#Henry!Sherlock Holmes x reader
Note
Hello, if it's alright to request stuff, may I ask for some soft smut with Sherlock? Like morning, sleepy makeout in bed or something along those lines? Thank you!! I really love all your work! Keep up the great work!!
Taste of Home
Summary: You wake up next to Sherlock in bed after months of being apart. It never felt like home when he was gone. And now finally, he’s there to fill the void in your heart.
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Warnings: 18+ smut, kissing, thigh fucking, unprotected p in v, sleepy sex, cock warming, a tad emotional?- Let me know if I forgot anything!
Word Count: 2k
Any typos are my own!
A/N: Of course, thank you so much for the request! Here’s a very soft and sleepy Sherlock for you, nonnie ❤️
Daylight flooded the room, waking you as it beamed onto your face. The curtains had not been closed, and you were facing the window. The brightness made your eyes ache and you pouted as you covered them.
It was far too early, you decided. You sighed as you tried to go back to sleep, burying your face in the pillows. When you shifted, confusion filled you when your bare skin rubbed against the soft sheets. You realized you were nude. It was not like you to sleep without clothes.
You lifted your head and looked around. A shuffling sound came from behind you on the bed, making you look back. A familiar sleeping face greeted you. Your husband. Sherlock. Who was also nude, judging by the way the blanket draped low on his hips. You had a perfect view of his chiseled torso and defined v-line.
It all came rushing back to you when you looked at him. He came home from a very long work trip the night before. And after a quick dinner, he made love to you till the early hours of the morning. You remembered falling asleep in each other’s arms immediately afterwards.
It was no wonder he was exhausted. As were you. After the workout he put your body through, it was almost like you hadn’t slept at all.
Even now as you gazed at his dozing features, you felt like you could easily fall asleep. Nevertheless, you carefully rolled over so you could get a better look at him. You laid your head on the pillow next to his as he faced you, taking the time to admire how beautiful he was.
To say he was beautiful was an understatement. His curly brown locks tousled, which softened his appearance. His long lashes fluttered as he slept. He looked so peaceful.
Who were you to disturb him? He worked so hard all the time. This last particular case he was working on had been especially tough to solve. Of course Sherlock Holmes closed the case, but even the famous detective ran out of steam.
He deserved to sleep in for as long as he liked. His brows began to twitch as you admired the lines in his face. You tilted your head and watched him. At first, you thought he was dreaming, but then his eyes opened. He took in the sight of you, before he gave you an enamored smile.
“Mrs. Holmes…” Sherlock murmured groggily. “Good morning.”
You didn’t have time to say it back, because his lips were on yours the instant the words left his mouth. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting out a pleased hum. Good morning to you too, husband. He hummed back as you lifted a hand to his cheek, your tongue coming out to lick his bottom lip. When his taste hit your tastebuds, you shivered.
That taste. You missed it so. Like wintergreen and tobacco. It was both bracing and earthy. A taste of him this early in the morning was a treat.
Your mouth watered as you avidly drank down what you could from his lips. If you could bottle up his taste and drink it every morning, you would. He tasted like comfort, like home.
Then, the warmth of his lips was gone. You sluggishly opened your eyes, finding him looking at you as his fingers stroked your cheek.You tried to savor the residual of his saliva on your tongue.
“How long have you been awake, dear?” His question took a moment to register with you, given how exhausted you were. Based on Sherlock’s lazy caressing of your face, you could tell he was just as tired as you.
“Not long.” You muttered when your sense of understanding came back to you.
“Why didn’t you wake me sooner, darling?” He asked you, letting his hand rest on your cheek.
You melted, leaning into it. Bringing your hand up to cover his, you nuzzled your nose against the lines of his palm.
“You needed your rest.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to the crease of his thumb.
“After all the time we were apart, what I need more than anything is to spend time with my gorgeous wife. And I need to be awake and conscious to do so.” He pointed out to you, his voice still laced with sleep.
Sherlock moaned when you nibbled gently on the ball of his palm. His fingers flexed, and he lazily rested his forehead on your temple.
“Or at least lucid enough to admire how angelic you look in the morning.” He yawned softly, his face falling to your neck. “Though I am having trouble keeping my eyes open.” He mumbled against the flesh of your collarbone.
“Perhaps we should rest a little while longer.” You suggested, your fingers in his soft curls.
“Hmm… perhaps. Then again, we should get up and get ready for the day. My guess is we’ve already slept past breakfast. I fancy your idea much more, however. Staying in bed, with you.” He nudged his nose along your jaw, inhaling your sweet scent.
“Sleeping. Staying in bed, sleeping.” You corrected him, smiling softly.
“Hm? Oh, sleeping. Yes, of course.” He hummed innocently, his lips on your jaw. “I wouldn’t be surprised if I find it hard to fall asleep, though. You smell too good.” He moaned, tugging you closer.
You gasped when you felt his erect cock against your stomach. His manhood twitched when it touched your belly.
“And so warm. I’ve missed your warmth.” He murmured, squeezing his length between you as it leaked onto your skin.
His seed was sticky as it oozed onto your flesh. You shivered, it was so warm and you were reminded of last night when he shot his fervid seed inside you. A large hand grabbed the back of your thigh, lifting it so your legs spread slightly.
“I’m willing to bet you're also wet for me.” He reached down to grab the base of his cock.
You watched him guide his manhood towards the crease between your luscious thighs. It wasn’t until he slipped in with ease that you realized your inner thighs were covered in your fluids. Not only a result of his current actions, but also the very pleasant dreams you had of him last night.
A deep blush bloomed on your cheeks. Sherlock further situated his erection, nestling it between your wet folds. You jerked and gasped, your clit pressed against his solid length.
“So wet for me. Mmm…” He gave a sleepy smile and hum. Then he pulled away to look at you. “Tell me, my love, did you dream of me?”
There was no chance of hiding anything from him. His question was answered when you lowered your head bashfully. You took interest in where he buried himself in your thighs, watching as he shifted his hips. The top of his shaft nudged your delicate bundle of nerves. A heat rose in your belly, making you mewl as you rolled your hips.
“I dreamed of you. The entire time I was gone, I dreamed of you every night. It was the only thing that kept me going, the promise that I had you at home, waiting for me.” He sighed as your thighs squeezed him.
“I knew soon enough I would be back here, surrounded by your warmth. Your smell. Your taste. U-Ugh, your taste.” He groaned as he pulled out from between your legs. Your clit was rubbed the other way. You arched your spine with a breathless hiccup.
“Like the sweetest honeysuckle. I can't get enough.” He grabbed your cheeks, moaning as he brought you into a deep kiss.
His tongue slipped into your mouth, lavishing yours in sensual licks. Your flavors paired beautifully together. Honeysuckle and wintergreen. Sweet and refreshing. It made your cunt pulsate as you swallowed.
“Sherlock.” You hiccuped, your hands falling to his chest and you weaved your fingers through his chest hair.
You squeezed your legs together, gripping his cock as he continued to buck between them. He panted against your mouth, hitching your leg up onto his hip. He reached down, rubbing the tip along your now exposed slit.
“I need to be inside you, darling. Need to feel you.” He exhaled into the kiss, and you greedily drank down his breath.
He lined up with your dripping hole, and slowly sank into you. Sherlock held your hips, squeezing when you sucked in a breath. Your body accepted him inside you easily. Like it was welcoming him home.
There was nothing better than this. Being wrapped in the arms of your beloved, being as close as two people can get. Yes. This was home.
You whimpered, pulling him closer with your leg. Pulling away from the kiss, you opened your eyes to stare into his. You cradled his face in your hands.
“I-I’ve missed this.” You admitted, your chest heaving in soft pants as he shallowly began to thrust. “I’ve missed you. I dreamed of you too, Sherlock. Every night-ah!”
You sighed in pleasure. The tip of his cock nudged your cervix and it felt like all your nerve endings sparked. He was so deep.
He cradled your bum, easing in and out you. Your words caused him to moan and press his head against yours.
“Did you always wake up wet for me?” He groaned, licking his lips as he waited for your response.
“Yes. Yes, everyday.” You whined as you remembered the mornings where you woke alone in bed. “It always felt so… cold without you here. I dreamed of this every night. And each morning, I ached for you to fill me. I-I felt so empty.”
A whimper escaped you, your emotions jumbled from the mix of pleasure and fatigue. Sherlock shushed you, grinding his hips to remind you of how not empty you were at the moment. His pelvic bone grazed your clit. You melted, your face falling against his neck as you moaned.
“It’s alright now, my love. I’m here. I won’t ever leave you empty again.” He promised you, burying his face into your shoulder as he gained a little speed, though his pace was still slow and lazy.
His deep momentum had you to the edge in no time. It was all too much. You felt every inch of him and it was making your drowsy head swim. Sleep sounded so good right now, but cumming all over your husband’s cock sounded even better.
“I’ve got you, dove. You can let go. I’m here now.” He breathed into your ear, pulling your body impossibly close.
With one last jolt of his hips, you came with a soft cry. Sherlock quickly pressed his lips to yours, swallowing down all your sobs as he gave his own gasps. He pressed into you all the way, shaking as he shot his load deep inside your cunt. His hot, thick seed covering your cervix only prolonged your orgasm.
You felt his heart thudding in his chest as he pressed it to yours. He held onto you tightly, and you clung to him. As your climaxes subsided, both of you were left panting.
You never wanted this moment to end. Being one with your husband, it was euphoric. Why did it always have to end?
He shifted, and you whimpered. You tightened your leg around his side. He grunted when you clenched down on him in an attempt to trap him inside you. His hand squeezed your ass.
“Relax, darling. I told you, I’m not going anywhere. I promised not to leave you empty again, didn’t I? The both of us are going to get a bit more rest, as we stay just like this. And when you wake, my love, I will still be here. Inside you.” He hummed in content as he closed his eyes, stroking your back to relax you.
You were able to unwind once you realized he wasn’t going to pull away. Closing your eyes, you burrowed into his chest. A soft sigh escaped you, blowing around some of the hair on his chest. Sherlock pressed a kiss on the top of your head.
“Rest now, sweetheart. I’ll keep warm. And full.” He murmured, his low and comforting voice made your eyes droop.
The warmth of your husband helped lull you to sleep. Your dreams were once again filled with him. There was no need to worry about waking up aching and empty this time. Because Sherlock was back home, and everything was whole.
A/N: Look at me, finally getting another fic done😅 Sorry it’s been a bit, I’ve had a horrible case of writer’s block. I hope you enjoyed, love you all! ❤️
Taglist: @sunshine-with-daisy @leigh70 @islacharlotte @lysarria @kebabgirl67 @pandaxnienke @identity2212
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A taste of my new Sherlock Fic...
It wasn’t starting over, you often told yourself. Starting over implied that you were leaving everything behind. This was taking the past and letting it buoy you into the future.
London was the perfect place to try. No one knew you there, and you had always craved a life without…context.
You were in the midst of finishing a particularly frustrating chapter when a knock on your door made you jump. You wanted to ignore it as to not interrupt your flow, but it was persistent.
You rose, still half in writing mode, and as you unlocked the door and were greeted by…shoulders. The shoulders spoke.
“Pardon me, I believe this was delivered to my flat by mistake.”
Then you realized the shoulders were attached to a man holding a package.
He handed you an opened parcel from the local bookshop. The Mistaken Manuscript. A crime novel written by T.L. Merriweather. You admired the cover when–
“You are 221A. Please make sure your husband is clearer when relaying his address.”
You shuddered. “Actually that will be quite hard for him seeing as how he’s been dead for five years.”
You shut the door, eager to shake off this interaction and get back to the escape of writing when another knock came. It was him again. You noticed the shoulders were attached to a head titled in a quizzical look.
“If this isn’t your husband’s book then…it’s yours?”
“That’s right. You must be a detective.”
“Is that supposed to be a joke?”
“It was supposed to be, but no one is laughing so perhaps it isn’t.”
His head titled the other way, his curls bouncing to the other side.
“That book is quite vulgar for a woman. I’m surprised it’s something you’d enjoy reading.”
You paused. A tiny smile escaped your lips.
“I wouldn’t know. I never read it. I wrote it.”
His eyes widened as you shut the door on him again, the smile still dancing on your lips.
#henry cavill#henry william dalgliesh cavill#sherlock holmes smut#sherlock fanfic#enola holmes#enola 2#henry cavill sherlock holmes#sherlock x you#you x sherlock#sherlock fandom#henry cavill sherlock x reader#sherlock holmes enola holmes#sherlock holmes imagine#henry cavill sherlock holmes x reader#henry!sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes x reader#cavill!sherlock x reader#cavill!sherlock imagine#henry cavill fan fiction
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The Game is Afoot (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)
Sherlock Holmes x GN! Reader
summary: you’re an old friend of sherlock’s and admire him so. as you gaze around, you can’t help but think about the past and the future.
word count: 1.1k+
this one is random, i wrote it because why not?
warnings: unedited, a tad bit dark because it involves a hint of stalking but it’s fineee, i still have not watched enola 2, GIF NOT MINE !!
Fingers sweep against the bookshelf, filled with an assortment of books that could only be read by an intelligent individual. One who may have had too much time and devotion to uncovering the secrets of the world– secrets of people’s minds. Because what is life without a tinge of curiosity? Without the occasional adrenaline rush as the gears begin to turn, and the clock has finally chimed to a new day.
Comparing him to his older brother, they had nearly nothing in common. Sherlock had maintained his oddities and interest in chasing the mystery, meanwhile, Mycroft had subjected himself to mingling with society’s aristocrats. Perhaps too caught up in upholding the family’s image, his methods of displaying affection towards his family were unorthodox, and often showed more irritant than any other emotion.
Nevertheless, you had grown to know both– and it wasn’t a mystery to acknowledge Mycroft cares for the family. But through his perception of looking through a business and government lens, he’s often clouded by the idea of perfection, the idea of anything otherwise frustrating him to no end that leads to the most questionable decisions taken.
Yet with all that past knowledge, they still managed to have their names constantly written within the papers.
Sherlock was London’s gossip. It seemed the country had gotten a rise out of investigation and justice within the corrupt system. Though some predicted it would fester and spoil the relationship between social classes. That didn’t matter, you knew, it was broken from the very beginning. However, those who weren’t in it for the mystery– were very much reading the papers for Sherlock.
As you had moved to London, all that seemed to carry in the air were the thoughts of him. Whether it be his physique, intelligence, his most recent case, or all.
The thought did linger, how did he manage to look after all these years?
Hopefully, he was much better tending to himself than he cared to tend his flat. Scattered parchment in stacks all throughout the main room, books in heaps. Some were built on different levels, a variety of different candelabra spread out and notably used. Old wax still formed on the tray beneath. Most seemed to crowd a large map encompassing all of the city. Around, laid different colours of string strung around and held together with scribbled notes of ink and bright red thumbtacks.
The wall alone had bubbled your curiosity and overpoured. It seemed that Sherlock had already gotten his hands full, a case seemingly catching his eye. And by the looks of it, one that he’s followed for quite some time. Various clues and hypotheses were dispersed across the wall and tabletop, as well as a violin and cigar tray less than a foot away. He’s been observing.
Your own fingers trail along the string, eyes scanning through his clues. It was so easy like this, to read his mind. As more notes were piled on top of one another, his methods of uncovering the truth were fascinating. You could almost picture it– him staring at this board as you are, mind dizzying with the possibilities of the truth.
Sherlock had a temper of his own. His pace would quicken as he took a stroll around his furniture, fingertips feeling the materials around. Smoke would be filling up the room more than he’d like and eventually aggravate him, opening the window before returning to his routine. His eyes narrow as he stared along the seamless pattern of his wooden flooring, avoiding the known areas to creak in the slightest. As his patience thins, he would place himself on the sofa and stare absently at the wall again. Back leaning against the sofa as he finally uses his hand to remove the pipe from his lips, puffing out smoke as his eyes trail back to his wall. This action repeats again and again.
More ideas would befall his inquisitive mind as he dissects them piece-by-piece, before ultimately discarding them as another wild possibility. A visitor would then arrive moments and tear his attention from the master mystery before he could draw another conclusion and process it once more.
It was impressive to see his own line of work.
While he unveiled and sought to break the mystery, you yearned in forming them. Complicating them by various simplistic overlaps until even your own mind was left unsteady, and then add a bit more for the flare of being dramatic. France had been left in shambles at your mind games, ignoring the obvious signs while indulging in the fake clues a little too often to your dismay. They were the experiment used for the lesser plan– enough of a conundrum to set off the people working under the government. How easy it was, to frame the works of a powerful nobleman or a series of them.
It seemed Sherlock had caught traction of that. Already tying the relation to the foreign case solved suspiciously sudden to the most recent cases sparking among the busy streets of London. Words couldn’t express the adrenaline and excitement that engulfed you, not only by the chase but in the idea of playing with a dear friend. A memory.
Sherlock Holmes. Private detective and investigator, fuelled by his lifelong passion for mystery and unpicking the society of London lock by lock. It was an exciting thought.
To see if he could defend London before you shatter everything beneath your feet. To abolish the system of corruption– of aristocrats– of the Queen.
Heavy feet echoed outside of the flat and a final smile dawned on your face. Placing the parchment back into its messy display, you made way for your exit and paused. Watching as Sherlock entered his flat, unfastening the buttons on his coat as he made his rounds around and through inspection. After, he had placed himself on his desk and began occupying himself with ink and quill.
“Until another day, Sherlock. It’s my turn to advance.” And with that, you had gotten down and disappeared into the night.
.
A small smile left Sherlock’s face as his hand settled on the desk. With sharp eyes scanning the linked letters, reviewing the loops of his writing and grammar before a pleasant huff escaped him. Earlier that day, Mycroft had retained a gossip. One of an old friend that had recently moved to London he had recognized while conversing with a well-connected businessman. Mycroft, being himself, retrieved an address for his younger brother and tucked it into Sherlock’s gloved hand– ‘to distract him from obscene findings in the paper.’
As he flipped over the letter and folded it properly, he wrote in the front the required information to have it sent tomorrow morning as well as a name.
Y/N L/N.
How great it would be to have your presence near him again, after so many years?
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hope you enjoyed !!! thanks for reading :))
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Sherlock Holmes Fluff Alphabet
A - Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?
Honestly, Sherlock's main passion are his cases. So if he wishes to spend time with you, he is most likely to take you along on a case or tell you about all the thoughts running through his mind.
It is, however, not the only thing he does in his life. In between cases, he likes to read or play music. You could thus those together, or you could do any activity you might like whilst he does one of those.
On occasion, you might have a drink together, but it is more likely to happen in the privacy of your own home.
B - Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?
Sherlock likes someone with wits; someone who likes to cultivate their intellect through any means they see fit. He does have a certain admiration for emotionally intelligent people too, who are empathetic and capable of understanding their feelings.
C - Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?
When you first meet, Sherlock is at loss on how to comfort you. It first takes some observing from him and conversations with you for him to learn what to do. He is however a fast learner and will constantly try to improve upon what he already knows to work.
D - Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?
He may not be very likely to admit it, but Sherlock can no longer imagine the future without you being beside him. He has no specific plans regarding what he wishes, he only knows he wants you to be a part of it.
E - Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?
Sherlock has his habits and he cares about those being respected. He may also take some decisions regarding both of you without consulting you first when your relationship starts, often because he believes he knows better.
If it is something that bothers you, however, he will hear you out and make sure not to take any important decisions without talking them over with you first.
F - Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?
I don't picture Sherlock as the shouting type, unlike Mycroft. He is, however, very stern and serious, and honestly quite intimidating.
He cannot stay mad at you very long though. He does not want to. Fights are fun for no one and he prefers to avoid them altogether by having a calm conversation.
G - Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?
Sherlock is very observing, so he is likely to notice small things you do for him. Some he might take more for granted than others though. What he would appreciate the most would probably be when you help him on a case, either because you let him ramble to you or because you actually engage and give your opinion.
H - Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?
This man is far from being an open book, so yes, Sherlock has secrets. But they are usually not intentional. He is more likely to consider something is not worth sharing than actually try to hide it from you.
I - Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?
You definitely changed him in ways. I can picture Sherlock as being more open to his relatives after starting a relationship with you. He bothers trying to understand his feelings, instead of bottling them all up. Because now, cases are not the only thing that matter anymore, you are there too.
J - Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?
Once you are in a relationship, Sherlock is not very worried when it comes to your honesty or loyalty. He believes you to be a good partner, who would not do such a thing. He does remain a bit warier towards strangers or even acquaintances that could attempt to court you.
However, before your relationship was properly established, he was worried someone would court you and win your heart, although he would never have admitted it.
K - Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?
Sherlock has very little experience in this regard and he does not kiss you often. He is however very gentle whenever it happens, unless you initiate something more passionate. In which case, he will follow your lead and adapt to your pace.
Every once in a while, he might be the one to initiate a more passionate kiss however. Maybe after being absent for a prolonged amount of time or after either of you were in danger but you made it out safely.
L - Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?
A confession from Sherlock can not be as simple as him just telling you he loves you. The first time he attempts it, it probably flies over your head, because it barely even sounds like a confession. "I appreciate your presence." or "I value your opinion." are sentences that take you aback, but there was no reason for you to read into them you thought.
He finally confesses clearly when he starts thinking his feelings aren't shared. That is when the puzzle pieces are finally able to click in your brain.
M - Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose?
Considering the era, you would be bound to marry. Not that Sherlock minds, however, since he likes to picture you growing old together.
He would talk about his proposal ideas with Enola before going through with it. No one wants a repeat of his confession not being clear.
N - Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?
I don't picture Sherlock as a nickname man. He prefers to refer to you by your name directly but he occasional "dear" may slip out.
O - On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?
Sherlock definitely tries his very best to hide his feelings. And for most people, it works. They would not be able to tell if he was in love or not. Enola might be able to read through it, though, because Sherlock would let things slip. He would mention you by name, stop to greet you and actually speak, and sometimes even smile. Knowing her brother, she can tell something is different about you.
Despite hiding it relatively well, Sherlock's mind is racing. At first, he does not understand why his thoughts keep going back to you, but as time passes, he starts accepting it and lets his mind flow freely.
When it comes to you, Sherlock is quicker to compliment you than most people. He may even offer to walk you somewhere, which he would ordinarily never do.
P - PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?
Considering he does not kiss you a lot even when you are married, kissing you in public would be a big no-no. The only acceptable gesture would be for you to hold onto his arm, or to dance at a ball (if Sherlock agrees to that in the first place).
Boasting is not really his style either and would not be very acceptable anyway. At most he will compliment you in front of others.
Q - Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.
It is Sherlock Holmes we are talking about, so of course his observational skills are an advantage. They can however be an inconvenience if you try to surprise him.
R - Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?
Not a big, grand gesture type of romantic, Sherlock would however accept to do small things to make you happy. Dancing in your living room, playing music for you, buying you flowers etc.
S - Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?
Of course he does. Sherlock would be your number 1 supporter, even if it's not always explicit. He would listen to you talk about your goals, dreams and plans for the future, and he would help you find ways to achieve them.
T - Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?
Like I said earlier, Sherlock likes to have a certain routine. I think it's especially the case in your relationship because the rest of his life is usually not like that. Every case is different, so every day is different. But having a constant, through your relationship, helps him ground himself.
U - Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?
Because he is so observational, Sherlock knows a lot about you. Or at least about all the physical things that regard you: your hobbies, your likes, your dislikes etc. He struggles more with knowing and understanding your thoughts, however. But with time, he learns and gets better at it.
V - Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?
Would Sherlock give up on being a detective for you? Probably not. But is your relationship important to him? Yes, definitely. Especially once you confessed to each other, it becomes one of his priorities to keep courting you properly until he can propose. After that, keeping your relationship steady and making sure you are happy remains at the top of his list.
W - Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.
Sherlock likes to hide little things for you, wondering if you will find them and realize how they winded up there. Things like dried flowers or small notes in books.
Besides that, even if he almost always manages to deduct that you are preparing a surprise for him, he will occasionally play along. Not every time, because he thinks he would be too obvious. But every once in a while, he will pretend you managed to trick him just because it clearly makes you happy.
X - XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?
Only ever in private and usually at night, when you are lying in bed together. Sherlock is not a big one for physical affection, hugs are rare and kisses even more so. But holding you close and pressing his lips against your forehead as you quietly talk to each other before falling asleep... that's a yes.
Y - Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?
Distraction, preferably a case, something that can keep his mind busy while you are away. Else he is likely to spiral like he sometimes does between cases.
Z - Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?
The furthest I can picture him going would be to drop a case if your life is in danger. If it is his own, no. But you, yes. He cannot afford to loose you.
Original Post
I am a simp and I need more Henry!Sherlock content so please if you know any, hit me up.
For the rest, if you liked this, please do let me know by liking, commenting or reblogging. And don't hesitate to come drop a request :)
#henry!sherlock holmes#henry!sherlock holmes x reader#henry!sherlock x reader#enola holmes#enola holmes 2#sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes imagine#sherlock holmes headcanons#alphabet headcanons#race neutral reader#gender neutral reader#nille writes#nille is soft#enola holmes headcanons#henry cavill#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill headcanons
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Sherlock Holmes X fem reader- Father and Daughter time.
Sherlocks Pov:
Yn: Are you sure you can take care of Ofelia tonight?
You have this big case to solve.
I can tell my sister Juliett that we can have sibling dinner some other night.
Sherlock: Yn, love, you haven't met your sister since Ofelia was born.
Go out and have dinner with her, talk about childhood memories, the kind of things you talk about with your siblings.
And I can look for clues and work on the case here from home and at the same time Ofelia and I can have father and daughter time.
I answered her and took our one-year-old daughter out of her cradle, kissed her head and walked over to Yn.
When Ofelia caught sight of her mother, she smiled a toothless smile.
Yn started to tickle her and then Ofelia started laughing with us.
Yn: Sure sounds like a fun idea.
A little father and daughter time, of course you want it my little flower.
She started to laugh even more.
And shook her little hands.
Sherlock: There you see, she loves that idea.
Me and Ofelia are doing fine, so go so you won't be late.
Yn: Okay, okay I'll go and forgive me I trust you but this is my first time i .....
Before she could say anything else I cut her off with a kiss.
Sherlock: It is okay.
You have nothing to apologize for you are just doing what normal first child mothers do.
I know you trust me and I'm a little nervous myself.
But I've seen how you do with her so we I can handle this.
She smiled at me and kissed me back for a long time and then she kissed Ofelia on the forehead.
Yn: Okay, I'm going.
Ofelia be kind to your father, love you both bye see you later.
Sherlock: We love you too, say goodbye to mother Ofelia.
When Yn had gone out the door, Ofelia yawned it was time for a little nap for my little angel.
Timskip.
Waaaaaaaah waaaaaaaaaaah.
Sherlock: Daddy's coming shush daddy's on his way.
Hello my little angel, daddy is here now.
When I picked her up from her cradle, she snuggled up against my chest.
She stopped crying and after a while her purple belly started rumbling.
I looked up at our watch and saw that it was the perfect time for dinner for the two of us.
Timskip again sorry.
Yns Pov.
Finally home.
Don't get me wrong, I love my sister and have missed her a lot.
But I want to be with my husband and my little flower.
I have to admit I was a little nervous.
I trust Sherlock 100% he really is an absolutely amazing father/husband.
And he has been since we got married and when I was pregnant with Ofelia.
He is absolutely wonderful with her.
Other men tend not to be this much with their children.
But not Sherlock he wants to be with her as often as he can.
Ofelia is only one year old and she really has her daddy wrapped around her little finger.
Yn: Sherlock I am home.
When I entered the apartment, I was greeted by a sight that I wish I could capture in a picture.
Sherlock was sleeping on the sofa with Ofelia sleeping and wrapped in a blanket cuddling in his father's arms.
I walked up to them and kissed Sherlock's forehead and whispered.
Yn: You are a great man Sherlock Holmes.
And Ofelia will have the best father in the world.
The end.
#wattpad#wattpadstories#wattpad story#my own words#sherlock x you#henry sherlock#sherlock fandom#sherlock x reader#henry!sherlock holmes x reader#henry cavill#enola 2#enola holmes#enola sherlock#henry cavill sherlock x reader#sherlock x fem reader
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Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (1)
Summary: Your marriage starts rocky.
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader
Warnings: angst, injured reader (light), mentions of getting robbed, angry Sherlock, implied innocent reader
A/N: A collection of drabbles on how you became Mrs. Sherlock Holmes.
Mrs. Sherlock Holmes masterlist
“Where is my brother? We need to talk about Enola and the upcoming event. She needs to make her debut…” you hear Mycroft downstairs. He’s usually a stoic and silent man, but you kinda like he’s silent and leaves you alone most of the time. “Where is the lady of the house? Maybe she can help my sister correct her behavior."
You hear his voice grow louder as Sherlock’s head housekeeper raises her voice. She always acts more like the lady of the house than a servant.
“Mr. Holmes,” you gracefully walk down the stairs, putting on a strained smile hurting your bruised face. “I’m afraid my husband is not at home. He’s solving another case.”
“Again?” Mycroft holds out his hands. He presses a quick kiss to your offered hand. “He should’ve left his lovely wife all alone so short after your wedding.”
“Sir, it’s fine,” you flutter your eyes shut as you try to keep the wrong words from spilling from your lips. It all became too much lately.
Sherlock's absence, and his displeasure in participating in your marriage. The head housekeeper acting like you are not Sherlock’s wife but a peasant.
“My dear, what happened?” Mycroft gasps when his eyes finally see your swollen left cheek and your split lip. “Please tell me my brother didn’t raise his hand on you. If he did, I’ll make sure he’ll regret putting his hands on you.”
“It wasn’t my husband,” you reach out for Mycroft and grab his hand. “He’s a little distant and mostly interested in solving cases but…he would never. I swear, Sir. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have gone to town on my own. But Mrs. Demeter refused to send for a carriage.”
“What happened, my dear,” Mycroft worriedly asks. He offers his arm to you, and wonders if you are lying to protect his brother. “Please do not fret. Tell me everything.”
“I left the house to get the books Sherlock wanted,” you sniff. “I paid for the books and carried the books out of the store. A woman ran into me, and I dropped the books. I tried to pick them up and then…” You choke out a sob. “There was a masked man. He ripped my bag out of my hands and hit me with it.”
“My dear!” Mycroft gasps audibly. “Did you tell my brother about this?”
“He wasn’t home,” you drop your gaze, ashamed about your weakness, and inability to stand up for yourself. “The owner of the bookstore helped me pick up the books and accompanied me to Scotland Yard but…they didn’t want to listen to me.”
“Did you tell them your name?” Mycroft is furious. “How dare they ignore a young lady in need.” He huffs as you tell him repeatedly it was your fault for not telling them your name. “Stop blaming yourself, my dear. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s my brother’s for ignoring his wife.”
Downstairs it sounds like a war is going on. Sherlock and Mycroft yell at each other. And you are afraid, Mycroft is winning.
Your betrothed falls silent after a while, and you hold your breath as you repeatedly hear your name. The last thing you wanted was to cause a rift between the brothers.
They already have their hands full with their younger sibling. Now you are causing trouble too.
You wring your hands while hearing footsteps on the staircase. You hold your breath and step away from the door. “Wife,” Sherlock grumbles as he opens the door. “Where are you?”
“I’m here,” your voice cracks. “Sir.” You add, in the hope of appeasing your husband. He steps inside your room, eyes roaming your body. “Please accept my apology.”
“What for, Precious?” He steps closer to cup your face with both hands. “Why didn’t you send for me? I would’ve come here to take care of my wife.”
“I didn’t want to disturb you, Sir. It’s nothing,” you close your eyes when his gaze gets too intense.
“You got hurt. This is not nothing,” he raises his voice but gets a grip seconds later. “No one touches my wife.” His lips press against your swollen cheek, but you only feel the warmth of his soft pillows, not the slight pain. “I will call for Lestrade. We will find the man hurting you.”
“I think he worked with the woman running into me,” you explain while Sherlock inspects your injuries. “She distracted me long enough for the man to steal my bag.”
“Why did he hurt you?”
“I-I didn’t want to give the bag to the man. You gifted it to me,” you shyly batt your eyelashes as Sherlock angrily furrows his brows.
“You are fearless, my dear,” he cracks a smile. “I am sorry about my absence. After our wedding, we should’ve…” He clears his throat. “I'll send for a doctor.”
“She’s well then?” Sherlock sizes the doctor up. “I need to know every detail. Please don’t shelter me.”
“Her cheek is swollen, but the cut on her lips is already healing. She’s mostly frightened of the person attacking her,” the doctor says. “I’d suggest not leaving her alone for the time being.”
“Sir, what are you doing?” You almost screamed when Sherlock entered your room. He softly whispered your name and picked you up in bridal style to carry you toward his bedroom.
“I’m bringing my wife to my bedroom,” he carried you out of the room. His chest swelled when you rested your head on his chest.
"Sir, I think...you have a case and..." you whimper. If he wants to finally have your wedding night, you are not sure you are ready to be with him.
“I shouldn’t have taken case after case. We didn’t have the chance to get to know each other better. I know this was an arranged bond my mother and your father agreed to. But I…I want you to know that I’ll protect you from now on.”
>> Part 2
Tags in reblog.
#sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes x you#henry cavill is sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x y/n#Mrs. Sherlock Holmes
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Midnight activities
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Fem!reader
Words: 766
Tags: Dom!Sherlock Holmes, doggy-style, hard sex, dom/sub
Ethnicity and body type isn’t mentioned. I want everyone to feel inclusive.
Authors note: heyy whilst catching up on the requests, i figured i'd write this in celebration for Enola Holmes 2. I loved the movie, not as much as the first one, but seeing Sherlock again has made me feeling certain..emotions, so here's this drabble. Enjoy :)
Sherlock has you on your hands and knees, his deliciously thick body on you, weighing you down. You feel his body heat and the coarse chest hair that you love so much, on your back. Pinned down and with your legs spread apart he tells you, with your dripping pussy on display. “I’m going to fuck you, like this- hard and fast and you’re going to take it.” He brings down a hand to your ass and gives it a sharp slap, making you moan, your ass to his thick erection. As he groans into your ear. “God, you smell amazing, Little one.” He squeezes your ass. “You want it, Sir, it’s yours” you say breathlessly.
Without any other warning he slides his hand underneath your nightie that’s pulled up. He glides up and down a few times, taking in the curve of your back. He groans as his hand descend to your folds. Strumming his fingers down your center, gathering your arousal on his fingers. Circling your clit, round and round making you a delirious mess. “Stop teasing please, Sherlock… ahhh” you try saying as he smacks your apex. Making you moan loudly once more. He knew how you liked it rough. The red marks of his spanks marking you. Exciting a new wave of arousal.
“Fuck, Darling, I can see how wet you are”
You turn your head to the side to look at him. “then do something, you said you’d fuck me. But here we are” you say in a defiant tone. You watch him yank his sleeping pants down. You shivered, and elongated your arms up, pressing your face into the mattress. Getting ready for the fucking of the night. He rubs the head of his dick down and up your center. Groaning he slaps his dick against your clit. Making you try rolling your hips. He knows just how turned on you get when he rubs his cock over your pussy.
He suddenly wraps your hair into his hand and wrist making your face lift up and making your back arch. “I wanna hear, Princess.” His low deep voice sends shivers down your spine. he slams his girth into you. Gasping from the full force of his thrust, he pulls at your hair exposing your neck. His mouth sucking a mark into your skin. Knowing damn well you have work at the bakery the next morning, he keeps sucking at your skin. He continues to pump his thick girth into you. a hand glides over your ass, squeezing the flesh. His left hand wanders up to your breast. Smacking sounds fill the room as his heavy balls slap against your clit.
Coming from Sherlock a groan mixed with a moan as you squeeze his member inside of you. You feel his right hand on your clit, rubbing circles, “That’s it, Little one.” he says softly to you. “Taking your husband’s cock so well”. Your moans amplify with the hard thrusting, letting out “ahs” with each thrust. “Let me fuck you open” He keeps the pace fast and brutal making you feel full and crazy.
You are almost at the brink of your orgasm, groaning he slams harder into you. “Fuck Princess, This… fuuuuck you feel like a dream” he groans loudly. He grabs at your hips with both hands with a tight grip. You know you’ll have the bruises the next morning. And you buckle and meet his pace. Both of you fucking back into each other.
“Sherlock, Sir!,” you say his name like a prayer, like a plea. You feel the orgasm forming once more. Feeling Sherlock inside your tight heat, pulsing knowing that he’s waiting for you to cum. Sherlock hand comes back down to stroke your clit, pulling a bit but rubbing in small circles. With that small administration of his hand you come undone. You yell a garble of his name. He pulls out of you, flipping you over and shoots his cum on the column of your throat.
You stare up him in shock. He marked you, in a way he hadn’t in a while. His dragon eyes look down at you. A smirk playing at his lips, “why do you look so surprised Darling? You know you belong to me” he says as he spreads his cum all over your neck and with a delicate finger he brushes some on your lips. You automatically open your lips to suck at his finger. Maintaining eye contact you moan with his finger inside your mouth. His eyes darken, “Careful darling, you got work in the morning”
#henry cavill#sherlock holmes#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill smut#henry cavill x you#henry cavill x fem!reader#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes smut#henry cavill sherlock holmes#henry cavill sherlock holmes x reader#henry cavill sherlock holmes smut#sherlock holmes x y/n#henry cavill x y/n#sherlock holmes x fem!reader
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En Garde (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)
Synopsis: Your husband has always been protective of you, given his line of work. However, when he offers to teach you the basics of self-defence, it quickly becomes clear that his intentions may not be quite so innocent after all...
Warnings: Mild reference to bodily harm, light smutty behaviour, spoilers for the second film.
A/N: Oh, how I’ve missed Enola Holmes. I loved the books, and the films are just as great in their own way, so expect a bit of spam for the next few weeks - apologies in advance.
Masterlist
“Now, try again-”
“-Sherlock-”
“No. Come on. Focus, darling. Once more, from the beginning. Eyes forward-”
Oh, that was it.
You were going to kill your husband. Slowly… and painfully… It would be the least he deserved, torturing you as he was.
“Call me ‘darling’ one more time, husband,” you warned dangerously, “and see if I don’t shove this sword in your direction.”
Why you agreed to this in the first place was beyond you, given that the day had so far been much more satisfying for him rather than you.
After all, it had been Sherlock’s idea to help teach you the basics of self-defence - throwing a punch, dodging one, along with the fundamentals for using weapons such as a pistol, club, and now a sword (although when he thought you’d be in such a position to use one, you weren’t sure).
Given his profession and the fact that his cases often lead to unplanned consequences, it had seemed a rather sensible idea at the start. His recent run in with the infamous Inspector Grail had rattled him, helpless to protect Enola everyone involved in the case from harm.
Luckily, they had all survived, if not a little worse for wear - most of which was down to your skilled hands, having sewn, cleaned, and bandaged each and every wound they presented you with following the confrontation.
You had seen the pain etched into Sherlock’s face that night, as you had helped wipe the blood from Enola’s head where she had been struck. He may have often denied having emotions, but the brotherly love and concern was all too clear to you as he seemed to blame himself somehow for failing to protect her.
So, now, Sherlock was determined to equip you with the tools you may need should a similar situation ever arise. It made it an easy yes, to agree to his tutelage in the hopes of soothing both his and your concerns. That, and dare you even say it sounded like fun?
Well, fun for you, yes, but evidently even more fun for your husband as it turned out.
Indeed, Sherlock was certainly a ‘hands-on’ kind of teacher and it had become clear early on that his focus was not entirely on developing your skills in combat. You didn’t have to be the detective to notice how his hands kept drifting to places they didn’t belong, or that his eyes seemed to be capitalising on the opportunity to observe your form in tight trousers as you lunged about the room.
And that wasn’t the worst of it - in fact, for the past half an hour, he had been standing behind you, his chest pressed to your back, one of his hands covering yours as it gripped the hilt of the sword - or the foil, as he had informed you.
As for the other, it was rather distracting, pressed against your stomach so as to allow your husband to correct your stance… or so he claimed, as he pulled you closer once again.
“That’s it,” you huffed, trying and failing to ignore the sudden shiver that ran down your spine as he ground against you. “You are certainly having too much fun. Perhaps I should have asked Enola or Edith to be my tutor instead. At least they can be trusted to remain professional.”
He scoffed, not sounding the least bit ashamed at the accusation.
“You wound me, wife,” he murmured, his lips grazing against your cheek, “After all, was it not you who said you didn’t wish to be a ‘maiden in need of rescuing’ should anyone wish you harm?”
“You know that I am neither a maiden, nor in need of rescuing, Mr Holmes.” Turning your head, you were quick to return the favour, letting your lips graze his teasingly. His soft groan was enough of a sign that your efforts appeared to be working.
Two could play this game.
“In fact, the only person I seem to need rescuing from right now is you, and your wandering hands.”
You felt his laughter shaking through him, making it hard not to laugh yourself as he began peppering kisses to your neck.
Clearly your lesson in swordplay would have to wait; it appeared he had a different kind of physical activity planned for you both.
#enola holmes#Enola Holmes 2#sherlock#Sherlock holmes#Sherlock Holmes x Reader#sherlock holmes x you#sherlock holmes x y/n#Henry Cavill sherlock holmes#masterlist#ithebookhoarder#thesilentmage#henry sherlock#henry cavill#Henry Cavill x Reader#enola holmes imagine#enola 2
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i am DECEASED but now the question is , which one of ur henry boys would do this (and preferably drag it to something more 🥵) , Henry or Sherlock or August !!!!!!!
(the link isn't porn dw)
Oh!!!! You are speaking my brat language. I love denying kisses >:D
And ...
It's not often that Sherlock displays affection. It's not that he doesn't yearn for you. It's just that he likes to maintain a certain persona, pretending that these frivolous games are beneath him.
So imagine his surprise and ire when he leans to kiss you, and you turn your face away to deny him the sweetness of his lips. He sulks, unapproving of your behaviour and tries again with his fingers lightly caressing your cheek.
But before his lips meet yours, you sway to the other side and then quickly step away and attempt an escape. You hardly make it to the door when the hook of his cane locks around your waist.
With a yank, he hauls you back to him, and before you can even whimper, you are flushed against his chest with his arm wrapped securely against the small of your back.
"Don't deny me," he warns darkly and, with his knuckle below your chin, tilts your head up so he can finally devour your mouth.
Geralt is voracious.
And while he can be patient and soft, he is still a wolf, one that doesn't appreciate being denied of his prey.
As you sway your head and avert your gaze, he immediately snarls. You don't get to do it twice. Before you can even step back, his hand is locked around your jaw, and he is shoving you against a tree bark with his body fully pressed into yours.
His mouth ghosts upon your lips, he hums and you can taste ale and danger on his hot breath.
"Mine," he simply growls and then kisses you with the utmost vigour.
Any thought about denying him dies as his tongue penetrates your mouth.
#henry cavill#henry cavill x reader#Geralt of rivia#sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x reader#geralt x reader#geralt of rivia x reader
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the day/night we met ; henry cavill
PAIRING — Henry Cavill x Reader (fem)
SUMMARY — On your wedding day, your Maid of Honor prepares a special gift to which you and Henry have distinct responses.
WORDS — 1,8k
TW — nothing really just a lot of fluff, emotions (I cried a bit writing it), Henry in a suit 😈.
A/N — Hi! I'm not dead, just quit the most toxic job ever so I'm getting back here lol Here's a short but very dear fic to me that I wrote last year but never posted. I'm so happy to finally post this! This story has been in my head for two years now and it came out better than I thought.
Song insp.: Eu Me Lembro by Clarice Falcão feat. Silva
— 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
“ALRIGHT,” YOUR MAID OF HONOR smiles, carefully wiping her tears with a napkin. “After making you cry and potentially ruining some makeup,” The room laughs. “I’ve prepared something different to end this on a high note.”
This is one of the dearest moments of your life: your wedding. You’re marrying your soulmate. Your heart could burst with love and happiness whenever.
Everything’s perfect, from your dress to the lights of the venue. Henry – your newly proclaimed spouse – has an arm around you as you listen to your family and friends' speeches about you and your love.
You found it strange when your Maid of Honor wasn’t the first to speak, but it seems she has a reason for it. Immediately, you feel anxious, but in a good way.
“When these two told me they were getting married, I knew I wanted to do something special for them,” Your best friend starts. “I just didn’t know what, but I knew it had to be something remarkable, something for them to look back and have a good laugh,” She looks at the both of you with tears in her eyes, chuckling.
You also wipe tears off your eyes, smiling back at her, and Henry tightens his embrace around you.
“So I sat down with these two, separately, and started to ask a few questions,” She smiles and wiggles her eyebrows, which is an expression you know very well.
‘Oh my,’ You think. ‘What is she up to?’
“Things started to get really interesting from the start, and I decided to make a video out of it,” Your best friend winks at you. “Without further ado, enjoy it.”
With a pleasant smile, she sits down. The attention turns to the screens set around the venue.
You remember sitting with your Maid of Honor to chat about your relationship. You didn’t really understand why she wanted to do that. However, it always has been effortless talking about Henry, and you brushed it off as having something to do with the wedding.
You recall having a great time answering her questions – drinks might have been involved beforehand, but the whole process was surprisingly professional.
Your friend’s face pops up on the screen as she introduces herself. “In this little video, I wanted to talk about our lovely couple’s amazing and fun story, especially the day they met,” She explains. “Newlyweds, I love you very much, and I hope you like this little something I put together for you.”
She blows a kiss and waves. Then in fancy lettering, “A love story” is scribbled on the top-left corner of the screen, and “A story of love” on the bottom right corner. You wonder why both phrases – which convey the same thing – are on the video, but the thought quickly slips your mind when your smiling face appears on the screen.
“State your name and occupation, please,” Your friend prompts on the video, but she’s out of the shot.
You roll your eyes amusedly. “What’s this, a trial? I’m innocent, your honor!” You giggle, making everybody at the venue laugh.
You answer the question anyway, and your name also appears written on the video.
“For the purpose of… this, I’m the bride?” It sounds like a question, and you make a face, unsure of yourself.
She never explained what the video was for, in your defense.
Right after you, Henry appears. “I’m Henry, and I am the lucky groom,” He smiles brightly, looking as handsome as always.
“So, tell me, how did you meet Henry?” Your friend asks, and your smile is instant as you remember that exact day as if it was yesterday. “How did you meet Y/N?” She asks him in the next scene, and his reaction is the same.
“I was hosting a brunch,” You start, your eyes unfocused as the vivid memory plays in your mind. “And it was morning when Henry arrived.”
When he reapers, you can tell it’ll cut back and forth between you. “I was throwing a party, and she was the one that came around. I think it was three in the afternoon,” Henry replies, quite differently from you.
You scoff mockingly, looking at him by your side. He chuckles, brushing it off with a shoulder tic before you turn back to the screen.
“And I said: ‘Hi, come on in, make yourself at home,’ You know, something of the sorts,” You shrug off.
Your betrothed chuckles in the video, scratching his chin in thought. “I was the one that said hello, but she didn’t hear.”
His comment makes the venue erupt in laughter. You meet Henry’s loving gaze again and squeeze his hand, making him bring yours up to press a kiss on your knuckles.
If your shared story had different and entertaining versions until now, it’d just get better!
After being asked about first impressions of one another, he replies: “She thought I was hilarious,” He says with such confidence that is endearing.
In your turn, you laugh and cover your mouth as if what you are about to say it’s an embarrassing secret.
“Oh my god, he wouldn’t stop talking! Like a lot!” You emphasize. “And I pretended to laugh the entire time,” You say very sheepishly before throwing your head back in laughter again. “That’s terrible. I feel like I need to apologize,” You add after your fit.
“Oh, I just remembered something,” He suddenly announces, and his smile is wide as the memory toy around in his head. “Her blouse was inside out,” He chuckles, eyes focused on a spot. “She’s so adorable and such a goof, isn’t she?” He looks back at the camera.
“He loved the way I was dressed,” You giggle, visibly shivering as you physically remember the feeling of him truly looking at you for the first time.
Your friend asks another question, changing the subject slightly, but Henry shakes his head.
“Yeah, the party was great! Everybody was having a good time, but I only remember searching for her when she wasn’t near me. Trying to get another look, you know?” He says.
In turn, you scoff. “No one was dancing! I don’t remember who was taking care of the music, but it was terrible!” Your genuine response makes the room fills with laughter another time. “At least everyone had a drink in hand and ate something.”
“Oh, yes. The food was wonderful. Everything homemade,” Your partner assures with a proud nod naively.
“I bought everything off Tesco,” You rushedly confess, throwing your head back in laughter again.
Back to the present moment, you’re wiping the new tears from the corners of your eyes due to laughter. You love the good energy around the room as your guests and yourself enjoy the video your Maid of Honor made.
Now you understand both phases in the beginning, and although you and Henry have very distinct versions of the day you met, you love both of them and the feelings they bring you.
However, something changes in the next second of the video. For the first time, on a split-screen, you two appear together.
“When I saw him, I knew it (When I saw her, I knew it),” You both say simultaneously. “She (He) was the person I’d spend the rest of my life with,” You continue.
Glancing at him, you’re surprised to see he’s already looking at you. Then you exchange a knowing look. It seems like you got on the same page in this part of the video.
“And that’s how I realized that life put him (her) in my life,” You say in unison. “On that Tuesday (Thursday) of September (December),” Your responses overlap with each other, drawing amused reactions from people.
“That’s why I remember everything, of every second,” Both of you state, which is downright ironic at this point. “Ask me anything that I remember.”
“I remember,” You proudly declare with a grin but, this time, by yourself.
And so does Henry. “I remember,” He nods with a beam.
The video ends there, and the room erupts in applause, whistles, and hollered praises.
Words couldn’t describe the dazzling feelings you’re experiencing if you wanted to. You can’t be more grateful to your friend for this treat either. And, of course, the man you now get to call your husband.
The spotlight of attention returns to you as you’re exchanging the most enamored gaze ever. Henry leans in and presses his lips to your forehead, making you close your eyes. Slowly, you allow all those remarkable sensations to wash over you.
When you reopen your eyes, you smile at him before looking at your Maid of Honor. “Thank you so much for this extremely thoughtful gift. We both loved it a lot.”
Henry confirms with a head gesture.
“Words won’t do justice to how much you’re special to me. I’m just so grateful I get to share such a special and meaningful moment of my life, like this one, with you,” Your voice cracks at the end, and you smile, trying to hold your tears at bay as you can see she’s doing the same. “So I can’t thank you enough.”
As the room gets loud with another round of applause and cheers, she smiles, mouthing an “I love you too” to you. Wiping your tears carefully one more time, you chuckle.
“Although, I only have one question,” You announce, making the room pipe down. “Was my blouse really inside out?” You giggle as you look back at Henry.
Your husband starts to laugh. “Yeah,” He confirms bashfully. “Yeah, it was,” He nods as your guests join you in laughter.
“Oh, God. I can’t believe it,” You shake your head in embarrassment. “I also would like to point out that my husband clearly has a lot of experience with interviews,” You remark, addressing the room. “I feel kinda bad after saying I was pretending to laugh at his jokes when he’s all loving and caring,” You rejoin your friends and family in fun.
“I do tell bad jokes,” Henry concedes in your defense. “I love how genuine you are, and you’re loving and caring to me, too,” You nearly melt at his famous Hollywood-star smile.
The sound of ‘aww’s’ fills the room. “You see what I’m dealing with?” You joke, making everybody chuckle.
You give him a chaste but affectionate peck on the lips. Your wedding coordinator decides it’s time for the first dance to open the floor to make your guests burn some energy after the buffet.
And so, feeling the most secure and happy while pressed against your husband’s chest with his arms around you, you swing slowly. By sharing the same air, the same space, and the same feelings, you can’t think of anything better.
It all started on a Tuesday morning in September for you. But for him, it was a Thursday afternoon in December. Now, it is a Saturday evening in November that you’ll never forget.
You will remember. Everything. Of every second.
#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill x you#henry cavill imagine#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill rpf#henry cavill x y/n#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill headcanon#the witcher#geralt of rivia#august walker#clark kent#superman#sherlock holmes
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Exactly What You Need
Exactly What You Need
Summary: It seems Sherlock understands your needs better than you do.
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, rough sex, outdoor sex, size kink, breeding kink, slight ass worship? (Sherlock just has such a nice ass what can I say?), old timey views on sex, brief mention of body changing during and after pregancy- Let me know if I forgot anything!
Word Count: 3k
Any typos are my own.
A/N: This was a request from anon for some size kink with Sherlock. But I accidentally deleted the ask from my inbox.😭 I hope you see this, anon! Sorry it took a while, I just wanted to make this perfect for you.💖 Please let me know what you think.
Your favorite place to sit was on the lap of your newly wedded husband. His warmth enveloped you completely. You sat cradled in his lap like a doll, the back of your head rested on his chest. As he loomed behind you like a predator, you could feel his breath brush over the top of your hair.
Despite his intimidating statue, you knew Sherlock would never harm you. He had always been gentle and romantic when it came to you. Just like today, he planned a perfect picnic under the old oak tree that adorned the estate.
The two of you reclined against the tree’s strong trunk, taking in the beautiful summer day. Sherlock was reading a novel as you rested your eyes. His hands absentmindedly rubbed your arms and shoulders, occasionally taking a break to turn the page.
As always, his gentle caressing began to set your body ablaze. The heat from his palms caused goosebumps to rise on your skin. You knew he felt them as he hummed.
“Are you cold, darling?” He asked you softly, looking away from his novel to gaze at you.
You turned your head to look at him, smiling bashfully as you shook your head quickly.
“N-No, I’m alright.”
“Hm. If you say so.” He nodded, not looking convinced as he turned his attention back to the book. You caught the corner of his lip twitching, almost smirking.
As he looked away, you bit your lip. He continued stroking your arm, making it even harder to relax. You tried to suppress your urges, letting out a soft sigh.
You’d been wanting him all day. You couldn’t remember a time you had yearned so intensely. Lunch had taken your mind off your desire, but now that he was so close and touching you so tenderly, it was harder to ignore.
Your eyes rolled back when he squeezed your shoulder, having to stifle a moan. You couldn’t help but squirm. Moisture started to build between your legs, damping your bloomers. A grimace flashed on your face from the uncomfortable sensation.
Sherlock must have decided to ignore your wiggling. You braved a quick peek back at your husband. He was still not looking at you. So, you felt confident enough to let your hips roll once more. There was a vague pressure on your clit when you rubbed your legs together.
A shiver ran through you from the bottom of your spine. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, squirming unconsciously to chase the feeling. Images of Sherlock filled your mind.
The sight of his nude body, shoulders spread wide and huge chest covered in soft hair. His biceps bulged. You could barely get your arms around the man because his abdomen was so thick and muscular. You fantasized about the feeling of his weight on top of you as he thrusted his big, thick cock in and out of you.
He was a giant in every way possible.
Another harsh tremble ripped through you. You tensed when you heard him close the book. The soft thud made your snap eyes open. You knew you were caught now.
“My, my. Aren’t you a wiggly little thing today?” He observed, lifting his eyes to you.
His smirk was evident when you hesitantly looked back at him. Those eyes you fall in love with were full of mischief. He dropped the novel to place both his hands on your shoulders. He gave them a squeeze, causing you to hiccup. He chuckled, knowing exactly what his actions were doing to you.
“I… I’m sorry.” You whispered, ashamed of yourself.
Your yearning was wanton. You should not be grinding against this man like a sinful whore, even if he is your husband. This sort of thing belongs in your shared bed, not out in the open where anyone can stumble along and see you.
Before you could lower your head in embarrassment, his fingers gripped your chin. Your eyes met again, and his hand left your chin to hold your cheek in his palm. His thumb stroked your bottom lip.
“Darling, what have I told you about being ashamed of your desire?” He could already read you like a book, despite the short time you’ve been married. After all, he was a detective.
“That I should never feel guilty about my desire.” You managed to whisper, knowing he expected an answer.
“And?” He pressed you to continue, slowly leaning down to press his lips against your shoulder. You gasped.
“A-And that all my urges are completely natural.” You breathed out as he peppered kisses all along your shoulder and neck.
“And who will always take care of these urges you have?” He murmured.
“You will.” You whispered, his curls tickling your cheek as he lathered your flesh with affection.
“Because?”
You gulped, “Because you are my husband.”
“Yes. And it is my husbandly duty to fulfill every need or want you might have.” He inhaled against your hair, taking in a big whiff of your scent.
“And I know exactly what you need right now.” He growled against your neck. The sound was almost menacing. It still ignited a fire deep in your gut.
You yelped loudly when you were suddenly flipped around and pinned to the blanket on which you had your picnic. He quickly hovered over you. Any sunlight beaming down on you from between the leaves on the tree was eclipsed by his enormous physique.
How did a man of his size move so fast? More so, how did he toss you around like nothing but a sack of potatoes. And why did you love it so much?
Your heart began to beat faster in your chest. All you could do was stare up at him in a daze, his manhandling of you only made you that much more aroused. You laid under him as he grinned, his eyes dangerous as he began to lift your skirts.
Your eyes widened when you felt this, tensing up. You hiccuped as you lifted your hands to his chest to stop him.
“Sherlock!” You whispered frantically. “O-Out here?”
You took a look around at the great outdoors that surrounded you and your husband. Never had you made love with him outside the comfort of your home. It was rare that you did it outside your bed. He did, however, manage to seduce you in other rooms a few times. His study, the kitchen, even once in the bath. Oh that was delightful. The memory caused you to leak into your underthings.
The detective watched as you bit your lip again. He grinned, nodding. You shivered when his fingers played with the hem of your dress and danced along the flesh of your ankles.
“Yes, here. What’s wrong, darling? Don’t you want me to make love to you?” He cocked his head, smirking playfully.
“I want you more than anything.” You whispered, blushing as you looked at his chest.
“Then we shall do it here. Though ‘making love’ would not be the best term for what I’m about to do to you.” He chuckled.
You shivered. Oh.
“My dear, we will rut like beasts. It’s really only fitting I take you while outdoors like this. It makes me feel that much more… animalistic.” He growled after pausing to think of the right word to use. You clenched your legs together, whining for him now.
Never had you seen him be so primal. You were thoroughly enjoying it, however. And you wanted even more.
“Please, Sherlock. I need it.” You finally admitted defeat with your desire.
He grinned as he watched you submit to your passion, he continued in lifting your skirts. His tongue came out to lick his lips. As he sought to expose you, you studied his features. His expression was one of hunger. He was starving for your body.
He tugged off your bloomers after he bunched your dress up around your middle. You jumped and whimpered when you felt the cool breeze upon your warm cunt. A deep growl rumbled inside Sherlock’s chest as he looked down at the sight between your legs.
“Look at you...” He murmured under his breath as he gazed at your wet flower. He licked his lips, taking a look at the beauty before him. His gaze made you squirm.
You watched him quickly get to work undoing the buttons of his trousers. You licked your lips at the bulge in his pants, knowing soon you’d get to see your husband’s lovely cock. He pulled out his length, stroking it a few times as you stared at him intently. His thumb rubbed against his leaking tip. The sight made you whimper.
Sherlock’s chuckle snapped you out of it. You turned red, caught ogling his magnificent manhood. He grinned, bending down to kiss you deeply.
He kept his lips on yours as he spread your legs wider so he could fit between them. You felt him rub the tip of his cock up and down your slit, moaning at the sensation.
“You are absolutely soaked, my darling. I wonder if I could just…” He trailed off, catching you off guard when he sank into you in one smooth thrust.
You gasped loudly, the delicious stretch of his length breaching your hole made your brain go haywire. There was always a little bit of a sting whenever he entered, but it mixed delightfully with the irresistible fullness you felt when he was completely inside you. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a moan.
“A-Ah…” That was all you could whimper as you tilted your head back, driving your nails into his clothed biceps.
“Shh, shh my sweet darling. It’s alright. This is what you’ve been begging for.” He shushed you softly, his hand coming up to touch your face.
Quickly, you turned your head to nuzzle his palm. His huge hand almost engulfed your entire face. With your eyes closed, you peppered heated little kisses along his skin. He hummed at the sweet affection, nuzzling your temple as he still rested inside you. You just needed a moment, that’s all.
“Your body was begging me to stretch it… to fill it with my cock. Oh, I know.” He cooed a little when you let out a soft hiccup. His vulgar language made your delicate walls pulsate around him, squeezing his cock even tighter. He grunted sharply.
“It’s a tight fit, isn’t it, love? An awfully big peg for such a tiny hole.” He snarled a little and straightened his spine so that he was fully stretched out above you.
With your height difference, your head only reached his chest. You leaned in quickly to bury your face in his vest. His handkerchief was still in his breast pocket. It smelled faintly of orange and clove from the cologne he dabbed on it earlier. Underneath the spicy sweet scent, a hint of tobacco lingered from the pipe he’d smoked before lunch.
When the smell of him entered your nose, you let out a groan and unconsciously clenched around him. It seemed like every little thing was making you ache for him. You were certain you had never been this needy in your life. He moaned when you squeezed him, tilting his head back for a moment.
“Oh yes, you’re ready for it…Prepare yourself, darling. Hold onto me.” He warned you, his voice deep.
Sherlock growled, bucking his hips. When the tip of his cock brushed against your sensitive cervix, you let out a soft cry. Wrapping your arms and legs around him, your mouth dropped open in a breathy moan. You clung to the enormous detective, knowing he was about to give you the plowing of a lifetime.
He propped himself up on his forearms and began thrusting at a brutal pace. You were sobbing into his chest with each piston of his hips, biting his vest to try and silence yourself. Even if your estate was a little ways outside town, your sounds were likely to attract anyone close by.
“Don’t you dare muffle yourself. I want anyone or anything lurking nearby to hear you scream as I take my beautiful wife.” He slowed his hips for a moment to murmur to you.
A snarl vibrated in his chest before he pushed back inside you and rested. A choked little whimper fell out of your mouth when he somehow managed to thrust deeper inside you. He grunted and panted like a beast. His trousers had slipped lower on his hips, exposing the top of his firm buttocks.
Your hands reached down to dig your nails into one of his cheeks, attempting to squeeze him closer. It wasn’t enough, you needed more of him. You needed all of him. Your second hand sank further into his trousers to hold his other cheek, allowing you to fully grasp his ass.
Sherlock moaned as your hands pressed into his bum, causing his muscles to spasm. You took the time to admire the plump cheeks that you always stole peeks at. Each time you caught a glimpse of his wonderful behind, you felt compelled to squeeze it.
However, it never felt appropriate to do so. Until now, that is. This felt like a perfect time to hold your husband’s ass. You massaged the firm muscles he had, occasionally squeezing. You even raised your hips in an attempt to presuade him to keep fucking you.
A deep chuckle left his lips. Sherlock almost sounded predatory.
“You dirty little minx. Yes, I know exactly what you need.” He repeated his words from before, sucking in a breath before he resumed his previous aggressive thrusting.
Each time he rammed his cock inside you, he would somehow nuzzle himself farther into your poor cunt, elicating loud and needy sobs from your mouth. The wind was knocked out of you with each thrust of his hips. The both of you groaned in unison.
It felt like he was in your guts by now, his manhood making itself known as it delved into your body roughly. Both the dull pain and overwhelming pleasure brought tears to your eyes. Your tears made a wet patch on his rustled shirt.
It hurt so good. But you needed more.
Sherlock bent back down to look into your eyes, your cheeks soaked. You had no idea what you wanted, you just knew that whatever it was- you needed it badly. The ache inside you had not been eased, and you knew one orgasm would not cut it.
Your desire ran deeper than a wonderful climax. You wanted to feel him inside you for as long as you could after he was finished fucking you. Hopefully the weight of him rested comfortably in your womb for a very long time.
“Please! I-I…” You hiccuped, cut off by his surprisingly soft hushing. You pleaded with him to take the ache away. If he knew what you needed, why wasn’t he helping?
Despite his gentle comforting, his hips never stopped slamming into you. You felt his hand cup your cheek as you wailed in pleasure, your eyes pinched shut. His thumb wiping a tear away made you open them, gazing up at your husband as he fucked you.
“I’m preparing you to take me, my love.” He grunted, his curls falling in his eyes. “To take me entirely. To take my seed. It’s what you’ve been begging for all along, darling. Your fertile womb is just pulsating with the desire to be bred by me.”
You hiccuped when he said that. Is that what you’ve been yearning for? To be bred by this man? By the way your cunt clenched down onto him, the answer was yes.
With his forehead pressed against yours, the detective let out a growl. It was becoming increasingly hard to concentrate as your body burned with desire. Desire to have your husband’s seed planted in your body. You were becoming impatient now that you understood what you wanted.
You squeezed his ass again, urging him to quicken his pace even more. The sooner you were swollen with his brood, the better. A raspy chuckle escaped him, giving you just what you wanted as he plowed you even harder.
“Yes. I will give you exactly what you need. My seed will take root inside you, where my child will grow large and heavy in your womb. Each day that you carry my spawn will be a reminder of who you belong to.” He hissed in your ear, never ceasing his pounding.
You gripped him tighter, gasping as his deft fingers rubbed circles on your clit. A cry left you, clawing at his flesh as he groaned. It only made you wetter, his cock making a squelching noise as he rocked in and out of you.
“Then, after you give birth to my strong and healthy son, I will fill you up again. And again. U-Until your body cannot take anymore.” Sherlock’s voice began to shake, you knew he was close.
The constant pressure on your nub was making your vision fuzzy. His words made it too much to go on. With one more thrust, you tumbled over the edge. Your cunt clamped down onto his throbbing cock. Sobbing, you held onto him tightly.
Sherlock groaned loudly and tossed his head back. Buried all the way inside you, he released his thick seed against your cervix. It was hot, which only fuelled your orgasm even more. You gasped, his spunk never seeming to end as he pumped you completely full.
The two of you rutted against one another, chasing your highs before you floated down together. Sherlock’s breath hit your skin as he planted languid kisses along your neck, both of you panting.
“The feeling of my children will live on in your womb forever, my love. I will leave your body with my mark; my pups.” He growled softly, his voice still thick from desire.
You felt a shiver run through you. If his offspring were similar in size to him, you knew you would never forget what it felt like to carry and birth the next generation of Holmes. Giving him a strong legacy will undoubtedly take a toll on your body.
And you wouldn’t want it any other way.
A/N: Sorry if my breeding kink overpowered the size kink. 😅 Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed.
Taglist: @sunshine-with-daisy @leigh70 @islacharlotte @lysarria @kebabgirl67 @pandaxnienke
Credits: Divider- @firefly-graphics
#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock x reader#henry!sherlock holmes x reader#henry!sherlock x reader#sherlock fanfic#sherlock imagine#henry cavill fic#henry cavill characters#henry!sherlock
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The Experiment
Sherlock Holmes x reader
Masterlist
Summary: When you married Sherlock, you discovered a side to him that you would never have expected. A side that was only for you.
Author's notes: See if you can spot the line I included from a Sherlock Holmes story as a nod to Victorian Sherlock… I used a few Victorian terms in this to make it authentic, so on the off chance that you're an historian specialising in Victorian dirty talk, please be kind 😉. This is written with any Victorian Sherlock in mind, but leaning toward Henry.
Warnings/content: nsfw, shameless smut, 18+, f!reader, reader has a vagina, dirty talk (but make it Victorian), first time, marriage, breeding kink, fingering, cream pie, cunnilingus, overstimulation, discussion of safe word, mentions of blow jobs, dom Sherlock if you squint, mentioned aftercare
Marrying a gentleman like Sherlock, there was no surprise that when it came to matters of the marital bed, he was technically as inexperienced as you.
You had been delighted to learn that he had a tendency to live slobbishly from time to time despite scrubbing up exceptionally well; neglecting his hair, sleeping in, wearing his dressing gown all day, not bothering with trifles like what time you ate dinner or who was calling in when his organised chaos took over your home (especially if it was his brother Mycroft).
You were also pleased that he wasn’t a prude — in his line of work you supposed it would be difficult to be completely prudish — because you felt you could comfortably be yourself around him, which seemed such a rare treat for a woman living in these days.
But the one thing you were utterly surprised by, was the way he spoke to you about sex. And even more surprising; how completely crazed he seemed for you. It went against everything you expected of him while courting, and definitely against everything that the general public would ever imagine of him.
Always treating you entirely properly, you’d expected an awkward and perhaps uncomfortable encounter upon consummating your marriage, sure that he would not have time or care for physical affection, especially since he usually displayed such an obvious aversion to the touch of others.
On the contrary, he seemed to have a great deal of confidence as well as an intricate insight into the topic, even upon your first time together. His approach set every nerve in your body aflame before sating you completely and providing a generous offering of his pearly seed to establish itself in your belly.
When you found yourself atop your newly shared bed, at first you worried your ankles may be revealed as your dress lifted above your boots, but he didn’t seem at all phased. You supposed people did see one another in the nude once they were married, and although the thought had been eating away at your nerves, but Sherlock didn’t seem nearly as on edge, which went a long way to soothing your worries.
You’d seen this look of his before. His sparkling eyes devoured you as though you were a new and exciting mystery to be solved, and knowing him as you did, he would no doubt be filled with drive fit for a thorough investigation.
‘Do not worry, darling, I shan’t strip you of your beautiful dress just yet,’ he soothed, caressing your cheek before shedding himself of his jacket and loosening his ascot. ‘Let us start slow, we do have all night after all.’
He moved down to sit beside where you laid upon the bed, and his fingers worked to remove your boots, sending shivers tingling up your legs as his flesh eventually brushed against yours.
You watched him carefully as he rolled his sleeves up, wondering what on earth he was preparing for. You began to feel entirely like one of his experiments, and you supposed that in a way, since this was his first time too, you were. The thought made your lips curl in amusement and your heart race.
‘Have you researched sex, Sherlock?’ you asked bashfully as he lifted your skirts further and ran his fingertips, featherlight and only slightly shaky, up along the contours of your inner thighs.
Gently, he pushed your legs apart, fingers hooking under the soft fabric of your bloomers as that gorgeous curl loosened to fall over his forehead.
‘Of course I have,’ he said simply, still entirely focussed on contributing to your growing arousal. ‘One cannot possibly get something of such delicate balance down to an exact science without sufficient data… just like one cannot perform an exact art without practise. And practice, we shall…’
Your cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson at the imagery of him studying indecent books with your pleasure in mind. You were overcome with an unusual desire to squeeze your thighs together, but ignored it in favour of feeling entirely safe in his apparently capable hands. Hands that were slipping your bloomers down past your knees and dropping them unceremoniously to the floor.
His fingers began to explore your slick folds, not at all helping to cool the red hot blush that powdered your cheeks.
‘Oh, how I’ve dreamed of bedding you, my darling,’ he breathed, settling properly beside you on the bed. ‘I’m going to satisfy you in ways you cannot fathom. Don’t be shy, you’re doing so well for me.’
Your unexpected cry of pleasure tore through the otherwise silent room, his finger now slowly pumping in and out of your heat. You gripped his arm as if holding on for dear life, fearful that you might otherwise float away in this unexpected haze of bliss.
‘You feel like silk,’ he praised, voice weakening slightly. ‘That’s it, hold on to me, you’re safe. You’re going to come on my fingers first, my needy little minx. Focus on how they fill you, how they caress your inner walls. Does it excite you as it excites me?’
You nodded. Your mind was fuzzy with pleasure like you’d never known, so much so that answering verbally seemed a certain impossibility.
‘I have fantasised about taking you on my fingers,’ he whispered, low and deep into your ear, ‘how divine you would sound as you give in to your pleasure, my name slipping hungrily from between those pretty lips.’
He removed his finger then, and a whine of protest erupted from somewhere within you. You just felt so empty without his elegant digit sliding in and out of your swollen entrance, dragging against something inside that made you absolutely ravenous for more — but a new sensation soon took over and you felt disappointed no longer.
His slick coated fingers dragged up through your folds and you shuddered, all the nerve endings in your body, it seemed, set alight at once. But when he reached the throbbing nub at the apex of your sex, there was suddenly ten times the bliss you’d felt before and your body jolted upward as your scream pierced the room.
‘Ah, it seems it’s not so hard to find after all,’ he said casually, ‘I summised that most men were simply to lazy to bother with this little trick, and perhaps I was onto something. But look at you darling, how you tremble for me while I massage your pretty, soaked flower. What man wouldn’t want to witness their love so utterly wanton for their touch? To feel her blatant arousal at his very fingertips?’
Your mind had turned all but blank, the sensations shooting through your body overwhelming you as his fingers danced with perfect pressure against your clitoris.
‘Sh-Sherlock- I- oh!’
‘I know, darling, I know, you need to come for me, don’t you?’
Swiftly, he pressed his thumb to your clit and slipped a finger easily back inside, fucking you harder and faster than before, watching with delight as you unravelled beneath him.
As the lewd slapping of his fingers fucking into your sopping sex filled the room he, quite pragmatically albeit with a much darker voice than that which he uses during his usual experiments, talked you through your release.
‘This pleasure will soon overwhelm you, culminating in your orgasm. If all goes to plan, your quim will rapidly clench around my finger and there’ll be something like sparks at your clitoris, then you’ll feel a few moments of indescribable ecstasy...’
Your own fingers snapped around his wrist, feeling his steady yet vigorous movements, and you wondered how on earth anything could feel better than this, right now.
And then it hit.
‘Ah, yes, there it is. That’s it! Yes, come for me! Come for me!’
His name did indeed tear from your parted lips, shaky and breathy and desperate, and then his fingers began to slow, easing you down from your high until he gently withdrew them.
Your eyes closed as you relaxed back against the pillows, your legs shaking. You heard a humming sound that pulled you back to the present, though, and glanced across at your husband to see him gleefully sucking your slick from his fingers.
‘It is frankly a disservice to the entire human race to consider that act depraved. Mmh. And you taste like the sweetest nectar, darling... tell me, did it feel good?’
You nodded, biting your lips together.
‘There’s no shame in it, my love. Especially if it feels good.’
‘It felt exquisite,’ you breathed, punctuated with a blissful sigh, and Sherlock smiled broadly. A rare sight. ‘But what about you?’
‘I do not wish to rush you. I will be truthful, however — after watching that beautiful display, my root is as solid as a rock. Whilst I've no intention of pressuring you, I will not turn you down if you’re sure you feel sufficiently ready for me.’
‘I… I think I do,’ you whispered, and you loosened your grip from the layers of your skirt to rest a hand delicately on the broad expanse of his chest.
He gasped at the simple affection, and the reaction caused your lower lips, still throbbing with the after effects of your climax, to quiver.
‘May I?’ you asked carefully, and he nodded. Your hand trailed down gradually, until it reached his lower stomach.
Sherlock’s breath quickened, and you pushed lower still, cupping his erection.
‘Ah- ohhh-’
His eyebrows raised and his eyes fell closed as you stroked his length softly and slowly, but before you could find a proper rhythm, he quickly snapped his hips away, grabbing your hand firmly in his as he leant in to kiss you with fierce passion.
As he pulled away from your lips, he muttered, ‘I hoped to inject you with my seed, but I fear that if you continue touching me for a moment longer, the only thing filled with it will be my undergarments.’
‘Then please, Sherlock, take me-’
And take you, he did. Within a second you were pushed onto your back, and he was settling between your legs, hurriedly unfastening his trousers to release his steadily leaking arousal.
As he carefully pushed himself into you, your warmth enveloping his length, an expression of sheer bliss relaxed his handsome features.
‘Am I too big, darling?’ he panted. ‘Does it hurt?’
‘No- please, don’t stop, Sherlock, I want to be filled with your cock- filled to the brim with your blow-’
He smirked at your words. You mustn't be quite so innocent if you were using words like that.
Sherlock began to steadily roll his hips. Your core burned with an unusual pain, a pain that made you crave more.
His forehead pressed to yours, your hot breath mingling with his each time he thrust gently into you and let out a sweet little whimper.
‘I told you I’d- fantasised about- pleasuring you- ha- ahhh- I can’t deny- I’ve thought of many acts, some of which you might consider- mmh- indecent- but each flood of bliss I give to you is- ha- simply the perfect result of an experiment I’ve been dying to carry out since I met you, and- ohhh-’
His voice was so breathy and shaky now, you knew that he wouldn’t last much longer, but you wanted to give him a taste of how he’d made you feel. You wrapped your legs around his waist and dug your heels into his back, pulling him closer and signalling for him to go harder.
‘Do you- ohh- do you w-want my children, darling? Do you want me to- ah!- unleash my potent seed within these t-tender walls and- give you a child?’
‘I want nothing less,’ you breathed, thrilled at his words, and at that he snapped his hips unrelentingly, snaking a hand between your writhing bodies to massage your sensitive clit once again, and Sherlock relished in the moan his touch elicited.
‘Clever little- ohh- trick, isn’t it?’ he just about managed, and less than a second later, came with force inside you.
Your walls tightened, contracting around his thick cock to milk him of every last drop, your tightening walls taking him to a plane of existence he’d never before explored.
This orgasm felt different for you, you noted, and if either of you had been coherent enough to discuss the matter you were sure he would ask you to write it down and keep a record detailing those differences.
Nevertheless, your second peak was just as strong, and you fell weak once again as Sherlock’s seed dribbled onto your thighs and he rolled off you, panting.
‘Darling- that was- oh, it was-’ he muttered, half delirious. ‘You feel- good god, you feel-’
‘I came again,’ you admitted, proud this time, knowing it would please him.
‘I know. I felt it,’ he smirked, and then, almost as if he read your mind, ‘did it feel different?’
‘Yes,’ you chuckled.
‘Oh how wonderful! I should write a monograph on the matter. Only for your eyes of course — although it could benefit at least half of the population if there were more literature on women’s pleasure.’
‘So, a filthy love letter just for me, with a touch of the scientific?’
‘You understand me so well,’ he cooed, stroking your cheek. ‘This is precisely why I adore you.’ And suddenly, there was a sparkle in his eyes that you’d seen when he reached a breakthrough. ‘Tell me, have you ever heard of cunnilingus?’
You shook your head. ‘Not… really. I may have gleaned a… basic understanding-’
‘It’s precisely the act I mentioned may be considered indecent, but I would very much like the opportunity to try it with you.’
‘Tell me about it?’ you breathed excitedly.
‘Perhaps it would be easier to show you. Do you trust me?’
‘Yes. Do it,’ you said eagerly, hungry for as much as he was willing to give you.
‘Consider this another experiment… if you dislike it, you must tell me and I shall end it, however my understanding is that if it works, you will not be entirely in your right mind so we must set a code in place.’
‘How about a word that we don’t associate with sexual activities?’ you suggested.
‘Precisely. “Mycroft” it is.’
You burst into a simultaneous fit of laughter, until he silenced you with another, fervent kiss.
‘You might need to loosen your corset for this one. Providing three orgasms in restrictive clothing is no way to treat one’s wife. And what if there are four, or five? I would never forgive myself.’
Taking his advice, you began to strip, soon revealing your breasts to him.
‘Oh, darling, what a perfect start...’ He wrapped his lips around a nipple and sucked lightly, his fingers toying with the other. He was pleased to feel you squirm beneath him and jolts of pleasure shot from your chest to your core and back again.
‘Oh- I never knew they could- mmh- feel like that…’ you groaned, but once again he left you cold to move onto something new, shimmying lower to settle his face at the apex of your thighs.
His tongue lashed warm and wet against your sex, circling your nub, exploring your folds and lapping at your entrance to collect your combined juices.
The way you shuddered had him fighting off a second erection. Not now — he needed to concentrate, and was hoping that with this new method he could give you multiple orgasms in one sitting. His own pleasure could wait.
He hummed into your quim as though he were enjoying a long awaited meal, and you quickly fell apart once again as his hums of delight vibrated through your core.
‘Sherlock,’ you whined, ‘Oh, Sherlock…’
‘One more?’ Came his muffled response, his deep growl reverberating through your weakened body. It didn’t take long for another peak to take over, your mind completely clouded in a haze of overstimulation.
‘I think it’s time for a break now, my love,’ he muttered softly, coming up to hold you, his pretty lips coated in your juices. ‘I rather think that this has been an experiment I would take pleasure in repeating regularly, if you’ll allow me.’
‘I’d be delighted,’ you sighed dreamily, already feeling the pull of sleep.
‘I will also mention that, as soon as you’re comfortable enough, I would rather like to experiment with my own orgasms. See how they feel inside your hand… or your mouth…’
‘Yes, yes I would… I would like…’
‘Shh… for now, it’s time to sleep. Rest, my darling wife you’ve done so well for me.’
You nodded, and that was the last you remembered of the evening.
A thin blade of warm sunlight woke you in the morning. You found yourself comfortably wrapped inside his shirt. He’d cleaned you up after you drifted off to sleep, and you rose feeling refreshed and relaxed.
Creaking open the bedroom door, you heard his handsome voice floating through. He had a client, and when you peeked through the gap you could see that your husband looked impeccably well put together. Unlike you; if anyone saw you like this… you dreaded to think. You smiled to yourself, though, wondering what his stoic looking client would think if he knew what Sherlock had spent all night doing before meeting with him. You bet Sherlock could teach him a thing or two.
You could only hope this case would be too boring for him so he would return to your bed, for you entirely planned to take Sherlock into your mouth the moment you were able. To taste him. To give him as many releases as he had given you. To see him entirely, blissfully weakened by pleasure…
#not s f w 💀#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes x you#sherlock holmes smut#sherlock x reader#sherlock smut#henry cavill sherlock holmes#victorian sherlock#henry cavill#sherlocksoft writes
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Big
Pairing :Henry Cavill x reader
Warning: Daddy!DomHenry, Smut, Oral, Size Kink
Everything below the cut is NSFW I won’t lie.
Summary : Henry loves how big he looks in comparison to you.
“On your knees.” he commands calmly. You bring yourself to the floor as he unzips his pants. He brings himself out of his underwear practically slapping you in the face as it springs free.
“Sorry.” he chuckles, fumbling to hold himself down.You laugh at the juxtaposition of his handsome face and figure, that exudes this constantly flustered personality. You know he loves seeing his size next to you.He caresses your cheek softly, then replaces his hand with his cock. You look up at him, eyes wide and innocent.
“Open your mouth.” his voice is stern while he gently slaps himself against your face.
“You look so fucking cute like this.” he can tell his compliment perks you up and he does not stop there.
“Come now, open that pretty little mouth for daddy.” he says, tapping his member on your lips. A bit of his precum leaks onto you and he uses the tip of his cock to spread it across your lips. The sigh that leaves his body makes your heart skip. And when you part your lips slightly, he presses down with his thumb popping himself into your mouth. Your eyes widen a bit at the surprise of the expanse he takes up ,practically engaging your gag reflex.
“Fuck that’s good babe.” he says grabbing your hair, angling your face further up so he simply fits straight into your throat. “Mmmm.good girl. Take me just like that.” he praises. You can feel your insides light up at that positive response and can’t help yourself from feeling your pussy juices drip down your leg. He extends his arm down to you, and when you move to take it he lifts you up, swinging you over his shoulder, to the bed.He sets you down much gentler than you had expected.
“Open your legs baby” he coos while hovering over you. You try to squeeze them tighter, almost embarrassed by how much you were leaking all over his bed but, he works one strong hand in between the middle of your upper thighs and spreads them before you get the chance to continue your protest.
“It’s to big” you protest but,he hushes you. Slowly he pushes into you, deeper and deeper, letting out a low growl once he finally finds himself fully inside.
“That’s it darling, make space for me.” he whispers. You can’t stop the noises that escape your lips as he ruts into you,complementing and praising you the whole way.
#henry cavill#henry cavill reader#henry cavill smut#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill x female reader#henry cavill gifs#henrycavillgf#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill fic#henry cavill fandom#henry cavill fanfiction#henrycavillfan#henry cavill witcher#henry cavill sherlock holmes#henry cavill sherlock x reader#henrycavill rp#henrycavilledit#henry cavill imagine#henry cavill sex#henry cavill series#smut#sexy stories#henrycavillxreader#henry cavill daddy#henry cavill drabble#size k!nk
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Bewitched (Sherlock Holmes x Reader) [Request]
hii, if you taking requests, you could do sherlock holmes (of enola holmes) x reader fic with a pride and prejudice quote?? thank you so much!! ♡ Quote: “You have bewitched me…body and soul.”—Requested by @folklorecavill
I apologize for this feeling a little OOC, but I tried!
Warnings: none
Gif Source: henricavyll
Sherlock found himself on your doorstep once again, calling on you.
It wasn’t until you descended the stairs and entered the receiving room that he suddenly froze, the feelings that had driven him to your door immobilizing him. He wanted nothing more than to flee and at the same time stay to enjoy your presence. The feelings were both unusual and regular—unusual because as a man who took great pride in divorcing emotion from reason, it was irregular for him to be so arrested by feeling; regular because it only ever seemed to happen around you.
The furrow between your brows reappeared. “Mr. Holmes. How may I help you?”
Sherlock swallowed thickly, words lodged in his throat. A distant part of himself regarded his reaction with distrust bordering on horror. He was Sherlock Holmes. Speechlessness was not in his being.
The furrow between your brows deepened. The sight of it struck of a chord of distress within his chest, ratcheting up the mounting alarm he felt.
It was too much.
Words swam up his throat suddenly, and he blurted, “You have bewitched me!”
You took a step back, disconcerted by the unschooled outburst. Sherlock withdrew into himself, struggling to compose himself as he heard his own words echoing in his ears. He did not believe in superstitions, they being instruments for the uneducated masses to process that which they did not care to understand, but he had dared to say bewitched as though it were true.
It had to be, did it not? How else to explain his uncharacteristic behavior? The whirlwind of feelings buzzing beneath his skin and making him physically ill?
Moderating his voice as best he could, he repeated, the words springing to his lips and spilling over through a thick throat, “You have bewitched me…body and soul.”
Surprise transitioned by increments into disbelief, followed by cautious optimism. You glanced away demurely, pausing to gather a response.
Sherlock’s heart thudded in his ears. He tried to bat the feeling away, hating how beholden he was to your response, whatever it was, his stomach twisting.
Deliver me from this torment, he thought, pleading. What fresh hell was he being subjected to?
“You mean to say you think only of me?” you asked carefully, not meeting his gaze yet.
“Like a lesion on the brain,” he answered. The words did not strike him as anything but true.
You laughed. “A lesion on the brain, yes.”
He frowned, hesitating. He could hear Mycroft chastising him—not merely for fumbling social interactions but for even succumbing to a woman’s charms in the first place—and the ghostly sound of his brother’s voice in his skull nearly made him storm from the room, embarrassment and shame working to displace the other feelings he had. Shaken by the emotions, he struggled to remain steadfast. Pursuing killers down harrowing avenues had never instilled such trepidation within him.
“And if I told you the same?”
Sherlock glanced at you sharply, his brow furrowing. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“I think of you too often to be…salubrious,” you said, a note of laughter chased by distress in your voice. “As you said, a lesion on the brain.”
Hope fluttered in his chest, making him sick even as he felt himself chasing the feeling.
“In that regard, I suppose you also have bewitched me…body and soul.”
Silence stretched in the quiet room, so complete that Sherlock was sure you could hear the thundering of his heart.
“I…I’m afraid I do not know how to proceed,” he managed to say. He had never found himself in such a predicament.
You smiled lopsidedly, then drew near him. Your hand reached out to brush his, first the back of your knuckles against his, then your fingers twining with his as he responded in kind.
“I’m not sure how,” you murmured, “but we can learn together, can’t we?”
#Sherlock Holmes x Reader#Sherlock Holmes#Sherlock Holmes imagine#Henry Cavill x Reader#Henry Cavill#Henry Cavill imagine#Henry!Sherlock#Cavill!Holmes#Enola Holmes#requests
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Sherlock x fem reader-My Wife.
Yns Pov.
Mrs Holmes, Mrs Holmes, I still can not believe it's true.
Even a year later, I still can not believe that it's true, that I Yn (Y.L.N) is married to Sherlock Holmes himself.
And today, during our wedding day, I'll get a chance to help with a case.
Because Sherlock has said that he needs a woman's thinking, and according to him I would like to follow a really exciting case.
And he has a very good score, I would really like a good case, I have read almost every detective book like Sherlock and I have at home in our library and unfortunately I have not received any cases due to the fact that I am a female detective.
Sherlock knows I love reading detective stories daily and it's a little comical that I married a detective.
Yn: I have a bad feeling about this Sherlock, you understand that no one will take me seriously.
Sherlock: My love, they will take you seriously, you are the smartest woman I have ever met, apart from my mother and little sister.
Yn: I hope you'm right.
Sherlock: I'm always right my love.
Yn: You're not always right.
(Jumpskip)
Lestrad: Aa Sherlock good to se you, What is she doing here! You know that a crime scene investigation is not for a woman.
Sherlock: She is my wife, and both you and I know he Yn is the perfect help during this police case the young woman who has disappeared is only two years younger than her. Yn is the only one of us who can know how she thinks.
Thank goodness Sherlock said something before me, really hate when men look down on us women.
We women can be as smart as the men we can even be smarter than them, I gave Sherlock a kiss on his cheek and said.
Yn: Thank you dear husband.
Well gentlemen let's start working we have a missing woman to find and I think her parents will be happier the sooner we find her.
I told them both and then I went to Lestrad and asked him very kindly.
Yn : Mr Lastrad, can you please show me Miss Marywhater's bedroom and while I'm in there, I prefer to be alone so I am not disturbed.
( Jumpskip again sorry).
I walked around the young woman's room and I got to be there myself I really did not have time with police officers who say being a detective is not for a woman. As I walked around there, I began to observe my surroundings.
Yns mind:
She seems to be an ordinary woman, Loves her family and friends but she is very dissatisfied with her parents' choices but it is a matter of course no woman wants to get married many want to marry out of love.
Nothing in her room is broken so there is no sign of violence and her mother told her that the day she disappeared, her bedroom window was open so it excludes one thing that she was not forced to follow.
I continued to walk towards the woman's bookshelf and began to pull my fingers along the books. She seems to love reading books specific love books, my fingers stopped at a very famous romantic novel, Romeo and Juliet. You could see from the book's appearance that it was the one she read often, I decided to open the book where she had stopped reading and what I was met by was that she had cut a small compartment in the dock, and in the compartment there was a lots of love letters from one and the same man.
Yns mind.
Now all the pieces fall into place a young woman deeply in love with a man she can not marry according to her parents. The young couple decides to run away from each other, the case is resolved must bring these letters to Sherlock.
A woman can not be a detective HA.
Sherlocks Pov:
Lestrad: This is pointless, do not take Sherlock badly but your wife will not find any. Me and my very best men have already searched the entire bedroom and we found nothing.
I was very prepared to scold him but was stopped by Yn coming into the living room with a smile on her face and a very proud look on her face.
Yn: I have already solved the case Mr and Mrs Marywhater's daughter is in Paris, this in my hand is a lot of love letters from one and the same man named Jonathan Ericsson.
And in the letters she has explained how she does not want to marry the man her parents have chosen for her and in the last letter it said when he will come and pick her up and then they will flee to Paris.
And guess where I found the letters somewhere in her bookshelf hidden inside her favorite book, it seems that you and your cops did not check properly.
She said to him and gave him the letters then she went up to me you could really see the shock on his face. She stood next to me and hugged my arm wow what a woman she smiled at me I smiled back at her then I looked at Lestrad and said.
Sherlock: You heard what Yn said, so you tell Mr and Mrs Marywhaters that their daughter is well and happy.
Then we left, and just when we got out I stopped and turned Yn so that she stood in front of me, before she had time to say something I kissed her she was not ready at first but then she kissed me back, wow I really married a amazing woman.
The end.
#sherlock x you#enola 2#enola holmes#henry!sherlock holmes x reader#wattpad#wattpad story#wattpadstories#henry cavill#henry sherlock
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we'll be alright
summary : in which they fight but there's no doubt that they'll end up alright.
pairing : sherlock holmes x reader
warnings : slight spoiler for enola holmes 2, ooc!sherlock, slight angst
author's note : so, hi!! i love you, thank you for sticking around, i love you!! <3
tagged : @0oolookitsme
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“sherlock?”
“enola. what are you doing here?” sherlock questioned, swaying as he tried to focus on his sister. “it’s not safe. there are scary people about”
“yes, let me know when you meet one,” enola sighed, walking towards him and standing close in case he fell over. “brother, are you quite yourself?”
“i’m fine, it was just a disagreement over a glass of wine and whose wine it was,” sherlock waved her off, looking around. “there was another disagreement that i had, not here, no. at home. it quite upset me. very much, in fact.”
“you fought with y/n?” enola asked, her eyebrows raising. she absolutely adored y/n and to hear that her brother and her sister-in-law were fighting was a shock considering they were totally smitten with each other.
“i find after wine, it’s very difficult to make your arms and legs move,” sherlock completely ignored her question, swaying dangerously. enola rushed to support, a wince escaping her as sherlock leaned on her for support. “i don’t usually imbibe but i’m not a case, you see. it’s proven rather tricky”
“cab,” enola called for a carriage, walking while supporting her brother’s weight, losing her footing every once in a while during their very short walk to the side of the road.
“hello,” both the holmes�� siblings greeted the driver, moving to sit inside.
“where are we going?” sherlock asked, looking at enola for answers.
“221 baker street,” enola replied, helping him get in the cab.
the ride to 221 baker street was filled with silence, with enola occasionally trying to ask about y/n and sherlock mindless chatter about his latest case.
the pair of siblings exited the cab, paying the driver and walked to the front door. after opening it, enola stood with sherlock in front of 221a and stopped, looking at her brother for any sort of indication that he was going to open it.
“that’s a and i’m b,” sherlock mumbled, his eyes unfocused as he first pointed at the door in front of them and then at the stairs going to the upper level.
enola sighed, rolling her eyes slightly as she moved over to the staircase. she looked at the number of stairs they’d have to climb before looking at her drunk brother.
“i didn’t know you had steps,” enola mentioned, wanting nothing more than to just sleep and wake up in a week or so.
“one should always have steps to avoid people stepping on you,” sherlock said, his words slurring together as he stood there. “that’s a tip, you should probably write that down.”
“alright,” enola started as she let go of him slightly and helped him lean against the wall, “how about i go upstairs and get y/n and she can help me get you upstairs?”
“y/n?” sherlock’s attention shifted to enola, his head leaning on the wall. “i don’t know if she’ll be here.”
“why not?” enola asked, worry growing in the pit of her stomach. had the fight really been that bad?
“she was quite upset with me,” sherlock spoke, his words stringing together to a somewhat coherent sentence. “i wouldn’t be surprised if she chose to go and stay with her sister for the time being.”
“we’re not at all done with this conversation as i’m very eager to know just how you’ve messed it up with the most loving and caring woman but we do need to get you upstairs,” enola said, her tone of voice sharp as she supported sherlock and guided him towards the first step. “all right, lift your left leg.”
“enola?” a voice questioned from the top of the stairs, making both the siblings look up. “and sherlock? what happened?”
“y/n!” enola exclaimed with relief in her voice, excited to see her sister-in-law and to get some help. “could you please help me in getting your drunk husband in the apartment?”
“y/n, love,” sherlock called out but his voice was ignored by both the ladies, leaving him with a frown on his face.
“oh my, i’m so sorry,” y/n rushed down the stairs, her dress flailing behind her as she went to sherlock’s other side and supported him. “did you get him here all by yourself?”
“had to,” enola informed, climbing up one step at a time. “he was drunk and got thrown out of an establishment.”
“god,” y/n mumbled, ignoring sherlock’s attempts to talk to her. it was obvious that she was angry with him. “i’m sorry you had to see him like this, enola.”
“it’s alright,” enola replied in her cheerful voice, the one that made y/n smile at the girl. the company of three finally reached the top of the stairs and y/n opened the door. “i can hold this incident over his head for years to come. at least, until he does something else.”
“i got him from here,” y/n assured the girl, her hands going over her husband’s shoulders as she supported him. “you go, get freshened up."
“alright,” with that enola went off in the direction of the bathroom, leaving sherlock and y/n alone.
“you should sit down, sherlock,” y/n said to her husband, leading him to the couch in the corner of the room.
“you’re right,” sherlock mumbled, tripping as he moved across the carpet. “of course you are, darling.”
sherlock sat on the couch with a grunt falling from his lips, y/n’s hand automatically going to his shoulder while the other cupped his cheek, making him look at her. when she realised what she was doing, she quickly withdrew her hands and folded them in front of her, trying to ignore the confused look on her husband's face.
“are you okay?” she questioned, keeping in mind to keep her voice low.
“yes, i’ll be up and running in no time,” sherlock assured, reaching for her hands but stopped when she made no move to take his.
“i was worried when you stormed out and didn’t come back before nightfall,” y/n admitted, her fidgeting with the numerous rings she wore, a nervous habit she had; something sherlock always picked on.
“i apologise,” sherlock whispered, burying his head in his hands, the light from the lamps making his head hurt. “for worrying you. and for other things.”
“that’s alright,” y/n replied, chuckling lightly, though it was weak and she sounded tired. “i think i'll always be worrying when it comes to you. i’ve made my peace with it.”
"you're not mad?" sherlock asked, his voice muffled.
"we'll talk later, sherlock," y/n spoke, her voice sharp as she took a deep breath. "you make it hard to be mad at you, when you're in this stage."
“i suppose i don't make it any easier," sherlock asked, a small smile on his lips though y/n couldn't see it. "being me."
"you don't," y/n looked away, choosing to look at the portraits on the wall. "but that's okay."
sherlock was about to say something else when enola's voice sounded from their bathroom.
"i better go and see what she wants," y/n spoke though she made no move to leave. a moment passed between the couple before y/n moved towards him and pushed him to lay on the couch by his shoulders. "you, rest. please."
"if i must," sherlock said, leaning into her touch and craved it when it was gone. he settled and closed his eyes. "is she to stay the night?"
"yes," y/n spoke sternly, leaving no room for argument making sherlock grumble but he didn't object; knowing it would be fruitless.
y/n moved through the living room, making her way to the bathroom and knocked twice before waiting for enola to open the door.
"a moment," enola called from the inside and half a minute later, the door was thrown open and y/n was pulled inside.
"is everything alright?" y/n questioned, looking at the teenager whose hair were down, strands falling in her face.
"could you do my hair, please?" enola questioned, a pink tint on her face. "i usually just throw them in a bun and that does the trick but i love how you do your hair and since i'm here and you're here, maybe you could do my hair?"
"of course i will!" y/n exclaimed as she pushed enola's hair out of her face. "you shouldn't ask, enola. you're like my sister. i basically raised you."
"still, i felt the need to ask," enola shrugged, handing her the brush that was on the counter and turning around.
"you shouldn't," y/n reassured her, brushing her hair softly. "i'd never refuse."
"i'm glad to hear that," enola smiled at her, looking through the mirror in front of her. "is sherlock okay?"
"he's resting," y/n mentioned, starting to braid small braids. "at least, i hope so."
"did you two have a fight?" enola questioned, no longer being able to control her curiosity.
"he told you about it?" y/n asked, mild surprise on her face but still, she smiled at the girl.
"he wasn't sure if you'd be home when we reached here," enola spoke, wincing slightly as her hair got caught in one of the many rings y/n wore, the latter apologising profusely as she untangled them. "said you might've chosen to go to your sister's house. and he also mentioned something about a disagreement at home when i first saw him outside the bar."
"oh, um, we did have a fight," y/n admitted, a small frown on her face as she recalled the harsh words that were thrown around. "but i'd never just leave."
"did he apologise?" enola questioned, admiring the braid y/n had finished. "please tell me he did."
"he did," y/n assured the younger girl. "i wouldn't be here any longer if he didn't."
"that's good," enola smiled, her fingers twirling around the braid. "you're both good then?"
"i don't think it works like that, darling," y/n spoke slowly, her eyes trained on her hair, a sad smile on her face as she refused to look at her in the mirror. "it's not just a simple 'sorry' and then everything is fine."
enola stayed silent as she thought about what y/n and finally after a couple moments, spoke. "what do you mean?"
"i mean, you can't just hurt someone and then realise that what you did was wrong. you can't apologise and expect everything to be okay, that's not how it is," y/n spoke, her voice calm and controlled but her mind was filled with the words that sherlock and her had spoken—yelled at eachother. "the person you hurt, they're not just going to forget and forgive you."
"then, what are we supposed to do?" enola spoke, her voice a whisper as she watched y/n finish off the last braid and tuck it neatly with the others. "if we apologise but they don't accept it, then what? we're supposed to keep on telling them?"
"we need to show them," y/n corrected her, turning her around to she could pin up the strands that kept getting in her eyes. "with actions, not just words. with what we do, with gestures. they need to know that we cherish them, that we're thankful that they're here, with us, they need to know that we love them and that we're sorry."
"sherlock does that?" enola asked, her eyes on her sister in law.
"he does," y/n whispered, looking down as she felt the familiar burning in her eyes and the floor became a mosaic. "he really does."
"then why are you both not okay?" enola asked, comforting y/n as she rubbed her arms.
"because i'm so worried," y/n started, her breathing heavier and her voice choked up. "i'm so worried, enola. it's starting to affect me physically. he's taking on dangerous cases everyday, the next one more dangerous than the last and he goes out without any sort of protection and i'm so scared that he's not going to come back home to me."
"he's always going to come back to you," enola spoke, her hearting hurting when she heard y/n sniffle. "he's sherlock and you're y/n. you'll always find eachother."
"last night, he didn't come home until midnight and i had stay up waiting for him because i hate it when he comes back and there's no one greeting him and he had a cut on his upper arm and i freaked out," y/n rambled, her hands clutching enola's, the latter not letting go even for a second, "and we had a small argument about him coming this late and coming home hurt when i've told him many times to take someone from scotland yard with him but it ended in a big fight and we both went to bed angry, it was the worst. in the morning, i brought it up again and he just—yelled at me and i yelled at him and he just stormed out."
"i—i don't know what to say," enola breathed out, her hands still onto y/n's. "except, let me go out there and smack some sense into him."
y/n let out a shaky laugh, letting go of enola's hand to wipe her eyes.
"letting all of that out felt good," y/n admitted, sniffling slightly, twirling enola as she looked over her hair. "i needed this, thank you, enola."
"of course, y/n," enola smiled, her eyes sparkling under the lamp in the corner of the bathroom. "thank you, for doing my hair."
"don't mention it, love," y/n waved her off, her heart feeling lighter. "the guest room is neat and clean, you should get some sleep."
"ah, yes," enola spoke, looking at herself in the mirror before smiling at y/n. "i'll see you in the morning."
"of course," y/n smiled back tiredly, her head hurting.
"good night," enola called as she walked away from the bathroom and towards the guest room, her voice drifting as the door closed.
"good night," y/n whispered, knowing that there was no way she heard her. she looked at herself in the mirror, taking note of the year stained cheeks and how anyone could tell that she had been crying. her hair was a mess, flicks restricting her view.
she sighed, before opening the faucet and washing her face, cursing at herself for not doing it earlier as it already made her head feel less heavy.
after drying her face with a cloth, she made her way to the living and spotted sherlock in the same position in which she had left him. he seemed to have fallen asleep, with how even and deep his breathing was and how he was still and peaceful. there was no furrow of his eyebrows, y/n noted as she admired him.
"sherlock?" y/n called as he leaned over him, her voice barely audible as she didn't want to startle him. "we should head to bed."
sherlock groaned as his hands covered his face, moving slightly but he made no indication of sitting up.
"sherlock, please," y/n spoke, her hand on his shoulder. "let us go to bed."
"hm?" sherlock hummed, opening his eyes a fraction before closing them.
"sit up," y/n ordered, her voice still light. sherlock pushed himself up, looking up at her with tired eyes and y/n had to resist the urge to kiss his forehead.
“come on, let’s get you in bed,” y/n spoke softly, holding onto sherlock's shoulder as he stood up. she lead him to their bedroom, his body swaying slightly at the movement, making y/n grip onto him a bit tighter.
“that sounds nice,” sherlock mumbled, his hands holding her waist as he walked into their bedroom with her support.
“it does, doesn’t it?” y/n sat him on the bed, removing his coat, tie and vest. “have some water before you fall asleep. here.”
“i’m not going to fall asleep,” sherlock huffed before drinking the water y/n from the glass on the bedside table with a small ‘thank you’, “i’m not tired.”
“sure you aren’t, love,” y/n muttered, helping him get under the covers and adjusting the pillow under his head. “do you need anything else?"
"huh?" sherlock asked, his head falling against the pillow. "no, i suppose."
"alright," y/n moved towards the dressing room to change into her night gown. "i'll be back in a minute."
y/n only got a hum from him in reply as she made her way into the small attached dressing room and changing as fast as she could into her night gown. folding the dress as neatly as she could, she opened the door to find sherlock sitting up with his back to the headboard.
"sherlock?" y/n asked, confusing evident in her voice as she made way towards him. she sat on the edge of the bed, her worries increasing as sherlock stayed silent for the better part of a minute.
"i'm sorry," sherlock spoke, his voice small as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "for yelling, for storming out, for worrying you, everything. all of it."
"it's okay, love," y/n didn't even notice the term of endearment fall from her lips. "we can talk in the morning. you need to rest."
"no, it can't wait," sherlock argued, opening his eyes and looking at her with utmost seriousness. his hands clasped hers, holding them with a firm grip. "i have only just realised how much worry i cause you."
"sher—"
"if you were out there, i don't know what i would do," sherlock continued speaking, the words falling from his lips effortlessly. "and i realise that i have been selfish, worrying my wife about my well being, coming home late and sometimes even injured."
"darling—"
"i'll work on that," sherlock nodded, not noticing y/n trying and failing to speak. "i'll talk to lestrade about getting a constable with me on dangerous cases."
"love—"
"we already went to bed angry at eachother yesterday," sherlock spoke tiredly, his eyes dropping and his grip on her hands going lax. "i didn't want you to be mad at me tonight. i love you and i'm sorry, y/n."
"i love you and i'm not mad, not anymore," y/n shook her head, smiling as she leaned over and kissed his forehead, stroking his face with her thumb. "i just worry about you, a lot."
"and from now on, i won't give you a reason to," sherlock promised, leaning into her touch.
"good," y/n dropped another kiss to his forehead, smiling when he looked up at her and leaned in to kiss her on the lips. she smiled as she met him halfway.
the kiss was messy, with y/n leaning over him and sherlock's hand supporting her. y/n's hand found the front of his shirt, pulling him even more closer while sherlock's hand circled her waist, tracing small circles on her hips as he kissed her back with fervour.
they broke apart, their breathing heavy as they smiled at eachother, hearts beating fast.
"you need to sleep, mr. holmes," y/n reminded him, pulling away from him and moving towards her side of the bed. "you're tired."
"no," sherlock denied, watching her as she got in under the cover. "maybe, yes. god, am i tired."
"told you," y/n smiled at him with satisfaction. "sleep."
sherlock watched as she leaned over her bedside table and turned off the lamp settled comfortably, shifting slightly. he waited until she was fully settled in before moving close to her.
he laid his head in the crook of her neck, his nose touching her collarbone as his breath hit the exposed part of her neck, making her shiver. her hands automatically went to his hair, running her fingers through it.
minutes passed as y/n laid in bed, staring at the ceiling and running her fingers through her husband's hair.
"sherlock?" y/n asked, her voice barely a whisper.
after hearing no answers from him, she shifted lightly to get a good look on his face and smiled as she noticed that he was fast asleep. his mouth was parted slightly and each exhale of breath made y/n shiver and get goosebumps. his grip on her was relaxed and the look on his face was so peaceful that it made y/n feel at peace.
kissing the top of head, y/n inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and sending a prayer to whatever force that made him hers.
sure, they had their disagreements, both big and small. their difference of opinion cause a rift every now and then but still, there was no doubt.
we'll be alright, she thought before falling asleep with the love of her life.
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#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock x reader#sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x you#sherlock holmes x y/n#sherlock holmes blurbs#enola holmes 2#henry!holmes x reader#henry!sherlock#henry cavill
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