#vampire sherlock heart eyes

[gardenofskeletonss]

you're nothing without me

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Seven

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Jasper… because I’m horrible at holding out for a slow burn, but it’s tame don’t worry!

Notes: So sorry it’s a day late than normal, work has kept me heckin’ tired. Again, thank you for all the love so far! I can’t believe you amazing people actually like what I write!

Word Count: 1672

Series Masterlist

• March 9th, 2005 • Home •

Reader

Deciding to play sick to avoid going to school since my cheek is still tender from last night, I made a show of spending the morning pretend-vomiting. I managed to convince my mother that I was fine enough to stay home alone today from school. She ended up finally leaving for work twenty minutes late after some encouragement from me behind my closed bedroom door, but only after I heard her rummaging around in the kitchen - laying out supplies for soup, crackers, and bottles of water so that I didn’t have to search for it in my ‘state’.

I’m still fuming from my argument with Jasper last night. I’m beyond grateful for his rescue, but mad he couldn’t tell me how he pulled it off. What the fuck is he hiding? Did Bella manage to get an answer from Edward? I rub my head where my scalp still tingles from the rough treatment yesterday as I contemplate theories.

Grabbing my phone, I flip it open and type Bella a message: My house after school? Mom will be at work.

It only takes a few moments before my cell vibrates: Definitely, Edward told me everything.

I stare at my phone, surprised. Everything? Everything as in, last night? Or why they aren’t allowed on the rez? Why they’re so fucking cryptic all the time? Why no one has been able to penetrate their tight-knit group?

A knock on my front door disturbs me from my thoughts; glancing at the clock, it shows that it’s about halfway through first period already. Who would-

More insistent knocking. Alright, alright I think as I descend the stairs.

“Hello-“ I greet, swinging the door open, but I stop short at who is standing on my front porch: Jasper Hale.

“You’re not at school.” He says, standing there like I offended him by not showing.

“Very astute of you. I’m mad at you, Sherlock.” Folding my arms across my chest, I level him with a gaze that would normally melt a normal boy.

But he isn’t a normal boy and he can’t tell me why.

“Education is important.”

I laugh and fire back, “The truth is important.”

“Invite me in.” He asks, stepping up to the doorway. I know he’s giving me control instead of just barging inside - especially after what happened last night, but who is he to make requests right now?

“No.” I don’t budge, not giving him an inch.

“Then take a walk with me, darlin’.” I can feel my anger waver as I continue to stare into his dark eyes. I try to fight it, but a wave of curiosity douses my anger and I cave reluctantly.

“I need shoes.” I tell him in a clipped tone as I turn on my heel for the hallway closet.

“Grab a jacket too, doll.”

I huff at his request, not happy to take suggestions from him when I’m irritated and he’s being considerate.

“Okay what gives? Why are we tromping through the woods?” I stop next to a tree, refusing to walk any further in silence.

“Ask me. Ask me again.” He turns to face me head on, determination set on his face.

“What’s different from last night?” I ask, skirting what he wants.

“Fuck it.” His arms lift and then drop to slap his jean-clad thighs.

“Fuck it?”

“Fuck it, Y/n. Ask away.” He steps closer from where he stopped ten feet away.

“How did you know where we were-“

“We followed you. We were in Port Angeles after returning from our camping trip and saw you two leave the dress shop. Next question.” He interrupts me like he’s in a hurry to offload the information.

“What’s with your family?” He cocks his head as if asking for clarification. “Every single one of you likes to keep everyone at arm’s length. You don’t have friends, you don’t hang out outside of school. You aren’t allowed on the Quileute res-“

“How do you know that?”

“Bella and I talked to some people - did some research, answer me.” I demand.

“Shit.” I hear him whisper to himself as he takes another step closer and rubs his jaw.

“You’re cold as ice, your eyes change color, your temperament is old-fashioned, I’ve never seen you actually eat anything, you’re always gone on sunny days-“

“Say it.” He says, eyes hard as he closes in. “You did the research, what’s your theory?”

“You-you're a vampire?” I say uncertainly.

He’s backed me against the tree, arms boxing me in as he stares down at me in silence for a few heavy moments, our breathing the only sound in the forest.

He leans forward and my body stills, “With confidence - you smart, pretty girl.” He whispers in my ear, breath sending a cascade of goosebumps down my neck.

“You’re a vampire, Jasper Hale.” A sudden dose of confidence strengthens my voice.

The possibility this man was a vampire didn’t really cross my mind until now. Sure, looking up the answers with the information Bella and I learned had shown that as a possibility. But it’s entirely different saying it out loud, saying it to his face and having him not deny it.

“Good girl.” The praise weakening my knees and stealing the breath from my chest. The guy I have a crush on is a vampire and he just confirmed it.

More surprising, I’m not scared of him. Thrilled, high as fuck on the knowledge that I figured him out, but utterly unafraid.

“Are you scared?” He backs away, eyeing my trembling form.

“No.” I answer honestly.

“Then ask me what I eat. What sustains a vampire?” He’s egging me on to try and scare me, I can see it.

“Blood-“

“Blood.” He confirms menacingly as he turns to pace, burying his hands in his blonde hair.

“Is that all?” I ask, not really sure where to go from here.

He lets out a laugh like the world was just lifted from his chest, the kind you let out on a rooftop in the rain after a stressful day. “Is that all?” He says incredulously.

“Are you just going to repeat my questions? You just dumped something pretty monumental on me, I didn’t want to stop you if you were on a roll.”

He stops walking to face me, expression completely sober, “Where have you been all my life?”

Bella isn’t even all the way through my front door before I blurt, “He’s a vampire, they’re all vampires and he confirmed it.”

Her eyes widen, “You talked to Jasper?”

“You talked to Edward?” I counter, seeing as she isn’t denying my confession.

“I-“ she’s shaking her head speechless, exactly how I feel.

“I know.” I just hold her hands and stare.

“I mean - we did the research.”

“I know.” I repeat. What are we getting ourselves into? What now?

• March 10th, 2005 • Forks HS Parking Lot •

Jasper

“Tell me about being a vampire.” Y/n asks me after checking our surroundings for anyone close enough in the student parking lot to over hear our conversation.

I see Rosalie huff and slam the door to her red convertible, tearing it out of the parking lot. I catch her emotions as she flies by: irritation, anger, annoyance. That’ll be fun to deal with later.

“My skin is nearly impenetrable, it’s like granite.” I lift my arm as she reaches for me as if to inspect my skin. “I don’t need to breathe-“

“That’s why you hold your breath!” She whisper shouts and I’m surprised by her observation. “I can tell when you’re not breathing, you’re shit at pretending.” She says as she turns to throw her backpack in the backseat of her car.

I chuckle and shake my head as I look at the ground, this girl is a firecracker.

“What?” She asks, emotions giving away that she’s self-conscious and I meet her eyes.

In that moment, after a lifetime of being hated and lonely, I wanted something. Not just something, I wanted her. I wanted a mate, I wanted to be chosen, I wanted life.

I wanted her to want me.

Reader

“I want to take you out.” Jasper said, the words almost knocking me off my feet.

“Like in a murder sense?” I joke back, scared of the alternative.

He steps forward and cradles the back of my head in one of his hands as his mouth drifts towards my ear, a rare display of affection in a crowded parking lot and my heart constricts painfully in my chest.

“No silly girl, on a date.” Jasper’s lips tickle as he whispers, his chest rumbling with a light chuckle as his breath and words shoot goosebumps in a tsunami-type fashion down my body.

I inhale sharply, Jasper Hale asking me on a date? I clench my fingers in the front of his shirt, surely this isn’t real.

“Say yes,” he whispers into my temple, “you’re overthinking it.”

My brain function winks out at the feel of his lips on my skin, like he knows the effect he can have on my poor nerves.

“I can’t, I still have homework to do. And you know, chores and stuff.” I whisper back in a trance, squeezing my eyes shut.

Jasper tilts his head back and lets out a hearty laugh at my half-assed response.

“What?” I demand, my brows furrowing in confusion.

“Darlin, you’re so sure of everything until it comes to what you feel. The one thing you’ll never have to doubt is that I’m yours now, ready or not.” He tells me, a confident grin on his perfect lips. “And you didn’t have to take me up on my offer tonight.”

My cheeks burn as I grin at his words, I know he’s right. “I-it’s just-you-“ I stutter, words failing me at his confession.

“Shhh, I’m not going anywhere.” He pulls me back in to kiss my hairline, settling my nerves. “I can wait. For you, I’ll wait.”

Next

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 28

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 27 🟣 Part 29

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: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, male masturbation, fingering, p-in-v sex, shower sex, ongoing vampire shenanigans, haematophilia (that's a blood fetish, people.), (hence unsurprisingly) lots of blood, paranormal voyeurism, regular voyeurism, exhibitionism, taunting August (bad idea, probably), (light?) predator/prey dynamic, elements of D/s dynamic, praise kink, hair pulling, some light spanking, spitroasting, mentions of (something resembling) subspace, the guys being fucking idiots (because why not), deepthroating, double facial...

Word count: 4k

A/N: Well, here we go... You can thank @geralts-yenn for the early posting of this chapter (And you can thank me for finishing CH29 yesterday so I feel comfortable posting this already lol... I like to have an extra chapter on file, idk why)

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

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

@plaidcat4815 @wa-ni @lovemusicpart2 @lizzystuffsthings @manysecrets2020

@sarcasmoverlordxo

You were on your way to Mikey’s room, where you’d been spending your nights since you still hadn’t figured out what to do with the room you’d been given, when something stopped you dead in your tracks. It was a strange pull that felt familiar and completely new at the same time — something reminiscent of a violent longing for… you. The feeling was clouded by the same static you experienced when Mike was feeding on you, sharing his gift — but Mike was nowhere near you, and therefore by any and all logic also very much not feeding. More importantly: this feeling didn’t come from Mike.

As if by magic, you were drawn towards the source of it, and the closer you got, the stronger the feeling, until you came to a halt in front of a door. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breath labored, a maelstrom of unidentifiable thoughts racing through your mind. An image forced its way to the foreground — a thought not your own.

You reached for the doorknob and opened the door despite not knowing what was even behind it. A bedroom. Whose?

The faint sound of running water reached you from behind another door in the corner of the room — anyone’s best guess would be that there was a bathroom behind door number two. Another image flashed through your head — this time clearer. Closer.

You. Naked. Bloodied.

Your breath quickened as your heart beat so loudly in your ears there was no way that whoever was behind that door hadn’t heard it — although there was a possibility they were slightly too preoccupied with their thoughts to notice.

As quietly as possible, you tiptoed to the bathroom door, and you pushed the handle down without thinking about it for too long. Evidence strongly suggested you’d find Marshall on the other side of the door, and you deliberately didn’t think of the consequences in case you were wrong about that.

You weren’t wrong.

The sight before you made you clench your thighs together, and with great difficulty you fought back a gasp. He was in the shower, leaning against the wall, eyes closed and stroking himself in a lazy rhythm.

He didn’t look up, didn’t even move — any more than what he’d been doing up until now, anyway — but there was no way he didn’t know you were here. To paraphrase Mike: you couldn’t ambush him, the man could read minds.

A smile appeared on his lips. Had he heard you?

“Yes.” Alright, that answered that question.

“Want some company?” For the first time, you realized Marshall was the only person in your entire family with whom you could communicate without the possibility of anyone else overhearing you…

“I like that thought.” It almost sounded like a confession. “And I wouldn’t say no to that.”

You discarded your clothes as quickly as humanly possible, and hurried into the shower without thinking, where you were welcomed with open arms by Marshall — and met with a very unwelcome stream of water that was way too cold.

You shrieked, fighting to get away — not so much from Marshall, but definitely the glacial temperatures of the water. No wonder the glass of the shower stall hadn’t been steamed up.

“Thank you for not letting go of me,” you said after you’d rectified the temperature-situation.

“You’re more than welcome.” Why was he smiling? Did he think this was funny? “A little.”

“I can leave, if you’re going to be like this,” you warned, but his arms tightened around you, and you knew you didn’t have a prayer.

“It’s exceedingly rare that prey walks into my arms so willingly.” Your cheek was pressed against the cool tiles of the wall, a hand twisted into your hair, and you relished the weight of him as he leaned into you, pinning you against the wall. “I hardly think I’m prepared to let you go.”

Words got stuck in your throat, and your thoughts remained an unintelligible mess as you attempted to gain an understanding of the situation while every cell in your body screamed at you to run. To say you’d never seen him like this would be a lie. You had. Twice — maybe even three times, but you were a little preoccupied with the situation at hand to figure out which instances counted, and which ones did not. Entirely new, however, was your sudden willingness to surrender.

Then why did the last shred of defiance in your body demand you struggle against his iron grasp?

“We both know it’s useless.” Correct. “But I have to admit I admire your spirit. Not that I expected anything else from you.”

Were you trembling in fear, or in anticipation? Marshall’s grip on your hair tightened and you whined softly. He forced his thigh between yours, nudging your legs apart with his, and again you struggled — and again it was completely and utterly useless. A low growl escaped through his gritted teeth as he inhaled deeply, dragging the tip of his nose along your neck. With his free hand, he turned the showerhead away from you.

“Are you nervous, love?” He chuckled as you cried out when his fang suddenly pierced your earlobe. You instinctively reached for the source of the pain, the sharp sting quickly subsiding until it was no more than a dull throb that felt eerily similar to the one between your legs. When you looked at your hand, your fingertips were red.

Marshall’s sharp teeth grazed your neck without breaking skin, and you winced on instinct. “No, don’t…”

He spun you around effortlessly, pinning your wrists to the wall over your head with one hand while the other forcefully found it’s way between your legs, two fingers slipping into your eager, aching pussy with ease.

“Don’t?” He smiled deviously. “You know exactly what I want to do to you, you stand here dripping and waiting, your body begging me… I can feel your pulse so clearly inside this tight little cunt. Tell me, what exactly is it that you don’t want me to do to you?”

You had no answer to that question, knowing that if the thought of asking him to stop occurred to you for so much as a split second, he would have heeded your request long before you’d ever be able to voice it. Not a single part of you wanted him to stop for even the shortest moment.

Involuntarily, your muscles clenched around his fingers as he pumped them into you in a lazy rhythm. His teeth dragging over your skin leaving you teeming with anticipation, until he finally bit down just above your collarbone. He took pull after pull from you, in time with the rhythm of his fingers inside your core, as if he was feeding. Only he didn’t swallow. Instead, he let your blood flow out of his mouth, allowing it to run down your body. A metallic scent filled the air, adding to the already overwhelming sensations of hot steam, seemingly limitless arousal and the divine sounds of pleasure that spilled freely from Marshall’s throat.

“I’ve never had the pleasure with one of your kind,” he explained. “Always had to be careful… Forgive me.”

Forgive him? For what? For showing you exactly what you’d been so curious about for a while now? For loving you in his own, twisted way? He let go of your hands when you struggled against him, and you used your newfound freedom to grab Marshall’s face and pull his mouth to yours, the taste of your own blood strange on your tongue. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he abandoned his pursuits between your legs to pull you close against him with one arm while the other guided your leg to his hip.

A dull thud broke your fixation on Marshall for a moment. August. Near Marshall’s bedroom door. “Huh?”

“He’ll leave if you want him to.” Marshall’s thoughts were clouded, strained in a way that matched his labored breathing. “But he would love to watch…”

Although you did not mind him listening in, you had so far preferred your intimate moments to be relatively August-less — unless, of course, those intimate moments were with August, in which case his presence was not a want, but rather a rock-solid requirement — but something felt different.

“Come in,” you whispered barely audibly, ignoring the surprised look on Marshall’s face that quickly morphed into a devilish grin as he lifted you off the floor.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, twisted your fingers into his hair as he bit your neck and continued to make a complete mess of you. A quick glance down at the bright-colored water around Marshall’s feet pushed the throbbing ache between your legs back to your attention, but your interest was soon piqued by something far more exhilarating: the absolutely thrilling sight of a very worked up August, leaning against the bathroom door, his black shirt hanging open to reveal his heaving chest.

“How does it feel, love?” Incredible. It felt incredible. A moan escaped you as you felt the tip of Marshall’s cock nudge at your entrance, and you looked over his shoulder, straight into August’s almost pleading eyes as Marshall pushed into you.

You cried out, your pleading whine clearly music to both your guys’ ears. Not once did you take your eyes off August as Marshall fucked you in a steady, demanding rhythm, luring moans and cries from you with every thrust. August was clearly hanging on to his last shred of restraint, a pained expression on his face as he struggled to… to what?

“You know how we feel,” Marshall said to August with a dark chuckle as he thrust into you a bit harsher, drawing sharp whines from your throat. “By all means, enjoy yourself while I take what you can’t have…”

In a split second, you were facing the glass with Marshall’s hand fisting your hair, pulling your head back as he pressed your bloody tits against the glass. More blood still trickled down your body from the bites Marshall had left, and without hesitation, he added another on your shoulder, letting the thick, warm liquid run down your back and between your breasts.

Still, your eyes never left August’s, except to glance down as he took his cock out. The sight was enough to make you whine, silently cursing the glass that kept you from reaching out and touching him. A shiver ran down your spine as Marshall pushed into you from behind. It was a struggle to keep your eyes open, yet you couldn’t bear to take them off August as he stroked himself at a slow, steady pace. You gritted your teeth as you looked at him, rage ripping through you so suddenly that you couldn’t hold back a growl.

“That’s normally our line, princess,” August said, his mouth curling into a smug smirk. “What’s the matter?”

“Bastard,” you cursed under your breath, your eyes still trained on his — your gaze cold and harsh while his was devious and provocative. “Come here.”

The sound of the sharp smack Marshall delivered to your ass bounced off the tiles, followed by a fierce, stinging pain. “Mind your manners.”

Yes, Sir…

The feeling of willing obedience subsided, washed away by the same rage from before. Defiance…

“It’s called being a fucking brat, love.” The echo of Marshall’s voice in your head was cut off by the sharp sting of another smack on your ass.

“I’m glad to see you don’t intend to spoil her education,” August said with the most insufferably arrogant edge to his voice, followed by an equally insufferable chuckle.

“Mike will take care of that, I’m sure,” Marshall grunted through gritted teeth, never wavering in his rhythm as he continued to fuck you. “Melot, in time, too.”

You huffed, the sharp breath coming out as a half-snarl. If Marshall knew about your curiosity towards Melot, then August, no doubt, did too.

You placed a hand on the glass at the height of August’s hips and looked up at him with pleading eyes. He was relentless, as always. “Isn’t she wonderful?” he asked Marshall softly. “I just can’t get enough of that wet, throbbing pussy…”

Your nipples hardened against the glass as sparks skittered up and down your spine. Moans turned into cries, your back arched further, seemingly acting of its own accord, and your clit throbbed almost painfully.

August’s doing, no doubt. But why were you fighting him?

“Sweet princess,” August chuckled, “it’s pointless, you know that. You’ll come for us, and you’ll do it now.” A smug grin spread across his face as your restraint shattered and stars danced before your eyes as you toppled over the edge.

Marshall took pity on you and your quaking knees, and slowed down, gently guiding you down from your peak. “Good girl,” he whispered softly. “That’s it. Good girl.”

He and August exchanged looks. “Look at her,” Marshall said. “Still so desperate for you…”

“For both of us,” August corrected. “If you don’t mind…”

Marshall clearly didn’t mind, because a brief wave of cool air later, you were in August’s arms, one arm draped around his neck while the other grasped desperately at his hip.

It probably shouldn’t have surprised you that all this time, Marshall’s thrusts — although relentless and rough — had been gentle enough to avoid any painful situations, but it did.

“To be fair, I do believe August is helping,” Marshall muttered as he finally slowed down, allowing you to catch your breath.

“Minimally,” August said casually, lifting your chin so you were looking up at him. He winked, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips before he lowered his mouth to yours and you were lost in a searing kiss. August moaned into your mouth as you wrapped your hand around his cock and stroked him in time with Marshall’s rhythm.

The way August looked down at you, licking his lips as he took in the literal bloodbath Marshall had created, turned your knees weak as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. “It never used to be my thing,” he muttered, shooting a quick glance at Marshall before locking eyes with you again, “but I must admit you’re a sight for sore eyes, princess.”

You moaned loudly when August’s hand closed lightly around your throat. He took a step back, moving his hand to the back of your neck and dragging your head down. Your heart skipped a beat, and nerves gnawed on your insides for a moment — but only a moment. August simply didn’t allow for much time to work yourself into some unnecessary frenzy about this: he impatiently tapped his cock against your lips. “Open up, princess. And spare me the attitude.”

“No need to panic, no need to resist… We know exactly what you think and how you feel, love.” A comforting thought, in a way.

They took good care of you, exactly as you’d expected — but make no mistake; they certainly took good care of themselves as well. Too much thinking certainly didn’t serve you well in this situation, that much became clear immediately, but as soon as you surrendered yourself to them, you fell into an easy rhythm that worked well for everyone.

No matter how fun it was to oppose and provoke, you couldn’t muster the strength — or maybe you just didn’t want to. Instead, you let yourself slip into the deep, calming comfort of the knowledge that you were safe and loved — a thought that seemed to be completely contradictory to the fact that you were literally being used as a mindless fuck doll, if you were being honest.

You could have lasted forever in that comfortable, floaty feeling — that’s what it felt like, at least — had it not been for the interesting sound. A slap — but different, and somehow your brain registered it for what it was immediately, and dragged you back to reality. And your attitude with it.

You stood up straight so abruptly that you finally seemed to have succeeded in taking your vampires by surprise, and you looked at them with a suspicious glare, going back and forth between Marshall and August a few times before you found the words you needed.

“You did not just… high five…” Those dumbass grins told you everything you needed to know. “Really? Four hundred years and you still haven’t managed to grow the fuck up?” You silently cursed yourself. You’d been having fun, right? Then why, pray tell, did you feel this intense urge to somehow ‘gain the upper hand’ in a situation that did not call for anything like that at all?

Of course, they saw right through you.

“Princess, I’ll give you two choices. Either you get on your knees…” August started, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Make me.”

“And that would have been option two,” Marshall said. He was suddenly behind you, holding your wrists together behind your back. “I’ll ask one more time.”

What was it with you and this continuous urge to struggle and pick fights when you knew you couldn’t win?

“It’s because you know you can’t win, love,” Marshall whispered. He was right — of course he was right!

It was completely unsurprising, then, that you were suddenly on your knees, unsure of whether you had done so of your own volition. One thing was clear, though: You were where you wanted to be, on the floor, looking up at August and Marshall as they towered over you.

Marshall was fresh out of however little patience he’d still possessed before your unruly intermezzo. “Be a good girl, love,” he said slowly, “and finish what you started.”

As he pushed his cock past your lips, you didn’t object. Instead, you slowly felt yourself fall back into that same calm headspace from before. It came from a place of total trust — feral nature be damned; Marshall would never hurt you.

Your vision was blurred by tears as you tried your best not to choke, so you had little else to go on than the sounds and near-continuous stream of swearing that spilled from Marshall’s lips, and the feeling of the tightening grip on your hair as he got closer and closer to orgasm with every thrust.

“Eyes closed, mouth open, love,” Marshall growled as he pulled his cock out of your mouth. This was not an order to argue about — there was no time: He finished himself off with a few swift strokes, and August followed mere seconds after him. ‘Eyes closed’ had been a very solid instruction…

“Fucking hell,” August muttered. Was it his finger that lightly trailed along your jaw? Had to be.

“I’m never getting this image out of my head.” Marshall’s words made you chuckle, and for a moment you furiously wished you could see yourself right now. Maybe someday, in a flash of Marshall’s thoughts. “Alternatively, I could take a picture…”

The idea both frightened and excited you — not because you thought you couldn’t trust the guys with a photo like that, but mostly because you were afraid you wouldn’t look good in it, although Marshall — and then August, once he got wind of the idea — was quick to point out that was a total non-issue. As far as they were concerned, you looked hot as fuck right now.

“Not that you normally don’t,” August said, chuckling softly.

“Just… Make it quick,” you laughed. “I feel sticky.”

“Might be more than just a feeling, love,” Marshall replied. “Done.”

That still didn’t mean you could open your eyes, but at least you didn’t have to try so hard to sit pretty. You slumped down on the floor, suddenly uncomfortably aware that you were cold, and tired. A strange, sinking feeling hit you suddenly, but before you had good and well thought about what it could be, August was on the floor next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest.

Then, water hits your knee. “Is it warm enough, princess?” August asked kindly, his voice soft and warm. You nodded, unable to speak for some reason. “Alright, that’s good.” He spoke slowly and clearly, obviously doing that on purpose, but you couldn’t figure out why exactly. “Is it alright if I clean your face? Do you want to do it yourself?”

“You can do it.” You weren’t kidding about suddenly feeling very tired.

As soon as August was done washing your face, and you opened your eyes, you felt a very stern grasp on your chin. August turned your face to him. His voice was still gentle when he spoke: “Look at me for a second, okay? Don’t look around right now — I mean it. Do yourself a favor and keep your eyes on me.”

He said it in such a way, with such seriousness to his voice that it simply made sense to do as you were told. Had you decided against that, you would have been confronted with a gigantic mess.

Blood. Lots of it. Everywhere. The wall, the glass, and — last, but certainly not least — on you.

The guys were right to assume that would have thoroughly freaked you out, so August kept you warm, snuggled up tightly against his chest in the corner of the shower while Marshall set out to turn the place into something a little less ‘Saw XI’ and a little more ‘normal bathroom’. After that, it was your turn.

You grew more and more tired by the second — especially since Marshall turned out to have a hidden talent for scalp massages, which you had the privilege to discover when he took it upon himself to wash your hair, even after you insisted that you could do it yourself. It wasn’t a complete lie: You probably could have, but there was absolutely no denying how very nice it was to not have to.

August and Marshall seemed determined to clean every inch of you thoroughly and with the gentlest care, never missing an opportunity to ask if you were okay, if you needed anything, if there was anything they could do for you…

“Stop asking that,” you whispered. “And get me into bed, please.”

You barely registered being carried out of the shower. They made quick work of drying you off and rushing you back into the bedroom.

“The bites,” August said to Marshall before he sealed his mouth over one of them. Marshall followed suit, dragging his tongue over another bitemark. “This one won’t stop bleeding.” His voice was so calm that you weren’t startled by the message.

“Does it need more than a simple band-aid?” Marshall asked, equally calmly. Why was he asking? Didn’t he already know the answer? “You deserve to know what’s going on, love. In that spirit: a band-aid is plenty. I’ll be right back.”

As always, he was true to his word, gently tending to your neck within seconds of announcing his departure. Then, someone knocked on the door, and Marshall disappeared again.

“Thanks,” he said to whoever was on the other side of the door — you couldn’t be bothered to turn around.

“Take care of her.” Of course it was Mike. You couldn’t help but smile, especially when Marshall returned, holding a cup of tea.

You drank it in silence, after the guys had made sure you were tucked in comfortably between Marshall and August.

“Will you both stay here?” you asked, somehow afraid of the answer. What if they said no?

“Neither of us would dream of leaving, princess,” August whispered. “We’ll be right here for as long as you need us.”

“Is… Is there anything you guys need?” you asked hesitantly.

“I’m good like this,” August said, and Marshall agreed with him. “You’re all we need right now."

[littlefreya]

Danse Macabre

Summary: She cannot tell who she is anymore, nor where she is. All that she knows is that Sherlock is not the man he pretends to be and that every night he comes to her bedroom to feast on the delights of her body... 

Pairing: Vampire!Sherlock Holmes x Virgin OFC (no mentions of body type or ethnicity)

Word count: 2.2K

Warnings: 18+, Dark, horror, dubious consent, sex, supernatural themes, I guess we can say monster sex? Mentions of blood, hinted Stockholm Syndrome, loss of virginity, metaphors, obsession, hinted hypnosis, bites, vampire sex, mind manipulation.

A/N:  I don't own Sherlock Holmes or Enola Holmes. Many thanks to my angels: @agniavateira for beta'ing my work and supporting me, and to @notabronte for giving me feedback and encouraging me to post. Please reblog and leave a comment if you enjoyed it. 🖤

Danse Macabre 🕯️

How long has it been; a month? A year? An eternity? 

Time swayed differently in Mister Holmes’ mansion — if it moved at all.  

The nights seemed endless, and the days… she couldn’t remember the last time she was awake during daytime. Perhaps this was a nightmare, or maybe it was the cold tentacles of death that pulled her into an abyss; but then, if the dead couldn’t feel pain then why did his kisses hurt?

It was in the bawls of midnight when Sherlock stalked into her bedroom— his jaw stern, cheekbones sharp and strikingly distinguished by the flame of a single candle held in his hand. Hunger filled his careless face, and his eyes flickered brightly like glowing orbs of ice. 

Unable to scream or move, she watched him behind the ghostly veils of her bed. Hot wax dribbled down his fingers—little white tears of sorrow that she wished she herself could cry, but Sherlock had not only drained her of such force but by some enchantment, coaxed her to submit to his sacrilegious desire

“Undress,” he demanded from the doorway where he stood, shrouded by the crimson haze of the poorly lit corridor. Whatever was behind him, she could never see, the width of his bulky figure blocked the path like a monster from a children’s tale.

‘Monsters are real, Momma. They look like men in tailored vests and shiny leather shoes.’

Her fingers trembled, hands stiff and heavy. Yet she did what she was told without question, allowing the straps of her nightdress to fall down her shoulders the way a dying leaf falls from a branch. 

Eyes a shade colder than ice, his glare fell to her breasts, and his chest puffed with a rumbling growl. Slowly he stalked forward, treading like a spider on its web. The tips of his fingers turned black as if dipped in poison whilst his nails grew long and sharp at every step.

“The duvet. Set it aside.” 

His voice was the rumble of an inching thunder, an echo inside her head that made her bones rattle. Whenever he spoke, it felt as if invisible strings wrapped around her wrists and persuaded her limbs to do as he commanded. Even when her soul begged her to give a sliver of resistance, her hands still lifted to obey this dark ventriloquist and pushed the blanket away. 

The stem of Sherlock’s throat clenched at the delicious splendour: bare, youthful skin, so tight and so supple. A thing that should have never been touched, should have never been spoiled and yet he yearned for nothing but to leave his marks at the depth of her soul.

The scent that emanated from the flesh between her thighs elicited a guttural groan from his chapped lips. In his throat pulled the ghastly hunger. Setting the candle on the wardrobe, he stalked toward the bed, his shadow metastasizing and devouring every shred of light that dared enter the chamber. 

Both the mattress and her heart sank once he placed a knee on the bed and began to crawl between her parted legs, slowly and predatorily, dragging himself closer to her heat. Black, sharpened nails graze their way up her inner thighs, admiring the pureness of the forever-young flesh. 

Encased in a glass coffin, his young ward would forever be protected from famine, disease, and time; and what was Sherlock if not a warden fulfilling his duty?

‘A monster! God, please! There is a monster in my bed!’ 

If only she could scream, if only God hadn’t abandoned her. Instead, all she could do was shiver, her heart giving no sound as Sherlock forced himself between her thighs. One razor-sharp fingernail traced the plumpness of her breast, tenderly circling and caressing the nipple. 

“Mine,” he growled and slipped his nail down the valley of her torso, casually tugging the remains of her gown to expose her pure mound. Red glinted on those piercing shards that replaced his eyes—red like a flicker of fire from a match. “Look at me,” he demanded, though there was no need for him to ask. 

That same gaze that possessed her had sliced through the tendrils of her mind. 

Nodding, she lifted her gaze to meet his, her lips parting in a quiet plea as the ghastly, pointed talon made careful strokes amidst the swollen petals to collect the honeyed dew that gathered at the seams of her untouched cunt. 

“My poor little dove, it’s so lonely in there…” he keened, attempting to slide his long monstrous finger inside of her. But her maidenhood, still obstinate to protect her from the vile urges of men, forbade him access. 

Foolish. 

What strength did her flesh have against such a sinister entity if even iron locks and carved religious figures couldn’t keep him away? Huffing with scorn, he drew an icy fingertip around the outlines of her slit, further spreading the sinful wetness across the seams of her cunt.

She mewled, despite herself, her waist moving in a smooth tidal sway. 

Sherlock could never tire of this, not of the terror in her eyes whenever she saw him at her bedroom door nor the moans she emitted as he traced her engorged flesh with a finger or his tongue. But what he favoured above all was the sensation of his cock as it tore through her seal and those heavenly pained cries that eventually turned into the moans of a whore. 

What a great fortune it was that they had an eternity of this dance. 

Hovering above his prey, he propped his knees between her legs, the fabric of his trousers brushing against her inner thighs as he lowered his weight upon her. If there was any air in her lungs, she would have let out a shuddering breath; but what came instead was a silent gasp, and only her lips quivered as she prepared herself for the familiar twinge of his invasion.

Reaching for his groin, he freed his hardened cock and stroked a hand across its length before nudging the heart-shaped crown at the gates of her purity. Not yet pushing in, he teased himself up and down her narrow slit, treating her the way a lover treats his delicate mistress— the way a cat toys with a mouse.  

Lips swollen and tingling, she whimpered, her yet-empty hole twitching as if heeding a primal call. How could she fear and need him at the same time? Did she loathe herself so much that she wanted him to defile her? Tears began to rim her eyes, and from quivering lips, she whispered, “please…”

Letting out a low rumbling chuckle, he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead before whispering in her ear, “You, my ward, are such a mystery…” 

Her mouth opened to speak but a scream followed instead. One unceremonious thrust and he sunk into her lush depth, his girthy cock devouring the sweetness of virginal flesh. Indifferent to her pain, he pushed further and deeper past her folds until every inch of him was buried within. 

Cries and squeals sputtered from her mouth—the monster had tore her innocence, the pain had seared, and in pathetic pleas for mercy, she slapped against his bare chest and tried to shove him away. But Sherlock knew no mercy, for truly he was a beast, not just by the breadth of his shoulders and untypically muscular figure, but by his blunt absence of elegance and heartless mien. Giving her no moment to adjust, he had already began to pump himself inside of her now-defiled cunt.

Such a mask of virtue did her warden wear; to the world, a perfect, eloquent gentleman. But behind closed doors, lurked a sick, sinister man who only wished to desecrate this tender maiden in this dark sacrament. 

Over and over, he pulled away only to plunge into her again, each thrust harder than the last, each thrust ending with the slap of his sack against her cunt. And the moans that came from him - had the most debauched resonance, as if she was a long anticipated feast to a voracious man.  

Unable to meet his vigour, her walls whined a protest and squeezed around him in a futile battle to drive him out; yet for Sherlock, this tightness was nothing less than an aphrodisiac. If any, her insubordination did nothing but provoke the ungodly creature within him. Reaching a clawed hand to her chin, his fingers pressed into the hollow of her cheeks, forcing her to stare directly into his bright-red eyes as he began to fuck her in a punishing pace.

“I am already inside you, little dove. There is nothing that can be done,” he rasped while his hips continuously snapped into hers, every second rut bringing her closer to surrender as friction drew that which she so religiously wanted to resist. 

“Give in to me, and I will give you pleasure like no other.”

His words were but a spell. Briefly, unbidden, a spark inside her womb ignited, giving life to ecstatic flames that cascaded through her canal. While a part of her wanted to stay pure and deny this vicious man, an unbearable ache for his return struck her every time he pulled out from her slit. In mindless despair to hold him close, she had finally caved in and wrapped her legs around his waist to hold him near.

Triumphant grunts rumbled in his throat. Appeased by her surrender to his whims, he lifted his upper torso, his taut abs flexing as he rose to hover above her. With his hand still around her jaw, he pressed her deeper into the mattress while pummeling her cunt. 

“Make us whole…” he begged, his voice a husky—almost pitiful—groan. 

“Make us whole again.”

Depraved as an animal, he ravaged her with the selfish degenerate intent of a man yearning to impregnate his mate. Though this union could result in nothing of that sort, still she thrashed against him in an archaic frenzy, her screams unfurling into the night as her body became enslaved to the same foolish wanton. Soon her trenches began to tighten around him in demand of his seed, and the whispering embers that smouldered in her womb had suddenly imploded into a wave of molten fire that scorched through her completely. 

It was in that moment when her cunt devoured him completely, when he felt her heat gush and hug around his shaft so longingly that his eyes glowed bright red, and his fangs flashed sharply before her dazed eyes. Even though she had seen this play out numerous, endless times, she couldn’t help but gasp as he lowered his mouth to her neck and drank her pleasure-tainted blood.

Eyes staring into the ceiling with shock, she trembled like a thing that was about to be shattered. The waves of her ecstasy ebbed away as Sherlock stole from whatever maw of force she had left. Black mists began to waft around her, blurring her sight and pulling her down below. And suddenly, she was limp and heavy at the same time while a cold, strange tingle jittered through her veins.

‘Death…’ she smiled with her eyes half-shut, ‘Oh, finally… Release me!’

Just then, a secondary implosion spasmed through her core and caused her entire body to jitter with delight as the sensation elicited from his bite was an unlikely aphrodisiac. Mouth agape in a silent cry, she threw her head back and stared through the open window while the monster inside her continued to feast on her throat.

The moon—it was covered in blood, painting the room in a crimson shade.

Lost in this trance, Sherlock hummed; the blood of a newly deflowered virgin was sweeter than ambrosia; after decades and aeons of searching, he could sense the wind on his skin, feel the thrum in his veins and abruptly… in a moment passing, he felt a rumble in his chest as his heart pumped once again. 

‘Make us whole.’

‘Make me whole.’

‘Make me feel alive again.’

Losing his control entirely, he thrusted into her with a few last powerful strokes and then finally lifted his head with a savage-like shout while his thick elixir overflowed her womb. Cum seeped around his cock at the same manner of the blood that trickled down his square chin. 

He licked the corner of his lip, eyes red and sated, peering down at his prey.

“Oh, my sweet little flower,” he murmured and carefully lowered his head to kiss her. She returned the kiss, uncertain if by choice, little did she care now. Her body still tingled and the taste of her own blood had an odd sweetness to it that had made her thirsty. Once he broke from her lips, she suckled them dry. 

Like petals plucked from a rose, she laid raw beneath him. Not dead. Not yet. Not ever. She no longer remembered her life before him, no longer remembered who she was. All she knew was that when she would wake the next day, it would be night again.

And he would return to claim her, again.

His fellow companions warned him of such abomination; it was dangerous to drink from his own kind, or so they claimed. It poisoned the mind and the body according to the myths, but whether it was true or not, Sherlock couldn’t bring himself to care. 

No matter the fashion, he came every night, drank from her veins, deflowered her and left. 

And every night, she woke up a virgin again, clueless as to who and what she was.

But Sherlock knew the one and only true answer. 

She was his.

For all eternity. 

[shelbgrey]

Next to me(Emmett Cullen)

Chapter 19: they're vampires y/n!

A/n: sorry this is short and pretty late.

Table of contents

My door slammed opened the next morning, jolting awake. “huh?” I said trying to control my pounding heart.

“they're vampires y/n!” Bella said coming into my room panicked. I gave her a strange look not fully awake.

“who are are vampires?” I asked. Bella grabed my shoulders setting me up in my bed. She shook me a bit. “Edward and Emmett!”

my brain literally went, 'oh yeah... They are vampires' I chuckled “you just got that?”

Bella's eyes widened and she let go of me making me fall back in my bed. “you knew?!”

I set up on my elbows and smirked. “remind me nerve to tell you a secret”

Bella sighed and looked out the window just as Emmett's jeep rolled up. I claimed out of bed and threw some clothes on for school. I jogged down the stairs as Emmett walked into the house.

“Sherlock cracked the case” I mumbled. Emmett's golden eyes widened.

“I won't say anything” Bella said hiding behind me. I rolled my eyes and moved out of the way. “yeah, you can't you aren't even supposed to know” Emmett said.

“she's knows” Bella said pointing to me. “that's different” I said.

Not wanting to reveal anything, Emmett took my hand and we walked outside to his jeep. Emmett rolled his eyes as he turned on the engine and drove to school.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“your gonna get an ear full from Bella today” I said to Edward as we walked to Geometry. He shrugged not really bothered.

“Alice had a vision last night, so I'm not surprised” he said handing me a math text book from the back shelf in the classroom.

“what are you gonna tell her?” I asked setting down at the table. “I don't know” he sighed.

“she bought this book in Port Angeles and she stayed up all night doing research...she has a pretty good idea about you” I mumbled.

Edward rolled his eyes as he got out the homework we did a couple of days ago. “you don't have to tell her anything, ya know” I mumbled.

“I don't want to lie to her... Emmett didn't lie to you” Edward mumbled. “I'm a different story, I knew from the start”

“dose bella know about the whole wolf thing?” he asked quietly. I shook my head no. “Owen doesn't either... He knows the leadgens, but he doesn't believe them”

“ms. Swan and Mr. Cullen, please pay attention this will be on your test next week” Mr. Booth said interrupting our conversation. Not wanting to cause trouble we shut up and communicated by passing notes to each other the rest of the class.

At lunch Bella was determined to get to the bottom of what ever my boyfriends Family was hiding. Me and Emmett sat down at the Cullen's lunch table getting ready to play uno with Jasper and Damon. Damon was determined to beat Emmett at this game of chance. As Emmett was shuffling the cards Bella came up behind Edward.

“we need to talk” he sighed and followed her out of the cafeteria. “hope do don't get Murdered!” I shouted.

Bella told me to shush like I was talking to her. Edward turned around and gave me a slight smile. We started the game and about five rounds(Damon won none) he was just bewildered. He had about 20 cards in his hands and he slammed his head on the table.

“I don't understand” he wined. I laughed once I threw my last card down, winning that round.

“do you think he's gonna tell her?” Rosalie asked getting annoyed with the subject at had. I shrugged as I dealed out cards for the next round. “I don't know, if he doesn't she's just gonna figure it for herself... She might not have much of a personality but she's a lot smarter than people give her credit for” I said.

After I got my cards I shifted so I was leaning my back in Emmett's massive bicep and I propped my feat on Edward's empty chair.

“do you want to come to the house this weekend?” Alice asked. I thought for a moment, making sure I didn't have anything going on. “Sure, Owen might have to tag along though... He doesn't like being left alone”

“that's perfect, Esme wants to meet him anyway” Alice smiled. I nodded as I placed a +4 card, making Jasper draw some cards.

Once it was Alice's turn she didn't do anything. She zoned out having a vision. “What did you see Alice?” Jasper asked setting his cards down.

“Bella knows... He told her everything” Alice said. Rosalie slammed her cards down making them slide acrossed the table. “everything?!”

“just what we are... Carlisle changing Esme and him... That's about it” Alice mumbled. “she asked about You and Emmett, but he said it was your job to explain” she said looking at me.

I sighed. “I don't even know what to tell her... Far as she's concerned I'm human” I said as I collected Rosalie's cards and handed them back.

“Edward is gonna want to bring her home... We should do something nice” Stefan suggest. Rosalie quickly shook her head at her brother-in-law. “absolutely not, let's not help her get attached”

“we could cook for her I guess... That's a normal human thing to do for people” Damon said. “ow” he suddenly growled and looked at Rosalie.

“don't encourage your brother” she said sternly.

“anyway... you want to study for our English test tonight?” I asked Emmett. He looked at me and smirked as he probably was thinking of something along the lines of not studying.

“at your place? Is your uncle gonna be home?” he asked cheekily. I shoved him playfully. “no, but Owen will be”

“shucks... But yeah we could study” he then flashed me another suggestive smirk. “I'm a great study buddy”

“keep it PG... We don't need any little Emmetts running around” Jasper joked.

Emmett snorted and chuckled. “like that would ever happen”

Even if it was a joke I now relized me and Emmett couldn't start a family of our own. Sure we could adopt, but I couldn’t have a child that was purely our creation. I thought about a little boy or girl with his smile and dimples. I questioned if the kid would be tall like Emmett or short like me, would the kid phase like me or be strong like Emmett.

I was thankful the Rosalie was the only one who noticed my sudden mood change. She gave me a soft smile and placed her hand on top of my free one, she gave it a comforting squees before the Bell rang.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“did I upset you at lunch today?” Emmett asked as he pulled out his English book from his bag. I turned away from my book shelf and gave him a confused look.

“what do you mean?” he sighed and put a pencil inside his text book so he wouldn't lose his place. “when Jasper said we didn't need any little mes running around... I said like that would ever happen... You looked upset and I didn't want to ask infront of everyone” Emmett explained.

I shrugged and took my spot next to him on my bed. “I hadn't really thought about kids honestly... I mean would love to be a mom”

Emmett looked down with remorse. I've seen him happy, exited, pissed, but I have yet to see any sadness in those golden eyes. “I'm sorry...”

I quickly shook my head and placed my hand on the side of his jaw. “don't be sorry” I turned his head so our eyes could meet.

“maybe in the future... When we're ready we could adopt or something... You don't have to be sorry about anything, I have you and that's all that matters”

He leaned forward and kissed me softly, he pulled away and rested his forehead on mine. “What did I do to deserve someone as amazing as you?”

I chuckled softly and nuzzled my nose against his. “I love you Em”

“I love you too” he smiled as he pulled me to his chest. After a moment of silence I slipped out of his arms and grabed his text book.

“okay, studding” I said getting comfortable between his legs and rested my back to his chest. He chuckled. “I honestly thought you were joking”

“unlike you I actually have to study and graduate” I joked. “I can just give you the awnsers, I've seen it all” he said closing the book.

I opened it back up. “that's cheating” I said opening it back up. “well your stuck with me the rest of eternity, so that means many centuries of more school so I doesn't matter” he said closing the text book yet again.

I sighed and threw my head back on his shoulder. “your not gonna let me study, are you?”

Me leaned down and kissed my forehead. “maybe later”

I playfully rolled my eyes and closed the book, so I could give him the attention he so desperately wanted.

[hauntedwitch04]

HALLOWEEN PARTY

Hi and welcome for the second edition of my halloween party. The first one was very liked, so I thought of making a new one this year. Hope you enjoy it.

Requests are open I Ask

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DAY 1: “Take my sweater, I love you and i don’t want you to transform into a popsicle” with Remus Lupin 

DAY 2: “You really did this for me?” "I made one for every single person I love, but your is the one I did first because you were the first I thought about." with Steve Harrington 

DAY 3: “Please kill that fucking spider” “Love, you know it’s fake right?” with Cassian 

DAY 4: “Eat some more soup, it will make you feel better. This is my James mother’s recipe.” “Fuck, love this is delicious.” with Sirius Black 

DAY 5: “I don’t need paradise, mine is right here with you, cooking a pie while you dance and sing an old rock song, dreaming about our future” with Dean Winchester 

DAY 6: “I got some leaves on my way here for you, they are really pretty” with Andrew Garfield 

DAY 7: “Love I swear if you light another candle our house may go on fire.” with Nyx Acheron 

DAY 8: “I have a skeleton in my closet.” “Everyone have them, love.” “No I mean literally” with James Potter 

DAY 9: “Did you really gift me an owl?” “You love the little one from Harry Potter, so i thought it would be a good gift.” with modern!Rhys 

DAY 10:  “Sweety, we are too old to play trick-or-treating.” “That’s a lie, you are never too old for it.” with Regulus Black 

DAY 11: “Look what I got from the shop down the street” “Another coat, seriously?” with Sam Winchester 

DAY 12:  “Your pumpkin is making heart eyes to mine.” with Eris Vanserra 

DAY 13:  “Oh my God, please save me from this ghost” “Love your Ghostbuster is coming” with Ben Barnes 

DAY 14: “Some friendships are like candles: they burn bright for a while and then they die because of a little wind.” with Azriel 

DAY 15: “There is someone there, you think we have to help him” “It’s a scarecrow” “I think I just had a heartache.” with Sirius Black 

DAY 16: “I love this oil lamp. How did you know it?” “I love you, and I know you, so I know you are into witchy things.” with Dean Winchester 

DAY 17: “Look mommy, a fox. Why are you crying mommy?” “Because it reminds me of your daddy.” with Eris Vanserra 

DAY 18: “You know we are not in a crime book right.” “Don’t ruin my moment. My time to be Sherlock Holmes has arrived.” with Sam Winchester 

DAY 19: “I’m not gonna watch another fucking horror movie with you” “Don’t worry darling, you have your hero by your side.” “Love, I don’t have to remind you that you are the one screaming the most right?” with Remus Lupin

DAY 20: “We are not gonna bring that black cat home.And don’t even try to make me the puppy eyes, this time won’t work. I’m over your spell witch.” with Nyx Acheron 

DAY 21: “What are these rocks?” “They are runes stones.” “Babe, since when you are a witch.” with Timothee Chamalet 

DAY 22: “We are not gonna watch Bride Corpse another time.” “You love that movie too, dont’ lie to me moose.” “Love, we already watched it like five times in two days!” with Sam Winchester 

DAY 23: “I never saw someone loving the moon like you do.” “You know what I love most about the moon? It reminds me of you, of your eyes.” with Rhys 

DAY 24: “Why are there three pumpkins? We always make pumpkin, one for you and one for me.” “Well I want to practice since, from next year we are gonna be three.” with Steve Harrington 

DAY 25: “Wow, what is that on your neck? Oh my god, it’s a bite! Did a vampire bite you? Are you going to be like Dracula? Oh my god, oh my God! That’s so cool!” “No man, another animal bit me: my girlfriend.” with Regulus Black 

DAY 26: “You are never gonna touch another drop of alcohol in front of me, you look possessed.” with James Potter

DAY 27: “Tell me a spooky story” “Love, if you don’t sleep another night because I scared you, your mum is gonna kill me.” with Cassian 

DAY 28: “Oh my god, you are bleeding!” “Love calms down, it's fake.” “You are a horrible person.” with Azriel 

DAY 29: “Boo!” “Fuck you” with Dean Winchester 

DAY 30: "Love, why are you crying?” “Neil didn’t deserve it.” “We already talked about this: you can’t watch that movie alone.” “But it’s one of my favorites.” with Remus Lupin

DAY 31: Halloween Party with College AU!Every fandom

[mrhyde-mrseek]

CLASSIC LIT MEN RANKED FROM LEAST TO MOST DATABLE (As Decided By A Lesbian)

•DRACULA - crusty old creep, absolutely horrid, ruined the lives of at least eight people, turned one of said people into a vampire and nearly turned another, Hollywood likes to ship him with Mina for reasons that I don’t understand because he ALMOST TURNED HER INTO A VAMPIRE THAT HER FRIENDS AND HUSBAND WOULD HAVE HAD TO KILL.

•DR. MOREAU - it’s been a hot minute since I last read the book, but the fact that he performs vivisections on wild animals to turn them into humans is fucked up on SO many levels.

•ERIK - murderer, stalker, would probably combust if shown any semblance of actual affection.

•CREATURE - made to be pretty but Victor fucked that up somehow, killed 3 people out of revenge, would also combust if shown any sort of real love.

•GRIFFIN - canonically buff & smart, but he’s also an egomaniac & self-admitted ass (there is textual evidence for that latter point) with a god complex who plotted a reign of terror so . . . maybe not the best choice.

•THE TELL-TALE HEART NARRATOR - yeah, he doesn’t need romance. He needs psychological help. Desperately. If murdering an old man because his glass eye creeped you out, hiding his body in the floor, then hallucinating his heart beating during a police interrogation isn’t a red flag, then I don’t know what is.

•JEKYLL/HYDE - on one hand, he’s a middle-aged chemist who represses every desire he has; on the other hand, he’s an Uncanny Valley-flavored criminal who beat a man to death with a cane, so you can’t really win with this one.

•ICHABOD CRANE - he’s not a bad person, and he is well-educated, he’s just less interested in an actual, committed romantic relationship and more interested in the money he’ll inherit from it.

•SHERLOCK HOLMES - he’s in the middle because I actually don’t think he’d make a bad boyfriend—he’d just be oblivious to the efforts of anyone who tried to make a move on him.

•VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN - like Griffin, he also has a god complex, but this twink somehow managed to make Robert Walton fall head-over-heels in love with him two seconds of seeing him freezing to death in the Arctic, so there has to be SOMETHING there.

•THE TIME TRAVELLER - he seems like a really sweet, passionate guy. He’d definitely ramble to you about his time machine. My only qualm is that we hardly see him interact with people (at least, people in this stage of evolution).

•JOHN WATSON - he’s kind, he’s supportive, he’s a badass, he’s canonically good-looking and charming (a feature that Holmes uses to their advantage multiple times in the stories), and he’s a doctor. He’s perfect.

[colormepurplex2]

ColorMePurplex2 Master List

Important notes

Genre Key: s (smut), a (angst), f (fluff), dd (dead dove), mm (contains some form of mxm content)

Rating: (regardless, this space is not for minors) G - general audience | PG - strong, suggestive language | PG-13 - frequent use of strong language, grittier subject matter | R - large amounts of vulgar language and adult references | MA - strictly for adults 18+

Relationships: my stories may feature sexual relationship variations between all genders. This is a LGTBQIA2S+ friendly space

DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to own any part of BTS. All members of BTS are faces and name claims for these stories. Every post is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgement, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in my works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

For a full, comprehensive list of each pairing/scenario please check the masterlists under each section.

OT7 Masterlist

▻ Souls of Seoul: Blood Bond (Ao3) (127k) - x f.Reader - Modern Fantasy/Thriller AU | RATED: MA | s, a, f, mm

▻ Souls of Seoul: The Rise And Fall (Ao3) (~93k, ongoing) - x f.Reader -  Modern Fantasy/Thriller AU | RATED: MA |  s, a, f, mm

▻ Fickle Flame (~66k, ongoing) - x OFC - A/B/O, Vampire/Hybrid, Dystopian AU | RATED: MA |  s, a, f, dd, mm

Kim Namjoon Masterlist

▻ Kaleidoscope (6k) - x f.Reader - Art/Music AU | RATED: MA |  s, f

Kim Seokjin Masterlist

▻ Your Guardian Angel (14k) - x f.Reader - Non-Idol, Roommates AU | RATED: MA | s, a, mild f

▻ Masks & Merlot (13k) - x f.Reader - Long-time pining, Non-Idol AU | RATED: MA | s, a

Min Yoongi Masterlist

▻ Work Hard, Play Harder (9k) - x f.Reader - College AU | RATED: MA | s, a

▻ Till Death Do Us Part (41k) - x f.Reader - Mafia AU | RATED: MA |  s, a, f

▻  Blood Bride (9k) - x f.Reader - Vampire AU | RATED: MA |  s

▻ Bump In The Night (12k) - x f.Reader - Monster Under The Bed AU | RATED: MA |  s, a

▻ Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop (8k) - x f.Reader - Coffee Shop/Art AU | RATED: MA |  s, f

Jung Hoseok Masterlist

▻ Box Of Chocolates (15k) - x f.Reader - Non-Idol, Exes to Lovers AU | RATED: MA | s, a, f

▻ Play With Fire (8k) - x f.Reader - Crime/Arsonist AU | RATED: MA | s, a

▻ The Stars In His Eyes...The Hate In Your Heart (18k) - x f.Reader - Non-Idol, Brother’s Best Friend AU | RATED: MA | a, s, mild f

Park Jimin Masterlist

▻  Pixie Dust - x f.Reader (8k) - Fantasy/Fairy AU | RATED: MA | s

▻  The Demon Is In The Details - x f.Reader (17k) - Crossroads Demon AU | RATED: MA | s, a

Kim Taehyung Masterlist

▻ Did It Hurt? (28k) - x f.Reader - Angels & Demons AU | RATED: MA | s, a

▻ In Memory of Him (~13k, ongoing) - x f.Reader - Non-Idol, Late Husband's Best Friend | RATED: MA | s, a, f

Jeon Jungkook Masterlist

▻ Make You Mine - x f.Reader (11k) - A/B/O AU | RATED: MA | a, s

▻  Chasing Shadows - x f.Reader (21k) - Sherlock Holmes Crime AU | RATED: MA | a, s

▻ On Wings of Mist & Memories (39k) - x f.Reader - High Fantasy/Dragons AU | RATED: MA | a, s, f

▻ Now I’m Yours (14k) (follow-up to Make You Mine) - x f.Reader - A/B/O AU | RATED: MA | a, s, mild f

▻ Shatter With Me (~46k, ongoing) - x f.Reader - Best Friend's Husband, Surrogacy AU | RATED: MA | a, s, mild f

Multi-Member x Reader/OC Masterlist

▻  Lights, Camera, Action - NAMJOON/JUNGKOOK (22k) - x f.Reader - Non-Idol/Art AU | RATED: MA | s, f, mm

▻  I Put A Spell On You - JIMIN & JUNGKOOK (9k) - x f.Reader - Witches/Demons/Vampires AU | RATED: MA | a, s, mild mm

▻  Dream For Us - HYUNG LINE (15k) - x f.Reader - Demi-Gods AU | RATED: MA | a, s

▻  Flowers Of Fate - YOONGI/JIMIN/NAMJOON/JUNGKOOK (56k) - x f.Reader - High Fantasy/Beltane/Fae AU | RATED: MA | a, s, f, mm

Member x Member Masterlist

▻  By The Fire With Care - SEOKJIN/TAEHYUNG (2.9k) - Non-Idol, PWP | RATED: MA | s, f

▻ Curse Of The Serpent - NAMJOON/JIMIN (12k) - Greek Mythology/Perseus x Medusa Retelling | RATED: MA | a, s

▻ As Fate Would Have It - YOONGI/JUNGKOOK (15k) - Reincarnation/Soulmates, Strangers to Lovers | RATED: MA | a, s, f

My writing may not be copied and posted or translated without my expressed permission. All of my work is cross-posted to Ao3 , Wattpad , and shared via Twitter. I do not post to any other site All rights reserved. 2020-24 ©ColorMePurplex2

[cherienymphe]

all of my writing explores dark themes such as non-consent, dubious-consent, and a/b/o subjects. if any of this offends you, this has been your warning!

➯ dividers by @firefly-graphics​ | @straywords​​​

➯ banner by me

『Homelander 』

『Ransom Drysdale 』  

『Chris Evans 』

None of Your Concern

Costars for a little over a year, Chris has always been protective of you in the cutthroat industry much like a father would be. However, when he learns that your boyfriend is even older than him, he realizes that his feelings might not be so familial after all

Need  to Know

Chris heard from a friend of a friend that that pussy was a 10 out of 10

…or the one where you’re shy and Chris gets curious.

『House of the Dragon』

『Coriolanus Snow』

A Caged Bird

Birds are best kept in a cage where one can see them…and where you know where they are at all times.

Everybody Knows That I’m A Good Girl, Officer

…and everybody knows. Everybody knows…that he fucks you.

『Geralt of Rivia 』

Late Bloomer

Geralt of Rivia saves you from more than just a werewolf attack. {alpha!Geralt}

『Sherlock Holmes 』

『Peter Ballard 』

My Lucifer Is Lonely

Peter is your comfort within these cold and sterile walls, and when they come crumbling down, they reveal the nightmare that lies inside.

『Walter DeVille』

Midnight Delights

So many maids have come and gone, but you seem to be the master’s favorite.

My Soul To Take

The search for your missing sister puts you right at Carfax Estate and in the clutches of the lord of the manor.

『Lucifer Morningstar 』

Promised

When you start waking up with bruises you can’t explain, your nightmares turn into a reality.

『Michael Gray 』

Gangsta’s Paradise

An agreement with the Peaky Blinders is almost a done deal...until you catch the eye of Michael Gray. You’re suddenly thrust into the equation, and your father must decide between losing everything or losing you.

『Steve Kemp 』

Sweet Tooth

The Kemps have always struck you as a little weird, but as their babysitter, you figured they didn’t pay you enough to make that your business.

『Damon Salvatore 』

Like Mother, Like Daughter

You never imagined that you would find solace in the bloodstained hands of a murderer.

Haunted

If you’d known that your ex-boyfriend was a vampire, you would’ve gotten a stake instead of a restraining order.

『Roman Godfrey』

Bite Marks & Bruises

Roman Godfrey is spoiled and arrogant and rude…and he gets whatever he wants.

『Stephen Bonnet 』

Bejeweled

Your journey to America is turned on its head when the captain of the ship wants both your mistress’ jewels…and her handmaiden, snatching both in a single night.

『Dune 』

There Will Be Blood

Knowing that you are too afraid to ever find yourself alone with the Harkonnen heir, Lady Margot secures his heart’s desire for his celebration day.

『Chris Evans 』

None of Your Concern

     ➥ Where you and Chris aren’t on the same page

     ➥ Where tensions increase

『Geralt of Rivia 』

Late Bloomer

   ➥  Character POV

『Michael Gray 』

Gangsta’s Paradise

     ➥ Character POV

     ➥ Where Michael has a close call

[seeingteacupsindragons]

YuuMori Remains Spoilers

It's nice to see Lestrade when he's useful and good at his job

Helena: This dude who is holding hostages has such a pure dark color like the inside of a cave, pure evil. William is like fire tho. Lotsa light there.

William: hey wait a minute

Helena: You need light to fight an animal in the dark. And the person who wears the color of fire is--

William: stop complimenting me

Liam has no shoes and has turned off all the light. Because, themes.

Jake: Referencing some weird literature about demons and atoms

Liam: Oooooh, you know Leibniz and Laplace, DO YOU LIKE MATH?

Liam why

I love when he gets all Scary Math Man

But also the fact that he's so into math he has to ask about this while hiding

Villain: No, are you a math geek?

Liam:

Liam: ...no?

(JK, he said yes)

Liam: Math 😍🥺

William stop talking about religion with the murderer

It's hard to read.

He will not

Fucking Herder knows echolocation apparently and taught the crew.

I googled this; apparently this is a real thing some blind people can do.

Liam talking about eyesight is just dripping irony rn

Can you imagine Liam being like "I know echolocation, it's fine!" when Sherlock's worrying over his eye, like, imagine Sherlock's face.

"Are you a fucking bat?"

Vampire Liam headcanons intesnify

Liam: Oh no, please just let me throw perfumes and booze at you, I'm so outnumbered and scared of dying it's not like it can hurt you uwahhhh

Me:

I can't with this

"Civilization is an extension of violence" I MEAN THAT'S A STATEMENT WITH A LOT TO CHEW ON THAT THIS SERIES DEFINITELY WON'T.

"If this continues, a weapon to attack someone in a foreign country with the push of a button might be developed"

Nevermind, YuuMori has entered the traditional anime "NUKES ARE BAD" lesson.

"That's an interesting prediction"

*wince*

Liam set everything on fire again

It's Symbolic because Liam double majored in theatre

"There's not even a single ray of light in the bottom of hell." Listen, this is something that really connects to a thousand other things, but mostly Liam is obnoxious

(I love him)

Patterson: What were you even trying to BUY?

Liam: Oh yeah I want to get all my friends gifts because it might be the last time I can

LIAM MY HEART

Liam: IDK, what do you want?

Patterson: A fucking VACATION.

Liam: fuck

[ohwhataniight]

more than the world can contain - Chapter 4: A Scandal in Belgravia

Part 2

J

If I had a therapist, she would note down yet another trigger in my list of traumas: swimming pools. The smell of chlorine. Semtex. Although I am fairly certain that having a phobia of deadly explosives should be considered the picture of good mental health. Anyway, I don't currently have a therapist. But, on second thought, maybe I should reconsider.

Because my flatmate is complete bonkers, and I have to deal with his antics every day.

I’ve only managed to get what feels like two hours of blissfully dreamless, uninterrupted, Xanax-induced sleep, after we return to Baker Street, before I wake up with a scream.

The reason I'm screaming is that Sherlock is awake and hovering over me, watching me sleep, his pale blue eyes glinting in the dark as the lights from the street catch them in their stride through the windows. He’s staring intensely at my face, brow furrowed, as if he's trying to decipher some code. He’s wearing a look I became acquainted to for the first time tonight: uncertainty, with an unusual tinge of vulnerability. Once again in this night that feels like a century, he looks much younger than he is.

“What on our-planet-that-orbits-the-sun are you doing?” I hear myself mumbling as I rub my eye with the heel of one hand, and even I’m surprised with my own eloquence at this ungodly time of the night, after a near-death experience. It’s then when I register the slight pressure of cold fingers on my other wrist. “Your hands are cold, you look like a vampire, you act like a vampire. Is there anything you need to tell me, Sherlock?”

“Nope, nothing,” he pops his p quite dramatically, drops my hand on the frame my bed rather gracelessly (this is going to bruise later) and throws himself up, walks away, silk blue robe swishing around him.

I sit up and my eyes slowly get accustomed to the darkness of the room. “Sherlock,” I demand, cutting him dead as his tracks by the door. “You were taking my pulse,” it sounds like an accusation. “In the middle of the night.”

“Nothing to worry about, all seems normal.”

“Yes, but why were you taking my pulse?”

“It’s for an experiment.”

I’m still faced with his back. “Listen,” I say. “There’s no need to be worried. I’m alive, and I'm home, thanks to an uncharacteristic stroke of luck. And, well, you.”

A breath hovers in the empty space between us for a second. “You've got your answer, John,” he eventually exhales, still refusing to turn around and face me. "Not the one you want, maybe, but definitely the one you need."

“What answer? Sherlock, why do you have to be all enigmatic? It’s bloody 3 in the morning, you’re allowed to take a break, y'know?” I stand up from my bed, barefoot on the carpetted floor, infuriated.

Finally, he turns around. Be careful what you wish for, Johnny, I think, because his gaze is burning through me. It's pretty intense, disarming. Especially considering everything that’s taken residence in my mind during the past couple of days.

“You have been wondering whether I am capable of human emotion for a while now. Whether I care,” he almost spits the word. “Well, John, tonight you have observed it’s in your best interests if I don’t. I hope that explains my usual... disposition. Now, go back to sleep. You are still in shock.”

“And you aren’t?”

He doesn’t respond. Just stares at me. Then, “why would I be?”

I take a few steps, closing the distance between us. My heart is thrumming like a caged bird and I want to extend my hand, touch him, comfort him. But this isn’t how Sherlock Holmes works. “We are all bound to lose people we care about in our lifetimes, Sherlock,” I eventually resort to say, realizing I’m feeling slightly dizzy - the shock, the benzo, his stare. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t. Care. I mean.”

More seconds pass. They eavesdrop, they dance in the room, its air thick with our scents (sleep, leather, upholstery, sweat, whiskey?) My flatmate remains unmoving, the bloody vampire. “Right,” he says eventually, before turning around again. “Goodnight, John.”

During the following days, we become... closer. It’s strange to observe, even stranger to feel. I find Sherlock doing our laundry one morning. It’s almost endearing, even though my white jumper is now bright pink after being washed with his aubergine shirt. He even makes me toast a couple of times, makes sure I’m always properly nourished. I don’t catch him checking my vitals again, to my slight disappointment, as I realize with a feeling of dread one day. But I remain feeling quite touched. If not a bit flattered.

Also, my blog is booming. He develops a habit of mocking my titles, but even though he’s the king of banter, I am the writer in this equation. I make him internet famous, he makes me tea. Deep down, I know we both like it.

One night about a week later, I’m at a medical conference in Dublin, I’ve had a couple of beers, and I’m flirting with a beautiful brunette. An oncologist. She’s brilliant and sexy. I think her name’s Sue? And then the facetime app on my phone starts ringing. I’ve been ignoring Sherlock’s increasingly urgent texts all night. They ranged from “John, are you up?” and “I need your insight on the comic book case” to “Pick up John it is a matter of life and death”.

“I’m sorry, I need to get this,” I sigh, and Sophia (?) looks frustrated. My knees wobbles as I try to stand up from the bar stool and it takes a while for my feet to get accustomed to the floor again. “What do you want?” I hiss at the camera after picking up.

“The printer, John, it’s all in the printer. I need you to find out the model of the printer, quickly.” He looks... naked, wrapped in a white sheet, in what seems like his bed. My flatmate texts me “u up” when I’m away, and then facetimes me from his bed in nothing but a sheet. No wonder people talk.

“I’ve met someone, Sherlock,” I whisper-shout, walking out of the pub and the cold Dublin air slaps me in the face. “It was going very well until you rudely interrupted us...”

“Don’t tell me you’re not in the least bit excited to hear my brilliant deductions, then write all about it in your little blog...”

“I’ve met someone, as I just told you. The world doesn’t revolve around you...”

“I don’t think that the world revolves around me,” he says, looking terribly offended. “Although admittedly it would make much more sense if it did...”

“Come on, Sherlock,” I chuckle at the camera. “I see how you dress, flamboyance is your middle name, and you love an audience. Need I remind you that my first role in your turbulent life was that of a skull on the mantelpiece?”

“You’ve evolved since then.”

I’m left gaping incredulously at the level of his audacity. “Well, ta.”

“Anyway, John, contrary to your assumptions about my person, and despite the fact that I still do think you would profit profoundly from an introduction to the joys of custom-tailored trousers, I don’t care what people think.”

I hear myself giggling in the middle of the pavement as people less drunk than I am pass by, chatting merrily. The buzz of the city makes me somewhat giddy too. “Prove it.”

“How?”

“Wear what you’re wearing now during our next case.”

“What do I get if I do that?”

“You see, you don't have the balls to do that...”

“What do I get?”

“My acknowledgment and utmost respect.”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Dull.”

“Okay, okay,” I chuckle again. “I’ll buy us dinner. Wherever you want.”

“Cafe Royal?”

“Cafe Royal.”

“Fine,” a wide smile spreads on his face. It’s endearing, really.

When I return inside, Susannah is unfortunately nowhere to be seen.

*

Sherlock, please tell me you’re not currently headed where I’ve just been informed I’m headed wearing that sheet. I was drunk last night when I dared you.

Reservation for two at the Cafe Royal at eight. See you soon. SH

And God save Her, of course. SH

To be continued...

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph, how are you lovely? Thank you again for everything you do for us! I'm sort of in the mood for fun Johnlock marijuana fics. John and Sherlock accidentally or not so accidentally getting high (and preferably naughty). I just finished lifeonmars' 'Smoke' and itching for more 🤭

Hi Nonny!

AHHHH okay I honestly don't think I HAVE any that I've read? If I do they'll be on one of my Drugs lists:

Self Harm, Danger Nights, and Drugs

Drugs and Drugging Pt 2

Drugs and Drugging Pt 3

I did a quick look on my MFL list and here is what showed up when I did a tag search... I haven't read them so I don't know if the drugs referenced IS pot/weed... If anyone has others that they can or would like to add, please do!

RECREATIONAL DRUG USE (MFLs)

Smoke by lifeonmars (T, 4,827 w., 1 Ch. || Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Fluff, Humour, Rock and Roll) – Sometimes time and space collide to show you something you've been missing. Sherlock's pipe helps.

Better Than by pandoras_chaos (E, 9,869 w. || Marijuana / Drug Use, Oral / Anal Sex, Awkwardness, Pining) – Mrs Hudson looked up at him and started giggling, seemingly unable to help herself as she clutched at her stomach and leaned back into the sofa cushions. Sherlock felt his face twitch, and he tried to contain the rumbling chuckles as they spilled forth from his throat, but it was useless. "The thing about John...?" she prompted after a few minutes of breathless laughter. "Ah! Yes," Sherlock sighed, reaching for the ashtray and collecting the expertly rolled joint, "The thing about John is..." he brought the lighter up to the end of the paper, took a drag and held it for a moment, feeling his chest expand with the fragrant smoke. "He's..." he exhaled long and low. "He's fucking brilliant." Mrs Hudson let loose a bark of high, girlish laughter. "You mean he's brilliant at fucking, dear," she corrected, reaching for the bag of crisps on the table. Sherlock felt his cheeks flush, but his face split into a sly grin. "I wouldn't know, Hudders." He sighed a bit wistfully, "I really wouldn't know."

Sit Pretty For Me by LipstickDaddy (E, 19,502 w., 10 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting Pre-S1, Recreational Drug Use, Light BDSM, Strangers to Lovers, Matchmaker Mike, Light Angst, Happy Ending) – What if John and Sherlock met once before, at an underground sex club, a decade before Mike Stamford introduced them that afternoon at Bart’s?

On Dates, Drugs, and Destiny by squire (T, 20,055 w., 3 Ch. || ASiP Divergence, Romance, Arranged Marriage, Crack, Humour, Fluff, Angst, Misunderstandings, Love Confessions, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Jealousy, Friends to Lovers, Courting, Drugs / Recreational Drug use, Case-Related Drug Use, Sherlock Being an Idiot, Meddling Mycroft) – When Sherlock Holmes and John Watson first meet in the lab at Bart's, it isn't actually for the first time. But why does only one of them know this - and should the other one keep the secret, or will revealing the truth ruin their friendship forever? A story of John being not Sherlock's date, of Sherlock being around way too much drugs, and a Destiny that always has to have the last word.

Heart on a String by AngelSpirit (E, 23,257 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate First Meeting, First Kiss / Time, Infidelity, Angst, Fluff, Kidlock/Teenlock, Mentions of Recreational Drug Use) – John and Sherlock got married with Cracker Jack rings when they were 7 yrs old. It wasn’t official, but for their whole lives they took it very seriously.

Gilded Cages by MaryLouLeach (E, 52,323 w., 21 Ch. || Supernatural Creatures AU || Rape/Non-Con, Graphic Violence, Suicide Attempt, Attempted Murder, Vampires and Werewolves, Blood Drinking, Slavery, Dom/Sub Undertones, Torture, Anal Sex, Turning, Recreational Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Dark Sherlock, Protective Mycroft, Possessive Sherlock, Bonding, War, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Angst, Child Abuse) – The vampire remained motionless in the dark of his prison; his eyes clasped shut as if he were sleeping. However Vampires didn’t sleep, or rather this one did not. Sleeping would bring dreams; dreams were solely a human condition, whereas nightmares, nightmares were what plagued the sleep of the immortal. Sherlock knew he was a monster, and even now in this hellish prison locked in the unfurnished room, he felt the darkness of soul start to fester. Pushing at him and all he wished to do was silence it, he needed his fix needed more. The last addict he fed on wasn’t enough. He needed more, needed to shut out the screaming that plagued him that weighed him down and kept him shackled to his hunger. Part 1 of the GILDED series

Your Many Tendencies Series by apliddell (T, 52,222+ w. across 5 works || WiP || Femlock, POC Characters, Enby Character, Sherlock’s Violin, YouTuber John, UST, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Slow Burn, Domesticity, Fluff, Recreational Drug Use, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock’s Past, First Kiss, Love Confessions, John’s Family, Christmas, Anxious Sherlock, Hurt / Comfort, Institutional Racism) – John Watson returns to London after a long absence, somewhat the worse for wear. She meets Sherlock Holmes, and starts feeling excited about life again.

Save Me or Let Me Drown by GubraithianFire (E, 72,986 w., 16 Ch. || Shameless AU || Dysfunctional Family, Alcoholism, Recreational Drug Use, Angst, Humour, Clubbing, Bipolar Disorder, Custody Battle, Mutual Pining, Family Fluff, Smut, Handcuffs, Anal Sex, Shower Sex, Rimming, Come Shot, Angst With Happy Ending) – How Sherlock escaped from his family, John sacrificed everything to his, and how, together, they built their own. Part 1 of the The Watsons series

Filthy/Gorgeous by MirabileLectu (E, 87,951 w., 12 Ch. || Prostitution, Alternate First Meeting, First Time, Recreational Drug Use, Drugs, Angst, Drama)– Even if this was legal, even if there was nothing technically wrong with what he was doing he knew that if he were caught, or if he were seen by someone he knew, or if he were found out in any way the shame would never, ever die. What would his regiment say? What would his family say? What would anyone say if they discovered that John was currently in a cab on the way to pick up a male prostitute for the evening?

To Light Another's Path by BeautifulFiction (E, 128,654 w., 19 Ch. || Post-TGG, Sick Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Drug Addiction / Recreational Drug Use, First Time / Kiss, Case Fic) – Teaching John to observe seems to be a losing battle, but when Sherlock falls ill and submits himself to John's care, will he realise that there is more to life than the science of deduction? Meanwhile, there is a murder to solve, and John must try and convince Sherlock not to sacrifice his own health for the sake of the case.

[filmnoirsbian]

Hi !! I was wondering if you had any book recs/favorite books? Things that you think of as inspiration or just plain like? Genuinely curious. <3 im in love with your work btw i spent the other day binging your patreon

Some favorites that deeply impacted me from a young age up into teenagedom: the Animorphs series by K. A. Applegate, Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein, Oddly Enough by Bruce Coville, The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Little Sister by Kara Dalkey, The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C. Wrede, The Tale of Desperaux by Kate DiCamillo, A Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket, The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander, Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury, the Septimus Heap series by Angie Sage, Piratica by Tanith Lee, the Inkheart series by Cornelia Funke, His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman, Holes by Louis Sachar, The View from Saturday by E. L. Konigsburg, Shizuko's Daughter by Kyoko Mori, The Sea-Wolf by Jack London, Walk Two Moons by Sharon Creech, Criss Cross by Lynne Rae Perkins, Everything on a Waffle by Polly Horvath, Surviving the Applewhites by Stephanie S. Tolan, The Last Book in the Universe by Rodman Philbrick, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle, Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg, The Iliad and Odyssey (allegedly) by Homer, The Táin by many people, Harlem by Walter Dean Myers, Esperanza Rising by Pam Muñoz Ryan, The Wall and the Wing by Laura Ruby, The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkein, The Hainish Cycle by Ursula K. Le Guin, Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis, The Ethical Vampire series by Susan Hubbard, The Howl Series by Diana Wynne Jones, the Curseworkers series by Holly Black, The Turn of the Screw by Henry James, Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater, Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep by Philip K. Dick, Android Karenina by Ben H. Winters, An Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson, Beloved by Toni Morrison, A Stir of Bones by Nina Kiriki Hoffman, the Mistborn series by Brandon Sanderson, Deathless by Catherynne M. Valente, World War Z by Max Brooks, This is Not A Drill by K. A. Holt, Fade to Blue by Sean Beaudoin, Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu, The Moth Diaries by Rachel Klein, Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman, Crush by Richard Siken, Hopscotch by Julio Cortázar, The Hunchback of Notre-Dame by Victor Hugo, Devotions by Mary Oliver, The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

Some favorites read more recently: The Expanse series by James S. A. Corey, Engine Summer by John Crowley, Lovecraft Country by Matt Ruff, The Princess Bride by William Goldman, Heart Berries by Terese Marie Mailhot, My Best Friend's Exorcism by Grady Hendrix, Reprieve by James Han Mattson, House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski, Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn, Kindred by Octavia Butler, Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi, Station Eleven by Emily St. John-Mandel, The Crown Ain't Worth Much by Hanif Abdurraqib, The Refrigerator Monologues by Catherynne M. Valente, Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata, Tender is the Flesh by Augustina Bazterrica, The Girl with All the Gifts by Mike Carey, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson, The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison, She had some horses by Joy Harjo, Bright Dead Things by Ada Limón, The King Must Die by Mary Renault, Books of Blood by Clive Barker, Rosemary's Baby by Ira Levin, Cassandra by Christa Wolfe

Plays: The Oresteia by Aeschylus, Electra by Sophocles, Los Reyes by Julio Cortázar, Angels in America by Tony Kushner, August: Osage County by Tracy Letts, The Bald Soprano by Eugène Ionesco, The Trojan Women by Euripides, Salome by Oscar Wilde, Girl on an Altar by Marina Carr, Fences by August Wilson, The Glass Menagerie by Tennessee Williams, M. Butterfly by David Henry Hwang, Our Town by Thornton Wilder, Sweeney Todd by Christopher Bond

Graphic novels: The Crow by James O'Barr, DMZ by Brian Wood and Riccardo Burchielli, Eternals (2021) by Kieron Gillen and Esad Ribić, Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons and John Higgins, My Favorite Thing is Monsters by Emil Ferris, Maus by Art Spiegelman, Tank Girl by Alan Martin and Jamie Hewlett, Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi, Through the Woods by Emily Carroll, Anya's Ghost by Vera Brosgol

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 20

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 19 🟣 Part 21

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: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI. P-in-v sex, fingering, angst, ongoing vampire shenanigans, more blood than we're used to... Mentions of a knife kink. Paranormal voyeurism... (I swear, regular tags and warnings just don't feel sufficient for this :') )

Word count: 4.7k (It's a long one)

A/N: Loving kisses, a successful date, a bitch, a good friend, a messy bite... I'd call this fluffy if it wasn't so... smutty.

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @ellethespaceunicorn @mis-lil-red @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie

“Mikey?” You threw the door open — and you should have known better. Your heart threatened to beat its way out of your chest at the sight before you. It was really just Mike, on his bed, phone in one hand, dick in the other. The scenario left very little to the imagination with regard to what he was doing…

Then you blinked, and all the evidence of what you’d run into vanished.

“Swe—” He stopped talking — again — and you felt your heart being crushed under the weight of that unfinished word. And this time you weren’t having any of it.

In a few steps, you closed the distance between you and the edge of the bed, where a disappointingly fully dressed Mike was sitting. “Sat it,” you said, putting your hands on either side of his face after hauling him to his feet. “Call me ‘Sweetcheeks’. Wrap your arms around me, hold me, look me right in the eye and say it.”

Despite your explicit and pressing demand, you were surprised when his arms snaked around your waist and he cleared his throat. “Sweetcheeks, I’ve been an idiot.”

“Yeah, well… what else is new?” you chuckled, and your heart jumped for joy when he joined you. Then, you looked at him: “We’re going out. Tonight. Dinner and a movie.”

“We can get burgers and head off to see Saw?” Of course he suggested a horror movie!

“You know I can’t sleep after watching scary movies, Mike,” you whispered.

“I know you can’t sleep alone,” he corrected you — and he was right. “I’ll protect you… Sweetcheeks.”

“Cool, it’s a date,” you said before giggling like a schoolgirl. At least the sound made Mike smile even wider. That was good, right?

“Dinner tonight, princess? I’m making chicken fried rice.” August pressed his lips to yours before you could answer.

“Sounds fantastic, August, but I’m going out. Mike and I are going on a date.” You tried to fight the smile off your face, but you just couldn’t manage.

August wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, peppering kisses along your jaw before dipping his head down to reach your neck. “You’re happy, princess. I like it when you are happy.”

“Even when you’re not the one making me happy?” Why? Why did you ask that?

“I do make you happy,” August said matter-of-factly. “In fact, I make you very happy.” He lifted you onto the kitchen counter, standing between your legs, which you wrapped around his waist.

In the middle of your passionate kiss, Sherlock stumbled into the kitchen.

“Good morning you two,” he said, his indifference to the scene in front of him evident in his voice.

You pushed against August’s shoulders so he would let you go, and hopped off the counter, stalking towards Sherlock in a few big, angry steps. It surprised you that he wrapped you in his arms and kissed you — quite firmly, and inappropriately for a communal area of the house. It also surprised you that he was quite cold to the touch.

“I heard you have a date with Mike tonight?” he asked with a kind smile. “A wonderful idea. May I request some time to feed before you leave?”

“Only of you don’t ask me so formally,” you snorted. “I love you, of course you can eat. You’re not filing a tax form!”

“Well, then,” he said, his smile growing more mischievous, “would my beautiful love accompany me to bed, please?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest when you heard him say those words, before realizing that you always retreated to his bedroom to feed. It had just become a thing you usually did in private. Not for anyone’s sake, but simply to take full advantage of the calming sensation you felt, and to really give yourself some alone time with your guys. This time would be no different. No different at all.

“Please, make yourself comfortable, darling,” he said kindly when you stepped into the room. “I will get you some tea, and… August?” Sherlock turned around before the door opened and indeed showed August, standing outside, holding a cup of tea in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He sighed, while Sherlock chuckled. “Thank you very much.”

August grumbled something unintelligible while rolling his eyes before turning on his heel and disappearing, leaving you and Sherlock to it.

You took the glass of water and drank it quickly, not because you hoped to get this over with as quickly as possible, but because you wanted to crawl into Sherlock’s arms as soon as you could.

You waited a few minutes, just laying on his bed, curled up in his embrace with your head resting on his chest, while gathering your thoughts as well as your courage. Then, you kissed him. It surprised you that he was so greedy in his reciprocation, to the point where he quickly took the lead in your little bout of passion, pinning you to the mattress, the weight of his body comfortably crushing your soul back into your body. Sometimes that was just necessary.

What did bother you, however, was the fact that he seemed to be having no physical reaction to your kiss whatsoever. Why the hell not?

His lips traveled from your mouth to your jaw, and eventually to your neck, where you felt his fangs scrape over your skin.

Of your four partners, Sherlock had the gentlest bite, and he took the most time when feeding — save for Mike when he had access to his preferred location. You’d once asked him why, and he had answered that throughout the years, he’d had to feed quickly for such a long time, that he refused to now that he no longer had to.

“Thank you, darling,” he said quietly when he was done making sure your wounds would heal.

“Why do you always say that?” You’d never asked him that before, you realized, even though you couldn’t remember any time he hadn’t said it.

“You let me bite you. You voluntarily allow me to wound you so that I may feed on your blood. Darling, if that is not something I should be thankful for…”

You sealed your mouth over his to stop him from talking, and when you retreated, he smiled. A tingly feeling ran all the way through your body as you looked deep into his eyes, and you opened your mouth to speak. To your surprise, Sherlock put his hand over your mouth, a serious look in his eyes. His pupils were dilated, you noticed. Strange…

“Whatever you say next, I will have to obey. Please choose your words with great care,” he said, his voice strained, as if he had great trouble speaking.

“Thank you for explaining,” you said hesitantly after Sherlock’s hand had disappeared. “Can we get to the snuggling part of the event, please?” You needed to feel his arms around you once again.

“Of course,” he spoke slowly, “your wish is quite literally my command.”

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” you asked when he was curled up around you, pulling you close. “I thought we’d made it past the excessive caregiving aftermath of the feeding?”

“We have. You hypnotized me,” he chuckled. “It will wear off.”

You turned around in his arms and looked at him. “I didn’t mean to do that,” you said. It was strange; you felt guilty about it in a way you had never felt guilty about gaining access to Mike’s gift, or August’s. You had grown to thoroughly enjoy Marshall’s…

“It’s because I have a choice. There is no passive side to this gift, other than that I have been told I can be excessively charismatic,” he said as though he could read your thoughts. He couldn’t, which meant they had to be displayed clearly on your face. “You get to share in their experience, and they are glad to let you do that. I, on the other hand…”

“You don’t like the gift?” you asked carefully, sending this was not a topic he enjoyed discussing.

“I abhor it. That time I used it on you haunts me, still. And you were right to admonish me over it. If I had seen any other option, please trust that I would have gone that route. I am terribly sorry.”

“But you use it for good,” you suggested in a feeble attempt to ease the pain in his eyes.

“There is nothing good about taking away consent and free will,” he sighed. “Although the interrogations do require a consent form, so I suppose… It still makes me quite uncomfortable at times.”

“Sherlock, please be honest with me,” you said pensively.

“I feel the need to remind you that I have no other choice, darling.”

“Is it okay, when this happens, if I ask you to tell me you love me?”

“Certainly,” he replied, a hint of amusement to his voice.

“Then tell me you love me,” you commanded as you rolled on top of him, straddling his hips.

“With all my heart, my darling,” he answered before pulling you down into a searing kiss.

“Omg, hey Mike!” Rose walked towards you, closely followed by Jenelle. “What are you two doing here?”

“Movie date,” Mike said with a big smile. Dinner had been awesome, and standing here with him, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, felt like an absolute dream. “What about you two?”

“J got stood up by her date,” Rose explained, “so I came to the rescue!”

“She was hot as hell, too,” Jenelle sighed. “Here.”

Mike let out a low whistle when he saw the photo on her phone screen. “Goddamn. Too bad Tits McGee clearly doesn’t have a brain.” He pulled Jenelle in for a hug. “You are way too pretty to be treated this way. Wait, I can say that, right, Sweetcheeks?” He turned too you, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yes, Mike, because you’d be right.” You weren’t going to be offended by Mike thinking J was pretty. She was, end of.

“Will you guys sit with us?” The movie had been out for a while, and there were only a handful of people in the lobby. Assigned seats, schmassigned seats.

“And listen to you guys making out all through the movie? No tha—ow! The fuck?” J had caught an elbow to the ribs from Rose, which didn’t go unnoticed by Mike. Mostly because J wasn’t exactly quiet about it, but still. Mike put two and two together unusually quickly.

“Alright, Sweetcheeks, how much do they know?” he asked, feigning annoyance.

“Just that you guys are working through something, nothing more.” J and Rose looked innocent. Or rather; they tried to. And failed.

“Everything, Mike,” you sighed. “They’re my best friends, and they know everything.”

“That’s okay, it’s all my fault anyway. We’re starting to… heal, I suppose.” It was sweet to hear Mike say it that way — and he was right, of course. “We haven’t kissed yet, though. So I wouldn’t worry about the making out part.” Even the oversharing was adorable, dammit…

He was right though; you spent the whole time staring at the screen — except when you snuggled into Mike’s side as well as you could (stupid chairs…) when things got scary. You did hold hands all the way through the film, though, which was really nice. You hadn’t really realized how much you’d missed his touch, even though he was fairly cold…

“Well that was horrible,” J said when you walked out of the theatre a few hours later.

“Are you kidding me?” Mike clearly disagreed. “That was great! Blood, gore, Jigsaw. And I got to hold my pretty girl again.”

“Oh, yeah, no, def,” Jenelle agreed with him. “Fabulous date movie. Horrible third-and-fourth-wheel-movie though. Rose?”

“Agreed, and can I just say that—”

“Out of my way.” A shoulder hit you from behind, sending you tumbling into Mike’s chest. “Right. Go snuggle with your bloodsucker, you vampire skank.”

“Bloodsuckers, plural, right?” You didn’t even know the girl who asked.

“Yeah, bitch has a whole harem. They snack on her.” Katie raised an eyebrow at you and smirked in a way that would put mean queen Regina George herself to shame.

“Oh my god, she’s literally a blood whore?” Again; who was that girl even?

“Listen, you might want to step the fuck off, you insufferable, miserable, narrow-minded, hillbilly cunt.” And she’d better listen, because Jenelle was about five seconds away from losing her shit.

“Fine. You’re not the kind of person I want to be seen with, anyway. You’ll get what you deserve,” she said as she turned around. “Just you wait.”

“She said what?” Now August was five seconds away from losing his shit, and even though Jenelle’s impressive five-eleven frame could be intimidating — especially considering she was taller than Mike if you added her afro to her height, which she always did.

“Jenelle dealt with it,” you said quickly, chuckling at the memory of the imposing law student using some impressive adjectives you couldn’t have come up with in a million years to put Katie in her place. It had been by far the most eloquent opprobrium you had ever heard in your entire life. No, you hadn’t known that word before you left for your date.

“She is an amazing friend,” Mike said. He was right. You could always count on her to stick up for you. Rose, too, but confrontation generally scared her. Jenelle grew up with four brothers, so…

“I wonder what Katie meant when she said I’d get what I deserve…” you pondered.

“You know we’d never let her get to you, right?” Marshall said before giving you a kiss on your forehead.

You nodded. “Yeah,” you said. “Mikey… Can we just go to sleep, please?”

It was strange to get into bed with him again, after weeks of practically avoiding each other, and it was no surprise that it took the two of you some time to figure out how you fit together at least somewhat comfortably — especially since Mike required some access to your neck. He hadn’t asked to feed, but you knew better.

“Go on,” you said, baring your neck to him when you’d finally settled in.

He looked at you, his face contorted into a strange grimace that told you he was uncomfortable with something…

“Are you sure, Sweetcheeks? I mean… I told you I’d go back to—” Without thinking, you kissed him. Hard — and so incredibly passionately that when you broke away, you were gasping for air.

“I’d rather die than have you feed off some…” Nope, that was not a nice thing to say about someone just doing their job. Try again. “You belong with me, Mikey. And…”

You fucking hypocrite. You’d made such a circus of making him call you ‘Sweetcheeks’ again, but there was something you hadn’t been able to tell him for weeks, too. It wasn’t just him. And it was time for you to bite the bullet.

“I love you, Mike,” you whispered, trailing your fingers over the side of his face. “And I’m incredibly glad we’re finding each other again. You can feel what I desire. If it’s anything other than you sinking your teeth into me…”

“Oh, there’s something else,” he mused. “But we’ll save that for later. I’m guessing no boobies?”

“Eh…” You considered it for a moment. “Let’s park that, for now? My neck is fine, though. But no more nonconsensual vampire marriages, Mike.” He didn’t need the warning — he was an idiot, not a jerk — but you couldn’t help yourself.

He had to flip you both over to be able to get to the side Sherlock hadn’t punctured that afternoon — seriously, sometimes you felt a little… used. You loved it, of course, but still.

Mike inhaled deeply, dragging the tip of his nose over your neck as he did, and sighed. “You smell so fucking good.”

For some reason, his words make your cheeks heat up.

“I thought I was going to go insane when Sherlock got to you this afternoon, I—”

Why did you feel the need to interrupt his confession — which no doubt was about to turn steamy soon — with your insecurities? “Could you tell what he desired?” The first rule for a peaceful life was still ‘don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to’, right?

“He wanted to be close to you, and he wanted to feed,” Mike said simply. Was that all? “Have you considered talking to him, Sweetcheeks?”

Okay, fine! Now that everyone in the house had pointed out that that was what you should do… maybe you should give it a go.

“Now, where was I?” Mike’s soft lips trailed over your skin, sometimes placing soft kisses that made you whine softly. “You’re so warm, you taste so sweet. Especially like this. All worked up and hot for me…”

“Mike, we shouldn’t…” And why the hell not? You were so innately attracted to this guy that it bordered on completely ridiculous, and he already knew you were dying to feel him again. On top of you. Behind you. Inside you.

“I can hear your heart beat faster for me,” he growled, his lips moving gently against the skin of your neck, “I can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks — and your pussy. Your body and mind are screaming for me, Sweetcheeks. Make no mistake, I’m screaming right back…” He ground his hips into you to prove it, and chuckled. His fingers tentatively dipped beneath the waistband of your pajama pants.

Your permission was silent, your response was not. Mike wasted no time slipping his hand into your panties and seeking out your clit, making you gasp.

You came so quickly you barely registered it.

“Fucking dripping…” Mike growled before nipping at your earlobe. “All for me, Sweetcheeks?”

You nodded, but it wasn’t enough. “Yes.” Still wasn’t enough for him. “Fuck… yes, baby, all for you.” You’d pay good money to have that smug grin wiped off his face.

He dipped his fingers into you with ease — he hadn’t exactly been lying when he pointed out you were soaked — and pulled his hand back, which surprised you. Then, he wrapped his hand around his cock, biting his lip as the slow, lazy strokes forced moans from his throat. You just looked at him — mostly with fascination, but also a bit of confusion.

“What? This is as close as I can get to feeling you directly on my skin,” he muttered. He was adorably out of breath.

“I’ve considered getting an IUD, but putting them in apparently hurts like a bitch and—”

“So take August.” Mike shrugged, not minding the interruption in your moment at all — and also still stroking himself, which you found both oddly amusing and very in-character.

“What?” you said, thinking you had some idea of what he was getting at, but wanting to verify it nonetheless.

“Take August,” he repeated, slightly louder than before, “I’m sure he won’t mind playing walking painkiller if it means he gets to fuck you raw.”

“Deal!” you heard from the other room, and you couldn’t help but laugh. Soon, the door opened. “Seriously, I didn’t quite catch what you were talking about but I’m game.”

“You help her deal with the pain of getting an IUD, we get to ditch condoms, everyone wins,” Mike summarized. “Now fuck off, I’m trying to get laid.”

“You’re way past trying,” you chuckled. “Goodbye, August.”

“Awh, you’re not going to let me watch?” he teased. Alright, semi-teased. You knew for a fact he’d love to watch.

Next to you, Mike grinned, meaning he’d caught the surge of desire that had flooded you for a moment as soon as the words had tumbled from August’s gorgeous lips. Not that there was any way they hadn’t heard your breath hitch or caught any of the other specs of evidence that the idea excited you more than it probably should.

“Best I can do is let you listen in,” Mike decided before gesturing at him to get out. August gave you a questioning look, and you nodded, another rush of heat washing over you as you thought about what this meant.

‘Treat her right’ were his parting words to Mike before he made his way, presumably to his own room.

“Mmh, you always do,” you hummed contently as Mike finally left his cock alone and focused on you again. He smiled as he plunged his fingers back into you, finding the right spot almost instantly. It was a cute smile; eyes twinkling, fangs out… you watched him with wide eyes as he bit down on his lip, piercing the skin.

“Oh,” he chuckled at his own mistake.

The little bead of blood formed slowly, and you watched it happen, until it got too big to be contained and rolled toward the outside of his lip. You rarely acted on an impulse so immediately — and you were fairly sure you’d never acted so impulsively that it even took Mike by surprise — but there was no fighting this urge to pull Mike closer and… you didn’t quite kiss him. That would have been one thing, but this was something else entirely. You licked the blood off his lip. And you didn’t stop there, no. You sucked his lip into your mouth while Mike let out a very loud moan. A suspiciously loud moan.

“You did not just...” There really was no need to finish that question. Mike was probably embarrassed enough as it…

“Yeah, I totally did, Sweetcheeks,” he said, grinning at you like he’d gone insane. “That hadn’t happened in at least three decades, babe. Fuck that was hot. Kinky. All that good stuff. Did you… was it… just… any good?”

“I’m mostly still in shock over what just happened.” And the fact that it had made Mike jizz in his pants.

“I kinda do want to run this by Sherlock,” he said to your surprise, “I mean… developing a sudden taste for the good stuff could mean you’re transitioning. It's not technically possible, because I know we’ve all been very diligent and responsible about our garlic, but it doesn’t hurt to have it checked out.”

“She’s not,” you heard from the other side of the door as footsteps — Sherlock’s footsteps — passed by the room and disappeared further into the hallway. “I would have noticed!”

“Settled?” Mike asked. You laughed in response. There was something incredibly funny about August’s earlier intrusion and this one by Sherlock, and the way it didn’t even ruin the mood.

“Settled. Just a… I’m going to call it an impulse, for now. I’m not sure if it’s a kink thing.” Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and they weren’t the only part of you that felt that way.

“God I hope it is!” Mike sighed as he snuggled up against you.

“What, so you can ruin another pair of pants?”

“Hey, fuck you!” He pouted at you, but you could see the grin lurking beneath.

“We were getting there, I believe.” You cocked an eyebrow and then Mike had finally had enough. For a second, he withdrew, pulling his t-shirt over his head, and then he pounced on you.

Your pajamas did not survive the carnage, and neither did his. He was hard, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Didn’t I tell you? Significantly reduced cool down time,” Marshall sounded in your head, making you laugh even louder. Mike looked at you, not asking the question he clearly wanted to.

“Marshall,” you clarified, before yelling at the man to butt the fuck out.

Mike managed to rip four condom wrappers open so enthusiastically that he ruined their contents as well, at which point you finally pointed at the intact, unwrapped, latex nuisance you were already holding. He didn’t hold still while you rolled it onto his cock, and he sure as hell didn’t wait so much as a second to drag your ass onto his thighs.

He pushed into you at the same time he bit you, and you squealed. Rough and eager Mikey was fun. He had been from the beginning of your relationship, and he was now, and he would be in the future — that endless future you suddenly had with him again. He crouched over you, using one hand to grasp your hip, the other to pin your wrists to the bed while he drank from your neck, impatient and greedy and messy.

He fucked into you with something almost resembling a tender kind of rage, caring enough to avoid hurting you, but rough enough to bring you to the edge with just his cock — not something he was usually good at, you had to admit.

He came up before he finished, his lips red from your blood, which trickled down his chin. For the first time ever, you saw your monster in those bright blue eyes. And you loved him even more. The final few brutal thrusts were accompanied by low growls and swearing, and you stared at his face intently, noting the mellowing of his gaze after he opened his eyes again. Watching Mike’s ‘coming’-face was incredible. It was a very raw, honest moment — and for a significant amount of bonus points: it looked absolutely ridiculous —and it was beautiful. Intimate. Connected to you in indescribable ways.

“Wow. Okay, ehm… babe I made a fucking mess, alright? Didn’t mean to do that. Very sorry. We gotta get cleaned up…” Of course, he beat you to the bathroom.

In the hallway, you ran into Marshall, and there was no way you’d ever be able to convince even a single hair on your head that this was somehow a coincidence. He had to have heard.

“I did,” he said, his voice hoarse and his words punctuated by quick, shallow breaths he drew in as he looked at you. “I tried to stay in my room, but…” He raked his eyes over your naked form over and over again, committing whatever it was that he saw to memory before abruptly turning around and disappearing into his bedroom.

In the bathroom, you got your first good look at what Mike had meant. He had made a mess. Which, in this case, meant that your neck looked like someone had ripped your throat out, your shoulder was covered in blood, and it slowly trickled down, over your chest, between your breasts… in your mind, you heard Marshall again.

‘I want to watch you bleed.’

Well… you wanted him to watch you bleed as well.

“Fair warning,” Mike said as he wrapped his arms around you from behind and he glanced at you in the mirror. “He likes to play with knives. It won’t scar as long as you don’t need stitches and he can… treat the wounds the way we usually do.” He grabbed a washcloth and began to clean you up as he explained.

“How do you even know?” you said, your eyes wide with some mix of terror and fascination.

“We told you we met somewhere in the late eighties, right? He met me because I hung out with a group of goths,” he said, and some shards of that conversation came flooding back to you. Something about Marshall screwing around with Mike’s ex… “There was a lot of mixing chemicals to dye hair, and piercing your own eyebrows with sewing needles. That kind of stuff.”

“And they went nuts for the whole vampire thing,” you said, remembering the conversation a little better now.

“Yeah,” Mike said. There was something suspiciously apologetic to his voice. “I did, too. I mean. I was human back then. Okay, long story short; Marshall had this friend, Serafine — probably not her real name, but who cares? — and we used to… hook up.”

“You did what we do,” you said. It wasn’t a question, and the guilty look on his face told you more than you needed to know. This happened in the late eighties. Three decades ago. You didn’t even know him. You weren’t even born! “I’m irrationally pissed about this, Mike.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he said. “But, ehm… why?”

“Because, Mike,” you said, slowly walking towards him, apparently scaring him enough that he backed up until he was standing against the wall. “You’re fucking mine.”

[sidekick-hero]

Hunter and Prey

Part 1, Part 2

Steve's life goes on as usual. Well, okay, not his life, because he's dead. His un-life goes on, or something. Semantics were never his thing.

He sleeps during the day and roams the streets of Hawkins at night, making sure to stay away from humans and vampires alike. He's not a big fan of either, so he keeps to himself. It sounds lonely when he says it like that, but he's a vampire. He has no soul to feel loneliness, or so they say.

It's a few weeks later that Steve sees him again.

The human is talking to another vampire, or more likely goading him, and tries to pull out his holy water gun again, but the vampire is too quick. Steve suspects that the other vampires in town must have heard about this trick by now. This one, Jason, if Steve remembers his name correctly, definitely has. Vampires are terrible gossips, he found out, something that not even death seems to cure in people.

The human's eyes widen in surprise as Jason pins him to the ground and he tries in vain to push the vampire off of him so he can crawl away, but he has no chance. It doesn't look good for him, but Steve has underestimated him before, and he is sure that the human must have another trick up his sleeve.

Jason smiles menacingly down at the human prey beneath him and Steve can tell that he thinks he has the upper hand by far. At any moment, the human will surprise them both. Steve holds his breath, even though he doesn't have to draw one at all, and waits for it, when Jason leans down and bares his fangs. Steve can hear the human's heart beating wildly in his chest, a panicky bird flapping against the bars of its cage, and he realizes that no, there's no trick.

Call it a soft heart (the other vampires definitely do), but Steve feels drawn to help him. He doesn't want to question it, he just chalks it up to his knowledge that this particular vampire is an asshole. That's what he tells himself as he jumps behind the vampire, puts both hands on his head, and twists. There's a loud snap, like someone stepping on a dry twig, and the vampire falls to the ground.

He's not dead. Or he is, but he's still undead. Goddamn semantics. What matters is that Steve knows that Jason is only out for a little while and that he will be pissed when he comes to again. He looks down at the human who's still lying on the ground, his chest heaving, and Steve can hear the blood rushing through his veins, can smell it. His fangs tingle.

They make eye contact and the human's eyebrows are furrowed, eyes still wide and pupils dilated with fear, but there's something else in his eyes too, something that looks a lot like curiosity.

Great, just what he needs, another human who wants to know shit about him. As if Dustin and his endless questions for Science, Steve weren't enough. He needs to nip this one in the bud.

“You got a sword or something?”

The human blinks at him, seemingly trying to shake himself out of his stupor. "What?"

Steve's eyebrows climb practically to his hairline and he rolls his eyes with a sarcastic look on his face before sweeping his hand in the general direction of the still unconscious Jason. "A sword? Y'know, sharp, pointy thing that can finish this?" Is this guy for real?

Still looking back at Steve, the guy pulls out a short blade, and Steve looks around to make sure no one is around to witness what he just did. What he is about to do.

His kind don't help hunters. Their literal job is to kill them. If one of the others found out, there would be a target on his back.

Steve turns back to the human, who is back on his feet and still looking at Steve with the same curiosity. It’s tinged with suspicion, his head tilted to the side, eyes scanning over him.

“You’re a vampire.”

Steve snorts. “No duh, Sherlock.”

"You just knocked out one of your own."

"Got it in one. Though it pains me to be associated with scum like him." He toes Jason's head none too gently before using his supernatural speed to grab the human's blade and sever Jason's head from the rest of his useless body before the human can even blink. Jason’s body crumbles to dust right before their eyes and Steve smirks. He likes showing off, sue him.

The human gapes at him, his hand closing around the air where the blade had been seconds ago, but quickly recovers. "What the fuck, dude? This doesn't make any sense. There's no such thing as a good vampire."

"Got that right too. Such a smart human. Want a treat?"

"Oh, look, he's funny. If you're a vampire, why would you help me?"

"I'm bored?"

They stare at each other, playing a weird game of undead chicken.

Instead of indulging this line of question further, Steve says, "You really need to have a backup plan, rookie. You almost ended up being Jason's breakfast."

“Jason?” Eddie asks, but then looks at the pile of ash on the ground. “Ah. Not a very cool vampire name. You guys don’t make up something better after…?” After gesturing to Steve Eddie brings his fingers up to mimic fangs. Steve scrunches his nose and shakes his head.

This conversation has already gone on too long for Steve’s comfort. “Okay, I’m out of here. Just - cover your ass better next time, okay? I’m not saving it again.”

“I don’t need you to save my ass.”

Steve looks down where Jason's body was moments ago. "Uh huh.”

“Hey, I had it handled,” Eddie bites out.

Steve snorts. “Whatever helps you sleep, rookie.”

“Stop calling me that. I’m not a rookie.”

Steve turns towards the human, eyeing him up and down. “I will when you stop acting like one.”

Before the human can answer, Steve leaves. He’s already stayed around far longer than he should have, and done far more than any vampire would for a human. Especially a hunter.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you @legitcookie for indulging in this weird new universe with me, for being the best writing soulmate a girl could wish for. And for always catching stupid plot holes lol 💜😘

And @yournowheregirl, thank you for being your funny, supportive, and giving self - you keep us going, being by reminding us to eat and sleep or getting us out of our funks.

[author-a-holmes]

10 Fandoms, 10 Characters

Thank you for the tag @morby

No rules attached to this one so I guess, just go for my faves (Without duplicating a fandom)... I feel like this is going to highlight at least one of my "types" but I guess I've outed myself on that front before rofl.

Tagging forward, with no pressure, to; @faelanvance, @cwritesfiction, @theunboundwriter, @arigalefantasynovels, @acertainmoshke, @avrablake, @ashen-crest, @sleepyowlwrites, @tisiphonewolfe, and anyone else who wants to play! <3

So, without further ado, my Favorite Characters in some of my favourite fandoms, in NO SPECIFIC ORDER...

One

Fandom; Doctor Who. Character; Doctor Who, Tenth Incarnation

David Tennant's run as The Doctor was my favourite. It was a magical combination of a phenomenal actor, a brilliant "companion", and A+ writing team, but it made me fall in love with the character as a whole. Smart, Intellligent, Alien, but also Vulnerable, and ineffably Human.

Two

Fandom; Marvel Cinematic Universe. Character; Tony Stark

And I do mean "Tony Stark", not "Iron Man". Don't get me wrong, Iron Man is cool, and is definitely my favourite Avenger, but it's because it's Tony Stark inside the suit. It's the intelligence of the character that, again, captivates me and as a writer I see so much potential there. If I wasn't so busy with my own writing projects I'd be very tempted to jump back into fandom again just to have a play with Tony Stark's possibilities.

Three

Fandom; Sherlock Holmes. Character; Sherlock

This one had to make the list considering my pen name! I've loved many of the Holmes adaptions, and but there's something specifically about Benedict Cumberbatch's Holmes where you can just see that brilliant mind ticking away behind his eyes.

Four

Fandom; The Mentalist Character; Patrick Jane

I thought the whole Mentalist story was phenomenal, and the backstory for the character of Patrick Jane, genuis. I also love how much Jane is aware that usually he's the smartest person in the room, but is also painfully aware when he's not.

Five

Fandom; Vincenzo Character; Vincenzo Cassano aka Park Joo-hyung

This is a newer addition to my list, and I've only seen the series once so my memory may be a little shaky, but this was another highly intelligent character. A little vicious, a little violent, but at heart also a good person, and I fell a little in love with the character every episode.

And now, let me pivot into my second "type"...

Six

Fandom; Lord of the Rings Character; Strider aka Aragorn son of Arathorn

The OG Fandom Fave, Lord of the Rings got me into fanfiction. I began my online writing career by writing a "10th Walker" fanfiction that never saw the light of day, because I've always found Arwen's character very frustrating. Then the films were released, and the rest is history. But give me Strider over the polished King Aragorn any day!

Seven

Fandom; Shadow and Bone (Netflix) Character; General Aleksander Kirigan aka The Darkling aka Aleksander Morozova

This one is a little more specific because I haven't read the books, so I have ZERO idea how accurate the series is to the original material, but Ben Barnes, specifically, as the Darkling is all my favourite things mixed up into one character. Smart, Intelligent, Damaged, Rough around the edges, In dire need of saving from himself. He's got it all.

Eight

Fandom; The 100 Character; Prince Roan of Azgeda

Another character that I feel had wasted potential! I think they could have done so much MORE with this character but, much like Shadow and Bone, I've not read the books! So it's possible Prince Roan had a bigger, better, for fulfilling part there than the TV Series.

Nine

Fandom; The Witcher Character; Geralt of Rivia

Look. I've loved Geralt forever. I loved him in the CDProjecktRed games. I bought the books, and loved him there, and then Henry Cavill went and made the 100% hands down perfect Geralt on screen. What more can I say?

Ten

Fandom; The Vampire Diaries/The Originals Character; Klaus Mikaelson

Is there a better example of a morally grey character? Not one I've found, to be honest. Klaus has a freaking tragic backstory, and it's completely twisted his worldview. Does he need a good smack upside he head to teach him that his methods are fucked? Absolutely. Does that make me love him any less? Absolutely not!