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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 10 months

Text

Part 17

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 16 🟣 Part 18

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: Ongoing vampire shenanigans, mentions of blood, biting, angst. Girl-gossip shenanigans.

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: I'm very sorry, @deandoesthingstome, but this chapter is exactly what you hate most 😂😂 That said... We need some girl-gossip up in this bitch. Enjoy!

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

“Hey, is that Professor Holmes?”

You followed Katie’s gaze to the side only to find that she was right: Sherlock was indeed in the cafeteria of your building, and he was walking towards the table where you and your friends were sitting. “It is,” you answered plainly.

“God, it’s a shame he’s no longer teaching here… I’d almost switch schools to take one of his classes, and that’s just because of that face.” Rose sighed.

Her remark made you chuckle. “You know he’s a vampire, right?” you noted amusedly. “He can hear you.”

Closer inspection of Sherlock’s face showed no sign that he had indeed heard what Rose had said, but there simply was no other option.

“Who cares, I bet the man knows he’s a whole damn meal,” Jenelle helpfully added.

“Mmm, fine dining,” Rose chuckled. “Aren’t you supposed to be a lesbian, J?”

“I have eyes,” Jenelle deadpanned.

“You guys,” you hissed angrily. The whole conversation was making you incredibly uncomfortable. You lived with Sherlock, for crying out loud. You were… involved with him.

His soft chuckle sounded behind you as a strong arm reached around you to put something on the table — a book. “Mike said you needed this,” he said kindly, “and I had an appointment on campus, anyway.” The fact that he skipped out on your usual ‘darling’ left you a little deflated. Of course, you’d never taken the time to discuss if you would take your slightly unorthodox relationship public…

“Oh, really?” you answered, trying hard to keep your nervousness out of your voice. “What kind of appointment?”

“I’m assisting in another plagiarism case,” he answered. “The school was able to replace me as a professor, but my other talents are significantly harder to come by.” His hand landed on your shoulder for hardly more than a second, and then it was gone again. “I will see you tonight, right? August is making pasta.”

“Yeah,” you said softly.

When Sherlock turned around to walk away, it stung. You wanted to hug him, instead of hiding your relationship — although you hadn’t actually ever defined what that relationship was, exactly. One look around the table at your friends told you they already knew there was something going on.

“Seriously?” Katie snapped when Sherlock had disappeared from the cafeteria. “You are cheating on Mike?”

Shit. Of course, you had considered that explaining your situation would be tough, but you hadn’t counted on Katie going full Queen of Judgement.

“I’m not…”

“Save it, bitch,” she hissed. “How could you? Mike is so cute and…”

“Katie, shut up,” you snapped. “I’m not cheating. Mike knows, he’s… he’s okay with it. And it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how, girl?” Jenelle asked, sounding a lot more calm than Katie.

“Alright,” you sighed, “can this stay between us?” The three nodded. We’re you really doing this? Jenelle worked at the Bank, she’d have no problems with this, but Katie… She grew up about as sheltered as you had, and your best guess was that her family wasn’t exactly more forgiving on the vampire stuff.

“I’m a natural,” you blurted out before you could talk yourself out of coming clean to your friends.

“Luxury vampire food, you mean?” Rose said, her eyes wide. “Girl, you can make a killing off that!”

“How would you know?” Katie asked, disdain very clear in her voice.

“Oh, don’t be a hick about it. My sister is one. She’s making fucking bank at some club downtown. She could probably het you an inter— oh my God!”

“What?” Jenelle asked. You didn’t respond.

“You’ve been paying for lunch, not as worried about your student loans… You are making money!” It was impossible to interject, because Rose and Jenelle started to chatter excitedly while the look of disbelief on Katie’s face only grew stronger.

And then she snapped.

“You’re some filthy fucking blood whore?” Right, there it was. She didn’t even wait for an answer — not that anything you could have told her would have calmed her down, because you were, by any definition of the word, a blood whore. Somehow, it stung a lot more now that Katie said it than it had when August had mentioned it.

“Katie, seriously?” Jenelle scoffed. “You know I feed vamps for a living, too, right?”

As she said it, Katie turned pale. “I didn’t,” she muttered quietly, and she began to gather her stuff. “I have to go.”

When she rushed out of the cafeteria, Rose and Jenelle looked at each other, and then at you.

“I guess her family values don’t quite line up with city life,” Rose said.

“With normal life, you mean?” Jenelle sneered, clearly not upset by what had just happened.

“Hey,” you replied, “take it easy, she’s…”

“A bitch, girl.” Rose rolled her eyes. “I know she’s a lot like you, and I know you bonded over leaving your small-town family behind and everything, but even you have to admit that you did a way better job adjusting than she ever did. She honest to God didn’t even try.”

You knew she was right, but it still felt wrong to talk about someone you’d considered one of your closest friends like this. Especially when she was being accused of being what you were, too: A small-town girl.

Then again, they weren’t wrong in saying you’d come a long way since then. In fact, you were absolutely certain that your parents would die of shock when they found out about your arrangement with your roommates. Actually, you were pretty sure they’d already keel over if they only heard you were living with four guys, regardless of whether or not they were vampires.

They also weren’t wrong in saying that Katie hadn’t exactly made the steps you had. Quite the contrary, if you had to admit it.

You sighed.

“Girl, tell us more,” Jenelle said, putting her hand on your arm and squeezing you lightly. “I take it there’s an arrangement of sorts with these hottie-hot-hot roommates of yours?”

“Up to and including Professor McDreamy?” Rose sighed, the look in her eyes revealing she’d trade places with you in a heartbeat.

You nodded. “Yep. I never thought it would be this intimate, though…”

“We’re ditching this lecture, aren’t we?” Rose asked, looking at Jenelle, who nodded.

“Girl we’re out of here. Come on.”

“Hold on, so you slept with Pornstache? I mean… Augustus, was it?”

“August,” you corrected Jenelle, “and… I mean it’s only happened once so far.”

“And the cop?” Rose butted in.

“Not yet…” Why were you having this conversation again?

“And the pretty professor?” Jenelle asked. You’d been wondering about that, actually. Because the truth, which you also told your friends, was, of course, that you and Sherlock hadn’t had sex, even though you spent the occasional night in his bed.

“Maybe he’s waiting for you to bring it up? He seems like that kind of guy,” Jenelle said when you had finished the story of your first kiss — leaving out the part about Mike running off for now — and the nights you had spent together.

“J, we don’t know him,” Rose laughed.

“No, she’s right. He’s that kind of guy. So sweet, so considerate… Very insistent I take my supplements.” The quizzical looks on your friends’ saves made you laugh. “He can tell when I need vitamins. As in… he can taste it. So he makes sure I take what I need… it’s…”

“God, I want someone to take care of me like that…” Rose sighed. Jenelle agreed with her.

You had to admit; it was nice to have someone look after you. And you had four someones, even.

“But like, Mike was okay with all that?” Jenelle asked, and you knew your hopes of leaving out the part about him running off were shattered.

The story left Jenelle and Rose speechless for a moment, and then Rose laughed. “Christ, he's adorable,” she snickered, “I feel so bad for him. No, really…”

“Oh, the impact that remark would make if you weren't cackling like a crazy witch,” Jenelle said.

“I'm sorry, it's just… On brand for him, somehow? Does that make sense?” It did. It really did.

“August would say that it's because Mike is just a baby,” you blurted out before you were able to really think it through.

“Yeah, wait, how old are these guys?” Of course Jenelle asked the question you'd been dreading.

“Eh… Mike was born in the sixties, if I recall correctly. August and Marshall are four hundred years old, give or take, and Sherlock just under nine hundred years.” Was it just you or was it hot in here all of a sudden?

“Hm…” Yeah. Hmm. That sounded about right — you hadn't really worked out how to deal with that information yet, either.

“How old were they when they were turned?” Rose asked, making you instantly worried about something you had somehow failed to consider at all.

“God… I don't even know,” you muttered.

“You never asked?” Jenelle couldn't wrap her head around that. “How could you not ask?”

“It didn't really matter…”

“It doesn't matter,” Rose said matter-of-factly, “but I still want to know.” Ah. Rose's curiosity was the bane of your existence from time to time — and the reason for some of the better conversations you'd had with her.

“Mike was in his early twenties, I believe. And I'm guessing Sherlock and August are in their late thirties, early forties. Marshall… Mid-thirties, I think? I honestly don't know!” And you cursed yourself for it.

“It doesn't really matter. Their legal documents have their original birthdates on them, anyway,” Jenelle pointed out. “I used to work the desk at the Bank before I decided to give feeding a shot.”

“I know Sherlock doesn't have one. His driver’s license says ‘ADB’,” you remembered. Rose gave you a questioning look.

“Approximate date of birth,” Jenelle explained, although that didn't seem to make it much clearer.

“Legislation changed so many times during his life, and he's had to hide and lie about his age and pretend to be human and whatnot… He genuinely doesn't remember when he was born, exactly,” you clarified.

“Years and days are often just an estimate, even if you only go back about a century,” Jenelle added.

“It sounds horrible to not know when you were born,” Rose said quietly, a worried look on her face.

“I know the guys don't mind much… They're mostly glad they can feed legally,” you muttered.

“They must be really happy they ran into you,” Jenelle said with a wink. “I hear these arrangements are kinda rare, like… people pay top dollar to be a part of one.”

There was a question somewhere in that statement, and it was easy enough to tell what it was, exactly; what's the deal?

“Yeah…” You hesitated. You'd barely come to terms with the agreement yourself. Sharing it was something else entirely.

“You know you can trust us, right?” Rose said. She was at least as curious as Jenelle.

“Yeah, it's just… It's a lot, okay? Basically I don't pay rent and utilities, and I get… let's call it an allowance. Please don't make me tell you how much that is. It's basically a very generous grocery budget, that's all I'm gonna say about that.”

Your cheeks were burning and you couldn't keep your hands from trembling as you waited for your friends' reactions to what you'd just told them.

They were silent for a beat, and then Rose squealed. “Girl, oh my God, that's amazing! I'm so happy for you!”

She meant it — as did Jenelle, who furiously nodded in agreement of what Rose had just said.

“Truth be told,” you said. Now that you were fessing up anyway, there was something you had to get off your chest. “I'd do it for free.”

“No way,” Jenelle said, “I've had shifts where the drip — like, the painkiller chemicals — didn't take well, and I swear I wanted to die after the third or so client.”

“But you're not a natural,” Rose replied. “My sister told me it feels good.”

“Oh, it does,” you blurted out, “it really does. They could feed on me all day and I'd be so perfectly happy! Mike even…” No. That was… It wasn't that you'd never shared any intimate details about your sex life with Rose and J, but this…

“Mike even what?” The girls said in unison, and you wished you could disappear.

“God, alright, eh… He likes to drag it out.” You shrugged. As far as you were concerned, that was plenty of information for them. They disagreed.

“Bitch, I sw-"

“Alright, alright,” you shushed Rose, who seemed to calm down — but looks can be deceiving, especially in very tiny, copper-curled physics students. As far as you'd experienced, at least.

“Mike one hundred percent feeds during sex,” Jenelle said indifferently. You hated how spot-on she was.

“Yup,” you said. “And remember how fond he is of, eh…”

“Boobies,” Jenelle sighed — it was just about the only trait she and Mike had in common. “Wait…” She snapped her head in your direction, her eyes wide. “You mean he… Really?”

Why did this even surprise her?

“Oh, that adorable little freak,” Rose chuckled.

“Never tell him — or anyone else — that I told you this!” you said, mild panic clear in your voice. “Swear on your life!”

“Jeez, chill!” Jenelle snorted. “Like we'd ever do that? Ain't none of my business that he wants to suck on your tits.”

“What does that feel like?” Rose asked. How would you even begin to explain that?

Despite being unsure you'd be able to do it justice, you decided to give it a shot, anyway. You’d made it too far into this conversation to back down now. Besides, it was nice to finally be able to talk about this with your closest friends. Minus Katie — which was probably for the best.

“The feeding itself already feels like a warm bath… I mean, the bite is more sensitive, but other than that, it's pretty much the same. It's his reaction that makes it so good. A few nights ago he got so snuggly — he'd had a rough day and he was very hyper and all over the place, but as soon as he was curled up next to me, he calmed down.” You could tell from the look on her face that Jenelle had a hard time picturing Mike in any kind of way that could be described as calm. “Really! And he has this gift…”

“I can't believe we never asked you about that!” Rose interrupted. “Do they all have one?”

“They do. I'll get to that, okay?” you promised before continuing: “Anyway, Mike has this gift. He senses desires.” Rose's eyes went wide for just a moment, but you happened to catch it. “What?”

“Okay so, hypothetically, if at some point I thought about…” It didn't take a genius to figure out where this was going.

“Yeah. There’s a very good chance he caught that. Marshall is worse, though. He straight-up reads minds.”

Rose stared at you wide-eyed. “Well, it’s good to know I can never show my face at your place again.”

“Eh, you're fine,” you said. “A-ny-way, they warned me that after a while, there was a chance they'd kind of ‘share’ those gifts with me while they were feeding, meaning I get to feel what Mike desires, and… It went beyond wanting. He needed me. It was…” A single tear rolled down your cheek, taking you by surprise. “I love him so much.”

Jenelle wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you close. “Girl, quit playin'. You love all of them, it's so obvious, seriously.”

“I really do,” you sighed. “This whole thing feels like home. It feels like forever.”

“But babe, you're not going to be around forever,” Rose said carefully. The thought had crossed your mind before, and every time it did, it made you feel queasy.

“You know,” you whispered, “I’m not so sure about that.”

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joelslegalwhre · 2 years

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I can help

pairing⁀➷ geralt of rivia x fem!reader

word count⁀➷ 1.3k

summary⁀➷ Much to your fathers disliking, you not only serve a Witcher in his tavern, but you also leave with Geralt to find his child of surprise.

warnings⁀➷ people being mean to geralt and reader, soft!geralt, swearing, making out, kind of ‚fast pace' relationship, not a good father daughter relationship

a/n⁀➷ is the relationship of geralt and reader a little fast pace? definitely but we don’t care lmao (if I missed a warning let me know pls!)

sorry the ‘read more’ is still not working properly

The tavern fell silent as a tall man entered. His features were covered by the large hood that he had pulled deep into his face, but you could see the white, almost silver, hair that peeked out of it. The smell he wore told you everything you needed to know. Everyone knew who he was - a Witcher.

Geralt of Rivia, the butcher of Blaviken as some called him.

He took off his hood, revealing his amber eyes. It almost looked as if they were glowing. He came to the bar and sat down on one of the stools. The Witcher barely looked at you as he slid a coin to you and silently stared at the wood. You took the coin and placed a mug full of fresh ale in front of him.

"I don't serve witchers in my tavern, Y/N. That son of a bitch should find another place!"

Your father spoke loudly as he approached you.

"You don't, I do. He pays, just like the others."

Your dry reply made the Witcher raise his head. He looked at you. Studied you. You could feel his gaze on you like it was burning into your skin.

Your father stood before you, enraged, staring at you, then turning his attention to his unwanted guest.

He was about to open his mouth to speak, but you interrupted him.

"One of the men back there asked for you. I'll take care of the rest."

The Witcher raised an eyebrow as he watched the whole scene from up close. You turned back to him, ignoring your father who, fortunately for you, only walked away in a huff.

"Can I get you anything else?"

As if nothing had happened, Geralt thought, and had to strongly suppress a grin. Much to his astonishment.

He wordlessly slipped you another coin.

And again you gave him a new jug in return. Curiously, you leaned your arms against the counter and looked at him. "Geralt of Rivia, right?" He looked up from his drink and eyed you again. "Mhm." was all he said.

"I heard you're looking for your child of surprise." His gaze was still fixed on you, something that wasn't entirely unpleasant. "I can help."

Geralt breathed out a laugh, tilted his head, and with a slow flutter of his eyelashes, looked directly into your eyes. "You?"

"Of course, it could all be a rumour, but I heard that a woman took in a young girl just a few days ago. Not far from here." He was still staring at you through his Witcher eyes.

"I know her, I can show you the way."

Still no movement from him. But it didn't surprise you, it was no special behaviour for his kind.

You still didn't give in and stared back.

Geralt knew it wouldn't be smart to take you with him.

You could already distract him too easily, make him forget what he had been trained all his life. But you were the first real clue to Cirilla of Cintra in weeks.

"How long will it take to get there?" he asked in a low voice that made your legs go soft.

"By horse, about three days."

The Witcher looked at his jug again, and his gaze lingered on it for a moment. Without you, he wouldn't get any further either, he had to try it at least.

"All right, then." he grumbled.

A grin formed on your lips.

As Geralt made a move to leave, you stopped him. "Oh no, you need sleep first. You look like you haven't slept in days. And a bath won't do you any harm either."

Your determination surprised him, and for a brief moment he wanted to go on looking for his child of surprise without you.

But you were right. He hadn't slept properly for days. The nightmares that plagued him made it impossible.

But he could accept a bath. Since he had killed that Kikimora, he stank of guts and blood.

„Mhm. All right.”

With a grin, you approached him, only to walk past him. "This way." You could feel Geralt's gaze on your body, as you had earlier. But now it was stronger, almost impossible to ignore. Goosebumps spread up your arms. His tall, broad figure towered over you as he followed you.

Geralt felt the eyes of the people and your father on the two of you as you disappeared into one of the doorways that lead to the guest rooms.

The wooden door opened with a creak, revealing one of the plain rooms.

"You can sleep here tonight, l'll go and prepare a bath for you. If you-"

Large hands gripping your hips softly, interrupted you. Geralts eyes looked back and forth between your lips and eyes. "I think the bath can wait." he growled and pulled you against him.

With ease, he closed the door behind you with his foot and pressed you against it in the same movement. His hands found their way to your back.

His eyes studied every inch of you, and again it seemed as if his eyes were glowing. Before you could think, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his. He seemed to like it, because Geralt grabbed your waist a little tighter, lifted you up and sat down on the bed, with you straddling him.

He had already left a few marks on your neck that would certainly be seen for some time. His hands roamed your body as your lips found their way over his chin to his neck to leave a trail of kisses. You noticed how Geralt was concentrating on something else as he tensed slightly.

He leaned over to your ear, „Your father is eavesdropping.” You stopped kissing his neck, a wicked smile spreading across your face.

Without warning, you leaned back a little in Geralt's lap, but held on with your hands on the back of his neck.

"Mhmm Geralt!" you moaned his name, loud enough for your father to hear. Geralt looked at you with this small grin that spread across his lips so rarely. With one swift motion, he grabbed you tighter and kissed you hard, which made you moan into his mouth in surprise.

This time without pretending.

When he parted from your lips, his eyes went to the door. “He's gone.” he grinned with his usual low voice.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Good thing I'm going with you because they would hunt me down after this, him being in the lead."

"Mhm" Greralt grumbled with an evil smile. "Sleeping with a mutant," his eyes looked directly into yours, "Bad, bad girl."

"Oh, shut up." you laughed as you hit his shoulder but he already started kissing you again.

When the two of you left the tavern the next morning, the marks on your neck were still clearly visible. Geralt had made sure everyone would see it.

"Fucking whore!" some drunk men and women shouted after you, still drinking or already drinking again. But one look from Geralt was enough to shut them up.

Whatever they were ranting about, they were still more afraid of the Witcher than anything else.

"My horse is outside." spoke Geralt softly into your ear from behind. You looked up at him and nodded.

"Where are you going?!" your father shouted when he saw you and the Witcher. Without moving a muscle of your face, you answered him. “Finding his child of surprise.”

"I have not raised you to be a fucking whore for a fucking mutant." he shouted after you, as you were already making your way to the door. You would've said nothing and just left. Geralt, on the other hand, would not.

He slowly turned around, and you could see the fear in your father's eyes. Geralt didn't even have to say anything, he just turned back to you, put one of his big hands on your lower back and walked out of the tavern with you.

"We're leaving. Now." he murmured angrily.

He wouldn't be able to hold himself back for much longer.

༄ Don't copy, translate or republish any of my works on any app or other platform please. I only post my work on Tumblr and Wattpad.

Reposts are always appreciated, they really make my day🧡

#mywork #have you seen the announcement from henry??! I’m so fucking ready for more henry as superman #good lord #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt imagine #geralt of rivia #the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x you #the witcher x female reader #henry cavill x fem!reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #making out #em's masterlist

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winters-mistress · 7 months

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The wolf pups

Of all the things Cirilla expected to find when Geralt had taken her to his mysterious Keep, the dogs were the things she hadn't expected. The horses were obvious, pigs and sheep and cows, all livestock equally as expected. Housemice and cats, less so until she saw how dusty and dirty the Keep had become. But dogs? That had been the unexpected one.

They're somewhere between wolves and shepherds. Too big and fluffy to be just shepherds, but too obedient and faithful to be pureblood wolves. But they're beautiful and such a pro to the cold, windy keep that Cirilla couldn't help but squeak in excitement as she looked upon them all for the first time.

They're beautiful creatures, white, black, red and grey. Some are pure colour, some a mix of two, three or all four colours. Beautiful and fluffy and large, a mix of brood studs and breeding bitches, old dogs and young pups all together in the largest room behind the kitchens, warm even in the coldest winter weeks.

Geralt had told her that they're for hunting. Vesemir says they make good company in the months he doesn't stray far from the keep. Eskel says they make good friends with the sheep, give them good exercise so they don't get too fat to breed. Lambert says they're annoying, slobbery mutts who get in the way. Coën finds them charming beasts, often grinning whenever one of the dogs come close. Aiden took a bit longer to get used to them, and rather stays with the cats who find unusual places to sleep, but even he has been caught rubbing their fur and squishing their faces.

Ciri loves them, spending a lot of time with the bigger beasts who are permitted to roam the large keep, and the smaller pups who are confined to the room. They're so soft and fluffy and make perfect makeshift blankets when she lay at the fireplace and two large bodies splay over her, keeping her warm and weighing her down, keeping her in reality when the nightmares disturb her slumber.

Geralt finds her one day, giggling with the pups as they wrestle and climb all over her, running her fingers over the soft fur and kissing their gentle snouts. He grins as she laughs, a little tounge licking at her face. She deserves something nice after so many hardships.

He puts the shovel down. The stables can wait.

#geralt and ciri #the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia #cirilla of cintra #dadralt #fanfiction #geralt is the best dad #ciri is his baby #i love him #witcherfanfiction #witcher uncles #eskel #vesemir #coen #aiden #lambert #geralt #good dad geralt

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finnyphcntom · 9 days

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notorious.

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Chapter One : The Word Hate

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Did he over exaggerate? Yes. But something inside of him just.. felt weird when Dandelion was shamed upon. Geralt wasn't that bad of a dude, especially to Dandelion.

Lambert hated to say- yes, hated, that word again. He hated that he actually enjoyed Dandelion's presence.

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'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : oh but id lovee to convince you. maybe we can get a lil tipsy and ill go home with you, yeah handsome? ;)'

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Lambert was... notoriously known, for many things. What things? Well, the list is long, but here is the simplified version;

Being a bitch.

And then there was... well, thats about it.

He hated, hated, just about... Well, all? Of Geralts friends. Eskel would always say, "hate is such a strong word,"

Well no shit. He knew that, used it for a reason.

Speaking of hate, he hates when they hang out.

He was rather tired of everyone hanging out without inviting him. Yeah, he'd decline with a 'fuck no' or 'i hate triss lol' but, hell, he still wants at least an invite.

But no one bothered to invite him anymore.

They act like he doesnt know, isnt aware, of these events. Hes heard them talk, all because hes 'too angsty.'

Be real. If they had an Aiden, and then said Aiden died, theyd he angsty too.

Which, he will say, Geralt does have his Aiden.

Dandelion.

Lambert hated to say- yes, hated, that word again. He hated that he actually enjoyed Dandelion's presence.

And do you know what he hates even more?

That hes jealous.

He hates that he's jealous, and hates that he doesnt know what over.

Over Geralt? Maybe.

Over Dandelion? Maybe.

The fact that Dandelion gets invited to hangouts? Maybe.

Oooor the fact that Geralt, who treats Dandelion like shit, gets to keep his best friend. And he doesnt. Bingo, baby.

Well, okay, maybe it was a mix of all four.

But no, he heard of this party that was happening at Yennefer's house. How could he not? Kiera informed him alllll about it.

And another thing he was known for; not only being a bitch, but a petty one at that.

He was going to show up at that damn party.

~~~~~~

Lambert expected many things in his day. To fold clothes, deal with shitty customers, fold clothes again, to fix registers because somehow no one else knew how to do that, and then to again, you guessed it, fold clothes. Oh, and deal with shitty customers.

And then, he would go home around 3pm, just to clean horse shit and feed the goats on the farm. Only sometimes would he find holes in his perfectly good jeans.

But what he didnt expect? His phone to light up with a text. Ever since losing his girlfriend, he hasnt had a single text, other than from Eskel.

Eskel was a family man. Soft, sympathetic. He thinks he would have a little bit more trouble lying and hiding stuff behind his back. He thinks any of these people who are hosting these parties, throwing the- his phone dings again.

Oh, right. He was so used to a lonely phone that he forgot it went off.

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : hey lambert, i know we dont really talk but what time is that party tomorrow? ive got a performance that day and want to arrange an uber ^-^'

Holy fucking shit? It had to be Dandelion. No one else in the group was talented enough with music to perform it.

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : also!! how come u never go? :('

That was the second message.

Did Dandelion not know?

What does he do? He hated to say that his heart was racing. Why was his heart racing? It was just Dandelion. Just a rising celebrity with like seven degrees- from Oxenfurt no less- and his brothers best friend.

His heart was fucking racing. Does he be cool? Does he be mysterious? Should he even answer?

No, no he had to answer.

The few times hes talked to Dandelion have been.. amazing, actually. Of course, Dandelion had an issue with talking to strangers, and also, well, sleeping with strangers, but that was fine. Lambert felt like Dandelion enjoyed talking to, well...

Lambert.

Not Geralts brother, not a bitch (which he will admit he is,) not a depressed, angsty man who practically lives in his room at the farm he grew up on. Which he was.

His phone dings again. Shit.

Lambert grabs his phone off of his car mount this time, sitting in the parking lot of his shitty retail job at Cavill's Combat.

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : oh shit my bad i probably shouldve clarified. this is dandelion im sorry'

Be chill Lambert.

'lambert : heyy yeah no youre good lol'

The multiple y's were cool? Right? Showed he was calm. One Y was boring, three was excessive. Right?

'lambert : as for the party, i have no clue thats a geralt question.'

He decides not to answer the second question. For now.

He puts his phone back on the mount and his car in drive, pretending like he didn't flinch at the sound of the bluetooth connecting.

His phone dings again, and he cant answer, but he does peak at the message.

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : well i wou .. geral ... mad ... ignoring me ...'

That was all he could see for now. Quit frankly, that was all he needed to see.

Did Geralt ignore Dandelion whenever he was mad?

My brain was shut off upon hearing the first Hollywood Undead song start.

~~~~~

When I arrived home, I was bombarded with questions. Eskel was that type of man.

"How was your day at work?" He said from the kitchen, where Lambert was trying to sneak on by.

"Long." Lambert said. "Henry wasnt there."

His boss. Whenever Henry was gone, Lambert had to pick up all the shit- as an assistant store manager.

"Didnt have to fix anything today though, right?" Eskel said.

What a fake fucking bitch, Lambert thought.

"So... do you want me to fix you something to eat?"

He heard it, but didnt register it.

Being the odd one out was quite the funny thing. He lost his best, childhood friend of 14 years in his sophomore year of college to suicide.

He drops out of said college. Decides to start therapy; ends up getting sent to a psych ward.

And now hes working at some shitty fucking retail job; and still working at his adoptive fathers farm.

Yeah, life was fucking great. A ball of fucking sunshine.

Eskel was a doctor. Geralt was a successful Butcher, working under their adoptive father.

And he was a depressed man with a shitty retail job.

"Hello? Lambert?"

Without thinking, Lambert grabs the nearest item which just so happened to be a decorative vase, squeezing it tightly...

"How are things since you ended it with Kiera?"

and throws it.

Right at Eskel.

He's rather lucky it misses. Shatters all over the ground instead of on Eskel's mass.

"You're fake. Did you know that? You're a liar. You're a fraud. Stop with the fake fucking persona that you care about me."

And with that, he has no choice to storm away.

~~~~~

In his room, hes able to check his phone again. The text from Dandelion was sitting there, menacingly.

'lambert : does geralt always ignore u when hes mad at u?'

With how busy Dandelion was, you werent expecting an immediate response.

But you get one.

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : typixally he tellsme to fuck off and rhats how i know hes mas at me'

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : u should go :( ive never seen u there, i know u dont like me'

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : but i got a few tricks up my sleeve to convince u too ;)'

It takes Lambert a bit to decipher Dandelions absolutely awful typing. For a man with an english degree, he is sure as hell bad at English.

Lambert kept reading the, 'i know u dont like me.'

Who the fuck told Dandelion that? Because Lambert has never, not once, discussed any sort of dislike for Dandelion.

If anything, Lambert actively defends his name. He remembers all the times Geralt spoke about ignoring Dandelion, called Dandelion annoying.

Lambert would always stick up for him.

Were there any good reasons why? He had a bunch, personally.

One, and the biggest reason, was that Lambert would kill in cold blood to be able to talk to his best friend again.

Two, is that Dandelion was a good person with good morals. And incredible talent. Dandelion deserved love and praise, not hate from his closest friend.

Three, he was oddly drawn to Dandelion. He didn't know why.

Did he over exaggerate? Yes. But something inside of him just.. felt weird when Dandelion was shamed upon. Geralt wasn't that bad of a dude, especially to Dandelion.

But it's common decency not to talk shit about your best friend when the person you're talking to lost theirs to suicide.

Kind of inconsiderate, Geralt.

'lambert : lol who told you that? i like you'

He suspects it was Triss. Maybe Yennefer had assumed? Lambert didnt really like anyone, it was a safe assumption. But Geralt knew- knew Lambert actually at least tolerated Dandelions presence.

He even told Geralt that he wanted to be Dandelion's friend. That Dandelion reminded him of Aiden. He opened up to Geralt, surely his own family wouldn't do him dirty like that?

Dandelion didnt answer, and Lambert didnt know why, but it disapointed him.

'lambert : i gotta know what those tricks are though, care if i ask for a little more convincing? ;)'

Lambert was going to shit his pants.

First, he double texts. Which is fine, because Dandelion like... quadruple texts. But then he had to hit on the man.

It was playful, right? It wasn't gay. Playful. A game.

Why was his heart racing again?

He was straight anyway.

~~~~~~

Eskel was full of concern at the dinner table when Lambert didnt show up. There sat Geralt and Vesemir, but Lamberts seat was eerily just.. empty.

"Lambert skipped his farm work today," Vesemir said, taking a bite of his mashed potatoes, before grabbing salt and shaking what seemed to be half the bottle in it. Taking another bite, he seemed satisfied.

"He didnt respond to my texts at all. Read every single one, too." Eskel said. "And he..."

Eskel did not want to throw Lambert under the bus. Not when it seemed something was seriously wrong.

"I had to pick up his fucking slack," Geralt said. "Seriously, this kid needs to grow up. We all work in jobs we don't like. I don't like slaughtering pigs and looking at blood, and I'm sure that Eskel doesn't like performing surgery. But we aren't babies about it."

Geralt was chewing into his food like a rabid animal, clearly angry. The steak that was on his plate was massacred, cut up and stabbed.

The walls at Kaer Morhen were pretty thin. The farm itself was nice, but the house wasn't in the perfect condition. It was pretty, but old, some of the rooms half-finished.

Therefore none of the men were surprised or so much as even flinched when Lambert yelled, seemingly speaking to his T.V screen and taking his anger out on Overwatch.

90% of Lambert's free time was spent on video games. It used to be with his girlfriend, Kiera, but she slowly started avoiding him.

He hardly noticed the change. It was gradual; slow, but eventually he caught on. She wasn't the same.

For his own sake, he left her. He will admit, he loved her, but it wasn't hard. She messaged him once every few days.

"He broke up with Kiera, Geralt." Eskel says. "And now hes having a rough time. Maybe we should cut him some slack."

"Don't really care. Shouldn't of been as toxic as he was." Geralt said.

"We should try to understand Lambert. He comes before a girl, Geralt. Put those events with her aside, it's clearly driving a wedge between the three of you."

They could hear Lambert; which means Lambert could hear them.

Toxic? That was funny. He devoted everything to that girl. She ran a small business he would fund- which typically took his full paycheck from Vesemir. Other than that, she didn't really work. He paid for everything.

Toxic was funny.

"Lambert was too much stress on her. Shes a girlfriend, not a therapist. Girls don't like emotional guys, I cant help that." Geralt says, sharply and angrily.

"Lambert hardly talks about emotions." Eskel corrects.

"Sure as hell corrects me all the damn time about them. Sick of him calling me ungrateful and shit. I cant control his losses." Geralt said, with a tone that ended the conversation there.

~~~~~~

Toxic was funny. Really, really funny. Was it toxic to correct your brother on his own toxic behavior?

Lambert didn't understand.

Geralt. A man who ran everything in his life with his dick, not his brain. Who cheated on women, who verbally abused his friends. Who ignores his so called "best friend" because he's mad.

Thats actually not really that bad, but whatever. Lambert was mad, and petty, and wondering why Dandelion hadn't answered him.

Why was he thinking of that? Not okay, Lambert. He's busy. Probably recording music and getting yelled at by his directors.

Toxic was funny, when Lambert was so loyal. When Lambert tried his best to fit in, he just genuinely never did.

Toxic was so, so funny.

His mind ran off, to a different place, one where theres grass and tulips and roses and fuck- Dandelions.

Dandelion.

Would Dandelion prioritize Lambert over Geralt? Sure, they'd talk. But when he's mad at Geralt. When Geralt's not around. He would be a rebound for a best friend.

Just like he was to Kiera.

He had just won a match when his phone dinged and lit up three times.

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : hi ! sorry had to finish up recording a song for my album. stupid director :(

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : oh but id lovee to convince you. maybe we can get a lil tipsy and ill go home with you, yeah handsome? ;)'

Lambert was kicking his feet, giggling, and squealing like a high school girl. Well, his face was stoic, but mentally he was there. Mentally he was going insane.

He had never been hit on deliberately like that. Like stated before, he was the odd one out. With Geralt and Eskel his brothers, he was known as the ugly one of the family.

He was surprised when Kiera wanted him. Him, out of the three. He had made the move, god forbid a woman make a move on him. But she still accepted- still chose him.

She used to fuck with Geralt a couple years back, back when Geralt and Yennefer would cheat on each other. He always had girls left and right. Kiera, Yennefer, Triss, and boy, did he have a shit ton of one night stands.

He wasn't surprised when Kiera got distant. It hurt at first, but he realized one thing- thats life. She lost interest.

When people normally got to know him, they would see Geralt and run. They'd lose interest in him, all of the sudden. But Geralt would never take them from him though, he wasn't that bad a person.

And he wasn't a bad person either. But Geralt's best friend currently hitting on him? It shouldn't make him feel giddy inside. It shouldn't make him so happy that it felt like someone had chosen him over Geralt.

He couldn't help but smile.

But it was playful. It was all playful.

He couldn't help but feel his smile drop, as he went to read the last message from Dandelion. His face contorted in anger; wanting to lash out all over again.

'+1 xxx-xxx-xxxx : it was geralt. glad to see youve changed ur mind tho! <3'

#geralt x dandelion #dandelion #lambert witcher #lambert #lambert x aiden #aiden witcher #witcher eskel #eskel #vesemir #triss merigold #yennefer of vengerberg #lambert x dandelion #lambskier #jaskier/dandelion #geralt x jaskier #jaskier

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limerental · 11 months

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ficletvember 2023 - day 8

iorveth/roche weird criminals modern au of reason of state or something

Though an elite team of unsavory characters has agreed to work together with the hopes of assassinating the shady CEO of Redanian Industries, that doesn't mean they have to like each other.

content warning for canon-typical violence and a mostly non-explicit blowjob

The intercom crackled.

"Shit, pack it in, lads, our man's long gone."

A moment later, the staccato hum of the helicopter rising from the roof of the factory confirmed the announcement. Radovid had fucking gotten away again.

With their mission failed, animosity predictably reignited among the ragtag crew of would-be assassins.

"I fuckin' had him. One damn floor away. If you'd kept those heavies off me on that platform–"

"Ah, my mistake, Vernon. I had assumed you preferred your skull attached to your head. You were too close together to take a–”

“Thought you used to be a better fuckin' shot than that. You losin’ your touch? Your eyes goin’ bad, Iorveth? Can you see this?”

A distant middle finger, blurred through the lens of a scope.

“Permission to shoot him, boss?”

“Sorry, denied,” grumbled Dijkstra’s voice through the intercom. “Unfortunately, we need the unpleasant little bastard. Quit bitching and get out of there. All of you.”

There came a chorus of affirmatives from the crew. Geralt, already in the lobby. Isengrim, packing up in the building opposite. Philippa, disappearing easily into the crowded streets.

“Triss,” called Roche. “Law enforcement?”

“Thirty minutes out,” said Triss, her soft voice warped by the distance. Her van was somewhere down on the streets, parked in a discrete location. “I scrambled their comms but–”

“No rush then.”

“Fuckin’ hell–”

"Roche, don't."

“Damn it, someone make sure he doesn’t kill–”

Roche’s intercom clicked off.

For a few moments, having clicked off his own noisy comms, Iorveth trailed the barrel of his rifle after the figure scurrying across the roof in the unearthly blur of his night vision scope. He considered how much trouble he’d be in if he took a shot after all. Just a few warning shots whizzing near his ankles. Couldn't hurt.

He leaned away with a sigh and rolled his stiff neck and shoulders, beginning to pack away his rifle. A dozen flights of stairs separated this floor from the lower roof below, but the elevator was already pinging.

Iorveth amused himself imagining Roche jogging in place in the little box as it rose.

All that furious energy wasted just for a chance to hit him once or twice before they had to flee as the building was inevitably surrounded.

The door whooshed open just as he clicked the last latch shut on his packed equipment, and the man descended on him, all but vibrating with rage.

Iorveth deflected a punch with his forearm and jabbed with his own hit that Roche twisted easily away from. There was no real sense in hand to hand fighting like this, both of them too well-matched and too familiar. Each strike inspired a fluid counterstrike. They circled the empty room, locked in a stalemate.

There’d been a time when Iorveth would have played dirtier, unafraid to knock the man’s head against a nearby surface in a move that could split his skull in two. Similarly, Roche did not pull the gun from its holster on his thigh and let loose the way he may once have.

Things had been simpler when Roche was special ops and Iorveth part of a now defunct terrorist organization. For now, they were on the same team, and it wouldn’t do to maim or dismember one another before fulfilling their goal.

After Radovid was dead, no holds barred.

Time ticked by. This building would be buzzing with cops before long.

Roche managed to pin Iorveth with a rough shove against the long span of windows, the city lights glowing on his furrowed brow.

When their mouths met, the crush of their bodies together was no less furious.

Roche tugged at his braided hair, and Iorveth bit his lip hard. When hands fumbled at his belt, tugging, Iorveth caught them.

“No time for that,” he said. They’d have enough trouble escaping the building as it was. Iorveth could imagine the panicked demands and warnings buzzing from their silenced comms.

Unfortunately, the bastard couldn't resist a challenge.

“There’s time,” Roche grunted and went hard to his knees.

Sirens echoed in the distance. Iorveth shoved back the slouch of Roche's beanie to run his palms along his buzzed scalp.

"Hurry up," he said, even the hot pleasure of the mouth stretched around his cock not enough to dull his awareness of how close they were cutting it.

Roche pulled back a moment, breathing in sharp pants.

"You're usually more of a hairpin trigger," he grumbled.

"Maybe you're boring me."

"Fuck you."

The renewed focus and intensity brought him to the edge and over in a few quick breaths, and the warm twitch of his belly had barely waned before Roche was on his feet and had him by the collar.

Roche grunted as his back hit the wall, Iorveth punching the flash of the button to call the elevator even as he sucked a red mark onto the man's stubble-rough throat. When the door pinged and slid open, they fell inside with Iorveth's thigh crooked between Roche's legs. Roche gripped the bar along the wall and rutted up against him as the elevator hummed to life and plunged.

Iorveth watched dark eyelashes flutter as his mouth dropped open, almost pretty.

Later, sprawled out across the dark sheets of their shared high-rise apartment, he'd like to take his time and really watch the way this man's expression lost its stubborn tension momentarily at the cusp of his pleasure.

The fluorescent lights flickered into the red glow of shutdown just as they crashed into a lobby swarmed with policemen.

They'd have been wholly fucked had Geralt not appeared suddenly to beckon them down a side corridor. A full-tilt sprint took them through a maintenance hallway and out the other side of the building to crouch together behind a dumpster, listening for the roar of Triss' getaway van.

"Bastard just had to get a fuckin' punch in," grunted Iorveth as he leaned, breathing hard, against the slump of Roche's shoulder.

"Sure," said Geralt as he eyed Iorveth's undone belt. "We'll go with that."

#my fic #ficletvember #iorveth x roche #rorveth #will i ever write a rorveth fic where they don't punch each other? no #pretend like this is a really fleshed out au idea and not an excuse to write sniper iorveth #imagine he's wearing a cool tactical turtleneck and looks cool as shit and is really cool. and roche has a stupid tactical beanie.#and looks like a loser

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honeywitchers · 2 years

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Awful Plan, Great Result

A/N: This is from another one of my blogs that I decided to seperate my Witcher content from. I plan on deleting the original from that blog so if you have seen this before under a different name I promise I didn’t steal the story! This piece was inspired by @creativepromptsforwriting

Pairing: Geralt x Fem!Reader

Content and Warnings: Strong language, love sick Geralt, foggy brained Geralt just wanting to be loved, guy in an all green outfit thinking he can take on a witcher, violence because Geralt has had enough, soaking wet Geralt, love confessions, if you squint during the fight scene it might morph into Fiona fighting off the bandits in Shrek, wee bit of blood because bitches get stitches

Word Count: 2,934

Summary: Geralt of Rivia finds himself to be hopelessly in love with a soft spirited cottage dwelling woman. How does he confess his true feelings for her when he doesn’t even fully understand his own emotions? In quite possibly the strangest, yet most fitting way he could.

She was beauty. She was not just beautiful, she was the very definition of it. Even her breathing was filled with elegance. Her smooth skin mimicked the finest of silks that only royalty could ever imagine to afford. The way her hair complimented the tones within her face was almost unreal. Her features appeared cheerful almost always, no matter the situation, positivity leaking from each and every pore…..so why and how was it possible that a man like Geralt of Rivia could fall for her? He was the complete and utter opposite; rugged, rough skinned, quiet, constantly thinking of the dangers that fill the Continent, often dirty, and skilled in combat. Yet, despite all of this, she was the very sun in his sky, the stars to his moon, the flower to his soil, the…..you get the idea. The problem with this, however, was that she had not a single clue that he felt this way for her, completely oblivious to his undying love for her. All they seemed to be at this point were oblivious, emotionally constipated, and…….idiots. Complete idiots. Any onlooker could see that this was not a simply platonic relationship. Come on, the two were living together! And they had been for almost a year now! So anyways, here we are. The ever so odd tale of Geralt of Rivia and his……roommate.

The spotless wooden dining table Geralt had taken a seat at within Y/N’s cottage kitchen was almost buckling underneath his mass and the weight of his bulky armor. The dirt covering his arms and legs were surely destroying the cleanliness of it. He had just returned from a hunt that turned out to be a large group of villagers playing a trick just so they could get a chance at seeing the witcher in action. Geralt quickly realized this but not before he lost his footing and tripped over a partially buried root in the forest, rolling down a long and bumpy hill. Way to add insult to injury, universe.

Quietly grumbling curses under his breath, he did his best not to disturb the cheerful humming of Y/N, who was chopping up carrots for a stew she planned to make. Or more so attempting. The blade on the knife was terribly dull. Her cooking escapades had clearly taken a toll on the tool. It was all she had, so she had to make it work. Although, Geralt couldn’t help but find the sight amusing. Geralt’s eyes blinked rapidly and his posture straightened as if a light bulb had just gone off in his head. That’s it! He knows how he will profess his love! This is quite possibly the most romantic action a witcher could do! He suddenly stood from the table with determination, almost a little too fast, startling Y/N.

“Where are you going? You just got back.” Y/N questioned Geralt as he made his way to the door.

“I uh….need to go into town. I….forgot something.” He pathetically tried to come up with an excuse to hide his true intentions.

Before another word can leave Y/N’s mouth, Geralt was out the door and on his way to who knows where. She shrugged her shoulders and continued to shred—cut the vegetables on her cutting board.

Geralt loved and hated the fact that her cottage was practically in the middle of nowhere. It left them unbothered and with privacy but he still found himself annoyed that he had to trek through a grove and winding dirt paths just to get into town. He chuckled lightly as he came across a root hiding in the ground of his walking path.

“Hmm….not this time.”

Less than ten minutes later, Geralt began to approach a river. He was getting close.

“Thank the gods it’s not raining.” He said to himself.

The universe, being the absolute pain in Geralt’s ass, decided that sunshine and no rain was much too easy for the dear witcher. Why not throw a……minor? Yes, minor inconvenience his way, instead of allowing him to just walk his way into town and back smoothly. No, no, that would not do.

“Behold, witcher man! For I am Wulfgar, and I am here to take your coin!” A loud, high pitched male voice yelled out.

Geralt’s eyebrows furrowed and he turned around in the direction of the voice. What he sees is not what he was expecting. Standing ten feet before him stood a short statured man donning a green tunic and matching pants that were just a smidge too tight. A green pointed hat sat upon his bowl cut hair. A fashion expert, honestly.

Pointed towards Geralt was his embarrassingly small silver dagger. Confidence somehow oozed out of the mysterious bandit as he chose to lunge forward without strategy or thought. Because of the overwhelming bewilderment the witcher was experiencing, he jumped backwards just a hair too slow, resulting in the coin pouch at his hip being slashed open. Just as luck would have it, half of his coins were dumped into the river. Geralt grunted and unsheathed his sword, four times the size of the measly dagger Wulfgar wielded.

“Back off.” Geralt warned.

“Uh, uh….I…..I mean no harm, witcher. It’s….just a tough time, you know? So um…anyway…..please don’t um…..KILL ME!!!!!!!!” Wulfgar stammered and ran away.

“I uh….okay.” Geralt rolled his eyes and put his sword back into its holder. “Fuck!” He reached down to his coin pouch, coins were still slowly spilling out onto the ground. Like a beggar, he scoured the ground to pick up and salvage every last one.

Geralt considered turning back but brushed the thought off, knowing he couldn’t show up back at the cottage empty handed after he told Y/N he was going out. That wouldn’t make sense and it would only lead to more questions that he wasn’t currently prepared to answer. Instead, he began to think about how much of an idiot he was for believing this could work. Of course Y/N would never love him. He couldn’t even do this one self appointed task. Useless.

“Fuck.” Having a way with words, he cursed and treaded forward, feeling light raindrops begin to hit his skin and dampen his hair. What else could go wrong?

A short time later a now drenched Geralt waltzes into town square. The place is growing more and more quiet as he notices people rushing inside and merchants packing up the items at their stalls to avoid the increasing rain. Fearing that he missed his chance to come up with anything, he sprints towards the last remaining merchant.

“Wait!” He shouted.

The merchant looked up to him, eyes widening at his appearance. “Sorry, the rain is bringing all of us in for the day. Come back tomorrow.” The merchant went to turn away and continue packing without giving Geralt a second thought.

“Please, just….show me what you have.” Geralt pleaded with the man, hoping there is at least one item that even remotely resembled what he was looking for.

The merchant’s eyes narrowed and he stared in silence for a moment. “Witchers pay double.” He crossed his arms and stood firm.

Of course, because that’s exactly what he needed to hear after losing half of his wealth to the murky fast flowing waters of the river.

“Fine.” Geralt gritted his teeth, ready for the excursion to be over.

The merchant moved aside so Geralt could look at what his options were. His eyes examined the items laid out in front of him. There were four rolls of twine, a mysterious piece of cloth that appeared to have been white at some point during its existence, two cabbage heads that had been massacred by the wind and rain, rendering them inedible, and…..a knife! Just what he was looking for! A perfect kitchen knife to aid his one true love with her cooking! She shall never fret or strain her wrist again! He would wrap it in the softest of cloths and bend on one knee, hand stretched out, ready to release all of his pent up emotions and—

He realized it was in fact not a kitchen knife, but a dagger. A deep sigh escaped the witcher. It was a slightly rusted short dagger that was surely made for simple combat. A.k.a not something he originally planned on giving his soft ray of sunshine back at home to help her cook.

“How much coin for this?” Geralt held up the so-called weapon.

The merchant eyes his torn coin pouch. “Whatever you’ve got left.”

And so goes the last of his coin.

On his way back to Y/N’s cottage, Geralt is in a constant battle with his thoughts, telling himself over and over that he should not have gone out, how he wasn’t worthy of her love, how she could do so much better than him. How could he think it was a good idea to bring her a dagger that she didn’t need or even ask for? Especially one in a not so tip top shape condition.

Naturally, his one person conversation is interrupted by none other than…..Wulfgar.

“Now, witcher!” Wulfgar shouted. “I’ve got friends this time! And they have bigger swords than I! You will come to regret the last hour, mutant. You should have simply given me your coin!”

Three of the humans making up Wulfgar’s makeshift army came up behind Geralt in an attempted sneak attack and managed to snag the one sword he brought along with him, having left the other behind to be sharpened later on in the day. The witcher positioned himself into a defensive stance, looking at his surroundings. He counted six men in the group, all funnily enough sporting the same puke green outfits like they were part of some wannabe cult. The only thing left that he had besides his fists and signs to defend himself against the five swords and Wulfgar’s short stub was…..the dagger.

First, he fought off the three men who took his sword, one jumping on his back and immediately being thrown onto the ground, the second being knocked unconscious with a single punch. He took out the third using the Aard sign, knocking him against a tree. Two more men came running at him, swinging their swords haphazardly through the air, praying that one of them would draw blood from the witcher. The men however were very much unaware of their….lacking skills and were disarmed easily and knocked out.

Geralt then turned to Wulfgar, the last man standing. He was practically shaking in his boots, having just watched all of his friends fail miserably at taking down the witcher. After a moment, he bends down and picks up two of the swords left on the ground. He lunged forward again and this time nicked Geralt’s face, also slicing off a thin piece of leather covering his shoulder for extra protection. He looked to the side at his ruined shoulder piece and looked back at Wulfgar. He stepped forward slowly with an intimidating aura bouncing off of him. Wulfgar was stopped dead in his tracks in disbelief that he just made contact with the witcher. With one swift motion, Geralt swipes the sword out of the bandit’s hand, causing him to lose his balance and fall onto the ground.

“Uh….uh….uh Mr. Witcher, please.” Wulfgar started to stammer.

“You will stay away. Or I will kill you where you stand.” Geralt warned, bearing his teeth.

Wulfgar was left in shock, eyes wide and not blinking as he watched Geralt start to walk away. Somewhere in his tiny little brain, the idea of trying one last time to win overtook rational thought. He pulled out a small throwing knife that had been hidden in his pant leg, aimed, and threw it at Geralt. Just as how the rest of the day had gone for him, the knife sticks in his shoulder directly in the spot where his leather had been cut away. All Wulfgar hears is a short grunt from him and before he knows it, Geralt grabbed the dagger he purchased and sunk it into his thigh.

“FUCK YOU, WITCHER!!! YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!!! YOU AND YOUR…..YOUR STUPID HAIR WILL REGRET THIS!!!” Wulfgar screamed and was attempting to army crawl away. “AND….AND YOU KNOW WHAT?!? YOUR MOTHER IS A WHORE!!!”

Geralt rolled his eyes at the empty insult attempts and once again continued his journey back to Y/N’s cottage, bloody dagger in hand. Oh man, he fucked up.

Once outside her cottage, he stopped and took a deep breath. What the hell just happened? He started off his day sitting at her kitchen table waiting for dinner and then boom, he’s wielding a dagger he bought for her and used it to stab someone after he beat up six people. Ah, yes, the unpredictable life of a witcher.

Finally, he opened the door to Y/N’s cottage.

“Geralt! Where have you been? I thought you were just going to market? Did you take shelter from the rain? And did you–” Y/N cut off her own string of questions. “Is that a cut on your face?” She stopped cooking the food she was still attempting to make and ran over to him.

“Oh….yeah….” Geralt responded, still standing in front of the door.

“What happened?!?” She reached up to touch his face but his head jerked away on instinct, causing her to pull her hand back. “Geralt….where did you go?”

“I….went to town square.”

“Yes, but…..Geralt. Your face is cut, you have no supplies from any stall, your coin pouch is gone,” Y/N pointed to his hip where the pouch once was. “and….your pocket is….bleeding.”

“Oh…..yeah…..that’s probably from…..this.” Geralt said quietly, slowly pulling out the dagger he bought for her.

At this point, Y/N has no idea what to say to him. He said he was going to market, then came back with nothing but a bloody dagger and blood on his skin? What happened to his coin??? A hundred questions ran through her mind as she stood there in silence, eyes locked onto the dagger in his hands.

“I….got it for your cooking.” Geralt broke the silence.

“My….cooking?” She repeated.

“Yes. Earlier you looked like you were having….issues cutting the food for your stew and I was just watching you struggle sitting there thinking about what I could do to fix it and how I could make you have an easier time and—”

“Geralt.”

“What?”

“What are you talking about?” Y/N asked, still dumbfounded.

Geralt stayed silent for a minute, trying to rake over his options. Should he tell her not to worry about it and walk away for the night? Should he brush it off as just trying to help with her cooking? No. That wouldn’t explain why he had no coin and was decorated with blood. He started to ponder whether he was ready to risk it all or not…….it was time.

“Y/N…..please accept this gift as a token of my love…..” His eyes darted off to the side. “For….uh….you.”

As if the situation couldn’t get anymore confusing or awkward, Geralt reached out to hand her the dagger laid out on both of his palms. She wrapped her hands in her sleeve and took it out of his hands. A moment of uncomfortable silence passed as the two stared at each other.

“Geralt, this is a dagger.” Y/N said firmly. “And it….it has blood on it.”

Geralt stood there speechless, fully taking in that he just confessed to someone with a bloody dagger that neither of them needed or wanted.

“Listen, I tried to get you something you could use every day and help you but this fool of a man made me lose half my coin and then it started raining so the merchants started to leave and I saw that and figured it was close enough to a kitchen knife so I bought it but then on my way back I ran into the same dumbass but he brought friends this time and—”

In the middle of his rambling, Y/N had set the dagger on a nearby surface. She then cut off his borderline incoherent thoughts by grabbing his face and pushing her lips onto his, creating an intense first kiss between them. She eventually pulled away to examine the face of the confused as heck Geralt. That….was the last thing he expected to actually happen. Did….did his dumbass plan work?

“You’ve felt for me all this time?” Y/N asked, hands still cupping Geralt’s face.

“Mhm.”

A huge grin spread across her face. “You fought off a gang of men, almost got killed, trudged through the cold rain, lost all your coin, and came home covered in blood…..just to get me something that might help me a few times a day?”

Geralt ran a hand through his hair and laughed at himself, listening to Y/N sum up all of his day’s fuckery. She was correct. He did all of that just to bring home the wrong thing.

“I guess….I just love you.”

“You guess?” Y/N prodded.

Geralt’s face softened. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Geralt. Now, kiss me again.”

“My pleasure.” The witcher smiled and kissed her once again.

It was a terrible, stupid, horrible, foolish plan………and it worked.

#the witcher #witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt x y/n #geralt x reader #geralt imagine #geralt fic #witcher imagine #witcher fic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

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Geralt finally made his move! It was far more gentler than I expected. I’d imagined more of a rough ravishment, but this was cozy. For him I mean. Summer was so confused 😂

Also…”Summer is here with me”? In the middle of that storm, you have me melting Roo! He is so soft with her 🥺

But let’s get back to my favorite character Bryce!! OMG! If I didn’t love him enough before, I do now. It was such a treat to see him face off Jazlene. She’s already using the alleged pregnancy to her advantage, and gods I wanted to punch her. I’m sure if Geralt had to choose between his trusted knight and his bitchy wife, he’ll go with the former.

But the ending! Bryce is playing Summer’s dad as much as his position would allow. The king may have ordered him to look after Summer, but Bryce has grown to care for her anyway. It was almost audacious that he interrupted their moment and secured Summer away. My oh my. Although once they are in a castle, I doubt there will be any more opportunities to run away from him.

Such a brilliant chapter! That foreshadowing about traitors is tingling my spidy senses! Love this and love you ❤️❤️

Geralt out in the open knows he needs be subtle and patient. In my mind, he saw her standing there and just couldn't help himself. He needed to be close to her. He said fuck it, I could cuddle rn. He definitely is thinking of what he'll be doing behind those castle walls. Perhaps Summer could attend his next bath...

He also busted out some sweet talk. Rizzing it up. Ahhhahah. I think Geralt is melting at this point.

Bryce like uh uh, not like this. You can't be adultering out in the storm. Summer will catch sick! Ahhahahaa. But yes, he has no time for Jazlene. He's like this bitch ain't no queen.

And you can't trust those snakes. They're certainly up to something.

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mysteriouslybluepirate · 1 year

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Why Characters Matter- Witcher S3 (Vol. 1)

Full spoilers for our four lead character arcs in S3 of The Witcher are below. I am going fully off of memory. I swear, I only have good things to say. (Especially my favorite idiot, he made me cry)

To me, character drives the heart of shows and I finally feel like Witcher has gained some of its heart back.

My biggest problem with Witcher Seasons 1-2 is that I felt like we had no reason to believe our core 4. They had almost no reason to hang out.

Why should I care about Geralt and Jaskier's friendship? Geralt fucking hates him! Jaskier has spent most of his life hated, disliked, or ignored. Hell, in season 2 Jaskier had better chemistry with Yen than Geralt did.

Why should I care about Yennifer/Geralt? I know it's going to happen, and honestly, they spend all of their on-screen time fucking! They never hang out as friends, or people trying to get to get to know each other?

This show took my every criticism and said 'Okay, bet'. It made me fall in love with these characters again. This is a really solid season of television with heart, better cinematography and writing.

NOW: For background. I've seen all of the show and played a bit of the game. I also went through a 'lore of Witcher' phase on YouTube analyzing the books. Add onto all that a full 2 years of my life reading fanfic (Geralt/Jaskier, Jaskier/Yen, Geralt/Yen, or all of them in a poly relationship). I am no expert in the series, but where the show failed me, I went to other forms of the story.

So when I say I care about these characters, I am not talking out of my ass. I am going to go character by character and explain why this season helped me care again.

Ciri: Season 2 she was just kind of there? Yeah, she was learning, but she was a plot device. Yen wanted her, the Witchers wanted her, etc. In Season 3 I finally see a girl desperate for connection and safety. She asks all three adults what she should be in life for advice because shes scared. ('I see a powerful ruler regardless of what you do', 'in the future, if you are queen you're life will be shit'. and 'I like who you are now, focus on that and what makes you happy')

She is also SO SMART. I love she tries to impress Geralt with her monster knowledge. That she is really giving it her all with Yen and magic. But she knows that she just can't fit in with the Sorceress, and feels that she's wasting her gifts with Geralt. I know how her story ends and it hurts me to know that her optimism might just get crushed. SHE'S A CHILD!!!!

Yennifer: I AM SO SORRY I DOUBTED YOU! She is the boss ass bitch, I love her, and I fully forgive her for her self-sabotaging in Season 2. She genuinely wants to try to repair shit with Geralt. GENUINELY APOLOGIZING. Starting slow, showing Geralt that she's not just trying to be friendly for a cheap fuck. They spend time together. She is at war trying to balance her circles of influence AND take care of a kid. When she talks to her old friends, I SEE that being vague and secretive is hurting her. BUT SHE HAS TO for her family.

This is the first time I looked at Yen and thought 'She loves him'. All the 'magic kiss slowmo' bullshit didn't work for me. But when she wrote out 'your friend Yennifer' I BELIEVED HER. She's also so funny? Her struggle wearing masks is so relatable, and her teaching Ciri is heartbreaking.

GERALT: I LOVE THIS FUCKING HIMBO. He's trying to balance opening up, running away from authorities, and being a decent role model for his kid.

HE APOLOGIZED! MULTIPLE TIMES! For all his shitty actions! He does it so casually and earnestly! To Jaskier, Yen and Ciri. I don't know where this development happened, but GOD, I love it. He opens up!!!! He smiles, he get's soft, and he gets scary when he needs to!

He went from 'uncaring baddass' to 'oh god, he's a socially awkward nerd'. I finally see a Geralt I recognize. He's smart, and skilled but still struggles with socializing and doing what is right.

EPISODE 5 OH MY GOD. I am so happy they split this series up so we can stew in the cliffhanger!!!

I was on the edge of my seat. Geralt and Yen trust each other so implicitly they're able to make plans on the fly!

Jaskier: He's my favorite. Always has been. (I can write a paper on him this season I swear)

I went into this season expecting him to be in maybe a few scenes, but NO. My man was relevant to the plot.

1.) PLEASE GO TO THE OFFICIAL SOUNDTRACK AND LISTEN TO THE JASKIER ORCHESTRAL STUFF. It's so fucking fun! All plucky, and it sounds like you're going on an adventure and falling in love. 'Lessons in Smiling', 'He's a Spoon'.

2.) I FUCKING LOVED WHAT THEY DID WITH VALDO MARX. I was in no way spoiled, I didn't even know he'd show up. So I literally had to pause I squealed so loud. I wanted Jaskier to be treated well, and I wanted CANON Valdo Marx! I GOT BOTH! Also, All is Not As It Seems is a banger, but maybe overplayed. As Valdo deserves! You get the sense that Valdo is chasing trends and Jaskier fucking despises this man.

3.) THE ROMANTIC ARC. Now. I was spoiled that he'd get a love interest that was 'evil'. I fully expected a 'Douchebag convinces innocent protag they love them, only to double cross them'. This is how it starts. Jaskier catches on really quickly that he's probably going to get double-crossed.

Jaskier knows this is going to be a whole ordeal, so he tries to be as careful as possible. Seeming interested while keeping a distance. We can see Jaskier holding himself behind a mask, keeping the fun energy but watching Radovid in most scenes.

BUT. Jaskier is a romantic.

He knows this prince is bad news, he knows that. But something is keeping him stuck there. He sees his prince as someone to be suspicious of. A man who is willing to fake being drunk to hit on him. A prince who tries to be coy, and get Jaskier alone to talk. Who is usually there when Jaskier talks to his spy contacts. But...Well, we the audience has never seen how Jaskier acts around someone who genuinely likes him and who isn't afraid to show it.

Jaskier will follow a man who hates him for a good chunk of his life, writing songs about nature, love and heartbreak.

But in all this time he NEVER had someone to seriously listen to him. To see through his music, and lyrics, and look at the person he was.

So when this blonde prince sneaks away from an important party and admits that he's scared. And sings Jaskier one of his songs? Not a story written about adventure, or inuendo, or Geralt. No!

A song about how soft and kind love was because it let you be yourself with someone. How a person craves intimacy, even how music is written with untold words of love and kindness. How Jaskier finally feels complete in life! How Jaskier craves to be with someone, to be seen, even if it ends in heartbreak.

This prince finally SEES him...so.

Jaskier falls in love with Radovid of Redania.

Even if it's just for a night, even if it's just a crush. Jaskier can't help himself. He's the one to close the gap. To initiate the kiss. It's so GOOD.

Now. This is a man with bad intentions who is going to hurt Jaskier. I suspect that Jaskier fucking Radovid gave the 'enemy' enough time to kidnap Ciri. So.

Jaskier has always craved being seen by anyone who would listen. To be liked. To be loved. Here, on this one night, that craving was fully taken advantage of, (maybe)with a goal to hurt a person Jaskier cares about(Ciri, by leaving her alone). Even if it turns out that Radovid isn't involved, that he didn't mean for this, it would break Jaskier. Jaskier would close himself up, much like S1 Geralt, his heart wouldn't be safe with anyone. He will smile again. Dance and sing for adoring fans. But he'll never let someone dangerous in again.

I have always shipped Geralt/Jaskier, I really love reading it. I love angst/unrequited love. Hell, give it a week, and I'll read S3 fic. But this season I saw a Jaskier that didn't need Geralt anymore. Who had moved onto someone who at least seemed interested. Jaskier was simply a happy man doing what he loved. He was a weird Uncle teaching Ciri how to be human. I ADORE the scene where Geralt and Yen are talking and Ciri and Jaskier are secretly watching them. I finally feel like Jaskier is an accepted member of this family.

4.) Just seeing someone finally be comfortable in their own skin was so nice in this show. He's a funny, awkward, and sometimes charming guy. He's anxious ass all he'll, and scared and trying to rationalize the shit that's happened to him. He runs around doing stupid shit because he cares about his friends. He's not attached to Geralt's hip, and the audience gets a sense Jaskier has a life! I fucking love this man, and how he tries to seem brave around literal superhumans.

This season treated Jaskier, like how fandom on AO3 treated Jaskier, with respect, joy, and a plan to break his heart!

#the witcher netflix #the witcher season 3 #the witcher spoilers #cirilla of cintra #ciri #witcher cirilla #yennefer #geralt of rivia #witcher #jaskier #jaskier the bard #witcher season 3 #character analysis #the witcher s3

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 11 months

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.⋆｡What He Deserves｡⋆.

Alpha!Bucky Barnes x omega!plus size reader

The morning after Bucky claims you, he realises how much he truly loves you

Warnings: implied smut, nudity, mention of claiming, fluff, brief talks about Bucky’s past

WC: 478

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

4k Celebration

Dawn crept over the horizon slowly, the weak winter sun just barely breaking through the curtains on the far side of the bedroom, creating small beams of light that fell over the bed. There were pillows and sheets strewn everywhere, leaving the bed bare save for a singular blanket that covered the occupants.

Bucky had been awake for hours, in fact he hadn’t even fallen asleep. Too overwhelmed with new emotions to even think about shutting his eyes, he had just watched you. You were sprawled on top of him, your naked body fitting perfectly on his own, chest to chest, your legs intertwined with your nose firmly pressed against his collarbone.

The wound on your shoulder was already healing, it would leave a scar but that was the whole point wasn’t it. A perfect circle of small cuts that, if Bucky leaned down and put his mouth to it, would match the pattern of his teeth. Unable to stop himself, he rubbed his thumb against the broken skin and fresh wave of your scent washed over him.

Bucky groaned as he inhaled, the smell of you so raw and untainted it made his skin prickle with goosebumps.

“Alpha?” Your voice came out as more of a rasp, still thick with sleep.

He winced. “Sorry mega, didn’t mean to wake you.” You hummed and nuzzled further into his warm chest, your hand coming up to rest just over his heart. Bucky smiled and kissed the top of your head.

“’S okay.” You sighed, a happy calmness spreading through the fresh bond. It immediately settles in his stomach, a feeling of peace and home. His grip gets just a little tighter but you don’t fight it, instead your soft body goes completely limp in his arms as you let out a contented mewl.

Snores began to escape your lips once more and Bucky just watched you. This was all he had ever wanted but never thought he could have, or deserved. You were his everything and by the grace of whatever god was out there, you let him worship you and love you with his whole being.

And now you were mated, joined together for eternity.

You chased away his nightmares with a smile, banishing them to a place where they could never hurt him again. You guided him into the light with your laughter, you showed him that touch doesn’t always bring pain. You proved to him that he was more than his past, more than a puppet for someone else’s bidding.

“I love you more than I ever thought possible.” He spoke quietly into the early morning light so as to not wake you once more. He let his eyes finally slip shut, content with you in his arms, your scent keeping him grounded.

He couldn’t wait to wake up and start the rest of your lives.

Request: Do you think I could get a a/b/o with either “I burn for you,” or “I love you more than I ever thought possible” with either Kylo Ren or Bucky Barnes?

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @km-ffluv

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#4k follower celebration #alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader #alpha!bucky x omega!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x plus size reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #plus size reader #female reader #reader insert #fluff #inbox #tw a/b/o

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

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The WIPs Ask Game

thank you for tagging me @imyourbratzdollI

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it

All or Nothing at All (Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers)

Blackberry Winter (Cole Turner)

Cicadas Dancing Soft & Sweet (Hal Carter)

Hear That Whippoorwill (Steve Rogers)

I Love You Like Crazy, Girl (Ari Levinson)

The Man That You Made (Bucky Barnes)

Nothing Left to Prove (Mickey Henry & Frank Adler)

My Prairie Song (Bucky Barnes)

The One to Sacrifice (Johnny Storm)

The Original Dolls (Multiple)

Pistol By My Side (August Walker)

Red Riding Hood (Geralt of Rivia)

Step Into My Ride (Ransom Drysdale & Destroyer!Chris)

Taking My Heart (Mike Weiss)

Wayfaring Stranger (Lee Bodecker)

Wake Up Call (Napoleon Solo & Ryan Ackerman)

The Whiskey on Your Breath (multiple)

Tagging: @saiyanprincessswanie @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @kthynes @the-iceni-bitch @luxeavenger @fineanddandy @lokislastlove

#WIPs Ask Game

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therealvikingstrash · 10 months

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10 Characters - 10 Fandoms - 10 Tags

pick 10 characters from 10 different fandoms and tag 10 people! tagged by @ladyyennefer thank you for the tag, love 💕

1. Hvitserk Ragnarsson - Vikings

Tortured soul with no limits in combat (total bloodlust), who loves deeply and goes with the flow to survive. Absolute sweetheart when at home with people he loves. Sign me up. Also broad shoulders and slim waist? And and and prettiest hair.

2. Jarl Estrid Haakon - Vikings: Valhalla

She's such a queen, oozing power by just standing somewhere. The presence just pulled me in like a moth to flame and I'm burning for her. She should've been in s2- there, I said it.

3. An Jun-ho - D.P. Deserter Pursuit

Another one of those "goes batshit in combat" types (although, he does apologize for hurting ppl, unlike the other ones who kill), that are very loving, with the broad shoulders-slim waist ratio. Welp, there might be a type.

4. Derek Hale - Teen Wolf

Tortured soul. Honestly, that dudes life is one big tragedy. But he's a fighter xD

5. Crowley - Good Omens

An angel that did not so much fall as saunter vaguely downwards. Asking questions and giving no fucks. My type people.

6. Geralt of Rivia - The Witcher

He swears a lot, soft heart, hard shell. He's somewhere in the dollhouse with the pther dudes up there. They all share a room and bitch about their shitty life.

7. Do Ha-na - The Uncanny Counter

Tough, but actually sweet. Also: pretty.

8. Kala Dandekar - Sense8

She is my babygirl and I need to protect her at all cost. Although, she is fully capable of doing that on her own.

9. Andromache the Scythian - The Old Guard

Very old, very tired, very done with everyone's bullshit (oh, is that me? No, it's Andy). Grade A fighter who has a huge soft spot for innocent people.

10. Pyeon Sang-wook - Sweet Home

Should I say it? Horrible background, gets constantly mistaken for a gangster/mobster, even though he's not a bad guy. He does some questionable things in the name of good(since the law SUCKS big time), but otherwise I would like to wrap him up in a blanket and give him nice things. (Wow, look it's a pattern)

Tagging: @bouncehousedemons @ritual-unions @tlkvikings @ulfrsmal @viking-hel @mercurygray @thelirofnorthlands @queenfinehair @shelivesinhermind @sparkling-strychnine

#tag game

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 11 months

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Part 29 - The switch

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 28 -- Part30

Pairing: Marshall x Lexi | August x Anjelica | Mike x Dani | Sherlock x Elena (In that - recurring - order)

Summary: Some of the Crescent Street boys - and their girlfriends/ situationships/ let's face it at this point Marshall and Lex are just a 'situation', not even a 'ship' - go on a ski trip...

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, (mention of) oral (f receiving, vaginal, anal), p-in-v, some interesting miscommunications, mention of sexual trauma, mentions of illegal activity...

Word count: 7.8k

A/N: Alright, so instead of writing this chapter 4 times, like I did with the NYE chapters, I decided to switch POV's a bunch (Which always goes in the same order: ML, AA, MD, SE.) Apparently stuff like that ends up being nearly 8k. I'd say I was sorry, if I was actually sorry, which I'm really fucking not, honestly.

I like this chapter, I hope y'all will, too! (There's some uncharacteristically sweet August and Ange, and there's a very confused Sherlock, and a very adorable Mikey, and.... The good news is @deandoesthingstome gets her M+L Shower Scene, but it's probably not the hot, steamy event you hoped for, sorry girl...)

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

“I’m off,” August said, a hand already on the door handle.

Marshall raised an eyebrow. “Off to where?”

“Ange,” August answered indifferently.

“Isn’t she sharing a room with Dani?” Marshall asked, not catching on.

“Dani will be with Mike,” August said, fighting to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Every second he wasted standing here was a second closer to the whole plan collapsing. Ange wouldn’t be happy, then. And neither would he. Or Mike, or Sherlock, or either of their girls, for that matter.

“Mike, who’s sharing a room with Sherlock?” Fuck. He didn’t have a complete grasp on the scheme yet, but enough to know something was up. Pun not intended.

“Yes. Sherlock will stay with Elena,” August said, opening the door so he could make a break for it if he had to. And he had to.

“Elena is sharing a room with…” Marshall tried, but August smiled and quickly stepped out. “Walker! Son of a bitch!”

He had no choice but to let himself fall back against his pillows and wait for the soft knock on the door. Actually, he did. But it would ruin the night for six people, and… maybe there was a part of him that didn't want to murder his friends for this obvious setup.

He opened the door with trembling hands. Why were they doing this? They’d been right to keep him out of this; he’d never have agreed to it!

“Hi,” Lexi said as soon as he opened the door. She pushed him aside and walked into the room. “We need to talk.”

“These bathtubs look just about big enough for the both of us,” Anjelica said, sliding her hands into August’s shirt.

“That's been a while,” August hummed in return, his lips brushing the skin of her neck softly, while memories of that evening alone at Anjelica's parents' house made their way to the forefront of his brain.

“Hm,” Anjelica moaned at the attention August was giving her, “that was a fantastic night.” Her fingers made quick work of the rest of the buttons of his shirt, and impatiently pushed it off his shoulders. She was right, it had been absolutely amazing – her father's presence had been needed at some fundraiser, and they'd had plenty of time to fully explore the luxuries of the main bathroom…

“It was… You know, when I saw that fireplace downstairs I was afraid we’d spend our whole evening there,” he admitted, moaning as her fingernails gently travelled down his back. He loved the feeling – she knew that.

“I wouldn't have hated curling up in front of that with a good book,” she replied, pulling him closer – which made August chuckle. Napoleon and Charles – and occasionally Mike, Sy and Sherlock, although the latter could be excused, still, simply because of his lack of experience – liked to complain that women were so incredibly difficult to figure out, but August couldn't agree. He'd always found Anjelica extremely easy to read: She'd pull him close when she wanted him close, and pushed him away when she needed him there. That's pretty much all there was to it. Right now, she was trying to trick him into thinking she wanted, rather than needed, him with her – like there was any sort of real choice involved in that.

“Why don't you curl up in bed for a moment,” he said, wiping a rogue curl out of her face, “I'll take care of the bath.”

“Yay, sleepover!” Mike immediately wrapped his arms around Dani, picked her up and tossed her on his bed. He'd taken the liberty of pushing the two singles together, so they'd have plenty of space for whatever it was that he had planned. Alright, it was Mike, so the plans probably didn't go a whole lot beyond ‘cuddle and fuck', but still. It was nice. And there was plenty of space to do it. Dani laughed when he jumped on the bed too and crawled over to her. “Hi!” He touched the tip of his nose to hers, before kissing her fiercely and then quickly moving on to her neck.

“Mikey!” she shrieked before pushing his face off her. “No hickeys!”

“It's freezing and we're on a ski trip, Sweetcheeks! You'll be covered head to toe. Let me… No! Lemme!” He wrestled her for it – and let her win, because there was no way she could take a guy like Mike on her best days… “You break my heart, Sweetcheeks,” he said dramatically, pouting like a sad little puppy. “Oh, how you wound me! What did I do to deserve this?”

“Mike, cut the drama,” she laughed, climbing on top of him and straddling his hips as he threw himself on his back with a theatricality that wouldn't have looked out of place in an off-off-off-off-Broadway production of whatever Shakespeare play you could think of. “I know the perfect way to make it up to you.”

“I'm beginning to see why you love this part,” Sherlock chuckled as Elena pushed him against the door as soon as he'd shut it behind him.

“I've been waiting for this all day,” Elena whined softly, peppering Sherlock's jaw and throat with kisses. There was no denying it. Even on the bus ride over to the hotel they were staying in for the weekend, she'd curled up next to him, her hands wandering places they probably shouldn't have been exploring in public – even if it was under the blanket she (and all the other girls) had miraculously thought to bring.

“I know,” he laughed, “but could we slow down a bit?”

“We can slow down after we get naked,” Elena replied, impatiently working the buttons of his shirt. It seemed a fair compromise, and he gladly helped her achieve her goal. She kept her promise; as soon as all clothes were off, she slowed down, diving into his arms under the covers as she teasingly slowly moved her hands all over his upper body, her head resting on his shoulder.

“Is it strange that I like spending time with you like this?” Sherlock asked softly, a smile playing at his lips.

“Not at all,” Elena answered, “I like it, too.”

“There's not a whole lot I can say.” Marshall shrugged, looking everywhere in the room except at the girl in front of him.

Lexi put her hands on her hips and scowled at him. “Wrong, Walter. There's a whole fucking lot you can say. Starting with…” She'd planned on making him apologize, but now that she was standing in front of him, her plans changed quickly. Why did he have to be so hot?

“I'm sorry,” Marshall said, the sincerity of his words obvious in his eyes, which he finally lifted to look at Alexandra. That was what she'd been wanting to hear, right? Then why did those words not make it better? Why did they make her feel absolutely overcome with rage?

“Wow, I really thought that would at least begin to fix something,” she sighed, slumping down on the edge of one of the beds in the room. Marshall sat down on the one opposite her.

“I, eh… Get mad,” he said, much to Lexi's surprise.

“What? Why? So you can feel better about what you've done once I've been screaming at you like crazy for a while?” God, why did he have to get his wish, even if she didn't want to grant him the satisfaction? Why was he winning this fight?

“Because I think I don't even know half of what I should be apologizing for.” Oh. Well. If he put it like that…

“Well buckle in, buddy, because it's a long ass fucking list.”

“I thought you hated the scent of lavender?” Anjelica leaned back against August's chest, running a hand up his thigh.

“I do,” he said. It was quite the understatement; he absolutely despised the stuff. And yet…

“Then why, pray tell, are we taking a bath in your worst nightmare right now?” A valid question.

“Because it helps you relax,” he answered, “and you need that. You practically singlehandedly organized this trip, Angel.” It was the truth – she knew that, although she'd never admit just how close her efforts came to being nothing short of completely supernatural.

“Sometimes I wish I could hide from you,” she chuckled softly. It was so difficult for her to give up control, to surrender the illusion that she had everything covered at all times… Sometimes, August staring straight into her soul was something she wished she could opt out of – but it would involve breaking up with him, and she could never.

“And I would let you,” August said to her surprise, “if there was even the smallest part of me that was convinced you'd take care of yourself if I wasn't doing it for you.” Of course he was right. Not that Anjelica couldn't take care of herself – of course she could! In fact, August was convinced she could pretty much do anything. The reality was, however, that she simply wouldn't.

“I know, but…”

He didn't let her finish that sentence. “Princess treatment for you tonight, my Angel.”

“Eek!” Dani crawled deeper under the covers, grabbed Mike, and pulled his shark Squishmallow closer. “Mike! I hate this movie.” Lies. They weren't half bad when watched while snuggled up to Mike – especially when she got to confiscate Jacques. Yes, the Squishmallow had a name.

“Jacques will protect you,” Mike vowed. See? Squishmallow had a name. And a ridiculous one at that, for a stuffed shark, at least – which was exactly why Mike had chosen the name.

“I want you to protect me,” Dani said, snuggling closer to Mike. “Hold on, is Jacques a way of not having to make any promises to…”

“Yeah, sure,” Mike cut her off bluntly, sarcasm clear in his voice. “Sweetcheeks, no girl I've hooked up with has ever even seen Jacques. He disappeared into the bottom of the closet for… a bit…”

“Oh no! How could you! Look at this sweet, squishy, little face!” She screamed when she looked at the screen of Mike's laptop again at exactly the wrong time. “Okay, turn this off! I'm scared-scared now, not horny-scared.”

“Shit,” Mike deadpanned, tickling Dani's side. “That's the wrong kind of scared.”

‘Slowing down' was out the window. Gone. Long forgotten. All that existed now were the sweet moans Sherlock heard as he kissed his way up the inside of Elena’s thigh. He buried his face between her legs with unprecedented enthusiasm, causing Elena to chuckle, which made him look up, an eyebrow raised inquisitively. Not that there was any way for her to answer his unspoken question, as she was far too occupied with the delightful feeling of his tongue, lapping hungrily at her apex, and the pleasure it brought her far too quickly.

“I don't like how good you are at that already,” she joked as he made his way up her body again, the kisses he pressed to her skin leaving a blazing hot trail. Every part of her wanted to jump him, he knew that. It wasn't particularly hard to figure such things out – she was quite vocal, and her fingers dug into his skin more and more greedily as she became more worked up. Right now, he was convinced they would be leaving marks on his upper arm.

“You're easy to read,” he confessed before kissing her gently.

“You hurt me, Marshall,” she whispered softly. “Let me recap this for you and see if you can spot the mistakes. We get drunk together and you fuck me - don't… I know I was on the other end of that and you didn't do anything I didn't want you to do. I know, okay? I know. Then you tell me you regret that you even liked it because you should have regretted it, which gave me a headache, for starters, and also was just generally kind of rude. Then you fucking ghost me! And I show up at your party at New Years Eve and I see you run off to your room with some fucking puck bunny that's been through half of your team?!” By the end of her speech, she was screaming – maybe mostly because, save for a complete communicative failure, Marshall hadn't actually done anything wrong. Although Alexandra wasn't quite ready to admit that. It was as Elena had said; the big crime she was accusing him of was rebounding. Alright, attempting to. Alright, the ghosting was bad.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Marshall said. He meant it – how could he not? Lex had been one of his best friends for a really long time, and seeing her hurt was just about the last thing he wanted.

“I need to know, Walter…” Her voice was a whisper again. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why sleep with me? Why ghost me? Why her?”

“Let's get the Veronique-thing out of the way first… I was trying to forget about you, Lexi. And I couldn't. Because… things wouldn't… I didn't… It… I… Eh…”

“Your dick refused service,” Lexi said without thinking, a sweet smile on her lips. She realized her mistake too late, and hoped her slip-up wouldn’t make things worse.

“Of course she told… Well. Yeah. I ghosted you for the same lame reason. I tried to forget about you because… Because I thought we could never be together. You're my best friend's sister…” He looked at his hands; a feeble attempt to keep his voice from breaking.

“Why'd you sleep with me in the first place?” It's not that she had expected him to confess his love to her when she'd done it. As far as she was concerned, that had been a stupid, drunken mistake. But at least she'd hoped that he'd feel it didn't have to be. That he'd…

“Because I love you.”

The massage had started with a ‘Is this necessary?’ from Ange, who'd then proceeded to attempt to stall and evade August so much that he'd seen no other option than to tie her to the bedframe using the belt of her bathrobe. Relaxation was mandatory, and that was the end of it. Ange had laughed. Now, she was on her knees, still tied to the headboard, with her ass high in the air and August’s eager face between her thighs. The position wasn't ideal – at least; it would have been suboptimal had the objective been to make her cum. It wasn’t.

“You like doing that a little too much,” Anjelica groaned into her pillow. It didn't make August stop, but it did make him chuckle, and soon his fingers took over while his mouth moved up a little, carefully gauging Angie’s reaction. It was something he – much like practically every other man on the planet – had always wanted to try, but they'd never talked about whether or not she was into some ‘backdoor experimenting'. “Fuck!” Aright, that sounded promising… “Three years in… I thought I was going to have to bring it up myself.”

Wait? She was up for it, and he didn't even have to ask? “Yeah,” she laughed, subtly cluing him in that he'd actually said that out loud. “Can you untie me? I really want to cuddle.”

“I'm impressed,” August said – but not before sinking his teeth into her ass once for good measure. “And I'm really happy you asked, Angel.”

“Still scared?” Mike asked. The question was surplus; Dani had good and well forgotten what she'd been scared of in the first place.

“No, definitely just horny now,” she laughed, “you're really getting the hang of eating pussy, babe.” Mike looked a little too proud when she said it, flashing her that insufferable grin before he threw himself face-first between her boobs. She wanted to get mad at him for motorboating her, she really did, but the puppy-eyes prevented her from feeling anything but ‘aww’.

Soon, he climbed up, though, focusing his attention on her neck, and finally capturing her lips in a searing kiss. It was unfocused – which wasn’t unusual for Mikey, but today was something special.

“What are you thinking, babe?” Dani muttered against his lips, because he wouldn’t break the kiss.

“Hmm,” he hummed before finally moving away, “I can’t decide what position I want you in and it’s driving me nuts.”

She laughed. What else could she possibly do? He said it so matter-of-factly that all possible awkwardness – and there was enough of that to go around – disappeared immediately, and she just laughed.

“Missionary?” She suggested, still trying to catch her breath.

“Boring,” Mike said. It was only slightly offensive. “And doggy sounds boring.”

“That’s your favorite!” she said, quasi-shocked.

“I know, that’s what’s driving me nuts!” he grumbled, burying his face in her neck. “I wanna try something new, if you’re okay with that?” And with another dose of those puppy-eyes… how could she say ‘no’?

“God, yes! Fuck me, please,” Elena cried out as Sherlock sank into her with a smooth thrust. The desperation in her request, paired with the sultry determination in her eyes raised heat and color to his cheeks. Elena grinned. Making Sherlock blush was easier and far more satisfying than she’d ever dared to dream. She reached for his neck, pulling his face to hers and kissing him fiercely before bringing her lips to his ear. “Go on, then, you know I love your cock.”

With shame clouding his cheeks and coloring his ears, he began to move. Slowly, at first, but soon encouraged by her words, increasing his pace until she yelped loudly. “Fuck! Just like that.” Upon hearing her words, the corners of Sherlock’s mouth twitched up into a gentle smile that didn’t go unnoticed by his lover. He couldn’t deny that he enjoyed receiving her praise at least as much as she enjoyed showering him with it. Even more than that, however, he appreciated her instructions. They were clear and concise and allowed him to please her better than he would have been able to without them, and he thanked her silently for them.

It wasn’t too long before he felt the increasing difficulty to keep his steady rhythm reach its peak. Through gritted teeth he let out a pained grunt. “I’m…” He didn’t make it past the first word of his sentence before his grip on her tightened involuntarily and he came, swearing softly under his breath. “I’m sorry,” he muttered shamefully as he retreated.

“What on earth for?” she said with a gentle chuckle.

“My… lacking stamina.”

“Give it some time, Sherlock. Besides, that was lovely, either way.” She wrapped her arms around him for a moment. “You know, a shower together wasn’t quite your thing, which I understand, though I do pity myself… but the bathtubs look quite nice…”

“What?” He… What?

“I love you,” he repeated quietly. So she’d heard correctly… “I’ve always loved you. As a friend, when we were little… Then as a little sister during the few years I talked myself into believing I was so much more mature than you – never was, of course—” he laughed awkwardly “— and then… Oh, God. You started bringing boys home on occasion and guys started to ask you out and whatever, and Peter would always complain about it. ‘What do they even see in her? She’s just my stupid little sister.’ And all I could think about was how pretty you were… It took me nearly two years to realize that…”

“That what, Marshall?” she whispered softly as she got up from where she was sitting and sat down next to Marshall instead.

“That I didn’t want to punch all those guys in the dick because I was protecting a sister.” He flashed an apologetic grin at her, while she barely managed to hold back a snort.

“I’ve had a crush on you for… years,” she admitted plainly, not daring to look him in the eye. “Ever since the summer I turned sixteen…”

“You avoided me for most of that vacation!” He laughed — the familiar sound she loved and that always reminded her of the fun the three of them used to have. “I was so confused, and our moms took me apart and told me that you were a little eh… ‘sweet on me’, I believe is the term mom used, and I laughed it off… didn’t believe a word of it.”

“No, they were right. I’d missed you and Peter so much when you were off to college, and our hockey games had been so much fun, and I’d been looking forward to seeing you again… and then you got out of the car the morning you got back, and it hit me like a ton of bricks.”

“What did?” he asked, clearly somewhat confused.

“You. And I didn’t even admit to myself it was a crush until about three days later, when you saved me from the collapsing chair. I was so shocked that I wasn’t disgusted by your chest hair anymore…” She couldn’t finish her sentence, because next to her, Marshall cracked up — and it took him a while and a half to be able to speak again.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, “don’t let me and my disgusting chest hair keep you from finishing your story.”

“Like I said: it suddenly wasn’t disgusting anymore,” she laughed as she pushed against his shoulder. “God, remember the last night?”

“What, the teen disco thing?” He snorted, a dirty grin spreading across his face. “Yeah I remember… Shit! Oh, fuck, Lex, did that upset you?”

“That you went outside with the girl I thought was my friend? Nah, why would you think that?” She could joke about it now, right?

“If it helps: she was a horrible kisser,” he said as he leaned over to her, “unlike you.”

“That’s not cuddling, August,” Anjelica said with a smile when she felt the tip of August’s cock at her entrance.

“We can do both,” he replied with determination. It was true, they could – although they hardly ever did, unless it was something one of them, or in this case both of them, really needed.

“I love you,” she whispered when he pushed into her with a grunt that would have to suffice as his answer. She pulled him along as she rolled onto her back, wrapping a leg around his waist.

“My beautiful angel,” he muttered softly against the skin of her neck as he pushed deeper, drawing a whimper from her lips. She moved her hips in time with his, rolling them into his movements as he gently rocked into her. “Good?”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, a content smile on her lips.

His hand moved to her hip, grasping her tightly as he tried to keep his slow rhythm. It could be challenging; her tight walls clenching around him felt so good it always kept him on the verge of losing his ability to think straight, and there was the ever-present urge for him to make her cry out his name — in pain, in pleasure or both.

At the same time, he relished the thought that he could go for hours like this — if she’d let him, and from the sound of it, she would.

“I missed you,” she whispered suddenly, making August’s brows draw together in surprise. They were together more often than not… “I was so caught up in what I needed from you that I forgot to just want to spend time with you,” she admitted as she gently let her fingers trail the side of his face, tracing his jaw.

“Well then,” August started, bringing his lips to her ear, and snaking his arms tighter around her before he continued, punctuating his words with deep, lazy thrusts that made Ange squeal: “Let’s make sure we reconnect.”

“Shit, babe, this is ah—” Mike’s greedy hands dug roughly into the flesh of Dani’s ass. “Pretty fucking amazing, holy shit… Keep— damn!”

Dani couldn’t do much other than laugh at Mike’s all-over-the-place rambling and mumbling about how much he liked what was going on. Well, that and keep moving, bouncing up and down Mike’s cock while he barely even tried to keep quiet. He loved it, there was no doubt in her mind, but Dani herself? She mostly wondered if she looked as weird as she felt about this. And it was a whole fucking thigh workout…

Mike whined when she climbed off of him. “No, babe, don’t… Hey? What’s wrong?” He reached for Dani with a sweet smile — but the pleading puppy eyes didn’t go anywhere.

Reluctantly, Dani let herself be pulled into his arms. “I felt silly,” she muttered, hiding her face in his neck.

“You didn’t look silly,” Mike replied, littering her face and everywhere else he could reach with kisses, “you looked fucking hot. This ass” — he grabbed it for good measure — “jiggles like crazy and it’s literally so fucking good!”

“Mike!” The last thing Dani wanted to hear was that she jiggled in any kind of way. Even a good one.

“Babe,” Mike sighed, clearly exasperated. “What do you want me to say? What do you want to do? Turn off the lights, get under the covers and — ow! What? Don’t use Jacques to hit me!”

Then, he attacked her, tickling her until she begged for mercy.

“Not until you tell me you’re pretty!” he threatened, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of her nose that she tried to avoid — unsuccessfully.

“Never!” she laughed, and her stubbornness made him smile. Of course, it was easy for him to enjoy this: he wasn’t the one gasping for air as she struggled to keep his hands away from her body. “Okay! Fine! I’m pretty!”

“Yes, you are.” He ceased his attack immediately and wrapped her up in a big hug. “Now, remember that or I’ll have to punish you again,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh no! I’ll be good, daddy, I promise!” Dani tried really hard to keep her face in check, but Mike’s reaction was so funny that she didn’t manage.

“Tell me you were joking!” he said, looking absolutely terrified, even when Dani finally failed to hold back her laughter. “Oh, good! That was…” He shuddered. “Don’t… Don’t call me that. Literally ever!”

“Looks like we found your weakness,” she laughed, poking at his side.

“This is preferable to the shower, but I’m still convinced you’re trying to boil me,” Sherlock sighed — a sound that was part annoyance and part pain — while Elena snuggled into his chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t exactly make the water more accommodating for you,” she chuckled, “I’m very cold.”

“Anything for you, darling,” he sighed, feigning a smile.

“You really are a quick study,” Elena laughed, trailing her fingers over his chest and abs. His muscles twitched under her touch, and she even felt his cock come alive against her hip.

“I have a great teacher,” he grunted as she continued her ministrations. The water temperature suddenly became a lot more tolerable — how strange.

The kiss that followed was gentle, and lasted just long enough to make Sherlock whine softly when she pulled back, his eyes begging her to keep going.

“I don’t mean to start something we can’t finish right now,” she whispered as she settled against his chest again.

A thoroughly sarcastic chuckle escaped him. “It’s a little late for that.” He didn’t mean to sound irritated — but the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

“I beg your pardon, Holmes?” She looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting we just… risk it?”

He opened his mouth to reply to her utterly ridiculous proposal, but his words got stuck somewhere between his brain and his mouth.

“What? Nothing smart to say?” Elena moved away from Sherlock as best she could, and looked at him, her eyes clearly posing a challenge she knew Sherlock and his rather limited experience with women were going to accept — except it looked like he still had absolutely nothing to say.

“I think I’ll just go,” he muttered quietly as he got up. Elena seemed less than inclined to come after him, and he prepared to escape the bathroom slightly flustered.

“Perfect,” she snapped at him as he walked back into the bedroom, “you were ruining my bath.”

He kissed her. Gently but decisively, and she gladly subjected herself to his treatment, not hesitating for a second. She’d missed him so much…

“We shouldn’t.” How someone could say that while pushing her back onto the mattress, she had absolutely no clue — but it annoyed her.

“Why not?” Lexi said, pushing Marshall off her and glaring at him. “Why can’t you just be with me unapologetically? Why is that so hard?”

“Lexi,” Marshall sighed, moving closer to her again. “We can’t just… hook up. We’ve never even been on a date.”

“Hockey game in two weeks,” she said with a devious smile. “There’s your date. Now, please kiss me?”

She didn’t have to tell him twice; before the words were good and well out of her mouth, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, making it abundantly clear that he planned on doing a lot more than just kissing her. Lexi’s arms immediately wrapped around Marshall’s neck, pulling him closer, and he was more than happy to oblige. Lips parted and tongues eagerly tangled, moans escaped both of them, hands slipped underneath sweaters and before long, most clothes had come off and fingers were wandering everywhere.

Lexi shivered when her fingers brushed past Marshall’s hardened length – no equipment failures tonight, or so it would seem. It seemed bigger than she remembered…

“Shh,” he whispered softly, “you know I’ll take good care of you.”

“I know,” she muttered. “It’s just… intimidating.” Her remark earned her a low chuckle.

“It’s a curse,” he replied with a wink.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure they all saw it that way,” she huffed, a hard to miss edge of annoyance to her voice.

“Six,” he said.

“What?”

“There have been six. Not including you. You are number seven.”

“And if we’re counting hand jobs and oral?”

“Eh… The number doubles,” he admitted. “You’re not the only one who’s been…”

“Intimidated, right?” Lexi stroked the side of his face, her fingers lingering briefly in his beard. She knew she had no right to be upset she wasn’t his first. He wasn’t exactly hers, either, but it stung, nonetheless.

“Lexi, please,” Marshall sighed, leaning his forehead against hers.

“I know, I know… Why did you even tell me?” Right. Like it was his fault…

“You were going to ask,” he sighed. He was right – which irked her. “Why do girls ask that question and then get mad about the answer?”

“Oh, I’m definitely picking this fight, just so I won’t have to deal with your scarily massive dick,” she joked. Okay, fine, half-joked.

“Hey, listen,” Marshal said, picking up on the serious edge to her voice, “if you don’t want to do this, we’re obviously not doing this. But I do want to keep making out, if you’re okay with that.” His eyes were kind, as was his smile, and the kiss he pressed to her neck was gentle and encouraging.

“Oh, I’m more than okay with that.”

She was in his lap now, slowly grinding her hips against his, while both of them moaned loudly with every move. August’s hands rested on her thighs, occasionally sliding up or down, but ultimately mostly leaving her to it. Ange had a hand between her legs and a blissfully fucked-out look on her face – that August was sad he couldn’t see, because Anjelica was riding him with her back towards him. Her slow tempo and sultry moans made him impatient, but he refrained from taking charge.

She was close — he could tell from the way her breath quickened, and with it, her pace.

“Fuck.” The sound was barely audible, as was the name that followed. A name that wasn’t August’s. And, unfortunately, he heard her — but he didn’t let her know. With an insidious little smirk on his handsome face, he let her do her thing, until she finally exploded around him. Then, as she slumped back against his chest, limp and worn out from what had sounded like an amazing orgasm.

August’s hand traveled briefly up her stomach and chest, lingering at her neck for a moment before he decided against his instinctive approach. Instead, he turned her on her knees and entered her from behind, not holding back for so much as a single moment. Within seconds, Ange was squealing into the pillows and grabbing the sheets while August pounded into her from behind. It took him one small adjustment to their position…

“Fucking hell,” she cried out, and he chuckled softly. She’d cum from this — and it wouldn’t take long.

He was right — of course he was. Barely a minute later, she came hard, her walls squeezing his cock so hard he couldn’t stave off his own release any longer.

“Dammit, August, what was that?” she panted, trying to catch her breath as she rolled over in bed.

“Oh,” he chuckled darkly, “so you do remember my name?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Anjelica’s eyes went wide.

“I still can’t believe you called me ‘daddy’,” Mike said, pouting and shuddering while clinging to Jacques.

“Babe, seriously,” Dani sighed, leaning over him. “It was a joke. Can we get back to what we were doing before?”

“Sweetcheeks, I honestly don’t think I’m going to be able to get it up tonight,” Mike groaned dramatically. It was a blatant lie, which Dani didn’t hesitate to point out.

“Uhuh,” she nodded, “nice semi, Mike.”

Mike curled up and glared at Dani, still clutching Jacques to his chest — making his girl laugh in the process. She curled up behind him and pulled the covers over them.

“Wow,” Mike muttered quietly into Jacques. “This is fucking nice.”

Dani chuckled as she pulled Mike closer. “Never been the small spoon before?”

He shook his head and made a ‘nu-uh’ kind of sound. “This is awesome. Do you get to feel like this all the time?”

“About half the time from here on out, I suppose,” she joked.

Mike turned around in her arms, still holding Jacques. “I’m not trying for your spot, babe. It’s just… nice, every once in a while, I guess.” He let out a deep sigh and settled into her side with his head on her chest.

“How did you get Jacques?” she asked after a while.

“Impulsive acquisition in high school. Remember the disaster-divorce?” Dani nodded in response to his question. “I was angry at the whole world for obvious reasons, and I walked past him on my way home from school. He made me smile, so I took him home.”

“And by ‘took him home’ you mean ‘bought’, right?” Dani gave Mike a meaningful look — or rather, tried to, because he wouldn’t meet her eye.

“Ehm… No, I mean ‘stole’.”

“Shoplifting, Mike, really?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t in a great place, Sweetcheeks. My parents were fighting all the time, and…”

“Failing your classes didn’t get their attention, so you figured ‘juvenile delinquent’ might?” she asked semi-sarcastically — and, much to her surprise, Mike nodded.

“Pretty much. Started small. Nail polishes for whoever I was seeing that week—”

“Mike! Don’t…”

“Sweetcheeks, trust me, it all meant nothing, and I sure as fuck never closed, so… either way; nail polish, lighters… Jewelry, make-up. God, I was desperate.” He laughed.

“Lighters?” Dani asked. It felt like one of those primary school assignments: ‘Which word does not belong with the others?’

”Ehm… Yeah, me and my friends might have set a trash can or two on fire,” he smiled apologetically. “Like I said; not in a good place.”

“And Jacques?”

“Like I said; I saw him, and he made me smile. Reminded me of something from when I was younger, so I took him home.” He absentmindedly stroked Jacques’ head. Or… he was a Squishmallow, they’re all head…

“Never got caught?” Dani asked, curiosity finally fully taking over.

“Once. They let me off with a warning because they thought it was painfully obvious I did it to impress a girl. Needless to say, she was not impressed.”

“Go figure,” Dani teased while running her hands through his curls. “Were you doing it to impress her?”

“Duh,” he snorted. “Sweetcheeks, you may not have noticed this, but I’m not exactly smooth or anything.”

“Oh. No, I’ve noticed,” Dani deadpanned, leaving Mike glaring up at her.

“Thanks.” He rolled his eyes.

Sherlock ran through the conversation-turned-argument in his head a dozen times in a feeble attempt to uncover his mistakes, until the sound of Elena’s voice distracted him. The sounds coming from the bathroom left little to the imagination with regard to what was going on, and the realization made his cock twitch in his pants. Shame reddened his cheeks as he silently cursed at his body’s reaction, and he fought the urge to take matters into his own hands, so to speak.

Focusing on his reading proved impossible, so instead, he folded his hands on his stomach and waited until Elena finally emerged from the bathroom, hoping she would be in a better mood.

“Are you ready to apologize?” she snapped when she came into the bedroom.

Sherlock’s eyes went wide. “Apologize? What about you? You were being completely unreasonable!” Of course, he didn’t realize his mistake until it was too late.

“Get out of my bed,” Elena replied, her voice at least as cold as her eyes. “Now.”

“Where am I supposed to—”

“Lexi’s bed. The floor. I really don’t care, Sherlock.”

“Elena, I—” “Sherlock, fuck off,” she snarled. Bewildered, he got up and sat down on the other bed, watching Elena as she got into bed and turned off the lights.

For a while, he didn’t speak while he wracked his brain in another attempt to figure out where exactly things had gone wrong. “Elena,” he whispered softly, his voice drenched with utter despair, “can we please talk?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” she huffed, turning her back to him.

“Elena, I know you’re upset with me, and I’m very sorry that I did something to upset you,” he said as he quietly got up and walked over, putting a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off. “Please help me understand this situation so I can make things right.” This time, she let him put his hand down, and he sighed in relief — albeit carefully.

“Trust you, relax, tell you if it hurts,” Lexi repeated before taking a deep breath. Theoretically, she was plenty prepared to take him, but in reality? She wasn’t drunk this time, which made it a lot more difficult to relax when Marshall slowly pushed into her. Her face scrunched up when she felt the sharp pain she was familiar with.

“Lex—” Marshall started, but she shook her head.

“It’s okay, it’ll pass, just…” A hand on his lower back pulled at him, guiding him deeper.

“N-no,” he stammered.

“Marshall, it’s fine,” she said with a warped smile.

“The fuck it is! Lexi, no.” He pulled out and dropped down on the mattress, next to her. “I’m not okay with this. I won’t hurt you.”

“Marshall, really, it’s no big deal,” she groaned. Why was he being so difficult?

“It is to me, Lexi! How can I have a good time when I’m hurting you? I don’t know how to make this clearer… I explicitly do not consent to hurting you.” There was something strange to his voice and about the way he punctuated every word of his last sentence very clearly and deliberately, and Lex I found herself quite occupied with trying to figure out what was bothering him when he announced he was going to take a shower.

“Can I join you?” she asked carefully when she figured he’d had enough time to cool off – and so had she. He growled a ‘yes’, but didn’t turn around when she stepped into the cabin. “Marshall, what happened to you?”

“Do we have—” A wet sounding slap against his shoulder interrupted him.

“Yes, Marshall,” Lexi said as she stepped around him and wormed her way into his arms. “We have to.”

“Alright,” he said reluctantly. “The first girl I ever slept with… Gina David, senior year. She said she was fine, but there were tears in her eyes, she was bleeding. I wanted to stop, but she insisted it was just… that it was just because it was her first time, too. She told me to keep going, I shouldn’t have, but she kept pushing me… and I—” His voice trailed off.

“You felt guilty,” Lexi filled in, and when she looked up, she was surprised to be met with Marshall, shaking his head.

“Not just that,” he said softly, “I felt violated.” He cleared his throat before speaking again: “I don’t care if we never do anything other than hand jobs and oral, Lexi. But I refuse to hurt you, and you can’t make me.”

“Marshall, I’m really sorry that happened to you. And I’m sorry for pushing you back there,” Lexis said softly.

Marshall shrugged and tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s alright, you didn’t know. I’m sorry that pain has always been so normal for you.”

She nodded, and then her face slowly began to show a smile. “Is it always that difficult?”

“No,” Marshall admitted, a small smile breaking through the sadness on his face, but his eyes weren’t playing along just yet. “You saw what happened when you relaxed, right?” He shrugged.

“We’ll get there,” she sighed as she leaned her head against his chest.

“Yeah, we will.”

“August, I didn’t… I’m so sorry! I can—” She covered her face with her hands, but August pulled them away again. Anjelica looked at him in shock. Was he smiling?

“Angel, it’s okay. I won’t mind the explanation, but there’s no need to get this worked up about it.” He was, indeed, smiling — after all, this had nothing to do with him. He knew Anjelica, he knew their relationship, and they were solid. “Why him?”

Despite his unbelievably relaxed attitude, Anjelica was less than excited about answering the question. “Well, eh…” She took a deep breath, while August pulled her into his arms. “I had this conversation with Sol a while ago. And being on this trip reminded me of… That thing that happened that one time…”

“Mike called it ‘the great fuck-off’,” August sighed.

“Mike knows?” Anjelica shrieked, looking at August in sheer terror.

“Oh, like you didn’t tell everyone at your little ‘girls night’,” he sneered, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like we were planning to tell them—”

“’Them’, as in ‘they all know’?” she sighed.

“Angel, please,” August snapped. “Like I said: It’s not like we set out to tell them, but we were drunk, the others were offering up some stories, they caught our mutual death-stares at each other, Mike and Sy came up with some theories that were all way worse than what had actually happened, so we told them the truth. I think they were fairly disappointed.” August shot a sideways glance at Ange. “Especially after the revelation that Dani isn’t as exclusively attached to Mike as we thought.”

“Oh, I think that was—” Anjelica started, but August raised a hand to… well, to shut her up.

“Ange, I honest to God don’t need to know. Back to your little Geralt-mishap from before.” “There’s really not that much more to tell. Are you upset?”

Her question prompted August to laugh. “Not really. I trust you, and I know nothing happened between the two of you. In part because I suspect Sol would have murdered you by now.”

“What makes you think she’d ever find out?”

“She’s you, but tall.” August deadpanned, and Anjelica couldn’t argue against his solid logic.

“Do you ever…” Ange started, but August shook his head.

“Nice try, Angel. I wasn’t the one caught red-handed, I’m not incriminating myself.”

Mike snuggled closer to Dani and looked up at her. God, he was adorable.

“What’s wrong, babe?” she asked, stroking a curl away from his face.

“Dani, what are we?” On the list of all the things she thought he might say or ask her, that question was firmly at the bottom. In fact, she wasn’t even sure it was on that list. What she was sure of, though, was that she’d expected to have to ask him that herself — bit she hadn’t planned on doing that for another few weeks.

Confused, she looked at him. “You want to DTR?” It didn’t even seem like his style…

“Yeah,” he said, clearly uneasy — possibly because of her lack of an answer. “I mean… We’ve been going out, and I really like that. I really like you. And I’ve been calling you my girlfriend, but we never really talked about it and…” He looked away shyly. “I can’t even really tell you how I feel about you without saying something that’s just way too much, way too soon, but… yeah.” He shrugged — which was fairly difficult, because he was still lying on his side, snuggled up to Dani.

“Mike, I’d be super stoked to officially be your girlfriend,” she said, her smile stretching from ear to ear.

“You didn’t have to snap at me when all I tried to do was stop you from feeling uncomfortable,” she muttered.

“You’re right,” he admitted, “I didn’t mean to sound annoyed. I wasn’t annoyed. I’m sorry I made you feel that I was.”

Now, it was Elena who had nothing to say.

“Would you care to confirm my theory that telling you I thought you were being unreasonable really didn’t—”

“Oh, that was probably the dumbest fucking thing you’ve ever said,” she interrupted with a slight chuckle to her voice. “You were right, of course.”

“I’ve been told it’s not always wise to point that out,” Sherlock replied. “Are we… okay?”

Suddenly, Elena laughed, although Sherlock could have sworn he heard something of a sob in her voice as she did. “If you can accept my apology,” she said softly. “I—” She hesitated. “Oh god, alright. I’m afraid I’m a few days away from my period and my stomach hurts and I’m just… really sorry. It’s no excuse.”

“But it is an explanation,” Sherlock said as he pushed at her shoulder until she moved over, giving him enough room to climb into bed with her. “And a reasonable explanation at that. Come here.”

“I can’t believe our first fight happened because of my PMS,” she groaned as she snuggled into Sherlock’s side.

“Oh, I’m having no trouble believing it at all,” Sherlock chuckled in reply.

Immediately, Elena slammed a hand into his shoulder. “Sherlock Holmes, I swear I will make you sleep on the floor!”

“Easy, darling, I was only joking.”

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