#you x sherlock
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𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬
𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It is finally Y/N's turn to walk down the aisle. Sherlock can't keep his eyes off of her. She is certain that the man waiting at the alter is the one she will spend the rest of her life with. Is he?
wedding fluff and angst
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Sherlock stood at the alter, hands clasped behind his back. To the wedding guests, his sharp stance would suggest ease. In truth, each deep breath he chased was laboured and unsure.
She was a vision in white. Precious in deep sheets of ivory.
Sherlock had never seen such perfection.
Y/N took measured steps down the aisle in time to the music's pace. A few steps further and the bride would become somebody's wife.
Sherlock promised himself he would not cry today. Not one tear, he swore. He was better than that. Still, as Y/N drew closer, step by step, he wasn't certain he could keep a dry eye.
He considered turning away or focusing on the flower arrangements set behind her shoulder. Anything to keep the strain in his chest at bay.
It was in that moment of deliberation that Y/N chose to wink at him. A small gesture, hardly visible behind her veil but even so, he caught it.
Propping his shoulders back, he chose to keep looking. Better to face the music than miss a flutter of her lashes or the quiver of her lip when she smiled.
Though his throat felt constricted and his chest heaved for breath, Sherlock Holmes could not turn away from the bride.
He registered John shoot him a grin from the left. He wasn't sure that he returned it.
"She's beautiful," John said in a hushed tone.
"She's beautiful," Sherlock repeated.
Three years earlier, Sherlock had met Y/N for the first time. Since then, she had stumbled through the flat each day, always with a shy smile and a soft spoken, "hello".
He loved her from the start.
Their highs and lows, they would experience together. When she threw her head back in laugher, teeth gleaming at something her lover said, Sherlock would see it. He often revealed his experiments to her, if only to see the wonder shine in her eyes.
Even after every lover's spat, Sherlock would wrap his arms around her and swear that things would look brighter in time.
He was right. By God, he was right. He had to be, for now, she stood just steps away from him, at the alter, incandescently happy in her wedding gown.
A slow tear trailed down Sherlock's cheek.
Y/N finally reached him and there was silence in the cathedral when the music at last, had died.
"You're crying," she said.
Sherlock choked out a laugh that hurt his head. "I'm not," he replied. He tightened his lips together to ease the line of worry that had suddenly appeared on Y/N's brow.
"You're beautiful," he whispered. Closing his eyes, Sherlock shifted her veil aside. His hand trembled as he pushed it just far enough to kiss her cheek.
Though he gave her the softest of kisses, he felt a sharp stab in his heart, as arduous as the touch of his lips on her skin was brief.
He dropped her veil again and opened his eyes. "Every happiness," he said to her. His gaze steeled into her own. He hoped she wouldn't understand but she did.
Y/N nodded and her veil rustled. "Every happiness," she said back to him.
Sherlock clenched his jaw and feigned a smile for the wedding guests that stared from the pews. Then, he took Y/N's hand in his own and walked with her for three final steps.
John waited beside the priest.
Sherlock presented the groom with his bride and took his position as best man.
He was good at that, after all; standing on the outside, looking in. It's how he captured so many of his friends' most private moments in the small space of 221B.
Throughout the ceremony, the words, "every happiness" rang in Sherlock's mind.
When John and Y/N shared their first kiss as man and wife, Sherlock clapped along with the others but still, "every happiness" lingered at the tip of his tongue.
He simply couldn't manage to add the words, "I wish you..." at the start.
Things would be brighter in time, he told himself.
He knew it was a lie but for now, he clapped.
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I'm crying. I have reposted this thing like, 10 times. Last time, I swear. omg. please work. If you'd like to be tagged, let me know.
Thank you for your patience, literally everybody I'm tagging: @twisted-monster @starryeddie @the-chaotic-cow @turkisherlockian @aephereal @andthevillainshallrises @baby-bloos @cookiemumster1 @eternal-silvertongued-prince @bogginsreadings @lumosouls @spencerrxids @serenity-lattes @msseijii @classickook @starstruck-loner @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @lucywrites02 @danzalladaggers @mrs-holmes @pytharuw @antsn @kabubsmagga @newtsniffles @cemak @liv-olive-oliver @iamtrash-withrespect @asgards-princess-of-mischief
#sherlock#sherlock x reader#bbc sherlock#reader x sherlock#sherlock fanfiction#sherlock x you#sherlock fluff#sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x reader#reader x sherlock holmes#you x sherlock#benedict cumberbatch x reader#benedict cumberbatch#sherlock imagine#sherlock self insert#sherlock fic#sherlock holmes fanfiction#fanfiction#writing#sherlock holmes fluff#bbc sherlock x you#sherlock x y/n#sherlock holmes x y/n#sherlock comfort fic#y/n x sherlock#sherlock holmes x you#you x sherlock holmes#sherlock fanfic#sherlock bbc
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A taste of my new Sherlock Fic...
It wasn’t starting over, you often told yourself. Starting over implied that you were leaving everything behind. This was taking the past and letting it buoy you into the future.
London was the perfect place to try. No one knew you there, and you had always craved a life without…context.
You were in the midst of finishing a particularly frustrating chapter when a knock on your door made you jump. You wanted to ignore it as to not interrupt your flow, but it was persistent.
You rose, still half in writing mode, and as you unlocked the door and were greeted by…shoulders. The shoulders spoke.
“Pardon me, I believe this was delivered to my flat by mistake.”
Then you realized the shoulders were attached to a man holding a package.
He handed you an opened parcel from the local bookshop. The Mistaken Manuscript. A crime novel written by T.L. Merriweather. You admired the cover when–
“You are 221A. Please make sure your husband is clearer when relaying his address.”
You shuddered. “Actually that will be quite hard for him seeing as how he’s been dead for five years.”
You shut the door, eager to shake off this interaction and get back to the escape of writing when another knock came. It was him again. You noticed the shoulders were attached to a head titled in a quizzical look.
“If this isn’t your husband’s book then…it’s yours?”
“That’s right. You must be a detective.”
“Is that supposed to be a joke?”
“It was supposed to be, but no one is laughing so perhaps it isn’t.”
His head titled the other way, his curls bouncing to the other side.
“That book is quite vulgar for a woman. I’m surprised it’s something you’d enjoy reading.”
You paused. A tiny smile escaped your lips.
“I wouldn’t know. I never read it. I wrote it.”
His eyes widened as you shut the door on him again, the smile still dancing on your lips.
#henry cavill#henry william dalgliesh cavill#sherlock holmes smut#sherlock fanfic#enola holmes#enola 2#henry cavill sherlock holmes#sherlock x you#you x sherlock#sherlock fandom#henry cavill sherlock x reader#sherlock holmes enola holmes#sherlock holmes imagine#henry cavill sherlock holmes x reader#henry!sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes x reader#cavill!sherlock x reader#cavill!sherlock imagine#henry cavill fan fiction
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Sherlock & Co. fan art because we need more.
Please darling please listen to this podcast <3
#sherlock & co#sherlock and co#sherlock holmes#john watson#Down on my knees begging you please#Still trying to work out what designs I want to settle on for them#Sherlock short hair??? I heard that John may posted that on X ? Idk I’m not on there#My inbox is open for requests for them :
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Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (1)
Summary: Your marriage starts rocky.
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader
Warnings: angst, injured reader (light), mentions of getting robbed, angry Sherlock, implied innocent reader
A/N: A collection of drabbles on how you became Mrs. Sherlock Holmes.
Mrs. Sherlock Holmes masterlist
“Where is my brother? We need to talk about Enola and the upcoming event. She needs to make her debut…” you hear Mycroft downstairs. He’s usually a stoic and silent man, but you kinda like he’s silent and leaves you alone most of the time. “Where is the lady of the house? Maybe she can help my sister correct her behavior."
You hear his voice grow louder as Sherlock’s head housekeeper raises her voice. She always acts more like the lady of the house than a servant.
“Mr. Holmes,” you gracefully walk down the stairs, putting on a strained smile hurting your bruised face. “I’m afraid my husband is not at home. He’s solving another case.”
“Again?” Mycroft holds out his hands. He presses a quick kiss to your offered hand. “He should’ve left his lovely wife all alone so short after your wedding.”
“Sir, it’s fine,” you flutter your eyes shut as you try to keep the wrong words from spilling from your lips. It all became too much lately.
Sherlock's absence, and his displeasure in participating in your marriage. The head housekeeper acting like you are not Sherlock’s wife but a peasant.
“My dear, what happened?” Mycroft gasps when his eyes finally see your swollen left cheek and your split lip. “Please tell me my brother didn’t raise his hand on you. If he did, I’ll make sure he’ll regret putting his hands on you.”
“It wasn’t my husband,” you reach out for Mycroft and grab his hand. “He’s a little distant and mostly interested in solving cases but…he would never. I swear, Sir. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have gone to town on my own. But Mrs. Demeter refused to send for a carriage.”
“What happened, my dear,” Mycroft worriedly asks. He offers his arm to you, and wonders if you are lying to protect his brother. “Please do not fret. Tell me everything.”
“I left the house to get the books Sherlock wanted,” you sniff. “I paid for the books and carried the books out of the store. A woman ran into me, and I dropped the books. I tried to pick them up and then…” You choke out a sob. “There was a masked man. He ripped my bag out of my hands and hit me with it.”
“My dear!” Mycroft gasps audibly. “Did you tell my brother about this?”
“He wasn’t home,” you drop your gaze, ashamed about your weakness, and inability to stand up for yourself. “The owner of the bookstore helped me pick up the books and accompanied me to Scotland Yard but…they didn’t want to listen to me.”
“Did you tell them your name?” Mycroft is furious. “How dare they ignore a young lady in need.” He huffs as you tell him repeatedly it was your fault for not telling them your name. “Stop blaming yourself, my dear. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s my brother’s for ignoring his wife.”
Downstairs it sounds like a war is going on. Sherlock and Mycroft yell at each other. And you are afraid, Mycroft is winning.
Your betrothed falls silent after a while, and you hold your breath as you repeatedly hear your name. The last thing you wanted was to cause a rift between the brothers.
They already have their hands full with their younger sibling. Now you are causing trouble too.
You wring your hands while hearing footsteps on the staircase. You hold your breath and step away from the door. “Wife,” Sherlock grumbles as he opens the door. “Where are you?”
“I’m here,” your voice cracks. “Sir.” You add, in the hope of appeasing your husband. He steps inside your room, eyes roaming your body. “Please accept my apology.”
“What for, Precious?” He steps closer to cup your face with both hands. “Why didn’t you send for me? I would’ve come here to take care of my wife.”
“I didn’t want to disturb you, Sir. It’s nothing,” you close your eyes when his gaze gets too intense.
“You got hurt. This is not nothing,” he raises his voice but gets a grip seconds later. “No one touches my wife.” His lips press against your swollen cheek, but you only feel the warmth of his soft pillows, not the slight pain. “I will call for Lestrade. We will find the man hurting you.”
“I think he worked with the woman running into me,” you explain while Sherlock inspects your injuries. “She distracted me long enough for the man to steal my bag.”
“Why did he hurt you?”
“I-I didn’t want to give the bag to the man. You gifted it to me,” you shyly batt your eyelashes as Sherlock angrily furrows his brows.
“You are fearless, my dear,” he cracks a smile. “I am sorry about my absence. After our wedding, we should’ve…” He clears his throat. “I'll send for a doctor.”
“She’s well then?” Sherlock sizes the doctor up. “I need to know every detail. Please don’t shelter me.”
“Her cheek is swollen, but the cut on her lips is already healing. She’s mostly frightened of the person attacking her,” the doctor says. “I’d suggest not leaving her alone for the time being.”
“Sir, what are you doing?” You almost screamed when Sherlock entered your room. He softly whispered your name and picked you up in bridal style to carry you toward his bedroom.
“I’m bringing my wife to my bedroom,” he carried you out of the room. His chest swelled when you rested your head on his chest.
"Sir, I think...you have a case and..." you whimper. If he wants to finally have your wedding night, you are not sure you are ready to be with him.
“I shouldn’t have taken case after case. We didn’t have the chance to get to know each other better. I know this was an arranged bond my mother and your father agreed to. But I…I want you to know that I’ll protect you from now on.”
>> Part 2
Tags in reblog.
#sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes x you#henry cavill is sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x y/n#Mrs. Sherlock Holmes
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do you guys think they h*ld h*nds
#this is sort of technically a redraw#so you can find that and the full version under the cut:]#ik there are hearts but you’re welcome to look at this with any lenses you want#someone said to stop tagging the victorians as johnlock so#johnlock#lol!#my art#the @ is my insta#sherlock#sherlock holmes#john watson#watsholmes#acd holmes#granada holmes#sherlock holmes x john watson#fanart#fanartist
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Midnight activities
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Fem!reader
Words: 766
Tags: Dom!Sherlock Holmes, doggy-style, hard sex, dom/sub
Ethnicity and body type isn’t mentioned. I want everyone to feel inclusive.
Authors note: heyy whilst catching up on the requests, i figured i'd write this in celebration for Enola Holmes 2. I loved the movie, not as much as the first one, but seeing Sherlock again has made me feeling certain..emotions, so here's this drabble. Enjoy :)
Sherlock has you on your hands and knees, his deliciously thick body on you, weighing you down. You feel his body heat and the coarse chest hair that you love so much, on your back. Pinned down and with your legs spread apart he tells you, with your dripping pussy on display. “I’m going to fuck you, like this- hard and fast and you’re going to take it.” He brings down a hand to your ass and gives it a sharp slap, making you moan, your ass to his thick erection. As he groans into your ear. “God, you smell amazing, Little one.” He squeezes your ass. “You want it, Sir, it’s yours” you say breathlessly.
Without any other warning he slides his hand underneath your nightie that’s pulled up. He glides up and down a few times, taking in the curve of your back. He groans as his hand descend to your folds. Strumming his fingers down your center, gathering your arousal on his fingers. Circling your clit, round and round making you a delirious mess. “Stop teasing please, Sherlock… ahhh” you try saying as he smacks your apex. Making you moan loudly once more. He knew how you liked it rough. The red marks of his spanks marking you. Exciting a new wave of arousal.
“Fuck, Darling, I can see how wet you are”
You turn your head to the side to look at him. “then do something, you said you’d fuck me. But here we are” you say in a defiant tone. You watch him yank his sleeping pants down. You shivered, and elongated your arms up, pressing your face into the mattress. Getting ready for the fucking of the night. He rubs the head of his dick down and up your center. Groaning he slaps his dick against your clit. Making you try rolling your hips. He knows just how turned on you get when he rubs his cock over your pussy.
He suddenly wraps your hair into his hand and wrist making your face lift up and making your back arch. “I wanna hear, Princess.” His low deep voice sends shivers down your spine. he slams his girth into you. Gasping from the full force of his thrust, he pulls at your hair exposing your neck. His mouth sucking a mark into your skin. Knowing damn well you have work at the bakery the next morning, he keeps sucking at your skin. He continues to pump his thick girth into you. a hand glides over your ass, squeezing the flesh. His left hand wanders up to your breast. Smacking sounds fill the room as his heavy balls slap against your clit.
Coming from Sherlock a groan mixed with a moan as you squeeze his member inside of you. You feel his right hand on your clit, rubbing circles, “That’s it, Little one.” he says softly to you. “Taking your husband’s cock so well”. Your moans amplify with the hard thrusting, letting out “ahs” with each thrust. “Let me fuck you open” He keeps the pace fast and brutal making you feel full and crazy.
You are almost at the brink of your orgasm, groaning he slams harder into you. “Fuck Princess, This… fuuuuck you feel like a dream” he groans loudly. He grabs at your hips with both hands with a tight grip. You know you’ll have the bruises the next morning. And you buckle and meet his pace. Both of you fucking back into each other.
“Sherlock, Sir!,” you say his name like a prayer, like a plea. You feel the orgasm forming once more. Feeling Sherlock inside your tight heat, pulsing knowing that he’s waiting for you to cum. Sherlock hand comes back down to stroke your clit, pulling a bit but rubbing in small circles. With that small administration of his hand you come undone. You yell a garble of his name. He pulls out of you, flipping you over and shoots his cum on the column of your throat.
You stare up him in shock. He marked you, in a way he hadn’t in a while. His dragon eyes look down at you. A smirk playing at his lips, “why do you look so surprised Darling? You know you belong to me” he says as he spreads his cum all over your neck and with a delicate finger he brushes some on your lips. You automatically open your lips to suck at his finger. Maintaining eye contact you moan with his finger inside your mouth. His eyes darken, “Careful darling, you got work in the morning”
#henry cavill#sherlock holmes#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill smut#henry cavill x you#henry cavill x fem!reader#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes smut#henry cavill sherlock holmes#henry cavill sherlock holmes x reader#henry cavill sherlock holmes smut#sherlock holmes x y/n#henry cavill x y/n#sherlock holmes x fem!reader
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En Garde (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)
Synopsis: Your husband has always been protective of you, given his line of work. However, when he offers to teach you the basics of self-defence, it quickly becomes clear that his intentions may not be quite so innocent after all...
Warnings: Mild reference to bodily harm, light smutty behaviour, spoilers for the second film.
A/N: Oh, how I’ve missed Enola Holmes. I loved the books, and the films are just as great in their own way, so expect a bit of spam for the next few weeks - apologies in advance.
Masterlist
“Now, try again-”
“-Sherlock-”
“No. Come on. Focus, darling. Once more, from the beginning. Eyes forward-”
Oh, that was it.
You were going to kill your husband. Slowly… and painfully… It would be the least he deserved, torturing you as he was.
“Call me ‘darling’ one more time, husband,” you warned dangerously, “and see if I don’t shove this sword in your direction.”
Why you agreed to this in the first place was beyond you, given that the day had so far been much more satisfying for him rather than you.
After all, it had been Sherlock’s idea to help teach you the basics of self-defence - throwing a punch, dodging one, along with the fundamentals for using weapons such as a pistol, club, and now a sword (although when he thought you’d be in such a position to use one, you weren’t sure).
Given his profession and the fact that his cases often lead to unplanned consequences, it had seemed a rather sensible idea at the start. His recent run in with the infamous Inspector Grail had rattled him, helpless to protect Enola everyone involved in the case from harm.
Luckily, they had all survived, if not a little worse for wear - most of which was down to your skilled hands, having sewn, cleaned, and bandaged each and every wound they presented you with following the confrontation.
You had seen the pain etched into Sherlock’s face that night, as you had helped wipe the blood from Enola’s head where she had been struck. He may have often denied having emotions, but the brotherly love and concern was all too clear to you as he seemed to blame himself somehow for failing to protect her.
So, now, Sherlock was determined to equip you with the tools you may need should a similar situation ever arise. It made it an easy yes, to agree to his tutelage in the hopes of soothing both his and your concerns. That, and dare you even say it sounded like fun?
Well, fun for you, yes, but evidently even more fun for your husband as it turned out.
Indeed, Sherlock was certainly a ‘hands-on’ kind of teacher and it had become clear early on that his focus was not entirely on developing your skills in combat. You didn’t have to be the detective to notice how his hands kept drifting to places they didn’t belong, or that his eyes seemed to be capitalising on the opportunity to observe your form in tight trousers as you lunged about the room.
And that wasn’t the worst of it - in fact, for the past half an hour, he had been standing behind you, his chest pressed to your back, one of his hands covering yours as it gripped the hilt of the sword - or the foil, as he had informed you.
As for the other, it was rather distracting, pressed against your stomach so as to allow your husband to correct your stance… or so he claimed, as he pulled you closer once again.
“That’s it,” you huffed, trying and failing to ignore the sudden shiver that ran down your spine as he ground against you. “You are certainly having too much fun. Perhaps I should have asked Enola or Edith to be my tutor instead. At least they can be trusted to remain professional.”
He scoffed, not sounding the least bit ashamed at the accusation.
“You wound me, wife,” he murmured, his lips grazing against your cheek, “After all, was it not you who said you didn’t wish to be a ‘maiden in need of rescuing’ should anyone wish you harm?”
“You know that I am neither a maiden, nor in need of rescuing, Mr Holmes.” Turning your head, you were quick to return the favour, letting your lips graze his teasingly. His soft groan was enough of a sign that your efforts appeared to be working.
Two could play this game.
“In fact, the only person I seem to need rescuing from right now is you, and your wandering hands.”
You felt his laughter shaking through him, making it hard not to laugh yourself as he began peppering kisses to your neck.
Clearly your lesson in swordplay would have to wait; it appeared he had a different kind of physical activity planned for you both.
#enola holmes#Enola Holmes 2#sherlock#Sherlock holmes#Sherlock Holmes x Reader#sherlock holmes x you#sherlock holmes x y/n#Henry Cavill sherlock holmes#masterlist#ithebookhoarder#thesilentmage#henry sherlock#henry cavill#Henry Cavill x Reader#enola holmes imagine#enola 2
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the day/night we met ; henry cavill
PAIRING — Henry Cavill x Reader (fem)
SUMMARY — On your wedding day, your Maid of Honor prepares a special gift to which you and Henry have distinct responses.
WORDS — 1,8k
TW — nothing really just a lot of fluff, emotions (I cried a bit writing it), Henry in a suit 😈.
A/N — Hi! I'm not dead, just quit the most toxic job ever so I'm getting back here lol Here's a short but very dear fic to me that I wrote last year but never posted. I'm so happy to finally post this! This story has been in my head for two years now and it came out better than I thought.
Song insp.: Eu Me Lembro by Clarice Falcão feat. Silva
— 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
“ALRIGHT,” YOUR MAID OF HONOR smiles, carefully wiping her tears with a napkin. “After making you cry and potentially ruining some makeup,” The room laughs. “I’ve prepared something different to end this on a high note.”
This is one of the dearest moments of your life: your wedding. You’re marrying your soulmate. Your heart could burst with love and happiness whenever.
Everything’s perfect, from your dress to the lights of the venue. Henry – your newly proclaimed spouse – has an arm around you as you listen to your family and friends' speeches about you and your love.
You found it strange when your Maid of Honor wasn’t the first to speak, but it seems she has a reason for it. Immediately, you feel anxious, but in a good way.
“When these two told me they were getting married, I knew I wanted to do something special for them,” Your best friend starts. “I just didn’t know what, but I knew it had to be something remarkable, something for them to look back and have a good laugh,” She looks at the both of you with tears in her eyes, chuckling.
You also wipe tears off your eyes, smiling back at her, and Henry tightens his embrace around you.
“So I sat down with these two, separately, and started to ask a few questions,” She smiles and wiggles her eyebrows, which is an expression you know very well.
‘Oh my,’ You think. ‘What is she up to?’
“Things started to get really interesting from the start, and I decided to make a video out of it,” Your best friend winks at you. “Without further ado, enjoy it.”
With a pleasant smile, she sits down. The attention turns to the screens set around the venue.
You remember sitting with your Maid of Honor to chat about your relationship. You didn’t really understand why she wanted to do that. However, it always has been effortless talking about Henry, and you brushed it off as having something to do with the wedding.
You recall having a great time answering her questions – drinks might have been involved beforehand, but the whole process was surprisingly professional.
Your friend’s face pops up on the screen as she introduces herself. “In this little video, I wanted to talk about our lovely couple’s amazing and fun story, especially the day they met,” She explains. “Newlyweds, I love you very much, and I hope you like this little something I put together for you.”
She blows a kiss and waves. Then in fancy lettering, “A love story” is scribbled on the top-left corner of the screen, and “A story of love” on the bottom right corner. You wonder why both phrases – which convey the same thing – are on the video, but the thought quickly slips your mind when your smiling face appears on the screen.
“State your name and occupation, please,” Your friend prompts on the video, but she’s out of the shot.
You roll your eyes amusedly. “What’s this, a trial? I’m innocent, your honor!” You giggle, making everybody at the venue laugh.
You answer the question anyway, and your name also appears written on the video.
“For the purpose of… this, I’m the bride?” It sounds like a question, and you make a face, unsure of yourself.
She never explained what the video was for, in your defense.
Right after you, Henry appears. “I’m Henry, and I am the lucky groom,” He smiles brightly, looking as handsome as always.
“So, tell me, how did you meet Henry?” Your friend asks, and your smile is instant as you remember that exact day as if it was yesterday. “How did you meet Y/N?” She asks him in the next scene, and his reaction is the same.
“I was hosting a brunch,” You start, your eyes unfocused as the vivid memory plays in your mind. “And it was morning when Henry arrived.”
When he reapers, you can tell it’ll cut back and forth between you. “I was throwing a party, and she was the one that came around. I think it was three in the afternoon,” Henry replies, quite differently from you.
You scoff mockingly, looking at him by your side. He chuckles, brushing it off with a shoulder tic before you turn back to the screen.
“And I said: ‘Hi, come on in, make yourself at home,’ You know, something of the sorts,” You shrug off.
Your betrothed chuckles in the video, scratching his chin in thought. “I was the one that said hello, but she didn’t hear.”
His comment makes the venue erupt in laughter. You meet Henry’s loving gaze again and squeeze his hand, making him bring yours up to press a kiss on your knuckles.
If your shared story had different and entertaining versions until now, it’d just get better!
After being asked about first impressions of one another, he replies: “She thought I was hilarious,” He says with such confidence that is endearing.
In your turn, you laugh and cover your mouth as if what you are about to say it’s an embarrassing secret.
“Oh my god, he wouldn’t stop talking! Like a lot!” You emphasize. “And I pretended to laugh the entire time,” You say very sheepishly before throwing your head back in laughter again. “That’s terrible. I feel like I need to apologize,” You add after your fit.
“Oh, I just remembered something,” He suddenly announces, and his smile is wide as the memory toy around in his head. “Her blouse was inside out,” He chuckles, eyes focused on a spot. “She’s so adorable and such a goof, isn’t she?” He looks back at the camera.
“He loved the way I was dressed,” You giggle, visibly shivering as you physically remember the feeling of him truly looking at you for the first time.
Your friend asks another question, changing the subject slightly, but Henry shakes his head.
“Yeah, the party was great! Everybody was having a good time, but I only remember searching for her when she wasn’t near me. Trying to get another look, you know?” He says.
In turn, you scoff. “No one was dancing! I don’t remember who was taking care of the music, but it was terrible!” Your genuine response makes the room fills with laughter another time. “At least everyone had a drink in hand and ate something.”
“Oh, yes. The food was wonderful. Everything homemade,” Your partner assures with a proud nod naively.
“I bought everything off Tesco,” You rushedly confess, throwing your head back in laughter again.
Back to the present moment, you’re wiping the new tears from the corners of your eyes due to laughter. You love the good energy around the room as your guests and yourself enjoy the video your Maid of Honor made.
Now you understand both phases in the beginning, and although you and Henry have very distinct versions of the day you met, you love both of them and the feelings they bring you.
However, something changes in the next second of the video. For the first time, on a split-screen, you two appear together.
“When I saw him, I knew it (When I saw her, I knew it),” You both say simultaneously. “She (He) was the person I’d spend the rest of my life with,” You continue.
Glancing at him, you’re surprised to see he’s already looking at you. Then you exchange a knowing look. It seems like you got on the same page in this part of the video.
“And that’s how I realized that life put him (her) in my life,” You say in unison. “On that Tuesday (Thursday) of September (December),” Your responses overlap with each other, drawing amused reactions from people.
“That’s why I remember everything, of every second,” Both of you state, which is downright ironic at this point. “Ask me anything that I remember.”
“I remember,” You proudly declare with a grin but, this time, by yourself.
And so does Henry. “I remember,” He nods with a beam.
The video ends there, and the room erupts in applause, whistles, and hollered praises.
Words couldn’t describe the dazzling feelings you’re experiencing if you wanted to. You can’t be more grateful to your friend for this treat either. And, of course, the man you now get to call your husband.
The spotlight of attention returns to you as you’re exchanging the most enamored gaze ever. Henry leans in and presses his lips to your forehead, making you close your eyes. Slowly, you allow all those remarkable sensations to wash over you.
When you reopen your eyes, you smile at him before looking at your Maid of Honor. “Thank you so much for this extremely thoughtful gift. We both loved it a lot.”
Henry confirms with a head gesture.
“Words won’t do justice to how much you’re special to me. I’m just so grateful I get to share such a special and meaningful moment of my life, like this one, with you,” Your voice cracks at the end, and you smile, trying to hold your tears at bay as you can see she’s doing the same. “So I can’t thank you enough.”
As the room gets loud with another round of applause and cheers, she smiles, mouthing an “I love you too” to you. Wiping your tears carefully one more time, you chuckle.
“Although, I only have one question,” You announce, making the room pipe down. “Was my blouse really inside out?” You giggle as you look back at Henry.
Your husband starts to laugh. “Yeah,” He confirms bashfully. “Yeah, it was,” He nods as your guests join you in laughter.
“Oh, God. I can’t believe it,” You shake your head in embarrassment. “I also would like to point out that my husband clearly has a lot of experience with interviews,” You remark, addressing the room. “I feel kinda bad after saying I was pretending to laugh at his jokes when he’s all loving and caring,” You rejoin your friends and family in fun.
“I do tell bad jokes,” Henry concedes in your defense. “I love how genuine you are, and you’re loving and caring to me, too,” You nearly melt at his famous Hollywood-star smile.
The sound of ‘aww’s’ fills the room. “You see what I’m dealing with?” You joke, making everybody chuckle.
You give him a chaste but affectionate peck on the lips. Your wedding coordinator decides it’s time for the first dance to open the floor to make your guests burn some energy after the buffet.
And so, feeling the most secure and happy while pressed against your husband’s chest with his arms around you, you swing slowly. By sharing the same air, the same space, and the same feelings, you can’t think of anything better.
It all started on a Tuesday morning in September for you. But for him, it was a Thursday afternoon in December. Now, it is a Saturday evening in November that you’ll never forget.
You will remember. Everything. Of every second.
#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill x you#henry cavill imagine#henry cavill fanfiction#henry cavill rpf#henry cavill x y/n#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill headcanon#the witcher#geralt of rivia#august walker#clark kent#superman#sherlock holmes
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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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I think it genuinely cannot be overstated how important that kiss in season 2 of Good Omens was.
From a plot standpoint, that kiss showed Crowley's desperate attempts to keep Aziraphale, to reel him in and back to the Us that they had built upon.
But from just a show standpoint, they. fucking. kissed.
Obviously their love transcends physicality, and Neil has said that Good Omens is a love story even before season 2, but the outright confirmation of a widely popular queer ship ON SCREEN is just so... Unheard of.
Every fandom or show has their trademark gay couple that aren't-really-gay-but-also-kind-of-are-gay: Merlin and Arthur, Sherlock and John (very heavy offender), Dean and Castiel (okay this one was canon, but we all know what happened IMMEDIATELY afterwards), and I suppose at some point Ineffable Husbands had just been included in the same category as the rest of them.
And to have it be moved from mostly fandom and fan work fuelled to outright canon - like 'they fucking kissed on screen' canon - is just so fucking fantastic.
It's not vague, it's not lines that are blurred for the sake of being on the fence of appealing to two audiences at once, and it's not only canon because the creator just said it's canon without rhyme or reason purely for the sake of appealing to a queer audience (looking at you, Ms J. K. Rowling) - it's undeniable, blatant evidence that Crowley and Aziraphale are in love.
And yes, at the moment it's devastating, but it's also devastatingly real. And that's so important.
Especially with the release of Our Flag Means Death, I really do hope we are entering a new era in mainstream media where queer ships finally aren't treated as some sort of mysterious prize that the writers dangle in front of you like a carrot on a stick, and are just simply treated like any other ship out there.
Because if so, then queer kids will be growing up to these shows, see this new era of unabashedly queer media, and won't have to hide away their ships like some dirty little secret. They won't have to wonder if their representation is even representation. They won't have to get excited over being able to see the small chance of themselves represented in a character only to be let down so incredibly badly, because queerness is good only when it's marketable.
So sure, ending season 2 like that is fucking crazy, but you know what's crazier? Whatever the fuck Neil just did with that kiss.
#and you know what's even fucking crazier than that??? casual queerness in background characters that aren't used as punchlines#the man at the graveyard who used grindr#mutt and his nonbinary spouse#casual inclusion of genderqueer characters#oh my god i love you neil gaiman#i hope he knows the impact he's having on the new generation of queer kids#and maybe i'm talking out of my ass idk. but as someone who watched sherlock as a wee little lad the kiss was VERY important to me#good omens#ineffable husbands#ineffable husbands headcanon#anthony j crowley#good omens crowley#crowley#good omens aziraphale#aziraphale#crowley x aziraphale#aziraphale x crowley#my posts#good omens season 2#good omens 2#ineffable lovers#ineffable idiots#neil gaiman#lgbt representation#representation matters#ineffable bureaucracy#maggie x nina
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𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥
𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: When Sherlock comes home high off the thrill of case solving, he proceeds to drive Y/N insane (in the best way, of course). Though he refuses to wind down and take a break, Y/N must use her wits to CALM. HIM. DOWN.
Sleepy Sherlock + fluff! ♡
────────⊳⋆⊲────────
The drone of Mrs Hudon's vacuum thrummed below the flat. It was a lazy day on Baker Street, and Y/N could feel it's droll effects.
She stood by the kitchen table, steeping a cup of tea. It's colour drained out in ribbons as she watched with unenthused interest. Sherlock hadn’t made it home that night, so the flat was painfully quiet.
Y/N prodded at her teabag. She squeezed the last of its flavouring out with a spoon and sighed. "So this is what he means when he's bored," she muttered.
She was about to dump the tea for the sake of steeping another batch, when a familiar voice boomed from the front door.
"I AM BRILLIANT! Oh darling, I know my mind is first-rate, but there are moments where even I'm impressed by its rampant luminosity!"
Y/N gave a jolt at the sudden intrusion. The door crashed against its frame and she nearly lost grip of her teacup. The drink sloshed and burned the back of her hand.
"SHERLOCK!" she cried out. "You startled me!"
Sherlock ignored the reprimand and followed the sound of his partner's voice. His steps were quick, nearly giddy.
Y/N frowned when he creeped into the kitchen. "Three cases solved within a twelve hour span!" he hissed, excited. "I am on FIRE!"
Sherlock's hair was mussed and his eyes gleamed wildly. He sounded breathless when he spoke, as though he had raced across the city.
Y/N bit back a smile and tried to remember her annoyance. "What are you going on about?" she demanded.
Sherlock grinned, nearly buzzing. "A magnificent performance on my part! A tri-movement concerto where I cracked the cases in an eloquent sequence of acuity and guile!"
"Good day, I take it?"
Sherlock dragged his hand along the edge of the countertop until he reached Y/N. His rushed strides were clumsy as he stumbled towards her. He squeezed her shoulders and planted a fervent kiss on her cheek. "Oh, you have no idea!"
"Sherlock, maybe you should take a breather now. You've been out since yesterday. Don't you think a bit of rest is in order?"
He looked down and noticed the steaming teacup still in her hands. "No time for that," he chided. "Come hear about the investigations!" Sherlock tossed the drink to the sink, making the porcelain clatter. Before Y/N could object, he gripped her hand tight and led her to the living room.
Sherlock drew open the curtains with great zeal, his open arms casting shaded silhouettes against the room. "Let's set the scene," he said with a dark smile. He turned back to his partner and stalked around her, building up his narrative.
"A robbery, six missing persons, and a murder. All distinct at first glance, wouldn't you say?"
Y/N perched on the edge of an armchair and crossed her arms. She was amused by his dramatization but worried about his lack of rest. In the moments where Sherlock Holmes was still high off the thrill of case solving, he was nonstop.
"Yes, I suppose so. But maybe you can finish your story in the morning? A good night's rest will---"
Sherlock bent down and kissed the tip of her nose. His eyes were bright. "That can wait, dove. As I was saying, Lestrade believed the three events to be mere coincidences as well. But I soon discovered that---"
"--- that everything was interconnected? Yes Sherlock, that's very impressive."
Sherlock glanced at Y/N and quirked a brow. "I'm sensing disinterest," he noted.
Y/N sighed. She stood up and took his hands in her own. "Not at all," she assured. "I'd love to hear of your triumphs, but I'm more concerned with your wellbeing at the moment."
"I don't understand. I'm perfectly fine!"
Y/N quirked a brow. She studied the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the slight tremble in his hands. His scarf was done up in a knot, and he seemed pale.
"Take a quick look in the mirror and tell me again that you're fine."
Sherlock narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "A look at the mirror won't prove anything other than the fact that you worry too much."
"Then it won't hurt to look, now will it?"
Sherlock scoffed and glanced at the mirror hanging from the back wall. He studied his reflection in silence.
"Clever girl," he murmured, finally. "I've seen better days, haven't I?"
Y/N dipped forwards and kissed his jaw. "I would say so. You're not invincible, you know."
Sherlock sighed and pulled her against his chest. "True as that may be, there are certainly moments where I feel invincible."
Y/N felt his deft fingers trail through her hair. She leaned against him and listened to the steady beating of his heart. "Do you mean when you're out case solving?"
Sherlock pulled back until his eyes locked with hers. He tapped a finger to the tip of her nose and grinned. "Not quite. I mean to say that invincibility lies in the moments I stand by your side."
Y/N giggled. "You've gone soft from your sleepless nights," she hummed. "Let's get to bed." Before Sherlock could protest, she gripped the end of his scarf and pulled him away.
"But the sun is still shining! London won't sleep until nightfall, and I'm sure I can hold up another few hours!" His last words were muffled by a yawn that he tried and failed to suppress.
"Somehow, I'm not convinced!" Y/N laughed. "You're exhausted. Come on, I'll fetch you a pillow."
Sherlock smiled. There was no use countering her. Secretly, he didn't really mind. He felt a profound sense of comfort in Y/N's care.
He squeezed her shoulder from behind. "I'm in your hands," he whispered.
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Give Fixation a shot!
I haven't written anything in a while, so I'm just glad to have finished this!!! 😭
tagging: @twisted-monster @starryeddie @high-functioning-lokipath @the-chaotic-cow @turkisherlockian @kabubsmagga @aephereal @andthevillainshallrises @baby-bloos @cookiemumster1 @eternal-silvertongued-prince @bogginsreadings @lumosouls @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @lucywrites02 @danzalladaggers @mrs-holmes @pytharuw @msseijii @serenity-lattes @spencerrxids
#sherlock#sherlock x reader#bbc sherlock#reader x sherlock#sherlock fanfiction#sherlock x you#sherlock fluff#sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x reader#reader x sherlock holmes#you x sherlock#benedict cumberbatch x you#benedict cumberbatch x reader#benedict cumberbatch#sherlock imagine#sherlock self insert#sherlock fic#sherlock holmes fanfiction#fanfiction#writing#sherlock holmes fluff#bbc sherlock x you#sherlock x y/n#sherlock holmes x y/n#sherlock comfort fic#y/n x sherlock#sherlock holmes x you#you x sherlock holmes#sherlock fanfic#sherlock bbc
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we'll be alright
summary : in which they fight but there's no doubt that they'll end up alright.
pairing : sherlock holmes x reader
warnings : slight spoiler for enola holmes 2, ooc!sherlock, slight angst
author's note : so, hi!! i love you, thank you for sticking around, i love you!! <3
tagged : @0oolookitsme
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“sherlock?”
“enola. what are you doing here?” sherlock questioned, swaying as he tried to focus on his sister. “it’s not safe. there are scary people about”
“yes, let me know when you meet one,” enola sighed, walking towards him and standing close in case he fell over. “brother, are you quite yourself?”
“i’m fine, it was just a disagreement over a glass of wine and whose wine it was,” sherlock waved her off, looking around. “there was another disagreement that i had, not here, no. at home. it quite upset me. very much, in fact.”
“you fought with y/n?” enola asked, her eyebrows raising. she absolutely adored y/n and to hear that her brother and her sister-in-law were fighting was a shock considering they were totally smitten with each other.
“i find after wine, it’s very difficult to make your arms and legs move,” sherlock completely ignored her question, swaying dangerously. enola rushed to support, a wince escaping her as sherlock leaned on her for support. “i don’t usually imbibe but i’m not a case, you see. it’s proven rather tricky”
“cab,” enola called for a carriage, walking while supporting her brother’s weight, losing her footing every once in a while during their very short walk to the side of the road.
“hello,” both the holmes’ siblings greeted the driver, moving to sit inside.
“where are we going?” sherlock asked, looking at enola for answers.
“221 baker street,” enola replied, helping him get in the cab.
the ride to 221 baker street was filled with silence, with enola occasionally trying to ask about y/n and sherlock mindless chatter about his latest case.
the pair of siblings exited the cab, paying the driver and walked to the front door. after opening it, enola stood with sherlock in front of 221a and stopped, looking at her brother for any sort of indication that he was going to open it.
“that’s a and i’m b,” sherlock mumbled, his eyes unfocused as he first pointed at the door in front of them and then at the stairs going to the upper level.
enola sighed, rolling her eyes slightly as she moved over to the staircase. she looked at the number of stairs they’d have to climb before looking at her drunk brother.
“i didn’t know you had steps,” enola mentioned, wanting nothing more than to just sleep and wake up in a week or so.
“one should always have steps to avoid people stepping on you,” sherlock said, his words slurring together as he stood there. “that’s a tip, you should probably write that down.”
“alright,” enola started as she let go of him slightly and helped him lean against the wall, “how about i go upstairs and get y/n and she can help me get you upstairs?”
“y/n?” sherlock’s attention shifted to enola, his head leaning on the wall. “i don’t know if she’ll be here.”
“why not?” enola asked, worry growing in the pit of her stomach. had the fight really been that bad?
“she was quite upset with me,” sherlock spoke, his words stringing together to a somewhat coherent sentence. “i wouldn’t be surprised if she chose to go and stay with her sister for the time being.”
“we’re not at all done with this conversation as i’m very eager to know just how you’ve messed it up with the most loving and caring woman but we do need to get you upstairs,” enola said, her tone of voice sharp as she supported sherlock and guided him towards the first step. “all right, lift your left leg.”
“enola?” a voice questioned from the top of the stairs, making both the siblings look up. “and sherlock? what happened?”
“y/n!” enola exclaimed with relief in her voice, excited to see her sister-in-law and to get some help. “could you please help me in getting your drunk husband in the apartment?”
“y/n, love,” sherlock called out but his voice was ignored by both the ladies, leaving him with a frown on his face.
“oh my, i’m so sorry,” y/n rushed down the stairs, her dress flailing behind her as she went to sherlock’s other side and supported him. “did you get him here all by yourself?”
“had to,” enola informed, climbing up one step at a time. “he was drunk and got thrown out of an establishment.”
“god,” y/n mumbled, ignoring sherlock’s attempts to talk to her. it was obvious that she was angry with him. “i’m sorry you had to see him like this, enola.”
“it’s alright,” enola replied in her cheerful voice, the one that made y/n smile at the girl. the company of three finally reached the top of the stairs and y/n opened the door. “i can hold this incident over his head for years to come. at least, until he does something else.”
“i got him from here,” y/n assured the girl, her hands going over her husband’s shoulders as she supported him. “you go, get freshened up."
“alright,” with that enola went off in the direction of the bathroom, leaving sherlock and y/n alone.
“you should sit down, sherlock,” y/n said to her husband, leading him to the couch in the corner of the room.
“you’re right,” sherlock mumbled, tripping as he moved across the carpet. “of course you are, darling.”
sherlock sat on the couch with a grunt falling from his lips, y/n’s hand automatically going to his shoulder while the other cupped his cheek, making him look at her. when she realised what she was doing, she quickly withdrew her hands and folded them in front of her, trying to ignore the confused look on her husband's face.
“are you okay?” she questioned, keeping in mind to keep her voice low.
“yes, i’ll be up and running in no time,” sherlock assured, reaching for her hands but stopped when she made no move to take his.
“i was worried when you stormed out and didn’t come back before nightfall,” y/n admitted, her fidgeting with the numerous rings she wore, a nervous habit she had; something sherlock always picked on.
“i apologise,” sherlock whispered, burying his head in his hands, the light from the lamps making his head hurt. “for worrying you. and for other things.”
“that’s alright,” y/n replied, chuckling lightly, though it was weak and she sounded tired. “i think i'll always be worrying when it comes to you. i’ve made my peace with it.”
"you're not mad?" sherlock asked, his voice muffled.
"we'll talk later, sherlock," y/n spoke, her voice sharp as she took a deep breath. "you make it hard to be mad at you, when you're in this stage."
“i suppose i don't make it any easier," sherlock asked, a small smile on his lips though y/n couldn't see it. "being me."
"you don't," y/n looked away, choosing to look at the portraits on the wall. "but that's okay."
sherlock was about to say something else when enola's voice sounded from their bathroom.
"i better go and see what she wants," y/n spoke though she made no move to leave. a moment passed between the couple before y/n moved towards him and pushed him to lay on the couch by his shoulders. "you, rest. please."
"if i must," sherlock said, leaning into her touch and craved it when it was gone. he settled and closed his eyes. "is she to stay the night?"
"yes," y/n spoke sternly, leaving no room for argument making sherlock grumble but he didn't object; knowing it would be fruitless.
y/n moved through the living room, making her way to the bathroom and knocked twice before waiting for enola to open the door.
"a moment," enola called from the inside and half a minute later, the door was thrown open and y/n was pulled inside.
"is everything alright?" y/n questioned, looking at the teenager whose hair were down, strands falling in her face.
"could you do my hair, please?" enola questioned, a pink tint on her face. "i usually just throw them in a bun and that does the trick but i love how you do your hair and since i'm here and you're here, maybe you could do my hair?"
"of course i will!" y/n exclaimed as she pushed enola's hair out of her face. "you shouldn't ask, enola. you're like my sister. i basically raised you."
"still, i felt the need to ask," enola shrugged, handing her the brush that was on the counter and turning around.
"you shouldn't," y/n reassured her, brushing her hair softly. "i'd never refuse."
"i'm glad to hear that," enola smiled at her, looking through the mirror in front of her. "is sherlock okay?"
"he's resting," y/n mentioned, starting to braid small braids. "at least, i hope so."
"did you two have a fight?" enola questioned, no longer being able to control her curiosity.
"he told you about it?" y/n asked, mild surprise on her face but still, she smiled at the girl.
"he wasn't sure if you'd be home when we reached here," enola spoke, wincing slightly as her hair got caught in one of the many rings y/n wore, the latter apologising profusely as she untangled them. "said you might've chosen to go to your sister's house. and he also mentioned something about a disagreement at home when i first saw him outside the bar."
"oh, um, we did have a fight," y/n admitted, a small frown on her face as she recalled the harsh words that were thrown around. "but i'd never just leave."
"did he apologise?" enola questioned, admiring the braid y/n had finished. "please tell me he did."
"he did," y/n assured the younger girl. "i wouldn't be here any longer if he didn't."
"that's good," enola smiled, her fingers twirling around the braid. "you're both good then?"
"i don't think it works like that, darling," y/n spoke slowly, her eyes trained on her hair, a sad smile on her face as she refused to look at her in the mirror. "it's not just a simple 'sorry' and then everything is fine."
enola stayed silent as she thought about what y/n and finally after a couple moments, spoke. "what do you mean?"
"i mean, you can't just hurt someone and then realise that what you did was wrong. you can't apologise and expect everything to be okay, that's not how it is," y/n spoke, her voice calm and controlled but her mind was filled with the words that sherlock and her had spoken—yelled at eachother. "the person you hurt, they're not just going to forget and forgive you."
"then, what are we supposed to do?" enola spoke, her voice a whisper as she watched y/n finish off the last braid and tuck it neatly with the others. "if we apologise but they don't accept it, then what? we're supposed to keep on telling them?"
"we need to show them," y/n corrected her, turning her around to she could pin up the strands that kept getting in her eyes. "with actions, not just words. with what we do, with gestures. they need to know that we cherish them, that we're thankful that they're here, with us, they need to know that we love them and that we're sorry."
"sherlock does that?" enola asked, her eyes on her sister in law.
"he does," y/n whispered, looking down as she felt the familiar burning in her eyes and the floor became a mosaic. "he really does."
"then why are you both not okay?" enola asked, comforting y/n as she rubbed her arms.
"because i'm so worried," y/n started, her breathing heavier and her voice choked up. "i'm so worried, enola. it's starting to affect me physically. he's taking on dangerous cases everyday, the next one more dangerous than the last and he goes out without any sort of protection and i'm so scared that he's not going to come back home to me."
"he's always going to come back to you," enola spoke, her hearting hurting when she heard y/n sniffle. "he's sherlock and you're y/n. you'll always find eachother."
"last night, he didn't come home until midnight and i had stay up waiting for him because i hate it when he comes back and there's no one greeting him and he had a cut on his upper arm and i freaked out," y/n rambled, her hands clutching enola's, the latter not letting go even for a second, "and we had a small argument about him coming this late and coming home hurt when i've told him many times to take someone from scotland yard with him but it ended in a big fight and we both went to bed angry, it was the worst. in the morning, i brought it up again and he just—yelled at me and i yelled at him and he just stormed out."
"i—i don't know what to say," enola breathed out, her hands still onto y/n's. "except, let me go out there and smack some sense into him."
y/n let out a shaky laugh, letting go of enola's hand to wipe her eyes.
"letting all of that out felt good," y/n admitted, sniffling slightly, twirling enola as she looked over her hair. "i needed this, thank you, enola."
"of course, y/n," enola smiled, her eyes sparkling under the lamp in the corner of the bathroom. "thank you, for doing my hair."
"don't mention it, love," y/n waved her off, her heart feeling lighter. "the guest room is neat and clean, you should get some sleep."
"ah, yes," enola spoke, looking at herself in the mirror before smiling at y/n. "i'll see you in the morning."
"of course," y/n smiled back tiredly, her head hurting.
"good night," enola called as she walked away from the bathroom and towards the guest room, her voice drifting as the door closed.
"good night," y/n whispered, knowing that there was no way she heard her. she looked at herself in the mirror, taking note of the year stained cheeks and how anyone could tell that she had been crying. her hair was a mess, flicks restricting her view.
she sighed, before opening the faucet and washing her face, cursing at herself for not doing it earlier as it already made her head feel less heavy.
after drying her face with a cloth, she made her way to the living and spotted sherlock in the same position in which she had left him. he seemed to have fallen asleep, with how even and deep his breathing was and how he was still and peaceful. there was no furrow of his eyebrows, y/n noted as she admired him.
"sherlock?" y/n called as he leaned over him, her voice barely audible as she didn't want to startle him. "we should head to bed."
sherlock groaned as his hands covered his face, moving slightly but he made no indication of sitting up.
"sherlock, please," y/n spoke, her hand on his shoulder. "let us go to bed."
"hm?" sherlock hummed, opening his eyes a fraction before closing them.
"sit up," y/n ordered, her voice still light. sherlock pushed himself up, looking up at her with tired eyes and y/n had to resist the urge to kiss his forehead.
“come on, let’s get you in bed,” y/n spoke softly, holding onto sherlock's shoulder as he stood up. she lead him to their bedroom, his body swaying slightly at the movement, making y/n grip onto him a bit tighter.
“that sounds nice,” sherlock mumbled, his hands holding her waist as he walked into their bedroom with her support.
“it does, doesn’t it?” y/n sat him on the bed, removing his coat, tie and vest. “have some water before you fall asleep. here.”
“i’m not going to fall asleep,” sherlock huffed before drinking the water y/n from the glass on the bedside table with a small ‘thank you’, “i’m not tired.”
“sure you aren’t, love,” y/n muttered, helping him get under the covers and adjusting the pillow under his head. “do you need anything else?"
"huh?" sherlock asked, his head falling against the pillow. "no, i suppose."
"alright," y/n moved towards the dressing room to change into her night gown. "i'll be back in a minute."
y/n only got a hum from him in reply as she made her way into the small attached dressing room and changing as fast as she could into her night gown. folding the dress as neatly as she could, she opened the door to find sherlock sitting up with his back to the headboard.
"sherlock?" y/n asked, confusing evident in her voice as she made way towards him. she sat on the edge of the bed, her worries increasing as sherlock stayed silent for the better part of a minute.
"i'm sorry," sherlock spoke, his voice small as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "for yelling, for storming out, for worrying you, everything. all of it."
"it's okay, love," y/n didn't even notice the term of endearment fall from her lips. "we can talk in the morning. you need to rest."
"no, it can't wait," sherlock argued, opening his eyes and looking at her with utmost seriousness. his hands clasped hers, holding them with a firm grip. "i have only just realised how much worry i cause you."
"sher—"
"if you were out there, i don't know what i would do," sherlock continued speaking, the words falling from his lips effortlessly. "and i realise that i have been selfish, worrying my wife about my well being, coming home late and sometimes even injured."
"darling—"
"i'll work on that," sherlock nodded, not noticing y/n trying and failing to speak. "i'll talk to lestrade about getting a constable with me on dangerous cases."
"love—"
"we already went to bed angry at eachother yesterday," sherlock spoke tiredly, his eyes dropping and his grip on her hands going lax. "i didn't want you to be mad at me tonight. i love you and i'm sorry, y/n."
"i love you and i'm not mad, not anymore," y/n shook her head, smiling as she leaned over and kissed his forehead, stroking his face with her thumb. "i just worry about you, a lot."
"and from now on, i won't give you a reason to," sherlock promised, leaning into her touch.
"good," y/n dropped another kiss to his forehead, smiling when he looked up at her and leaned in to kiss her on the lips. she smiled as she met him halfway.
the kiss was messy, with y/n leaning over him and sherlock's hand supporting her. y/n's hand found the front of his shirt, pulling him even more closer while sherlock's hand circled her waist, tracing small circles on her hips as he kissed her back with fervour.
they broke apart, their breathing heavy as they smiled at eachother, hearts beating fast.
"you need to sleep, mr. holmes," y/n reminded him, pulling away from him and moving towards her side of the bed. "you're tired."
"no," sherlock denied, watching her as she got in under the cover. "maybe, yes. god, am i tired."
"told you," y/n smiled at him with satisfaction. "sleep."
sherlock watched as she leaned over her bedside table and turned off the lamp settled comfortably, shifting slightly. he waited until she was fully settled in before moving close to her.
he laid his head in the crook of her neck, his nose touching her collarbone as his breath hit the exposed part of her neck, making her shiver. her hands automatically went to his hair, running her fingers through it.
minutes passed as y/n laid in bed, staring at the ceiling and running her fingers through her husband's hair.
"sherlock?" y/n asked, her voice barely a whisper.
after hearing no answers from him, she shifted lightly to get a good look on his face and smiled as she noticed that he was fast asleep. his mouth was parted slightly and each exhale of breath made y/n shiver and get goosebumps. his grip on her was relaxed and the look on his face was so peaceful that it made y/n feel at peace.
kissing the top of head, y/n inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and sending a prayer to whatever force that made him hers.
sure, they had their disagreements, both big and small. their difference of opinion cause a rift every now and then but still, there was no doubt.
we'll be alright, she thought before falling asleep with the love of her life.
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#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock x reader#sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x you#sherlock holmes x y/n#sherlock holmes blurbs#enola holmes 2#henry!holmes x reader#henry!sherlock#henry cavill
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Hi Cheleah😌❤️
drunk sex with Sherlock(Henry) pls👀👀
hi baby! another request done, hehe. I hope you like it even with how short it is.
summary - your husband fucks you after a few drinks.
warning - smut, intoxication, swearing, creampie.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
You moan, feeling his slow but rough movements against you. Sherlock moves inside of you, whispering slurred drunken words into your ear. “So fucking tight and warm, my best darling.” He groans, gripping your hips roughly, thrusting harder and deeper. Your mind is fuzzy from the intense pleasure mixed with the alcohol. The feeling of his thick member sliding in and out of you feels excellent. Everything felt so electrifying, so raw and passionate. Your husband looks deep into your eyes, smirking as he notices your glazed-over look matches his. “My precious little darling, letting me have you even while intoxicated.” The scent of whiskey on his breath causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head and your walls to clench around his throbbing member.
Sherlock cups your cheek, instructing you to wrap your legs around him as he picks up the pace, slamming into your sweet spot deep inside. You cling to him, not daring to let go of the man you love, the man currently splitting you open over and over again. You feel shivers roll through your body, a bliss washing over you as your back arches and your juices flow out of you. Sherlock snaps, becoming feral in his drunken state, pinning you down into the mattress and pounding you into it. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream.
He buries his face into your neck, grunting when his balls tighten and his cock throbs wildly, thrusting as deep as he can before he lets go. Thick spurts of cum fill you to the brim, leaking from your full cunt. You whimper, trembling underneath him as his cum continues to shoot out of his mushroom tip. “Good girl, such a good girl.”
thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
#imyourbratzdollasks#imyourbratzdollwork#jamneuromainask#sherlock holmes fanfiction#henry cavill x y/n#sherlock holmes#henry cavill x you#sherlock holmes fandom#henry cavill x reader#sherlock holmes x reader#henry cavill#sherlock holmes fic#henry cavill x female reader#sherlock holmes fluff#henry cavill fanfiction#sherlock holmes imagine#henry cavill imagine#sherlock holmes au#henry cavill characters#sherlock holmes x you#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill fluff#henry cavill fic#henry cavill fandom#henry cavill imagines#henry cavill au#henry cavill angst#henry cavill x short!reader
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Mr. Holmes' maid (1)
Summary: You're his maid.
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Maid!Reader
Warnings: angst, power imbalance, dub-con (just in case) cuddling/sharing a bed, master-servant relationship
Mr. Holmes’ maid masterlist
A storm is brewing outside your window. Mirroring the chaos inside of you. You clutch the thin blanket you wrapped around your body tighter to shake off the cold that seems to be your only companion tonight.
How did you end up fearing that you would end up on the streets for the storm to take you away?
How could you let this happen?
How could one night be the beginning of the end?
The night started like any other night. You finished cleaning up the mess your master left behind before he disappeared for most of the night, or until morning.
The lights were all out, and you tried to find sleep in your small chamber. You were grateful that Master Holmes offered you a warm place to stay. Most maids must pay half of their wage or more for a cold and pest-infested room. You had it so much better.
“Hmm…that’s not my room,” you heard a commotion in front of your chamber. Master Holmes murmured something you couldn’t hear before he opened the door to your chamber.
Your heart was beating out of your chest. Did you do something wrong? Did you forget to clean a room, or break something?
“Why is my room so small?” He huffed and stumbled inside the chamber, kicking the door shut with his boot.
You held your breath hearing his shoes and clothes drop to the ground. This couldn’t be real. He wouldn’t enter your room without knocking.
It was unusual enough for you to live alone with your master. People would talk if they found out he entered your room in the dead of the night.
“Bed,” he grunted before you felt the bed dip. You inhaled sharply feeling his warm body press against yours. He sniffed at your hair and murmured your name. “Warm and sweet.”
“Master Holmes?” You could smell the alcohol in his breath and feared he was out of his mind. “This is not your bedroom. Shall I lend you a hand?”
“Another time,” he purred and nuzzled his face in your shoulder. “I didn’t want to sleep alone.”
Your eyes widened at his admission. He didn’t end up in your chamber by mistake. Your master was seeking your closeness.
“I tried to stay away for so long,” Sherlock brushed his nose over your cheek. “You’re too sweet to be ignored. I want to hold you.”
You stiffened when he carefully wrapped himself around your body.
“Goodnight, Master Holmes.”
“Hmm…it’s gonna be a good night now,” Sherlock sighed deeply. “That’s nice, isn’t it?”
The answer got stuck in your throat. It felt nice, indeed. But it was wrong, so wrong. If anyone found out that you forgot your place and allowed yourself to enjoy his warmth, you’d end up on the street.
“Can I kiss your cheek?” He murmured. “Is it too much to ask for, Y/N?”
Your name on his tongue was too much. You whimpered his name, forgetting about your place. “Yes…Master Holmes.”
“Good,” he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and whispered your name. He wrapped his arms tighter around your body and closed his eyes. Sherlock fell asleep only a few moments later.
You on the other side of the bed couldn’t fall asleep all night. Fear, along with a new feeling in your lower half kept you awake.
You wanted Sherlock to be this close forever, but at the same time, you feared he’d punish you for giving in to his demands so easily.
The next morning, everything was the same as before.
You made breakfast for your master, cleaned after him, and tried to focus on your chores - not how his body felt against yours.
Sherlock acted like he didn’t seek your closeness the night before. He barely looked at you, busy getting out of the house for his latest case.
“I’ll be running late tonight, maid,” he said and looked at you. “I expect the house to be clean, and a warm blanket at your chamber. It was colder than expected in your room. Make sure to have it warm when I come home.”
Sherlock left without another word. Leaving you alone with many questions and even more intrusive thoughts. Was this all a game to him? Maybe it was a test you didn’t pass last night.
Night came and you sat on your bed, wringing your hands.
You couldn’t deny your master to sleep in your room. He didn’t hurt you or inappropriately touch you.
So many days and nights you spent dreaming of becoming his bride, but this was impossible.
Sherlock Holmes lived in a different world. Yours revolved around scrubbing the floors while he solved famous cases.
Lost in thoughts you didn't hear the door open. You stared at your hands, unsure what to do now.
“Maid?” Sherlock entered your room just like the night before. He watched you sit on your bed. “It’s past bedtime.”
“I’m sorry, Sir,” you murmured and lay down on your bed. He hummed and stepped closer to watch you hide from him under the blanket.
He glanced at the warm blanket you placed on the side of your bed he claimed last night, frowning deeply. “I told you to get a warmer blanket.”
“I got it for you, Sir,” you hastily replied.
“I wanted you to fetch one for us,“ he said and unfolded the blanket to cover your body with the warm and soft fabric. “I want us to be warm.”
Your heart did somersaults at his words. Us. He said us.
“Much better,” he muttered while crawling under the covers. Again, he wrapped his larger frame around your body to hold you in his arms. “Pleasant, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Sir,” you stammered while your heart hammered in your chest. He kissed your neck and hummed against your skin.
“Did you ever spend the night with a man, Y/N?”
You shook your head, afraid to speak. The only precious thing you called your own was your innocence.
“You won’t spend the night with some other man,” Sherlock’s voice was lower when he said the next words. “You’re Sherlock Holmes’ maid, and no one can have you.”
Days passed. Weeks passed. Even months.
Sherlock came to you every night to sleep in your room. He never explained why or did more than hold you in his arms.
Maybe he was lonely and missed the human touch. Maybe there was a part of him that was obsessed with you.
You didn’t know. And you didn’t dare to ask.
He was still the master, and you the servant.
Your world was strict, and servants were expected to be subservient and deferential to their masters at all times.
There wasn’t much you could do. – Not even tell him that you enjoy his closeness and how he smells.
Mr. Holmes Maid (2)
Tags in reblog.
#sherlock holmes#sherlock holmes x maid reader#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes x you#maid reader#sherlock holmes x y/n#sherlock holmes x female reader
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Detective!Ghost : Punch me in the face!
Y/N : …punch you? 🤨
Detective!Ghost, points to his face : Yes, punch me. In the face. Didn’t you hear me?
Y/N, squints : I always hear “punch me in the face” when you’re speaking, but it’s usually subtext.
Detective!Ghost, rolls his eyes : Oh, for god’s sakes.
Detective!Ghost, smacks them hard across the face :
Y/N, gasps : 😨😵💫
Y/N, returns the punch to his face :
Detective!Ghost, stumbles a bit : Thank you. That was …that was…
Y/N, continues to punch him in the gut :
Y/N, puts Ghost in a headlock : You ought to remember, Ghost, I was a soldier! I killed people!
Detective!Ghost, struggles to break free : You were a doctor!
Y/N, grips harder : I had bad days!
#Cod#Call of duty#Call of duty incorrect quotes#Call of duty x reader#Cod Ghost#Simon Ghost Riley#Simon Riley#Cod Ghost x reader#Cod Ghost x you#Cod Ghost x oc#Cod Ghost x male reader#Cod Ghost x fem reader#Cod Ghost x gn reader#Simon Ghost Riley x reader#Simon Ghost Riley x you#Simon Riley x reader#Simon Riley x you#Original : Sherlock BBC#Cod Detective AU#My 2023 works#1k notes
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Finished
Pairing: Henry Cavill x you
Prompt:Henry & y/n invited to his moms for thanksgiving. Mom also invites his ex.His mom is super strict so everyone is supposed to have separate rooms, mostly for his ex to slip into his room but she opens the door to find you sitting on his face.
This one was kind of tough but, ended up being a super fun story to write!Hope you guys enjoy it !Thanks for your ask, hope this lives up to the expectation.
“Are we going?” you ask quietly.
“Do you want to go?” he says, cocking an eyebrow in your direction.
“I mean….. It’s your mother. We kinda have to.” he pulls you in closer letting out a low hmmm.
“Yes. but, I don’t visit her often for a reason.” he says quietly. The heft of his arm and the sheets around you calling you to relaxation.
“And what’s that reas-”
“She’s crazy.” he says bluntly. You laugh,immediately knowing he’s joking . It was very out of character for him to call anyone out of their name. Much less his own mother. You look up at him to notice he isn’t laughing, not even smiling.
“O Henry, come on! She is not crazy, I’m sure she just misses you. That’s why she calls so often.”
He caresses your face “My mother is a tiny, blonde psychopath. I love her with all my heart but, everytime I bring a woman home she gets so attached I- it’s hard to explain.” he trails off.
“Guess I’ll just have to meet her then!” you squeal sleepily into his chest before drifting away in an ocean of plans.
You packed, you brushed your teeth, and were ready early in time for the flight. Henry slept most of the way but, you were too filled with questions of if she would like you, and what he of all people meant by calling his mother an attached psychopath. The hours ticked away and you looked worriedly from the clock on your phone to Henry.
“Maybe she just forgot we were coming today?Should we call?” you ask
“Nooooo. No. She has forgotten nothing. This is what she does. Constantly trying to keep me on my toes, I guarantee you she’s up to something.”
You snort through your nose “Henry I guarantee your mother is not that malicious.”
“Have you met her yet?” he jokes flatly. Just then the car pulls up a decently clean but embarrassingly tiny red kia soul, flying like a bat out of hell.
You exhale, taking a step off of the curb and waiting for your moment of truth.
She jumps out of the car and runs to her son, jumping into his arms. He smiles for a minute holding her and you see the light of a little boy flicker in him for a moment. He pulls back at the sound of the trunk popping open and begins to load the bags into the back for the weekend.
“Mrs. Marianne I am just so excited to finally get to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you and I’m really excited to-” She cuts you off turning back to her son.
“And Hen you remember Ellen.”
That’s when you see her, a leggy blonde with a perfect smile stepping out of the car that just makes your heart drop. Ellen fucking Whitaker. Ofcourse, champion show jumping horse rider from a family of professional horse trainers and not to mention gorgeous but, most importantly Henry’s ex- fiance.
“Cool, cool ,cool ,cool” you can hear yourself muttering under your breath trying not to explode.
“Mum this is y/n! She was very excited to be invited.” he confirms, giving you some comfort that he’s on your side.
“Mmm. Well that’s darling.” she spins on her heels heading back towards the driver’s side of the car.
You follow Henry as you both hug Ellen and exchange your greetings. She seems to think his mother bringing her here is just as ridiculous as you do and while you still despise her presence that knowledge makes it vaguely reassuring that she hasn’t come to fight for his love.
“Henry, dear sit up here with me I want to hear all about LA.” he rolls his eyes, making his way to the passenger side while you and Ellen assemble yourselves in the back of the tiny car with the luggage. You flip your phone over in your lap and notice a text from Henry. “I love you.Don’t stress out. She’s just like this.” you text him back a heart emoji but, it’d be a lie to pretend your heart wasn’t still caught in your throat. Not only did his mother refuse to acknowledge you. But, she brought some random ass woman that she obviously plans for Henry to be with instead. Actually , no.Not random, which is even worse! Am I spirialing ? I feel like I’m spiraling. You had completely zoned out of the sweet family reunion happening infront of you an attempted to string some words together in your head that would help you explain how you feel to him when you finally got alone time. You entered the driveway of the estate and his mother handed the keys to the valet , excusing herself and calling Ellen to follow her inside. Being excluded from the girl’s powwow didn’t bother you as much since if gave you a chance to speak to Henry. The Butler offered to help but, he insisted on doing it himself, calling him by name. And you were momentarily reminded of the things you did love about Henry. You followed behind him as he carried things to the room. You tried to make small talk with him as you unzipped your suitcase and began pulling out your necessities for your facewash routine.
“O ummmm-” Henry looked at you as if trying to hide back from saying something. More bad information you were sure.
“You actually have the room down the hall.”he says sheepishly.
“What do you mean?” your eyes widen despite your attempts to quell your emotion. He has to be crazy. There’s no other way to explain.
“My mom doesn’t want me to share a bed in her home unless its with the woman I’ve marrried.” he says , hands up in a defensive position.
You exhale slowly repacking your things. “Sure. Ofcourse. What wouldn’t she want that.”
You knew it sounded bitter but, you couldn’t help it.
“Hey -” he grabs your arm as you head towards the door, pulling you in and kissing you .His hand coming to your cheek, fingers resting on the back of your head, giving you the comfort he couldn’t offer with words.
“Plus” he whispers into your lips “It will be fun to sneak around like kids for a few days.”You roll your eyes at him as his hands make their way to your ass. He gropes you for a bit before you escape his grasp headed to your room or Marianne created dungeon. Actually the room was quite nice. The flowers on the wall paper felt like a bit much but, the room got great sun and wasn’t to far from the bathroom . You liked that the estate had an old-timey feel of walking down the hall to use the toilet. Plus, it allowed you more excuses to be where Henry is. You unpacked your room and then sat on the bed next to your empty suitcase before exhaling,and finding the strength to get dressed for dinner.
You stepped gently down the stairs ,trying to avoid the steps that creak when your hear the door close behind you. Looking up over the landing you see Henry at the top of the stairs.
“What are you doing?”he asks flatly.
You become aware of your hunched back and your body language from testing the step with your toe.
“I- I just don’t want to go.” you confessed.
He rushes in your direction, “Sweetheart you don’t have to.”
“No I mean I want to I just ….I was so excited to meet your mother and she just-”
“Listen” he leans against the wall scratching the side of his face. “I was trying to protect you. I should have tried to explain her more but it’s- she’s just so embarrassing. If you want, we can cut it short and go home tomorrow.” he seems genuinely saddened that his mom had been so rude. You hadn’t even had the chance to tackle Ellen’s presence before you hear a fumbling downstairs and his mother calling for him. He looks at you silently giving you time to decide.
“I still want to try and win her over.” you whisper back to him. He laughs a little at your determination and offers you his arm. You walk to dinner together and his presence gives you comfort.
At dinner your seats are assigned. Shockingly your seat is not next to Henry’s but one of their family friend’s who was also visiting. You thought it a smart call on Marriane’s part. Had it just been the four of you for dinner the meal was sure to mostly be had in silence. You sat across from Henry and although he and Ellen had a few hushed moments this test actually caused you to feel more confident in your relationship. His mom was being a bitch but, when she did he’d nudge your foot under the table. This nudge eventually turned into a quiet game of footsies but, as adults your were grateful for the reminder that no matter how it seemed he was always prioritizing you. By the time dessert came you decided you wanted to try pushing the boundaries. His mother hadn’t said anything rude to you, she simply had not spoken to you at all. And if she had already decided she hated you then there wasn’t much left for you to do but, enjoy the sculpture of a man that she had created. You slipped your foot from your shoe and let your footsies progress to you rubbing him through his pants with your foot. His eyes shoot to you across the table,but he doesn’t give you away. You can feel him growing harder under your toes as he melts into his chair. His face looks so small and innocent, looking at you, trying so hard to be in control, to be good. His mother hurls a few rude words but, you are to turned on by the view across from you to care. Once dismissed from the table, the tempered dash to the bedroom is quick. His hand presses into your back as he practically pushes you up the stairs. His room was the closest to the stairs , as you walked past he grabs your arm , pulling you in.
“Heeeeey hey hey.” you whisper to him as he slips his hand up your dress. “I think your mother will notice if I’m not in my room.” he groans into you. “Shhhh. I’ll come back later” you pull back winking at him. He slowly removes his hand and you turn, switching out of the room.
You promptly switch into your best lingerie and robe while counting the minutes, listening as the sounds of the house grow softer and softer. When the coast seems clear, you softly make your way to Henry’s room. You push the door open slowly trying to mitigate the creak as much as possible.You can see his figure sitting up in the dark. You drop your robe to the ground as he closes his book. “ I thought you’d never come!” he exhales. He places his book on the nightstand and you jump into bed, straddling him. His hands reach around to cup your ass and your grab him by the wrists.
“Don’t touch.” you warn. He cocks his head to the side as if to question the change from your usual power exchange.
“Only with your tongue.” you smile, leaning in to kiss him. He smiles coyly and you move yourself up the headboard of the bed. You grab onto it as he pulls your panties to the side. He hums into you and you are doing your best to keep quiet as you grip down onto the headboard beneath. You reach your other hand down cradling the back of his head while his tongue explores further into you. Biting your bottom lip in an attempt to keep from crying out ,you pull his hair and his hand smack your ass in response.
“Fuck” you exhale into the darkness and just then you hear the door creak open.
“Oh no!” you turn around to see Ellen, and no sooner than you lock eyes, you grab the duvet pulling it over both of your bodies.Henry is confused and ends up being mostly exposed during the shuffle.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Ummm your mom told me to- I’m sorry I-” She turned , rushing out of the room; a flurry of nerves and embarrassment. The door slammed behind her and you both looked at eachother, momentarily embarrassed too. But, then you both broke into laugher. This entire trip had been absurd, this is almost just on brand. You lift your leg in an attempt to end your straddling of him , when he stops you with a hand to your lower back. Smiling while looking up at you he says
“I wasn’t finished yet.” and you melt back into him.
#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill x you#henry cavill x female reader#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill x little!reader#henry cavill x female ofc#henry cavill x pregnant reader#henrycavillau#henry cavill angst#henry cavill au#henry cavill as superman#henry cavill superman#henry cavill sherlock holmes#henry cavill sherlock x reader#henrycavillactor#faanfic#fanfic#smut#henry cavill smut#henry cavill sex#henry cavill series#henrycavillromance#henry cavill geralt#henry cavill witcher#henrycavillwife#henry cavill art
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