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sherlocksoft · 11 months

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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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werrrrrrrrrrrrrrrcat · 1 month

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the adventure of charles augustus milverton

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sakshisahu · 5 months

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John Watson in the 19th century

Thanks for notes & reblogs!

Tagging : @catlock-holmes @7-percent @calaisreno @helloliriels @asherloki @a-victorian-girl @rogers060967 @devoursjohnlock @keirgreeneyes @johnlockwatsonholmes @topsyturvy-turtely

#sherlock fandom #bbc sherlock #bbc john watson #victorian sherlock #victorian johnlock

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a-freemaniac · 7 months

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Happy Anniversary to me:)

One year ago I started to turn fanfiction into books.

I'm a librarian I hate digital reading, but I love fanfiction.

BBC Sherlock itself is nothing else but fanfiction.

I love the stories like I love almost all ACD and Pastiches.

Plus the books in my hand help me to get grounded when anxiety hits me which is a daily occurrence.

Finally I was able to let the company print me some AU stories.

I'm still waiting for three more.

And NO!

I don't make any profit.

There is a company in Germany who print PDF's into books.

You choose colour and picture for the cover and two weeks later you get your book.

There is no publishing, the company prints your PDF and send the only copy to your home address.

I used the download button on AO3.

I always leave comments and kudos!

These books are my therapy even more so than the actual series.

Thank you to all writers for making my mind a better place.❤️

#fanfiction #books #bbc sherlock #johnlock #sherlock loves john #sherlock holmes #john watson #alternate universe #season 1 #season 2 #season 3 #season 4 #victorian sherlock #headcanon #thank you #grateful #mind palace #happy place

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bluebellinbakerstreet · 6 months

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6/100 Sherlock in black and white

#sherlock #benedict cumberbatch #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #the abominable bride #victorian sherlock #sherlockedit #sherlock b+w #mine #repost because i moved blogs

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insulesbianphasmid · 2 months

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Draw your OTP like this

#THEYRE SO FUCKING STUPIF #dare i say #harrykim #kimharry #coded #draw your comfort characters #draw your otp #otp #disco elysium #mortal kombat #johnlock #victorian sherlock

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abandonedquishe · 23 days

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I CAN'T — VICTORIAN SHERLOCK IN THE MODERN WORLD IS JUST… 😭

(I'm genuinely stimming over this book so here's another line)

(Thank you, @calaisreno , for this wonderful fic)

Through a glass, darkly

#john watson #sherlock holmes #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #ao3 writer #ao3 #through a glass darkly #this is so good #victorian sherlock #victorian johnlock

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pix-writes · 8 months

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Been watching old movies lately and came across basil rathbone's sherlock & that awakened in me the remembrance of watching granada holmes, oh, ages ago, as a tween & now I've fell down into my love for Sherlock Holmes again! (acd/Victorian decidedly, no m*ftiss here tyvm)

I. am. obsessed. with Jeremy Brett's version of holmes 😍 he's simply the best screen version there's no question {and the fact that now I know he's bi & nd (I am too!) makes it all the better viewing 💜} - but I also am really enjoying watching burke and hardwicke's portrayals of Watson this time around, I don't think I really took notice of just how well they play our good friend & colleague ☺️ Dr John Watson the first time around and looking kinda hot while doing it, I think.

#back on my sherlock bullshit #I've fallen down the stairs into another hyperfixation fandom when I was really trying not to!#oh wells!#acd holmes #granada holmes #acd sherlock holmes #victorian sherlock #victorian husbands #acd johnlock #granada johnlock #jeremy brett #tl;dr I found out that granada holmes exists and my og ship again #basil rathbone ily as sherlock but the movies aren't as great I'm sorry #Jeremy Sherlock is so 😍😍😍 y'know?

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strangelockd · 1 year

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A Queen For A Mindpalace

Pairing: Victorian Sherlock x Reader

Synopsis: You and Sherlock have a past, but before you attempt to move on. You stop by to make amends, only for a realization to take place. The question remains, will you stay or go?

Word Count: 2,750k

Warning: Angst,Pining,Tooth Rotting Fluff,Male Masterbation,Thigh Riding,Mentions Of Past Sexual Encounter,NSFW Themes

•If you enjoy the song you can find it on my Sherlock Playlist•

Slouching deeper into his favorite chair Sherlock stared up at the ceiling, she will come back. Casting his weary gaze to a small side table the detective reached for his trusty pipe, taking a few pinches of tobacco; his nimble fingers effortlessly stuffed the brown dried herb into the blackened wooden chamber. The leftover soot always stained his fingers with just a tinge of black. Packing the leaves snugly into the wooden bowl he smiled proudly. His fingers went groping inside his silk-lined pocket fishing out for the matchbox, sliding the paper box open Sherlock pinched out a match striking the side of the box and igniting the pipe chamber. Releasing a satisfied exhale, the smell of tobacco loomed in the flat leaving a smokey haze. It was the ideal evening after the week he had but something was missing. A sigh escaped his lips as he leaned over grabbing the violin trying to banish any thought from his mind.

You had your chance…many times, but now you really screwed it up. You brainless old fool….

Releasing a sigh, Sherlock brought the violin up resting it under his chin. His fingers effortlessly danced along the neckline as he got lost in one of his favorite pastimes. Closing his eyes, Sherlocks mind could not help but wander to all the memories. How could he forget the first-time you showed up on his doorstep in the middle of the night soaked from the storm, asking him to help find her father's killer. The case that would change his life forever in more ways than one. His mind wandered deeper as he recalled your first night together. How your delicious sex swallowed him perfectly like you were tailored just for him. Or the countless times those supple ruby-red lips moaned as you devoured him whole with a fiery passion. Little would he find out how much he craved that flame, your desire…the way you moaned his name as you reached the crescendo of your climax was better than any drug he ever consumed.

He missed the nights he would worship at your feet getting drunk off you. The supple bounce your breasts made as you rode him again and again into climax. He missed the way they felt under his touch, the way your nipples would pebble under his touch as he would tease and pinch them into flushed sensitive buds. The way his hands would travel down the small of your back as he rested them on the swell of your hips. Oh, how he missed the way you tasted, the way his tongue traveled from bud to bud as he trailed his mouth up your sex-flushed skin leaving purple blossoms in their wake. The way you felt under him, the way your body bloomed only for him, for you were a force of nature, and he wanted to be in the center of your storm. But all of that was in the past now for he had to focus on the reality at play. You moved on, and he was stuck here in London…alone.

Sherlock groaned, noticing the stiffness in his trousers he rolled his eyes, for he was now conflicted with an obvious but still awkward choice. Setting the violin down, Sherlocks large slender digits slowly grazed the outside of his seams as his mind trailed back to you. Thumbing through a drawer he fished for a rag, his hips bucked at the increasing sensitivity of his pressing member making Sherlock groan. His eyes caught a white handkerchief, and hastily pawed for it, pulling it closer Sherlock noticed the lipstick stains…. Y/N. Lifting it to his nose he took a deep inhale taking in the remnants of your scent…lavender. The smell shot right to his cock as he felt the pressure grow greater.

Oh, bloody hell screw it.

Lifting himself upward Sherlock quickly unbuttoned his trousers allowing as much that was necessary to do the deed. Once they rested on his knees Sherlock quickly sunk once more into the chair. His palm stroked across his virility thats now standing practically at the ready. As he grazed the bulbous head of his member, leaning his head back becoming lost in his own pleasure. Lost in the smell of you…His cock oozed out the hints of glistening pre cum as he groaned in ecstasy chasing his chemical high.

Knock knock knock

Dropping the handkerchief to the floor Sherlock quickly adjusted his trousers breathlessly, “Mrs. Hudson, will you get that! I- I’m in the middle of something!” stuffing what he can into his pants with little avail he managed to finally straighten himself out.

Her voice trailed off in the distance with that sweet tone, “Sherlock I’ve told you this before, I’m not your housekeeper,” hearing her bedroom door close shut Sherlock rolled his eyes again. Apparently, she was not going to accommodate.

Knock knock knock

“Ugh!” he scoffed standing up lazily. This better be worth it. Sherlock stood up reaching for his silken robe, tying the matching beige belt around his toned waist he looked around one last time. Making his way to the front door he turned the latch; suddenly having to catch his breath once more because it was you, of all the people standing outside looking beautiful as ever. Your corset hugging you in all the right places as his eyes trailed back to the ruby red lips he remembers so well. All those nights where you would entertain each other with the pleasures of your flesh and conversations, but those were faded passions burned to memories. His eyes casted his gaze to your voluptuous bosom. Admiring the rise and fall with the swelling of your breathing as his trousers slowly began returning to their previously stiffened state. Leaning against the doorframe Sherlock cleared his throat; an obvious poor attempt at maintaining composure.

“Y/N…to what do I owe the spontaneous visit,” Sherlock stammered while his fingers nonchalantly adjusted his robes attempting to hide the growing stiffening arousal. Shrugging your shoulders, you allowed yourself in, “I was in the neighborhood and wanted to stop by.” Taking a seat in his chair you smirked knowing it would annoy him. Closing the door Sherlock turned walking back placing his hands in his pockets, staring at you flatly, “you know there’s another chair right there” gesturing with a finger masking his annoyance. Setting down your reticule drawstring bag smiling, “Ya but I like this spot and besides,” crossing your legs with a smug expression,” I’m a guest.”

Sherlock released a scoff rolling his eyes. Taking out the pipe he reached for the tobacco box. “You’re not a guest, you’re more of an annoyance” a beautiful annoyance, taking a step closer his eyes glowed against the fireplace. Igniting the chamber he exhaled a puff of smoke.

“That’s mighty bold of you to say considering US,” spitting with venom in your tone.

He paused returning his gaze to you, taking in his expression you noticed his eyes harden, “There never was an us Y/N,” those six words cut through your heart like ice. At that point you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to get your point across and take your leave.

“Look I didn’t come here to argue Sherlock. In fact, I came to say goodbye.” That look of earnestness in your eyes left him dead in his tracks. He knew you were not lying this time about leaving England. You have an offer for a job overseas in the new world. It was going to be a fresh start for both of you since there was no future in London, especially with Sherlock Holmes.

He took another step closer his eyes never leaving yours, “Well if that’s the case, then I feel like there’s nothing much left to say” he took another puff, Tell her the truth…before it's too late. His mind screamed to stay but his feet lead him forward as he took the seat across from you.

Pausing, your mouth parted open in shock at his lack of response, “that’s it? That all you have to say Sherlock Holmes?” your tone above a whisper. Desperation hazed as you fought off the tears.

He wasn’t going to fight for me after all…

“It’s just that…,” Sherlock took a deep sigh, “I don’t want to be the one who holds you back. You deserve a future and need to go on and forget about me Y/N.” By this time, he couldn’t look at you for it was too painful. He can already picture the devastation in your eyes. Peaking over, he was right. Tears streamed down your face as you reached for a tissue from the mahogany chaise lounge. You were always stunning, but when you cried it was devastatingly beautiful. It aroused him in some way. This look of pure innocence, walls completely torn down. You were a goddess of grace he couldn’t stay away from anymore no matter how hard he fought it.

Fight for her you idiot…just ask her, now!

Leaning forward he sat the pipe down next to him taking a deep breath. His gaze locked yours as he slowly raised a hand upward, “Y/N, you know this is for the best” his chest rose and fell quickly as he attempted to steady his breath all while convincing himself that this is even what he wanted. Sherlock couldn’t help his rapid heartbeat as he was sure you could hear it through his starched white shirt. The ring was burning a hole in his pocket at this point. Normally he was an excellent liar, but with you, he couldn’t mask the truth for very long.

“You don’t get it, do you?” wiping your eyes you noticed his eyes widening, “every time I walk away from you, I feel like a piece of your soul is with me. You’ve stolen my heart Sherlock Holmes, the least you can do is tell me what you intend to do with it before I g—.”

Before you could finish Sherlock lunged forward, his form towered over you on his favorite chair as his mouth consumed yours with a slow passion. His lips parted yours ever so slowly but begging to taste more. Despite the time apart your bodies still moved in sync with each other. As eager as he was to have you, Sherlock wanted to take his time to savor every bit of you. He noticed your hands instinctively trailing through his slicked-back hair, tugging the ravened strands gently. He released a hiss as his palms trailed down the chair to meet your face, he will have to fix his hair later no doubt. Sherlock smiled wide, he knew his hands were always your weakness, for you couldn’t help but lean into his touch making him smile all the brighter.

Tilting your head back he dove deeper into your mouth savoring the taste of you. You moaned as he pulled away slowly, his nose just a hairline away. His thumb gently rubbed a tear away as he smiled sweetly at you. Your eyes widened as you saw your reflection in his sea-glass gaze. “I intend to never let it go again…because you are everything,” his gaze unwavering, he pressed your palm to his chest. Feeling the rapid tapping of his heart under his shirt, you realized he was not lying. “For you are worth the fight my love”

Your eyes lit up as he leaned into you once more feeling the warm tears stream down your cheek. Parting your lips, he moaned as he shifted your weight to his lap. Lifting your skirts, you adjusted yourself as you rested on top of his stiffening trousers.

“Oh!” You exclaimed feeling yourself turning bright red. Even when not fully erect Sherlock’s cock made you blush. The reaction went straight to his cock as he smiled widely like the Cheshire Cat.

His tone laced with lust and longing,

“Like what you feel?” One hand wiping your tears as the other trailed down resting on your hip.

Rocking back and forth chanting like a prayer, “always…” you missed this. Missed the way he made you feel. Arching your back you rode him slowly, leaning into his hand enjoying every twitch and response Sherlock made. You always had a way of breaking him, turning the great detective into putty. You couldn’t help but grin as your eye caught something on the floor. Pausing your movements Sherlock groaned in protest. Leaning over scooping up the material immediately noticing was it is. The old handkerchief that you swore was “lost.” Returning upwards facing Sherlock you noticed a rosier tone in his cheeks as he looked away sheepishly. Dangling it in front of him you teased, “what's this?”

His ears flushed a bright red as he snatched it from your hand inhaling the thin cotton smiling sentimentality, “Oh, just a souvenir,” tucking it into his pocket he couldn’t wait any longer.

“There’s been something I have been meaning to ask you”

Fishing out a small velvet box he grabbed your hand.

His voice was slightly shaking as Sherlock fumbled with the box, “I should have done this the first morning I woke up next to you Y/N”

Opening the box slowly your eye’s widened as they gazed upon a gorgeous diamond halo engagement ring. The beautiful rose gold complemented the fiery opal that stood in the center. It left you speechless.

“Y/N, please stay. For I cannot survive another day of you not being my wife. I love you. Please, marry me” his eyes never left yours as he waited for an answer. Your hands shook as you sat there going through thousands of options at once. But all the options always lead back to him, this man in front of you who choose you above everyone else. This consulting detective was yours and you wanted to be his and his alone. Jumping off his lap you squealed, “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes! Of course, I will marry you!”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as Sherlock grinned from ear to ear. He stood up, placing the band on your finger before giving your palms a gentle kiss. His lips were warm and inviting as they danced up your arm. Peppering your face with kisses, he pulled you in for an embrace. The feeling of his sturdy form made you feel so comfortable and safe. Bringing your hand up he laced his with yours to gaze upon the glittering ring resembling your future together.

“It really is very beautiful Sherlock, where did you even find it?” Leaning your head into his shoulder, Sherlock moved a lock of hair kissing your neckline whispering, “oh this, it was Mrs.Hudsons. She thought it would look perfect on you. She’s been hounding me for months to puck up the courage to ask you.”

You chuckled, “not surprised the great detective is bashful”

“Not bashful,” he chuckled placing another kiss against your neck, “just a old fool who kept waiting for the right moment”

His hands trailed to your waistline as he slowly turned you around. Arms laced around each other you both got swept away in the moment and began swaying back and forth together. A small, adorable dance that was shared between the two of you. Taking his hand up he spun you around slowly bringing you back to his chest. Leaning your head against him you took in the strength of his forearms, how you missed his embrace. Sighing with joy Sherlock sat back down in his chair, pulling you in his lap his arms laced around you, “Im sorry for saying such hurtful things my darling,” looking you in the eyes his voice lowered, “I love you more than anything in the world Y/N. And I can't wait for you to be my bride”

Lacing your fingers with your future bridegroom you brought them up to kiss his hand gently. The ring glimmered in the light as your forehead rested on his,“Its ok Sherlock, its in the past. What is love without forgiveness.”

Words were no longer needed as Sherlock held you tight, he was always a handsy man even though Sherlock would never admit it. Especially when after a case there was nothing he wanted more then to come home and just hold you. No words. Just the pure feeling of you with him. For you were not just his fiancé, but the queen to his mind palace, and you finally made your way back home.

Heres the ring that inspired me…❤️

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sherlockcorner · 1 year

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Sherlock Holmes lockscreens

#bbc sherlock #sherlock #221b #sherlocked #sherlock holmes #victorian sherlock #benedict cumberbatch #loockscreen #wallpaper #sherlock edit #edit

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ceruleanmindpalace · 13 days

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Finally, I managed to post the next chapter of 'The Chemist'. I am not proud it took me this long to finish another chapter.

Hope you are still with me despite the delay.

#sherlock holmes #autistic sherlock #whump #caring John #PTSD Sherlock #hurt/comfort #victorian sherlock #Asylum Sherlock

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sherlocksoft · 10 months

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The Experiment pt. 2

Sherlock Holmes x reader

The Experiment pt. 1 // Masterlist

Summary: Sherlock needs something new to keep him occupied. You have the perfect answer to his problems.

Author’s notes: couldn’t resist writing part 2, which was also requested after I wrote part 1. In my Victorian dirty talk research I discovered that the term ‘blow job’ comes from the Victorian term for cum: ‘blow,’ and how could I not make the most of that information??

Warnings/content: nsfw - smut, f!reader, blow job, hand job, marriage, first times (Sherlock’s first blow job), discussion of safe word, sub!Sherlock vibes if you squint

Upon returning to 221B, you found Sherlock barely out of bed; half-dressed and dropped down onto the nearest armchair, hair mussed from sleep and face sullen.

He hadn’t had a case for over a week, and whilst at first he had taken to spending his free time gladly tending to your desires, you did need to leave the house from time to time to run errands and see to your other commitments.

It was moments such as these that the ennui really set in. Sherlock needed something to occupy him, and if he couldn't have you, he needed something new to excite him, but whatever that would be hadn't yet arrived on his doorstep.

‘Sherlock, darling, I’m home,’ you chimed carefully, not wanting to startle him out of his melancholy.

His eyes lit up for a moment before he saw that you were already busy with the books you’d collected, and he dropped back into the chair.

You were eyeing him, though, surreptitiously as you flicked through one of your new novels pretending to admire the illustrations while really you were admiring him.

‘Remember our wedding night?’ you mused, attempting to sound entirely casual.

‘Fondly,’ he sighed dreamily. If only he could feel the excitement of that night anew, the thrill of learning your exquisite body for the first time.

‘I’ve been doing some research,’ you went on, finally snapping shut your book.

'Oh?' An eyebrow raised, interest piqued.

‘There was something you mentioned that night that I read up on since I’ve been wholly unable to distract my mind away… it's something I rather fancy I’d like to try.’

Your voice had turned sultry, immediately capturing Sherlock’s attention, his head snapping up so that he could examine your current state and gather your precise intentions.

Pupils dilated, cheeks flushed, breath quickening, he thought, and at that, heat stirred in his belly, coursing to his core.

‘You told me you would like to experiment with your own orgasms.’ Shivers crept up your neck, not yet quite used to speaking in such a way in the company of a gentleman. ‘Do you remember? You wondered how it might feel to climax in my hand... or my mouth…’ your tongue advanced slowly around your parted lips rather pointedly, eyes locked on his.

‘And how do you propose we conduct this experiment?’ he panted, beginning to tremble.

‘Sherlock… I'll need to taste you.’

His heart began to race and his eyelashes fluttered, unsure where to look. Your lust for him often threw him from his place of comfort. To him, it was ever an unexpected thrill to be the object of your desire, but never an unwelcome one.

‘Where… how do I-’ he started, cheeks flushing with shame at how utterly libidinous he felt for you.

‘Lay down for me, here, on the chaise,’ you beamed, thrilled that he was ready for a new experience with you.

As he peeled himself from the little armchair to stretch his long body out, he propped himself up on a cushion so he could observe what you would do to him.

You knelt between his ankles to slide your fingers up past his knees and over his strong thighs. ‘Spread your legs a little more… that’s it,’ you encouraged as he settled into position, one foot landing firmly on the floor, grounding him. From what you'd read, you supposed he may need it.

‘I’m going to unfasten your breeches and take you in my hand first,’ you said softly as your fingers got to work on unfastening the buttons keeping him decent. ‘Only briefly, though, for this time, I would like to suck your manhood and have you spill every last drop of your blow down my throat until you’re left limp.’

Sherlock’s breath caught in his throat.

‘Remember the code word?’ you breathed, eyes growing wide with wonder, ever fascinated with his size as your fingers released his already throbbing arousal and wrapped delicately around him, pumping lazily.

Sherlock nodded quickly, eager to begin. ‘Mycroft,’ he uttered breathily, ‘if I don’t enjoy the sensation, or it becomes too much, I say it once, and you'll stop.’

‘Precisely. And if you do enjoy it?’ you smirked up at him, gripping a little more firmly as you stroked him, lips now so close to the tip of his length he could feel the warmth of your breath against it.

‘Oh-ah-mmh… then I… ah- I will cry your name… over and over until I have- mmh!- no breath left in my… oh!- body.’

‘Understood.’

Your delightfully plump, wet lips finally brushed against the flesh of his tip, parting to suckle at the precum that oozed steadily out onto your lapping tongue.

Sherlock cried out, his body jolting at the overwhelming fever that spread rapidly through his body at the heat of your mouth on him. He tried to think through it, tried to memorise the sensations, but nothing had quite come close to this when it came to his pleasure.

He'd fucked you every which way one could imagine, finding easy release in the depths of your own pleasure just by knowing that he was the one to cause it. But this, entirely focussed on his needs, was a whole other game.

He couldn't grasp any of the thoughts swirling around his pleasure-addled mind, couldn't focus on anything but how you felt, wet and warm around his root, devouring him like a starved woman presented with a delicious meal.

And a delicious meal, he was. His cock swelled within the passion of your mouth as you took him in further still, your massaging fingers at the base, compensating for what you couldn’t fit. Remembering what you’d read in that filthy little book you'd been keeping secret, you bobbed your head and hollowed your cheeks, and you sucked, gently at first but slowly building to something more intense that made it harder and harder for him to find any semblance of focus.

You gazed up at him, eyes sparkling with your own arousal, to see him completely lost in pleasure, one elegant hand pressed to his forehead in delightful despair, the other gripping the edge of the cushion he laid back on so firmly that his knuckles had long since turned white.

You hummed, appreciating his weight of his heavy cock against your tongue as you felt a wetness grow between your thighs. The vibration your dirty little sound sent down his shaft caused him to whine out a string of incomprehensible obscenities, and his hips to buck up involuntarily as he fought to keep his eyes open and his head lifted enough to see you.

He’d never felt so safe with such a lack of control over his body, every nerve alight with passion and every muscle weak with complete pleasure. He couldn't think, but he didn't need to. He knew somewhere in the depths of this rapture that you would take good care of him, think through his pleasure for him, and finish him spectacularly. There was one other thing he knew for certain - one thought that pierced the haze of euphoria clouding his every thought - that his peak would come all too soon.

He couldn't fight it, he felt too week with imminent satisfaction to try to last any longer. He wanted this feeling to last forever, but also to explode between your lips and reach paradise all at once.

He released his grip on the seat cushion, and reached, trembling, for the nape of your neck. If his eyes must insist on clenching shut in unfathomable pleasure, he could at least follow your movements with touch, perhaps that would be just as enjoyable as watching.

It was.

At the exact moment that his fingers connected with your neck and slid up into your hair, he erupted with a shout, emptying his seed into your mouth and down your throat while your tongue circled his sensitive tip each time you moved upwards, and massaged his shaft as you slid back down.

Your name tore from his lips, a guttural cry that rang in your ears as he came down from his climax, breathless and groaning in exertion.

With a final lap to clean up the last traces of his peak, you sat back on your heels and smiled, proud of yourself for getting him off with such excellent results on your first attempt.

Sherlock was still very much floating on another plane of existence as his length twitched with aftershocks and softened upon your palm. You pushed up so settle over him on the chaise, appreciating his post-orgasm glow from a few inches above his handsome face.

‘A success?’ you chuckled, connecting your lips to his so he could taste himself upon them.

He nodded, opening his eyes slightly with an uneven smile meant as a silent thank you. ‘But I… I couldn’t focus on a thing. Nothing, that is, except for your mouth being stuffed full of me. Tell me you-’

Pride swelled in your chest. ‘I memorised every minute reaction.’

‘That’s my girl,’ he breathed. ‘You should write it down.’

‘Oh, I will,’ you promised, ‘in great, explicit detail. But first, another?’

His head fell back as you moved your hand gently over his sex, feeling it grow with arousal once again, and with that, a knock sounded at the door.

Disappointment flooded you. ‘You'll probably want to get that. It could be a case-’

‘They can wait,’ Sherlock whispered, waving his hand lazily. ‘I'm in the middle of a very important experiment for which we need more data...’

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werrrrrrrrrrrrrrrcat · 1 year

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They’re leaving London for the last time😭😭

#art #fanart #digital art #sherlock holmes #sherlock fanart #john watson #victorian sherlock #acd sherlock holmes #johnlock #victorian johnlock #mrs hudson #Martha Hudson #ttfbs #the two from baker street

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sakshisahu · 11 months

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Only those things our heart believes are true - These two men dearest to our 💖 never lived and so can never die. It's 1895!

#bbc sherlock #benedict cumberbatch #sherlock fandom #sherlockedit #sherlock bbc #sherlock x john #john watson #johnlock #sherlock holmes #victorian sherlock

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cigarashexpert · 1 year

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arthur conan doyle's words

sadly i just realised there's a word limit, so the rest will be in a reblog. this is just a list i created using the genius of chatgpt, so thank him hahah. it's just a list of words prominent in arthur conan doyle's writing and in victorian dictionary in general :) i just sorted the list in alphabetical order, that's all. also, there's around 300 words, so sorry for the misinformation. here we go :)

Aberration - A deviation from what is normal or expected; often used to describe something that is unusual or unexpected.

Abstemious - Moderate in eating and drinking; often used to describe someone who practices self-restraint or frugality.

Abstruse - Difficult to understand or obscure.

Adumbrate - To give a faint or partial outline of something; often used to describe a rough or preliminary sketch.

Agglomerate - To collect or gather into a cluster or mass; often used to describe something that is densely packed or crowded.

Anachronism - A thing or person that is out of place in a particular time period; often used to describe something that is anachronistic or outdated.

Anathema - A person or thing that is cursed or greatly detested; often used to describe a feeling of intense dislike or hatred.

Anodyne - Something that relieves pain or discomfort; often used to describe a remedy or treatment that soothes or eases.

Antediluvian - Extremely old or ancient; often used to describe something that is prehistoric or from a bygone era.

Apotheosis - The highest point of development or culmination; often used to describe a person or thing that has reached the pinnacle of success.

Arcane - Secret or mysterious; often used to describe knowledge or information that is difficult to understand or access.

Arrant - Utter or complete; often used to describe something that is considered to be extreme or without reservation.

Asperity - Harshness or severity; often used to describe a rough or difficult situation or personality.

Attenuate - To weaken or reduce in strength; often used to describe something that is diminished or made less intense.

Augury - A sign or omen that is used to predict the future; often used to describe a prophetic or foreboding event.

Autodidact - A person who is self-taught; often used to describe someone who has acquired knowledge through their own efforts.

Avaricious - Having an extreme desire for wealth or material gain; greedy.

Avuncular - Kind or affectionate, like an uncle; often used to describe someone who is friendly and helpful towards younger people.

Bellicose - Inclined towards aggression or conflict; often used to describe a person or nation that is warlike or aggressive.

Bifurcate - To split or divide into two branches or parts; often used to describe a forked or divided structure.

Brobdingnagian - Extremely large or immense; often used to describe something that is colossal or gargantuan.

Cabal - A secret political clique or group; often used to describe a conspiratorial or secretive organization.

Capricious - Unpredictable or impulsive; often used to describe a person or situation that is subject to sudden or erratic changes.

Carnal - Relating to the body or physical desires; often used to describe something that is sensual or sexual in nature.

Censorious - Highly critical or fault-finding; often used to describe someone who is excessively judgmental or disapproving.

Chagrin - A feeling of embarrassment or humiliation caused by a failure or disappointment.

Chicanery - Deception or trickery, often used to gain an advantage over others.

Clandestine - Secret or hidden; often used to describe something that is kept concealed or confidential.

Cogent - Clear, logical, and convincing; often used to describe a persuasive argument or case.

Compendium - A concise summary or collection of information; often used to describe a comprehensive overview or review.

Concomitant - Accompanying or associated; often used to describe something that is closely linked or connected.

Contiguous - Touching or sharing a common boundary; often used to describe things that are adjacent or neighboring.

Contravene - To violate or go against; often used to describe a breach of rules or regulations.

Convivial - Friendly, lively, and enjoyable; often used to describe a festive or social atmosphere.

Coruscate - To sparkle or glitter; often used to describe something that shines or glistens brightly.

Coterie - A small, exclusive group of people with shared interests or tastes; often used to describe a close-knit community.

Cupidity - Greed or avarice; often used to describe an excessive desire for wealth or material possessions.

Decorous - Proper or socially acceptable; often used to describe behavior or actions that are appropriate or respectable.

Defenestration - The act of throwing someone or something out of a window; often used figuratively to describe a sudden and dramatic dismissal or removal.

Deleterious - Causing harm or damage, often in a gradual or subtle way.

Deleterious - Harmful or damaging; often used to describe something that has a negative impact on health or well-being.

Demagogue - A political leader who appeals to people's emotions and prejudices rather than their reason or intellect; often used to describe a charismatic but manipulative speaker.

Denouement - The final resolution or outcome of a story or plot; often used to describe the climax or conclusion of a narrative.

Deracinate - To uproot or remove from a place of origin; often used to describe the displacement or forced migration of people or cultures.

Desuetude - Disuse or neglect; often used to describe something that has fallen out of practice or become obsolete.

Diaphanous - Light, delicate, and transparent; often used to describe fabrics or materials that are gauzy or sheer.

Didactic - Intended to teach, particularly in having moral instruction as an ulterior motive.

Dilatory - Slow or sluggish; often used to describe someone who is procrastinating or delaying action.

Discomfiture - Embarrassment or frustration; often used to describe an uncomfortable or awkward situation.

Disparage - Regard or represent as being of little worth or value; speak of in a derogatory manner.

#sir arthur conan doyle #arthur conan doyle #acd watson #acd sherlock #acd johnlock #acd john watson #victorian literature #victorian johnlock #victorian sherlock #victorian dictionary

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