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holylulusworld · 5 months ago

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Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (5)

Summary: Your marriage starts rocky.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

Warnings: angst, shy reader, fluff, innocent reader, protective/possessive Sherlock, fingering, smut, unprotected sex, first time, creampie, breeding kink (a hint), degrading (namecalling)

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

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (4)

Mrs. Sherlock Holmes masterlist

His large hand pressed against your untouched petals. You whimpered, in need, an unknown heat spreading through your abdomen. You felt hot and started to rock your hips, rubbing yourself against his fingers.

Sherlock watched you desperately moving your hips, faster, and faster until he took his hand away. You cried out, hands grasping for his wrist to keep him from taking away his touch.

He purred your name and teased you for turning into a whore within a few moments. Your eyes watered because he didn’t give you what you wanted. Your lips wobbled and you choked out a sob.

“Do you want to fulfill your wifely duties now,” he whispered and nipped at your earlobe. Sherlock tugged at your ear shell, making you whine. “Say it, wife.”

“I want—” you sniffled. What you wanted; you didn’t know. In the books you read there wasn’t more than kissing and waking next to their lover the next day. What happens in between, you didn’t know for sure. “I want you to fulfill your husbandly duties.”

Sherlock growled before he rolled on top of you. Just then you realized he was bare. His chest pressed against your heaving breasts, and his lips, those dangerous pillows pressed against yours. He shoved his tongue past your parting lips to lick into your mouth.

Your eyes widened. This wasn’t the way a gentleman kissed his wife. No. It was so much more. He devoured your mouth while shoving your nightie up to your waist, baring your most precious secret to him. Sherlock settled between your legs, spreading your quivering thighs for him.

“Your mine to devour, and claim. No one can have you,” he growled the words as you stared up at the beast your husband turned into. His lips claimed yours again, a little softer this time. “I’m going to fulfill my husbandly duties now, wife. You’re going to come on my cock only.”

Your eyes widened. For months you wished he’d take you like the lovers in the books you read, but suddenly you panicked a little.

What if he didn’t like touching you? What if you did something wrong? What if you couldn’t make him fill you with his seed?

His eyes bored into yours when he kneeled between your legs. He smirked before pressing one finger against your untouched opening.

“Husband,” you breathlessly whimpered. You didn’t know what he was up to until he slowly pushed his finger into your cunt.

“This is mine,” he started to move back and forth, eyes never leaving your face. “Say it.”

“It’s yours…”

“Again…” Sherlock slipped his finger out of your cunt, only to press two inside, now scissoring you open. “Say it, wife!”

“It’s yours…Sir,” you whimpered, earning a deep guttural growl. “Only yooours….”

His fingers left you empty and wanting. He was suddenly back on top of you, his mouth stealing another kiss. You didn’t know if you should do something or lie still.

“You are mine, that’s right,” he growled, his eyes black with lust. You could only nod because you felt something bigger than his fingers poke at your entrance. Holding your breath, you looked up at him, feeling his shaft slowly slide into you.

“Sher-lock,” you babbled his name. “It’s too much.”

“I know, my love,” he whispered and kissed the tears running down your cheeks away. He slowly moved back and forth, but it still hurt when he tried to push further. “It will only hurt for a moment.”

His lips soothed your discomfort. Sherlock murmured gentle words while pressing into you. He panted against your lips when he was finally fully sheathed inside your cunt.

He gently cupped your face with one hand to kiss you deeply, and softly. Sherlock gave you time, to just feel his cock inside of your now spread-out pussy. “There you go, my love. You’re doing so well for me.”

You didn’t know if he told the truth. His huge shaft pressed against your wall, and all you could do was trust his words.

He smiled, before kissing you again.

“This is the tightest and sweetest cunt I ever ruined,” there was a smirk on his lips, and his eyes full of mischief. “You will scream my name tonight, wife. And tomorrow night, and every night from now on.”

You shuddered under his hungry gaze. His grin almost wolfishly he dug his knees into the mattress and started to rock his hips. Back, and forth, back and forth.

His thrusts were powerful enough to make you scream at the sheer force. It still hurt, but something else joined the pain. A pressure built in your abdomen, and warmth spread through your body.

“You will take me any time of the day from now on,” he growled against your already kiss-swollen lips. “That’s where you belong, wife. Underneath me, full of cock like the tainted whore you are.”

Something snapped in you. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waistline and your arms around his back. Holding tight onto him for dear life. He was relentless and got faster and faster.

“Fuck, this cunt is going to be the death of me.”

You whimpered at his crude words. He called you whore, slut, and something you didn’t understand while ramming into you harder.

“I want you to come on my cock. Now! You’re my wife, my whore, and I will paint you with my seed.”

“Sir…Sherlock,” you mindlessly babbled while raking your nails over his back. And then, something happened. Pleasure. Pure pleasure forcing tears to spring free. “SIR!”

“That’s it, my love, my whore…my perfect wife,” he growled before kissing you hard. Warmth filled your cunt, and you whimpered against him, fearing you did something wrong. “Fuck, my child will grow inside this perfect womb, and I’ll fuck another into you while you carry it.”

Sherlock buried his face in your neck and collapsed on top of you. His cock remained inside, still spreading you wide.

“Sherlock?” You murmured.

“Perfect, my love. You were so good for me, wife,” he whispered against your sweaty skin. “I can’t get enough of this cunt, I’m afraid, you got me addicted.” You sighed when he finally pulled out to wrap you in his arms, allowing you to rest. “Sleep, my love. I’ll run you a bath.” He softly spoke to you and kissed your temple. “My beautiful wife.”

You soon find out that Sherlock’s hunger is insatiable.

Only hours after he took your flower, he had you again. This time he bent you over the desk at his study, telling you to hold tight onto the old furniture.

He shoved your skirts up, and slid into you from behind, growling your name as you wiggled underneath him. His thrusts were as powerful as ever as he pushed into you.

“This is mine,” he growled and leaned over your body to whisper filthy words in your ear. To your shame, you got wetter with every crude word. Your mother would’ve been ashamed of you for enjoying being called a whore, and that you’re only a slutty hole he can stuff. “No one is going to touch you. You’re mine.”

“Husband—” you whimpered, mortified because his brother Mycroft stepped inside the study. Your brother-in-law covered his eyes and retreated in a hurry.

“He needs to learn his place,” Sherlock whispered in your ear, a smirk in his voice. “You’re my wife, and he won’t interfere with our marriage ever again.”

Lips quivering you gave in to the pleasure your body greedily accepted. Your eyes filled with tears you feared your brother-in-law would now believe you’re no better than the painted ladies offering their service in dark alleys.

“Brother, that was more than inappropriate!” Mycroft yelled loud enough for you to hear his words at the library. “How could put your lovely wife in such a position.”

“That’s right,” Sherlock possessively growled. “She’s my wife, and I take her in any position I want to.”

“Sherlock, you know that’s not what I meant. I know about wifely duties, and that you always had a stronger libido than it was good for you. But she’s a lovely and innocent flower. You cannot…”

Sherlock only smirked.

“My beautiful flower is not of your concern.” He stepped closer to his brother to glare down at him. “You will only address her as Mrs. Sherlock Holmes from now on, and only when I’m around. I saw the way you looked at her. She’s my wife, my love! I love her, and you cannot threaten our luck!”

Your heart fluttered at Sherlock’s words. It was the first time he admitted he loves you in front of someone else.

“Brother, I only want you to treat her with respect and love!”

“I do,” Sherlock bit back. “How I fulfill my husbandly duties to produce an heir is none of your concern either. Not everyone only wants to put their seed in a woman’s womb. I want to hear her scream, whimper, and moan because I make her feel so good. This is nothing to discuss with my brother, though.”

“Just never mention it again,” Mycroft lowered his voice. “Sherlock don’t overdo it. She’s still an innocent flower. You cannot mount her like some animal.”

Sherlock smirked, remembering how you begged him for more and praised his name before his brother stepped inside the room.

“Husband.” You get up from the chaise longue and put the book you read aside. “How was your brother’s visit.”

“Short-lived,” he replied, eyes drifting toward the book you read. “The Romance of Lust.” He mused, making your heart drop. “I see you have developed an appetite too.”

“I’m sorry, husband…”

He chuckled, deep and rich. “What did arouse you while reading this book?”

“He—” You shook your head, unable to tell him about the young man kissing a woman’s cunt with his lips.

“I read the book a long time ago.” He lifted your chin with his index finger. “Would you like me to put my mouth on you too?”

You nodded eagerly, already tugging at his trousers. “Please, Sir.”

“Sherlock. You will call me Sherlock from now on,” he purred and claimed your lips in a soft kiss. “Let’s get you comfortable and see if your other lips taste as good as these…”

Part 6

Tags in reblog.

#sherlock holmes #henry cavill is sherlock holmes #smut #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x wife!reader #sherlock holmes x you #x reader #sherlock holmes smut #Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (5)

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maximsdeadwife · 2 years ago

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The Experiment

Sherlock Holmes x reader

Masterlist

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

Author's notes: See if you can spot the line I included from a Sherlock Holmes story as a nod to Victorian Sherlock… I used a few Victorian terms in this to make it authentic, so on the off chance that you're an historian specialising in Victorian dirty talk, please be kind 😉. This is written with any Victorian Sherlock in mind, but leaning toward Henry.

Warnings/content: nsfw, shameless smut, 18+, f!reader, reader has a vagina, dirty talk (but make it Victorian), first time, marriage, breeding kink, fingering, cream pie, cunnilingus, overstimulation, discussion of safe word, mentions of blow jobs, dom Sherlock if you squint, mentioned aftercare

Marrying a gentleman like Sherlock, there was no surprise that when it came to matters of the marital bed, he was technically as inexperienced as you.

You had been delighted to learn that he had a tendency to live slobbishly from time to time despite scrubbing up exceptionally well; neglecting his hair, sleeping in, wearing his dressing gown all day, not bothering with trifles like what time you ate dinner or who was calling in when his organised chaos took over your home (especially if it was his brother Mycroft).

You were also pleased that he wasn’t a prude — in his line of work you supposed it would be difficult to be completely prudish — because you felt you could comfortably be yourself around him, which seemed such a rare treat for a woman living in these days.

But the one thing you were utterly surprised by, was the way he spoke to you about sex. And even more surprising; how completely crazed he seemed for you. It went against everything you expected of him while courting, and definitely against everything that the general public would ever imagine of him.

Always treating you entirely properly, you’d expected an awkward and perhaps uncomfortable encounter upon consummating your marriage, sure that he would not have time or care for physical affection, especially since he usually displayed such an obvious aversion to the touch of others.

On the contrary, he seemed to have a great deal of confidence as well as an intricate insight into the topic, even upon your first time together. His approach set every nerve in your body aflame before sating you completely and providing a generous offering of his pearly seed to establish itself in your belly.

When you found yourself atop your newly shared bed, at first you worried your ankles may be revealed as your dress lifted above your boots, but he didn’t seem at all phased. You supposed people did see one another in the nude once they were married, and although the thought had been eating away at your nerves, but Sherlock didn’t seem nearly as on edge, which went a long way to soothing your worries.

You’d seen this look of his before. His sparkling eyes devoured you as though you were a new and exciting mystery to be solved, and knowing him as you did, he would no doubt be filled with drive fit for a thorough investigation.

‘Do not worry, darling, I shan’t strip you of your beautiful dress just yet,’ he soothed, caressing your cheek before shedding himself of his jacket and loosening his ascot. ‘Let us start slow, we do have all night after all.’

He moved down to sit beside where you laid upon the bed, and his fingers worked to remove your boots, sending shivers tingling up your legs as his flesh eventually brushed against yours.

You watched him carefully as he rolled his sleeves up, wondering what on earth he was preparing for. You began to feel entirely like one of his experiments, and you supposed that in a way, since this was his first time too, you were. The thought made your lips curl in amusement and your heart race.

‘Have you researched sex, Sherlock?’ you asked bashfully as he lifted your skirts further and ran his fingertips, featherlight and only slightly shaky, up along the contours of your inner thighs.

Gently, he pushed your legs apart, fingers hooking under the soft fabric of your bloomers as that gorgeous curl loosened to fall over his forehead.

‘Of course I have,’ he said simply, still entirely focussed on contributing to your growing arousal. ‘One cannot possibly get something of such delicate balance down to an exact science without sufficient data… just like one cannot perform an exact art without practise. And practice, we shall…’

Your cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson at the imagery of him studying indecent books with your pleasure in mind. You were overcome with an unusual desire to squeeze your thighs together, but ignored it in favour of feeling entirely safe in his apparently capable hands. Hands that were slipping your bloomers down past your knees and dropping them unceremoniously to the floor.

His fingers began to explore your slick folds, not at all helping to cool the red hot blush that powdered your cheeks.

‘Oh, how I’ve dreamed of bedding you, my darling,’ he breathed, settling properly beside you on the bed. ‘I’m going to satisfy you in ways you cannot fathom. Don’t be shy, you’re doing so well for me.’

Your unexpected cry of pleasure tore through the otherwise silent room, his finger now slowly pumping in and out of your heat. You gripped his arm as if holding on for dear life, fearful that you might otherwise float away in this unexpected haze of bliss.

‘You feel like silk,’ he praised, voice weakening slightly. ‘That’s it, hold on to me, you’re safe. You’re going to come on my fingers first, my needy little minx. Focus on how they fill you, how they caress your inner walls. Does it excite you as it excites me?’

You nodded. Your mind was fuzzy with pleasure like you’d never known, so much so that answering verbally seemed a certain impossibility.

‘I have fantasised about taking you on my fingers,’ he whispered, low and deep into your ear, ‘how divine you would sound as you give in to your pleasure, my name slipping hungrily from between those pretty lips.’

He removed his finger then, and a whine of protest erupted from somewhere within you. You just felt so empty without his elegant digit sliding in and out of your swollen entrance, dragging against something inside that made you absolutely ravenous for more — but a new sensation soon took over and you felt disappointed no longer.

His slick coated fingers dragged up through your folds and you shuddered, all the nerve endings in your body, it seemed, set alight at once. But when he reached the throbbing nub at the apex of your sex, there was suddenly ten times the bliss you’d felt before and your body jolted upward as your scream pierced the room.

‘Ah, it seems it’s not so hard to find after all,’ he said casually, ‘I summised that most men were simply to lazy to bother with this little trick, and perhaps I was onto something. But look at you darling, how you tremble for me while I massage your pretty, soaked flower. What man wouldn’t want to witness their love so utterly wanton for their touch? To feel her blatant arousal at his very fingertips?’

Your mind had turned all but blank, the sensations shooting through your body overwhelming you as his fingers danced with perfect pressure against your clitoris.

‘Sh-Sherlock- I- oh!’

‘I know, darling, I know, you need to come for me, don’t you?’

Swiftly, he pressed his thumb to your clit and slipped a finger easily back inside, fucking you harder and faster than before, watching with delight as you unravelled beneath him.

As the lewd slapping of his fingers fucking into your sopping sex filled the room he, quite pragmatically albeit with a much darker voice than that which he uses during his usual experiments, talked you through your release.

‘This pleasure will soon overwhelm you, culminating in your orgasm. If all goes to plan, your quim will rapidly clench around my finger and there’ll be something like sparks at your clitoris, then you’ll feel a few moments of indescribable ecstasy...’

Your own fingers snapped around his wrist, feeling his steady yet vigorous movements, and you wondered how on earth anything could feel better than this, right now.

And then it hit.

‘Ah, yes, there it is. That’s it! Yes, come for me! Come for me!’

His name did indeed tear from your parted lips, shaky and breathy and desperate, and then his fingers began to slow, easing you down from your high until he gently withdrew them.

Your eyes closed as you relaxed back against the pillows, your legs shaking. You heard a humming sound that pulled you back to the present, though, and glanced across at your husband to see him gleefully sucking your slick from his fingers.

‘It is frankly a disservice to the entire human race to consider that act depraved. Mmh. And you taste like the sweetest nectar, darling... tell me, did it feel good?’

You nodded, biting your lips together.

‘There’s no shame in it, my love. Especially if it feels good.’

‘It felt exquisite,’ you breathed, punctuated with a blissful sigh, and Sherlock smiled broadly. A rare sight. ‘But what about you?’

‘I do not wish to rush you. I will be truthful, however — after watching that beautiful display, my root is as solid as a rock. Whilst I've no intention of pressuring you, I will not turn you down if you’re sure you feel sufficiently ready for me.’

‘I… I think I do,’ you whispered, and you loosened your grip from the layers of your skirt to rest a hand delicately on the broad expanse of his chest.

He gasped at the simple affection, and the reaction caused your lower lips, still throbbing with the after effects of your climax, to quiver.

‘May I?’ you asked carefully, and he nodded. Your hand trailed down gradually, until it reached his lower stomach.

Sherlock’s breath quickened, and you pushed lower still, cupping his erection.

‘Ah- ohhh-’

His eyebrows raised and his eyes fell closed as you stroked his length softly and slowly, but before you could find a proper rhythm, he quickly snapped his hips away, grabbing your hand firmly in his as he leant in to kiss you with fierce passion.

As he pulled away from your lips, he muttered, ‘I hoped to inject you with my seed, but I fear that if you continue touching me for a moment longer, the only thing filled with it will be my undergarments.’

‘Then please, Sherlock, take me-’

And take you, he did. Within a second you were pushed onto your back, and he was settling between your legs, hurriedly unfastening his trousers to release his steadily leaking arousal.

As he carefully pushed himself into you, your warmth enveloping his length, an expression of sheer bliss relaxed his handsome features.

‘Am I too big, darling?’ he panted. ‘Does it hurt?’

‘No- please, don’t stop, Sherlock, I want to be filled with your cock- filled to the brim with your blow-’

He smirked at your words. You mustn't be quite so innocent if you were using words like that.

Sherlock began to steadily roll his hips. Your core burned with an unusual pain, a pain that made you crave more.

His forehead pressed to yours, your hot breath mingling with his each time he thrust gently into you and let out a sweet little whimper.

‘I told you I’d- fantasised about- pleasuring you- ha- ahhh- I can’t deny- I’ve thought of many acts, some of which you might consider- mmh- indecent- but each flood of bliss I give to you is- ha- simply the perfect result of an experiment I’ve been dying to carry out since I met you, and- ohhh-’

His voice was so breathy and shaky now, you knew that he wouldn’t last much longer, but you wanted to give him a taste of how he’d made you feel. You wrapped your legs around his waist and dug your heels into his back, pulling him closer and signalling for him to go harder.

‘Do you- ohh- do you w-want my children, darling? Do you want me to- ah!- unleash my potent seed within these t-tender walls and- give you a child?’

‘I want nothing less,’ you breathed, thrilled at his words, and at that he snapped his hips unrelentingly, snaking a hand between your writhing bodies to massage your sensitive clit once again, and Sherlock relished in the moan his touch elicited.

‘Clever little- ohh- trick, isn’t it?’ he just about managed, and less than a second later, came with force inside you.

Your walls tightened, contracting around his thick cock to milk him of every last drop, your tightening walls taking him to a plane of existence he’d never before explored.

This orgasm felt different for you, you noted, and if either of you had been coherent enough to discuss the matter you were sure he would ask you to write it down and keep a record detailing those differences.

Nevertheless, your second peak was just as strong, and you fell weak once again as Sherlock’s seed dribbled onto your thighs and he rolled off you, panting.

‘Darling- that was- oh, it was-’ he muttered, half delirious. ‘You feel- good god, you feel-’

‘I came again,’ you admitted, proud this time, knowing it would please him.

‘I know. I felt it,’ he smirked, and then, almost as if he read your mind, ‘did it feel different?’

‘Yes,’ you chuckled.

‘Oh how wonderful! I should write a monograph on the matter. Only for your eyes of course — although it could benefit at least half of the population if there were more literature on women’s pleasure.’

‘So, a filthy love letter just for me, with a touch of the scientific?’

‘You understand me so well,’ he cooed, stroking your cheek. ‘This is precisely why I adore you.’ And suddenly, there was a sparkle in his eyes that you’d seen when he reached a breakthrough. ‘Tell me, have you ever heard of cunnilingus?’

You shook your head. ‘Not… really. I may have gleaned a… basic understanding-’

‘It’s precisely the act I mentioned may be considered indecent, but I would very much like the opportunity to try it with you.’

‘Tell me about it?’ you breathed excitedly.

‘Perhaps it would be easier to show you. Do you trust me?’

‘Yes. Do it,’ you said eagerly, hungry for as much as he was willing to give you.

‘Consider this another experiment… if you dislike it, you must tell me and I shall end it, however my understanding is that if it works, you will not be entirely in your right mind so we must set a code in place.’

‘How about a word that we don’t associate with sexual activities?’ you suggested.

‘Precisely. “Mycroft” it is.’

You burst into a simultaneous fit of laughter, until he silenced you with another, fervent kiss.

‘You might need to loosen your corset for this one. Providing three orgasms in restrictive clothing is no way to treat one’s wife. And what if there are four, or five? I would never forgive myself.’

Taking his advice, you began to strip, soon revealing your breasts to him.

‘Oh, darling, what a perfect start...’ He wrapped his lips around a nipple and sucked lightly, his fingers toying with the other. He was pleased to feel you squirm beneath him and jolts of pleasure shot from your chest to your core and back again.

‘Oh- I never knew they could- mmh- feel like that…’ you groaned, but once again he left you cold to move onto something new, shimmying lower to settle his face at the apex of your thighs.

His tongue lashed warm and wet against your sex, circling your nub, exploring your folds and lapping at your entrance to collect your combined juices.

The way you shuddered had him fighting off a second erection. Not now — he needed to concentrate, and was hoping that with this new method he could give you multiple orgasms in one sitting. His own pleasure could wait.

He hummed into your quim as though he were enjoying a long awaited meal, and you quickly fell apart once again as his hums of delight vibrated through your core.

‘Sherlock,’ you whined, ‘Oh, Sherlock…’

‘One more?’ Came his muffled response, his deep growl reverberating through your weakened body. It didn’t take long for another peak to take over, your mind completely clouded in a haze of overstimulation.

‘I think it’s time for a break now, my love,’ he muttered softly, coming up to hold you, his pretty lips coated in your juices. ‘I rather think that this has been an experiment I would take pleasure in repeating regularly, if you’ll allow me.’

‘I’d be delighted,’ you sighed dreamily, already feeling the pull of sleep.

‘I will also mention that, as soon as you’re comfortable enough, I would rather like to experiment with my own orgasms. See how they feel inside your hand… or your mouth…’

‘Yes, yes I would… I would like…’

‘Shh… for now, it’s time to sleep. Rest, my darling wife you’ve done so well for me.’

You nodded, and that was the last you remembered of the evening.

A thin blade of warm sunlight woke you in the morning. You found yourself comfortably wrapped inside his shirt. He’d cleaned you up after you drifted off to sleep, and you rose feeling refreshed and relaxed.

Creaking open the bedroom door, you heard his handsome voice floating through. He had a client, and when you peeked through the gap you could see that your husband looked impeccably well put together. Unlike you; if anyone saw you like this… you dreaded to think. You smiled to yourself, though, wondering what his stoic looking client would think if he knew what Sherlock had spent all night doing before meeting with him. You bet Sherlock could teach him a thing or two.

You could only hope this case would be too boring for him so he would return to your bed, for you entirely planned to take Sherlock into your mouth the moment you were able. To taste him. To give him as many releases as he had given you. To see him entirely, blissfully weakened by pleasure…

#not s f w 💀#sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes smut #sherlock x reader #sherlock smut #henry cavill sherlock holmes #victorian sherlock #henry cavill #sherlocksoft writes

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kanroji-san · 1 year ago

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This is most popular scene

But with Y/n

:) Happy New Year Everyone!!!

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sl-newsie · 2 months ago

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My strange coping method?

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cherryclxud · 8 months ago

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Catch me if you can, Lord Holmes pt1

(ENOLA HOLMES)!Sherlock x BRIDGERTON!reader

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Description: a writer by the name of Marcus Bradford has been writing a weekly updated crime story that appears in the newspaper and it is the talk of the ton. sherlock is then pulled in to uncover the mystery of the story of the abominable bride. will he be able to find the writer of this story who yet remains hidden from seemingly all of society?

word count: 3.8k

Warnings: none

read below for credits

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MARCUS BRADFORD WAS AN EXTRAORDINARY WRITER. He wrote books of fantasy, romance, and tragedies. But anyone who has read Bradford’s works will tell you his prized works were that of the thrilling crimes series that would be posted on the weekly newspapers on page 4. Yes, no one could deny that this was the reason he was the talk of the ton. Appearing out of seemingly nowhere, Marcus Bradford’s words made it into every household in London, whispers about the crimes written were on the tongue of the fanatics every passing day,

“Did you read what this man has written?”

“Did you see where he left this week's edition off?”

“How can the bride return when she so clearly shot her brains out in front of a whole street?”

“She returned and killed her husband then was found back at the morgue?”

It was a story where no one could see a true way to solve it, and so it kept everyone on the edge of their seat, that is…everyone but one.

Sherlock Holmes hated Marcus Bradford, and he hated his work. He was never a fan of fiction since fiction wasn't real and wasn't deducible, therefore he was never actually interested in anything this man was writing, but when all the clients asking for help seemingly came to him complaining that they wanted him to solve a fictional case written in a newspaper, that's when he would pick up the story to read and wasn't able to put it down till he had finished the latest edition of it. Two thoughts running through Sherlock Holmes’ head after putting the paper down, he hated fiction, and he hated Marcus Bradford.

The story was impossible to deduce anything out of, how could someone dead return? The bride quite clearly can't be who murdered her husband however the story clearly states that the husband had recognised her before his death. But she was in the mourge, how could the bride be in 2 places at once? How could she then continue to kill countless men after her funeral? Sherlock felt there were too many open ends and loose threads. Threads that only one person knew the ends of. Marcus Bradford.

But no one knew who Bradford was, no one had seen him before, in fact, he had never attended any soirees nor had any presence in the ton that anyone knew of. This opened a new case for Sherlock. Who is Marcus Bradford?

No one in the ton knew that Marcus Bradford was always under their noses.

In the prestigious house of the Bridgertons, y/n Bridgerton picked at the strings of her violin with a sigh. Mrs Wilson walked into the drawing room with the weekly news and a copy of today's Lady Whstledown, y/n watched as her younger sister Eloise snatched this week's paper out of the head maid's hands and quickly skipped to page 4, with an eye roll, y/n took the gossip sheet from Mrs Wilsons hand thanking her before pretending to skim over the paper. In truth y/n wasn't interested in the words of Lady Whistledown, she only ever tried to look out to see if ‘Marcus’ was ever mentioned. He was not. She dropped the sheet on the table before standing at the window and looking out.

“Can you believe it, another one?” Eloise spoke up not tearing her eyes from the sheet. Looking back at Eloise, y/n feigned confusion “Hmm, sorry what was that?

Eloise dropped the paper on her lap and looked blankly at the ceiling “Another man was murdered, all because the yard can't solve the case”

y/n picked the paper from Eloise and pretended to skim over it while hiding her smile, “Oh Eloise don't tell me you are going on about this stupid little story again, why not go read something more useful? Or try looking into who Lady Whisteldown is again, you loved that remember? This story doesn't seem to be doing anyone any good, and the writer seems to have hit a wall don't you think?”

Instantly Eloise turned her head to y/n and stood up walking to her, “no you don't get it, sister,” she snatched the paper from the elder girls hands and pointed to a line “See here it's different ‘The man’s face paled as he looked at the contents of the envelope, turning it over, four orange pips dropped unto the table’ see sister it’s strange, this man got a warning the others didn't. Something big must be coming y/n, something different.” she quickly took the paper and ran up to her room leaving y/n looking behind her.

In truth y/n was out of inspiration. Writing under the pen name Marcus Bradford, she had made quite the name for him, but she thought, perhaps she had gone too strong with the opening and now she was crashing, the seeds in the envelope was her quite literally reaching for straws at this point, trying to buy herself time hoping that some grand idea will hit her.

She was happy with all the attention her writing was gaining even if it was under a false name. She knew her stories would have gotten nowhere otherwise. She also knew that she couldnt keep writing forever, no matter how much she loved it. Her mother was on her back about missing many balls since her debut last year and that since Eloise’s debut this year, it’s harder taking care of two girls at once, especially two girls who cared more about books than looking to the men right in front of them.

It wasn't like y/n was not interested in romance at all, rather, she was actually quite the romantic, but she found no interest in the advances of the men of the ton, in fact she always compared the whole process to a birds mating ritual, all the dancing, and the reciting of poetry and the hundreds of flower bouquets and colours. no, she much preferred the romance on the paper she read, and quite often found herself daydreaming about the books she had read, maybe one day a pirate would take her to go treasure hunting together. Or maybe a past childhood friend she doesn't remember will profess his undying love to her and how he never forgot her all these years.

y/n scoffed at the thoughts she was having, “Maybe all I need is a change of perspective and scenery…I assume a ball will have to do then” She rolled her eyes before standing and going to look for her mother's whereabouts.

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IF YOU WERE LOOKING TO FIND SHERLOCK HOLMES, polite society would usually be the last place you would look. To Sherlok it is mundane and boring, and really there is no point in trying to connect with people whose knowledge and understanding end where yours begin. With this knowledge in mind, you can imagine how shocking it would be to the people of the ton when that very Wednesday Lord Sherlock Holmes was in the promenade with his younger sister in hand, they walked straight ahead ignoring all the stares they received. Enola could quite clearly see many desperate mamas pointing to Sherlock and whispering to their daughters. “You must remind me again Sherlock, why are we here?”

Sherlock stopped walking and unhooked his arm out of Enolas’ before looking around the park and then turning to her “I’m hunting”

“Hunting? In the promenade? Brother that's hardly quite safe” she spoke with a smirk before raising an eyebrow at her brother “Don't tell me you’re-... you're not hunting for a wife are you?”

This question made Sherlock momentarily stop looking around and then sigh “Really Enola think before you speak, honestly a wife out of any of the women here? Marrying a mannequin would be more productive, at least then it wouldn't throw stupid questions at me” he eyed a few women but quickly looked away uninterested “besides I doubt any of them can hold up any meaningful conversation with substance”

Enola rolled her eyes before swatting her brother's arms lightly with her fan “Don't be so easy to underestimate them all Sherlock you never know” She then walked ahead leaving him behind.

“Of course I know, I'm Sherlock Holmes”

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y/n sat on the chair under the umbrella with a fan in her left hand and a book in her right, skillfully managing to hold the book and turn the pages all with one hand, her mother sat by her chatting her ear off about some lord or other that had passed by, and all y/n could do was hum in absent agreement to please her mother when in truth she held no care for whatever lord she spoke of.

“y/n dear look theres lord manyard,” y/n looked just above her book at the lord her mother spoke of, truth be told he was appealing to the eyes but y/n knew better, she knew that he had been sweet talking almost every debutant in the ton, her eyebrow twitched into a semi frown when he caught her eyes. A wink and smirk were sent her way causing her to use every muscle in her body to not shiver with disgust, she could not however stop the massive eyeroll she did “i hear that he owns land and estates in the country and that he is even buying out oil factori-”

y/n lightly slammed her book in her lap and gave violet bridgerton a tightlipped smile, she knew her mother meant well and that she only wanted what is best for her, but it was getting hard to see her mothers disappointment at every rejection she made, “Mama, where perchance did eloise go? I did have something quite important i needed to discuss with her”

Violet sighed but pushed no further “well yes I suppose sitting here will do you no good, last i saw her she was on the promenade trail with Penelope, will you be alright on your own or should I send Anthony with you?”

y/n had already gotten up and adjusted her dress “No it's quite alright I think I’ll be fine on my own” and with that, she made her way in the direction her mother pointed to only to be stopped by a bunch of little kids running past her throwing confetti at each other, unfortunately, some got caught on her dress so while she walked she busied herself with clearing the tiny squares of paper off of her. As such in cliche stories and books, she wasn't looking in front of her causing her to bump into someone who equally wasn't looking where they were going.

Both parties' priorities regaining their balance before looking to the person in front of them, and looking up y/n noticed a girl about her age looking back at her “Please accept my apologies I wasn't focused on where I was going”

The girl quickly shook her hands in front of her “No no please you must apologise i also wasn't aware of my surroundings as I walked so if anything I'm equally at fault here”

Y/n smiled at the girl in front of her and gave her a small nod, then suddenly thought…what now, the girl was looking at her almost expectantly, y/n wasn't sure if she should say something or just walk away, but she had already stood there for too long in silence to suddenly walk away, but on the other hand what does she say?

“Enola”

Y/n raised her eyebrows “Sorry?”

“Enola Holmes… that's my name if you wanted to know” y/n raised her eyebrow at the familiar-sounding name. Enola extended her hand to y/n to shake.

“OH… oh I see yes, very nice to meet you Enola, I'm y/n Bridgerton” She then grabbed Enola's hand and shook it too as they smiled to each other.

“I must say Enola I haven't seen you in the promenade before…or at any soirees or some such thing” y/n spoke as she looked around.

Enola nodded as she brought her head up to her forehead “Yes well, I don't usually come out, I'm usually around my brother and he really doesn't care for the affairs of the ton so we rarely actually leave Baker Street”

Y/n tilted her head “I see, then what seems to have prompted today's outing?”

Enola linked her arms in y/n as they started to walk “Well-” stopping midsentence the Holmes girl furrowed her eyebrows and lifted her chin as she tried to think “In all truthfulness, I haven't the faintest idea when I asked my brother he simply stated that he was hunting”

Y/n stopped midstep and looked to Enola in confusion, “Hunting? In the promenade? I doubt he'd be lucky getting any deer or game here” She laughed at the absurdity then a thought popped into her head “he's not..hunting for women is he?”

“Those were my exact words when I confronted him, however, if I know anyone it's my brother, he isn't interested in trivialities, ‘Enola, I’d rather marry a mannequin than a woman’ were his exact words to me” she spoke as she walked on with y/n and even deepened her voice as she quoted her brother, making y/n giggle at the absurdity.

“Quite the idealist he sounds like, lucky he is a man and gets to choose and not get judged upon it” y/n voiced her thoughts making Enola look at her “You quite right y/n, and it helps him that he is also the second son so no responsibility on his shoulder he is free to do as his heart desires”

Y/n and Enola both laugh before the latter girl notices her brother standing with a couple of gentlemen smoking cigars. She pointed at her brother and sighed “Had I known he had planned to throw me aside for his playmates I would have benefited more from staying at home”

Y/n looked in the direction she was pointing at and suddenly it was like it all clicked once she saw him, of course, how could she miss such an obvious thing “Your brother is Lord Sherlock Holmes?! Of course, how could I not realise it sooner.” She slapped her hand lightly on her forehead as she looked to Enola who nodded in response.

“Trust me y/n, not as fun as it sounds, my eldest brother gave my wardship to Sherlock since he is already busy as it is with family and estate affairs and ever since then Sherlock has been as busy as ever” she stuck her tongue out at sherlock who looked away from the group of men at his sister. His eyes quickly flickered to y/n but didn't linger as his attention returned to Enola before he too stuck his tongue out to her.

Y/n smiled at the sight of the two of them, they made her think of her own family “You complain yet you both seem inseparable, it's sweet, mine are over there” She pointed to where Anthony and Colin were standing with Hyacinth and Gregory playing with a hoop. Hyacinth threw it up and Anthony managed to hook his arm in it then bowed to the trio in front of him.

Enola giggled at the sight “My that is a lot of siblings how do you get a moment of peace to yourself?” causing the other girl to roll her eyes with a smile “I don't, and believe it or not there are 4 more” Enola’s jaw dropped before noticing that Anthony had apparently started approaching them, “it seems your brother wants you back I assume?”

“Not at all I'm just checking on my sister” he smiled at the two girls before directing his attention solely to his sister “sister I'm glad you are finally adjusting and meeting people that aren't on paper” y/n rolled her eyes before pushing Anthony's shoulder lightly “oh nothing makes you happy does it Anthony, I sit reclusively, I’ll become a spinster, I mingle with other people I'm suddenly to adventurous” they both laughed before the sister turned to Enola “Enola this is Anthony my brother, Anthony…this is Enola Holmes”

Anthony's eyebrows rose “Holmes? As in Sher-”

“Good day to you Bridgerton”

There is a saying, ‘Speak of the devil and he shall appear’, and it seems quite fitting to use right here seeing as the man who approached the group and spoke up at that moment was Sherlock Holmes himself.

Anthony stood straight and nodded with a straight face to Sherlock “Holmes.”

Both men looked at each other, like in a staring contest, both Enola and y/n raised their eyebrows in confusion, looked at each other then back at their brothers. Suddenly like it was synchronised both the men shook hands and pulled each other into a friendly hug.

“I'm sorry Anthony but it feels like there's some missing context here, you both looked like you were about to murder each other and yet now you are acting like old friends, which is it friend or foe?” Y/n crossed her arms as she looked at the two men

Anthony looked to Sherlock with a smirk “Definitely foe dear sister seeing as since his graduation Lord Holmes here didn't see it fit to send any correspondence any longer”

The younger Bridgertons eyes widened as she looked to the older Holmes “You knew Anthony during his study?”

Sherlock nodded “We studied at Oxford at the same time, I studied chemistry and your brother focused on history and literature or some such thing”

Anthony coughed looking away quickly “Lord Holmes here was 1 year my senior and was booked in a flat with Hastings and I, of course, he valued his complete privacy so while he got the single bigger room in the flat me and Bassett had to share” he spoke with an eye roll.

It was Sherlock's turn to clear his throat and look away “Yes…how is Bassett… well I assume I must respectively call him the duke now”

Y/n who had felt that she and Enola had been quite forgotten now spoke up before Anthony could “Yes he is quite well, dukedom fits him rather well”

Sherlock turned to the younger Bridgerton “Is that so? I see you have become acquainted with the duke” making the girl smirk “But of course hard not to when my sister is quite literally married to him”

“I see…”

“So Holmes” Anthony spoke up clapping his hands together to divert the conversation “you never promenade what has changed? Finally thinking of settling down?”

“He's hunting” Enola spoke up.

Sherlock looked to his sister with a sigh before meeting the confused face of the Bridgertons and before they could speak up with any accusations he decided to clear his name.

“Not hunting persay, more scouting. I'm looking for the Bradfords”

It seemed as though time stopped around them, the two Bridgerton siblings and Enola’s eyes widened and y/n’s fan stopped mid-swing, the silence was heavy but was burst when Anthony quickly started laughing.

“Holmes, surely you jest, don't tell me you too have been ensnared by a small column of fiction like the rest of the ton” he spoke and was quickly followed by Enola who expressed that he constantly refused to read it and that he could possibly just be joking.

Y/n looked at each person and stepped back to watch how this would play out.

“I assure you I do not jest or joke, I have received many clients coming to me with this case and it can only be solved if I find this Marcus Bradford himself” Sherlock frustratedly spoke while looking to his sister and old friend.

Enola raised an eyebrow before addressing her brother once more “And…what case might that be Sherlock?”

Suddenly as Sherlock looked to the three stood before him, his eyes flickered between them as he embarrassingly spoke. “The case of the abominable bride.”

Y/n tried so hard but couldn't hold in the laughter causing it to come out as a snort more like. Most unladylike and in fact unhelpful seeing as Sherlock's embarrassment now turned to frustration and annoyance.

The girl quickly realised her mistake and apologised with a smile, “It's just you'd think you of all people wouldn't waste your time with a storybook”

Anthony was quick to scold his sister lightly then turned to Sherlock “I am not sure why you are doing this Holmes but…if it helps there is no Marcus Bradford in the ton, trust me people have looked.”

Sherlock nodded solemnly while looking around the ton slowly “I see… well then we had best be on our way then, it was nice seeing you and meeting your sister Anthony”

Anthony nodded and bid the Holmes' farewell as Enola promised she would write to y/n. As the two families split away and started walking away, y/n suddenly stopped and stood back and waited for Anthony to keep walking and not notice before quickly walking back to the Holmes siblings.

“Lord Holmes!” she called out to him, Sherlock and Enola turned to y/n as she stopped in front of them and took a moment to regain composure. “You know Lord Holmes… I have a pet cat named Minnie”

Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as to why he was being told this, then the Bridgerton spoke up once more “She has this terrible terrible habit of loving the house a lot, and it drives me crazy looking for her but I think I have a technique down on how to catch her.” Sherlock still had no idea where this was going yet…something in him told him to humour the girl and give her his complete attention.

“I used to go to every maid and ask her if she had seen Minnie until I realised, really if I track down the most important places I'd be saving time and energy, so now… when Minnie runs off, I just go to the kitchens and wait… she will have to eat sometime and the kitchen staff know not to let her out after that.”

And with that y/n turned around and walked back to her family who were sitting under the umbrella.

“What was that about?” Enola spoke up when she noticed Sherlock was still looking at where y/n stood with a far-off look.

“A cat called Minnie…apparently”

y/n smirked as she watched Sherlock and Enola leave the promenade. If Sherlock Holmes wanted a wild goose chase, then who was she to deny him of it?

“Catch me if you can Lord Holmes” she spoke with a smirk

The game was truly afoot.

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I do not own Bridgerton

I do not own Sherlock or Enola Holmes

and I most certainly do not own the abominable bride story

they belong to their rightful owners.

I only own the fic idea.

@frost-queen

#bridgerton #sherlock holmes #sherlock x reader #enola holmes #enola and sherlock #bridgerton reader #bridgerton x reader #sherlock holmes fanfiction #crossover #fanfic #sherlock holmes x y/n #sherlock #imagine #bridgerton x enola holmes

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princezzleia · 3 days ago

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x reader she's like Barbie. she can be anything. she can be everything. she can do whatever I'm not dare to do in rl and she gotta choose her man. *sigh* Life've never been better.

#ao3 #ao3 fanfic #tumblr fanfic #joel miller x reader #din djarin x reader #francisco morales x reader #marcus acacius x reader #agent whiskey x reader #javier peña x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #jake seresin x reader #bob floyd x reader #bradley bradsaw x reader #august walker x reader #geralt x reader #clark kent x reader #sherlock holmes x reader

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inknopewetrust · 8 months ago

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BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM [he’s a fictional character that doesn’t exist]

IM HAVING HIS BABY [no I’m not because he’s a fictional character]

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milfloveer · 11 months ago

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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.

#sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes x fem!reader #sherlock holmes x y/n #sherlock holmes smut #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #henry cavill characters #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavil x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill #henry cavill x female reader

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that1geek06 · 2 months ago

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Me scrolling thru tags:

I just want a good fluff story 😔

Also me one hour into a deeply plotted smut that has an even dirtier part two:

YES!! GIVE ME MORE!! 😩😈

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ohrival1412 · 4 months ago

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"Shinichi and Hakuba after their Sherlock Holmes fanfictions are discovered" tHANKS FOR YOUR REQUEST HAHAH

@zaharex here are Hakuba E-8 and Shinichi G-8 !

#100 faces challenge #i know they would read Sherlock Holmes x Reader fanfiction #probably can also write some of them #kudo shinichi #hakuba saguru #dcmk #dcmk art #magic kaito #my art #khioart

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holylulusworld · 1 year ago

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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

#sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes x y/n #sherlock x reader #wife reader #female reader #innocent reader #Mrs. Sherlock Holmes masterlist

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poppyellwoodao3 · 7 months ago

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Sherlock, pointing: May I sit there? John: That's my lap Sherlock: That doesn't answer my question, John.

#sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock & co #sherlock fandom #sherlock x john #johnlock #john watson #221b baker street

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scrambledslut · 1 year ago

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when my phone storage is full and i start deleting memories instead of pictures of my favorite old men

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cherryclxud · 7 months ago

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Catch me if you can Lord Holmes pt2

(ENOLA HOLMES)!Sherlock x BRIDGERTON! reader

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Description: a writer by the name of Marcus Bradford has taken the Ton by storm with his weekly edition chapter of a crime story, Sherlock is tasked with finding Marcus Bradford and solving the case of the abominable bride. but what if meeting a certain Bridgerton girl distracts him from the case?

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: none

Taglist <3 : @frost-queen @siannaplmn @annesunlight @jolixtreesunn @probabydeadbynow @chloepluto1306 @gayandfairycore @queenfairyfangirl @viylikescats @hipsternerd9 @delusional-4-fake-people

read below for credits.

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SLEEPING AT 221B BAKER STREET USUALLY came easy to Enola. Seeing as there was quite literally very little for her to do, however, for the past 2 nights it has become increasingly difficult for her not to get out of bed and shout at her brother to put the violin down.

Sherlock was stuck, and Enola could tell by his incessant playing of the violin, the notes he was playing were all gloomy grey. With a sigh, she put her head under the pillow and slammed her hand over it to cover her ears in the hope of respite from the sound. Of course, for the first 4 hours he was playing Enola felt sympathy, but when his playing started to get in the way of her sleep that's when her sympathy towards Sherlock turned to contempt towards the violin.

She had reached the point where she imagined scenarios of her grabbing scissors and cutting the strings, or of her taking the violin and throwing it out the window.

Somehow the music playing seemed to penetrate through the pillow, making the girl move the pillow, turn to her back and glare at the ceiling. She got up and stomped the the drawing room where her brother sat there playing the insipid instrument.

“SHERLOCK” she shouted over the music causing her brother to play a wrong note before stopping and turning to her. “Enola? Shouldn't you be asleep by now?” he looked out the window and saw the moon still high in the sky.

Enola crossed her arms while rolling her eyes, “geez Sherlock that's a great idea, i was getting quite tired and had no idea how to remedy it, you have truly opened my eyes” Her voice was full of sarcasm yet Sherlock paid no mind to it as he was distracted.

“Hmm yes well I suppose you should get to it”.

Enola scoffed as she saw her brother pick up the violin about to resume his playing once more “Sherlock! I can't if you insist on playing at this time.” she pointed to the instrument as the older Holmes looked down at it with a sigh.

“Ah, I see, my apologies sister I seemed to have gotten carried away” he places the instrument on its stand before slamming it down on the settee with a sigh and closes his eyes as he continues to think.

Enola turns around, happy that the peace and quiet has finally infiltrated the home, she goes on her way to her room and just as she was about to go in she stops. She turns to look to her brother, she really felt pity for him at this point, losing sleep over looking for this man who could quite literally be anywhere in England.

“Sherlock, what's wrong?”

Sherlock opens his eyes and lifts his head to look at his sister. “Nothing Enola you should go to bed, I promise I won't play anymore”

He watches as his sister walks across the room only stopping at the coffee table to pick up his tobacco pipe and hold it in between her lips in thought. “Oh look at me I'm Sherlock and I must find out everything about everyone yet never let anyone find out anything about me” she spoke in a mock deep voice as she sat next to him.

HE leaned forward and snatched the pipe from her mouth before wiping the mouthpiece with his shirt. Enola watched as he lit the pipe with a match and smoked in silence, a frown etched on his face. She decided to change the subject hoping it would get her brother to open up more about what was bothering him.

“Y/n and i have been writing to each other”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow “y/n Bridgerton? The viscount's sister?” Enola nodded

“Yes we have been speaking since we met Nonestop, she is actually quite amusing.” Enola smiled recounting the letters they both shared. Sherlock rolled his eyes but deep inside was happy that his sister had found someone to be friends with. He was worried that his taking care of her had caused his disinterest in forging real connections with people had spread to her. He didn't want her to lean on him and not connect with anyone else.

He found himself grateful for y/n's sudden but effective presence in his sister's life.

“She's quite like you, you know?” Enola spoke looking nowhere in particular. This caught Sherlock's attention as he looked back to his sister, “How so?”

“Well for starters she's smart…well not as smart as you, no one as smart as you” Enola rolled her eyes before grabbing a small rubber ball she found lying on the floor and bounced it up and down a few times, “She reads a lot, she told me when her brother would return from oxford for the summer she would take the books he'd read and read and study his essays and annotations”

Sherlock, who was staring at the floor where the ball was bouncing, chuckled quietly remembering one year at Oxford when Anthony had returned from his stay with his family missing the book he was meant to be studying for the semester and sheets of essays he had worked on during the time off, and how frazzled he was trying to rewrite what he could from memory, only to have it delivered to him with a letter of apology from his sister later that night.

“You know she even read that boring book you wrote on like the two hundred and forty types of tobacco” she offhandedly spoke not noticing her brother's smile dropped “Two hundred and forty-three”

“I believe that that was the only copy sold brother mine,” she smirked

“I'll have you know I sold three copies” he grumbled looking away.

Enola laughed “That's because Mycroft and I each bought a copy in support of you”

Sherlock scoffed and stood up walking to the window and looked outside pretending to be angry at his sister.

“Oh don't sulk brother you know that doesn't work on me, the print shop refused to print any more copies of your books in advance, that's how bad it did.” She leaned back in her seat with a smirk, “She invited me to breakfast at Bridgerton house tomorrow, can you take me there?”

Sherlock turned with a nod “I can drop you off and th-” he stopped mid-sentence as an idea struck him, “what did you just say?”

Enola looked at her brother worried that he was too busy to take her “She invited me for breakfast tomorrow and I wish for you to take me there. If you are busy I can take a carriage so no worri-”

“No no before that”

Enola tried to replay the conversation “I told you not to sulk, then that the book you wrote won't get printed in advance any longer”

Sherlock then turned to face away and walked to his desk that was placed in the drawing room and picked up one of the many newspapers that were turned to page 4, turned to the back of the paper and read down the page till he reached what he was looking for.

‘Tibalt's Printing Press

5th Northumberland street

London’

Sherlock smiled looking down at the paper, “Of course, Minnie always ends up in the kitchen when she's hungry.”

Enolas eyes turn the the left as she racks her brain trying to think what in the world her brother is going on about, “pardon?”

She watched as her brother scribbled some writing on a piece of paper before marching to his pin board on the wall and sticking a pin through the newspaper set on the last page. He stepped back with a smile, Enola stood up from her seat and walked to her brother's side.

“Sherlock, is everything alright?”

The brother looked at her and nodded “It's perfect, all back on track thanks to your friend,” Enola raised an eyebrow.

“Y/n? How did she help? Wait where are you going this late?” She watched as her brother picked up his coat and the paper he scribbled on. He walked up to her and gave her a kiss on the top of her head.

“Don't worry dear sister, assuming all goes to plan I'll be back in time to take you to break your fast with the Bridgertons, sleep well!” And with that, he walked out of the flat door closing it behind him leaving Enola alone in the drawing room.

With a sigh she blew out the remaining candle that illuminated the room, her eyes stopped at the violin that stood defenceless in the room. A smirk found its way on her face as she looked back at the door making sure her brother wouldn't be back.

………….

THE CANDLE BURNED LIGHTING ONE corner of y/n's bed-chamber, her eyes fled over words on the page of the book she was reading, a new author writing under the title ‘A Lady’ had written a book named ‘Pride and Prejudice’, y/n was completely infatuated with the idea that the author had so boldly revealed that whoever she was, she was a woman.

Unlike Lady Whistledown, this writer resorted to writing harmless fiction that was incredible to read, and unlike y/n she was courageous enough to reveal she was a female, and yet it was a complete shame in y/n's eyes to see that the books didn't do as well as she thought it deserved.

She pulled her knees to her chest as she relaxed against the window, sitting on the window seat to be able to look outside easily. It had become her routine to sit at the window every night, therefore to anyone else seeing her wouldn't warrant any suspicion, but y/n wouldn't sleep until something in the scenery outside her window changed.

She just about turns to a new page when from the corner of her eye she sees a light flickering outside her window facing the garden, turning to look outside, she sees the figure of the personal valet of Anthony walking in the garden with a candlelit lantern, stopping mid-walk he turns to her window direction and then blows out his candle.

Y/n gave a smile and blew out her own candle, drowning out the last shred of light in her room, and stood up from her seat, shutting the book and placed it on her dresser. And with that, the valet walked back into the house leaving the girl to go to sleep peacefully.

…….

THE CARRIAGE WHEELS STOPPED IN FRONT OF THE printing shop letting Sherlock step out before paying the driver. The windows were illuminated by the candles inside the print shop, he watched as two men worked on the printing of the weekly newspaper.

Sherlock walked over to the door of the print shop and tried to push it open only to find it was locked closed, however, the attempt to open it had gained him the attention of the two men who looked at each other before turning to Sherlock.

The older one of the two motioned to the younger man to go deal with him as he went back to work. The younger man rolled his eye as he walked to the door and unlocked it before stepping out to stand face to face with the detective, “You know we don't get many people coming here that don't know how to read, this being a print shop and all”

Sherlock stared blankly, the man then pointed at the sign hanging in the window “It says closed, there I read it for you, come back in the morning” he then walked back inside but as he went to shut the door Sherlock stopped it with his foot causing the man to turn back to him.

“I'm here to find out about Marcus Bradford!”

The man tried to push Sherlock back “If you're a fan then you have no luck here, we only print what we get given.” managing to push Sherlock's foot out he went to slam the door only to once again get stopped but this time by his hand. Once the door was open again then holmes pulled his hand back in pain, shaking it to relieve the soreness.

“I'm a detective, I just have a few questions regarding Mr Bradford and I'll be on my way.”

The printshop employee scratched his chin before motioning for Holmes to follow him inside, he took him to the older man who had previously sent him to deal with the problem.

“Theo? I thought I told you to deal with it” the old man spoke, Theo, however, sighed “yeah well he's a detective, won't leave”

The old man's hands stopped working on the press as he turned to meet Sherlock Holmes’ eye, “Aye, yes I recognise you, you're that Holmes guy, to what do I owe the honour?”

Theo spoke up before Sherlock could “he says he's looking for Bradford, Mr Tibalt.”

“You a fan Mr. Holmes?” Tibalt spoke, prompting Sherlock to glare in his direction.

“I assure you quite the contrary, I have been just tasked with looking into him and his background” Sherlock made sure to walk up to the elder man and stand about a foot away from him, standing taller than him he was trying to add an intimidation factor “I would appreciate your cooperation”

Tibalt stood staring at Sherlock for a good 10 seconds before speaking “I'm not sure if I can actually be of help, I haven't met the man, and neither has Theo, he doesn't deliver the stories himself”

“Then who does?”

“It really depends.”

“On?”

“4 men rotate in delivering the story every week, each one wears a mask so I don't see their faces. They don't say a word, all I get is the story and a letter with instructions on what to do along with the payment.”

Dead end.

“And when was the last time one of the men?” Sherlock asked.

“About an hour before you graced us with your own presence. He'd be long gone. All I can tell you is I have never met mr Bradford or had any personal contact with him.”

Sherlock nodded in thought, his only chance of unveiling Mr. Bradford had quite literally beat him to the chase. Tibalt turned and faced away from Sherlock grabbing a freshly printed newspaper copy, “I can't help you much about Bradford but I can tell you this” he handed Sherlock the new concept that was due for release in the morning, “Something has changed, he's introducing new characters in the midst of the story, and it's clear that this chapter has shifted it all to focus on this character. I assumed it would interest you seeing as for the past couple of copies he had been facing what I assume is a dry spell of ideas”

Sherlock looked at Tibalt before opening the paper to page 4, his eyes skimmed over the paper and suddenly stopped in his tracks, “Detective Sherrinford?” He looked up to the print shopkeeper who shrugged his shoulders and turned to get back to printing the rest of the papers.

Understanding that he most likely wouldn't be able to get more information, he left his address and told them to let him know if there were any updates, then thanked them and left to go home.

……..

LONDON WAS BUSTLING THAT MORNING, the weekly paper distribution brought by an onslaught of arguments and opinions about the new chapter in the story. The introduction of the character Detective Sherrinford had brought about mixed feelings.

Some believed that Bradford was losing his touch and was doing what he could to keep the story going, others believed that this was just a long-winded way of Marcus telling them that the real story was about to begin, especially with the way he ended off this week's chapter.

“The game is afoot?” Enola put down the newspaper against her lap, she looked towards Sherlock who sat across from her in the carriage on the way to the Bridgertons. He shrugged his shoulders as he moved the curtains to gauge how far along they were until the house, “A change I presume, seems Marcus Bradford has decided to take the story in a different direction” he replied, there was a tinge of frustration in his voice.

The carriage stopped in front of the Bridgerton house and Sherlock stepped out before helping Enola out next, the footman took them into the house where they were allowed into the drawing room where Anthony, Benedict, Eloise, Gregory and Violet sat.

Anthony being the first to see them stood up in surprise when he saw the Holmes sibling there, “Lord Holmes what a pleasant surprise this morning” he stood up and walked to them and shook their hands before inviting them further into the drawing room in the direction of his family, “this is my mother.” Violet stood from her seat with a smile, as Sherlock took her hand and placed a light kiss on it, then Anthony introduced the rest of his siblings in the room before turning to Sherlock “To what do I owe this fine visit to Holmes?”

“I invited Enola for breakfast brother” y/n who had just walked into the room spoke as she approached the group. Sherlock watched as she and Enola hugged, then as she turned to him and shook his hand, “Good morning Lord Holmes, it's very nice to see you again”

“Likewise Miss Bridgerton” he nodded to her. “I presume you have read the new chapter out today lord holmes, He added a new character what was his name” y/n put her hand the her chin as she pretended to have forgotten the name which Sherlock could of course detect however decided not to call her out on her actions and played along “detective Sherrinford i presume is the name you are trying to remember miss Bridgerton”

“Ahh yes, you are quite right lord holmes, I'm quite forgetful when it comes to these things” she lied jokingly as she spoke, making a small smile play on Sherlock's own lips.

“It's a shame seeing as the author has now added this character, who is a recluse detective who will possibly that forever to solve a case with already many plotholes, the only way the story can go is down.”

y/ns smile fell for a second but she made sure to replace it quickly enough to not be noticeable, “I don't know, I have come to take quite the liking to Detective Sherrinford, I think he will do great to solve this case, I think this story is getting better” she spoke with a smile.

As Sherlock and y/n spoke no one really paid any mind to them. Anthony and Benedict were busy talking, Enola had struck up a conversation with Eloise and Gregory was reading the story in the paper, and no one was paying them any mind…

But violet, she could see it.

Her daughter never took the time to talk to a man for this long about anything, not even about books or stories there was something there. And she was adamant about helping it grow.

“I don't know lord holmes, I would have thought you’d like the character, I think Sherrinford is exactly like you.” y/n’s words caused Enola and Eloise to look towards them in shock, “y/n! You are completely right, how could I not make that connection earlier myself “Enola spoke as she walked to the pair quickly.

“What are you two on about, the man is nothing like me”

And there stood the three arguing about why Sherrinford is or isn't like Sherlock until inevitably, a maid walked into the drawing room and called out that breakfast was ready.

“I guess this means I should take my leave not, Enola ill pick you up in 3 hours” Just as Sherlock was speaking about leaving, Violet interrupted his farewells “Lord Holmes please do join us for breakfast”

Sherlock just about shook his head and was about to decline before Violet spoke again “I had the cook prepare extra just for you” and with that, he couldn't refuse, no matter how much he wanted to.

….

The family and the Holmes siblings filtered into the dining area, Enola and y/n sat next to each other, and just about when Gregory was about to sit next to y/n on her other side, his mother motioned for him to sit elsewhere leaving Sherlock no other seat but that one, not that it really bothered him.

The families started eating and exchanging conversation, the atmosphere was delightful, and Enola was aglow, it had been a long while since she sat down for breakfast with a family seeing as usually she and Sherlock wake up at different times and end up eating anything.

“Lord Sherlock, it really is a pleasure having you and your sister here, I must say I'm surprised I havent seen you in the ton more often, no soirees nor balls” Violet spoke as she cut another piece of the omelette in her plate. Sherlock swallowed the food in his mouth before nodding to Violet “That is indeed true viscountess Bridgerton, I simply haven't found the time to integrate into society, there's too much work and research and clients. In fact it is my fault Enola has yet to debut, I had been meaning to help her this season however i got sidetracked.”

Violet nodded her face full of sympathy towards the two siblings, it was a known fact around the ton that the Holmes family had lost not one but both parents in the same year, their father had been taken ill for months before suffering through an unfortunately painful exit and their mother had been so in love with him and followed him mere months after due to a broken heart.

Since then little has been known about the Holmes family, they had become reclusive and barely interacted with the rest of the ton. Sherlock and Enola, who were 9 and 2 at the time, were put under the care and sanction of their older brother Viscount Mycroft who himself was 15. It was like the Holmeses ceased to exist any longer, that was until a few years ago when Viscount Mycroft got married and Sherlock moved out to a flat in Central London, it was widely believed that Sherlock found the Viscount Holmes’ new wife to be unappealing to share a mansion with, sooner or later in a visit back home he decided he would take his younger sister to live with him.

“Well better late than never I say” Violet spoke softly with a smile targeted at Sherlock. Her eyes flicker to y/n who was eating her food quietly while listening to the conversation then back to Sherlock. “you know, there is a soiree tomorrow night at the Dunphrees,”

Anthony stared at his mother in shock understanding what she was doing “Mother!”

Violet of course ignored him knowing Anthony really is only good for ruining her plans. “We shall be attending, I say you should come”

Enola looked up from her plate excited “Oh can we brother, it sounds like so much fun” y/n snorted quickly while holding back a laugh. Sherlock glanced at her before looking to his sister whose eyes was practically begging him, “ Enola you don't had a dress for the occasion and I doubt one can be made in time”

Y/n smirked as she looked at him, “That is no worry at all lord holmes i have 4 daughters surely I have a couple of dresses to spare that will be her size.” Violet interjected. y/n and Enola looked at each other excitedly, Sherlock's lips pressed together in a semi-frustrated smile before looking at his sister and y/n. Enola looked very excited as she shared a hug with y/n, and for a moment his eyes lingered on the Bridgerton girl, he was thankful for her existence in his sister's life, she was in fact a very interesting person to talk to, and maybe having her around would make him feel less guilty over not always being there for his sister. The said Bridgerton girl turned to face Sherlock awaiting his decision, only to be met with his own eyes looking at her, he quickly looked away while clearing his throat embarrassed at having been caught staring at her, but this action did not elude Violet’s eyee, she smiled softly at the bashfulness of sherlock.

With a sigh, he nodded albeit quite a bit reluctantly but part of him knew that Enola needed this, and in fact he needed a break, so maybe he needed this too. “I don't see why not, God knows we require a chance for respite.” Enola gleamed at the thought of attending her first soiree tomorrow.

The families continued their breakfast and their endless conversations, many topics including the breach of secrecy of Anthony and Sherlock Oxford days, they even told stories of the Duke of Hastings from their days living together. Enola revealed quite a bit of her childhood activities, and the two siblings shared their distaste for their sister in law, hyacinth chatted about how their elder sister Daphne would have almost been married to the prince of Prussia had it not been for her love for the duke, this conversation managed to segway into Eloise talking about Lady Whistledown and who she may be.

“Speaking of hidden writers,” y/n spoke as she turned to look at Sherlock “How has your hunt for Mr Bradford lord homles, someone of your calibre must have reached some conclusion.”

Sherlock nearly choked on the tea he was drinking, everyone at the table went quiet actually quite curious about his findings. “Lord Sherlock you found Mr. Marcus Bradford?” Gregory exclaimed, having been quite a fan of the writer's weekly updates.

Wiping his mouth with a handkerchief the detective shook his head “I'm afraid I'm still looking, he has proven to be quite a difficult man to find. I went to the printing shop that prints and distributes the weekly paper, unfortunately, they have no clue who he is either, seems he doesn't deliver the chapters himself for all I know he is on the other side of England.”

y/n’s eyes moved to the side in thought as everyone sighed in frustration expressing their disappointment in the possibility of not knowing the writer behind the book.

“Well that would make no sense” y/n spoke up causing all eyes to move to her.

“It makes perfect sense miss Bridgerton, there are other places in England a man can live other than Mayfair” Sherlock spoke sarcastically, confused as to why y/n would find such a simple ordeal strange, his words caused both Anthony and Benedict to chuckle.

y/n glared at her brothers then directed her glare to Sherlock “Laugh all you want men, I have a point to make. Tell me Lord Holmes why would a man on the other side of England write a story only for it to be published in Mayfair only? Surely he wants to see the fruits of his labour in person, even if he doesn't take the credit for it.”

“What makes you so sure that the man only has it published in Mayfair and not all over England?” Sherlock spoke, now completely serious, of course, he was quite upset that a point like this could have fled his mind. He had been too busy looking for the man himself when the actual paper held most of the clues he would need anyway. He thought it would be best to listen to y/n seeing as it was her words that triggered him to find the first clue in the first place.

Something told him that she knew much more than she let on about this case.

“Simple. We receive two different newspapers per week, one is the English paper, and the other is the Mayfair weekly paper, and yet the story only appears in the Mayfair weekly. That means your elusive writer is either an idiot-” Violet scolded her daughter for her use of an insult, however y/n brushed it off with an apologetic look aimed at her, before facing Sherlock again “-and is sending a copy of his writing to every separate town and city in England rather than just placing it in the English paper that goes all over England, or he is walking among us here in Mayfair”

The two stared eye to eye for a good 10 seconds in silence that even Colin had to clear his throat to almost ease the tension. Sherlock was the first to speak, “Well deduced Miss Bridgerton, you seemed to have caught on to a point I seemed to have missed” he smirked, “This is the second time, one more time and I may just have to engage you.” y/n’s smile dropped at his words and her face heated up as violet and Enola let out a quiet gasp. Sherlock cleared up his throat and quickly went to fix his wording.

“Engage you in other cases i mean, sometimes I could use an outsider's eye on the matter” he spoke while avoiding y/n’s eyes, his fingers tracing the rim of the teacup in his hands. y/n was in a similar situation but had a small smile that danced on her lips.

“Holmes doesn't jest” y/ns smiled as her eyes shot up to look at Anthony who had made a habit of ruining the moment “Y/n is a young lady and shouldn’t really be exposed to some of the cases you deal with, don't you agree” she glared at him. “And what of it brother? What does my being a lady have to do with a case? It’s not like crime stops when I walk in the room just because I'm a lady.” she spoke while rolling her eyes, she knew her brother meant well but sometimes he was overbearing.

“y/n-”

“Actually viscount Bridgerton, I completely understand your argument” Sherlock's words caused y/n to look at him disappointed “However as Miss Bridgerton has worded it wonderfully, crime doesn't stop because the fairer sex exists. I truly believe there is no such thing as protecting them from the truth, only hiding the truth. I think Miss Bridgerton would benefit from being challenged by a few questions, no need to see a crime scene herself. I do this with Enola all the time, and she doesn't seem to mind at all.”

Enola quickly nodded at her brother's words in agreement “It's true Lord Bridgerton, it’s quite fun, like solving puzzles, it keeps me occupied and gives me the ability to spend time with Sherlock.”

Violet interjected before Anthony could speak again,” These are quite bold ideas you share lord holmes, not many men would agree with you.”

“And not many women too” Eloise muttered with an eye roll.

But Sherlock kept his resolve and looked to y/n and his sister before looking back to Violet, “Well viscountess Bridgeton, I am quite a fanatic of what many may call strange ideals. I believe that a day will come, when a war will break out,” the whole table gasped in shock at his words, “one half of the human race against the other, the invisible army always standing by the men's shoulder, there has to come a day where us men stand back and view women as equals who deserve respect and demand to be heard”

“I think it's a wonderful idea lord holmes, you letting y/n help out in your cases that is.” Violet broke the silence as she clasped her two hands together, she met eyes with y/n who smiled at her, she smiled back and gave her daughter a wink.

If he were to be the man her daughter would love, then she would rather back her up than be against her and cause her daughter to abstain from the thought of love or marriage in general.

Gregory sat up excitedly “Lord Holmes! When you do find Mr. Bradford do you think you can get him to sign a copy of his books for me?”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow with a smile at the excitement in his voice “Thats IF, but I don't see why not”

“No, it’s WHEN, Lord Holmes, I’m sure you are much closer to the man than you think” y/n spoke while motioning to Anthony valet to fetch her more tea with a smile. Sherlock looked at the teacup in y/n’s hands in confusion “I’m not sure im any closer to finding him, no one in the ton knows him”

The valet held the teacup as he poured tea for y/n as she spoke “Who says Marcus Bradford is the writer's real name?” it was like clockwork, Sherlock looked at y/n as she spoke, and the teacup slipped out of the valet's hands dropping some of the contents of the cup straight into y/ns lap. Sherlock quickly grabbed a tablecloth from in front of him and started dabbing the tea on her lap, them action caused her eyes to widen and for her to stand up quickly and move away, Anthony and Benedict stood up, both rushing to their sister, countless apologies were spewed from the valet's mouth. It was actually quite chaotic.

“It’s fine, I'm fine” y/n spoke with a nervous smile. “ one of the downsides of being a girl is wearing many layers, though I suppose in this case it is an upside” she let out a giggle while looking at everyone, her eyes moved to the valet who was still apologising “no harm no foul Hudson, I'm fine”

“I may have to get changed though, Enola,” she turned to face her friend, “Why don't you join me, we can look for a dress for you to wear for tomorrow's soiree”

The younger Holmes got up with a smile and joined her as the two rushed off to y/n’s room.

Everyone returned to their seats and slowly continued on with their conversation, however, Sherlock felt uneasy now in his seat, looking up in front of him his eyes met with Anthony’s eyes, who almost seemed to be glaring back at him. The eldest Bridgerton brother hadn't missed how Sherlock reacted to the tea dropped on his sister, he wanted to diminish any feelings that may be growing from y/n towards Holmes as fast as possible, to him Sherlock wasn't right for his sister.

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AN: First of all I am absolutely blown away by the number of likes and requests for tags I have gotten, I love you all, literally thought this story was going to flop. I'm sorry it took a while for the second chapter to come out hopefully next chapter won't take as long. TRULY LIKE WOW.

This chapter has so many easter eggs feel free to let me know which ones you found out through my ask box or comments, and if there is smth you would like me to add in any upcoming chapters let me know too<3

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I do not own Bridgerton

I do not own Sherlock or Enola Holmes

and I most certainly don't own the abominable bride story

I do not own Sherrinford

they belong to their rightful owners

I only own the fic idea.

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