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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 3 months

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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.”

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blorbo-place · 6 months

Text

I WROTE A THING!

Practicing some one-shots set in the future of my story, set somewhere between the beginning and middle of it.

You don’t really need any info on the characters involved, except for the turtle bros, since this is just testing the waters and seeing how y’all like it.

Set in the future 2012 tmnt timeline, three turtle brothers take in a band of unruly kids and some domestic home life shenanigans ensue.

Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think

🐢 🔴 🐢 🟠 🐢 🟣

Bug being bugged

whhuh-BANG!!!

Mikey practically jumped out of his shell at the sound of the front door being slammed open so hard, it probably left a door shaped crater in the wall.

“I said I got. It,” one voice gritted out.

“If you had it then we wouldn’t have been swarmed! What would you have done if I hadn’t been there to sense them coming from a mile away, huh?!” another older voice shrieked.

Oh boy, it was gonna be that day.

As the bickering continued, a smaller voice called out, “Mooooom! The girls are fighting!” Followed by two angry “SHUT UP”s from said “girls”.

Mikey peered out around the threshold of the kitchen to see his big bro Donnie and one of the feisty younger mutants they took in several months ago fighting about pizza gods know what for the bazillionth time this week. A large brown bear carefully squeezed past the two former to make his way to the kitchen, crawling on all fours to avoid hitting the ceiling. Mikey stepped aside to let him through while a pair of twin rodents scurried under his legs and cut in front of him with several protests from the beast. “You guys wanna fill me in real quick?” Michaelangelo asked the trio.

The bear let out an exasperated sigh as he caught an apple one of the rats tossed his way. “So Grape juice and our sibling thought it would be a great idea to go searching into more ‘off limits’ areas for parts and scrap today.”

“Already sounding great,” the turtle rolled his eyes.

The bear snorted lightly. “Yeah, Raph’s not gonna be too happy about that part, but it gets worse.” Mikey made a face at that, and the twin rodents snickered through their munching.

“Y/n decided to go in by themselves because, you know, they’re hot shit and all that. But uh, yeah it didn’t go so well and we ended up digging straight into a mutipede’s nest.” He wiped away the excess juice dripping down his chin with a paw. “Remember sour worm candies?”

Mikey blinked in confusion. “Uhhh yeah, why???” The bear licked his chops, chuckling, “Imagine a bag full of the blue raspberry ones, except with hundreds of legs, and they’re about a foot long each, and there’s three hundred of them.”

“Terrible analogy, Scratch,” one of the rats snarked. “How about you come up with an analogy next time then if you think you’re so imaginative,” Scratch bit right back.

“I think I get the picture guys, thanks” Mikey held his hands up placatingly.

“WELL WE WOULDN’T HAVE HAD TO DEAL WITH IT IF YOU WEREN’T SO SET ON GETTING A REMOTE!”

All four of them winced at the new volume the argument was taking, the group taking quick glances at each other, silently asking who was gonna be the one to interrupt. The kid was as stubborn as a jackass, and Donnie even more so, especially as the years continued to stack on. Donnie had always been a bit of a hard shell since they were kids, but it felt like he was turning into a stale pizza puff that was left under the bed for too long. Take those two and put them together, and, well, bad things happen.

Creeeeak

Speaking of bad things…

“What the hell are ya two BITCHIN’ about?” a heavy Brooklyn accent growled from the balcony upstairs.

After a beat of silence, the two mutants started bickering over each other again, and Mikey took that opportunity to motion for the other three kids to scram to the back door through the living room, quickly jerking a thumb back and waving them away. They didn’t have to be told twice as they’d left faster than Mikey could eat a whole large pepperoni from the box.

“Your brother is a fucking hard ass about the way I do things-“

“HARD ASS- You LITERALLY dug the ENTIRE group a grave with the shit you pulled today!!”

Oh cheesus pizzas…

Mikey cautiously shuffled over the kitchen threshold into the entryway where the girls continued to try screeching louder than the other. Hopefully he could do some damage control before Raph ripped everyone’s heads off. Including his. He hasn’t even done anything! …Yet

The kid had crossed their arms and leaned back on one leg, seemingly unconcerned with what they pulled today. “Yeah well you were the one who told me to do it if you would be so kind as to recall that before you try throwing me under the bus,” they bit back. Donnie’s eyes widened and then narrowed in barely contained wrath as he opened his mouth to retort, but not before Mikey decided to step in before it got messy… er.

“Dudes, dudes, duuuudes let’s all chill out for a minute here,” Mikey stepped between the two with hands held up at both people. What was that dinosaur movie called again?

“Sounds like you’ve all had a really rough day today, and if we’re going to talk about this then maybe we should take a minute to br-“ His older brother smacked Mikey’s hand away- ow -and pointed accusingly at the younger mutant behind him. “NO! We’re discussing this NOW and I’m not leaving until your little pet project learns some manners and how to listen to orders!” Said kid snorted and uncrossed their arms, hands in pockets. “Well I, for one, like Wazowski’s suggestion. Getting away from your whiny ass sounds like a great idea,” they snickered as they nodded their head back towards the door and turned on their heel to leave where they came from. Donnie was physically shaking from their pent up anger about to snap, growling through grit teeth, “Ohhhh you little bug brained idiot I swear to St. Fuck I’m gonna-“ aaaaand then it got SO much worse when a harsh, guttural growl from upstairs sliced through the tension with ease.

Aw shell…

Mikey closed his eyes and winced, shoulders tensing in preparation for the next part. “No one is leaving until I’ve sorted out what’s goin on with the lot a’ya,” Raph hissed. “I didn’t even do anything man!” Mikey immediately protested. “Yet,” was Raph’s curt response. Damn…

“Raph,” Donnie sighed at a significantly lower volume, “The kid wasn’t listening to me the entire time-“ “THE KID was telling you your plan was nuts from the beginning!” the kid interrupted. Mikey could feel the frustration emanating from his brother upstairs.

“Dude it’s not polite to interrupt, you’ll get your tur-“

”Mikey go make sure the other guys are fine,” Mr. Bossy pants interrupted.

Mikey whipped around to look up at Raph. “The shell did I just say?” Mikey gawked at his brother, arms up in a mock shrug. Raph, leaning on the banister with his arms and fingers enlaced, gave a small shrug back.

“Don’t worry about this, I got it,” he spoke in a softer tone. Probably about as much an apology as Mikey would get, but he was still a petty brother, so he scrunched up his snout at the eldest before turning and walking to the back door through the kitchen.

As he turned the doorknob, he could hear some scuffling on the other side. “You dudes need to work on your ninja skills,” he snickered as he opened it. Three mutant hairballs sat on the steps outside, totally innocent of everything that could possibly exist. “Aaaand it’s rude to listen in on others’ conversations.”

“I dunno what you mean,” Scratch said nonchalantly, a tiny smirk creeping up his lips. “Uh huh,” Mikey responded, eyebrow raised. Taking the steps down and veering around the kids to face them, he put his hands on his hips and rocked on his feet. “While those three play house, who wants to brave feeding the chickens with me?”

All three groaned.

—————————————————————

#my writing #gremlin scrabbles #future 12!raph #future 12!donnie #future 12!mikey

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shoutaswhore · 2 years

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៚ BNHA

៚ ATTACK ON TITAN

៚ HAIKYUU

៚ STRANGER THINGS

៚ PSYCHO PASS

#* ੈ✩‧₊˚ ʰᵉᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ #°🟣 ~ front door #🗝.masterlists #🍥.my writing

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shoutaswhore · 2 years

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tobio x gn!reader • comforting you on your first day of work

#* ੈ✩‧₊˚ ʰᵉᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ #°🟣 ~ front door #🗝.masterlists

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shoutaswhore · 2 years

Text

soft dom!kogami x reader • link

#* ੈ✩‧₊˚ ʰᵉᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ #🗝.masterlists #°🟣 ~ front door #🍥.my writing

0 notes

shoutaswhore · 2 years

Text

eddie x fem!reader • nipple sucking

#* ੈ✩‧₊˚ ʰᵉᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ #°🟣 ~ front door #🗝.masterlists

0 notes

shoutaswhore · 2 years

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levi x gn!reader • "fuck you"

levi x female!reader • levi making you cry

#* ੈ✩‧₊˚ ʰᵉᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ #🗝.masterlists #°🟣 ~ front door #🍥.my writing

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 3 months

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Part 19

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 18 🟣 Part 20

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

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI. P-in-v sex, angst, ongoing vampire shenanigans, mentions of blood. Angst. And some angst.

Word count: 2750

A/N: So the grumpy vampire finally gets fucked. I hope you're all happy! (God knows I am...)

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

“I, eh…” Mike appeared in the doorway of your room, scratching his neck. “I need to feed.”

“Sure,” you said, dropping your book and gesturing at the floor next to your bed. He sat down, and you offered him your arm.

For the past weeks, Mike had been feeding exclusively from your wrist, and the tension between you these days was enough to clear the room when the others were home. They literally couldn’t stand to be around you. August had even confessed to occasionally having to sleep elsewhere, which tore you up more than you were willing to admit out loud.

Of course, as usual, you didn’t have to admit it out loud, which was more inconvenient now than it had ever been before.

“This was the last time,” Mike mumbled when he was done.

“What do you mean?” The way he said it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you felt a little queasy.

“I’m going back to the Bank,” he said quietly.

What? No! “Mike…”

“It’s alright, Sw—” He didn’t finish the word, just like he hadn’t finished it all the other times over the past few weeks when he’d wanted to use your old nickname. Every unfinished, broken ‘Sweetcheeks’ felt like a new scar on your heart.

“No, Mike, it’s not alright! I—” And just as he hadn’t been able to call you Sweetcheeks, you hadn’t been able to tell him that you loved him.

Without another word, and before you could stop him, he left your room. Not much later, you heard the front door fall shut, and you instinctively knew that it was him.

He’d be back — he was keeping his promise not to run away again — but he’d be in his own room, and you’d be in yours. Even during the day, you hardly spoke to each other, and you felt like a stranger in the apartment, even though nothing had changed between you and the other guys.

“Marshall?” you whispered quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. It was something you’d become quite good at over the past months.

“Yes, love?” He kneeled next to the bed and put a hand on your arm.

“I can’t take it anymore,” you said, a sob breaking your voice as tears welled up in your eyes. “I miss him so much, but it’s like I… I don’t feel the way about him that I did before, but I don’t know what I do feel, and…”

“Have you tried asking August?” Marshall replied.

Of course. How had you not thought of that?

“Tried asking me what, exactly?” August appeared in the doorway and walked towards the bed. Always bolder than Marshall, he took the liberty of getting in bed with you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Asking you how I feel about Mike,” you said with a chuckle that was still half-sob.

“Ah,” August replied, a hint of a smile in his voice, “you don’t feel the way about him that you did before…”

“Jackass,” Marshall said before you could.

“Easy,” August laughed. “I know you don’t have the same connection with him right now that you did before, or even the kind you have with us, and it’s throwing you off, because you miss it. But there’s still that… crush, if you will. I can guarantee you’re as in love with him as you were before.”

“I really hoped that would help,” you sighed when August finished, and you reached for Marshall’s sweater, pulling him in. “Get in here, you. I’m sad.”

You’d never been sure heaven existed, but if it did, you were sure it would feel a lot like being sandwiched between August and Walter. Four strong arms were wrapped around you, and neither of them seemed to mind when you put your freezing feet on their warm legs. Mike had never complained about that either, so maybe it was a vampire thing to not be bothered by the cold?

“It is,” Marshall whispered in your ear, “we barely even notice it.”

“What? That her feet are made of ice?” August snorted. “I’d say we notice; it just doesn’t bother us. The rest of you is a lot warmer.”

Your conversation was rudely interrupted by a phone buzzing, and August boldly retrieving it from his pocket, pinching your butt in the process.

“Sorry, princess, couldn’t help myself,” he said before kissing your cheek and disappearing from the room.

You buried your face in Marshall’s sweater and tried to move even closer to him, but that didn’t seem humanly possible. It made him chuckle, though, and he tightened his arms for a moment.

“Will you stay here?” you asked. Your voice was soft, and you couldn’t seem to look into his eyes.

“Absolutely,” he said, chuckling softly as you snuggled into his chest, slipping one hand into his sweater to play with the hair on his stomach. He put a hand over yours when you stopped. “Keep doing that, please, it’s nice.”

His words made you giggle. “Really?”

He hummed softly. “Yeah. Feels good, I don’t know why.”

“You know, I could touch more of you?” Where did that come from? An hour ago, you’d been crying because of Mike, and now… That being said, the new tension with Mike had done a fantastic job at masking the tension there still was between you and Marshall — because you still hadn’t slept with him, and you were still hoping that would happen sooner rather than later — but that didn’t mean that tension had been gone, or had even been any less intense than it had been before.

You’d spent a few nights together — sleeping, unfortunately — and you kissed him every day when he came home from work. And if you were already in bed by the time he got back, he found you to get his kiss anyway. Unless you were too busy screwing August — which had happened once or twice over the past few weeks. That said; you still hadn’t taken it all the way, and it bothered you more now than it had ever before. Why wouldn’t this man sleep with you, dammit?

Your internal tirade was interrupted when you felt Walter’s lips on your neck, teeth scraping gently against your skin — fangs out.

“Hungry?” you asked, but to your surprise, he denied that. “What is it? Tell me, please!”

He chuckled and tried to shrug it off, but you weren’t about to let him. What was he hiding from you? And how bad could it be, if he felt that he had to?

“Alright,” he finally sighed, “if you really want to know… I was wondering what it would feel like to… watch you…” His voice trailed off, and it didn’t look like he was going to finish that thought. Ever.

“Watch me what, Walter?” you asked sternly.

“Bleed,” he finally said, not looking you in the eye.

“Right,” you said, “August mentioned that way back when we were discussing vampire kinks… We haven’t even had sex.”

“I know,” he replied, a chuckle to his voice now that he realized you weren’t going to judge him for this.

“I’m not saying now, I’m just…”

You laughed — keeping the sound as gentle as you could manage, but it still made Marshall glare at you. Suddenly, your hands were pinned to the bed over your head.

“Are you sure you want to keep this up, love?” His eyes were kind, as was his smile, and in his voice you heard that familiar warmth — yet you trembled. He was strong and you were trapped beneath his body with no chance of escape… It was daunting — and it was fantastic.

You were almost disappointed when he let go of your wrists, even though it allowed you to drape your arms around his neck and pull him closer so you could kiss him. His lips moved against yours as gently as his bearded physique allowed, and with a slow swipe of your tongue you begged for entrance.

His hands moved slowly, carefully slipping beneath your sweater, exploring your skin — effortlessly undoing the clasp of your bra…

“Four centuries, love,” he said with a smile. “We’ve handled many a corset — these are nothing.” It took you a moment to realize he was speaking not only for himself, but for August too.

“I was hoping for an explanation along the lines of vampire-dexterity,” you sighed. “Shame.”

“Actually, the extra strength adds a challenge,” Walter mused while impatiently pulling at your sweater to persuade you to take it off — it worked flawlessly. “And your underwear isn’t even particularly flimsy.”

“That sounds like an insult?” you half-asked, half-noted.

“Oh, not at all!” He laughed. “Not as far as I’m concerned, anyway. But I doubt you even have to let August know your size… He’s been planning on getting you something he likes better.”

Well, you sure as hell weren’t going to stop him from doing that…

It was your turn now to impatiently pull at fabric until, in a split second, Walter’s sweater disappeared to God knows where, and you were left with the surprisingly pleasant feeling of coarse hair against your skin. When he moved his hips, you felt him press against you, hard and ready, and your body immediately reacted.

You needed him — a need that was flawlessly mirrored in his eyes.

“I can’t wait to have you,” he said, again with that gentle smile.

“Then don’t wait.” You were all for foreplay, but you were so ready for him and so incredibly impatient… You’d elaborate later; you weren’t exactly running out of time together, right?

All remaining clothes disappeared. You’d say ‘miraculously’, but it would be a lie, since you knew exactly what, who and how. Unlike Mike and August, though, Walter took care of protection with normal speed. It was much appreciated.

“It annoys you when they don’t,” Walter said unpromptedly — as unprompted as anything could be when the guy doing the speaking could tap into your thoughts.

“It really does,” you agreed. “So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he chuckled softly before kissing you again. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

You rolled your eyes at him, biting your tongue to keep yourself from saying something snarky. He didn’t deserve that.

“I’m just checking,” he said, pressing his lips to your neck as he lined himself up with your entrance.

For a moment, you were consumed with the sensation of your heart pounding, your blood rushing through your veins, and the tornado of butterflies in your stomach — not to mention the feeling of coarse hair and soft lips on your heated skin. Then, he pushed into you. It was slow and gentle, and…

“Fuck, that’s tight.” You couldn’t fight back the chuckle when the thought broke into your own completely uninvited — but nonetheless very, very welcome.

Blue eyes stared at you amusedly. “I caught something involving the word ‘massive’?”

Well, yes. You had to admit that he was not wrong there, and your thoughts had indeed veered that way for a moment when he filled you up.

“Well, you do have a massive dick,” you answered with a sweet smile. It was still strange to not say these words out loud.

“Thought you’d be used to those by now…” Cheeky bastard! You felt heat rise to your cheeks and you looked away, wishing you could kick him out of your brain for a moment.

“How the fuck do you…”

“Your fantasies are loud, love.” He punctuated the thought with a harsh thrust, knocking a moan out of you. “So are Mike and August, by the way. One more rerun of one of your escapades and I was definitely going to go insane…”

“Not…” You realized it wasn’t an appropriate question, but he was all over your thoughts. “Not Sherlock? Ever? He doesn’t think about me?”

“I really think you should talk to him, love. But I promise he thinks about you all the time.” He kissed you softly, then deepened the kiss — but since you had no need for your voice in this conversation, he simply continued: “And so do I, especially now that I know what this perfect pussy feels like.”

He rolled his hips, pushing himself deeper into you, and you whined as your brain waged war against itself trying to determine whether you wanted him to go harder or keep doing exactly what he was doing.

“I never thought he’d be so gentle.” The thought crossed your mind before you could stop it, and for a moment you felt embarrassed about it — until you remembered that you didn’t have to hide from him. He was yours. You were his.

“You are. And I am. Every part of me, yours forever.” His eyes were kind, as was the smile on his lips, and his movements stayed gentle even when he picked up the pace a little bit. Apart from the moans that escaped both of you in your unguarded moments, you were silent, not speaking a single word while you made love.

It was the first time — with one of your vampires, but possibly ever — that you’d gone about things this way. Even your very first time with Mike had been more of a loud, enthusiastic kink-fest than the slow and gentle session you were a part of now. Not to mention August, who probably wouldn’t do vanilla even if his life depended on it. This was sensual and lovely. This was something completely different than the second episode of Feral Walter you’d hoped to come across in bed some day sooner rather than later. This was also the kind of tempo vampire-stamina could keep up practically indefinitely.

“Technically, yes.” Sometimes you hated being right. “But I see you don’t have any firsthand experience yet with our significantly reduced cooldown time?”

He lifted you effortlessly and maneuvered you into his lap, never taking his cock out of you for so much as a moment.

“So, when you’re with another vampire,” you wondered, “how do you ever stop?”

“We have jobs,” he responded plainly, and you rolled your eyes.

“What if you have like… a vacation? Bank holiday? Just… No reason to get out of bed the next morning?”

“Last time, August just knocked on the door and told us it had been six days,” he remembered fondly, and slivers of a memory that definitely wasn’t yours flashed in your brain, “that did the trick.”

“Wow! You get pictures, too?” The experience was enough to get you to speak out loud, disturbing a little of the peace you’d come to cherish in the short time that had passed.

“You saw something?” He whispered the question, peppering your neck and throat with small kisses in between the words before sealing his lips over yours, engulfing your senses completely with the searing hot kiss. His tongue pushed impatiently past your lips, tangling with yours. Rough hands trailed over your back, fingers gently tracing your spine, making you shiver.

Walter chuckled. “I love it when you squeeze me like that.”

You struggled to break the kiss, but he eventually allowed you to retreat. “Just a flash.”

“You’re really good with this gift of mine.” He moved his lips back to meet yours, pulling you tighter against his chest.

“Wanna know what else I’m really good at?” you asked coyly while putting your hands on Walter’s shoulders and pushing him back onto the mattress.

“I think I’m open to you showing me,” he replied, a grin slowly spreading out over his face.

“Incredible,” he sighed when you finally collapsed next to him when your thighs gave out. You’d been riding him for God knows how long, and in that time, you’d cum twice on his cock, and he had seemed to have come no closer to finishing at all.

“Was it?” you sneered, leaving him to look surprise, until he caught onto the train of thought that took you from ‘he didn’t finish’ to ‘August and Mike do’ to ‘he must have not liked it’.

“Love, I’m fairly sure even you have at some point referred to Mike as a hedonistic little fuck, and August feels everything twice.” He sighed, giving you a very annoying, meaningful look.

“What do I have to do to finish you of?” you asked.

“I’ll happily pound you through the mattress sometime soon,” he answered with a smile as he pulled you into his chest. “Oh, and a good blowjob will do the trick.”

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year

Text

Part 10

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 9 🟣 Part 11

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

Warnings: Ongoing vampire shenanigans, mentions of blood, biting, throwing up.

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: I'm sorry I can't seem to help myself when it comes to putting these guys through horrible stuff... Anyway: Enjoy!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @teamfan7asy @mis-lil-red @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @livisss

“Mikey?” You closed the door behind you and turned the lights on. You’d learned the guys had a habit of keeping them off when you weren’t home, because they could see perfectly fine, anyway, so the fact that it was dark wasn’t an indication that the house was empty. In fact, you could hear music coming from Marshall’s room. “Guys?”

They should be able to hear you, what the hell was going on?

“Guys?” you asked again, a little louder this time, and you heard some movement. It was August who showed up in the hallway, looking like he’d seen better days.

“I’m fairly sure Marshall and Mike actually can’t hear you. Sherlock isn’t back from work yet.” He walked over to the kitchen and grabbed himself a glass of water. “Tea?”

You weren’t going to say no to that.

“Why can’t they hear me?” You watched as August made you a cup of tea and set it on the table in front of you. He stayed by the counter, casually leaning against it as if nothing was the matter.

“Garlic,” he said. Right. Mikey had mentioned something about it being time to feed. But you’d never noticed something like this before. They were a little out of it, sure, but never to the point where they were completely… unresponsive.

“This didn’t happen last time, did it?” You would have noticed, right?

“Some girl who works at the Bank – the, eh, place we feed – ended up transitioning, and until they figure out if it happened during a shift, or from another contact, they’re upping the dose. That’s why Sherlock is working overtime.”

“The Bank?” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s sort of a blood bank, and then there’s long lines, nothing to do, and you just want to get out of there the whole time you’re there.” Right, the similarities were uncanny. August sat down opposite you and buried his face in his hands. Without thinking, you reached across the table to put your hand on his arm. He was cold.

“It’s my turn, soon,” he said, “I’m getting a lovely little look into my future here.”

“When will they be feeling better?”

“Tomorrow, probably,” he answered. “They’re still going to feel out of it for a week – maybe even two – but they’re not going to be fighting the urge to hurl every second.”

“Why not just…” It seemed counterproductive to fight that feeling?

“And do what? Go back tomorrow? They’ll just fuck them up again. They’ll be worse off than they are now,” You stared at August with your mouth hanging wide open as he talked about it. “It’s like we told you: not exactly a nice restaurant experience.” Somewhere behind you, you heard the door to the bathroom slam shut. You looked at August.

“Mike,” he said. August got up from his chair almost unnecessarily slowly, and offered to go check on Mike, but you stopped him.

“I should go.” You got up from your chair and walked towards the bathroom.

“I really think you shouldn’t, princess,” August tried to warn you, but you were already gone.

You quietly pushed the door to the bathroom open to find a very sad pile of Mikey on the floor. For the first step into the room, you were alright, but as soon as you could actually see what was going on, you almost threw up yourself.

“Tried to warn you,” August said from behind you as he pulled you back into the hallway, “what did you think it was going to be?” He was right, of course, you should have expected to run into a whole lot of blood – you honestly couldn’t tell yourself what the hell else you’d expected him to be hacking up right now.

“I’m alright, Sweetcheeks,” Mike said, but it didn’t sound convincing at all. August laughed when you pointed that out, and told you that he already sounded significantly better than about an hour ago, when he’d come home. Mike couldn’t respond to that, because apparently, he wasn’t done yet.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! “ you heard him repeat softly whenever he wasn’t heaving.

“It’s no use holding back now, Mikey.” August took on the job you should be doing; sitting next to Mike, talking to him, telling him it was going to be fine. The only thing he wasn’t doing was stroking his hair – which would have looked weird as all hell, anyway, so you were glad he kept his hands to himself. He closed his eyes, and a look of complete concentration appeared on his face. After a few seconds, Mike relaxed a bit. It was probably August’s doing, but with how cold he’d been feeling, there was no way he’d keep that up for long.

“I’d ask if everyone is alright, if it weren’t such an utterly stupid question,” Sherlock said as he stepped into the hall. “Mike?” He asked when he saw you sitting outside the bathroom. You couldn’t speak, because you feared that opening your mouth would lead to very unfortunate situations of the same kind as the one Mike was going through – but more human – so you just nodded.

“Princess, you need to go. I’m having enough trouble keeping him sane, I don’t need you to make me feel sick, too.” Sherlock picked you up off the floor and helped you get to your room. It was a good thing you didn’t have a vampire-nose, because the further you moved away from the bathroom, the fainter the smell got, and the better you felt. Before you opened the door, you turned back to Sherlock.

“Sherlock, can we talk? In private?” He gestured at you to follow him to his room, and you gladly followed him.

“Can they hear us?” you asked when the door shut behind you. It’s not that you were going to be discussing government secrets or anything, but you really wanted to talk to Sherlock without anyone else overhearing your conversation.

“I’m fairly sure August is otherwise engaged, and Mike and Marshall are feeling so sick they’re hardly aware of their surroundings.” He let out a deep sigh before sitting down in his desk chair. “What did you want to talk about?”

You didn’t wait for Sherlock’s permission to sit down, and just dropped yourself on the edge of his bed.

“I want to talk about… an arrangement.” He didn’t seem surprised at all. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and smiled gently.

“It was a matter of time,” he said softly. “Is Mike okay with this?”

“Mike is puking his guts out because he’s being selfish and stubborn. And I doubt he wants to go through this again. The odds he’ll ask me instead of going back to feed tomorrow or the day after, are through the fucking roof. And I’m not planning on saying no. In fact, if he doesn’t ask, I’m more than likely to offer, and less than likely to take no for an answer.” Your voice was becoming stronger, something desperate seeping into it that you were vaguely ashamed of, and your breaths followed each other increasingly quickly.

“Calm down, darling,” Sherlock said as he sat down in front of you, putting a hand on each of your knees. The weight and warmth of them was comforting – though you noticed that he wasn’t necessarily of a well-fed temperature, either. He went on to explain that the panic you felt was completely normal: Mike’s stubbornness was even beginning to get on Sherlock’s nerves, and he was generally patient to a fault.

“He’s not just being selfish, he’s selling himself short, and it has finally come back to bite him, so to speak,” Sherlock said. It was a stronger statement than you’d ever expected to get from him. “His reasoning makes no sense, either. He says he loves you, which would logically mean that he would like to see that you’re taken care of. Yet he doesn’t seem to want to acknowledge what the four of us could do for you.” You told Sherlock he was going to have to explain that last bit.

“Again, I will try to structure this as much as I can, but I make no promises. I have a few recommendations, and a myriad of reasons for those recommendations,” he said as he moved back to his chair.

“And what do you recommend?” It was exactly why you’d come to talk to him, if you were being honest.

“First, I’d recommend thinking about what we’ll be asking. Do you remember?” The conversation you’d had about that was weeks ago at this point, so; no. You didn’t quite remember what it was that they wanted. Food, but other than that...

“Feed every two weeks, no abusing the protective reaction we have,” Sherlock said, “now, that may not sound like a lot, but you need to consider the implications.” That sounded very serious, and you had to admit that you hadn’t exactly considered what the implications might be.

“First of all, we’d be going from the culinary equivalent of doing your taxes, once every month, to… I can’t think of anything to compare it to, but it’s infinitely better, please believe me.” There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Sherlock was speaking the truth, to be honest. “You’d be saving us time, an incredible amount of frustration, the horrid feeling of the overdose of garlic, and quite a bit of money.”

“Money?” This was the first you’d ever heard of it saving any money… Of course, it made sense. The people who worked at the Bank – to use August’s words – had to be paid, too. And the boys chipped in quite a lot for the ungodly amounts of normal food they ate. Sherlock nodded as you voiced these thoughts, and then continued: “Exactly. The reason we eat so much, is because every last one of us tries to last as long as possible before feeding again. We don’t always manage to feed enough in one go to tide us over until the next feeding, sometimes other things come up… You saw what happened to Marshall last month.” Yeah, that wasn’t something you were going to forget anytime soon.

“So you see, despite the fact that it may seem like a small favor. I’d really like to remind you that it isn’t. Besides, you…” For a moment, Sherlock seemed unsure of how to finish that sentence.

“I’m tasty?” He smiled when you said it, telling you that your remark was spot-on.

“Well, at the risk of sounding incredibly insensitive, you really are.” His eyes went wide shortly after he finished his sentence. “As far as the taste of your blood is concerned, that is. I didn’t mean you were, I…” It was funny, seeing him this way, apologizing as if he’d just suggested the most outrageous thing on the planet.

“Don’t let Mike hear that, he’d be quick to disagree.” Your laughter seemed to be a signal for Sherlock that it was okay to stop apologizing. Instead, he laughed too. It was soft and polite, and incredibly attractive, for some reason. It wasn’t long before his tone turned serious again.

“I haven’t said this, but I really appreciate that you’ve been going out of your way not to hurt him.”

“Sherlock, I can’t protect him forever,” you said.

“You don’t have to. It’s not your responsibility.” Easier said than done… “I know you love him, and he loves you… He’s a grown man, darling. He may not be old for a vampire, but he’s old enough to know he’s being ridiculous.”

It was the first time you’d heard Sherlock speak out – explicitly – about what he thought of Mike’s attitude in the whole situation. You had always gotten the idea that he thought Mike wasn’t making a smart choice, but he’d never said as much. He sighed deeply.

“I don’t mean to choose sides, and I don’t want you to think I’m trying to sway this discussion one way or another.” He paused and shook his head while trying to arrange his thoughts. “I have nine hundred years of feeding behind me. Pleasant and unpleasant ones. I don’t think I need to tell you which ones are more abundant. Mike is used to what we have now. He doesn’t know any better… He wants to keep you to himself in every possible way. It’s going to be the cause of a lot of resentment.”

“It’s really going to tear you guys apart, isn’t it? Break up the family?” Sherlock didn’t quite nod, but the gesture he did make was clear enough. Yes, it would.

“There’s a strong possibility it will tear the two of you apart,” he said softly, “you were – quite literally – made for this. To deny you that would be… I don’t want to say cruel, but I can’t seem to think of a better suited word.

“Mike also hasn’t been alive long enough to see that…” For a moment, it seemed as if Sherlock was going to backtrack on even opening his mouth about that, and you raised your eyebrows to urge him quietly to go on. “Humans have a far greater capacity for love than most of you will allow yourselves to experience.”

“You’re suggesting I just date everyone in the house?” you whispered. Your voice was so low you could barely hear the words yourself, and judging from Sherlock’s soft chuckle, he had understood you perfectly. It was a challenge to keep your voice flat and free of the judgmental scoff that bounced around in your brain.

“I’m suggesting nothing of the sort,” Sherlock said. So he wasn’t outright suggesting you start a harem. Good. Comforting. “I’m merely suggesting you don’t close yourself off to the possibility.” Oh. No, he actually was suggesting just that… You were fairly sure that if you opened your eyes any further, they would fall out of their sockets.

“You think just screwing all of you is the solu-“ You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence, which was probably for the best, because your voice had gradually become louder as you went along with it.

“If you think that’s what I’m trying to say, then I suppose we’re done here, because that conversation is going nowhere, and I want no part in it.” Sherlock said. His tone was sharp, his eyes almost vicious. Part of you wanted to end your conversation right there, but another part – the part that eventually spoke up again – wanted to know what exactly he was suggesting.

“I’m suggesting you let the chips fall where they may,” Sherlock responded to your question. “Feeding itself isn’t an intimate act for us, I’m sure you’ve realized that by now. That said, we do all live in close proximity. We get along – usually. There’s a lot of potential for greater intimacy, especially since the four of us would be at your beck and call.” You looked at him, no doubt in complete bewilderment.

“The compulsion to take care of and protect you steadies over time. It would still peak after feeding, but it would be present, always. That doesn’t mean that intimacy would be of a romantic or sexual nature.” You almost choked on your own saliva when he said it – and so casually. “You and Mike have something special, we can all see that.” It was an interesting addition to his earlier remarks. ‘Mike and you have something special.’ What did that mean? It was enough for Sherlock to admit that none of the others would ever dream of jeopardizing it – at least not on purpose.

“Any further recommendations?” Despite his warning that your housemates might turn into your harem, you still really wanted to do this… Maybe not just because you felt compelled to feed them, but also a bit because you were hoping for the other thing?

Mike was still in the bathroom – you could hear him whine from time to time, August was exhausted, Marshall was effectively roofied beyond recognition, and Sherlock didn’t have a mental gift that allowed him to snoop around in your brain. For the first time since you moved in here, your thoughts and feelings were completely your own again. There was no need for feeble and ultimately unsuccessful attempts to hide them from anyone. No, you didn’t want things to drastically change between the five of you, but you assumed it was something you’d grow into. And there was no way you could keep living here and deny them the thing they were after – you know… your blood – because it was genuinely uncomfortable to watch them suffer every time. A radical third option would be moving out, but if you were honest to yourself, that was absolutely the last thing you wanted. You were attached to these guys. Even August, despite his being a dick – although that was steadily becoming less and less of an excuse as he slowly learned to behave.

Sherlock looked at you with a gentle smile. “I would certainly recommend scheduling the feeding. It can be flexible, of course. After all, that’s part of the appeal. However, try to avoid two of us feeding too closely together, to steer clear of… let’s say: territorial issues. Although I feel like we would be more than able to work those out, after so many years together.”

“Anything else?” “Not that I can think of right now,” he said. “Is there any information you need right now?”

“I don’t think so,” you replied. It wasn’t long before something popped into your head, though: “This mess right now…”

“I think you can set that straight by means of an exception,” Sherlock said. That was great news, because the whole vibe in the house was giving you the creeps right now. Mike and Marshall were suffering, and August and Sherlock were actively dreading their near future. It was almost painful to be home right now. You were more than glad you could help.

“Alright, and last but not least – and this may sound a little bit weird…” “I doubt it.” There it was again; that soft chuckle you occasionally heard from him that caused a weird storm in your stomach. It put you at ease and did exactly the opposite of that, all at the same time. In the end, however, there was no one you would have been able to ask this question without feeling silly. Sherlock never made you feel ridiculous no matter how strange you felt a question was.

“Can I give Mikey like… boyfriend privileges?”

“Are you trying to bribe him into this by making him feel special?” Sherlock laughed softly. “I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, by the way. And I’m fairly sure it would work flawlessly.”

“Not a bribe, per se, but something to make him stand out, yeah?”

“Darling, you can’t sway me on my position. It’s a bribe no matter how you dress it up. I just said I wasn’t opposed to the idea. We all need a little incentive sometimes.” Could he stop laughing so your brain could reboot? Please?

“Alright, fine. Just help me out, please?” You couldn’t help but laugh yourself.

“I could suggest an array of wildly in appropriate scenario’s,” Sherlock said with a devious smile. Your heart made a weird little jump you didn’t recognize. “But I’ll leave you with the knowledge that some of us – and I mean Mike – have a preference for feeding from the neck. Or the opportunity to feed whenever they feel like it. Let him have both.”

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