicts and vampires were connected by the mutual illegitimacy of their existences — although the vampires naturally had several advantages over humans from marginalized communities—”

“Anyway,” Mike cleared his throat and appeared next to you again. “The thing about a junkie is that they'll do pretty much anything for a fix. Including volunteering to feed vampires in exchange for some cash. Now, those were not the people you've heard us talking about up until now…”

Apparently, the goths you'd heard about had been the ones who took Mike in, the ones who tried to get him clean. “And they succeeded,” Mike said with an apologetic grin on his face. “Several times, even. My mom had stopped caring at that point, and then when I was nineteen — a few weeks before Julia, my ex, ran into Marshall — mom died, too…”

“He found out what I was not much later,” Marshall said.

“How?”

“I walked in on them, after Julia and I broke up, except I didn't walk in on what I at first expected to be walking in on, if you catch my drift.”

“Went about as well as you'd expect from the guy who's pretty much okay with everything,” Marshall laughed. “We did really well for a few years.”

“We'll spare you the lengthy, boring part with all the domestic bliss,” Mike swooped in before Marshall could elaborate. “When I was… twenty-two? Fairly sure I was twenty-two, yeah… Anyway, I met a girl—”

“Of course you did,” you blurted out before you could help it, immediately looking up at Mike with what must have been the guiltiest look of your entire life so far on your face.

“I don't blame you for that. Anyway… She was in trouble — the kind of trouble I'd been out of for years, at that point, and I thought I could be to her what Julia and Iris had been for me, but—”

“You relapsed?” you tried. Right on the money.

“Yep… Even years later, Hedwig — that was her name — pulled me right back under. Wasn't her fault, of course. It's not like she put a gun to my head and forced me to stick a needle in my arm or anything. Can't even say it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't met her. Anyway, the point is; it happened… Not a great time. I—” He nervously fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “I’m happy to tell you the rest, but… later?”

You took his skittish look at the other passengers to mean he’d prefer a more private setting. Deal.

A left turn and the change from smooth asphalt to crunching gravel beneath the tires of the car startled you enough to let out a loud, disapproving hum and lift your head. You hadn’t been asleep, per se, but definitely dozing off a little, your head resting comfortably on Marshall’s shoulder. Mike’s hand was on your thigh, eerily — vampirically — still ever since you’d asked him for the third time if he could stop moving it because it tickled. He enjoyed tickling you, you were not a fan.

“We’re here, princess,” August said from the front seat, and you leaned over to look out the window, seeing nothing but forest, forest and more forest.

“We’re where?” you asked, surprised at the absence of the house you’d expected to see.

“The estate,” Marshall noted calmly. And exactly how big was this estate? “Big enough.”

“Charles likes his privacy,” Mike noted. His fingers were tapping a gentle rhythm on your knee now, and his legs restlessly bounced up and down with excitement. “You’ll love this place!”

The car finally pulled into something that actually looked like a driveway — that is to say, it was the same gravel, the same road, but you could finally see that there was a house attached to it. Mansion. Villa. Actually it was closer to something resembling a small castle, but this wasn’t Europe, so…

“Charles also likes extravagance,” August snarled his answer to your unasked question.

“I can see that,” you muttered breathlessly as you followed Mike out of the car when it came to a halt in front of the stairs that led to a pretty grand front door. “Where is Sherlock?”

“Right here, darling,” he called from the top of the steps, where August was also already standing — holding both of your suitcases and your backpack.

“Wait, how did the three of you travel so… light?” And how had it not occurred to you to ask that question before now?

“We have everything we need here,” August explained. “Mike, get her up here!”

One of the heavy wooden doors opened the second Mike put you down, and a small woman stumbled through it. She was a little older than you, with long, black hair down to her waist, and she looked absolutely exhausted.

“Priya!” Sherlock said, grasping her elbow to steady her. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Holmes,” she replied before turning to you and reaching out her hand. “Hi, I’m Priya. I’m—”

“Dinner.” Oh, for the love of god, why did you have to snap at her? You didn’t even know the woman, but the thought of her feeding your vampires was entirely too much. “Sorry! I—”

“I get it,” she chuckled. “My sister, Nalini, has your… talent. She’s protective of her family as well. And you’re not wrong, just a bit impolite.” You deserved that.

“I don’t know what came over me,” you said. “I’m so sorry.” Not to mention how rude you would have been if you had been wrong… What if this woman hadn’t even had any idea she was visiting vampires?

“Are you sure you’re okay, Priya?” Mike asked, his brow furrowed, and his voice concerned.

“I’m alright, guys,” she laughed — but it took a lot of effort to do so. “I’ve been sick before, I always survived.” With the back of her hand, she wiped the sheen of sweat from her brow, and you noticed an intricate reddish design on her palms. She caught you as you tried to get a better look. “From my eldest sister’s wedding,” she said. “I can show you pictures later this week, but I really have to go. The sooner I get home, the sooner I can start sleeping off this cold, or whatever it is.”

“Please let us know when you get home,” Sherlock said as he walked her to the cab you’d just stepped out of.

“That was unnecessarily rude, princess,” August snapped when the car drove off.

“I said I was sorry,” you muttered quietly, not daring to look August in the eye. “I… You’ve all known her for a while, haven’t you?”

“She’s been coming here for years. About a year before Sherlock and Mike moved away,” Marshall explained. “Now, what’s really bothering you about this?”

“I thought you’d never been in this kind of… arrangement before,” you muttered, also avoiding Walter’s eyes.

“And we haven’t. You heard her; she’s not like you.” Marshall ushered you into the hallway, where the others were already waiting. The sound of the door falling shut behind you made you jump. “Charles was willing to pay a small fortune to drive her out here. Once a month, just as usual. And all the rules of the Bank still applied, just as usual. So, if you’re worried for so much as a second that you’re not special to us, you can stop that now.”

“Did she say she would be back later this week?” you asked softly. Part of you hated the thought of anyone but you feeding your vampires — even the ones you hadn’t met yet…

“She’s a friend of the family, not just… dinner.” The unfamiliar voice behind you startled you more than the closing door had, and you spun around as quickly as you could — but not quicker than the owner of the voice, who had apparently already walked around you, and was now standing behind you. “Would you stand still and let me do the moving, please?”

Two hands descended on your shoulders and gently turned you around, so that you were now face to face with the ‘new’ vampire. He was handsome, his face all angles and edges, with kind eyes and a charming smile. Judging from the sour look on August’s face, this had to be Charles.

“Charles Brandon, pleasure to meet you,” he said softly as he took your hand in his and shook it briefly. Perhaps too briefly? The charm of his smile almost made you overlook the sadness behind those kind blue eyes. Almost.

Next to you, Mike was swaying back and forth on his feet, waiting for introductions to come to an end so he could— Before Charles had even fully let go of your hand, Mike lunged forward to hug the man. “Alright, kid,” Charles laughed, “you’re home. It’s okay.”

“Where’s…” Mike asked as he let go so the others could subject Charles to similar treatment of warm ‘glad to be back’-hugs. Of course, the one between August and Charles was short and tense, but other than that, it was a perfect display of warm familiarity.

“Right behind you,” another unfamiliar voice spoke. This time, you didn’t bother to turn around — a wise call, as a split second later, another man appeared before you.

“Melot,” he said as he reached for your hand, raising it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. For some reason, it made your heart skip a beat. Melot looked much younger than Charles, or any of the others — younger than Mike, even — and you were fairly sure it didn’t have much to do with the dark, shoulder-length curls that framed his face. “I’m glad you’re finally here.”

“He’d ask you how your trip was, but… he already knows,” Charles noted, adding to your confusion. “I see she hasn’t been told much about him? Does the same apply to me?”

“She knows enough,” August growled, followed by a grunt as Marshall kicked him in the shins.

“August, that’s enough, go to your room!” Sherlock snapped. It was absolutely hilarious to hear those words from him, but what really had you in stitches was the fact that he actually walked away — presumably to the aforementioned room.

You only stopped laughing when Mike gently nudged your side with his elbow, at which point you looked at the others in the hallway, who were all looking at Sherlock in bewilderment. After a strange, tense silence that lasted far too long, August joined you again.

“Would someone fucking explain to me why he got to do that, here?” he sneered.

Melot chuckled softly. “It would seem that our hierarchy changed with the coming of our queen.”

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying it!

(I can add you to the taglist if you want?)

Part 23

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 22 🟣 Part 24

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Fluff, ongoing vampire shenanigans, a little ace-angst...

Word count: 2k

A/N: More vampire feels for everyone!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie @plaidcat4815 @wa-ni (Fucking dumblr won't let me tag y'all)

“Darling, can you come to the kitchen for a moment?” Sherlock asked calmly. You rounded the corner and looked at them suspiciously — the way they were all sitting around the kitchen table with serious looks on their faces made the whole thing… just kind of sus.

“Did someone die?” you asked as you joined them at the table. This was not a nice way to spend your time after the lovely shower you’d just taken.

“Oh, no! Nothing of the sort,” Sherlock reassured you. That was comforting, at least.

“We just wanted to ask you…” August started, only to be interrupted by a very excited Mike.

“We want to take a little trip!”

“In fact,” Sherlock clarified, “we would love for you to spend the summer with us… with our family.”

“You mean,” you replied slowly, “I’d get to meet the others?”

“Yes,” August answered. “There’s only two of them, no worries.” You had been wondering how big their coven was, and it was nice to hear there weren’t too many introductions to be made.

“And one of them would be Charles, correct?” It was more or less a guess, but an educated one.

“Yes. There’s a chance my brother will show up — it is quite a nice house we have…”

“Then why live here?” If they had a nice house somewhere, then why did they share this apartment?

“Sherlock moved here to teach, Mike moved here to go to college,” Marshall answered.

Mike interrupted again: “Marshall missed me too much.” You raised your eyebrows and rolled your eyes, but Marshall chuckled and shook his head.

“He’s not lying,” he said. “It took me nearly a century to be able to live apart from Sherlock. What Mike neglects to mention is that he missed me, too.”

“Did not!” Mike faux-protested. “I only called him up on the verge of crying three or four times a week!”

“At the risk of sounding completely insensitive… What? Why?” you wondered.

“We suspect it’s a way to protect new vampires, and people,” Sherlock explained. “The very young ones can be unpredictable. It’s not as much of a problem these days; there are special feeding programs for juveniles — they feed more often for the first year or so… Anyway, before feeding became legal the way it is now, it was important that youngsters learned to… well, to be quite frank about it, they had to learn to not kill everyone they bit.”

“A hungry young vampire left unattended can — and will — kill a grown man in about three minutes,” August helpfully added. “Supervision was very necessary.”

“Especially during those times when secrecy was of utmost importance,” Sherlock continued. “One wrong move… It can be tricky to gain full control over the new levels of strength and speed.”

“Not to mention those damn fangs,” Mike noted. “Just getting the bite right is tricky in the beginning.”

“You don’t just… bite?” you asked.

“When we’re close to you, princess,” August said with a strange smirk, “we can feel every vein in your body.” Did that have to sound so… ominous? “That’s the easy part. The hard part is aiming. It makes sense to have someone teach you.”

“Most of us feed exclusively on their… let’s say ‘mentor’, for the first six months,” Marshall added. “Then, by the time they move on to human blood, they’ll have something resembling restraint. Usually.” He glared at Mike.

“Okay, my first human was not a success, but…”

“It was a disaster, Mike,” Marshall said, rolling his eyes.

“He didn’t… you didn’t… right?” You could only hope they understood what you were trying to ask.

“No, she was fine. But it was a bloodbath,” Marshall grumbled. “A waste of perfectly good food.”

“Says the one with the knife kink…” you blurted out.

“I wouldn’t have dreamed of wasting a drop of blood back then. Remember that feeding was mostly illegal during that time,” Marshall reminded you. “I almost lost a very willing volunteer that night.”

“How did that conversation even go? ‘Hello, would you mind if my intern performed the procedure today?’” Everyone laughed.

“Something like that,” Marshall said eventually. “I told Manu — her name was Manuela — I had a friend, someone like me… She jumped at the chance to be his first human.”

“She was great,” Mike remembered. “Very solid about the pain…”

“She got off on the pain, genius,” Marshall laughed.

“I know that,” Mike sighed. “But even then. Stop making me look like an idiot, I know you know what I mean!”

“The difference between enjoying the bite and enjoying the aftermath of the bite,” August guessed — and judging from the looks on Mike and Marshall’s faces, he was correct.

“Sherlock?” He was gone. Suddenly. Not that that was so strange for him — you knew what he could do — but to leave like that, without warning?

“He’s in his room,” the guys said at the same time.

Of course, you were the last one to reach the door — but the first one to knock.

“Come in,” Sherlock said reluctantly, and you opened his bedroom door. “I’m sorry I disappeared.”

“What’s going on?” you asked, sitting down on his bed, and reaching for him in a silent plea for him to join you. He did, wrapping an arm around your shoulders almost painfully tightly.

“I remember this time so very differently,” he whispered. “Many… volunteers, back in the day, were exactly as they describe. But many weren’t simply in it for the pain…”

“I mean, of course there was a sexual edge to it for many of them, but…” Mike’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Right. Shit…”

“It was particularly difficult to find volunteers willing to forego the…”

“Boinking,” Mike suggested.

Sherlock looked up at him. “You can’t possibly think that would have been my choice of words, Mike.”

“Fine, amorous congress, better?”

“Marginally,” Sherlock chuckled. “Even the ones who seemed content with such an arrangement at first often became bored with the lack of…”

“Boinking,” Mike said again. “Ow! Joke, people. Joke!” He rubbed the back of his head, where August had hit him.

“What did you do?” you asked, both concerned and curious.

“I had to eat,” he answered plainly. “There weren’t too many options. Telling people what I was, was dangerous enough in and of itself. I simply viewed the” — his eyes shot up to look at Mike for a second — “intercourse as payment for the service rendered. I should add that, during this phase of my life, I was far more repulsed by the concept of sexual activity than I am now.”

“That… changes?” you asked carefully.

“There is some fluidity to it, yes,” he replied quietly. “Completely involuntary and ungovernable, of course.” He sighed. “So far, the height of my interest in physical relations has been the willingness to please a trusted romantic partner. Which is not a state in which I find myself at this current time — regrettably, I might add. I’m sorry.”

Was he apologizing? “You are not apologizing to me for being who you are, Sherlock,” you said sternly. “I swear I’ll have one of them kick you!” You gestured at the others.

“I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not enough for you,” he whispered.

“Look at me,” you said, placing your hand on the side if his face. “You are more than enough for me. Our relationship is… whole. It’s not lacking, it’s not incomplete, it’s everything it’s supposed to be.”

“If that were true,” he said, “you wouldn’t have wondered why we weren’t sleeping together.”

“Oh, good God,” you sighed. “That was because of some misaligned expectations on my part, and you know it, Holmes! If you desperately want to apologize for something, apologize for not managing those expectations sooner.”

He gave you a kind smile that was unable to hide the pain in his eyes, and took your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “I still wish it were different.”

“Well, I don’t ,” you snapped. “Because I love you. Now, tell me more about this trip we’re taking, please.” You threw an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. “Who is this mysterious coven member I’ve never heard any of you talk about? And are my, ehm… services expected to be extended to them? I mean, I—”

“No,” August snarled unexpectedly aggressively. He calmed down slightly when Marshall put a hand on his chest. “No,” he said again, this time whispering so softly you could barely hear him. Now, August having a strained relationship with Charles wasn’t exactly news to you, but even then, this reaction seemed a bit extreme…

“August, I know you don’t like him much, but we both know the most likely scenario,” Marshall replied to August’s outburst.

“And what is the most likely scenario?” Mike fidgeted with his own fingers, clearly nervous.

“That I will want to,” you said without thinking. “That’s it, right? What everyone is thinking? That I’ll want to feed them?”

Sherlock nodded slowly. “Though the agreed upon parameters of out contract do not extend to them, and you will not be responsible for keeping them alive.”

“So, by all means,” August hissed, “refuse him service.”

“August,” Sherlock warned, and to your surprise, August relaxed immediately. “Play nice.” There was an edge to his voice, almost a kind of buzz. The words felt fuzzy in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“Remember the hierarchy, love?” Marshall reminded you.

“Right…” You’d almost forgotten about that — probably because Sherlock never really pulled rank — just like you’d forgotten about the fact that…

“You can boss us around too, princess,” August said with a smile. “Although I’m quite glad you… don’t.” At least not to him…

“Mystery coven member, guys!” you reminded them of your other question.

“Ah, right,” Sherlock said with a smile. “He is the man who turned me and Charles, nearly a millennium ago. His name is Melot.”

“He’s close to, what? 1400 years old now?” Mike asked, more than said.

“Give or take,” August shrugged. “It doesn’t come down to the century once you start talking about those kinds of numbers.”

“His history is interesting, but you’ll have to ask him about it,” Marshall said before you could voice any of the questions that popped into your mind. “Pack your bags, love.”

“Don’t you have to, like… call them? Let them know we’re coming? Or did you guys plan this whole trip without ever letting me know?” It wouldn’t have surprised you, but you would have had a thing or two to say about it, for sure.

“He knows we’re coming,” August said plainly. Why was he suddenly holding your suitcase? “Anything already in here stays in here.”

You glared at him, getting up off the bed and closing the distance between you with a single step. “August Walker, you… you…”

“Use your words, princess.” He grinned, and you caught a hint of his fangs. It was infuriating.

And then you felt it.

Heat. Strength. Power.

“You insolent jackass,” you growled. “If you know everything so well, then why don’t you pack up the rest of my stuff. And you had better get it right the first time.”

A low growl escaped him before he disappeared from the room, and the strange feeling disappeared.

“Wow,” you said. “Never thought I could actually make August my bitch…”

“You may have won the battle, darling,” Sherlock said. An amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “But I doubt you’ll win the war.”

“I, for one, doubt you’ll be able to sit when he’s through with you,” Mike chuckled. “He wanted to spank the shit out of you as soon as he sensed the shift, but he couldn’t. Because hierarchy…”

“You did nothing wrong, love,” Marshall, as always, managed flawlessly to put your unspoken panic at ease. “If anything, I’d say he had it coming.”

“I’ll talk you through the etiquette during the flight,” Sherlock chuckled, no longer trying to hide his smile. “You’ll learn to control it, eventually.”

“Okay hold on for one teeny tiny little moment there,” you said. “What do you mean by ‘during the flight’? Where the hell are we going?”

“Home.” Mike said with a big smile.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Thank you darling <3

Part 23

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 22 🟣 Part 24

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Fluff, ongoing vampire shenanigans, a little ace-angst...

Word count: 2k

A/N: More vampire feels for everyone!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie @plaidcat4815 @wa-ni (Fucking dumblr won't let me tag y'all)

“Darling, can you come to the kitchen for a moment?” Sherlock asked calmly. You rounded the corner and looked at them suspiciously — the way they were all sitting around the kitchen table with serious looks on their faces made the whole thing… just kind of sus.

“Did someone die?” you asked as you joined them at the table. This was not a nice way to spend your time after the lovely shower you’d just taken.

“Oh, no! Nothing of the sort,” Sherlock reassured you. That was comforting, at least.

“We just wanted to ask you…” August started, only to be interrupted by a very excited Mike.

“We want to take a little trip!”

“In fact,” Sherlock clarified, “we would love for you to spend the summer with us… with our family.”

“You mean,” you replied slowly, “I’d get to meet the others?”

“Yes,” August answered. “There’s only two of them, no worries.” You had been wondering how big their coven was, and it was nice to hear there weren’t too many introductions to be made.

“And one of them would be Charles, correct?” It was more or less a guess, but an educated one.

“Yes. There’s a chance my brother will show up — it is quite a nice house we have…”

“Then why live here?” If they had a nice house somewhere, then why did they share this apartment?

“Sherlock moved here to teach, Mike moved here to go to college,” Marshall answered.

Mike interrupted again: “Marshall missed me too much.” You raised your eyebrows and rolled your eyes, but Marshall chuckled and shook his head.

“He’s not lying,” he said. “It took me nearly a century to be able to live apart from Sherlock. What Mike neglects to mention is that he missed me, too.”

“Did not!” Mike faux-protested. “I only called him up on the verge of crying three or four times a week!”

“At the risk of sounding completely insensitive… What? Why?” you wondered.

“We suspect it’s a way to protect new vampires, and people,” Sherlock explained. “The very young ones can be unpredictable. It’s not as much of a problem these days; there are special feeding programs for juveniles — they feed more often for the first year or so… Anyway, before feeding became legal the way it is now, it was important that youngsters learned to… well, to be quite frank about it, they had to learn to not kill everyone they bit.”

“A hungry young vampire left unattended can — and will — kill a grown man in about three minutes,” August helpfully added. “Supervision was very necessary.”

“Especially during those times when secrecy was of utmost importance,” Sherlock continued. “One wrong move… It can be tricky to gain full control over the new levels of strength and speed.”

“Not to mention those damn fangs,” Mike noted. “Just getting the bite right is tricky in the beginning.”

“You don’t just… bite?” you asked.

“When we’re close to you, princess,” August said with a strange smirk, “we can feel every vein in your body.” Did that have to sound so… ominous? “That’s the easy part. The hard part is aiming. It makes sense to have someone teach you.”

“Most of us feed exclusively on their… let’s say ‘mentor’, for the first six months,” Marshall added. “Then, by the time they move on to human blood, they’ll have something resembling restraint. Usually.” He glared at Mike.

“Okay, my first human was not a success, but…”

“It was a disaster, Mike,” Marshall said, rolling his eyes.

“He didn’t… you didn’t… right?” You could only hope they understood what you were trying to ask.

“No, she was fine. But it was a bloodbath,” Marshall grumbled. “A waste of perfectly good food.”

“Says the one with the knife kink…” you blurted out.

“I wouldn’t have dreamed of wasting a drop of blood back then. Remember that feeding was mostly illegal during that time,” Marshall reminded you. “I almost lost a very willing volunteer that night.”

“How did that conversation even go? ‘Hello, would you mind if my intern performed the procedure today?’” Everyone laughed.

“Something like that,” Marshall said eventually. “I told Manu — her name was Manuela — I had a friend, someone like me… She jumped at the chance to be his first human.”

“She was great,” Mike remembered. “Very solid about the pain…”

“She got off on the pain, genius,” Marshall laughed.

“I know that,” Mike sighed. “But even then. Stop making me look like an idiot, I know you know what I mean!”

“The difference between enjoying the bite and enjoying the aftermath of the bite,” August guessed — and judging from the looks on Mike and Marshall’s faces, he was correct.

“Sherlock?” He was gone. Suddenly. Not that that was so strange for him — you knew what he could do — but to leave like that, without warning?

“He’s in his room,” the guys said at the same time.

Of course, you were the last one to reach the door — but the first one to knock.

“Come in,” Sherlock said reluctantly, and you opened his bedroom door. “I’m sorry I disappeared.”

“What’s going on?” you asked, sitting down on his bed, and reaching for him in a silent plea for him to join you. He did, wrapping an arm around your shoulders almost painfully tightly.

“I remember this time so very differently,” he whispered. “Many… volunteers, back in the day, were exactly as they describe. But many weren’t simply in it for the pain…”

“I mean, of course there was a sexual edge to it for many of them, but…” Mike’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Right. Shit…”

“It was particularly difficult to find volunteers willing to forego the…”

“Boinking,” Mike suggested.

Sherlock looked up at him. “You can’t possibly think that would have been my choice of words, Mike.”

“Fine, amorous congress, better?”

“Marginally,” Sherlock chuckled. “Even the ones who seemed content with such an arrangement at first often became bored with the lack of…”

“Boinking,” Mike said again. “Ow! Joke, people. Joke!” He rubbed the back of his head, where August had hit him.

“What did you do?” you asked, both concerned and curious.

“I had to eat,” he answered plainly. “There weren’t too many options. Telling people what I was, was dangerous enough in and of itself. I simply viewed the” — his eyes shot up to look at Mike for a second — “intercourse as payment for the service rendered. I should add that, during this phase of my life, I was far more repulsed by the concept of sexual activity than I am now.”

“That… changes?” you asked carefully.

“There is some fluidity to it, yes,” he replied quietly. “Completely involuntary and ungovernable, of course.” He sighed. “So far, the height of my interest in physical relations has been the willingness to please a trusted romantic partner. Which is not a state in which I find myself at this current time — regrettably, I might add. I’m sorry.”

Was he apologizing? “You are not apologizing to me for being who you are, Sherlock,” you said sternly. “I swear I’ll have one of them kick you!” You gestured at the others.

“I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not enough for you,” he whispered.

“Look at me,” you said, placing your hand on the side if his face. “You are more than enough for me. Our relationship is… whole. It’s not lacking, it’s not incomplete, it’s everything it’s supposed to be.”

“If that were true,” he said, “you wouldn’t have wondered why we weren’t sleeping together.”

“Oh, good God,” you sighed. “That was because of some misaligned expectations on my part, and you know it, Holmes! If you desperately want to apologize for something, apologize for not managing those expectations sooner.”

He gave you a kind smile that was unable to hide the pain in his eyes, and took your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “I still wish it were different.”

“Well, I don’t ,” you snapped. “Because I love you. Now, tell me more about this trip we’re taking, please.” You threw an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. “Who is this mysterious coven member I’ve never heard any of you talk about? And are my, ehm… services expected to be extended to them? I mean, I—”

“No,” August snarled unexpectedly aggressively. He calmed down slightly when Marshall put a hand on his chest. “No,” he said again, this time whispering so softly you could barely hear him. Now, August having a strained relationship with Charles wasn’t exactly news to you, but even then, this reaction seemed a bit extreme…

“August, I know you don’t like him much, but we both know the most likely scenario,” Marshall replied to August’s outburst.

“And what is the most likely scenario?” Mike fidgeted with his own fingers, clearly nervous.

“That I will want to,” you said without thinking. “That’s it, right? What everyone is thinking? That I’ll want to feed them?”

Sherlock nodded slowly. “Though the agreed upon parameters of out contract do not extend to them, and you will not be responsible for keeping them alive.”

“So, by all means,” August hissed, “refuse him service.”

“August,” Sherlock warned, and to your surprise, August relaxed immediately. “Play nice.” There was an edge to his voice, almost a kind of buzz. The words felt fuzzy in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“Remember the hierarchy, love?” Marshall reminded you.

“Right…” You’d almost forgotten about that — probably because Sherlock never really pulled rank — just like you’d forgotten about the fact that…

“You can boss us around too, princess,” August said with a smile. “Although I’m quite glad you… don’t.” At least not to him…

“Mystery coven member, guys!” you reminded them of your other question.

“Ah, right,” Sherlock said with a smile. “He is the man who turned me and Charles, nearly a millennium ago. His name is Melot.”

“He’s close to, what? 1400 years old now?” Mike asked, more than said.

“Give or take,” August shrugged. “It doesn’t come down to the century once you start talking about those kinds of numbers.”

“His history is interesting, but you’ll have to ask him about it,” Marshall said before you could voice any of the questions that popped into your mind. “Pack your bags, love.”

“Don’t you have to, like… call them? Let them know we’re coming? Or did you guys plan this whole trip without ever letting me know?” It wouldn’t have surprised you, but you would have had a thing or two to say about it, for sure.

“He knows we’re coming,” August said plainly. Why was he suddenly holding your suitcase? “Anything already in here stays in here.”

You glared at him, getting up off the bed and closing the distance between you with a single step. “August Walker, you… you…”

“Use your words, princess.” He grinned, and you caught a hint of his fangs. It was infuriating.

And then you felt it.

Heat. Strength. Power.

“You insolent jackass,” you growled. “If you know everything so well, then why don’t you pack up the rest of my stuff. And you had better get it right the first time.”

A low growl escaped him before he disappeared from the room, and the strange feeling disappeared.

“Wow,” you said. “Never thought I could actually make August my bitch…”

“You may have won the battle, darling,” Sherlock said. An amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “But I doubt you’ll win the war.”

“I, for one, doubt you’ll be able to sit when he’s through with you,” Mike chuckled. “He wanted to spank the shit out of you as soon as he sensed the shift, but he couldn’t. Because hierarchy…”

“You did nothing wrong, love,” Marshall, as always, managed flawlessly to put your unspoken panic at ease. “If anything, I’d say he had it coming.”

“I’ll talk you through the etiquette during the flight,” Sherlock chuckled, no longer trying to hide his smile. “You’ll learn to control it, eventually.”

“Okay hold on for one teeny tiny little moment there,” you said. “What do you mean by ‘during the flight’? Where the hell are we going?”

“Home.” Mike said with a big smile.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Thank you so much for reading, love! <3

Bossing around August is definitely going to be our new favorite pastime, especially because he's going to get us back for it 🙊🙊

Melot as the patriarch indeed... for now 🙊 (More on that later heheheheh)

As for fucking meeting the other two... Well, you'll just have to wait, there's no other option 🙊🙊

Part 23

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 22 🟣 Part 24

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Fluff, ongoing vampire shenanigans, a little ace-angst...

Word count: 2k

A/N: More vampire feels for everyone!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie @plaidcat4815 @wa-ni (Fucking dumblr won't let me tag y'all)

“Darling, can you come to the kitchen for a moment?” Sherlock asked calmly. You rounded the corner and looked at them suspiciously — the way they were all sitting around the kitchen table with serious looks on their faces made the whole thing… just kind of sus.

“Did someone die?” you asked as you joined them at the table. This was not a nice way to spend your time after the lovely shower you’d just taken.

“Oh, no! Nothing of the sort,” Sherlock reassured you. That was comforting, at least.

“We just wanted to ask you…” August started, only to be interrupted by a very excited Mike.

“We want to take a little trip!”

“In fact,” Sherlock clarified, “we would love for you to spend the summer with us… with our family.”

“You mean,” you replied slowly, “I’d get to meet the others?”

“Yes,” August answered. “There’s only two of them, no worries.” You had been wondering how big their coven was, and it was nice to hear there weren’t too many introductions to be made.

“And one of them would be Charles, correct?” It was more or less a guess, but an educated one.

“Yes. There’s a chance my brother will show up — it is quite a nice house we have…”

“Then why live here?” If they had a nice house somewhere, then why did they share this apartment?

“Sherlock moved here to teach, Mike moved here to go to college,” Marshall answered.

Mike interrupted again: “Marshall missed me too much.” You raised your eyebrows and rolled your eyes, but Marshall chuckled and shook his head.

“He’s not lying,” he said. “It took me nearly a century to be able to live apart from Sherlock. What Mike neglects to mention is that he missed me, too.”

“Did not!” Mike faux-protested. “I only called him up on the verge of crying three or four times a week!”

“At the risk of sounding completely insensitive… What? Why?” you wondered.

“We suspect it’s a way to protect new vampires, and people,” Sherlock explained. “The very young ones can be unpredictable. It’s not as much of a problem these days; there are special feeding programs for juveniles — they feed more often for the first year or so… Anyway, before feeding became legal the way it is now, it was important that youngsters learned to… well, to be quite frank about it, they had to learn to not kill everyone they bit.”

“A hungry young vampire left unattended can — and will — kill a grown man in about three minutes,” August helpfully added. “Supervision was very necessary.”

“Especially during those times when secrecy was of utmost importance,” Sherlock continued. “One wrong move… It can be tricky to gain full control over the new levels of strength and speed.”

“Not to mention those damn fangs,” Mike noted. “Just getting the bite right is tricky in the beginning.”

“You don’t just… bite?” you asked.

“When we’re close to you, princess,” August said with a strange smirk, “we can feel every vein in your body.” Did that have to sound so… ominous? “That’s the easy part. The hard part is aiming. It makes sense to have someone teach you.”

“Most of us feed exclusively on their… let’s say ‘mentor’, for the first six months,” Marshall added. “Then, by the time they move on to human blood, they’ll have something resembling restraint. Usually.” He glared at Mike.

“Okay, my first human was not a success, but…”

“It was a disaster, Mike,” Marshall said, rolling his eyes.

“He didn’t… you didn’t… right?” You could only hope they understood what you were trying to ask.

“No, she was fine. But it was a bloodbath,” Marshall grumbled. “A waste of perfectly good food.”

“Says the one with the knife kink…” you blurted out.

“I wouldn’t have dreamed of wasting a drop of blood back then. Remember that feeding was mostly illegal during that time,” Marshall reminded you. “I almost lost a very willing volunteer that night.”

“How did that conversation even go? ‘Hello, would you mind if my intern performed the procedure today?’” Everyone laughed.

“Something like that,” Marshall said eventually. “I told Manu — her name was Manuela — I had a friend, someone like me… She jumped at the chance to be his first human.”

“She was great,” Mike remembered. “Very solid about the pain…”

“She got off on the pain, genius,” Marshall laughed.

“I know that,” Mike sighed. “But even then. Stop making me look like an idiot, I know you know what I mean!”

“The difference between enjoying the bite and enjoying the aftermath of the bite,” August guessed — and judging from the looks on Mike and Marshall’s faces, he was correct.

“Sherlock?” He was gone. Suddenly. Not that that was so strange for him — you knew what he could do — but to leave like that, without warning?

“He’s in his room,” the guys said at the same time.

Of course, you were the last one to reach the door — but the first one to knock.

“Come in,” Sherlock said reluctantly, and you opened his bedroom door. “I’m sorry I disappeared.”

“What’s going on?” you asked, sitting down on his bed, and reaching for him in a silent plea for him to join you. He did, wrapping an arm around your shoulders almost painfully tightly.

“I remember this time so very differently,” he whispered. “Many… volunteers, back in the day, were exactly as they describe. But many weren’t simply in it for the pain…”

“I mean, of course there was a sexual edge to it for many of them, but…” Mike’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Right. Shit…”

“It was particularly difficult to find volunteers willing to forego the…”

“Boinking,” Mike suggested.

Sherlock looked up at him. “You can’t possibly think that would have been my choice of words, Mike.”

“Fine, amorous congress, better?”

“Marginally,” Sherlock chuckled. “Even the ones who seemed content with such an arrangement at first often became bored with the lack of…”

“Boinking,” Mike said again. “Ow! Joke, people. Joke!” He rubbed the back of his head, where August had hit him.

“What did you do?” you asked, both concerned and curious.

“I had to eat,” he answered plainly. “There weren’t too many options. Telling people what I was, was dangerous enough in and of itself. I simply viewed the” — his eyes shot up to look at Mike for a second — “intercourse as payment for the service rendered. I should add that, during this phase of my life, I was far more repulsed by the concept of sexual activity than I am now.”

“That… changes?” you asked carefully.

“There is some fluidity to it, yes,” he replied quietly. “Completely involuntary and ungovernable, of course.” He sighed. “So far, the height of my interest in physical relations has been the willingness to please a trusted romantic partner. Which is not a state in which I find myself at this current time — regrettably, I might add. I’m sorry.”

Was he apologizing? “You are not apologizing to me for being who you are, Sherlock,” you said sternly. “I swear I’ll have one of them kick you!” You gestured at the others.

“I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not enough for you,” he whispered.

“Look at me,” you said, placing your hand on the side if his face. “You are more than enough for me. Our relationship is… whole. It’s not lacking, it’s not incomplete, it’s everything it’s supposed to be.”

“If that were true,” he said, “you wouldn’t have wondered why we weren’t sleeping together.”

“Oh, good God,” you sighed. “That was because of some misaligned expectations on my part, and you know it, Holmes! If you desperately want to apologize for something, apologize for not managing those expectations sooner.”

He gave you a kind smile that was unable to hide the pain in his eyes, and took your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “I still wish it were different.”

“Well, I don’t ,” you snapped. “Because I love you. Now, tell me more about this trip we’re taking, please.” You threw an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. “Who is this mysterious coven member I’ve never heard any of you talk about? And are my, ehm… services expected to be extended to them? I mean, I—”

“No,” August snarled unexpectedly aggressively. He calmed down slightly when Marshall put a hand on his chest. “No,” he said again, this time whispering so softly you could barely hear him. Now, August having a strained relationship with Charles wasn’t exactly news to you, but even then, this reaction seemed a bit extreme…

“August, I know you don’t like him much, but we both know the most likely scenario,” Marshall replied to August’s outburst.

“And what is the most likely scenario?” Mike fidgeted with his own fingers, clearly nervous.

“That I will want to,” you said without thinking. “That’s it, right? What everyone is thinking? That I’ll want to feed them?”

Sherlock nodded slowly. “Though the agreed upon parameters of out contract do not extend to them, and you will not be responsible for keeping them alive.”

“So, by all means,” August hissed, “refuse him service.”

“August,” Sherlock warned, and to your surprise, August relaxed immediately. “Play nice.” There was an edge to his voice, almost a kind of buzz. The words felt fuzzy in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“Remember the hierarchy, love?” Marshall reminded you.

“Right…” You’d almost forgotten about that — probably because Sherlock never really pulled rank — just like you’d forgotten about the fact that…

“You can boss us around too, princess,” August said with a smile. “Although I’m quite glad you… don’t.” At least not to him…

“Mystery coven member, guys!” you reminded them of your other question.

“Ah, right,” Sherlock said with a smile. “He is the man who turned me and Charles, nearly a millennium ago. His name is Melot.”

“He’s close to, what? 1400 years old now?” Mike asked, more than said.

“Give or take,” August shrugged. “It doesn’t come down to the century once you start talking about those kinds of numbers.”

“His history is interesting, but you’ll have to ask him about it,” Marshall said before you could voice any of the questions that popped into your mind. “Pack your bags, love.”

“Don’t you have to, like… call them? Let them know we’re coming? Or did you guys plan this whole trip without ever letting me know?” It wouldn’t have surprised you, but you would have had a thing or two to say about it, for sure.

“He knows we’re coming,” August said plainly. Why was he suddenly holding your suitcase? “Anything already in here stays in here.”

You glared at him, getting up off the bed and closing the distance between you with a single step. “August Walker, you… you…”

“Use your words, princess.” He grinned, and you caught a hint of his fangs. It was infuriating.

And then you felt it.

Heat. Strength. Power.

“You insolent jackass,” you growled. “If you know everything so well, then why don’t you pack up the rest of my stuff. And you had better get it right the first time.”

A low growl escaped him before he disappeared from the room, and the strange feeling disappeared.

“Wow,” you said. “Never thought I could actually make August my bitch…”

“You may have won the battle, darling,” Sherlock said. An amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “But I doubt you’ll win the war.”

“I, for one, doubt you’ll be able to sit when he’s through with you,” Mike chuckled. “He wanted to spank the shit out of you as soon as he sensed the shift, but he couldn’t. Because hierarchy…”

“You did nothing wrong, love,” Marshall, as always, managed flawlessly to put your unspoken panic at ease. “If anything, I’d say he had it coming.”

“I’ll talk you through the etiquette during the flight,” Sherlock chuckled, no longer trying to hide his smile. “You’ll learn to control it, eventually.”

“Okay hold on for one teeny tiny little moment there,” you said. “What do you mean by ‘during the flight’? Where the hell are we going?”

“Home.” Mike said with a big smile.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Right? I feel so bad for him T-T And he just struggles with the idea that reader is really okay with him being ace, especially when they're discussing the sexual aspects of their relationships... Let's just hope he'll get used to it <3

Yessss family trip! The plane ride will definitely be interesting! (More on that tonight, hehehe)

Part 23

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 22 🟣 Part 24

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Fluff, ongoing vampire shenanigans, a little ace-angst...

Word count: 2k

A/N: More vampire feels for everyone!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie @plaidcat4815 @wa-ni (Fucking dumblr won't let me tag y'all)

“Darling, can you come to the kitchen for a moment?” Sherlock asked calmly. You rounded the corner and looked at them suspiciously — the way they were all sitting around the kitchen table with serious looks on their faces made the whole thing… just kind of sus.

“Did someone die?” you asked as you joined them at the table. This was not a nice way to spend your time after the lovely shower you’d just taken.

“Oh, no! Nothing of the sort,” Sherlock reassured you. That was comforting, at least.

“We just wanted to ask you…” August started, only to be interrupted by a very excited Mike.

“We want to take a little trip!”

“In fact,” Sherlock clarified, “we would love for you to spend the summer with us… with our family.”

“You mean,” you replied slowly, “I’d get to meet the others?”

“Yes,” August answered. “There’s only two of them, no worries.” You had been wondering how big their coven was, and it was nice to hear there weren’t too many introductions to be made.

“And one of them would be Charles, correct?” It was more or less a guess, but an educated one.

“Yes. There’s a chance my brother will show up — it is quite a nice house we have…”

“Then why live here?” If they had a nice house somewhere, then why did they share this apartment?

“Sherlock moved here to teach, Mike moved here to go to college,” Marshall answered.

Mike interrupted again: “Marshall missed me too much.” You raised your eyebrows and rolled your eyes, but Marshall chuckled and shook his head.

“He’s not lying,” he said. “It took me nearly a century to be able to live apart from Sherlock. What Mike neglects to mention is that he missed me, too.”

“Did not!” Mike faux-protested. “I only called him up on the verge of crying three or four times a week!”

“At the risk of sounding completely insensitive… What? Why?” you wondered.

“We suspect it’s a way to protect new vampires, and people,” Sherlock explained. “The very young ones can be unpredictable. It’s not as much of a problem these days; there are special feeding programs for juveniles — they feed more often for the first year or so… Anyway, before feeding became legal the way it is now, it was important that youngsters learned to… well, to be quite frank about it, they had to learn to not kill everyone they bit.”

“A hungry young vampire left unattended can — and will — kill a grown man in about three minutes,” August helpfully added. “Supervision was very necessary.”

“Especially during those times when secrecy was of utmost importance,” Sherlock continued. “One wrong move… It can be tricky to gain full control over the new levels of strength and speed.”

“Not to mention those damn fangs,” Mike noted. “Just getting the bite right is tricky in the beginning.”

“You don’t just… bite?” you asked.

“When we’re close to you, princess,” August said with a strange smirk, “we can feel every vein in your body.” Did that have to sound so… ominous? “That’s the easy part. The hard part is aiming. It makes sense to have someone teach you.”

“Most of us feed exclusively on their… let’s say ‘mentor’, for the first six months,” Marshall added. “Then, by the time they move on to human blood, they’ll have something resembling restraint. Usually.” He glared at Mike.

“Okay, my first human was not a success, but…”

“It was a disaster, Mike,” Marshall said, rolling his eyes.

“He didn’t… you didn’t… right?” You could only hope they understood what you were trying to ask.

“No, she was fine. But it was a bloodbath,” Marshall grumbled. “A waste of perfectly good food.”

“Says the one with the knife kink…” you blurted out.

“I wouldn’t have dreamed of wasting a drop of blood back then. Remember that feeding was mostly illegal during that time,” Marshall reminded you. “I almost lost a very willing volunteer that night.”

“How did that conversation even go? ‘Hello, would you mind if my intern performed the procedure today?’” Everyone laughed.

“Something like that,” Marshall said eventually. “I told Manu — her name was Manuela — I had a friend, someone like me… She jumped at the chance to be his first human.”

“She was great,” Mike remembered. “Very solid about the pain…”

“She got off on the pain, genius,” Marshall laughed.

“I know that,” Mike sighed. “But even then. Stop making me look like an idiot, I know you know what I mean!”

“The difference between enjoying the bite and enjoying the aftermath of the bite,” August guessed — and judging from the looks on Mike and Marshall’s faces, he was correct.

“Sherlock?” He was gone. Suddenly. Not that that was so strange for him — you knew what he could do — but to leave like that, without warning?

“He’s in his room,” the guys said at the same time.

Of course, you were the last one to reach the door — but the first one to knock.

“Come in,” Sherlock said reluctantly, and you opened his bedroom door. “I’m sorry I disappeared.”

“What’s going on?” you asked, sitting down on his bed, and reaching for him in a silent plea for him to join you. He did, wrapping an arm around your shoulders almost painfully tightly.

“I remember this time so very differently,” he whispered. “Many… volunteers, back in the day, were exactly as they describe. But many weren’t simply in it for the pain…”

“I mean, of course there was a sexual edge to it for many of them, but…” Mike’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Right. Shit…”

“It was particularly difficult to find volunteers willing to forego the…”

“Boinking,” Mike suggested.

Sherlock looked up at him. “You can’t possibly think that would have been my choice of words, Mike.”

“Fine, amorous congress, better?”

“Marginally,” Sherlock chuckled. “Even the ones who seemed content with such an arrangement at first often became bored with the lack of…”

“Boinking,” Mike said again. “Ow! Joke, people. Joke!” He rubbed the back of his head, where August had hit him.

“What did you do?” you asked, both concerned and curious.

“I had to eat,” he answered plainly. “There weren’t too many options. Telling people what I was, was dangerous enough in and of itself. I simply viewed the” — his eyes shot up to look at Mike for a second — “intercourse as payment for the service rendered. I should add that, during this phase of my life, I was far more repulsed by the concept of sexual activity than I am now.”

“That… changes?” you asked carefully.

“There is some fluidity to it, yes,” he replied quietly. “Completely involuntary and ungovernable, of course.” He sighed. “So far, the height of my interest in physical relations has been the willingness to please a trusted romantic partner. Which is not a state in which I find myself at this current time — regrettably, I might add. I’m sorry.”

Was he apologizing? “You are not apologizing to me for being who you are, Sherlock,” you said sternly. “I swear I’ll have one of them kick you!” You gestured at the others.

“I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not enough for you,” he whispered.

“Look at me,” you said, placing your hand on the side if his face. “You are more than enough for me. Our relationship is… whole. It’s not lacking, it’s not incomplete, it’s everything it’s supposed to be.”

“If that were true,” he said, “you wouldn’t have wondered why we weren’t sleeping together.”

“Oh, good God,” you sighed. “That was because of some misaligned expectations on my part, and you know it, Holmes! If you desperately want to apologize for something, apologize for not managing those expectations sooner.”

He gave you a kind smile that was unable to hide the pain in his eyes, and took your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “I still wish it were different.”

“Well, I don’t ,” you snapped. “Because I love you. Now, tell me more about this trip we’re taking, please.” You threw an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. “Who is this mysterious coven member I’ve never heard any of you talk about? And are my, ehm… services expected to be extended to them? I mean, I—”

“No,” August snarled unexpectedly aggressively. He calmed down slightly when Marshall put a hand on his chest. “No,” he said again, this time whispering so softly you could barely hear him. Now, August having a strained relationship with Charles wasn’t exactly news to you, but even then, this reaction seemed a bit extreme…

“August, I know you don’t like him much, but we both know the most likely scenario,” Marshall replied to August’s outburst.

“And what is the most likely scenario?” Mike fidgeted with his own fingers, clearly nervous.

“That I will want to,” you said without thinking. “That’s it, right? What everyone is thinking? That I’ll want to feed them?”

Sherlock nodded slowly. “Though the agreed upon parameters of out contract do not extend to them, and you will not be responsible for keeping them alive.”

“So, by all means,” August hissed, “refuse him service.”

“August,” Sherlock warned, and to your surprise, August relaxed immediately. “Play nice.” There was an edge to his voice, almost a kind of buzz. The words felt fuzzy in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“Remember the hierarchy, love?” Marshall reminded you.

“Right…” You’d almost forgotten about that — probably because Sherlock never really pulled rank — just like you’d forgotten about the fact that…

“You can boss us around too, princess,” August said with a smile. “Although I’m quite glad you… don’t.” At least not to him…

“Mystery coven member, guys!” you reminded them of your other question.

“Ah, right,” Sherlock said with a smile. “He is the man who turned me and Charles, nearly a millennium ago. His name is Melot.”

“He’s close to, what? 1400 years old now?” Mike asked, more than said.

“Give or take,” August shrugged. “It doesn’t come down to the century once you start talking about those kinds of numbers.”

“His history is interesting, but you’ll have to ask him about it,” Marshall said before you could voice any of the questions that popped into your mind. “Pack your bags, love.”

“Don’t you have to, like… call them? Let them know we’re coming? Or did you guys plan this whole trip without ever letting me know?” It wouldn’t have surprised you, but you would have had a thing or two to say about it, for sure.

“He knows we’re coming,” August said plainly. Why was he suddenly holding your suitcase? “Anything already in here stays in here.”

You glared at him, getting up off the bed and closing the distance between you with a single step. “August Walker, you… you…”

“Use your words, princess.” He grinned, and you caught a hint of his fangs. It was infuriating.

And then you felt it.

Heat. Strength. Power.

“You insolent jackass,” you growled. “If you know everything so well, then why don’t you pack up the rest of my stuff. And you had better get it right the first time.”

A low growl escaped him before he disappeared from the room, and the strange feeling disappeared.

“Wow,” you said. “Never thought I could actually make August my bitch…”

“You may have won the battle, darling,” Sherlock said. An amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “But I doubt you’ll win the war.”

“I, for one, doubt you’ll be able to sit when he’s through with you,” Mike chuckled. “He wanted to spank the shit out of you as soon as he sensed the shift, but he couldn’t. Because hierarchy…”

“You did nothing wrong, love,” Marshall, as always, managed flawlessly to put your unspoken panic at ease. “If anything, I’d say he had it coming.”

“I’ll talk you through the etiquette during the flight,” Sherlock chuckled, no longer trying to hide his smile. “You’ll learn to control it, eventually.”

“Okay hold on for one teeny tiny little moment there,” you said. “What do you mean by ‘during the flight’? Where the hell are we going?”

“Home.” Mike said with a big smile.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Ahhh sock!! Thank you so much, I'm really glad you like the boys and their shenanigans!

(I just realized I added you to the taglist for this one without asking you if that was okay. Lemme know if you want me to take you off again <3)

God I love Sherlock in this fic (and vampire!Sherlock as well, they're both my babies and I love them so much!) so it always makes me so happy to hear other people love him too 🥺🥺🥺

Thanks for reading <3

Part 15 - Dress rehearsal

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 14 -- Part 16

Pairing: Sherlock x ofc

Summary: Sherlock and Elena can't seem to say goodbye to each other - even after spending the whole day together.

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, Is it finally happening? fingering, oral (f receiving), thigh riding... Think that's it? Sherlock being Sherlock...

Word count: 5.9k

A/N: So yeah. Even I couldn't find another good reason to interrupt whatever was going down again - that would just be cruel. That being said, this wasn't entirely the direction I had planned for them to go in... There was definitely a playbook for this chapter and this wasn't it, I can tell you. ENJOY!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @peaches1958 @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill

“You were fantastic, Elena,” Sherlock said as they walked out of the theater. Dress rehearsal had ended, which meant they were now only a day away from the New Year’s concert, meaning Elena was beginning to experience something of a nervous breakdown. Sherlock, for the life of him, couldn’t imagine why; she was very good and thoroughly prepared. From his perspective, nothing could possibly go wrong. Elena was of a wholly different opinion, reliving the memories of that one time in primary school she had become violently sick before a performance. Those memories refused to fade no matter how long ago it was, and no matter how many successful performances she had tried to use to overwrite them. She was largely past her nerves when playing with a quartet, because over time it had become familiar, but this would be her first time ever playing with a full orchestra and the novelty of the experience frightened her to no end. Thus, Sherlock’s efforts in trying to convince her that she was good and everything would be fine were wasted, which is why he ceased them. 

Sherlock Holmes was not the kind of man to try and convince someone who wouldn’t be convinced, Elena had learned, and since she wasn’t one to fish for compliments, she didn’t mind that Sherlock didn’t turn to what she considered to be ‘debased flattery’. He only ever attempted to calm her nerves with logic and reason, and - though his endeavors were fruitless - she appreciated that greatly. After the sixth or so attempt, logic simply dictated that it was time for him to stop trying. 

“Suit yourself,” Sherlock said as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. Now, as opposed to his words, which did nothing to calm Elena’s nerves whatsoever, the physical contact did make her feel more comfortable. The weight of his arm on her shoulders had a strangely calming effect. 

As always after rehearsals, he walked her home. It had started shortly after they had begun rehearsing together; the days had started to become shorter, and Sherlock had expressed his concerns about her walking home alone in the dark. At the time, he’d had no idea that the main reason for his worry had been his infatuation with her, he had simply brushed it off as a gentlemanly regard for her safety, and had convinced himself, though only partially successfully, that he would have felt the same way about any other female friend - not that he had any. Same as last week, he lingered when they arrived at the place Elena shared with three others, neither of them wanting to say goodbye to the other. They strongly disliked being apart, that much had become clear over the past two weeks. 

“Sherlock, I was planning on making pasta, do you want to join me for dinner?” Her voice was almost trembling when she asked. Luckily, Sherlock accepted her invitation - though it was primarily based on the fact that he couldn’t find a logical argument not to; he hadn’t had dinner and he liked Italian food. And of course there was the emotional argument of allowing himself more time in her presence, but he was still getting used to giving in to those feelings, and therefore glad he could in this case supplement them with reason. 

The door swung open behind them before Elena had even reached for her keys, and her roommate Kate appeared. 

“I thought I heard you standing around here, talking, Ellie!” Elena jumped when she heard the unexpected noise behind her. Sherlock noticed that she spoke with a profound drawl to her voice, revealing her Southern heritage. The accent was very different from Sy’s, and Sherlock found himself utterly unable to narrow down its origins, which irked him. 

“Katie! Oh my god, you almost gave me a heart attack!” She took a deep breath. “This is…” There was no time for her to finish that sentence, because Kate already had her eyes on him, wide with surprise. “Sherlock, obviously.” 

“Yes,” Elena said as her cheeks slowly colored red. She couldn’t quite articulate what made her nervous all of a sudden, but she was fairly sure there was a part of her that was afraid Sherlock would think her roommate prettier than her.

“Lovely to meet you, Kate,” Sherlock said. He had heard many stories about Elena’s roommates over the weeks they had been rehearsing together, most of them good, and he wasn’t necessarily nervous about meeting them. 

“We’ve met before, Sherlock,” Kate said with a big smile. Sherlock frowned, not in embarrassment over having forgotten the encounter, per se, but mostly in annoyance of having his memory fail him in this moment. The surprise on Elena’s face, however, was mostly just funny - which would explain why Kate laughed at it. Sherlock took a moment to take Kate in while he searched every crevice of his brain for a hint as to who she was and where they had met. She was a blonde, and pretty but not remarkably so. The most striking thing about her was her height, which rivaled his own. Elena had mentioned something about her being on the volleyball team, which would explain why he didn’t know her, but certainly was no clue as to why he had met her before. To say he wouldn’t be caught dead at a volleyball game would be an overstatement, but it certainly was more Mike’s or Sy’s territory. Or maybe Charles’ or Leon’s. 

“Charles,” he muttered out loud as he chuckled, “you… know… Charles…” 

“That’s a very polite way of putting it,” Kate laughed as she stepped aside to let Sherlock and Elena step into the apartment. 

“I didn’t want you to think it was a judgment,” Sherlock said matter-of-factly, which made Kate laugh even harder. 

“I couldn’t give a damn even if you were judging me, honey,” she said as she raised two hands to his face, but Elena stopped him. 

“Tone down the Southern affections, sweetie,” she said. 

“I can’t touch your man, Ellie?” Kate teased. She was well aware that there was probably a better reason than Elena’s jealousy - which Kate knew wasn’t something that actually existed - to keep her hands off Sherlock. 

“Not if he doesn’t want you to, and he doesn’t like to be touched by people he doesn’t know.” It was Elena’s turn to speak in ways that left no room for discussion. Sherlock seemed pleasantly surprised upon hearing the remark - he always found it endearing when she unpromptedly showed him a glimpse of how well she knew him. It was true; he did indeed prefer to limit physical contact between himself and people he was poorly acquainted with - and most often also with people with whom he was better acquainted, though Elena was doing a stellar job at convincing him the occasional friendly touch wasn’t so bad, either.

“Alright, sugar, I’ll try to remember.” Kate had an exceptionally friendly smile that would make people feel at home instantly. Unless these people were anything like Sherlock, of course, who felt very out of place in this house he had never visited, with people he had never met. 

“Remy and Larissa are out, they should be back some time after dinner, I have a study date to get to!” There was definitely a suggestive wink at the end of that sentence that made Elena roll her eyes as Kate flung a bag over her shoulder and prepared to step out. 

“Use protection!” Elena yelled as Kate pulled the door shut behind her. When she turned around, she was met with an adorably confused look. 

“She said she had a study date, right?” Elena could barely contain her laughter. 

“Sherlock, do you remember how our last study date ended?” She said, letting out a short chuckle. Sherlock couldn’t help but be amused at his own foolishness - something he wasn’t usually able to forgive himself at all. The reminder had another pleasant effect, namely that the memory of that rather memorable date was pulled to the front of his mind and replayed as he followed Elena to the kitchen. 

It was a nice apartment; clean and only a tad messy, but that conclusion was drawn mostly based on the abundance of clutter Sherlock himself wouldn’t feel inclined to keep around. Some would consider it the pot calling the kettle black, as practically anyone would readily accuse Sherlock of allowing his own room to fall into disarray, though he saw a perfectly logical system in whatever August or Geralt every now and again called ‘chaos’. He lost himself in thought as Elena gathered ingredients for dinner from the fridge and cabinets, only to be yanked away from them violently when a jar of olives fell to the kitchen counter. 

“I’m sorry, it slipped,” Elena said as she checked whether the jar had survived the fall - it had. 

“Are you alright?” Sherlock asked as he watched her hand tremble when she took a knife from the drawer and placed it on a cutting board. 

“Perfectly,” she said, smiling kindly. It wasn’t a lie; she was feeling alright, it was just that four hours of rehearsal had left her hands rather sore - mostly her left. 

“Elena, let me,” Sherlock said. One would be right to assume that Sherlock was facing the same issues - namely that his left hand was particularly worn out from a very lengthy practice, and Elena was of course quick to point this out. 

“You are right, darling,” Sherlock said without much thought, “but my left hand isn’t my dominant one.” She knew he was right, and that her hand was indeed far too tired to safely handle anything sharp right now. Sherlock took the knife and started dicing tomatoes, Elena was too distraught to protest his actions. 

They cooked dinner together and used their time eating to talk about the past day - even though they spent the entirety of it together. 

“It was a shame they moved the rehearsal up,” Elena said in between bites. Dress rehearsal should have been from seven to ten at night, but the conductor had decided at the last minute that it should be moved to the afternoon - and twice as long. That meant Elena and Sherlock had been forced to move their museum date to the morning, which was unfortunate, but inevitable if they wanted to go at all. 

“I still had a great time,” Sherlock said as he let go of his glass of wine to put his hand over Elena’s. She smiled at him. She’d had a great time, too, and she was very glad the day wasn’t over yet. 

“Is the wine okay?” It was absolutely nothing special, just the house’s favorite: the cheapest supermarket wine she and her housemates didn’t find absolutely disgusting. 

“It’s decent,” Sherlock said as he laughed. It wasn’t a lie, per se, the wine was just that: decent, but it certainly deserved no higher praise than that. 

When the dishes were done, Elena looked at Sherlock as she stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around him. He answered her hug greedily, as though he hadn’t felt her touch in weeks. 

“Movie?” Elena asked as she looked at him. She didn’t wait for an answer before she took his hand and pulled him towards the door. He followed her to her room with no objections - and why should he object? He had a fairly good idea of what was going to happen, and he would in no way be able to present any kind of argument against it, logical or otherwise.

“So, this is me,” she said shyly as she gestured around the room. Sherlock took note of her locking the door - it was strange to him; he never felt the need to lock their doors at his place, people usually had the common decency to knock. And if they didn’t… Well he wasn’t quite sure there was an official protocol in place, but individual instances had involved a lot of yelling, cursing and throwing things at people’s heads.

“I can tell,” Sherlock replied to her question - and he meant it. She looked at him quizzically, which made him chuckle. “In a good way. It’s very… you.” He meant that, too, although it probably was a rather awkward way to phrase it. The room was tidy, clean and bright. Her bed was hidden from sight by an open shelving unit that held mostly plants and books. Elena laughed as she dragged Sherlock around it, to the bottom edge of the bed. To her surprise, he was the first to sit down. It was a bit awkward to crawl up to the top of the bed and get comfortable, but she valued the privacy the shelves provided too much to put it anywhere else. It surely didn’t help that she was wearing a skirt. The pair settled on a movie both had already seen, but didn’t mind watching again - or not watching. 

“Why the movie,” Sherlock mumbled against the skin of Elena’s neck after a few minutes, “I mean, at this point it’s obvious we will largely ignore it, so why the pretense?”

“It’s good background noise,” Elena answered. Sherlock being this clear about his intentions for the evening sent shivers down her spine, and she reveled in the excitement and anticipation at finally getting to finish what they started the other night. “Besides, I’m a woman. If I’m too eager about hooking up with a man, people may think I’m…” Her voice trailed off, not because she wasn’t sure how to finish it, but rather because she resented the fact that she had to explain this in the first place. 

“I never really understood why that was a bad thing to begin with,” Sherlock spoke slowly, “I, for one, am glad you’re more experienced than I am. Although it sometimes intimidates me a bit.” Elena turned her head in surprise upon hearing his words. She had never imagined he would be intimidated by her past, especially since - despite the limited practice they had had together - Sherlock outranked her previous partners by a landslide. Perhaps the rose colored glasses of amorous infatuation were to blame, or perhaps it was the ease and comfort with which they had been getting to know each other, or even the excitement she felt over being the first with whom he got to experience all these new things, but one thing was certain; she looked forward to and thoroughly enjoyed every minute they spent together. 

“There’s nothing to be intimidated by,” Elena whispered softly as she turned around in his arms, “you’re by far the best kisser I’ve come across.” 

“Am I now?” He was clearly amused at your confession. “Because I feel I could use some more practice…” 

Naturally, he didn’t have to ask her twice. Their lips touched, the taste of wine still faintly present on them, becoming more pronounced when Elena parted her lips and allowed his tongue to slip past them. Sherlock surprised her when he pulled her on top of him. She chuckled softly as his hands slipped underneath the fabric of her sweater, in no hurry to take it off per se, but clearly desperate to feel her skin. A devious idea took hold of her and she sat up on her knees, still straddling him, grabbing his hands and pulling them off her. 

“Shall I take this off?” Elena said, locking eyes with Sherlock, warning him to keep his hands to himself without speaking a single word. She didn’t wait for him to answer her. Instead, she toyed with the hem of her sweater, pulling it up at an agonizingly slow pace. Sherlock’s tongue darted out unconsciously to wet his lips as he allowed his eyes to wander over the area of exposed skin that grew so devastatingly slowly.

His hands rested on her thighs, long fingers fiddling with the hem of her skirt in a manner that resembled impatience, but wasn’t quite that. It was mostly excitement that had taken hold of him, the evidence of which she could no doubt feel beneath her. A playful roll of her hips confirmed his suspicions, and the grunt it elicited made Elena chuckle. She took her time taking her sweater off, starting the whole process over again when Sherlock raised his hands to touch her. He showed her he had enough of her antics when she finally pulled the sweater over her head. 

“Take the skirt off, too, while you’re at it,” he growled. The words pleasantly surprised Elena, and she was more than happy to oblige. Once she had discarded her skirt, Sherlock shot up, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his mouth to the skin between her breasts with a sigh, spinning her around so she landed with her back on the mattress, drawing a high-pitched squeal from Elena. She moaned when he pulled away, sitting up on his knees between her legs. He was intimidating like this; towering over her, his silhouette clearly defined by his broad shoulders.

She bit her lip as she looked up at him, and moaned softly as he ran his hands lazily up and down her thighs. They were still covered by the tights she was wearing, but Sherlock was quick to help Elena as she peeled those off, too. It was a bit uncomfortable, being subjected to his gaze knowing that nothing ever escaped it, fearing her every one of her flaws was now on display for him to behold, but at the same time the look in his eyes told her everything she needed to push those feelings aside; this man was absolutely smitten. He would find no flaws no matter how much time she awarded him to think it over. 

The lingerie she was wearing was revealing - more so than Sherlock had expected - and it cost him great effort to tear his eyes away from it. He only managed to do so when he felt her hands cover his, pulling at them, no doubt in an attempt to bring him close to her, but he held off. Elena clearly disagreed with his reluctance to close the distance between their bodies, and sat up, scrambling to get up on her knees. She pulled his face to hers for another kiss, softly sucking on his bottom lip, and took advantage of their position to get Sherlock closer to her current state of undress. As always, Elena delighted in the feeling of his skin on hers - so much so that she was almost unaware of the hands that found their way to her back, where they undid the clasp of her bra, this time without any problems whatsoever. 

“How?” Elena asked, eyes wide with surprise. The advantage her experience gave her over him seemed to shrink every day. 

“Danielle gave me a rather helpful explanation when I asked after walking in on a conversation between her and Mike,” Sherlock said plainly, “well, conversation… She was poking fun at him for not being able to do it, either.” Elena laughed, which turned into a squeal as Sherlock let himself fall forward onto the mattress, dragging her along with him. He spun them around so that she fell half on top of him. 

“Now where were we?” Her mouth crashed onto his before he had good and well finished his sentence, her hands eagerly undoing his trousers. There couldn’t have been clearer signs of impatience, though Sherlock couldn’t quite figure out what the hurry was. Nevertheless, he yielded to her touch, and soon he found himself only slightly less naked than the last time they had been together. 

Elena laid her forehead against his while she gently stroked his chest, running her fingers tenderly through the coarse hair on it, luring a satisfied moan from Sherlock’s parted lips. His hand crept up to her neck as he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and slow, but something pressing crawled underneath the surface of it, which made it even more surprising that he broke the kiss. He barely lifted his lips off hers; only just far enough to be able to speak clearly.

“I was afraid this would get boring,” he whispered softly, his lips brushing against hers as he did, “but I can’t seem to get enough of you.” Elena first bit her own lip when she heard his words, but soon pulled Sherlock’s in between her teeth, instead. His words set alight in her something she had purposely and quite skillfully kept under control, but all that effort was wasted now; her body was begging for him so loudly she could no longer govern or ignore it.

Elena kissed him with the raw passion she had been hiding from him, finally allowing it to take over completely, trusting he would stop her if she threatened to cross a line - hoping he wouldn’t have to stop her at all. Sherlock noticed the change all too well, and - much to his own surprise, as well as Elena’s - he leaned into it, instead of shying away from it like he had expected he would. His fingers trailed from the side of her face, down her neck, slowing down as they moved further down to her breast. The other hand slid down to rest at the small of her back, fingers tentatively playing with the waistband of her underwear.

She moaned into his mouth when he gently pinched her nipple, only getting louder - much louder - when he carefully rolled the sensitive bud between his fingers. Her hips rocked into him - unconsciously at first, but as she discovered that it provided her aching core with the friction it so desperately begged for, she found herself grinding her hips into his thigh purposely. Sherlock carefully observed her movements and the sounds of pleasure that spilled from her with an interest bordering on obscene fascination, or so he would describe it. Soft, wet kisses along her jawline, the sharp contrast of teeth softly biting her earlobe, the same repeated down her neck - it all added to her bliss. Moans and gasps sprang freely from her mouth now that it was no longer obscured by his, and Sherlock was able to gauge her arousal just about perfectly from them. 

The hand he held on her back slipped beneath the fabric of her underwear, fingers digging into the flesh of her ass, kneading it. He guided the rhythm of her hips on his thigh, his other hand joining the first, while his mouth took hold of her breast. Elena cried out in frustration at the overwhelming combination of sensations. The way his tongue worked the sensitive skin of her nipple was almost enough to send her over the edge, and her hands twisted into his hair to pull him closer. A soft graze of his teeth was her undoing. She screamed his name as she came, and rode out her climax on his leg. Sherlock’s response - which Elena had to admit she found quite adorable - was to laugh softly in disbelief at what had happened.

What he felt was not a sense of pride - as far as he was concerned, he wasn’t entitled to it, as he had done nothing to help her - but rather a surge of affection, and a thorough appreciation of the intimacy of the moment. He was not awarded much time to consider matters, as his face was pulled up and Elena’s lips found his, capturing them in a passionate kiss that was the nail in the coffin for Sherlock’s self-restraint. He turned them around again, leaving Elena once again in awe; she simply couldn’t believe how strong he really was - or perhaps she kept forgetting on purpose, just so her body would keep reacting the way it did every time she was reminded of it. 

“I want to see you.” Sherlock’s voice was hoarse and his breaths were heavy as he hooked his fingers around the waistband of her panties. The look in his eyes begged for permission, which she gladly gave him, and within a few short moments, she was completely naked in front of him. Her experience allowed her the confidence to spread her legs, a teasing smile lingering on her lips. A part of her hoped that he would become ever so slightly flustered at the sight of her, exposed in front of him like that, but he didn’t. The way he bit his lip as he took in her naked form sent shivers down her spine. He lunged forward, crouching over her to press another kiss to her lips, his thighs against hers, pushing her legs further apart. Much to her surprise, his mouth left hers to explore once again the skin of her neck, and then her chest, but he didn’t stop there… His trail of kisses continued until from slightly below her navel, pleading eyes looked up to her, and the only thing she could respond with was a hand on his head that provided slight pressure to encourage him to keep going. 

He continued pressing kisses on her skin, traveling all the way to her leg. His soft lips, sharp teeth and warm tongue took turns on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, as two cautious fingers hesitantly explored her. Once again he used the moans she let out as his guide, taking note of her reactions as he went along; the sharp gasp when he carefully pushed a finger into her wet core - or the even sharper one when he later added a second, the moans that followed his soft nibbles on her leg, the way her muscles twitched when his thumb brushed past her clit. Sherlock considered for a moment how fortunate he was that she was loud, because it was hard for him to concentrate. The general novelty of the experience had every nerve in his body once again feeling like a live wire, and the accumulation of sensations diminished his usual mental capacity. It was better to have clear instructions at such times - and by God did she deliver on that front. The least subtle hint came when she weaved her fingers into his hair and gently nudged him closer. Whether he intended to tease her by holding off for a bit, or he waited in hesitation or due to nervousness, he didn’t know, but her voice cut clearly through the fog in his brain when she begged him to progress. 

“Sherlock, please.” It was a simple request, and her voice was dripping with lust, which made it entirely irresistible to him, and so he obliged. 

It didn’t immediately seem as though he did it gladly: his free hand trembled slightly as he wrapped it around her leg and let it rest on her stomach. Elena squeezed it encouragingly, biting her lip and using her eyes to beg him to continue. Slowly and hesitantly, he dragged his tongue through her folds. Her reaction overwhelmed him, and soon he succumbed to his feelings. Overcome with lust, he wrapped both of his arms around her thighs and pulled her closer. The unexpected action made her gasp, and her fingers once again found their way into his hair as his tongue settled at her clit and began to work the little pearl with the same diligence and dedication he used for everything he even remotely cared about, still using her moans to guide him. Her hips rolled against him gently, though his stern grasp on her legs limited her movement quite a bit, and he tried his best to settle into the rhythm of her movements.

“Oh, God, right there.” Sherlock immediately took the advice to heart, not straying from that particular spot again, relishing the needy cries Elena let out as he gently licked and sucked the sensitive bundle of nerves, making her squirm and whine more and louder with every passing second. When she began muttering expletives under her breath, he chuckled lowly, the vibrations of his voice seemingly worsening her situation even further. Her cursing eventually became pleas for him to continue, and Sherlock slowly felt her muscles tense beneath his fingers. 

“Don’t stop, I’m so close,” she begged, and he happily obliged. Elena’s words certainly hadn’t been a lie; it was only seconds later that she came undone on his tongue. Sherlock chuckled at the feeling of her clenching muscles beneath his fingertips, the contorted expression of pure bliss on her face - and the fact that she screamed his name certainly didn’t hurt one bit. After the last surge of ecstasy ebbed away, she had to beg him to stop. He heeded her request, though not gladly; on his face lay an expression of sadness for only a short moment before his lips morphed languidly into a smile.

“That was amazing,” she gasped when he came back up and laid down next to her. She gratefully accepted the invitation of his extended arm and nestled into his side. They both shivered; the room was quite chilly without clothes or the literal ‘heat of the moment’ to keep them both warm, so they opted to wrap themselves in the covers and the other’s arms. Elena kissed Sherlock softly. “I’m impressed.” 

“Are you, now?” Oh, how she longed to wipe that smug grin off his stupid and devilishly handsome face. To her surprise, it disappeared on its own, quickly replaced by a more modest and - dare she say - insecure expression. “It wasn’t bad for a first time, you mean?”

“It wasn’t bad in general, Sherlock,” she chuckled softly, “but for a first time, it was absolutely fantastic.” His cheeks gradually colored a deeper red as he looked away and bit his lip. It looked as though he might say something, but words seemed to elude him, so he just shrugged, instead. 

“I’m serious,” she said in between soft kisses pressed to his clavicle, “not many men can even find the right spot on the first try, let alone make a woman scream like that.”

He looked at her in shock, and it was her first instinct to think it was because of the plain language she used, but when he spoke, she found it was something else entirely. 

“Well, they might consider opening a biology book every now and again,” Sherlock said with a slightly sour edge to his voice, “or getting their eyesight checked.” Elena laughed. She found the moments where Sherlock’s ego shone through - though his remarks were always genuine and his confidence was always deserved enough to not come across as boastful - utterly delightful. He was, for all intents and purposes, as stubborn as a mule, and absolutely refused to attempt things if he wasn’t completely sure he could handle them, which inevitably led to an abundance of successful first tries - and a thorough lack of unsuccessful ones. His arrogance was usually inadvertent, and hardly ever of the ‘look at me’ variety, but rather often still - albeit unintentionally - a dig at others’ expense - and often a very deserved one, at that. With a wide smile adorning her face, she shook her head slightly. Sherlock laid his forehead against hers, a hint of mischief clear in his gaze.

“What?” His tone was innocent, his eyes were everything but. “It’s literally right -” His fingers wormed their way between her legs. “there.” Elena’s mouth fell open when he gently pressed down on her clit. “Exactly where they tell you it’s going to be.” He dragged his fingers around it in slow circles, leaving her gasping for air, clutching at his wrist. “Come here.” The kiss was fantastic. Raw and deep, and drenched with the taste of her juices - Elena felt like she was about to faint. He held her tight to his chest while he skillfully coaxed another orgasm from her with his fingers, and she was left in complete and utter awe at his unexpected proficiency.

“Sherlock!” She squealed, pulling his hand away when she finished. “You have to stop, I can’t take any more right now, please.” She murmured the words against his neck, her chest heaving to the rhythm of her heavy breaths. His head disappeared into the crook of her neck, softly kissing her again, and she sighed. It was a sound of elation, one that echoed through his head and caused goosebumps to erupt all over his skin. For a few moments, he held her, thinking about all that had happened, and as he did so, he felt his eyes drift closed. 

“I could fall asleep like this,” he murmured softly as he gently stroked the skin of her back. She hummed, deeply content with the prospect of sleeping next to him. 

“Well, I won’t stop you,” she said, sounding equally as fatigued as he did - perhaps even more so. 

“I have to go home,” his voice was hoarse when he said it, and when she looked into his eyes, there was a deep sadness in them that all but broke her heart. 

“Why?” She was fairly sure that the sorrow in his gaze was mirrored in her own. 

“I may not get nervous before performances,” he explained, “but I do have a ritual…” Naturally, she understood immediately that this was very likely to be one of those things Sherlock was very particular about. She was reluctant to let him go, not ready to say goodbye to him and the warmth and intimacy they shared. 

“What about tomorrow,” she asked suddenly, “tomorrow night, I mean. Will you stay over after the concert?” He considered her offer for a moment, leaving Elena in horrible suspense until he finally gave her an answer. 

“I will gladly spend the night with you, Elena, but I have one favor to ask of you,” his voice was hesitant, and he bit his lip nervously. 

“Well, what is it?” She lifted a hand to his cheek and caressed it softly. She chuckled at the contrast between the way his jaw felt now versus when he had picked her up this morning. 

“Would it be okay to stay at my house, instead?” His inquiry seemed to make him feel uncomfortable, and Elena reassured him he had absolutely no reason to feel ashamed about what he was asking. 

“Would that make you feel more comfortable?” He responded with a nod. Sherlock was sure the familiar environment would help to settle his nerves about the matter. Of course he was overjoyed he would get to spend a whole night with her, but if he was going to face the scorn of anyone’s roommates the next morning, he’d honestly rather they be his own. He studied her face for signs of ridicule, though the bigger part of him was sure he wouldn’t find any. After all, he wouldn’t be here with her if she were the kind of person to mock him for his quirks and unusual behaviors, but he was reminded ever so cruelly by the tiniest bit of insecurity that had etched itself into his brain, that he could never be completely sure of what was on her mind or in hear heart. 

“It would.” He couldn’t bear to look at her as he said the words. 

“Your place it is, then.” Shortly after their conversation, he got dressed and left. Elena was left behind slightly dazed, and it took her a minute to gather her thoughts and really think about the events of the evening - most of which she did back in her bed with her hand placed firmly where she missed Sherlock’s so dearly. After a few rounds of careful consideration, she got up again. From a box on the shelves over her headboard, she grabbed another box and threw it into her bag. Just in case. 

-> Part 16

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Writers suffer from tinker bell brain they need constant applause or they start believing everything they’ve written is horseshit