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ellethespaceunicorn · 10 months

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Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Title: Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Fandom: Enola Holmes series

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.

Warnings: age gap(reader is about 20 in this, Sherlock is mid-30s), slight voyeurism, masturbation (male), handjob, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it up y’all), creampie

A/N: I’ve been throwing around this idea about Sherlock for quite some time. I hope you enjoy it. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You’ve been friends with Enola for a short time, only since the beginning of the year. She’s led you on a few fun adventures, but more often than not, she’s led you on wild goose chases. She has helped you come out of your shell and you are grateful for that. On days that you weren’t exploring the countryside or causing a ruckus in the city, you would lounge around her large house.

Spending time with her in her large house had its benefits. One of which was 6’1 with a head of unruly curls. The famous Sherlock Holmes was your best friend’s big brother. He lived in the city but came to visit Enola every week.

You always made sure to be available on those days. If only for the chance to say hello to Sherlock. You wanted more but, truth be told, he made you a bit nervous.

You tried your best to keep calm when he would arrive, but Enola noticed your demeanor change every time. She teased you endlessly about your little crush and you would always bring up Tewkesbury. That would usually shut her up.

In truth, she did not care that you liked her brother, she just didn’t want you to waste your time. The man was not exactly sociable unless he found value in the opinions of others. One opinion he respected was that of his sister. You could sit and watch them talk for hours. She would get him to laugh with her jokes, and he would bring her to annoyance with his riddles.

You would interject a thought here and there and when Sherlock would give his attention to you, you froze. Something about the look in his eyes, it was more than attention. It was intense as if the two of you were the only ones in the world let alone the room.

More than once, Enola had cleared her throat loudly to get you and Sherlock’s attention back on her. But sometimes, she would just listen to you ramble on while Sherlock seemed enthralled in your thoughts. You mused about music and how interesting you thought his cases were. The more you spoke with him, the more comfortable you felt around him.

Sherlock would show up now and then with little trinkets from his cases. At first, it was just things for Enola, but soon he would start bringing you little gifts as well. He started small with a single flower or a tasty treat from his favorite bakery. But soon, his gifts grew oddly specific. He bought you a brooch you had mentioned seeing at a store in the city. He would learn pieces of music from a composer you talked about and play it for you, much to the chagrin of Enola who wasn’t a fan of the violin.

It was when he didn’t visit for two weeks that you started to realize you were developing feelings for the older detective. You’d come to enjoy his presence and not because of his gifts. You just enjoyed seeing his face light up when he saw you. You relished the power you felt when the normally unflappable and distant man would sit enthralled when you gave voice to your thoughts.

So, why did it stop so suddenly? Had you done something to offend him?

You wracked your brain and Enola’s brain for that matter. She gave you his address so you could go and talk to him and she could finally be free of your fretting.

You arrive at 221 Baker Street, your hands trembling as you knock on the main door. A sweet woman opens the door and introduces herself as Ms. Hudson. When you ask to speak to Sherlock, she sends you up the steps to 221B.

As you’re about to knock, a man opens the door and almost collides with you.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. May I help you, Miss?”

“Ehm, I’m here to see Mr. Holmes…but I can come back if that’s–” You are cut off when he speaks again.

“You wouldn’t happen to be friends with Enola, would you?” You nod, giving your name, “Of course, Sherlock mentioned you. I’m Dr. John Watson, and I have to be going but you are more than welcome to come in. Sherlock is just in his room down the hall.” He points around the corner from the door and walks past you before waving goodbye.

So, that’s how you end up in Sherlock’s apartment. It is eerily quiet and you think he might be asleep. That is until you hear soft moans coming from down the hall. Your first thought is it must have been the floorboards creaking under your feet.

What you hear next is the unmistakable sound of your name followed by a whimper. It sounded like Sherlock was calling to you, but how would he know you were here already? You walk down the hallway quietly and see that his bedroom door is slightly ajar.

Peeking in, you are blessed with a sight! Sherlock is laid out on his bed with his shirt and waistcoat open, his hairy chest on full display as it rises and falls quickly. His beautiful face constricted in pain one second, solemn and peaceful in the next. His curls are a sweaty mess on his forehead. One hand is fisting the sheets at his side and the other hand is wrapped around his thick veiny dick. You’re mesmerized watching him stroke himself until you hear him moan your name again.

In a moment of bravery, you step into the room. Your bosom heaves in your bodice as you breathe shallowly, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

His hand stops its ministrations and he looks to you as you walk towards him. He’s frozen on the spot and can only watch you as you climb atop the bed and lay next to him. You replace his hand with yours and continue to pump his dick. Your hand barely fits around him and you enjoy the feel of his soft uncut length in your hand.

His hands come up to caress your face and pull you down for a kiss. When his tongue begs for entry, you allow it in. Heatedly, you mold your mouth to his, letting your moans and whimpers be consumed by him. Breaking the kiss, he looks into your eyes and you can tell he is close.

You remove your hand from him and stand up from the bed. It is only when you remove your undergarments does Sherlock understand why you stopped. Climbing back on the bed, you settle yourself with your cunt dripping onto him.

“I want you to be certain that you–” You cut him off as you slink down, his velvety smoothness sliding inside your wet heat. You take a moment to get used to the sheer size of him. He stretches you almost painfully. Leaning down, you whisper into his ear.

“Do I seem certain, Mr. Holmes?”

Instead of an answer, Sherlock groans and twitches inside you. His hands travel under your skirt and rest on your hips. You take that as a sign and sit up. With your hands on his chest, you begin to ride him slowly, agonizingly to the point where his hands start to guide you to a quicker pace.

Using you like a ragdoll, he flips you so he is atop you while you are on your back. He slams into you repeatedly and you are no longer in control. He savors the sounds coming from you as he fucks into you. He urges you on as he kisses and licks and nips at your neck, careful not to leave any marks.

Pulling out, he moves you to your hands and knees before inserting himself again. The angle allows him to go deeper and you thank the Gods for it. As he holds onto you, he hammers into you. The filthy utterances that come from his mouth only serve to solidify the notion that he missed you too.

“I knew you would feel like Heaven, my sweet angel…”

“This pretty pussy belongs to me now…”

“You would look so perfect with my cum dripping out of you…”

“I could fuck you all day and night and still never get enough of you…”

“Be my good angel and come all over my cock,” He reaches down and rubs your clit between two fingers as he plows into you. You never stood a chance, your walls quivering around him within moments, “That’s my good girl. So good…for me. Fuck, so close!”

“Sherlock, please! Need you to fill me with all you have to give!” You surprise yourself and your lover with those words.

Sherlock’s answering grunts as he makes mincemeat of your pussy are music to your ears. His punishing thrusts falter and he pulls you flush to him. He’s deep enough to kiss your cervix with the tip of his dick. You feel him swell inside you and it’s enough to make you climax again, milking him through his release.

And the noises he makes when he comes are more intricate than the 24 Caprices. You’re sure that Sherlock would disagree but you don’t even care. You revel in the melody of his moans and surrender to its hold on you.

Sherlock’s hands roam over your back, your hips, your ass, and your thighs. As if he can’t get enough of you. He doesn’t pull out until you wiggle your hips, a sign that your legs are tired. Extricating himself from your sensitive folds allows his spend to escape. He catches what slips free and pushes it all back in before helping you lay down on your front.

He lays down next to you, pulling you close to him with one arm while the other rests behind his head. He looks so peaceful as he closes his eyes and hums. The feminine urge for pillow talk is high, but so is the need to just bask in this moment.

You’re in the arms of the man you care for, who also adores you. You rest your cheek on his shoulder and tangle your fingers in his chest hair. You breathe in his smell, his pheromones are surely on high alert from your activity. When he rests his head against yours, you feel at peace.

You do plan on talking to Sherlock later about everything. But, for now, you can take pleasure in the simplicity of the harmonization of your heartbeats.

A/N: The title of this fic is taken from The Neighborhood’s Sweater Weather. There is an amazing violin version of this song by Joel Sunny. And anything violin makes me think of Sherlock.

A/N: Also, I know Ms. Hudson wasn't featured in Enola Holmes, but I love her as a character and I wanted to use her.

**Tag List**

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#sherlock holmes henry cavill #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #enola holmes fanfiction #enola holmes #enola holmes 2 #henry!holmes x reader #henry!holmes #henry!sherlock #henry cavill sherlock holmes #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction

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asgards-princess-of-mischief · 6 months

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Last Updated: 2024-02-08

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Henry!Holmes stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

✑ Love-Performing Night | Prt. II | Prt. III by st-juliet • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: "…An actress at Covent Garden Theatre and neighbour to a certain eccentric detective, [you're] equal parts flustered and delighted when [Sherlock] arrives [backstage]."

✑ Utmost Merit | Prt. II | Prt. III | Prt. IV by st-juliet • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: "Sherlock presents [you] with a most unconventional proposal."

✑ When We Were Young by youvebeenlivingfictional • 〔F᜶A〕 •

Summary: "You were an only child, a girl (which had disappointed your parents), and while you loved to learn, you hated your governess. You were curious, a little wild, and lonely."

✑ A Work Proposition by zodiyack • 〔F〕 •

Summary: After witnessing your, another detective, interaction with Sherlock, Enola sees a perfect opportunity to play Cupid

✑ An Absolute Mess by youvebeenlivingfictional • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Your Aunt [sent] you a, moderately frantic, letter [requesting] help [tidying up after one of her more peculiar tenants]."

✑ Don't You Remember￨Prt. II by iguana-eyanna • 〔A〕 •

Summary: "Sherlock is hired by an old flame that claims that a family heirloom has been stolen, but he has suspicions of why he was hired in the first place."

✑ Enigma by iguana-eyanna • 〔A᜶F〕 •

Summary: "When Sherlock comes at your door seeking help, you two realize you can't deny the pull you have on each other."

✑ Exactly What You Need by delicate-moon-princess • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "It seems Sherlock understands your needs better than you do."

✑ Experiment, the￨Prt. II by sherlocksoft • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "When you married Sherlock, you discovered a side to him that you would never have expected. A side that was only for you."

✑ Family Man by buckybarnesthehotshot • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

Summary: "In which [Sherlock], along with other ladies of high society, learns his wife is with child"

✑ Fresh Air and Exercise by daydreaming-in-letters • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Sherlock may [refuse] to join, [you] for an afternoon walk, but that doesn't mean he has to pass up on the much needed exercise altogether."

✑ Give It Up by theplaid-wearingmoose • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "When Enola had told him he needed to learn to give up control sometimes, he was fairly certain this is not what she had meant."

✑ Hair by buckybarnesthehotshot • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ If Only You Would Know by espinosaurusrexex • 〔A᜶C〕 •

Summary: "You and Sherlock are in love; Enola is sure of it. [However,] she is forced to watch you tiptoe around the topic for an eternity. So when the opportunity arises, and Sherlock is forced to confront his feelings towards you, she does not hesitate."

✑ Jigsaw by andsheloved • 〔F᜶A〕 •

Summary: "As you wonder what it would be like for him to return your affections, Sherlock finally understands what he would sacrifice to fit within your world."

✑ Most Beautiful Riddle, the by espinosaurusrexex • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Sherlock Holmes... never entertained the idea of marriage. That was, until [you] came along and turned his world upside down... After a year of... love and happiness, he is finally ready to ask the question. There is just one problem: How is he ever to make the proposal worthy of his one true love?"

✑ On Subjects of the Heart￨Prt. II by andsheloved • 〔A〕 •

Summary: "Sherlock has a good head on his shoulders; he's straightforward, critical, and almost painfully logical, so why have you had his mind swimming with thoughts that are anything but?"

✑ Only Women, the by writingfortoomanyfandoms • 〔F᜶A〕 •

Summary: {…}

✑ Only You by thisisawonderfulusername • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

Summary: "After becoming pregnant, you notice that Sherlock has been distancing himself. he finally returns home after at least a month of being gone."

✑ Propriety by andsheloved • 〔F᜶C〕 •

Summary: "Sherlock was sure his heart stopped when he saw you lying in the hospital bed, all because of him. He has to take care of you. He has to… who cares if the only way he can be in the room… is to tell them he's your husband? Certainly not him. Absolutely not."

✑ Pubs & Pebbles by youvebeenlivingfictional • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: {…}

✑ Pulse Point by st-juliet • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "To help him relax in the midst of a trying case, Reader exploits Sherlock’s only vulnerability."

✑ Red Carnation by shotgunbunny • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Sherlock's jealousy shines through and makes you annoyed, [to make amends he] shows you how he's loved you all these years."

✑ Riotous by st-juliet • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "A wealthy, titled, chaste young lady such as [yourself] should most definite… in attendance at a secret back-room boxing match… Neither should a refined [and] proper… detective. [Yet,] here you [both] are, two weeks away from your wedding no less…"

✑ Run Away by multific • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♡ •

✑ Smallest Joys by inknopewetrust • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "The tree in the Holmes' backyard [is] a place of… peace and laughter… and a moment arises for it to be a place of forgiveness and love as well."

✑ Simple Things by dyns33 • 16+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Sir Snuggles by thisisawonderfulusername • 〔F〕 • 𑁍 •

Summary: "Your niece [enlists] the help of Sherlock Holmes to find her teddy bear."

✑ Surely Not Love by youvebeenlivingfictional • 〔F〕 •

✑ Taste of Home by delicate-moon-princess • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "You wake up next to, [your husband], Sherlock... after months of being apart. It never [feels] like home when [he's] gone... now, [he's finally back] to fill the void in your heart."

✑ Teacups and Telegrams by theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Your morning was normal until you received a telegram from your friend Sherlock Holmes with a simple request: help him find Enola."

✑ Thursday 4pm by starkleila • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

Summary: "Enola deduces something about you before Sherlock."

✑ Waiting Game, the by ithebookhorder • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Sherlock comforts [you after a] heartbreak…and opens a door for a happier future."

✑ We Meet Again by maarijaaa • 18+ • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♡ •

Summary: "After your father stepped down as a detective, you decided to take over... [you did not expect] a letter standing on your front porch from a person you wanted to leave in the past…"

✑ We'll Be Alright by love-strawberry • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "In which [you] fight but there's no doubt that [you'll] end up alright."

✑ What It Would Be Like to Love You by cruelfvkingsummer • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: "What happens when a genius and a hopeless romantic are arranged to be wed?"

✑ What They Didn't Know was Missing by iguana-eyanna • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

Summary: "It's hard to [coming to] terms [with] becoming a mother, but Sherlock [will] remind you [daily] that you are worthy of being one to your child."

✑ Women, the by dyns33 • 〔M᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: After learning of her sister-in-law's jealousy towards Miss Adler, Enola is determined to make her brother realize how he's hurting his wife.

✑ Words Cannot Express by espinosaurusrexex • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "In which [you] and Sherlock have a forever crush on each other."

✑ Your Only Warning by st-juliet • 16+ • 〔E᜶M〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Alone in the library with his betrothed,... Sherlock fights to remain a gentleman…with limited success."

✑ Always Here by andsheloved • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ At the End of Each Case by writingfortoomanyfandoms • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Autumn Morning by henryofsteel • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Blue by fivequartersoftheorange • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Convince Me by youvebeenlivingfictional • 〔F〕 •

✑ Darling by runawayolives • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ En Garde by ithebookhorder • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Game is Afoot Indeed, the by marvelousmando • 〔F〕 •

✑ Governess, the by ladyfloriographist • 〔E〕 •

✑ Hold My Hand by make-me-imagine • 〔F〕 •

✑ Investigating Love by shotgunbunny • 〔F〕 •

✑ Lovely Neighbour, the by dyns33 • 〔F〕 •

✑ Midnight Activities by loganbcrnes • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Oh What a Fool You Are by germangirl321 • 〔M᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Perhaps Not by writingfortoomanyfandoms • 〔F〕 •

✑ Playing Games by dyns33 • 〔F᜶A〕 •

✑ Ready Now by st-juliet • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Sister's Roomate by writingfortoomanyfandoms • 〔F〕 •

✑ Talking in Your Sleep by writingfortoomanyfandoms • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Waiting on Your Husband | Prt. II by dearfandomdiary • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Wild Violet by st-juliet • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Being Sherlock's Wife in Enola Holmes Would Include… | Prt. II by starkleila • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Fancying Sherlock Would Include... by hobbit-historian • 〔F〕 •

See Also: Navigation || Henry!Sherlock Holmes Master Index

Authors: @andsheloved || @buckybarnesthehotshot || @cruelfvkingsummer || @daydreaming-in-letters || @dearfandomdiary || @delicate-moon-princess || @dyns33 || @espinosaurusrexex || @fivequartersoftheorange || @germangirl321 || @henryofsteel || @hobbit-historian || @iguana-eyanna || @inknopewetrust || @ithebookhoarder || @ladyfloriographist || @loganbcrnes || @love-strawberry || @maaarijaaa || @make-me-imagine || @marvelousmando || @multific || @runawayolives || @sherlocksoft || @shotgunbunny || @starkleila || @st-juliet || @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction || @theplaid-wearingmoose || @thisisawonderfulusername || @villainvindicator || @writingfortoomanyfandoms || @youvebeenlivingfictional || @zodiyack ||

#Henry!Holmes x Reader #Henry!Holmes x Y/N #Henry!Holmes x You #Henry!Sherlock x Reader #Henry!Sherlock x Y/N #Henry!Sherlock x You #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill x Y/N #Henry Cavill x You #Enola Holmes Fanfiction #Enola Holmes Fanfic #Henry Cavill Fanfiction #Henry Cavill Fanfic

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frost-queen · 9 months

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The moment I knew // part 3 (Reader!Bridgerton x Tewkesbury)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @omgsuperstarg, @cayt0123, @powwowsworld, @yomamacrusty, @mileyy22, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @omgsuperstarg

Summary: Now that Tewkesbury has given away his ring, his grandmother confronts him about where it is. Conflicted about what to do Tewkesbury has to make a desicion. Ask for his ring back and stop his grandmother from bothering him or let you keep it and live his life in agony of his grandmother's wrath. [ part 1 & part 2 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 part 8 & part 9 ]

Tewkesbury yawned loud while going down the stairs. His arms flopped at the rhythm of him thundering the last few steps down. A servant who was stationed in the hallway bowed to him making Tewkesbury sigh soft. He made a turn heading for the dining room. He needn’t to touch the doorknob as the door got opened for him. It made him roll his eyes as he was very well capable of opening a door by himself. As the doors opened he straightened his posture, plastering on a smile.

He casually walked inside being greeted by his grandmother. – “Ah Tewkesbury!” – she said loudly with a fork up in the air. On her lap sat a little dog. – “Grandmother.” – Tewkesbury replied taking a stiff bow. She wasn’t paying much attention to it, but Tewkesbury knew if he didn’t she would surely comment about his lacking manners. He went around the table to a seat near his grandmother who sat at the head of the table.

His chair got pulled back for him. Tewkesbury eyed the dog on her lap. The vicious lapdog barked at him, making him flinch. He never liked that dog. Tewkesbury nearly barked back at it just out of spite, hadn’t his grandmother not shushed the dog. She plucked something off her plate offering it to the dog. The dog licked at it making Tewkesbury make a face out of disgust.

He sat down as his chair got pushed closer to the table. Her dog snarled at him. His grandmother snapped her finger pointing at her glass. A servant came closer to pour more in her glass. Now that her attention was elsewhere mocked Tewkesbury the dog. He pulled his nose up to it, baring his teeth. He then bit at the dog to frighten it. The dog whimpered laying itself down. Tewkesbury chuckled counting this as a victory.

His plate got set down making him look picky at it. With his fork he started to divide the food. Something inside of him had hoped for something sweet for breakfast, yet he was once again disappointed. He shouldn’t complain though, there were various fruits to pick from on his plate. If only he liked them all equally. He pricked in a grape with his fork. His grandmother quirked her eyebrow up. – “Where is your ring?” – she asked plainly. – “What ring?” – Tewkesbury replied with not much thought.

“The ring your father gave you.” – She stated raising her eyebrow even higher. Tewkesbury turned his hand a bit more to him, looking at his bare hand. Where once was a ring, was none now. He swallowed closing his hand as he knew exactly where it was. Hanging around the neck of Y/n Bridgerton. The one his heart flutters for but he couldn’t say that. So he had to come up with an excuse. – “I must’ve taken it off for a bath and forgot to put it back on.” – he said.

“You never take it off.” – His grandmother persisted on. – “I did now.” – Tewkesbury said annoyed back at her. His grandmother seemed shocked for a second by the tone in his voice. She placed her napkin down with a cold stare. – “Then fetch it!” – she insisted upon. Tewkesbury took a quick breath, staring down at his plate. He knew he couldn’t just fetch it. – “I can’t remember where I put it.” – he mumbled. – “You’ve lost it?” – she shrieked out making the dog bark at her sudden movement.

“No!” – Tewkesbury called back bothered. – “I simply misplaced it!” – he rephrased. – “That is still exactly the same thing!” – his grandmother made clear. Tewkesbury felt himself get worked up over this. – “That ring is the only thing you might have of your father! I suggest you find it quickly for I do not tolerate negligence!” – she said firm. Tewkesbury shoved his chair loudly back, getting up in a haste. – “I’ll do so!” – he bit at her. He firmly turned his back at her heading out of the dining room.

Whatever his grandmother shouted at him, he couldn’t hear over the loud barking of that stupid dog. Perhaps it was for the better as it would only hurt his feelings. Angered he rushed back up to his room. In there he needed to out some steam. He grabbed one of his pillows throwing it onto the ground. Sighing loud he let himself fall down on his bed. Hands rubbing down his face. He let himself fall back on the bed, staring up to ceiling. He took a deep breath, conflicted. His fingers touching the bare skin around his ring finger where once his ring was.

Turning his head to the wall, he saw it all before him. The moment he gave you his ring. In that moment he had hesitated to give it. It was indeed his father’s ring. One of the few things he truly had of him. He knew his grandmother would eventually notice and make a fuss over it. To be fair she makes a fuss over almost everything. He just didn’t think she would notice to soon after last nights gathering at Lord and Lady Wattlesbrook.

Then again his entire heart screamed for him to give it to you. Perhaps in a way to already claim you as his before anything real would go down. He knew very well how predatory the social season was. Lords talking trash behind each other’s back to lure the girl of their liking into their trap. To ensure them to themselves. There was nothing more dangerous than a bunch of ill loved men falling for the same girl. Tewkesbury wasn’t a fool.

He knew you’d most likely be the season’s diamond when you would debut. It was so clear. He didn’t need to look at any other girl to know you were the fairest. Both in heart as in beauty. Therefor he had given you his ring, knowing you would stay true to it just as much as him. Sighing deep he knew he had to find his ring fast for his grandmother would not stop complaining about it till she saw it around his finger again.

Conflicted he groaned loud. A part of him wanted to leave it with you, just to taunt his grandmother. The grandmother that drove him crazy. He barely couldn’t wait to debut, marry, and claim lordship of his late father’s estate. The second he would be, he’d set her out. Give her a comfortable home far away from him so she couldn’t interfere with his life any longer.

It wasn’t cruel considering how she treated him. Conducting his life as if he wouldn’t have a say into it for himself. Then again another part of him wanted to have that ring back as quickly as possible. That part of him that feared his grandmother’s wraith. He knew just how miserable she could make his life. He sure didn’t want things to escalate.

The only cruel thing about it would be asking for his ring back from you. He couldn’t possibly imagine how you would react. Would you see it as a rejection of his love? A withdraw of his promise. Would you hate him and turn your attention to other boys? The thought alone made him panic. He got back up wiping his hand down his face. What was he to do? What to do indeed?

Tewkesbury got into the carriage. His grandmother already seated with that darn dog of hers on her lap. – “Did you find it already?” – was the first thing she asked. – “No.” – Tewkesbury sighed out knowing he couldn’t avoid it. His grandmother gave him a scowl that made him almost want to disappear. He sat himself down before her as the door got closed behind him. – “Have you looked properly?” – she asked as the carriage got in motion. – “Yes.” – he answered.

“Clearly not. If so I would see a well worth ring around your finger.” – she pointed briefly at him. – “I’ll look later more.” – he said moving his hand up in defeat. Exhaling deep as there was no point in arguing with her. It had only taken a few words of her to ruin his entire mood. Eager to just turn the carriage around and make an escape for it. Her dog snarled at him. His grandmother shushing it loudly. The dog laid down on her lap with a soft meek. Tewkesbury turned his head to the outside, staring out of the frame. In the distance he could see the park. The carriage came to a stop.

The door got opened by the footman. Tewkesbury got out first, taking in a deep breath. His grandmother followed with her dog. She sat her dog down, holding his leash. – “I am going for my walk.” – she said stroking some wrinkles out of her dress. – “Stay close!” – she called out. Tewkesbury took a deep breath following his grandmother a few paces behind her. He watched her dog walk for a moment before turning his attention around him. On the grass fields away from the gravely path they walked upon were people taking a stroll. A couple with their infant having a picknick.

He saw how caring the parents were with their child, making him yearn for that kind of attention. It has been a long time since anyone had given that to him. Surely not his grandmother. She lacked the capacity to do so. A bit further were two men discussing something over by the pond. Some children playing tag and running around wildly. His grandmother stopped as her dog had to pee. Tewkesbury also stopped staring at the green fields. A few younglings were playing hoops not far from him. One of the children missed to catch the hoop as it flew further on. It landed by Tewkesbury’s feet making him look down to it.

The child came running over as Tewkesbury bend to pick it up. – “If I please may sir.” – she asked nicely holding her hands out. Tewkesbury smiled at her, giving her back the hoop. She smiled back at him before running back to her friends happily. – “Tewkesbury!” – his grandmother called out furious. He sighed deep following her once more. There was no pleasure to the stroll. The stroll wasn’t even for him, it was for that darn dog that she needed to let out.

From afar called an elderly lady to his grandmother. His grandmother called back to her. She looked over her shoulder to Tewkesbury who was looking around. – “Take your leave!” – she hissed at him. – “What?” – Tewkesbury blurted out, caught off guard. – “I said take your leave!” – she repeated loudly seeing the lady approach. She didn’t have to say that again as Tewkesbury parted from her. Over his shoulder he saw his grandmother meet with the lady all happy. It made him smirk, thanking the lady silently for his freedom.

Tewkesbury walked a bit back eyeing a bench. He sat down on it, watching the pond down the hill. A few children were feeding the ducklings. He took a breath at ease, leaning back against the bench. His moment of calmness was brief as he got startled by a pair of hands blocking his sight. – “Who am I?” – he heard before he could throw the hands from before him. Instantly his heart leaped in the air making him grab the hands that were blocking his vision. – “That voice only belongs to the most wonderful girl I’ve ever met.” – he said lowering the hands.

He let his head fall back, looking up to the most magnificent pair of eyes. – “Midday Miss Bridgerton.” – he said smiling up. – “Midday Viscount.” – you answered with a smile of your own. Tewkesbury let go of your hands as you moved around the bench to sit with him. – “Are you here alone?” – you asked. He shook his head. – “My grandmother’s over there.” – he gestured in her direction making you look. – “Same.” – you said making him quirk his eyebrow up. – “Well not my grandmother, but my mother is over there with my younger siblings.” – you gestured behind you making him look.

“The moment I saw you, I had to come over.” – you spoke smiling happily. – “How did you know it was I?” – he questioned with a smirk. – “I recognize you anywhere.” – you told him. That made him smile, looking down at your chest to where his ring would hang. It made him wonder. Swallowing nervously he wasn’t sure if he should ask you about it. Taking a deep breath, he turned his head away.

You had slightly an idea what it was about, so you pulled at the string around your neck, revealing his ring. – “I still have it if you wondered.” – you said showing it to him. He smiled, simply smiled at you in response. – “Is…is something the matter Viscount Tewkesbury?” – you asked worried. He smiled faintly at you, shaking his head. You knew something bothered him from the way he avoided eye contact. You removed the ring from around your neck, holding it out to him after a second of hesitation and sadness.

“What… what are you doing Miss Y/n?” – he said blinking in shock at his ring twirling in front of his eyes. – “You require it don’t you?” – you responded. – “No…I…” – he answered nervously making you grab his hand and lay it open before you. – “You require it Viscount.” – you said placing the ring down in his hand with the cord. – “Do not worry I understand.” – you added closing his hand on it. – “I am not mad or disappointed. I simply understand that you require it. Don’t pity me for I can’t bare to see you so saddened as this.” – you moved his hand closer to his chest, letting go of it.

Tewkesbury stared stunned at his closed hand with the ring in it, then up to you. He smiled at you, taking your hand. – “This does not mean I renounce my promise!” - he made clear as you nodded. – “I should not ask this of you, I gave it willingly with my heart yet my grandmother…” – his words drifted away such as his gaze. – “You didn’t ask.” – you reminded him with a kind smile.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze. – “If your grandmother requires you to wear it, I understand completely Viscount.” – you told him looking back to where his grandmother was. Tewkesbury nodded his head with a deep inhale. – “I’ll… I’ll give you something else!” – he exclaimed grasping your hands. He looked frantically around, his eyes falling onto something. He bend down to pick it up, laying your hand out to take it. He placed it down in your hand making you stare confused at it. – “An acorn?” – you said. – “Not just any acorn. The acorn of my love.” – he replied closing your hand on it.

“An acorn it is then.” – you chuckled holding it close to your heart. – “I still very much want what I promised before.” – he made clear so you wouldn’t forget. You hummed loud with a nod. – “Me too… if you haven’t already changed your mind on me.” – you said making him frown deep. – “Change my mind? Y/n I think I have just fallen more in love with you just now. This.” – he showed you his closed hand with the ring in. – “This would save me a lot of trouble and you gave it willingly knowing I didn’t break my promise.” – he called out.

“Tewkesbury!” – he suddenly heard loud. He sighed deep knowing his time of freedom was gone. He took your hand tightly, smiling at you. You smiled back at him, letting your eyes speak for you. He got up bowing respectfully at you. You watched him return to his grandmother. He glanced one more time over his shoulder to you before continuing.

You smiled back at him before getting up yourself and heading back to your mother and younger siblings. Tewkesbury removed the cord from around his ring, tugging it away. He then put his father’s ring back on. He wondered how long it would take her to notice this time that it had returned. Bringing his hand to his chest, his desire to marry you one day grew immensely.

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

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padfootdaredmetoo · 7 months

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I come with requests (pls). You can decide if it has smut or not but-

SHERLOCK (ENOLA HOLMES VERSION) IS TALKING TO IRENE AND Y/N IS JEALOUS CUZ HE SEEMS TO FLIRT WITH HER N STUFF.

Again, you can decide if there's smut or anything but I NEED this fic.

It would be greatly appreciated as I need another reason to listen to Reputation.

Hey Anon,

Again I'm incredibly sorry you had to wait so long. Hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: Smutt, dom / sub vibes, arguing

The whole situation was wrong. You stood in the doorway of Sherlock’s apartment, the apartment you recently had to move into. The woman seemed to enjoy your startled expression, her eyes were dark and there was a smirk ghosting on her red lips.

“This is-” Sherlock started his eyes fixed on the woman, to your relief he had kept his distance. He was leaning against the fireplace mantel.

“Oh, I know who she is.” Her eyes narrowed, and her body was sprawled across the couch. “I’m Irene, an old friend of Sherlock’s,” She said moving her gaze back to him.

You wanted to throttle her, wishing that women’s issues could be settled like men. Instead, you smiled brightly.

“If I knew we were having guests I would have put something together. I’ll put the kettle on.” You moved into the kitchen.

“No need darling. I'm not here for tea.” She uncrossed her legs and sat upright. “I came here for business.”

Then it started. You stayed on the edge of the room as the two started to banter. Crime scenes, clues, motives, both trying to get the upper hand. You struggled to keep up as they argued, one thing was glaringly obvious. The tension in the room was palpable. You felt the electricity and it made you sick to your stomach.

They were an inch away from each other, Sherlock looking unimpressed and cold, while she looked like she was savoring every moment of the interaction.

“Maybe you should look a little closer, somewhere in the woods maybe?”

“Moriarty-”

“Sends his regards.” She whispered her eyes focused on his lips. Part of you felt like you should intervene, and the other part of you felt like slinking away. This was so embarrassing, he seemed to forget about your existence altogether. Part of you knew it was because he wanted the missing information from the case he was working on, but the rest of you couldn't feel that logic.

You were swallowed up by his lack of concern for you. He looked and acted as if he was single, he was doing exactly what she wanted him to do.

She turned on her heel and left, slamming the door behind her causing you to jump. Your stomach and chest were tight, but you would rather be shot than let him see that he had hurt you.

You moved to the bedroom and shut the door, locking it even though you knew he would probably be sitting there sorting through her riddles.

You grabbed a bag stuffing it with clothes, anger seeping out of you. It was going to be a huge mess if you went to your sister's place like this but you didn’t care. Any place was better than here.

You opened the bedroom door and to no surprise, he was sitting there staring out the window. Muttering under his breath. He never liked being interrupted when he was like this. So you walked across the living space towards the front door.

“Where are you going?” He asked exhaling smoke from his pipe.

“Doesn't matter.” You shrugged.

“Of course, it matters.” He stood up fully attentive now.

“No -”

“She just gave us the missing clue, Morarity is--”

“Is a fucking ponce. I don't have time for this Sherlock. I can't do this,” You slipped a little then took a deep breath making your way closer to the door.

His large frame blocked you and you were surprised that he was making such an effort to keep you there. He looked like he was struggling to explain something.

“You're angry. I don't understand why.” This made your blood boil. “But Moriarty wants you.”

“I’m glad someone does.” You bit back. His face was stern and you knew he wasn't going to let you leave and a part of you was happy to argue.

“You don’t think I want you.” His voice was just above a snarl, and his eyes were dark. His anger had the opposite effect on your body, your pulse raced and you suddenly felt a few degrees too hot. His glare was consuming and you hated him for how attractive it was.

“Obviously not. She was all over you, and you - you - you - just let her. Right in front of me - you didnt even -” He leaned his face closer to yours and your words cut off.

“She wants you to run out of here angry. There’s a delivery carriage just up the street that hasn't moved since she got here.”Sherlock whispered. “She’s already left, thinking you’d run out of here. We have the upper hand.”

You thought about what he was saying, there was plenty of logic. The way her eyes would land on you periodically despite flirting with Sherlock. She was obvious too obvious about it. You still felt like fighting.

“I don’t like this.” You gritted your teeth. Many converstations had recently been had over the many ups and downs of the life he lead. How you were attched to him publicly now due to a careless misstep. Now you understood his reluctance all these months.

Moving in with him was the safest option. You didnt realise how angry all of that made you, how your private life was boiled down and sold as broth for everyone to consume. Somthing so dear to you, you knew deep down you wouldnt want to live without him. You closed your eyes, you wanted him. But the world needed him. All those murdered women, cases left unsolved completley neglected until he would show up.

He was doing what was right. A thought that comforted the anger you felt at the loss of control.

“Then let me make it up to you.” He said through gritted teeth. A voice in the back of your mind told you to run away from the darkness in his eyes. Your body stood frozen in place, welcoming his rage.

He closed the space between the two of you and gripped your jaw tightly. You looked up at him with wide eyes, he was so angry. His mouth crashed into yours and you felt yourself slip away into blissful submission.

This wasn't normal for you. When you wanted to fight you let him have it. You would shout at him and was always secretly grateful that he could take it. He never tried to take advantage, letting you express your emotions freely. Normally without consequence. But his hands were warm and gripping at your flesh madly.

You felt like you should make an effort to push back, try to take some control back. But your body had a mind of its own. You wanted him to make it up to you, and for once you didn’t want to be the one thinking and doing.

You let him ravish you, pulling apart the front of your dress. His mouth biting the flesh along your breastbone. He pushed you against the living room wall, and a crashing sound was noted in your periphery but you didnt have the brain power to care. He used his knee to press his way between your legs. His hand ran up the inside of your thigh bringing your skirts up higher.

His mouth tenderly sucked in a nipple causing you to knot your fingers in his hair. A groan escaped your lips, your eyes fluttered closed and the last of your thoughts faded away.

Your mind was singularly focused on receiving his touch. He placed one last sharp bite against the base of your neck before picking you up. He kissed you messily as he carried you back to the bedroom. Kocking over piles of books and experiments. The place would be a disaster after but you didnt care. His large body somehow managed to safely navigate the chaos before reaching the bedroom. He threw you down on the bed and quickly discarded your dress. His body was on yours in the span of a breath, he wasn't going to risk letting you sober up and snap back to reality.

A faint warning sounded that there were still men waiting outside the house… That thing could be dangerous. The thought only made you wetter.

Your mind went blank as you felt his mouth on your clit. No warm-up, no warning. Your legs snapped shut and you let out a scream. Your hips bucked and he placed a hard slap to the side of your thigh.

You were getting close, your voice was loud. He moved away and you tried to push his face back down. He resisted you easily. With a fluid motion, he had moved his whole length inside you. The stretch was almost enough to make you orgasm.

“Not yet.” He snarled, thrusting inside you wildly. His large hand cradled your neck with a delicious grip, his teeth sinking into the flesh under your collarbone once more.

The pain and pleasure was too much for you. Your hips met his every thrust desperate for his command. Your throat was sore from crying out.

His thrusts became harder and deeper, stealing the air from your lungs. Your whole body was tensing up.

“Cum” he growled into your ear and your body contracted and seized. The pressure was unbearable, he forced his way in and out of your tight cunt, finding his own release.

After an eternity your body finally collapsed into nothingness. The most soothing nothingness.

Sherlock collapsed onto the bed next to you. Pulling you against his naked body tightly. You let him move your limp body, still not able to grasp the world.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into your hair. His voice was thick with grief, and you shuddered against the sudden cold that moved against your skin. “I will send you to Frace, there is a monastery there -”

“Stange thing to do to a woman before banishing her to live with nuns” You mumbled rubbing your cheek against the hair on his chest.

“I can keep you safe.” He sighed heavily.

“Perfectly safe here. He’ll find me if you send me away, better to stay next to you. Handle this like every other case.” You were very proud of the contributions you made to the cases you had helped with.

___________

The man shifted looking down at his watch once again. The lady never left the apartment. He felt antsy, Moriarty made it very clear how he deals with disobedience, the last thing he wanted was to end up another case file on Sherlock’s desk.

He didnt really want this job. He looked at the apartment window through his side-view mirror. Guilt hit him at the thought of kidnapping a woman. His brother had made it very clear that this was the only way to pay off his debts. The thought of his nephew and sister-in-law, made him stay in his seat.

Stupid family.

After a long while he got down from the carriage. He ran up the stairs and was hit with the sounds of crashing and screaming without his better judgment opened the apartment door. 221B, just like in the papers.

To his astonishment, the place was trashed. Books, instruments, broken glass, and various liquids thrown across the hardwood. The sound of the woman’s screams made his stomach drop. Sounds like maybe someone else was hired, in case she went the other way or something. With a heavy sense of guilt, the man turned and shut the door behind him. He ran down the street leaving the carriage there. Maybe whoever else was on the mission would go back for it.

Thinking one last bitter thought about his family, he got on the next train out of London. He sat on the train and said a prayer for the poor woman, pledging never to get involved with such things again.

#sherlock holmes #Enola holmes #Sherlock holmes #henry cavill #Sherlock Holmes X reader #Henry Cavill Sherlock x reader #Enola Holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes oneshot #enola holmes oneshot

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jellycolors · 2 years

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𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘱𝘴𝘥

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞/𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞

𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥

#jellycolors #louis partridge icons #louis partridge #louis partridge packs #louis partridge with psd #louis partridge x reader #louis partridge moodboard #louis partridge imagine #moodboards #moodboard soft #enola holmes #character moodboard #no psd icons #louis partridge premades #enola holmes icons #enola holmes 2 #enola holmes rp #enola holmes fanfiction

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dreamsontheirway · 11 months

Text

Darling | Enola x Tewkesbury

Summary: Enola is sick and refuses to relax, drabble Warnings: sickness Word Count: 0.6k

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"Enola," Tewkesbury spoke, a slight edge to his voice. "Please lay down and get some rest."

The young woman was scampering about her office, filing paperwork and organizing case files. Her hair was tousled and disheveled, her face flushed red from the high temperature wracking her body.

She had woken up with a pounding headache, but there was work to do and mysteries to solve, so she continued on as normal. When Tewkesbury stopped by her office, tea and scones in hand, he had immediately noticed her red-rimmed eyes and blushing face. He had reached out to her, sharply yanking his hand back upon making contact with her scorching forehead.

"I'm fine, Tewkesbury. I have far too much to do right now."

"Then let me help, Enola. I can tell you aren't feeling well."

The girl only shook her head in response, her curly brown locks following the movement with ease. The motion made her slightly dizzy, but she merely sighed and continued filing papers.

"Will you at least sit for a moment and sip at your tea or take a bite of the scone? You need food."

Enola looked at him then, and he could see the pure tiredness in her eyes. His heart wrenched, wanting nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and tend to her every request.

"Fine," she spoke coldly, taking a seat at her desk and grabbing for the hot tea.

Tewksbury sat opposite her and began picking at his own breakfast.

"What all do you need to complete today? Can I help at all?"

She began nibbling at her blueberry scone before speaking.

"I have mostly a lot of filing and case files to finalize today. If you feel you must aid me in this, perhaps I can find some organizing tasks for you to do."

Tewkesbury nodded, satisfied that he could do something proactive to make her day easier. If she insisted on working while ridden with a virus against his protests, then the least he could do was be there while she labored away.

"Alright, that's enough. Let's get started. Tewkes, you can alphabetize this pile of file folders here." Enola spoke with a tenacity that made Tewkesbury wonder how she was still standing, her face growing redder by the minute.

He looked at her skeptically before replying, "alright."

The two of them continued working diligently for an hour or so. They had gotten a lot done, but Tewksbury could tell that Enola was beginning to become fatigued. She was still working, but every once in a while she swayed back and forth.

"Enola," Tewksbury had cooed, saddened.

She had swayed more heavily then, and he reached out to steady her. His hands gripped her waist tightly, and he leaned her against the edge of her desk.

"I know you aren't feeling well, darling, please," Tewkesbury had pleaded.

Enola merely groaned in response, knowing that she had reached peak exhaustion and might pass out if she didn't lay down. She held her tired head in her hand and whimpered. Tewkesbury could sense her submission, and he helped guide her to the chair in the living room area.

"Oh, Enola," he cooed, brushing the sweaty hair from her face once she was sat on the sofa. She had declined so quickly that he had not sensed it until it was too late.

She almost immediately fell asleep, and Tewkesbury pulled the ottoman closer so he could sit next to her. He fetched a cold cloth and laid it across her steaming forehead and waited patiently for her to wake up.

-----

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#enola x tewkesbury #enola holmes blurb #enola holmes fanfiction #enola holmes fic #enola holmes fanfic #enola holmes #enola holmes 2 #enola holmes x reader #enola holmes imagines #enola x tewkesbury blurb

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enola28 · 1 year

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Enola Holmes (Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Enola Holmes/Viscount "Tewky" Tewksbury Characters: Enola Holmes, Viscount "Tewky" Tewksbury Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Hurt Enola Holmes, Treating Wounds, Minor Injuries, violence mention, Established Relationship, no beta we die like enola's dad, Post-Canon, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff Summary:

And yet, his touch was gentle. His hands ran up her arm gently, as if he was inspecting a thin petal instead of a wound. If Enola was less tired, she would have rolled her eyes and teased him, complaining about how she wasn’t a delicate flower.

But after having spent all day locked in a room, starved, and beaten, that wasn’t true. If anything, she felt more delicate than she ever had. More broken. ____ Or - Enola struggles with constantly having to save others. Tewksbury reminds her she doesn't have to.

#holmesbury #enola holmes #enola x tewkesbury #enola holmes x tewksbury #tewksbury x enola #holmesbury fanfic #holmesbury fanfiction #enola holmes fic #enola holmes fanfic #enola holmes fanfiction #mine

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fandomtravelers · 1 year

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It's understandable, but unnecessary

Summary :

Enola's story as she barges into her brothers' lives.

or the joys and sorrow of being the youngest holmes sibling. Told in little one-shots/snippets.

#enola holmes fanfiction #enola holmes #sherlock holmes #Sherlock and enola #Protective sherlock holmes #This is just me wanting more holmes siblings interaction #With enola :)

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year

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Hi, can I ask for some Sherlock Holmes with a side of spanking and cuddles?

Title: The Paganini Problem

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

Fandom: Enola Holmes series

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: Being Sherlock’s wife proves to be difficult when a case stumps him. For @princessphilly, I hope this works!!

Warnings: female!masturbation, spanking, softDom!Sherlock

A/N: I listened to “24 Caprices for Solo Violin, Op. 1, MS 25: No. 24 in A Minor” while writing this, you do not have to. But it is quite good if you like violin and suspenseful music. Also, Enola correctly guesses that Paganini is Sherlock’s favorite composer in the first Enola Holmes film, so like, research! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

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Cover Art by me

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The sounds of violin wafted through 221B Baker Street. You loved to hear Sherlock play most days. But, today was different. This was day three of a Paganini marathon, which could only mean one thing.

He was stumped on a case.

A case he refused to talk to you about. No, he could only converse with his beloved violin about it. However, that’s not how you see it. No.

Your perception? He decided to play instead of paying attention to you. Being the brat that you are, you are determined to make him regard your presence.

You don your tightest bodice and skirt, the deep sapphire one that Sherlock purchased for you as a gift when he asked you to move into Baker Street. He specifically had it tailored to your measurements, showing off your ample bosom and child-bearing hips.

You make your way from your shared bedroom into the drawing room where Sherlock is playing. His violin is tucked between his chin and shoulder. His left hand bows at a speed that makes the messy curls on his head dance along to the music. His right hand holds the violin at the neck so delicately, it’s almost loving.

You step around several stacks of papers, narrowly missing a tower of books. You remind yourself to have that talk again with Sherlock about the difference between organization and chaos.

You finally make it to the chair next to his music stand, his eyes never leaving the sheet music. You make sure to sit down in a way that makes a squeak that Sherlock has commented on many a time. He’s actually shown you how to sit so that said squeak does not occur. You remarked that he could just get rid of the chair, to which he replied that you can sit elsewhere if you’re going to complain.

No reaction.

You seethe, watching as he continues with 24 Caprices. You kick over the music stand and the sheets dance gracefully to the floor.

Nothing.

He simply closes his eyes and plays from memory. He plays it perfectly, of course. Paganini is his favorite composer, after all. He would know it forward and backward.

You were growing impatient, running out of options for how to get this man’s attention. Until it hit you. The idea was just ridiculous enough to work. It would be depravity in polite society, sure. But clever enough to get him to at least acknowledge your presence. And that would be enough.

You get up from the chair and make your way over to the chaise lounge. Arranging a few pillows to rest your head upon, you then lie down and pull your skirt up enough to get to your drawers. You pull them down and toss them out of the way, Sherlock being none the wiser as he continues playing.

You let your hand wander down to your folds, already slick with the frustration of being untouched for days. You allow yourself time to tease, playing with your swollen bud before dipping lower to enter a single finger within yourself. A sigh escapes your lips as you explore your inner walls. As another finger joins the first, Sherlock’s name falls from your lips.

Sherlock’s sense of smell is what pulls him out of his hyperfocus. He smells your arousal as he hears his name in the air. In an instant, his fixation becomes all about you.

He places down his violin and bow next to the fallen music stand, not putting it right-side up. Not bothering to be quiet, as your moans now fill the room louder than his playing did, he stalks over to you and clears his throat loudly.

Your hand stills and you open one eye looking up at your husband. The look on his face of disappointment is enough to cause heat to flare behind your cheeks. Then, his face changes to that of…impatience?

“Well? Are you going to finish then? Or must I intervene?” Sherlock’s words have a bite to them, and you can’t say you’re surprised. Well, you are stunned he is offering to help.

At least you were under the impression that he is offering to help. And that is why he is the expert detective and you are...well, not.

Before you can ask for assistance, Sherlock is lifting you off the chaise and throws you over his shoulder. He takes you into the bedroom and set you down on your feet before sitting on the edge of the bed.

He points to you and beckons you with a curved finger in a ‘come hither’ motion. You begin to sit next to him, but he blocks your path.

“I don’t believe bad girls get to sit down next to Sir. Over my knee with yourself, girl. You’re going to practice your counting. And don’t make me repeat myself.” Sherlock’s voice is stern and you involuntarily gulp before settling your middle across his lap.

Sherlock pulls up your skirt so it rests along your back and the cool air of the room produces gooseflesh along your bare bottom and legs. No sooner do you register that feeling does the first blow land. You grunt as Sherlock’s hand grazes the skin of your left cheek.

“One, Sir!” You cry out, surprised at the white-hot heat of the smack.

“Good girl,” he praises.

He raises his hand again. He waits until your ass relaxes and brings down his hand upon your right cheek. This time harder than the first.

“Two, Sir!” You shout, the sting radiating through you.

“Good girl, I think you deserve one more though,” Sherlock informs you and you nod, “Use your words, girl. Do you deserve another?”

“Yes, Sir, I deserve another,” you whimper, clenching your thighs to try and gain some sort of friction.

“I wholeheartedly agree, my dear,” he laughs, punctuating his sentiment with one last swat to your left cheek.

“Three, Sir!” You gasp, clutching onto Sherlock’s pant leg as his hand finds its way between your legs to find you soaked.

“That’s my good girl, look how soaked you are for me. I bet you’re right on the edge. All you need is one…last…push,” Sherlock plunges two fingers into your sodden cunt and expertly finds your inner bundle of nerves. He massages it while praising you for taking your punishment so well. “You’ve been so good for me, my love. You take all the attention you need, girl.”

Before long, you are clenching around Sherlock’s fingers and he is working you through your orgasm with his skilled fingers. You send thanks to the heavens for marrying a man who understands the female anatomy.

As you come down, Sherlock pulls down your skirt. He pulls a pillow from the bed for you to sit on as he turns you around in his lap. He kisses your forehead and presses your head down to lean on his shoulder, resting his head upon yours.

“Now, my dear little one. Care to explain what that little show was for?” His voice is calm as his arms wrap around you, holding you flush to him as he rocks a bit back and forth.

“I hate it when you’re stuck on a case, you don’t pay any attention to your wife, my love,” You don’t attempt to hide the sorrow in your voice.

“You’re so right. I’ve neglected my dearest. She even had to turn to her own ministrations in the wake of my absence,” he pulls back and looks down at you, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “As frustrating as a case may be, it is no excuse to ignore you. I promise you, my love, it will not happen again. You have my word.”

“Thank you, Sherlock,” you twirl your finger around a curl of his hair and watch it spring back, “I love you.”

“And I love you, dear one. Now, shall we solve this case, Mrs. Holmes?”

“That we shall, Mr. Holmes.”

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finnicks · 1 year

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( fic ) of flowers

of flowers

enola holmes | enola/tewkesbury; teen; 16,997 words Enola enlists Tewkesbury’s help to solve a murder case where clues are found in the meaning of flowers.

#holmesbury #enola x tewkesbury #tewkesbury x enola #holmesbury fic #holmesbury fanfic #holmesbury fanfiction #enola holmes fic #enola holmes fanfic #enola holmes fanfiction #userjaded #my fic #*mine #one of my favourites

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asgards-princess-of-mischief · 6 months

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Last Updated: 2023-12-06

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