dear-mono

[dear-mono]

Professor Superman

A/N okay this one's a one-shot I've been working on. I'm kinda nervous because I've never written for Clark. Let me know what you think!!

Summary: Reader is a student of Clarks who gets an internship at the Daily Planet. Clark is proud but his feelings take a turn when he realizes Lois is taking her to Gotham for research. He wants to protect her at all costs.

Warnings: Cursing, attempted kidnapping, smut, oral (female receiving) praise kink, Sex P n V, Unprotected sex, Creampie.

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I stared blankly for a moment, at the door in front of me. My heart was racing as I tried to will my hand to move. I only had to ask a simple question. Yet, I can not bring myself to know on the door. If I didn’t do this. I would likely fail the assignment and the internship. But the man was so smart and intense. I was too intimidated by him. What if I could not speak and only caused myself to look like a fool? I’d surely lose the internship then. 

I took a deep breath looking down at the paper in my hand. I had to do this. This is important. I looked back at the closed office door in front of me. Tentatively, I reached up and tapped my knuckles lightly against the wood. 

“Come in,” A gentle male voice answered my knock. With a shaky breath, I forced a smile on my face and grabbed the handle opening the door. His eyes shifted from his computer as I took a step into his office. A warm smile spread across his face once he recognized me. 

“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Kent, I��ve finished my paper and I just wanted to ask if you could look over my revisions?” My voice came out quieter than I’d planned. I often had that problem when speaking to him.

“It’s no bother at all, I’ve been expecting you to drop by. Take a seat, I’d be happy to look it over.” He offered, gesturing to the chair in front of him. Professor Kent teaches a Journalism class at the university. He also works full-time for the Daily Planet paper. He’s incredibly intelligent. Each year he considers a few of his students for an internship with the newspaper. But only one of us could earn that position. I really want it. And currently, I’m one of his top candidates. 

I took a seat across from him trying to calm my nerves as I extended the paper out to him. He met my eyes. “You know, Journalism is more than just writing, and telling a captivating story. It’s about doing things that scare you, doing things that make you uncomfortable to chase down what you want to find.” He looked down at my shaky fingers as he slid the paper from my grip. 

“I understand that you’re nervous. But you have no reason to be. You continue to surprise me with just how far you’ll go with each assignment you turn in. If I were to make the final decision…” He paused looking up to make sure the door was closed, so no one would hear. “The internship would be yours,” he smiled. I blushed. 

“Thank you, Professor Kent. That means a lot.” I relaxed a bit as he leaned forward in his chair and started to read through my article. This article is my final piece. And it’s what will be submitted to the Daily Planet as my entry for the internship. I bit my lip awkwardly, trying desperately not to stare at his face as he read. His fingers tapped on the table as he looked up from the desk. 

“Y/n, This is incredible.” He smiled. My cheeks flushed staring down at my hands in my lap. 

“You don’t have to say that,” I stuttered. 

“I don’t,” He agreed, “But it’s true. I’ve only been teaching on campus for about 5 years but I’ve never had a student as dedicated as you. I’m impressed. I think Ms. Lane will be too.” I nodded, giving him a shy smile. “Are you ready to turn this in?” He asked. I nodded letting out a deep breath.

“Yeah, yes. I think so.” I said. He let out a chuckle. 

“Don’t be nervous. It’s great. I’ll take this in, first thing tomorrow.”  He gave me a gentle smile. 

“Thank you, So much. Professor Kent. I appreciate all you help!” I said as I stood to leave his office. 

“Of course,” he paused. His eyes scanned me for a moment. But I was buzzing with too much nervous energy to notice the way they lingered. “And please call me Clark, I have a feeling we’ll be working together before long.” He winked. My heart pounded in my chest and I felt my cheeks heat up.

“Thank you…Clark.” I smiled. He gave me an approving nod before I turned and left his office. 

The next week was agony.  We had two more classes with Professor….Clark, each time I stayed behind to ask if he’d heard anything. And each time he would give me a sympathetic smile and tell me to “hang in there,” just a little while longer. I should hear soon. He assured me that I was a good writer and that I shouldn’t get discouraged. But I couldn’t help it. Now it was almost 5 pm on Friday, surely if they didn’t call soon I wouldn’t know anything until Monday. 

I paced my apartment phone in hand begging it to ring. But when I checked the time at 5:30 and still, nothing. I gave up. I let out a deep sigh, setting my phone down walking to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine. I set the glass on the counter and popped the cork. I filled the glass and almost dropped the bottle. My phone was ringing. I quickly set the bottle down and ran to the living room picking up the phone. I didn’t even check the number before I answered. 

“Hello?” I answered almost out of breath.

“Hello, is this Y/n?” a female voice asked. I nodded but then remembered I was on the phone and quickly found my voice. 

“Yes, Ma’am, it is,” I answered her. She didn’t miss a beat. 

“Great, This is Lois Lane, with the Daily Planet. I understand this is a bit late on a Friday evening but do you have time to meet with me at the office tonight?” my mind raced trying to find the right words.

“Sure, I can be there in 15 minutes. If that’s alright?” I asked her. We agreed on the time and after I thanked her, the call ended.

I very quickly realized I was not in the proper attire for this meeting. I was in running shorts and a hoodie. I tore through my closet trying to find a pair of dress pants that would work. I found a simple white cotton top to pair them with and some flats and ran out the door. I fixed my messy bun in the apartment building's front doors before starting to walk. The Daily Planet’s main office was only a few blocks away.  I got it to the building just in time and made my way inside. 

At the front desk, I introduced myself and was directed up to the 4th floor for my meeting with Lois. I stepped on the elevator and pushed the button for my floor.  I was starting to shake from the nerves. When the doors opened I was met with a familiar face. Standing at a desk a few feet away Clark was standing talking to a woman with auburn hair and kind eyes. They both looked up when the elevator sounded. 

“Y/n,” He smiled. “I’m glad you could make it.” I smiled at him and the woman stood and turned to greet me. 

“Miss Y/n, I’m Lois Lane. It’s nice to meet you.” she offered a kind smile. I shook her hand and she gestured for me to sit with her at her desk. “As you’re aware you and others from Mr. Kent's journalism course at the university have been under review for an internship with the Daily Planet. I would have just called but Clark insisted for you to come into the office.” She chuckled softly. 

I looked up at Clark nervously, he squeezed my shoulder reassuring me. “Y/n,” Lois continued. “The Daily Planet would like to officially offer you the internship starting next week.” I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. 

“Thank you, Ms. Lane, I accept that offer. When do I start?” I asked, eagerly. She chuckled softly. 

“I’ll send you an email with all of the details on Monday. You should be able to start with us on Tuesday.” I nodded.  

“Thank you again,” I said. She nodded, giving me a smile. 

“Of course. We’re excited to work with you,” she stood and started to gather her things. “I apologize, I’m not trying to rush you out of here. I’ve got a date this evening I don’t want to be late for. Clark, can you walk her out?” Clark nodded waving to Lois as she already started to head toward the elevator. 

“Of course, I can, sorry for keeping you Lo, have fun tonight.”He winked. Lois rolled her eyes at him.

“Forever the gentleman,” she laughed, “ I’ll see you next week,” she said as the elevator doors closed behind her. 

“I told you we’d be working together soon!” Clark chuckled. I turned to face him but I couldn’t find the words. Without thinking I wrapped my arms around his middle hugging him. He was a bit surprised at first but he returned the hug. 

“Thank you,” I said softly. Remembering myself I pulled away quickly, my face flushed and embarrassed. “I-I’m so sorry, that was incredibly unprofessional. I-” Clark cut off my rambling. 

“It’s alright. You earned this. And you’re going to do amazing things here, I’m sure.” He squeezed my shoulder encouragingly. “Let me walk you out.” I nodded and waited while he got his jacket off of his desk chair. We rode down in the elevator together and walked out through the main lobby. “Where’d you park?” He asked, offering to walk me to my car. 

“Oh, um, I walked actually, I live close by,” I told him. Clark looked out the front doors and watched as rain was coming down outside. He frowned. 

“Could I give you a ride? Call me old school but I certainly can’t let you walk home in this rain.” 

I hesitated for a second. He looked back out at the rain and back to me, his eyes full of sincerity. 

“Uh, I mean, it’s really not far,” I argued. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. Just that my head was starting to get kindness and flirtation confused. I already embarrassed myself once with him today.

“It’s pouring rain, Y/n, it's no trouble I promise.” He countered. I gazed back outside. He was right, it had started to pour. I would be soaked just stepping out into it. Let alone walking all the way home. I looked back to Clark and nodded. 

“Okay,” I spoke softly. I watched as Clark pushed the door open and then opened up his umbrella. Of course, he was prepared. I look even more foolish now. 

“Come on,” He smiled. “There’s enough space for both of us under here.” He chuckled. He walked us out to his car and opened my door for me holding the umbrella while I got in so I wouldn’t get wet. 

It was quiet for a moment while he started the car. I had to remind myself again that just because a man is being nice doesn’t mean he’s interested. I looked over at him, his head turned back as he pulled out of the parking spot. I don’t know when I’d developed this little crush on him but it had to stop now. God, he was handsome though. His jaw was sharp, but his eyes were a soft but intense blue. His curls were dark and I found I desperately wanted to know what it felt like to drag my fingers through them. I shook my head. No, he’s my professor. He’s at least 15 years older than me. I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. He surely didn’t see me that way. And we work together now. I have to be professional.

I pushed down my thoughts and focused, directing Clark to my apartment building. He paused abruptly when I pointed out the parking lot. He crooked an eyebrow his face completely surprised. 

“No, this is it? Really?” He asked.

“Uh… yeah” I answered hesitantly. Clark let out an awkward chuckle. 

“I’m sorry, It’s just funny. I live in the building too. I’m on the 5th floor.” He said. My brows raised completely shocked. 

“I’m on 3.” I stuttered. 

“I can’t believe we’ve never run into each other.” He laughed dumbfounded. We got out of the car. Clark met me with the umbrella. We took the elevator up together. 

“Have a great evening,” He started “I’ll see you next week,” He smiled. I blushed softly. 

“You too Clark,” I said as the elevator opened to my floor. 

“Oh and if you ever need a ride to work, Just let me know,” he winked. I giggled softly and waved as the doors closed. 

I’m royally fucked. 

I started with the Daily Planet the following Tuesday. I expected that they would have me refill copy machines or make coffee or file documents in the archives. I was shocked when I was given an assignment. It wasn’t in the field. It wasn’t going to be printed. But they told me if I wanted to eventually work for the planet then seeing how I handled personal assignments was key. It was due to Lois at the end of the week. Only 4 days to do research and write the article. I sat at my desk and poured over everything I could get my hands on. It felt a little lonely. My desk was farther away from the main writers and it was a bit smaller. But it would do. Clark and sometimes a few of the others would offer me to join them for lunch during the week but I usually skipped it. This was important. If I wanted to earn respect and make myself a place around here this had to be good. 

On Friday I was once again working at my desk, typing like mad trying to finish and edit my article. 

“You don’t have to work yourself so hard. You’ve already earned your spot you know?” Clark's voice said from somewhere next to me. 

“How many of your students have been hired on at the Planet after the internship Mr Kent?” I asked. He started to protest the question. Then he let out a deep sigh leaning against my desk. 

“Two,” He answered honestly. 

“I may have the internship, but I haven’t earned my place here.I have your respect but I have to earn it with the others,” I replied. He nodded, his eyes connecting with mine.

“Can you at least break for lunch?” He pleaded. 

“I’m going to eat at my desk. I’m almost finished. And this has to be done and on Lois’ desk by 2 pm. She leaves early today.” His eyes were sad but I knew he understood.  

I finished the article. I waited nervously at my desk waiting for Lois to call me over. 

“This is good,” she said when she finally did. “You have work to do,  I want to see how your research improves when you're out on the field. But for just starting, this is great.” She added. I nodded waiting for more. I knew she wasn’t finished. 

“Next week you’ll be coming with me, I’m doing expose research in Gotham, I want you to come to observe and take notes,” she stated. I nodded again. 

“I’ll be there, Thank…”

“Lois, Gotham’s dangerous you can’t take her with you.” Clark interrupted. Lois peered up at him over my shoulder. 

“Clark,” She sighed. “All due respect. You’ve taught her all you can in the classroom. But I’m her teacher now. And the best way to learn research is out in the field hands-on.” She retorted. 

“I’ll be with Lois, I’ll be okay,” I assured him. He wasn’t having it. 

“She won’t learn anything if she gets hurt. The crime rate in Gotham has skyrocketed it isn’t worth the risk. Does Perry know about this?” He asked. Lois scoffed. 

“As a matter of fact, he does. He’s already approved it.” she told him I don’t know what came over me. If I was angry that he was trying to stop me from going when this was my chance to earn my way in. Or if I was angry he thought I was weak. 

“And, I can take care of myself! I don’t need you hovering like I’m so fragile! You may have taught me but I got myself this far, Mr. Kent. We’ll be just fine.” I snapped. Clark stared dumbfounded. His mouth hung open, he was at a loss for words. Actually, everyone was staring. 

“Shows over,” Lois spoke loudly “You can all get back to work,”  she announced. I looked back at her apologetically. 

“Lois, I..” Clark started. She quickly cut him off. 

“Clark, I have to leave, I don’t have time for this. It’s settled she’s going,” She looked back at me, her eyes softer and sympathetic. “I’m out for the day, and you’ve finished your work, If you’d like to go now your welcome, I’ll see you Monday,”  she smiled. I nodded at her giving her a nervous smile. She turned then and walked out. 

“Y/N, please think about this. I don’t want you to get…”  He started. 

“I’m going to go, as well, Mr. Kent… I’ll see you next week.” I stood and walked to my desk grabbing my things. I walked past him to the elevator without another word.

Monday morning I was in the office early. Lois and I met at the office so she could debrief me before we left. She was interviewing with billionaire Bruce Wayne. He had connections all over Gotham, she wanted intel on any possible underground organized crime. I’ll admit it certainly was intense for my first time in the field. But it would be great practice. 

The city of Gotham was not nearly as wicked as Clark made it out to be. Mr. Wayne was amicable. He didn’t want to be there but he respected us so much as we respected him. The next few days we went back. We checked out some of the sources that Bruce had given. We got closer and closer to what she was looking for. Someone was definitely covering up organized crime in Gotham.  

Late Thursday night we were headed back to the car. It was almost 9:30 way past office hours at this point. But as Lois informed me. Good stories don’t live within the time clock. We were about to drive back and head home for the evening. We were only a few blocks away. I heard Lois scream from behind me. I turned back to look and felt myself being pulled backward. Someone had ahold of my arms dragging me off the sidewalk. 

“Let me go!” I demanded. Struggling in the stranger's grip. “Lois!” I called. 

“Shut up, what the hell are you bitches doing here?” a male voice asked. I heard Lois cry for help. I continued to struggle. 

“I’m not telling you anything. Let go of me. Someone HELP.” I screamed. Unable to break loose from the man’s hold. 

“Listen bitch! I told you to…Ungh”  The man grunted he fell back suddenly my arms slipping from his grip. I looked up my eyes going wide. Superman. He’d heard our screams. 

I watched as he took care of Lois’ attacker breaking her free. He spoke softly to her. His face looked almost…stern. She looked at him her eyes deeply apologetic. I couldn't hear what was being said. He patted her shoulder giving her a soft smile after she assured him she was okay. That I did here. 

“And you, are you okay?” He was on his feet now. He landed right in front of me. My eyes met his. They looked so familiar. I nodded. 

“You… saved me. I.. I don’t know how to thank you.” I stuttered. He smiled 

“It’s what I do. I’m just thankful I made it before you were hurt. Now please get home safe.” He added. I nodded still in shock. I felt Lois squeeze my shoulder and we walked back to the car. Superman hovered close watching to make sure we made it. Once we were inside he flew off. 

“Do you… know him?” I asked Lois suddenly. She paused looking at me. 

“We’ve met before. This job can be, dangerous at times. Can you handle that?” She asked. I thought for a moment. Could I? I couldn’t get myself out of this situation. But I didn’t back down either. Finally, I nodded. 

“Yes, I can,” I answered. 

“Good, now let's get home. We both could use some rest.” 

In the office the next day I was typing notes for Lois. I was back and forth at her desk all day. At one point I paused looking over at Clark. He looked exhausted. And stressed. He looked slightly disheveled. He was aggressively tapping at the keys on his keyboard. 

I approached him slowly. 

“Hey, are you alright, you look tired I can get you some coffee if you’d like,” I offered. He shook his head not looking away from his computer. 

“I’m fine Y/n, thank you.” he dismissed me. 

“Oh.. okay, if you need anything let me know,” I added before walking away. Normally I skipped lunch but I had time that day. I walked over to ask Clark to come with me. Again he dismissed me. I felt bad for the way I had treated him last week. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay between us. I stayed late that night typing up notes for Lois. When I shut down my computer, I noticed Clark was the only one still in the office. 

“Clark,” I spoke softly “It’s 5:30  do you need help?” I asked. He shut down his computer then.

“No, I’m just heading out now. Thank you for the offer.” He mumbled. I nodded. I turned and walked to the elevator. I rode down by myself to the first floor letting Clark cool off. If he didn’t want to talk I would give him his space. I walked out through the lobby pausing just inside the doors. Shit. It was raining again. I decided to walk this morning. It wasn’t supposed to rain. I heard the elevator ding and I groaned to myself seeing Clark exit. I gnawed at my lip anxiously, Praying the rain would suddenly let up.

“Hey,” I hear Clark's voice behind me. “Need a ride?” he asked nodding toward the door. 

“Uh… yeah, I walked this morning. Didn’t bring my umbrella. It wasn’t supposed to rain today.”  I answered awkwardly.  Clark opened the door opening his umbrella and just like the first time he took me home, we walked close sharing the protection from the rain. 

The ride home was quiet it was only a few blocks away. But when Clark pulled into the parking lot I could no longer take the silence. 

“Clark. What’s wrong?” I asked. He shook his head. “Don’t, don’t brush me off, what’s bothering you?” He got out of the car, slammed his door shut, and headed inside. I got out quickly running after him the rain immediately soaking me.  “Hey, I was talking to you!” I shouted. 

“Y/n STOP!” He turned around quickly the volume of his voice causing me to shrink back a little. “You wanna know what's bothering me? You. You, putting yourself in harm's way. You, trying so hard to prove yourself that you're being reckless. You almost got hurt because you had to make a point. You, because I can’t stop fucking thinking about you! And I’ve lost sleep all week worrying about your safety.” He stepped closer we were standing in the middle of the parking lot. “Because I couldn't bear the thought of someone even touching you.” my heart was racing his face was inches from mine. I could feel his breath on my face. “I don’t wanna see any bruises on this pretty face.” My breath hitched. 

“Clark,” I whispered. He grabbed my face crashing his lips to mine. I melted against him. The rain still fell hard around us. 

“Your so damn stubborn,” He mumbled between kisses. I wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him closer. 

“I’m sorry,” I said, breathless as I chased his lips for another kiss. He let out a breathy laugh. 

“Don’t be. You’re doing amazing. I knew you would be. Just be more careful.” I nodded. He took my hand pulling me inside. He pressed the elevator button frantically. I giggled. 

“Clark that’s not gonna make it get here any faster.” He chuckled. 

“Damn elevators.” Once inside he pushed the button for his floor and backed me up against the wall. His lips were back on mine, kissing me roughly. “Wanted this for so long.” He groaned. Kissing down my neck. The elevator doors opened. He took my hand again leading me to his apartment. 

He quickly unlocked the door and I followed him inside. I bit my lip waiting for him to make a move. I felt so shy all of a sudden. I wanted this but I was nervous. Clark lifted my chin so my eyes met his. 

“Stop me. If this isn’t what you want stop me, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.” I shook my head. 

“I want you Clark,” I whispered. His lips were on mine again. Sweeter this time. More slow. He felt his hand move down my neck and over my chest softly squeezing my breast. I moaned leaning into the touch. “Clark please,” I whined. He stepped back peeling off his wet shirt. I did the same. We left a trail of wet clothes all the way to the bedroom. Clark laid me down on the bed crawling between my thighs. Kissing them softly. 

“So beautiful.” He groaned before swiping his tongue between my folds. I gasped. He circled my clit with his tongue and then back down dipping it inside me. His groan was feral. 

“Fuck.” I moaned. He worked his tongue in and out of me while I worked my hips against his face. I tangled my fingers in his curls holding him close. His nose rubbed against my clit has he fucked me with his tongue. “m’  gonna.”  I moaned as I came on his tongue. He lapped it all up before pulling away. 

“So good sweetheart.” He kissed up my body, kissing my lips and letting me taste myself. Finally he settled between legs pushing inside of me slowly. He let out a low moan. 

“ So big,” I whimpered. He brushed my hair out of my face kissing me softly. 

“Doing so good for me sweetheart. Almost all the way in. You can take it all baby.” He moaned. With one last push he was fully seated inside me. “You feel amazing baby. Taking me so well.” He cooed letting me adjust. 

“Clark please.” I whined. Begging him to move. He pulled out slowly, until just the tip was inside me and then plunged back in. I let out a loud moan. 

“Feel good sweetheart?” He asked. I nodded. 

“So good, Clark, Fuck, I moaned as he started to thrust into me at a steady pace. He grabbed my hand pinning it to the mattress. He picked up his pace. I felt the knot build in my stomach. 

“You’re getting close aren’t you baby?” he asked. I nodded. Letting out a strangled moan. 

“Please.” I begged. 

“So polite.” he groaned. He pressed his thumb to my clit as he fucked me rubbing in circles. I felt my toes curl and I came hard squeezing him as he fucked me through my orgasm. “Thats it sweetheart. Fuck. Gonna make me. Ungh.” He groaned cumming inside me. We were both breathless laying there for a moment. Clark pulled out slowly. And pulled me into him.

“You okay?” He smiled kissing my cheek. I nodded. 

“Mhmm” I mumbled dreamily. Clark got up and came back with a cloth to clean us both up. Then got back into bed holding me close. 

“Clark?” I asked softly. 

“Hmm?” he hummed. 

“Were you ever gonna tell me… or were you just gonna let me figure it out?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

“Because no one else knows what happened in Gotham Superman,”  I smirked turning in his arms. 

“How did you…?” He asked. 

“I’ve had a crush on you for a while. I’d know your eyes anywhere.” I said blushing. 

“Hmm,” he chuckled. “You have a crush on me?” He asked. 

“Shut up,” I rolled my eyes.

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[dear-mono]

HELPPP I KNEW SOMEONE WOULD SAY THIS 😭😭😭

[dear-mono]

Breakfast In Bed || Clark Kent x Reader

Based on THIS and THIS requests

Summary: Being married to a superhero was bound to have some tough times, you knew that well when you accepted Clark's marriage proposal. However, the last few months were becoming too difficult for you as he was having trouble balancing his daily life and his responsibilities as Superman. Intentional or not, he was neglecting you and you were getting tired of waking up alone every morning. But just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, Clark surprises you with breakfast in bed and a talk that reminds you why you love him so much.

Warnings: a little angst, but mostly fluff, fem!reader

English is not my first language

Word count: 1800

Notes: I don’t know why but I always have the need to write Clark like the most romantic and adorable man in the world, so enjoy! Consider this as my valentine gift to you

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You knew your relationship with Clark would be complicated from the moment you learned about his special abilities. You always knew he was far from ordinary, you just thought his greatness had more mundane roots —his kindness, his empathy, the way he cared about everyone and how he always surprised you by remembering even the smallest details, all the normal things that made you fall in love with him. You'd be lying if you said you weren't surprised to learn the truth, but it also explained a lot —the way he sometimes seemed to be able to be on two sides at the same time, his incredible strength and great sense of hearing. It made you worry about the kinds of dangers he faced every day as Superman, but it also made you love him even more. So you decided that you would stay by his side knowing full well that your relationship would be far from normal. 

Through it all, you managed to make things work. Clark was very good at keeping his identity secret to protect you. And you were great at pretending that his long absences didn't bother you, making him feel better when he was late for your anniversary dinner after a year of marriage. To be honest, it wasn't always that terrible. You did have plenty of moments of blissful intimacy, away from the outside world and the dangers it presented. And it was wonderful. You loved spending quality time with your husband, even if it was just sitting in silence working to meet some deadline for work. Just knowing he was there with you was enough to make you feel happy, loved.

The problem you had now was that he was spending less and less time at home. He came home late every night, exhausted after a long day at work —both as Clark at the Daily Planet and as Superman helping people in danger. And in the mornings you were lucky if you got to have breakfast together. He always tried to make time for you, to spend a romantic evening at a nice restaurant or curl up on the couch to watch a movie, but somehow work always got in the way. If it wasn't Perry calling him to cover an urgent story for the paper, it was a person in danger crying out for Superman. 

It was frustrating because you felt you couldn't say no. Clark would always ask your opinion before doing anything, looking at you with those beautiful blue eyes while assuring you that if you said no, he would stay where he was. But how could you say no when a child in danger cried for their hero or a tragic accident required his presence? There was no way your conscience would let you live with that decision.

You knew his work was important. Both inside and outside the newspaper, he helped people. People in vulnerable situations, people in danger, people who needed to be heard. It was truly noble of him and you admired him for his determination to make the world a better place. That was the biggest reason why you didn't say anything, but the truth was that you missed him.

You missed coming home from work and finding him waiting for you, asking you how your day had been the moment you walked through the front door. You missed going to sleep next to him at night after spending hours sharing work stories over dinner. You missed the warmth of his body wrapping around you in the cold mornings and hearing his voice raspy with sleep wishing you good morning when he still had his eyes closed. In the last few weeks you were lucky if he made it to dinner. Going to sleep alone and waking up alone in the mornings had become your routine. And you hated it.

That morning was no exception. When you opened your eyes you found the left side of the bed empty. Your arms clung tighter to Clark's pillow, inhaling his scent to make you feel less lonely. It was supposed to be his day off, but you wouldn't be surprised if Perry had called him last minute or some catastrophe had gotten him out of bed early. You had barely seen him last night. Clark had arrived late when you were already asleep and you only managed to mumble his name in the dark and hug him when he lay down next to you, and now he wasn't next to you when you woke up either. The day had barely begun and you already wanted it to end.

Letting out a long sigh, you decided it would be best to get up and do something to distract your mind. Clark wasn't there and it wasn't going to do your mental health any good to stay in bed crying all morning. So you dragged your feet lazily to the bathroom, going about your morning routine before leaving the room to prepare breakfast.

Only the moment you opened the door you were assaulted by the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You frowned in confusion, wondering if perhaps you had mistakenly left the coffee maker running all night. However, when you entered the kitchen you discovered that it was no mistake. Standing in front of the stove was Clark, flipping pancakes and cutting up some fruit while humming to himself. 

You couldn't help but smile as you watched him move. He still had his pajama pants on and his hair was a mess. You took advantage of the fact that his back was turned to you to admire him silently as a warm and fuzzy feeling spread through you. The sadness disappeared from your system as you watched him carefully stack the pancakes, taking his time to decorate them with little pieces of fruit just the way you liked. He looked adorable, bent over the counter as he arranged breakfast on a tray, ready to be taken to bed. You wanted to run over and hug him, but before you could move from the doorway Clark turned, finally sensing your presence.

"What are you doing there? You're supposed to be sleeping." he said and you could swear he sounded disappointed to see you there. "I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed."

You walked into the kitchen. Just a couple of steps and you were in front of him, wrapping your arms around his naked torso and resting your head on his chest as you hugged him. Clark reciprocated right away, planting a kiss on the top of your head as he breathed in the scent of your hair. 

"I'm sorry," you pouted, lifting your head from his chest to look at him. "We can go back to bed if you want."

Clark answered you with a kiss, his lips caressing yours gently. It was a quick kiss, but it still managed to take your breath away. 

"What's the occasion?" You asked as you broke away, stealing a strawberry from the pancakes and popping it into your mouth. It wasn't your anniversary or your birthday and it wasn't Valentine's Day, so you wondered what had prompted Clark to make such a gesture to you. 

"I wanted to apologize... I know I haven't been around much and I know it's not easy for you, even though you are too nice to tell me."

"Clark..." You wanted to intervene, but he silenced you by resting his index finger on your lips.

"I need you to know that you're important to me, more important than anything else." Clark slid his hand up to your cheek, his fingers caressing your skin gently. He gave you a warm smile, losing himself for a moment in the bright light of your eyes. "Do you remember what I told you the day I asked you to marry me? I said with these powers I could see the beauty of the universe, the flowers blooming on the other side of the planet or dying stars exploding in brilliant light thousands of miles away, and yet, the day I meet you I knew I had to be with you because for the first time in my life the only thing in the universe worth looking at was right there in front of me. That is still true. It will always be true, angel."

"Damn it, smallville!" You let out a giggle, feeling the tears building up in your eyes as you remembered that day —one of the happiest days of your life. You hated the way he always knew exactly what to say to make you feel better, it made being mad at him really hard.

Clark smiled at you, his blue eyes shining with love in them as he gently wiped away a tear that had escaped and rolled down your cheek. "You're the most important thing in my life and I'm sorry I haven't been showing it these past months. I promise you I'll be better in the future. I'll try harder to make this work, to make us work."

"I know this is hard for you too, baby." You said, letting your hands fall from his shoulders to his chest. You knew Clark wasn't neglecting you on purpose. You knew it hurt him as much as it hurt you to be away or to miss a date you had been planning for a long time. Balancing his normal life and his superhero life had always been one of his biggest challenges. 

"I know you love me and I know you care about me, you don't have to doubt that. I knew things were going to be difficult sometimes the day I said yes. I understand how important being Superman is to you, it is who you are and I love you for that too. I just... miss you sometimes, but I'm sure we're going to find a way to work this out. We always do."

"I swear if I could love you more I would explode." Clark smiled at you before taking your face in his hands again and pressing his lips together. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss, feeling that familiar warmth fill you inside. It was the comforting warmth of love, of the happiness it gave you to be in Clark's arms after so much loneliness.

That was the Clark you missed so much. The loving husband who wrapped his arms around you and kissed you until his lips were tired. The one who showered you with compliments until you were flustered. The one who didn't hesitate to show you how much he loved you with sweet words or cute details. It had been so long since you had the chance to be alone like that, sharing such an intimate moment, that you almost forgot how good it felt when Clark kissed you or how safe you felt when he put his arms around you. It was a beautiful feeling that you could only describe as the touch of true love. You never wanted to forget it, you were willing to do anything not to lose it.

"I love you too." You murmured against Clark's lips, giving him a quick peck before pulling away from him. "Now, about that breakfast..."

Clark let out a chuckle. "Go back to bed, I'll be there in a second."

[dear-mono]

HENRY CAVILL as CLARK KENT. Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (2016) Dir. Zack Snyder

[dear-mono]

Late Night

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut, gentle and romantic

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Your friendly neighbor Clark Kent comes to your door one evening, allowing for the two of you to finally grow your relationship.

Warnings: This is not proofread what so ever, gentle/sort of shy Clark, unprotected sex, oral fem receiving, p in v sex. 

a/n: Idk rn but I genuinely can't wait for David Corenswet to be Superman (Henry Cavill is so hot tho...). I’m already imagining how perfect he's gonna be as Clark Kent. As always, send me any requests you have and I hope you enjoy!

For months now, you had been quietly pining for the man who lived across the hall from me in our unassuming apartment building. His name was Clark Kent, and there was something about him that was utterly endearing. It wasn't just his chiseled jawline or the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, but the kindness he exuded, the way he always had a helping hand ready for anyone in need. 

You had become something like friends, sharing the occasional awkward small talk as we passed by with our shopping bags or recyclables. You had seen him in various stages of undress, coming back from his midnight runs, his superhero-like physique hidden under loose-fitting t-shirts and sweatpants. 

Something that had fueled your evening pleasure sessions, everytime your eyes fell closed you could remember the image of his hardened abs, his huge and muscular arms. 

On a warm summer evening, there was a knock at your door. It was Clark, the guy from across the hall. He stood there sheepishly, his hand running through his black hair. 

He wore a white shirt that was unbuttoned and messy. He held a bottle of wine in one hand. "Hey", he said. "I hope I'm not disturbing you. I was wondering if I could get a favor?"

“Sure what’s up?” you give him a small smile, your eyes fall on his exposed chest before quickly flicking back to his face. His heart rate increased as he realized that you could see through the thin fabric of his shirt the toned muscles of his chest covered in a light layer of hair.

He cleared his throat, composing himself, holding up the bottle of wine. "I, umm, I was wondering if I could borrow your corkscrew. I lost mine."

“Yeah, of course. Come on in.” you move to the side, allowing him to come in. Your mind clouding with desire as he towers over you, his cologne filling your senses. 

He steps into your apartment, the tight space meaning his body brushes against yours slightly as he passes. The contact between you both is brief, but it's enough to send a shiver down his spine as he enters.

Your cheeks flush slightly as you realize your own appearance, wearing just a button down top that is unbuttoned enough for him to see your cleavage and your underwear. You awkwardly lead him to the kitchen, arm subconsciously moving to cover your breasts as you turn around, handing him the corkscrew. 

"Uh, thanks." He says as he takes the corkscrew from you. Even with your arm draped over yourself, he can't help but notice the glimpse of exposed skin, his eyes lingering before he catches himself and averts his gaze, forcing himself to stay focused on the task at hand.

He starts to open up the bottle, the action allowing him to look away from your figure for a moment and compose himself, his hands shaking slightly as he tries to concentrate. 

Your hand reaches out, fingers brushing over his. “Oh yeah this thing is weird, you kinda have to do it a particular way.” you murmur, taking the bottle from him as you fumble with the screw. 

He bites his lip as your fingers brush over his, his stomach swirling at the touch of your hand. He watches as you take the bottle from him, his eyes fixated on your every movement as you try to open the bottle.

"Thanks," he mutters, his voice low and a bit shaky. His eyes wander down, his gaze drawn to the way your top fits, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of your cleavage. 

“Mhm,” you reply as you pull the cork out, a small splash of wine staining your collar. You bite down on your lip while setting the bottle down, fingers rubbing the fabric. His eyes widen slightly as he watches the droplet of wine slide down your collar, the stains on the fabric making it even more translucent. 

Clark swallows hard, his mind wandering to inappropriate and ungentlemanly thoughts. He clears his throat, trying to look away, but he can't help but notice the way your fingers are now rubbing at the fabric, the motion only drawing his attention further to your chest.

You glance over him, hand falling from your shirt as you give him a soft grin, noticing the way his gaze lingers. 

His gaze flicks up to meet yours, his cheeks flushed. He realizes he's been caught staring, his eyes having been fixated on the way your hand moves over the fabric of your shirt, the motion stirring something deep within him.

"I, umm..." he stutters, his words failing him as he feels his throat dry up. He swallows slowly, forcing himself to focus on something else. "Thanks, for helping me open the bottle," he manages to say.  He shifts on his feet, trying to discreetly adjust himself as he feels his jeans becoming a bit tighter.

“Of course, do you want to share the bottle? Or do you have someone waiting for you?” you move slightly closer to him. 

His heart quickens as you come closer, his mouth going dry as your proximity makes it all that much more difficult to concentrate. He glances down at the bottle sitting on the counter, his mind racing with desire and indecision.

"No," he says, his voice low and a bit huskier than usual. "There's no one waiting for me." He looks back up at you, his eyes locking with yours, his gaze intense and filled with a mixture of nervousness and something more forbidden. "I'd like to share the bottle with you."

“Perfect.” You smile, stepping closer as you reach for the cabinet behind him, your chest pressing into his ever so slightly. You open the door, reaching for two glasses ​​his breath hitches as he feels your body press against him, the sensation sending a jolt of heat through him. 

Your chest rubs against his, and he can feel the weight and softness of you against his body. The proximity is driving him mad, his mind clouded by primal desires he's trying to keep in check.

He bites his lip, his knuckles turning white as he grips the edge of the counter, trying to maintain his composure. His eyes flutter shut for a moment before he opens them again, his gaze fixed on your every move.

You step back, with the glasses in hand. “We could watch a movie?” you prompt as you pour some wine into the cups, silently enjoying the way he reacted to your touch. 

He nods, his mind still racing as he tries to calm his racing thoughts and the growing hardness in his pants. "Yeah, a movie sounds good," he mutters, his voice coming out a bit more hoarse than he'd liked.

As you pour the wine, his eyes follow your every move, the way your fingers grip the bottle, the way the liquid flows into the glasses. It's all too tantalizing for him. "What do you feel like watching?" He asks, trying to keep his voice level and casual.

“How about you choose?” you hand him a glass, taking yours in hand along with the bottle as you walk into the living room. Taking a seat down on the couch you sip on the wine, your eyes follow his every move, drinking in his muscular form. 

He tries to stay composed, forcing himself to look away and focus on the task at hand. Clark walks over to the DVD collection and scans the titles, his mind unfocused and his thoughts still lingering on you. After a moment of browsing, he picks a movie at random, inserting it into the player.

"All set." He says, returning to the couch and taking a seat beside you. You pull at the hem of your shirt, trying to prevent it from riding up too much while taking another sip of your drink. 

“Great.” you smile, sucking your lip between your teeth as you admire his side profile. He can't help but notice the way you fidget with your shirt, the action drawing his mind to places he shouldn't be going at the moment. 

He struggles to keep his eyes focused on the screen, his gaze keeping wandering over to you, admiring your features and the way the fabric clings to your body. Clark takes a long sip from his glass, the alcohol doing little to calm his racing thoughts and desires. He shifts in his seat, trying to discreetly adjust himself as his jeans grow even tighter.

“Is everything alright?” you notice his movements and set your cup on the coffee table, scooting slightly closer to him. His eyes widen slightly as you move closer, the proximity sending a fresh wave of desire through him. He swallows hard, his throat suddenly dry.

"Yeah," he responds, his voice a little hoarse. "Everything's fine, just...adjusting." He glances over at you, his gaze lingering on your figure, his eyes tracing over the curves where your shirt clings to you, the way your position inadvertently exposes more skin.

“Clark?” your knee brushes against his thigh as you scoot closer. He stiffens as your knee brushes against him, the casual touch sending a jolt through him. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his hands gripping the edge of the couch as he tries to maintain his composure.

When he hears his name, the way you say it, so soft and gentle, almost a whisper, it sends a shiver down his spine. He looks over at you, his eyes locking with yours, his gaze intense and filled with desire. "Yeah?" He manages to respond, his voice a bit shaky.

“Are you.. seeing anyone?” you chew on your cheek as you search his eyes. At your question, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty crosses his face. He holds your gaze, his eyes searching yours for any hint of insincerity.

"No," he says finally, his voice steady and sincere. "I'm not seeing anyone." He swallows, his nerves getting the better of him as he wonders where this conversation is going. He can't help but feel a flicker of hope and anxiety at the same time.

Your eyes light up as you press a hand to his thigh, “Then… well I hope i’m not misreading the situation,” you murmur, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. It's unexpected, but oh so welcome. 

His eyes widen for a brief moment, before closing as he melts into the kiss. Every cell in his body seems to come alive, the taste of your lips on his sending him into a dizzying spiral of emotions.

His hand comes up to cup your jaw, his touch gentle as he leans into the kiss, deepening it as he loses himself in the moment. His tongue brushes over your bottom lip as he presses his chest against yours, pushing your back into the plush fabric of your couch. 

Your bodies meld together, your back sinking into the cushion as he bears down on you. His tongue teases your lip, requesting entry which you give him without hesitation.

His heart races as he feels the soft give of your body against his chest, the heat and pressure of your bodies mingling together.

His hand runs over your side, his touch gentle but firm as it moves over the curves of your body, his hand sneaking under the fabric of your shirt, needing to feel your skin against his. You lean back, gasping for air as his fingers explore your body. 

He takes your gasp as an opportunity to trail his lips along your jaw, his breath hot against your skin as he nips and kisses his way down your neck.

His hand moves under your shirt, slowly, his fingertips dancing across your bare skin, mapping out each contour and dip of your body. He groans softly against your throat as he feels your warm, supple flesh under his fingers. You feel so good against him, it's almost overwhelming.

“Clark..” you gasp his name as he unbuttons your shirt swiftly. He loves the way you say his name, the sound of it coming from your lips making his own name sound like a prayer.

He unfastens the buttons of your shirt, revealing more and more of your body to his hungry eyes. He peels back the fabric, his hands roaming over your now-exposed skin, his fingers tracing over your stomach and up to your chest.

He presses his mouth to your collarbone, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin, tasting your scent, committing it to memory. “Clark..” you moan his name again, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he kisses down your chest, hands landing on your breasts. 

His name slips from your lips again, the sound like a sweet melody in his ears. He can feel the pressure of your fingers on his shoulders, the touch driving his desire even higher.

His mouth travels down your chest, his kisses feather light and seductive as he moves over your breasts. His hands follow his mouth, palms cupping your breasts as he starts to massage the soft flesh.

He moans against your skin, his touch almost reverent. His body thrums with an aching need, the desire to be closer to you nearly overwhelming as he captures your lips in another hungry kiss. He cups your breasts in his hands, his fingers kneading the supple flesh as they press into your skin. His touch is soft but firm, his hands large enough to cover them completely

Clark pulls back slightly, breaking the kiss but keeping his eyes locked with yours. His breath is ragged, his chest heaving with anticipation. He can feel your heart racing beneath his palms as he gently caresses your breasts. "Are you sure about this?" He whispers, his voice thick with desire. "I don't want to rush you." His eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

You smile up at him, placing a soft hand on his cheek. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life," you reply, your voice barely above a murmur. The sincerity in your tone sends a thrill through him, confirming that this is what you both want.

He nods, his expression serious as he leans back down to kiss you again. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate. He savors the taste of you, the feel of your body pressed against his. His hand slides up to the back of your neck, cradling it as he deepens the kiss, exploring every inch of your mouth with his tongue.

As the kiss lingers, he slowly starts to unbutton the rest of your shirt, taking his time to reveal each new inch of your skin. His eyes never leave yours, watching for any signs of discomfort or hesitation. You melt into him, your own hands sliding up to tangle in his hair as the fabric of your shirt falls away.

The moment your skin is fully exposed, the air in the room seems to crackle with tension. He leans down to press a line of soft, wet kisses along your collarbone, feeling your body shiver beneath his touch. He takes a moment to just look at you, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and desire. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

Your cheeks flush with pleasure as he says the words, his eyes devouring your exposed flesh. He takes his time, kissing and caressing every inch of your body, his hands moving in a slow, tantalizing dance that leaves you trembling with need. Each touch is a promise of what's to come, each kiss a declaration of his desire for you.

The room is filled with the sound of your mingled breaths and the soft whispers of your names on each other's lips. The anticipation is almost unbearable, but you both know that the slow burn of this moment is only making the fire between you grow hotter.

Clark finally takes one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling gently as he rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger. You arch your back, gasping at the sensation, your hands tightening in his hair. He teases and worships each peak, his tongue swirling and flicking, drawing out your moans of pleasure.

As you lay there, the warmth of his mouth on your skin, the softness of the couch beneath you, and the gentle pressure of his body above, you can't help but feel that this is exactly where you're meant to be. With each tender kiss and caress, he's claiming you, and you're willingly giving yourself to him.

The movie on the TV becomes background noise as the only thing that matters is the connection growing stronger between you both. His kisses trail down your stomach, his hands skimming over your hips to the waistband of your underwear.

He kisses the skin just above the waistband, the heat of his breath making you squirm. "I want to make this perfect for you," he murmurs, his eyes looking up at you for approval. You nod, unable to form words as your breath catches in your throat.

He takes his time, pulling down your underwear in one smooth motion, exposing your most intimate parts to his gaze. His eyes darken with desire as he looks at you, but he keeps his touches feather-light, his mouth hovering just above your skin without making contact.

Clark takes a deep breath, savoring the moment as he gazes down at your exposed body. He gently kisses the soft skin of your inner thighs, moving closer to the apex of your legs. His eyes are filled with a fiery hunger that makes your heart race even faster. He presses a soft kiss to your mound, feeling you tense up at the contact. 

Then, with a gentle caress, he parts your legs wider, his gaze never leaving yours. You can see the desire in his eyes, and it only fuels the fire burning within you. With a soft sigh, he lowers his mouth to you, his tongue tracing the seam of your folds with the lightest touch. You moan, your body trembling as he starts to explore you, taking his time to learn every curve and sensitive spot. 

Each touch is a declaration of his intention to worship you, to take things slow and savor every second of this shared intimacy. His fingers join his mouth, gently teasing and exploring, bringing you closer to the edge with every stroke. The room is filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths and soft whimpers, the only soundtrack to this passionate symphony of desire.

Clark continues his gentle exploration, his tongue circling your clit with a patience that borders on agonizing. He's not in a hurry; he wants to savor every moment of this, to make sure you feel loved and desired. His fingers slide into your wetness, curling gently as he begins to stroke you internally, matching the rhythm of his tongue. 

You can't help but whimper, your eyes squeezed shut as the sensations build within you. He's so attentive, so in tune with your body's responses that you feel like you're floating on a cloud of pure pleasure. Each kiss, each caress is a testament to the connection growing between you, and you know that this is just the beginning of a night that will change everything.

Clark's eyes never leave yours as he shifts his position, aligning his body with yours. His hand moves to guide himself, and with a gentle nod from you, he begins to press into you. His movements are slow and deliberate, his expression one of intense concentration as he tries to read your every reaction. You can feel the tip of him pushing against your entrance, the anticipation of what's to come making you squirm.

As he enters you, he whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a soothing balm to the building passion. He's so big, so thick, but he's so gentle that it's almost a surprise when he's fully sheathed inside you. You gasp, your eyes flying open, and he stills, giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation of being filled by him.

He waits, his eyes searching yours for any sign of pain or discomfort. When he sees none, he starts to move, his hips rocking in a slow, steady rhythm that makes your toes curl. Each thrust is met with a soft moan from your lips, his name slipping from your mouth like a prayer as he fills you completely.

The feeling of him inside you is unlike anything you've ever experienced. It's as if your bodies are made for this, as if every inch of him is meant to be connected to every inch of you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your hands sliding down to grip his firm ass as he moves within you.

The room seems to spin around you, the only constant is the feeling of him, the sound of your hearts beating in sync. He kisses you again, his movements becoming more urgent as the passion takes over. You can feel him thickening, growing even more inside you, and you know that he's getting closer to the edge.

You whisper for him to go faster, to give you more, and he responds eagerly, his strokes deepening and quickening. Your body responds in kind, your hips rising to meet his, the friction between you building until it's almost unbearable. You're both so close, the tension coiled tight in your stomachs, ready to snap.

And then, with one final, deep thrust, it does. You cry out, your body arching off the couch as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. He follows shortly after, his own release shaking his body as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

For a moment, you just lay there, your bodies entwined, your hearts racing. Then, with a soft sigh, he pulls back, his eyes searching yours for any signs of regret. But all he sees is pure satisfaction, a mirror to what's reflected in his own gaze. He leans down to kiss you gently, a soft promise of more to come.

[dear-mono]

Inside Your Heart

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader

Summary: After a difficult mission, August returns to you like a man possessed.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI!!, established relationship, explicit content, piv, unprotected sex, cockwarming, basically toe-curling smut.

“Good, you’re so good to me love...yes, love, yes..." August drawled against your ear, his voice a sensual caress.

You lay half-draped across his body, your hair spilling over his chest. He held you close, one strong arm wrapped under your knee, opening you to him completely so he could slide the swollen shaft of his cock inside you. Together, you moved slowly, savoring every moment of your reunion.

You could only whimper as he fucked you with excruciating patience, reaching so deep inside you that you shook with longing. Again and again he teased you. Staying deep, oh so deep. You felt amazing, but you were impatient.

He had returned from his mission and kissed you with savage need, tearing away your clothes. He’d taken you straight to bed, holding you close, keeping you lodged to his cock while he kissed and caressed you endlessly. He seemed determined to drive you mad with longing, nudging deeper inside you while kissing and whispering against your neck. His other hand cradled your body and cupped and fondled your breast, tugging at your oversensitive nipple.

“August, stop that and move, please,” you wiggled desperately but he remained moveless, rooted deep inside you, his fat dick stretching you deliciously.

“Shhh…” He licked across your neck. “I want to savor you.”

You took a quick breath, your fingers grabbing the cotton bedsheets. “Drive me mad you mean—”

Gently, he slapped your clit and you moaned and squeezed his cock tighter. “I’ll give you my load but only after I decide it’s time.”

“You’ve made me come three times already, August come on,” you tried to tempt him by squeezing your pussy walls around him but he didn’t catch the bait.

He smiled, his perfect white teeth flashing. “I have to prolong it, love. If it were possible, I would have this go on forever.” He delved out of your depths only to give a slick thrust that buried him to the hilt inside you.

You groaned, stars floating in your vision.

He devoured your lips, his tongue exploring your mouth. “Forever inside you while you squeeze and drench me with your love.”

He bent down and took a pink nipple into his mouth, his tongue circling it. His mustache chaffed you. You were red all over from his touches. You gasped when he fondled the other breast, nipping at the bud, his huge palm shaping the roundness of it.

“Now be a good girl and come for me,” he said, his hand reaching down to stroke your clit.

One, two, three gentle strokes and you shattered, your whole frame shaking with ecstasy. He kept you anchored to his cock the whole time, not thrusting, kissing your face and whispering how good it felt to be inside you, how perfectly you were squeezing his cock, how precious you were, how beautiful and loved.

“The most glorious woman in the world,“ he said huskily against the shell of your ear, “my woman, coming hard for me, my perfect little love. Feels good?” he asked, his thumb gently delving across the swollen lips of your sex that were stretched over his aching cock.

You nodded fervently, so blissful.

And then he started to move, finally giving you what you wanted.

His hips undulated, snapping repeatedly as he fucked you in earnest. He drew back, watching as he exited your depths, his length covered in your juices, then snapped back inside. He kept a wicked rhythm. Snapping fast and then slowly, giving you steady measured thrusts that made your eyes roll back in your head.

Head relaxing into the crook of his shoulder, you rocked against him. Grunting powerfully, he grabbed under both of your knees, spread them open and pistoned into you. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh and both your moans were only sounds in your bedroom. The scents of salt and sex were thick in the air.

He fucked you like a man possessed, his grunts loud and frantic, jolting your body with each pump.

Locking eyes with you, he buried himself balls deep and erupted, spurting rope after rope of cum inside you. His huge body trembled violently, desperate moans leaving him as he kissed you hungrily while rubbing your clit maniacally. Your toes curled, your eyes closing tightly and you climaxed with sobbing cries. You felt his shaft pumping, the veins throbbing as he filled you to the brim.

When the pleasure waned, he was still inside you, softening extremely slowly. Keeping you locked together, he moved your bodies to the side, his arms resting protectively around you. You winced when you felt the telltale tickle of his seed down your ass. Even with him inside you, it was always too much.

Sighing in satisfaction, August drew one hand along the pale curve of your thigh. You arched back into him, reaching for his hand. Your fingers intertwined, his big and rough hand against your small, smooth one. You played with his palm then brought his hand against your mouth, kissing each finger. He sighed your name and you smiled.

“You overdid it today,” you said, looking back at him. His hair was tousled, his lips swollen—not as much as yours, you guessed—but it was pleasing to see him roughened and flushed from your lovemaking.

He kissed you, his tongue tracing the plump fullness of your lips. “I’m sorry. I missed you.”

“Difficult mission?” You asked, your fingers weaving with his. Sometimes he returned home with the weight of the mission pressing heavily on his shoulders, making love to you like a man possessed.

“They threatened to harm you,” August began, his voice strained. “It was an empty threat, I knew it. I knew you were safe but when they threatened to hurt you, it… it broke something inside me. I lost control. I thought of nothing but finishing them off and coming to you.”

Your heart ached for him. August always appeared so hard and unbending, brutal even, but his heart was gentle and fragile.

Slowly, you turned around. His shaft slipped from you, softened now and he made a grimace, missing the feel of you. You cupped his neck and he squeezed you against him, your nipples brushing his chest. You caressed his neck then ghosted your lips over the pulse of his neck.

“That must have been terrifying, my love.” You embraced him, arms and legs wrapping around him, your fingers rubbing small circles to comfort him. “But I’m alright. I’m safe. Always will be.”

“I know…” He buried his face in your neck, smelling your rose-scented hair.

“I worry about you, too,” you mumbled, trailing your fingers over his mustache. “Every time you go out there, I fear for your safety.”

He gazed at you, his eyes misty, vulnerable. “I promise, no matter what happens, I’ll always come back to you. No mission, no enemy will keep me from you.”

“And I’ll always be here, waiting for you,” you kissed him, smiling. “We’ll face these fears together. Okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” he hummed while readjusting himself, lining up against you. In a swift move, he thrust up, his hard cock surging inside you. Pleasure reawakening, you gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

“I want to be everywhere.“ Cupping your pert round ass, he sat straight and bucked his hips up. “I want you, every single inch of you.”

You embraced him and rubbed against him. “You’re inside my heart, August. You’re everywhere.”

He kissed you, possessing you. His lips were demanding, brushing against yours, tongue claiming your taste.

This time, he gave you a fast and insatiable rhythm.

“Yes! Yes!” You blubbered as you rode him, your clit rubbing perfectly against him. He fucked you so good and you tightened around him, sweet bliss flowing through you just in time with his release. You shouted his name, not caring about the volume or your desperate moans.  

“That’s. My. Good. Girl,” he panted emphasizing each word with each pump of his seed inside you. “My anchor. My reason for everything.”

[dear-mono]

Encore

Read Boss and Bossed

Summary: Your boss, Henry Cavill, is CEO of a company that changes lives. You and he changed your life when you both finally admitted how you felt for one another. Tonight, Henry takes you to the Opera.

Pairing: Ceo!Henry Cavill x reader au

Word count: 2.3 K

A/N: I think Henry Cavill is a beautiful man, idc, idc. He is the faceclaim to my fantasies. Today. Big props to @nissaimmortal for inserting her lust in my inbox and giving advice. Feed me through reblogs, comments, and likes. Also asks are fun!

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! Employer/employee dynamic, age gap, masturbation, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, public sex acts, raw p in v. praise kink, breeding kink, squirting, creampie.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

The knock at the door sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. 

You took one last glance in the mirror, smoothing the silk of your dress before making your way to the door. 

The second you opened it, Henry was there, standing tall and incredibly handsome in his classic black tuxedo, the crisp bowtie and neatly folded pocket square adding a touch of effortless sophistication.

His dark curls, which were artfully tousled, framed his handsome face, and his strong jaw and piercing blue eyes held an allure that was both polished and rugged. 

And those impossibly beautiful eyes swept over you with an appreciation so intense that it made your breath hitch.

A slow, wicked smile curved his lips. 

"I was prepared to be impressed," he murmured, accent lilting as he stepped inside your door as if he owned the place. 

That BDE was in full effect. And rightfully earned, you knew from delicious first hand experience.

"But this?”

Henry’s hand grazed your bare arm, causing goosebumps to raise on your skin.

“This is dangerous, Little One."

You tilted your head and raised your eyebrow, letting the compliment curl around you like Henry’s scent. A chord struck in your brain and you wanted to be naughty.

"And here I thought you appreciated a little danger."

Henry’s eyes traced the curve of your neck down to the cleavage that your gown elegantly displayed. He stepped forward into your space and you craned your neck so that your lips were available.

But instead of kissing you, he looked down, reached out, and fingered the high slit of your dress, his touch barely there, but potent. 

"Oh, I do. But we have an opera benefit to attend. And if I linger here much longer…" 

His voice trailed off, the promise thick in the air, as he leaned down and pressed his lips to your pulse point, earning a quiet whimper from you. Your nipples pebbled and you wanted to drop to your knees as Henry pulled back.

With a smirk, he offered his arm, leading you to the elevator. The moment the door shut you were facing off in the enclosed space and Henry’s eyes were all over you, taking you all in, but pausing several times at the tight nipples that your gown showcased. 

You were a vision, a goddess, and he felt extremely fortunate to be in your company tonight.

His cock pounded in his pants and he licked his lips, then cleared his throat. He lifted his eyes to yours and ran his fingers around the collar of his shirt, as it suddenly became too tight.

“I want very much to ask if you are wet, but I can’t know the answer to that right now.”

“Oh.”

You lifted your hand to your neck and trailed it down your dress, stopping to circle your own nipple through the silken fabric, then continued down to the slit in your dress. You reached inside and fingered your pussy, collecting the wetness there. 

Henry’s mouth dropped slightly open to gain air and his eyes dilated as you touched yourself, looking boldly in his eyes.

As you reached the bottom floor, you moved toward him and stuck your fingers in his mouth, and he wrapped those strong lips around them and sucked them hard.

Your pussy clenched down and you realized that you played yourself while you were trying to get him caught up.

Henry pulled off with a plop, and then extended that wide wet muscle of a tongue and licked your fingers again.

You wanted to cry.

“Hmmmmmm. Delicious. You’re not wearing any panties, are you, Little One?”

Henry’s eyes were lust blown, and you had to concentrate to breathe. Luckily, the elevator doors opened to give you more air.

“No, Sir.”

Henry held you in his glare of steel as his jaw clenched, then came close and placed his hand on your bare back, made possible by the low cut of your dress. He extended his hand before you.

“After you.”

Henry was the epitome of restraint.

You walked out of the lift through the lobby to the waiting car. After climbing in behind you, enclosing you in the intimate darkness of the leather-clad interior, Henry turned to you, his gaze burning.

"Do you have any idea what you are doing to me tonight? This dress, your skin, your taste? Your incredible verve. God, you make me feel so alive." 

His voice was coffee and fire, rich and dangerously low.

“I swear that I’m going to make you feel a fraction of what you do to me. And it will practically burn the place down tonight.”

Your breath caught as he leaned in, his fingers tracing the curve of your thigh. His hand slid beneath the slit, fingers teasing, exploring, daring you to keep still. His long thick finger caressed the keyhole and the slit of you, teasing, but never quite reaching where you needed him to be. 

The city lights flickered past, but all you could focus on was Henry, the way his lips hovered near your ear, his whispered promises dark and intoxicating.

“You’re so soft, wet and hot, and you’re all that I want forever, Little One.”

You reached over and felt the steel rod in his pants and he let you, but he kept you at arms length for the entirety of the drive, your soft whimpers and moans the most beautiful prelude to the evening’s events.

By the time you arrived, your pulse was unsteady, and your skin was flushed with barely restrained desire.

Henry, cool as ever, adjusted his cufflinks as if he hadn’t just unraveled you in the backseat of his car. He stepped out first, then offered his hand, his grip firm as he helped you onto the red carpet.

He led you into the grand entrance of the opera house, his dark eyes sweeping over you once more, this time with a knowing smirk. The chandeliers cast golden light over the room, illuminating the way his gaze lingered at the plunging neckline and the scandalous slit that teased just enough to make him scowl a little with disapproval now that you were around other people.

He didn't want anyone else to see you like this, beautiful with need. But then he smiled at you, wicked, dangerous.

“You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, stepping forward, his fingers grazing the bare skin of your arm as he leaned in.

His voice was a low hum, like a perfectly played overture. 

“We should have skipped the opera altogether.”

A slow smile tugged at your lips as you met his gaze. 

“And miss the performance?”

His fingers trailed lower, brushing the delicate silk of your dress. 

“The only performance I’m interested in,” he whispered, “is the one where I have you gasping my name.”

Your pulse fluttered as he offered his arm, ever the composed gentleman despite the wicked promise he just made. He led you through the entrance, his touch possessive yet controlled, a stark contrast to the hunger you can already sense beneath the surface.

You passed acquaintances, and Henry introduced you as a consultant, a new title gained when you were let go of the company and formed your own. Your office stayed the same, right beside his, but your responsibilities and pay increased greatly.

Henry was ever the professional, and charming as he spoke, but the glances he gave you were unsettling. 

You knew something was coming.

—----

When you were finally ensconced in Henry’s private box, the velvet of the balcony seat was plush beneath you, though it was nothing compared to the warm, firm pressure of Henry’s hand on your thigh. 

The lights dimmed, and the orchestra swelled, a cascade of violins trembling with anticipation. Your breath caught as Henry’s fingers traced lazy circles just above the slit of your dress, his touch featherlight.

“This aria is breathtaking,” he stated lowly, lips dangerously close to your ear as he pulled your legs apart and settled his hand between them.

“But I can’t seem to keep my attention on the stage.”

You barely registered the soprano’s soaring notes as Henry’s hand slid higher, fingers grazing the silk at the juncture of your thigh and your hip. A low, slow burn rolled through you that had nothing to do with the grand romance playing out below.

“Henry,” you whispered, half warning, half invitation.

His lips quirked in amusement, but his fingers didn't stop until he reached the very apex of you. And all the while, he feigned that he was watching the stage.

You certain sure that what he was focused on was driving you mad.

“Shh,” his breath teased the sensitive skin of your neck as his fingers did the same to your wet and aching slit.

He found out just how wet you were as his fingers glided through your slippery pussy lips. You were on the verge of begging as he rocked his knuckle back and forth, never quite penetrating you, but making you dream dreams of him deep inside you.

“I need it.”  You rushed, gaze locked on the stage as Henry looked lovingly at you.

“Need what, Little One?” Henry asked. 

“Need you to finger me.” 

Henry tsked and he pulled his hand away, turning away from you a bit. You wanted to cry and scream and beg for him to touch you again. He watched your agony for a moment then patted your thigh and rested his hand there.

You heated up all over again.

“Good girl. We wouldn’t want to cause a crescendo before the second act.”

A shiver coursed through you as the audience below sat in rapt attention, oblivious to the far more sinful performance unfolding in the shadows of Henry’s box. The forbidden thrill of it had your pulse racing, your breathing staccato.

Henry teased you for the better part of an hour, driving you as mad as Anne Boleyn. He drove you to the peak of your fulfillment, and then snatched you away from the crown jewels time and time again.

As the opera neared a crescendo, so too did Henry’s touch, his fingers stroking your wet and aching slit, and slipping your over-sensitive clit between his knuckles. He was playing you like a piano, and it made you want to sing.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss just below your ear. 

“Tell me… is it the music? Or me?”

You turned your head, lips inches from his, eyes dark with need. 

“Both,” you admit. 

“Please put your fingers inside me,” you begged.

Henry smiled, dark and knowing. 

“Hmmmm. Let’s see if we can make this night end on a high note.”

The soprano held the final note that filled the grand hall. But nothing could compare to the symphony Henry played with your body. His digits slipped further, exploring you with slow, deliberate intent. 

His touch turned demanding, each movement calculated as he coaxed you higher, unraveling you right there in the box. Henry's long thick fingers crooked and pressed deeper inside you, reaching that bundle of nerves, and made your body hug around his hand.

Tiny stings of pleasure dotted across your skin with your goosebumps and Henry sighed. 

“Fuck you’re tight.”

His words made you topple over the edge into bliss, the risk of being discovered heightening every sensation. You barely suppressed a cry, fingers digging into Henry’s arm as your pleasure crested, wave after wave crashing through you.

He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Exquisite.”

Your breath was ragged, heart hammering against your ribs as you fought to stay composed. Henry withdrew his hand, smoothing the fabric of your dress with infuriating nonchalance. 

“We should stay for the second act,” he mused, eyes flicking to the stage as if nothing had happened. You stared at him mutely, telegraphing your need.

“Or… perhaps you’d like a more private encore? I mean, it wouldn’t do to leave a puddle of my cum on the opera house floor.”

You whimpered at the image, but you stood, legs still unsteady, and barely able to suppress the smirk tugging at your lips. 

Henry led you down the stairs and out of the opera house, and you didn’t know why you were surprised to see the car exactly where it was a little over an hour earlier. You brushed your body against his as he ushered you into the back seat.

As soon as the car started rolling, Henry’s cock was out and in his hand. Your attention was torn between his magnetic stare and the glorious organ in his fist. 

“Climb on,” he gritted, and you didn’t hesitate to move.

You hiked your skirt up and positioned your legs on either side of his thick muscular thighs, trembling as he swiped the thick, swollen mushroom head of his cock through your sopping wet cunt.

“You drive me absolutely….mad! Fucckkkk!”

Henry gasped as you slid down his dick. He leaned back as you rose and fell on his thick shaft, coating his cock with your sticky, sweet fluid. His huge hand wrapped around your throat and held you in place while he drove up inside you, thumb on his other hand collecting your wetness as he tortured your clit again.

He pulled you down for a filthy kiss, the first of the night, and then smacked your ass. When he was done ravaging your mouth, he purred in your ear.

“This is the best pussy I’ve ever had. The hottest, the tightest, the wettest.”

You threw your head back and Henry took the opportunity to mark you up. After breaking capillaries on your neck, he growled at you.

“Cum one more time for me. My balls are so fucking full of cum from watching you in that box tonight. Gonna fill you so full of my seed Little One.”

One hand grabbed your slicked back bun and pulled your head back, making you arch for him, a feast for his eyes. His fingers travelled down your collarbone to your breasts and free them from the least restrictive neckline ever. 

“But what if you get pregnant?”

He looked at you when you clamped down around him, eyes burning through your soul.

“Won’t it be amazing when you’re round and full of my child? I’ll be able to pull your sweet sustenance for my self. These beautiful breasts will be even more sensitive to my touch. Your curves even more bounteous and enticing.”

As his fingers and lips, tongue, and teeth teased your hard nipples, you picked up speed, your ass slapping against his thighs. You were breathless at his words, the epiphany of his sentiments such a turn on.

“Oh shit,” you moaned, cumming and holding on to him for dear life.

You wound your arms around Henry’s impressive shoulders as he pistoned into you until you released all over him and the fine leather seat, screamed his name, and shivered as his hot seed shot inside you.

“With this kind of performance and work satisfaction, you deserve more money for your services.” 

“I hate you,” you chuckled.

Henry kissed your forehead as you fought sleep against his broad chest, his heartbeat lulling you into slumber, and him still half hard inside you. 

You’d figure out how to get out of the car when you got to his place you thought distantly.

“Love you too, Little One.”

[dear-mono]

UGH THE CURLS IM OBSESSED.

HENRY CAVILL as Sherlock Holmes in ENOLA HOLMES (2020)

[dear-mono]

What Denial Brings

Attn: Werewolf Sherlock coming in hot!!! @mrsevans90 and I collaborated on this one. She had so many good ideas and I did my best to write it so I hope you’re proud of me friend lol. I hope you all enjoy it as well 😊

Word Count: 3,490

Pairing: Alpha!Sherlock Holmes x Omega!Female Detective Reader

Summary: You join Sherlock to work on a case, your investigation having overlapped with his.

Warnings: 18+, mentions of murder/murder investigation related things, A/B/O dynamics, scenting, bit of manhandling, rough/primal sex (p in v), knoting, marking, mating, a little angst (guilt, fear of being rejected), nursing

You sat on the train anxiously awaiting to arrive at your destination. You’d heard of the exceptional Mr. Sherlock Holmes as pretty much everyone had, but to be able to work with him had you a bit nervous. The case you were working overlapped with his so it only made sense. When he’d caught wind of your investigation, he sent after you.

You were approaching and quickly searched your bag for your suppressants. You took two, swallowing them down with a glass of water to assure your omega scent was toned down and your heat kept at bay. The last thing you wanted when working with an alpha was to unexpectedly go into heat or to send him into a rut. The suppressants had always worked wonders though thankfully.

Once stopped, you collected your bags and exited the train to look for him. You knew where to go before even truly looking, the strong scent of alpha overtaking your senses. You had to get hold of yourself, it being so strong, smelling so good, it made your head spin.

“Mr. Holmes,” you said as you approached. “Can I help you?,” he questioned. “Yes it’s… it’s me,” you said as you introduced yourself. His eyes widened in surprise as he took your waiting hand in his much larger one. “You didn’t expect me to be a lady,” you said softly. “Well your boss… Henderson, he’d only referred to you by last name,” he said. “You’re disappointed,” you said. “No! No, not at all. Just surprised. Let me get those bags for you,” he said as he took them from your hands. You smiled softly at him as he led you to the awaiting carriage. Ever the gentleman, he loaded your bags and helped you up onto the seat.

What you didn’t know is he was in fact, slowly losing his mind with you sitting there beside him. He could tell you used suppressants but you smelled absolutely perfect, like honeysuckles on a spring day. He wanted to pull you close and bury his head in your neck, breathe you in, taste you to… to… No. he was being ridiculous. He was a logical man and this was completely illogical. You couldn’t be… but still.

He couldn’t help but smile softly as he took in your side profile. So beautiful and sweet. He turned forward and reminding himself you two had a job to do. He was too smart to get wrapped up in his instincts. He’d been doing fine all these years and wasn’t going to let his biology get in the way of what needed to be done.

“I hope this room is to your liking as it’s yours as long as you’re here,” he told you as he carried your bags in and sat them down. “It’s just fine, Mr. Holmes, thank you,” you told him. “No need for such formalities, darling, seeing we’ll be working together. You can call me Sherlock, if you like,” he told you. “Sherlock,” you replied with a smile. He found himself smiling softly again. “Would you like some tea? Then we can compare notes on this case. Hopefully get this madman off the streets,” he said. “Sounds lovely,” you replied as you grabbed your briefcase and followed him to his study.

He poured your tea and offered you some biscuits as well. You sat sipping it carefully while nibbling at the biscuits. “So this is what I’ve found,” he said as he sat at his desk. You came to his side, standing over the notes he’d taken quickly reading them over. “Yes, I have very similar findings,” you told him before going after your notes. “See this is the exact same. It has to be him, yes?,” you asked. “I would say so,” he agreed.

You moved to sit at the chair in front of his desk then reached for another set of notes to compare. As you did, you and Sherlock’s fingers brushed against one another’s. At his touch you felt your heart race. “Sorry,” you said quietly. “No harm done”, he breathed, though his heart hammered in his chest at a simple touch. A simple touch that made him wish for so much more. “Stupid,” he mumbled to himself. “I’m sorry?,” you asked. “Nothing, darling,” he replied.

The next day there was another body so the two of you went to investigate. When you arrived, people already expected Sherlock. He was met with very little resistance, but they were confused as to why you were there. “She’s working the case with me,” he’d told an officer. “Really? A woman?,” he laughed. Sherlock gave him a stern look and he flinched. “Come darling. Pay no mind to this ignorance,” he said. You followed behind, feeling giddy at the officer’s reaction and Sherlock’s words.

The body had already been taken so the two of you would go to the coroner’s office afterwards but you wanted to search for clues here in the mean time. Sherlock was on one side of the room and you the other. You scoured every inch but found nothing. When you turned you were met with Sherlock’s big blue eyes. “Find something?,” you asked. “No, nothing,” he replied. “Let’s exchange sides just to be certain neither of us have missed anything,” you suggested. “Alright,” he agreed.

When you went to his side, not two feet from where he had been standing was a bloody handprint. “Um… Sherlock?,” you said hesitantly. “Yes?,” he replied. “Did you not notice this here?,” you questioned. He came to your side and looked as you pointed. “I- I suppose I didn’t,” he replied. A light blush crept up his cheeks, which you found quite cute. You giggled lightly. “No worries Sherlock. Did they find a murder weapon?,” you asked. “They did not,” he replied. “Y- you don’t think this person killed our victim with their bare hands? I know the others had extensive injuries and a weapon wasn’t found either,” you shuddered. “That would be… something,” he pondered.

When you went to the morgue Sherlock asked if you’d like to stay outside. “What do you think?,” you asked him. You had never actually seen a dead body before, just read the reports, which were quite graphic in theirselves. “It would make me feel better if you waited darling. They have been really bad. If it was something milder I think it would be fine, but I feel this would disturb you deeply. It’s completely your choice, though,” he said. “I’ll wait for you,” you replied. He nodded before heading in.

The next month the two of you worked, things going about the same. You two were spending a lot of time together and you grew to know more about one another as time went on, but you couldn’t help to feel the longer you stayed the more distracted Sherlock seemed. He was constantly missing clues, and you’d catch him staring at you more often times than not when the two of you were supposed to be taking notes to compare later, when he was supposed to be looking for clues, or even when you had downtime in his home.

“Sherlock is me being here actually helpful?,” you asked him one evening. “Of course. Whatever do you mean darling?,” he asked confusedly. “I don’t know. We don’t seem to be making much progress,” you said, not wanting to bring up the feeling you were distracting him. “These things just take time. It’s difficult when there’s not much to go by. You have been great though darling, truly,” he assured you with a light touch of his hand over yours. There your heart went again. He let it linger for a moment before moving his away. “Alright. What next’s on the agenda then?,” you asked. “I thought tomorrow we’d go to speak with some of the victim’s known associates. One place isn’t far from here so I figured if you were up to it we could walk over,” he said. “Sure,” you replied.

The next morning you awoke, took your morning dose of suppressants, dressed and made your way to the kitchen. Sherlock wasn’t there yet so you made the two of you some breakfast. When you were setting the table Sherlock arrived. “Good morning darling. You’ve made breakfast?,” he questioned. “I have. You hungry?,” you asked. “Yes, thank you,” he said politely as he pulled your chair out for you. You hovered above it lightly as he pushed it in for you. “You sleep well darling?,” he asked as you two ate. “I suppose, and you?,” you asked. “Not really. This case…,” he trailed off. “I know what you mean,” you told him. “Hopefully we’ll get some answers today,” he replied.

After breakfast you began your walk. Sherlock’s “not far,” wasn’t particularly your definition of not far, but you did your best to keep up. “You coming darling?,” he asked. “Yes. My legs are shorter than yours, you know?,” you said, making him laugh. “Sorry,” he said as he slowed down. The cool breeze flowed, tousling the loose hairs that framed your face. Sherlock watched in rapture of your beauty, sighing deeply at the sight and smell of you. With each passing day it was becoming more and more difficult to focus on the work. You were just so perfect in every way and so beautiful. Maybe when the case was over perhaps he could court you properly….

The thought left him as soon as you arrived to your destination. You were brought in and asked a few questions which ended up with useful information. All the victims were associated with one particular alpha which was just the lead you needed. The two of you headed back towards 221b Baker Street to get the carriage and ride into town. The both of you elated for finally catching a break. You walked happily until you were nearly halfway there and the bottom fell out of the sky. “Oh,” you shouted as it poured. “Come on,” Sherlock said as he grabbed your hand.

The two of you ran through the rain, trying to get back as quickly as you could but really it was no use, you both were drenched. When you entered Sherlock lead you into the study. When you looked at each other at first you burst into laughter, but then something in the air shifted. You could smell his strong scent radiating off of him, along with something unfamiliar, something potent and earthy you hadn’t smelled on him before. At the same time it seemed as if your wet skin magnified your scent tenfold. Sherlock’s nostrils flared as it overtook his senses.

You realized it was getting near time for your evening doze of suppressants but it was too late. Your flesh set aflame, cramps twisting your stomach as slick began pooling between your legs. That’s when you realized the unfamiliar smell had indicated that Sherlock gone into rut. You’d been near other alphas before, and nearing your time for medication, but none of them had brought on your heat, even at or near their rut. “Mmm,” you whined as you clutched your abdomen. You moved to leave when Sherlock grabbed you by your arms. “Mine,” he growled.

As soon as he said it, you knew it was true. Every bit of you wanted to submit to him, have him touch you, have him take you. “Yours,” you whispered. He crashed his lips into yours in a bruising kiss, devouring you, before quickly ripping your dress to shreds. Every semblance of the gentle, refined man you’d come to know was gone, giving way to the beast inside of him. He swiped across his desk, sending papers flying everywhere before he threw you up onto it. His close were gone within mere seconds and when he stood bare before you, you trembled. You knew later you’d be incredibly sore but still you wanted him.

He slammed into you in one swift movement making you cry out, but that didn’t deter him. He commenced to thrust into you wildly, teeth bared as he grunted above you. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you my little omega, hmm? I haven’t been able to think straight from the moment we met,” he admitted. All you could do was moan feebly under his brutal thrusts. Deep down you knew this explained everything but you couldn’t think about that now, not with the way he was taking you.

His fingertips dug into your hips hard enough to bruise as he pounded into you. The sound of his grunts, your increasingly loud moans, and the sound of your wet pussy squelching against him filled the room. The sinful symphony was building your arousal steadfastly. “Sherlock,” you keened as you came. “Yes, yes. Good girl. Another,” he told you. You released more slick at his words, your body wanting to give him exactly what he wanted. “You feel so good darling. Tight little pussy of yours. You’re taking your alpha so well,” he groaned. He rubbed your clit with his thumb furiously, sending you into another orgasm.

He snatched you up off the desk and put you on all fours onto the floor. He didn’t even have to ask before you began to present to him. He groaned at the sight before kneeling behind you and slamming back into you. Before it was over he had you laid flat on the floor as he straddled your ass, arms wrapped tightly around your chest, with his laid flat to your back. You felt so overpowered, so overcome by him, and you were loving ever second of it. His pace never faltered, quick snaps of his hips crashing into your backside as he made you come again and again.

He started licking and nipping at your neck. You shuddered at the feeling. “Do you want it Omega? Want everyone to know you’re mine? Want me to give you my knot? Fill you with my pups?,” he asked. “Yes, Alpha,” you whimpered. Somehow he managed to pick up his already relentless pace as he ran one hand down to your aching clit. He rubbed tight little circles into it right before he bit down into your neck just at the juncture of it and your shoulder.

“Sherlock,” you screamed. Pain and pleasure coursed through you as he stayed latched onto you. Your body tried to curl into itself as you came, but you stayed planted firmly beneath him. You could feel him swelling, and then his knot trying to work its way into you. He turned his teeth loose from you and lapped at the bite, cleaning you. “Come on Little Omega, open up for me. Take your alpha’s knot like a good little girl” he encouraged. He was already so big, your body was having a hard time taking anymore, but finally with one last thrust it pushed into you with a popping sensation, locking the two of you together.

“Ooh,” he gasped. His knot was pushing right against your gspot, soon making you see stars once again. With your orgasm, Sherlock was sent into his own, swelling to the point you thought you would burst before emptying his heavy load within you. When he finally came down he rolled to the side, holding you tightly against him. He caressed your body, as he kissed your shoulder. The cool air in the room made your now exposed front ripple with a chill. Sherlock grabbed his coat that laid nearby on the floor and draped it over your body.

You laid like that quietly until his knot went down, and he slipped out of you, making you hiss. “Little Omega,” he whispered. You turned to face him. “Yes, Alpha,” you asked while brushing his wild curls back from his face. “I- I was too rough,” he said full of shame. He could deny it but now you were mated you could feel it flowing off of him in waves “No. You weren’t. I promise,” you told him. “This is not how I would’ve like to do things. I’m not- I just wanted you so badly darling. I thought from the moment we met maybe you were my mate, but I’m not one to give in to impulse. I thought I was stronger, smarter even than what I am, but I was wrong. Denying myself of you only made me want you more, and it resulted in this,” he said somberly.

“Did you not enjoy yourself? Or… do you not want me? Do you regret bonding with me?,” you asked worriedly. He couldn’t reject you. He just couldn’t. You knew it would absolutely kill you. “What? Of course I enjoyed myself, and I do want you Little Omega. I swear to it. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I’m grateful you agreed to letting me claim you. Please don’t think I have any regrets about that in the least. I just don’t like losing control,” he told you. “Well… I liked it,” you said sheepishly. “Naughty girl”, he teased, with a smile.

You kissed him sweetly before laying beside him to look into his eyes. They were so soft and filled with love for you, it took your breath. Suddenly you could feel yourself cramping again. “Ow,” you groaned. Sherlock quickly caught sent of you releasing more slick and hardened again. His eyes darkened and within seconds he was on you again with the same savagery as the first time. When he finished he held you close, rubbing your back soothingly. “I should’ve never denied myself of you,” he said before kissing you lovingly.

After making it through your first rut and heat together the two of you promptly went to the police with your findings before heading you your hometown to gather all your things and bring them back to 221b Baker Street. “Welcome home darling,” he said as he helped you down from the carriage and swept you off your feet, making you giggle. He carried you inside before bringing your things in, not letting you carrying in a single box. “I could’ve helped,” you told him. “My little omega is the queen of this home and will be treated as such. You shall not lift a single thing darling. That’s what your alpha is for,” he said before pecking your lips. You shook your head as you began unpacking.

Two years passed and they’d been the best of your entire life. In that time, Sherlock had decidedly worked less and spent more time with you. He was still a great detective but you were more important than anything else. He still absolutely went wild for you during his rut, which you wouldn’t wish for it to be any other way. You loved how he could be sweet and mild most of the time but take you roughly when you both needed it so badly. Just the thought of it sent a thrill though your body at times.

During those two years he also made you his wife and a mother to two beautiful little twin girls, Delilah and Rosemary. He was the sweetest, most attentive father and husband anyone could ask for. They were still babies and quite young. One evening you were sat in the study, exhausted as both girls nursed from your breasts. You were trying your best to stay awake as Sherlock poured over a recent urgent case. When he looked up he noticed your state.

“Little Omega,” he said making his way over to you. “Hmm?,” you asked. “I’m astounded by you every single day, I want you to know that,” he said as he knelt before you. “What?,” you asked surprisedly. “Look at you right now,” he said. “I’m just feeding our children, Sherlock,” you chuckled. “I know darling, but you’re so tired yet you persevere,” he said. “I- I have to,” you said, maternal instinct coming through strong from within you. “I know. You’re an amazing mother and wife. I’m so proud to be your husband,” he said as he kissed you softly. “Thank you,” you said as a tear ran down your face. “I love you,” he then said. “I love you too,” you replied.

When the girls were finished nursing Sherlock took one of them in his big arms and the two of you put them to bed before retiring for the night yourselves. “Come here Little Omega,” he said as he reached out for you. You nuzzled into his chest as his scent and warmth soothed you. He held you tightly, contentment filling his very bones as the love of his life laid there in his arms. “Hmm,” you hummed softly. “Happy darling?,” he questioned. “Yes, very tired, but very happy and filled with love,” you replied. He smiled to himself before cupping your face and kissing you goodnight, elated that you’d be his for the rest of your lives.

Taglist:

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[dear-mono]

Just The Tip!

Summary: a night spent in your house with careless flirting with your dad’s best friend leads to moral boundaries being crossed and you beneath him.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, just the tip that leads to more, he covers her mouth with his hand, age gap (Inho is in his mid 40s and reader mid 20s), dad best friend trope, alcohol consumption for both of them, making out, English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 5.2k+

Note: welcome to our first fic on this blog! This is Rue and you’re reading a fic written by me and beta-read by my bestie Mari who is also an admin on here! We both write and co-write each other’s fics and run this blog together! I hope you enjoy our first post here. Remember that comments and reblogs are always appreciated💕

“Get your pens, baby!” Gi-Hun yells from downstairs, frantically looking around the house for his daughter’s pens to pack her things and drop her back at her mother’s place.

His hysteria causes you to worry too, collecting your sister’s clothes from around the house in a hurry so she can leave on time without worrying her mother — it is quite funny, calling her your sister. In contrast, you call your adoptive father by his name. Perhaps she has made a place in your heart much faster than Gi-Hun.

“Found them, Daddy!” She squeals and smiles when she sees you, jumping up and down as she raises her fists for you to grab the pens and put them in one of the many bags you are holding. “I’m gonna miss you!”

“I’m gonna miss you too, sweetie!” You kiss her forehead, letting her drop her stuff in the bag you’re holding out for her before she dashes downstairs to help her father, leaving you to pick up the rest of her stuff, “Slow down!”

“Sweetheart,” Gi-Hun calls you, looking up when you walk towards them with two bags slung over your shoulders, “I don’t know if In-ho will come tonight or not, but could you please look out for him until I get back? Just make sure he doesn’t feel uncomfortable.”

“Of course, don’t worry about it,” you smile, dropping the bags on the couch, helping your father gather the rest of your sister’s belongings, and frantically chasing the little girl around to make sure she doesn’t destroy another part of the house. She is trying to help, she really is, but sometimes her enthusiasm gets the best of her and no one can control her antics.

With a sigh, Gi-Hun stands up and follows her to her room, leaving you alone to take care of the rest of her stuff in the sitting room, putting her coloring books and pencils in one of the bags before you hear the sound of the doorbell ringing.

“Coming!” You say when the doorbell rings again, walking to the front door to open it, smiling softly when you find In-ho standing there with a bouquet of white lilies, patiently waiting for you to invite him in, “Hey!”

“Hello, darling,” he beams at you, the pet name rolling on his tongue so smoothly that makes your knees weak, “I thought I should come here and keep you company while your father’s gone.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it—“ you are cut off by a loud grumbling noise coming from upstairs, showing how your father and sister are trying their best to find her socks so they can finally leave, “You arrived in the middle of the chaos.”

“Oh, no,” he says playfully, “I think I should leave before–“

“No, uh uh,” you pull him in by his free hand, chuckling when he shoots you a glare but lets you guide him inside, shutting the door behind him. You turn around to look at him, crossing your arms over your chest when you see the shocked look on his face as he scans the mess in your house, “Don’t worry, they’ll be gone in a few minutes.”

“I’m not worried about myself,” he shrugs, taking off his shoes, and pushing them to the corner next to the wall, “More worried for you because he is about to leave you with these to deal with.”

“Who says I’m gonna clean up after them?” You say, eyeing the bouquet he is holding, pursing your lips before you ask, “Going on a date, are you?”

“No,” he chuckles, making the blood rush to your cheeks, his warm brown orbs finding yours as he smiles softly, “These are for you, actually.”

“What?” You sigh slowly, looking from his eyes to the bouquet he is extended in front of you, lips parted in surprise as he hands you the flowers, “Thank you, you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he pats your head, walking past you towards the sitting room, nearly tripping over the legos spread on the floor, “I could leave if you have a lot to do. Handling a kid can’t be easy.”

“Would you please sit down? I won’t do anything, I swear, besides, I’m not the one handling a child. It’s Gi-Hun’s job,” you say, parting ways with him, moving towards the Kitchen to put the flowers in the water, placing the bouquet on the counter as you grab a vase and fill it, and gently lowering the flowers into the water after you pick them up.

“I hope you like them,” In-ho exclaims, following you in the kitchen and leaning on the counter, resting his weight on his hips and looking at you with a soft expression, “I didn’t have time to buy your father anything so I picked these up on my way here.”

“You don’t have to buy us anything,” you tell him, putting the vase between the two of you on the counter, standing in front of him, taking a good look at his attire — a light blue shirt with the first two buttons undone and bright beige pants that made him look more attractive in the eyes, completed by a brown bracelet on his left hand.

You look away from him as soon as you hear the rushed footsteps of your father and sister on the stairs, clearing your throat when Gi-Hun comes in to say goodbye to you.

“Hey, man,” he laughs softly, patting In-ho on the shoulder, “You didn’t tell me you were coming! We would have prepared something for you.”

“It’s all good,” In-ho smiles back, glancing from his friend to you, his smile widening slightly as he looks at you before he turns back to your father, “I’ve been here a thousand times, you don’t need to do anything.”

“Yeah, well, please enjoy yourself while I’m gone,” Gi-Hun turns to you, looking at you with a soft expression on his face, “I’ll be back in an hour or so, think of something to get for dinner on my way home, yeah?”

“Will do,” you reply, walking out of the kitchen to say goodbye to your little sister, bending down to hug her tightly, “Be good for your mom, okay? I’m gonna miss you so much.”

“I’m gonna miss you too!” She wraps her little arms around you, hugging you tightly before Gi-Hun and In-ho come into sight, your father picking up the numerous bags. Your sister lets go of you and grabs Gi-Hun’s free hand, waving goodbye as they walk to the door, “Goodbye sister! Goodbye Uncle In-ho!”

“Goodbye, little one,” In-ho waves back, helping you on your feet with a steady hand grabbing your arm, pulling you to his side with ease, the muscles under his shirt bulging with every movement of his hand.

“Okay,” you stumble on your feet a little, grounding yourself by a hand on his shoulder as you both say your goodbyes to Gi-Hun, “Drive safe!”

In-ho sighs as soon as the chaotic duo leave the house, running a hand down his face before he glances at your tired face. He smirks when he catches you dropping your forehead on his shoulder, exhaling deeply as the exhaustion overtakes you.

“Poor girl,” he mocks you a little, his tone soft and playful, “He must be working you out all the time, yeah?”

“Don’t remind me,” you groan, resting your cheek on his chest now under his chin, breathing in his cold, calm and smoky cologne, shuddering suddenly when he rests his palm on your waist to hold you close, “I love them both so much, but handling them at the same time is not for the weak.”

You can feel him lean down a bit, resting his cheek on your head as he lets you calm down a little. He gently rubs your back up and down while he listens to your soft breathing, closing his eyes and smelling the sweet scent of your perfume — just like how you are breathing in him.

“Thank you,” you pull away, your gaze meeting his piercing ones, and to your shock, he holds your eyes in an intense eye contact, staring deep into your orbs with the most captivating look he possesses. You swallow loudly, clearly flustered by the little distance left between you before you pat his chest lightly and untangle yourself from his embrace, moving towards the kitchen, “Do you want a drink?”

“Urm, yeah, please,” he clears his throat and follows you, pushing his hands into his pants pockets, watching as you shuffle around the fridge, pulling out two bottles of beer, “You don’t have any whiskey around?”

“I do, but it’s Gi-Hun’s bottles, you know how protective he is of his booze,” you explain, putting the cold bottles on the round table in the kitchen, opening a cabinet to pull out a bag of nuts for him to eat with his drink, “Make yourself at home!”

“Thank you, darling,” he says, sitting down in front of you, grabbing the bottle in his hand while he watches you sigh and sit, “Fuck, sorry, let me grab a—”

You don’t even have the chance to finish your sentence because he grabs the glass bottle and brings it to his mouth, putting the lid between his teeth before he pops the lid and slides the bottle towards you, holding the other one to open his own, taking a long swig from his drink.

“Wow,” you chuckle, taking a sip from your own beer, eyes twinkling with mischief, “You really like showing off your useless talents.”

“Useless? I opened your beer with my teeth so you wouldn’t have to move and you call it useless? Ungrateful brat,” He smirks at you, hiding his smile behind his bottle when you gasp and snort, shaking your head in disapproval.

“I’m not a brat because I don’t find your strong teeth charming,” You lean back on your chair, crossing one leg over the other, watching him closely as his eyes drift down your figure before he looks away quickly, busying himself with the cold beverage he has in hand, “Maybe a brat because I didn’t thank you, but still, I’ve been nothing but a good host so far.”

“Giving me a bag of nuts doesn’t make you a good host, darling,” he shrugs, chuckling softly when he hears your groan, “I'm sure your father has lots of snacks to nurse on with his drinks.”

“You’ll be shocked to know he doesn’t buy anything, our fridge is almost empty every day,” You sigh, leaning on the table, subconsciously pushing your chest closer to each other, making it so much harder for In-ho to keep his composure and not let his eyes slide down from your face, “I usually do the grocery shopping because he is lazy and has no idea what to buy. Unfortunately, we had his daughter over this week, so everything I bought is now gone.”

“Poor girl, perhaps you should come live with me, at least I can cook,” In-ho says, leaning forward, pushing the sleeves of his bright blue shirt up to his elbows before resting his upper body on the table like you, and has to stop himself from smirking when he sees your eyes fall onto his thick forearms before you look away and meet his eyes, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you clear your throat, shrugging and trying to act as if the simplest action of him doesn’t have you all hot and bothered, “Just thinking of what you can cook. Ramen, right?”

“Cheeky,” he laughs, straightening himself before he rests his back on the chair, spreading his legs before he adjusts his pants, his eyes never leaving yours, “That’s your dad’s specialty. I can cook anything you would like.”

“Really? Like what?” You lean down on the back of your hands, resting your palms on the table as you look at him, watching how his Adam’s apple bobs with every sip he takes, licking his pink lips after he finishes his bottle.

“Whatever you can think of.”

“I don’t want food, what can you buy for me?” You ask, grinning at him when he throws his head back and laughs, giving you a view of his long neck, “I’m serious! You have tons of money, why don’t you spend it on gifts for others?”

“I got you flowers, is that not enough for you, darling?” He smirks, licking his bottom lip as he stands up to get another bottle for himself, making you turn around and watch him closely as he bends down to grab his drink, then standing next to you while showing off his useless talent again and opening his beer, “What do you want?”

“A car would be a nice start,” You roll your eyes and chuckle when he shakes his head and cocks and eyebrow at you, “You said anything, I’m just listening to you.”

“Now you wanna be a good girl? Well, I am not complaining,” he replies, scoffing when you grin up at him, “Come on, something more achievable, darling.”

“And what if I don’t want anything else?” You ask, eyes not leaving his warm brown irises for a second, “Besides, you said anything, that word does not have a limit.”

“Don’t make me regret coming over,” he mutters, reaching to tilt your chin upward with his pointer finger, leaning down as well to get closer to you, “If it’s a car you want, a car you’ll get, but it doesn’t really benefit me now, does it?”

“Why should it benefit you?” You say with a strained voice, shaky and already out of breath as he keeps your chin up and leans down even more, “It’s a gift, not a favor.”

“Darling,” he mutters, his thumb coming to rest on top of your chin, pinching it lightly between his digits, “Do you think I don’t deserve a thank you if I give you a car? Are you that ungrateful?”

“I—“ You bite your lip, and with each second that passes, it gets harder to look into his eyes. There are too many feelings swirling in them, flooding his deep chocolate colored orbs with an intensity you have never seen before, “Maybe I am.”

“Too bad—“

This is the first time you get the urge to punch someone in the face — because not only do you hear the sound of keys jingling, you can hear your father cursing under his breath as he tries to open the door.

In-ho is quick to pull himself away from you, leaving you frowning and seething at your father. He tries to act nonchalant, none the wiser, walking towards the door with one hand in his pocket to say hi to Gi-hun.

“Welcome back.”

“Ah! I see you have made yourself at home!” Gi-hun grunts as he holds the numerous bags of food in one hand while he shuts the door, gesturing for In-ho to come and save the day, “You didn’t tell me what you wanted, kiddo. I just bought the food from the nearest restaurant.”

“It’s okay, thank you! I totally forgot to call you earlier about it,” you give him an awkward smile, trying to seem engaged in another work so he doesn’t notice the lack of plates and the empty beer bottles on the table, but it seems In-ho beats you to it and tells your father everything.

“We started without you,” In-ho sighs, gently laying the bags on the dining table where you were sitting and immediately starts unpacking them, “I was pretty thirsty and asked for a drink. I thought she’d give me something stronger, but beer had to do.”

“As if I could touch any of my father’s expensive bottles,” You stand up as well, helping the men to pull out the food boxes, taking each of them out before disposing of the bags, sitting down next to In-ho as Gi-hun sits in front of you both.

“Beer won’t do!” Your father stands up and walks to the cupboard next to the fridge, pulling out a large bottle of whiskey with two glasses, finally coming back to the table to pour the amber liquor for himself and his guest, “C’mon! Enjoy the night with us!”

“I will,” In-ho replies, grabbing his glass as he and Gi-hun clink their glasses together, turning his gaze to you before he says, “I already am.”

You do not dare to utter a word, you simply can’t say anything. His eyes are piercing into yours with a burning passion one has yet to see, and it seems he is also getting lost in the gaze, shaking his head as soon as he hears Gi-hun talking.

You try to keep up with their conversation, interrupting them here and there to not get bored for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, whatever they are talking about is not nearly as interesting as In-ho’s thigh brushing against yours — With how distracted you were, you have no idea when he decided to move his chair closer to you.

You can’t hear what Gi-hun says, but In-ho’s laugh echoes in the house, and with a rising heartbeat, you turn your head to look at him; his eyes are closed, lips parted as the deep sound of his laughter fills your ears, and to your dismay, he looks at you, the laughter turned into a soft smile.

“Right, folks, I don’t think I can keep up with you anymore. That little girl exhausted me to my bones,” Gi-hun sighs, running a hand over his face, “I can’t keep up with you tonight unfortunately.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll clean up, goodnight,” you smile at your father, waving back as he stands up to leave. You watch as In-ho does the same, standing up to leave before Gi-hun stops him.

“Where are you going? We have a guest room for a reason, I won’t let you drive at such an hour while you’re drunk.”

“No, it’s better to leave, besides I’d hate to keep up your girl—“

“It’s no problem, really,” you cut him off unexpectedly, catching his wrist under the table before he has the chance to fully straighten his back, pulling on his hand slightly so he can sit down again, “I don’t really sleep at this hour, so yeah, I can keep you company.”

“See? She’s a life saver!” Gi-hun says and finally turns his back to the two of you, “Goodnight! Don’t stay up too late!”

“Of course,” In-ho nods and sits down without brushing your touch off, watching as his friend walks upstairs to his room, leaving you alone inside the dimly lit kitchen. He turns his head to look at you, suddenly the distance between the chairs seems nonexistent, “What was that all about?”

“What?” You ask, dumbfounded and skin burning against him the longer you hold on to his hand, “What…What do you mean?”

“I mean, darling…” he gently pulls your hand off his wrist and puts his palm on your upper thigh, gently squeezing the flesh as he leans closer, “Do you really like spending time with me that much? I’m honored.”

“I…I do,” you whisper, lips parting in surprise when he tightens his grip on your thigh, his hand moving upper slowly, “In-ho, what are you doing?”

“Something you are clearly enjoying, am I wrong?” He leans closer, nudging your cheek with his nose, and he catches your eyes falling down to his lips, “Fuck, you’re killing me.”

He doesn’t let you respond. Instead, he closes the distance between the two of you slowly, pressing his lips to yours very softly, giving you enough time to pull away — but you don’t. You take your time kissing him, softly moving your lips while he nibbles on your bottom lip, his free hand moving to your waist to pull you closer.

The kiss is everything you have ever imagined; it is warm and makes you melt with how heat radiates from the sync movements of your lips. You feel him tilt his head to deepen the kiss, gently sinking his teeth down onto your bottom lip while his hand on your waist pulls you and your chair closer to him, making a loud, unbearable noise.

“Shhh,” you break the kiss and giggle shyly, “We can’t wake up Gi-hun.”

“Fuck, you’re right—“ he pulls away as if you have said something that hurt him deeply, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“What? No! I—“ you cup his face in your hands, making sure he is looking at you and not hiding his face, “I didn’t mean it like that. I want to do this, my father will never know about this, I promise.”

“We can’t, darling,” he kisses your forehead, his hand coming up to caress your head, “It is wrong, not only am I your father’s closest friend, but I am also twice your age—“

“I don’t care,” you peck his lips and to your surprise, he kisses back, “I need you, I don’t have the strength to keep away.”

“Stop talking—“

He silences you by kissing you, grabbing your waist to pull you into his lap, now both hands resting on your hips while he moves his lips against yours with more passion than before, relishing in the sigh you let out while he kneads the fat of your hips.

In-ho’s lips don’t part from yours for even a second, and you are thankful because you are sure your lips are swollen and your face is morphed with longing for him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pushing your chest against his while he sucks the breath out of your lungs.

You break the kiss, gasping for air with your foreheads pressed together, and you look down into his eyes only to find him physically craving to taste you once more. 

You push the few strands of his hair that have fallen on his forehead upward, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck as his hands begin to wander over your back, feeling the warmth of your body under his subtle touch.

“Let’s go,” you pull away and stand up, dragging him out of the chair towards the stairs. He doesn’t protest and follows you silently, walking behind you until you reach your room across your father’s room at the end of the hallway, “Come.”

You pull him in, and in an instant, he is on you, kissing you with a vulgar and rising desire, cradling your face in his palms, backing you towards your bed without breaking apart from you.

He lets go of your lips for a second when the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you fall on your bed, lying back as you look up at him, watching the rapid rise and fall of his chest and how disheveled he looks — you haven’t even started anything and he already looks so satisfied.

“We mustn’t go all the way,” he whispers as he crawls on top of you, holding himself up by his hands next to your head, humming in encouragement when you spread your legs enough for him to settle between them, “Keep it for another time, perhaps.”

“If you are saying this because of me, then just know that I’m okay if we do this… completely,” you breathe out, looking up into his eyes, watching as he leans down slowly, pulling your lips into a soft quick kiss, “Another time?”

“Maybe, darling,” he keeps pecking your lips, trailing his kisses from your lips to your cheek, rocking his hips forward, making you feel the ache in his pants, “For now, we must make sure you keep quiet.”

You bite your lip when he sucks a mark on your sensitive skin, lapping up on every inch he can get his tongue on, savoring the taste of your perfume — bitter or not — as he takes his time. But apparently, his self-control is near breaking with how he rubs the evident bulge in his pants against your clothed core.

“Fuck,” he groans and reaches down to undo your pants, pulling the fabric down urgently, straightening his back fully, and you take this chance to ubutton his shirt and push it off his broad shoulders, gasping sightly as you caress his heated skin from his collarbones down to his stomach, noticing how the muscles move as he gets rid of your pants.

You take off your shirt too, lying down beneath him with nothing on but your bra and underwear, legs resting against his hips while he runs the pad of his fingers along the length of your thighs.

“Please, don’t keep me waiting,” you whine, hands traveling down his v-line until you reach the pulsing tent that clearly needs some relief, “Please…”

“Fine, fine,” he breathes out, unzipping his pants and pushing it down to his knees with his briefs, sighing as his throbbing cock springs free, resting against his abdomen, “Fuck, darling, do you see what you do me? I’ve been aching all night for you.”

“In-ho…” you say, hands shyly wrapping around his dick, slowly moving up and down his length, eyes never leaving his face as he tips his head back and groans in delight when you squeeze his base, “Need to feel you.”

He opens his eyes and looks down at the wet spot on your underwear, cursing under his breath as he starts rubbing your cunt over your panties. His eyes darken even more when he sees how you start to tremble with the simplest touch.

In-ho pushes your panties aside, exhaling sharply when he finds out exactly how wet you are for him; folds drenched and arousal coating all over your pussy. His thumb traces your lower lips before he inches upward, circling your clit slowly, smirking when you close your eyes and grab the sheets.

“You look so beautiful,” he whispers, his free hand wrapping around yours as he guides your hand up and down on his cock faster, his thumb’s pace matching yours, “I can’t wait to see you fall apart for me.”

You gasp when he presses down on the bundle of nerves. With your head thrown back, you buck your hips against his finger, and with each stroke, you can feel how he does the same, thrusting into your fist faster.

But he pushes your hand away suddenly, positioning himself between your legs as he rests his cock over your cunt, rubbing himself over you with intensity. He grabs a hold of your hips, thrusting his cock against your clit, letting your wetness coat his cock with each snap of his hips.

“Put it in, I must feel you—“

“I can’t, darling,” he gasps, squeezing your hips, “We can’t do more than this because if Gi-hun ever finds out—“

“Just the tip! Please, In-ho, this is what I want! You said anything, just put the tip in!” You nearly whine again loudly, your hands holding onto his forearms, “He won’t find out, nothing will change.”

“You’re just begging to be ruined,” he spits the words out, grabbing his cock from the base, slapping the head against your sensitive nerves before lines up himself with your soaked entrance, circling the hole before he pushes in very slowly, his nails digging into your hip while yours break through his skin, “Fuck, darling.” 

The sound he makes almost makes you come on spot, and with the thick head of his cock stretching you out, you know you won’t be able to hold back much longer.

“You’re so warm,” he groans, trying his best not to snap his hips forward and fuck you like an animal. He reminds himself he must hold back, he must make sure he doesn’t lose his composure and get lost in the way your walls pulsate and hold onto his cock so beautifully.

“Please, move—“ you gasp when his thumb starts circling again as soon as he pulls out barely and thrusts back inside as gently as he can — just the tip — because if he lets go of the little restraint he has mustered up to keep, he will pin you to the bed all night.

“Not enough, In-ho—“ you reply, locking your legs around his waist, pulling him in as best as you can, but he stops you by grabbing your jaw forcefully, nails digging in your cheeks, and he leans down to look directly into your eyes.

“It has to be enough,” he groans when he feels you tightening your inner walls around him, “Don’t. You’re treading on thin ice already.”

“I need it—“

“Fine, have it your way.”

He doesn’t let go of your face when he bottoms out in one thrust, resting his forehead on yours as he shakes atop of you, his balls resting against the curve of your ass.

If it wasn’t for his hand, you would be moaning his name out loud for the entire neighborhood to hear. He fills you up to the brim, stretching your walls out deliciously, giving you exactly what you want.

You are close, and more importantly, judging by the way his cock throbs inside of you, he is close too. You bite his thumb when he starts moving in and out, his hips snapping to yours and his cock nudging those sweet spots deep inside you that has your head swirling with pleasure.

Your hands go to his broad shoulders, scratching and rubbing his skin while he fucks you; no sign of any self control whatsoever. He moves quickly but carefully, after all, he does not wish to wake his friend up and get caught giving a mind-blowing orgasm to his friend’s daughter.

The knot in your stomach breaks, legs shaking and chest heaving as your peak washes over your body, euphoria rushing through your veins while In-ho keeps his pace, fucking you through your orgasm until he reaches his high.

He pulls out immediately, stroking himself until he shoots his load on your stomach and bra, throwing his head back as he sits up on his knees, his dick twitching while he pumps his cum all over you. He falls next to you on the bed, both of your bodies shaking with the aftermath of the ecstatic moment you experienced.

“I don’t want to, but I must go to the guest room,” he tells you gently, reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear, “I wish I could stay longer but…”

“Don’t worry, I will clean up myself,” you smile, turning your head to kiss his palm, “Besides, we can’t risk getting caught.”

He nods and sits up on the bed, pulling his pants and briefs on before he reaches for his shirt on the ground, standing up to get dressed before he leaves.

“I never understand why your father has a four bedroom house while he is in debt,” he tries to make small talk, making you chuckle and lean up on your elbows, “It’s not rational.”

“Gi-hun is greedy,” you shrug, “He loves to spend and hates to make money.”

“That explains it,” he sighs, pushing his hands into the pockets of his pants, “Goodnight, darling. Again, I’m sorry you have to deal with that all by yourself.”

“Goodnight, In-ho.”

[dear-mono]

husband!in-ho ✩ headcanons

warnings: 18+, smut.

a/n: i am so obsessed with husband!in-ho. i need him bad. 

sfw ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

• in-ho is extremely possessive and clingy, but much more as your husband. 

• every now and then, he’ll let you watch some games with him. he’ll sit down on his black leather couch and pull you onto his lap, one hand holding a glass of whiskey and the other hand softly placed on your hip. he doesn’t like it when you drink but will occasionally pour you a glass of whiskey, finding it endearing to see you get tipsy so easily. on those days, you get more messy, placing soft kisses to his jawline as he watches the game. “you’re distracting me.” he’ll murmur, but won’t stop you from kissing him. as soon as the game is over, he’ll turn off the tv and kiss you softly, cupping your face and pulling you closer to him. 

• in-ho doesn’t fall asleep easily and when he does, he’s awakened by any noise. when you start to get tired, he’ll close the book he was reading and shut off the light, pulling you into chest. he’ll stroke your hair and place soft kisses to the top of your head until you drift off to sleep. 

• in-ho spoils you a lot. he will buy you just about anything you ask for and even things you don’t ask for, but that’s just his way of showing love. plus, watching you get all dressed up in an outfit and jewellery he knows he bought for you makes him happy. 

• at first, in-ho didn’t like taking you to the island with him on the week of the games, afraid he would be putting you in danger. he’s much more willing to take you now, mainly because he can’t stand to be away from you. he also loves to see you after a long day of work, knowing he can slip into your arms and feel any tension go away. 

• if he goes off to the games to be a fake player, he’ll do his best to keep you from getting too worried. 

“i don’t think this is a good idea,” you’ll mumble to him. 

he’ll give you a soft smile before responding, “i’m going to be okay, i promise.” 

he’ll find ways to sneak off during the games to meet you somewhere, each time pulling you into a tight hug and placing a passionate kiss to your lips. he’ll reassure you that he’s okay and wipe away any of your tears.  

nsfw under cut ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

• in-ho loves eye contact during sex. he’ll force you to look at him, admiring your pretty face and flushed cheeks. whenever you take him from behind, he’ll wrap a hand gently yet firmly around your neck, forcing you to look back at him. after a long day’s work when you get on your knees, his hand will reach down and lightly lift your chin up. “so beautiful.” he’ll murmur. 

• he loves cockwarming. often times he’ll do it just to see how needy you get, begging for him to let you move. he’ll sit on the black leather couch in the office, watching the first game, while you straddle him. his hands will grip your hips firmly and anytime you squirm, he’ll tighten his grip. “be a good girl and i’ll give you what you want after i’m done watching this, okay?”

• he loves to fuck you in his frontman attire. on those days, he won’t even remove the mask. even though you’re unable to see his face, he still expects you to maintain eye contact. his voice comes out deeper due to the distortion, as do the grunts and moans. meanwhile, his gloved hands will tangle into your hair, pulling slightly. 

• he prefers to receive his head, but on some nights his kisses will trail down your neck, eventually making their way further down your body. he’ll slip off your panties and strongly hold your thighs down, before giving you a smirk and getting to work. he’s messy yet meticulous with his movements and knows exactly all the right spots for you. when he eats you out, he likes to drag out the process, teasing you and getting you so close to climax only to take it all away. he mainly does this to hear you beg. as you get closer, your hips will buck up and his hands will tighten their grip on your thighs, pressing you back down into the mattress. “hold still,” he’ll murmur into you, the vibrations driving you crazy. 

[dear-mono]

If Only You Would Know

HenryCavill!Sherlock x Female!Reader

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

a/n: we're diggin' out old old drafts for this one, but I needed a little Sherlock again :)

word count: 4k

warnings: a little arguing, pining, someone gets injured, idiots in love™️ (it's a new genre of mine)

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

You sighed as Sherlock moved about his office with hasty determination. He was a strange man. Oblivious, too, time and time again. But that did not matter for you loved him. You loved him and every strange habit he harbored. Whether it was the way in which he arranged his coats on the brass hanger by the door or that godawful pipe he seemed to always have hanging from his lips. He did not even like it - he had told you one time. “’tis just a habit, dear,” it would muffle past the brown bit in his mouth before he would clip it back between his teeth. 

But you did not care. And that must have been the very fact telling you just how deeply your heart had already fallen for the famous detective. Not a care in the world, especially not for what other people thought to say the least. Because all you ever thought about upon seeing him was love, warmth, and endearment. Nothing less. Not even a wretched criminal could ever shoot these feelings out of your heart. 

Oh well, it did not matter, anyhow. For there was one issue keeping this fairytale from becoming reality. And this issue was that Sherlock Holmes, the brightest man you knew, was blatantly oblivious to the feelings you had harbored in your chest. To be fair, you had never mentioned it to him before. For you were simply terrified of the consequences such a confession would hold. It was one thing to pine over a man who you were lucky enough to be in the same room with, but it would be undeniably humiliating to be rejected by said man as well. So you had chosen not to act on the fiery desire burning within your veins whenever your eyes hushed a glance at him. 

As much as that decision was made to protect your heart, it had turned out the circumstances provided the opposite of the desired effect. You were hurting more and more with every day you had to live with the realization that Sherlock Holmes did not love you back. In fact, he loved other women - many of them. And every single one more beautiful than the other. Sometimes you found yourself wondering if they were human at all. Never before had you seen such luscious hair as that of Sibyl or such a beautiful smile as that of Amelia. It was difficult to settle with these gorgeous women having a place in his bed and possibly his heart, but soon, you realized the importance of seeing him happy trumped your own desires. If he was happy, so were you. And if you weren’t the one making him happy, so be it. 

You had just come here to see Enola from her home to the city. Stopping by her brother’s apartment had not been on the agenda, at least not yours. But Enola was adamant to have you come when she raced up the stairs to his door. You had gasped when Sherlock had opened, his hair slightly disheveled and the shirt loosely tugged in his trousers. Your heart was pounding - it always happened when you saw him, and you swiftly averted your eyes to hide the flustered look on your face from him. 

Now you were standing in his messy home as you listened to Enola convince him to let her help him on a particular case of his - one she had a personal attachment to. Mixed emotions crawled up your spine at the sight of this professional yet intimate space. Not only one room over, Sherlock's bed was mockingly standing beyond the door, messy sheets indicating his prior endeavors, but there was no Sibyl or Amelia in sight. Still, your hands clamped around the silky material of your skirt, wrinkling the fabric harsher with every minute you spend in the deep-colored room. It smelled of musk and tobacco. Two things you had grown to miss whenever they were not surrounding you, but now, it was a shiver too much. 

Sherlock stood before you and Enola with his hands on his hips, a look of annoyance and disapproval etched on his features, but nonetheless, a sense of amusement in the edges of his frown. You knew him too well not to notice the slight pride swelling from his chest at his little sister’s determination. 

“I believe it is too dangerous for a girl like you to wander the streets, chasing criminals through London, Enola.”

“And I believe that you are an idiot, brother.”

“Perhaps,” your finger lifted in suggestion, stopping Sherlock’s head from tilting in disapproval at his sister’s array just in time. “She can be accompanied in her wandering?”

“And who would this accompany be?”

You knew it was not your place to negotiate, but you cared for Enola too much not to. And even though Sherlock’s stern eyes bore into your frame, you began to talk again: “I could-“

“Oh, dear lord. That is out of question.”

“Why brother? Do you not think Ms. Y/N and I can defend ourselves?”

A short silence lay upon the siblings as you watched the man’s shoulders draw up with a tense jaw. “I said no.”

“You are being irrational.” Enola cried. She was not one to accept defiance easily, you were well aware of it.

“No, you are being irrational. I will not vouch for having two women hurt on a mission to gather intel for my cases.”

“You cannot stop me.”

There was something itching in the glimmer of his eyes when the words left his lips, though you weren’t quite sure what to make of it.

“Enola!” Almost fearfully, Sherlock turned to you, his eyes wandering and desperation conveyed in his stare when you heard the young girl open the door.

“I am sure we can negotiate a way to have both parties satisfied.” Enola halted as you spoke. “I am certain your bother has other tasks that need fulfilling and are less prone to danger. Isn’t that right, Mr. Holmes?”

Sherlock was not entirely satisfied with this turn of events, but his sagging shoulders told you that he accepted the compromise. A sigh eluded from his lungs and Enola turned to the dark-haired man with excited eyes. “I presume, there would be things you could do.”

“Thank you–“

“But,” his eyes turned stern again, “In the office only. No more wandering, is that clear?”

Enola beamed. “Yes.”

❁ ❁ ❁

It was not long after the discussion when you and Enola went about home from the city. Still, however, despite the seemingly fair compromise negotiated just minutes prior, the younger woman sloppily trudged next to you.

“He is an idiot, that is what he is.” Enola stomped past you with a pouty face. It was not ladylike, but luckily, she knew that you were not one to care about that. 

You understood Enola’s frustrations, but simultaneously, your heart were to break if anything ever happened to her. So you understood the settled worry in her brother’s words as well. He was a good man. “He is just worried. It means he cares.”

“Well, he could care a little less and let me do my job.” You hid a smirk. Only Enola would be as adamant about saving a boy she had only met days ago. She was just as goodhearted and justice-seeking as Sherlock, and your heart warmed at the similarities the siblings shared.

“It is not your job, Enola.” Sometimes you genuinely admired her fixation, though it mostly converted into trouble, still. Enola had a lot more freedom than you did when you were her age, and you too would have sprung at any chance to go and wander about, seeking adventures and perhaps a little more than that. Which was in turn, why your heart felt torn between the fulfillment of having her seek childhood dreams, and the subtle but strong tug Sherlock Holmes held you with. 

“Did you forget what we just found out yesterday? It seems no one cares about him. And if nobody else will do it, I consider it my duty to help.”

“Enola, dear.” You held her shoulders gently. “I understand your worries, but I understand your brother’s as well. I would be just as worried about you if something were to happen, and I do not want to see you hurt, either.”

“But we have to do something!” This was true. It would not be right to leave the boy framed with false accusations when you had the power to change his fate. There was something you could gather - information that may help him be acquitted.

“How about I go?” You silently cursed your good intentions as Enola’s eyes lit up. It was a blessing and a curse. But other than Enola, there would be nobody worrying for you, and in turn a lot less hearts broken if something were to happen - which it surely would not. “You can stay in the study and I will see to it that we may gather more information.”

“Alright, but be careful. And make sure to come back by five. Otherwise, someone will get suspicious.” The girl smiled, but her shoulders shook with excitement.

“What? Do you think I’m stupid?” You teased, awaiting a sassy ‘of course not’ which you returned with a wink.

❁ ❁ ❁

Enola watched the clock next to the window. Seconds, ticking by too fast for her liking. She needed more time - you needed more time. Her brother had given her files to sort and he would be coming back soon. Upon your agreement yesterday, you had gone out to gather information on the woman who accused the boy. But you would be back soon, she told herself.

“Is Ms. Y/N not here with you?” Sherlock’s voice called through the room and his steps approached her steadily. 

Enola was stiff. “She is out,” she told him while her fingers counted the pile of files on the desk.

“Out? With who?” He stepped around the polished mahogany, settling in front of her with his hands behind his back. “I didn’t realize she was being courted.” 

Oh. Enola’s eyes sparkled with amusement when she obtained a glimmer of jealousy in her brother’s. She had always had her suspicions. And she knew of your being madly in love with her brother, but Sherlock had always been secretive regarding the topic of love.

“She went to shop,” she smiled, averting her eyes. Waiting - no, anticipating a response from him.

“So she is not with anyone.” Sherlock leaned forward with squinted eyes. For a man as good at solving puzzles as he was, he did need an awful lot of confirmation.

Enola finally looked up. “Ugh, you really are an idiot.” 

“Would you quit calling me an idiot?” Disapproval swept his features and made a frown settle instead. 

“I would, but you won’t quit being an idiot.”

“Whatever do you mean?” It was quite amusing to see him clueless for once. And even though you tried to hide your feelings or the way you responded whenever he was as much as in the same room as you, it did not go past Enola how long your eyes lingered on his frame or the way the sadness overtook your features at the mention of another woman.

“Ms. Y/N is head over heels in love with you. And I do not understand why you refuse to see it, she is not hiding it very well, you see?”

Sherlock stumbled back, his hands seemingly finding their pace over his heart when he repeated her words. “Ms. Y/N? In love with me?”

“And you really call yourself the greatest detective of our time.” Enola shook her head. Still, the thought of the two of you together was one she liked to entertain. And she asked herself just how much you could talk Sherlock into once you were together. He was already caving when you suggested things - the possibilities of Enola getting her way when the both of you finally gave into the pining were endless!

“Oh, hush. I just never thought she would...” Sherlock trailed off, and if Enola was not mistaken, she caught a whisper of pink settle over his cheeks. Could it really be? The great Sherlock Holmes in love? Even better with a woman Enola adored as well?

“This is exactly the problem, brother. You don’t think when it comes to women.” Her mind wandered back to the women you had seen leave his chambers by the break of dawn. And just like then, Enola noticed a familiar sense of sadness wash over her brother’s eyes - the same one you hid from her in these moments.

“Enola...” But his words died on his tongue and Enola thought it wiser to resume her task. Sherlock was aware of his idiocy. For Enola knew just how insignificant all the other women were to him. And she hoped he had realized this fact.

A moment or two passed in which Sherlock paced the room mindlessly. His hands disappeared behind curtains and in bookshelves, until they reached for the pocket watch in his coat and a subtle grumbling eluded his lungs. “She should be back soon, anyhow. Should she not?”

“I suppose, yes.” 

“Well, it is quarter past five already. The shop is closed well over an hour now.” Sherlock did not hide the impatience in his tone, now. And Enola felt a wave of success wash over her.

It was difficult to hide her nervousness, though, for she now worried about you as well. But you were fine - she consoled herself. You were tough and intelligent, simply a little late - that was surely it. “She will come soon.”

An unusual tension fell over the room and Enola was certain, her brother had already dismissed her little story. But she would not falter. Her fingers kept cramming through the papers, counting pages she had analyzed and sorted two times by now. Her movements, however, became more frantic, and soon, her heart was pounding in her wrists.

“Enola, what in heavens did you do?” Sherlock urged impatiently, a look cold as a stone set on his face. 

“Nothing.” She did not look at him, then he would know instantly - the little lie she told.

“You sent her out to spy didn’t you?”

Why did he keep asking if he already knew the answer? Enola did not speak. She was fairly ashamed, though. She wanted to show her brother just how capable she and you both were. But having you not come back made for a serious difficulty to her plan.

She looked up at him now, just in time to see his shoulders sag and his head tilted up in frustration. “After I told you not to?”

“You only ever forbid me from going!” She cried, suddenly feeling attacked by his irrational outburst.

“I did not want Ms. Y/N out in the streets alone, either.” Sherlock was pacing again, his shoes clicked on the polished wooden floor until the reached the coat hanger by the door, only to gruffly rip the dark cloak from its place.

An accusing finger reached in his direction and a small smirk appeared on his sister’s lips. “So you are in love with her.”

The man frowned and his chestnut locks shook with annoyance. “That is not important right now. We need to find her.”

He did not deny it and Enola Holmes viewed it as a success.

❁ ❁ ❁

Sherlock swept through the streets as fast as his feet could carry him. Never had he thought that he would need to worry about your well-being. Enola’s? Yes, constantly. She did dangerous things all the time. But you were the one with the rational mind, the trait he adored most above all, for it eased his own every so often. It was enough to look out for Enola as much. He loved her and that was what love did: It made for weaknesses. Though Sherlock never wished to not adore you as much as he did, at this moment, it would have spared him trouble. 

He passed another alley filled with dubious fellows and willed his thoughts not to stray to dark paces. Normally, he could stay focused. Normally, he was able to separate his feelings from his tasks very well. Normally, he needn’t worry about you, however. 

Enola was many steps behind, he could hear her heels clicking in haste in her catching up, but Sherlock would not budge. He would keep on searching, keep on going straight until his sister gave him another direction to follow. She knew where you were after all, and he could not even begin to indulge in the worry-consumed anger this fact fueled him with. 

It did not take long for the detective to reach the house of the last suspect he had abandoned in his search for answers. You must have gone there. Enola had been especially furious about his dropping the woman upon questioning, urging her brother to stay on the lead. But Sherlock had already gotten enough information to place her in the entire scheme. Enola did not know this of course - he had never told her. So it was only plausible to send you to spy on said woman. What you had not known, however, was the dangerous affiliates this woman had, and the little to no hesitance of hers to pursue them.

The house lay empty on the street once the siblings reached its steps, no light shining through the glass windows, not the smell of dinner lingering in the air. It was odd, though nothing to be upset over. You had been here, Sherlock knew it. He was disappointed to find out, however, that you were not anymore. Of course, you had realized the danger of the situation and left, but where to? 

His head jerked to the left once Enola caught up to him, following the rattling of bins coming from the alley close by, where a faint trail of blood droplets mixed with the rain. 

“Bloody hell,” the detective mumbled with every inch it lead him further to your location. And sure enough, beyond the shielding confines of a wooden palette, he spotted your coat pressed into the wall. 

A small hiss, and then: nothing when he called your name.

“Ms. Y/N, heavens!” He rushed over once his eyes caught your distraught face behind the wood, your entire hand covered in blood, pressed to your head, where more seemed to have already dried on your scalp. 

“Mr. Holmes?” Your voice was weak, your eyes hazy - growing in the confusion the head injury most likely brought to you. 

Sherlock's arms reached out to engulf you, a handkerchief quick to be pressed on your head as he knelt beside you and let your body rest against his torso. “Enola, go and get help, immediately!” He commanded with urgency, having the young girl run off with a shocked nod.

His attention traced back to your body, where his eyes focused on your heavy lids and his heart clenched at the sight. You were hurt - seriously hurt - and Sherlock could not shake the feeling of it being his fault. Had he only consulted you in his case, had he talked to Enola, had he been less cowardly and finally admitted to his feelings. This all might have never happened.

“You should not have gone out alone!” He cried as he rocked you back and forth, his arms held you a little tighter, and he was certain that his heart beat through the several layers of clothing separating you.

“You have no right to rule over me.” Your hands pressed against his chest, forcing him to let you pull away from his embrace, and Sherlock instantly missed the warmth holding you had given him. He needed it back - confirming you were fine.

“But I told you not to go!” Big eyes stared up at him, but there was disappointment simmering beneath the sheer gleam of anger.

“Why are you upset? I can do whatever I desire!” It was meant to come out strong, but not even a woman as tough as you were able to hide the weakness taking over your body.

“But you got hurt!” Sherlock was juggling with empty arguments, he knew this much. But there was no right way to express what he wished to pursue with his words. It was all too much and not enough, all the same.

“Mr. Holmes, I can take good care of myself. I have done it my whole life.”

“And you shouldn’t have.” This seemed to have caught you by surprise. For you stopped in your shuffling away and held his gaze equal in confusion and intrigue. 

“Whatever do you mean?” You shrieked softly, your breath staggering when he came closer to you.

Sherlock found it incredibly difficult to talk, suddenly. His hands were clammy and that stupid tie around his neck seemed just a tad too tight. Christ, he could not even look at you. He was left staring towards the wet grounds with his hands wringing beneath him.“I- it has come to my attention that I lack perception in some categories.” He hushed a look at you and was not surprised to see utter confusion seeping through your stare. 

Sherlock sighed and his shoulders jumped heavily once he mustered up the courage to explain: “I do not wish to see you hurt.”

“Why?” Your eyes were big and wondrous, much like a curious child prying up in awe over what it was to become privy of.

Sherlock tried, he really did, to be steady and informative, but there was no use, for his heart had decided otherwise. “Because... because, I- my heart hurts when I imagine something happening to you.”

“But what about Sybil or Amelia… or Babette?” Every name stung another hole in his heart as your eyes saddened naming the woman he had spent previous nights with in order to get over you. He never loved them, never adored them the way he did you. They were simply a distraction. A petty compromise for the actual being he was sure would never return his affection. Now that he found out the opposite, Sherlock was uncertain about how to act. 

“These women... they were just compensation for the one I couldn’t have.” He confessed slowly, his hand reaching for you and finally getting ahold of your chin. “I did not think you would be interested in me.”

“Oh but I am, Sherlock.” Your fingers came to cover his. “I am.” And an unbelievable force of warmth and calmness washed over him. Despite the blood, despite the worry. Despite everything being wrong at this very moment, he was calm. You had this effect on him.

“I know that now. My sister told me.” Sherlock sent a silent prayer to the stars. Had his sister not been as persistent he would have never gotten the opportunity to hold you close - feel you the way he desired. 

“She is quite a smart lady isn’t she?” A low chuckle echoed through the darkening alley, though a shy blush crept upon the detective’s cheeks. 

“As much as I hate to admit it, she is a good detective.” His thumbs stroked gentle swipes over your skin, a sliver of warmth tasting your body with every movement, and it felt good to have you indulge in his touch. He would have never dreamt of having you this close, having you feel the same feelings he did. And to be perfectly honest, experiencing it, in reality, was a hundred times better than anything he had ever imagined. “God, Y/N. If only I had known earlier.”

“Let us not grieve what is already done. Embrace the possibilities of the future with me.” Your eyes locked with his once again and your aura seemed to pull him even deeper into a trance. Sherlock could not look away. He was captured by every loving emotion radiating off of you. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. But he would keep it guarded in his chest for eternity, even if nobody were to ever ask him about it. It was precious - this moment was worth hundred terrible ones. 

“You are right,” he agreed, and then, beyond his control almost, Sherlock pulled you into a warm kiss. 

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[dear-mono]

The Experiment pt. 2

Sherlock Holmes x reader

The Experiment pt. 1 // Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Oh?' An eyebrow raised, interest piqued.

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

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

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

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

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

‘Sherlock… I'll need to taste you.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sherlock’s breath caught in his throat.

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

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

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

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

‘Understood.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[dear-mono]

i love this series 😭

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes masterlist

Summary: Your marriage starts rocky.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

Warnings: angst, implied innocent reader, smut in future chapters, innocent reader, shy/insecure reader

A/N: A collection of drabbles on how you became Mrs. Sherlock Holmes.

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (1)

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (2)

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (3)

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (4)

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (5)

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (6) FIN

[dear-mono]

okay but i love the way this is written. ITS SO PERFECT FOR THE TIME PERIOD BUT ITS NOT LIKE SUPER DEEP TO THE POINT THAT YOU DONT UNDERSTAND IT ANYMORE YOU GET??

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…

[dear-mono]

Proof of love ♡

Sherlock Holmes x fem!reader

Prompt: After y/n gets a little stressed about her and Sherlock's relation and— Well, Sherlock shows her how he really loves her ;)

Warnings: smut 18+ minors DNI, age gap (reader is in their 20s and Sherlock in his 30s), p in v, unprotected sex, fluff, creampie

A/n: I need Sherlock in my life so badly 😩

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚ ⊹ ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Sherlock and I just arrived home after attending a high society party so we could unfold more information about this recent case. Enola and Tewkesbury were there too, the first working on her case as well and the later was there on work behalf as he is a Lord and has his duties as one.

Enola was clearly bothered with all the feminine attention Lord Tewkesbury was given. I couldn't censure her as I was feeling the same towards Sherlock and all those ladies around him asking for a dance, their hands all over my man. Enola and I just rolled our eyes and focused on our cases ignoring each woman who approached the men.

•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•

Sherlock opened the door to his apartment and we walked in, I was clearly frustrated and it didn't slip Sherlock's gaze "You alright, darling?" he asks tenderly and cautiously.

I turn to him and see his concern "Yes, love, everything's alright." I say, even though I was lying. Those interactions all night long made me feel easily discarded and replaced.

Sherlock and I relationship was somewhat recent, we were only together for half a year and yet none of us dared to say those three simple words.

I can say that I care for him deeply, I got really attached to his personality, behaviour, the manner he works and thinks, his papers all around his apartment in a perfectly messy way, the way he played the violin when wanted to relax and get lost for a moment.

I truly fell for this exquisite detective, but I didn't dare to say those words to his face as I was afraid he wasn't feeling what I was. So I kept it to myself until now.

Sherlock frowns and follows me to our shared room "Darling, I know you and I can tell something is up." he says with concern in his voice as I try to unzip my dress, ending to ask him for help on it. He gladly does "Please talk to me." his voice wavering a bit making me look at him worriedly.

I sigh seeing his saddened face as I've never seen him like this. Getting closer to him I lay my hands, one on each side of his face and look deep into his eyes with tenderness "It is nothing important of concern, honey." I say softly, trying to brush it off.

But then again, Sherlock Holmes wouldn't be Sherlock Holmes without discovering the truth "It is concerning you and if it is concerning you, it is concerning me." he says pointing between us as he talks "Please, don't leave me in the dark, dove." he says while holding my gaze and I gave in and told him everything I was feeling at the party and when all the female attention is on him, how replaceable I feel, how dischargeable, how ridiculous.

I was now sitting at the end of our bed with my head hanging as my eyes freely released tears while looking at our hands interlocked on my lap "Oh, dear, why haven't you talked about this with me?" he asks caringly, I sniff and he brings his index finger and thumb to my chin, lifting it so I could look into those blue pools "I didn't want to overreact." I say barely above a whisper, he smiles softly "It's not overreacting dear and I assure you here that I have only eyes for you, my beautiful girl." he says as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, caressing my cheek afterwards and cleaning the remaining of my tears with his thumb.

"Prove it then." I blurt out shocking myself with my boldness, but nonetheless Sherlock chuckles darkly making me shiver "With pleasure, darling." he says as he leans over me making me lay down on the mattress behind me.

Now hovering over me he caresses my sides teasingly as his lips brush mine. No words were said as he connects strongly and lovingly his lips to mine eliciting a moan from me. He starts lowering his hands as his lips move to my neck and collarbone, teasing and marking all the soft spots.

I was already on my undergarments making me start to take off his clothes as he's still fully clothed, first his jacket, then his tie and vest, his shirt and belt were now off and he pulled down his pants discharging them somewhere in the room.

"Please, I need you." I say tugging at the waistband of his underwear, he chuckles "Eager are we?" he asks making me flush as I nod. He frees himself as I take off of me the remains of my underwear.

Now both fully naked we scan each others body "You're so beautiful." he growls caressing my side with his fingertips before capturing my lips while aligning himself with my entrance. As he enters me my mouth falls open and a moan echoes through the room "Oh dear." he says against my ear, his arms each on either side of my body, his hands behind my back, flat on my shoulder blades as he moves lovingly in and out of me.

My legs wrap around his waist pulling him closer as my nails dig into his back certainly leaving some scratches over it. Both breathing heavily and moaning into each other's ears; I love this man so much.

Sherlock speeds up his pace hitting a wonderful spot inside me over and over "Yes, honey, don't stop!" I say gasping sensing the tension building up each time he pounds into me. He then gets on his knees bringing my legs up to rest on his shoulders, I cry out in pleasure as he groans pounding strongly "I'm so close, Sherlock." I say, my legs start to tremble with the feeling.

With a few more pushes and I'm taken over the edge, Sherlock following, spilling his seed into me "Ah, Sherlock!" I say pushing him down and kissing his lips eagerly and then softly. As he pulls away he brushes against my lips, whispering "I love you." I froze and look up at him "What?" I breathe out starstruck about his confession, his eyes widen as he realized he just confessed his feelings for me out loud.

I bring my hand to his cheek and caress it, I smile before letting out a soft chuckle as my eyes fill with happy tears. I lift my head so I could reach his slightly trembling lips and close the gap, the kiss is slow, tender and filled with love, as we were telling without words 'I love you'.

Slightly I pull away and whisper against his lips "I love you too." his eyes widen slightly hearing the words slip like honey from my mouth making me smile lovingly at the man still above me.

[dear-mono]

UGH I LOVE THIS

Needing some attention

Hello all! Just a little sherlock one shot that was cooking up in my head! God I love that man!! I promise We'll get back to the regularly scheduled program soon! I PROMISE!!!

Summary: Sherlock is busy with work, and you try your best to stay out of his way but you can be quite fussy when you want his attention.

Warnings: Cursing. Sex MDNI, P in V sex. Fingering, Multiple Orgasms. Creampie. Unprotected sex. dirty talk. Sherlock being painfully handsome! Soft Dom sherlock

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Entranced, yes that was the word. I was fully entranced just watching from the doorway. The bright morning sun streams through the window of the study, casting a warm glow around him as he works. His features are almost angelic, of course; truly, he was anything but. The thought causes a soft giggle to escape my lips.

“If you were trying to be discreet, you’ve blown your cover,” he says, his voice low, smooth, and calm. There’s an ever-present smirk on his face. Throughout the whole interaction, he never once looks up from his desk. Another giggle escaped me, and I took a few steps into the study. 

“Not sneaking, simply admiring.” I smile. “You’ve been working at this one for quite some time,” I tell him. I walk over to his desk, standing behind him, my hands gently resting on his large shoulders. His smirk grows wider, and he hums softly. I feel myself gasp as the detective captures one of my hands from his shoulders and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm.

“Yes,” He says, his voice steady and strong. “And still much more work to do. I don’t want to keep you cooped up in here watching me go mad. It’s a beautiful day, darling. Why don’t you go take in some of that lovely sunshine we’ve been blessed with, and I’ll work on finishing up here.” I bite my lip, my eyebrow raised in question, but I hold back my protest. Sherlock is a busy man. I’ve always known that. He never blatantly tries to ignore me or keep me otherwise occupied. So I nod, giving him a soft smile. I lean in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Okay, my love, please try not to go too crazy, will you?” I giggle. The request earns me a chuckle, and he looks up briefly to meet my gaze as I move to leave his study. 

“I shall do my best, my darling.” He says before turning back to his work, leaving me alone again with my thoughts. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right; as always, I shouldn’t waste away in this flat waiting for him to finish his work. 

So I do head out to town for a while. I walk the streets of downtown London in the warm spring air, breathing life into me. I stop at the market to see what fresh flowers they’ve got. Baker Street could certainly use a touch of color, and I know Sherlock won’t mind. After picking out a few bunches, my basket full of florals, herbs, and a few baked goods, I make my way back to the flat. It’s late afternoon now. I busy myself arranging the flowers in vases and putting away my other goods. 

I still haven’t heard a sound from Sherlock. Peeking my head into his study, I see he’s still right where I left him. I sighed and shook my head. With nothing better to do I join him in his study. I scan his shelves for something to read, it’s been one of our favorite ways to spend quiet time together lately. Lying together in the garden, reading our respective stories. I look over at him again; still lost in his work, he’s probably barely even noticed my presence. Finding a story that is a particular favorite of mine I curl up on the chaise and open the book. 

This may not have been nearly as good an idea as I’d thought. Since I woke this morning, I’ve been craving Sherlock's affections. Sitting so close now, only to be ignored and left unnoticed, has only annoyed me. I let out a huff, sitting up and looking over at his desk… nothing. I sigh and turn back to my book. I lie back, settling in again, struggling to get comfortable. Another hour passes. Or at least it feels like an hour. I suppose I can’t be sure. And I feel as if I’m going to go insane. I let out a groan of frustration.

“Not enjoying the story?” He asked, a smirk on his lips. He’s far too smart to believe that is the source of my plight. I pull back from my book far enough for him to see me roll my eyes, and he chuckles. “I do so love watching you squirm.” He says with a dark glint in his eye. And finally, he lays down his pen and slams his book shut. I raise an eyebrow at him, not daring to speak a word, but my eyes are full of challenge. 

“I was hoping to spend a nice relaxing evening with you, my darling,” he teases. “But seem’s you needs an attitude adjustment.” He’s standing behind me, his breath hot on my ear as he purrs. “Am I going to have to fuck it out of you darling? Or are you going to apologize for being so bratty and impatient?” My mouth goes dry, and my body is suddenly on fire. 

“S-sherlock.” I gasp. “I- my love, I didn’t intend to … I-” I stutter, trying to find the words, but it seems all competent thoughts have left me. This is just how he wants me. This is exactly what I meant, Sherlock is no angel. He likes to play dirty. Make me flustered and shy and needy. He won’t stop until I’m begging. Nothing gives him more pleasure than making me tell him all the dirty things I’d love him to do to me. All it takes is a look, and he has me melting. And as annoyed with him as I am for turning me into a brainless, incompetent, desperate woman. He knows this is exactly what I’ve been needing all day. 

He chuckles and steps around the sofa, standing in front of me. He takes the book from my hands, tossing it to the side. He leans over me, a primal look in his eye as his knee gently parts my thighs and he hovers over me on the sofa. 

“What didn’t you intend to do, my love? Hmm? Did you not intend to huff and pout for my attention? Is that it?” He smirks, nipping playfully at my ear as he chuckles darkly.  “You just forgot your words, didn’t you darling, just forgot how to ask properly. It’s alright, my sweet. I’ll remind you.” He purrs his lips trailing down my jaw and neck as his tongue traces my collar bone. 

“I’m sorry, my love.” I pant, my chest heaving. Instinctively, I tilt my head back to allow him better access. He lets out a feral growl, and his hands squeeze my hips possessively as he starts to explore my body with his touch. 

“Oh, I know you are my sweet. And I’m going to give you the attention you so badly need.” He smirks, his hands slide under my skirt gripping my thighs, a low growl escaping him as he kisses my neck. I let out a soft needy moan my body arching into his my thighs naturally spreading to make room for him. He chuckles his breath tickling my skin where he’s biting at my collarbone. 

“Still so impatient; you haven’t learned your lesson, have you my darling?” he cradles my face in his hands, kissing me passionately. His tongue explored my mouth as we kissed. When he pulls back, he grabs my wrist, nearly dragging me off the chaise. Before I can begin to fall, he catches me, holding me against his chest. “Now what should I do with you?” He purrs. I look up at him, my eyes blown wide with lust and desire. 

“Sherlock, please,” I begged, my voice weak and pathetic. He lets out a low growl that I can feel deep in his chest. He grabs me around the waist, picking me up he holds me tightly with one arm as the other sweeps the papers from his desk.  He sets me down and steps between my parted thighs.

“Please what, my love? Hmm?  Ask for what you want darling.” He teases his hand, slowly creeping up my thigh again. his fingers graze the fabric of my panties, and my breath hitches. 

“I-I can’t.” I blush, biting my lip. Sherlock chuckles his other hand gripping my chin to make me look at him. 

“Yes, you can, sweetheart. You’ve had those filthy little desires playing in your head all day. And I want to hear every detail,” he growls. My breath catches in my throat as I hold his gaze. 

“T-touch me,” I beg and grab his wrist, pressing his fingers more firmly against my core. “Here, please,” I whine. Sherlock lets out another low growl, capturing my lips in a searing kiss as he starts to slowly rub me through my panties. I whimper and arch into his body. 

“So wet already. You’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He smirks, and finally, he slips his fingers beneath the fabric of my panties, pushing two inside me, curling them as he starts to pump them in and out. I let out a desperate mewl, my hips moving, grinding on his hand. He moves his thumb to rub circles on my clit. He smirks as he watches my face contort with pleasure.  “That’s it, my love. So beautiful when you’re like this. So desprate for my affection. He adds a third finger and pumps them faster, curling them just right so I’m seeing starts. My hands come up to clutch his shirt, my thighs shaking and head falling back, letting out a needy moan. My walls clamp around his fingers gushing on his hand. 

“Oh sherlock!” I whimper, panting as I come down from my orgasm. 

“That was beautiful sweetheart,” He smiles, kissing me tenderly. “We’re far from done. You know that, don’t you?” he teases. I giggle, nodding shyly. Without further preamble, he tears open my blouse, his eyes raking over me hungrily. He tears off his own shirt, tossing it aside, and cups my face, kissing me passionately. He gently pushes me back, laying me back on the desk, his lips trailing down my body. He stops when he gets to my breasts squeezing them softly and leaning down to capture my nipple in his mouth sucking and flicking with his tongue. I moan loudly, my back arching, pushing my breast further against his mouth. 

He groans sucking soflty and then swithing to give attention to the other breasts. He shoves up my skirt, bunching it around my waist, and then fumbles with his zipper. 

“I can’t wait be inside you,” He moans. I gasp as I feel the thick head of his cock brush through my folds

“My love, please, I need to feel you filling me. Make me whole.” I beg. With a feral growl, he surges forward, sheathing himself inside my tight heat. He lets out a groan, giving me only a moment to adjust before he sets a punishing pace. 

“Fuck,” He moans. “You’re so tight, so perfect, darling. Is this what you needed, my sweet? To be filled and taken. Reminded who you belong to?” I nod and let out a breathy moan. He pulls my leg up around his hip and drives into me deeper. The angle allows him to hit that perfect spot deep within me. My eyes roll back, and I feel myself climbing to my high. 

“My perfect girl,” sherlock praises his as he brings his thumb between us to rub my clit. My body shakes beneath him as he captures my lips in another searing kiss.” Thats it, my love. Let go,” he coos. “Let me feel all your pent up desire and love as you cum for me.” he encourages. I feel my pussy spasming on his cock and he growls “Good girl,” With those words I tumble over the edge my toes curling my head falling back gushing on his cock as my body trembles with pleasure. 

“Sherlock!” I cry out as my orgasm crashes over me and he fucks me through it. I feel his hips start to falter and he takes my hand pinning my wrists to the desk as he fucks me, his breathing ragged as he lets out a string of incoheart praises. 

“Yes,.. fuck.. You’re perfect, my love. Gonna fill you with my seed… such a good girl for me. Take it all, darling.” He growls in my ear, his body going stiff as he releases inside me. His hips jerk softly as he works himself through his orgasm. 

We stayed like that for a moment, our bodies connected and whole. With a soft groan, Sherlock stands and slowly pulls out of me. He takes my hand, helping me sit up on the desk. He cups my face and peppers it with kisses, pulling back and searching my face for any sign of discomfort. “Are you alright, my love?” He asked, his voice soft and tender. I nod a satisfied smile on my lips.

“Yes darling, I’m perfect.” I giggle. “I am sorry for being such a brat when I’m being needy.” I blush, ducking my head to tuck myself against his chest. Sherlock chuckles. 

“I know you are, my sweet. the truth is.” He says with a slight smirk in his voice. “I quite enjoy it, I was finished with my work hours ago. But I do so enjoy watching you squirm.” He winks.

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