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naughty-teddy-innit · 7 years

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Flutters: A losing your virginity to Ed Request {MATURE}

Title: Flutters: A Losing Your Virginity Oneshot (REQUEST)

Author: @naughty-teddy-innit

Rating: NC-17/MATURE/NSFW (Fluffy AND Smutty!)

Authors Note: This was my first ever request, and I think, my favourite thing I’ve ever written. So many feels. Hope you guys like it. Xoxo.

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FLUTTERS

“Feel the rhythm! Feel the rhyme! Get on up, it’s bobsled time! COOL RUNNINGS!”

You cannot help but crack up at the childish enthusiasm that just spills out of your boyfriend every time his favourite movie comes on. The way his clear blue eyes crinkle when he smiles and laughs, and the way that he knows EVERY word of this movie and quotes it verbatim? It’s endearing, really, never mind completely adorable. He takes such pleasure in the simple things.

It’s a dreary, cloudy day, pissing down freezing rain, and the two of you have decided that PJ’s, blankets, movies and your comfy overstuffed couch are your only goals for the day. He’s sprawled back, laying kind of sideways against the cushions at one end of the couch, while you’re sprawled against a pillow at the other end, semi facing him, your legs battling for dominancy of the couch.

You feel a toe poke you in the calf, and you look over to see one invisible eyebrow raised, staring at you with mock indignation. “You laughing at me, woman??” he says with a grin. “A classic film such as this deserves reverence! Respect!”

“The movie? Maybe. Your Jamaican accent?” You poke him back with determination. “Not even!”

His mouth drops and he grabs his chest, feigning betray and horror. “You cut DEEP! My accents are renowned, I’ll have you know!” He moves suddenly, swooping over you and pinning you to the cushions with his body, and mercilessly digging his fingers into your ribs, tickling you until you beg for mercy. “EDWARD. I swear to GOD, ED STOPPP!!”

You’ve got tears streaming down your cheeks as you shriek with laughter, and finally he lets up, pure satisfaction on his face as he lifts his hands in victory. You take this handy opportunity to spring up and knock him backwards, straddling his hips and finding his sweet, soft belly in order to launch your own counterattack. His eyes widen as he realizes your intent and his body twists sideways in order to evade your fingertips. His unbridled, joyful giggles may be the best thing ever in all of life, as far as you’re concerned, you cannot get enough of them, and they are completely uncontrolled right now. Your fingers find their target and he’s yelping, offering full surrender as your fingers find their target.

By the end the both of you are gasping for breath, tears in your eyes from laughing. He’s looking at you, that look that is so tender and so special, the one that’s reserved only for you. You smile, almost shyly, and bite your lip. His hand reaches for your face, cupping your chin, and as he pulls himself up to a semi-sitting position, he so softly brushes your lips with his. That familiar butterfly flutters in your belly, and your hands find his beard, fingers running through the soft copper scruff, pulling his face to yours, deepening the kiss. His tongue gently parts your lips, seeking to taste you, and his hand is gently running through your hair. The pads of his thumb skates along the contour of your cheekbone, your jawline, your neck, tracing every inch of your face. Your hands find their way to his silky fiery-red hair, copper locks always in a disarray, and your fingers wind your way into it, loving the way he hums with contentment as your hands work their magic on his scalp.

He moans as his mouth covers yours, deepening the kiss again, and suddenly, you can feel HIM, pressing against your thigh, as he holds you close. You blush as he shifts, feeling it against you, and feeling you stutter, he pulls back just a bit.

You love Ed. Intensely, deeply, and with no hesitation. There were some things though that you hadn’t yet shared. 20 years old, you had grown up in loving, supportive household, but also a traditional one. You had grown up with plenty of love and affection, in a very hands-on household, with very traditional values. Sex was not something you had ever taken lightly. Growing up, you were taught that sex was something to be valued and cherished, a gift to be given to the right man, in love and trust. Not some token to be spent whenever with whoever. You had always taken that to heart, wanting to save such a special experience for the right person. Up until your relationship with Ed, your love life had consisted of a string of cheaters and fuck boys, so there had never really been any temptation. Marriage-Only wasn’t necessarily something you were committed to, but being sure of the right person was.

You and Ed had been together for just under 6 months, meeting at an industry event. You worked as an event co-coordinator for a major company in your city, and your boss had introduced you that night. You had been so charmed right off the bat, he was just as sweet, humble, kind and funny behind the scenes as his he was in front of the camera and on stage. You’d talked for several hours that first weekend, and nothing had shocked you more when he continued to text you, and your relationship had bloomed. The distance thing wasn’t always easy, but he made every second spent apart completely worth it. Ed wasn’t one for grand, extravagant gestures, he tended to keep it simple, but so pure. So thoughtful. Little things. He knew exactly how you liked your coffee, and when you needed that pick-me-up the most, and would have it waiting for you without a word. After a shit day, he knew your sweet tooth would make chocolate a MUST, and your favourite candy bar would be waiting for you in the fridge (Because Reese Peanut Butter Cups MUST be eaten cold) when you got home. You were weirdly OCD about waking up to a clean kitchen, and he would, without a word, do the dishes and wipe the countertops after dinner while you dozed on the couch. He knew the correct laundry detergent and which pants not to throw in the dryer, how to brush you hair after a shower, and that Jimmy Fallon or Ricky Gervais were the best way to make you laugh. He knew which toilet paper to buy, the exact red wine that capped off your Friday evenings, and not to EVER play Justin Beiber in your house. He even put the seat down from DAY ONE. Until him you had no idea this kind of man even actually existed.

He was kind and thoughtful and cuddly and sweet and funny and gentle and sexy…really you could go on and on. He was a touch-feely kinda dude, loved to wrap himself around you from behind, play with your hair, and cuddle up for days. You LOVED that, he had a way of making you feel so loved and important and valued. It wasn’t something you were really used to. And making out with Ed? It was delicious…his lips, they were so soft, so full, and the way they felt on your skin…The way he’d cup your face, the way his hands would leave trails of lightning over every bit of skin they touched. It wasn’t as though he’d never touched you, his permanently calloused fingertips had the ability to light fires under your skin, and those moments when his hands were cupping and kneading your breasts, flicking your nipples, gently stroking your thighs or squeezing your ass cheeks…they’d almost swayed you a few times. He knew your feelings concerning sex, and never once, in the entire time you two had known each other, had he EVER pushed you or your boundaries. He knew without question that it was your decision, and that when the time was right, well…it’d be right. You hadn’t gone far beyond making out, mainly because in your mind, it felt as though it wasn’t fair to Ed, and you knew it would likely sway you to other things. You wanted to be sure before travelling down that path, and torturing the poor boy didn’t much seem very nice either. It was pretty obvious a few times that he was decidedly less than comfortable when you’d pulled back before things went too far, but his only reaction ever was to breathe deep, adjust himself and pull you close for a cuddle. Never once had he made you feel guilty about your choices, and to you, it made him perfect.

Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you see his cheeks dimple as he pulls back, noticing your blush. “I love that color in your cheeks, love…” he says with a grin. “Soz if he made you uncomfortable…I keep telling him to behave, doesn’t always work though.” He sits you both up, tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses you gently, while attempting to rearrange himself into a less…confining…position.

“Not trying to make “him” uncomfortable…” you laugh, still blushing. “It’s not like you don’t illicit the same reaction, sir.”

“You’re so beautiful”, he says softly, gazing at you with an intensity that takes your breath away. “And sexy. And you can cook. And you’re funny. And smart as shit. And you always SMELL amazing.” He pauses and scrunches his face up in that way that is so freaking adorable. “How do women do that??”

Inwardly your insides are a melted, messy pool of feels, but you’ve never been one to gush or wear your heart on your sleeve. “Multitasking is our “thing…” you drawl with a straight face. “Being that men can’t even pee and aim at the same time, we’ve got that particular area sewn up, I think.” You crack a grin and giggle at the truly affronted look on his face at the pee-and-aim statement and you drop a quick kiss on his nose before you scramble off him, knowing you might be in trouble for that one.

“I always put the seat down!” he says quite indignantly, chasing after you into the kitchen. “I’ve been trained well! It’s not our fault that the male anatomy acts like a fire hose sometimes…”

“EW. That’s a lovely image, Teddy, thanks for that.” You’re cracking up at the imagery that description has put in your head, but you’re beginning to think he needs to NOT be using your bathroom any longer, if that’s what’s happening. Jeez.

He catches up to you and lifts you up on the counter, hands flat against the underside of your bum, and softly places butterfly kisses all the way up your jawline to your ear, where he stops and nibbles just for a moment. Oh my…the tingles and flutters and lightning strikes taking over your body….it’s amazing what he makes you feel with the slightest touch.

He leaves a soft, slow, lingering kiss on your lips, and then pulls back, a content expression on his face, as takes a deep breath. “The things you do to me, woman” he chuckles softly.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Teddy…” you whisper, gently brushing the silky copper curls from his forehead. Your foreheads touch, and he gently rubs his nose against yours, once, and then again.

The first time he’d uttered the words “I love you” it had turned your world upside down, in the very BEST way. He’d flown in to spend a night with you, a much needed visit, and being jetlagged and exhausted, he’d pretty much collapsed on you and your couch when he’d arrived. Knowing all he’d have had to eat was airplane food, you’d made sure to have his very favourite pizza in the world waiting for him when he arrived, and after he’d fairly GORGED himself on the Calabrese deliciousness, he’d dragged you to the couch, and pulled you into the Little Spoon position and buried his face in your hair. You pulled your favourite blanket over the both of you, so content to just be encircled in his arms, and just when you thought he was asleep, you heard soft words muttered in your ear. “God, I love you…Never go away from me…” Your stomach had dissolved into butterflies and you heart had nearly exploded. It was the first time anyone had ever said those words without wanting something in return, the first time those words had ever meant anything to you. By the time those words had registered, the boy had completely conked out, and didn’t hear you say them right back. It was the first time that you’d ever believed in those words enough to use them, and there was no doubt how deeply you believed them. Since that night, those words had been uttered many times, but the habit you two had developed, the “thing” that said I love you without words, was the Eskimo kiss. It was such a tender, gentle, loving gesture, and one that always spoke volumes when there were no words.

He kisses your cheek, and turns around, stretching his arms out, and surveys the state of the kitchen. There are pizza boxes still stacked up the counter leftover from lunch, and your plates are in the sink. You hop down from the counter and head for the sink while Ed grabs up the pizza boxes and takes them out to the trash. Kitchen clean, you turn around and see your favourite Ginger pawing through your fridge.

“Is there EVER a time you’re not hungry?” you ask him, laughing. “Practically a whole pizza at lunch wasn’t enough?”

“I’m a growing boy!” he protests, “Without enough food, I’d waste away, innit??”

He slams the door of the fridge, and grabs his hoodie from the chair, sliding it over his head. “We need oreos, I reckon!” he says with authority. “Double stuf, if possible. Gonna run to the store, love, a snack run is in the offing! Want anything?”

“All I need is right in front of me.” You smile softly and drop a kiss on his forehead. “Go ahead, I’ll find us a movie for when you get back.”

His hand brushes my cheek, and I feel his nose brush mine. “Dunno how I got so lucky…?” he mumbles, a content smile spreading across his face. You grin and push him towards the door, knowing the faster he goes, the faster he’ll be back.

Once the door shuts behind him, you let your fingers wander to your mouth, unconsciously tracing where his lips have left their mark. You loved him. So much. And suddenly, as clear as day, you knew how you wanted to spend the rest of this dreary afternoon. You’d never felt so loved before, so cherished. The desire to share yourself, all of yourself, with this man you loved so deeply, had been building for some time, and you were ready. Scared slightly shitless, perhaps, but there was no one you wanted to share this experience with more.

The thrill of anticipation zinged in your bloodstream, and you decided you had better do some inventory before Ed got back. Taking the stairs 2 at a time you ran upstairs, locking yourself in the bathroom. Luckily, you’d thoroughly showered that morning, including all necessary manner of shaving and exfoliation. You didn’t quite know what to do with yourself, the nerves you felt were literally causing your hands to shake. You decided fresh breath was a priority, and scrubbed your teeth within an inch of your life, and then dug through the bathroom cabinet till you found your hairbrush, and pulling the elastic from your hair and releasing the topknot, you brushed your long hair till it fell in loose waves over your shoulders. You pulled your ratty old PJ shirt over your head, and with a deep exhale, you examined yourself in the mirror. You were certainly on the curvier side, you’d inherited your mama’s birthing hips, but you’d always kind of liked your hourglass figure. There were actually times you’d thought to yourself that smaller tits would be a blessing, but oh well. All in all, there were some areas of your body you wish were a little more toned, a little flatter, but Ed was always one to tell you how much he loved every inch of you, and loved the fact that you could EAT. You knew he’d appreciate every inch of you no matter what. The thought of that “appreciation” sent a shiver of anticipation and nerves up your spine, and with a little skip in your step you hurry off to the bedroom.

You’re now faced with figuring out what you should (or shouldn’t?) wear. You try on a sexy lace bra and thong, but TOO sexy, too obvious. Just take it all off and lay there?? No chance, you were WAY too nervous to put yourself out there like that. Finally, you settle on a pair of teeny, turquoise soft boy shorts that showed off your legs (minus your panties), and a stretchy, sexy lace cami with spaghetti straps that showed off your cleavage and midriff. You’re awkwardly trying to decide how to position yourself on the bed when something VITALLY important crosses your mind, and you hop back up. You hadn’t exactly planned this in advance, and so you weren’t currently on the Pill or the shot, and there was NO chance this experience was happening without being safe. Ed had always been honest about his history, he’s by no means a virgin, but no manwhore either. He also had always been strict about being safe, and not taking risks, which was reassuring. You notice his backpack in the corner of the room, and you figure it’s worth a quick check. SURE ENOUGH, in the bottom of the side pocket, there’s a packet of condoms. The Sheeran motto apparently was “Always Be Prepared”. You shake your head, laughing nervously, and thank the Gods that that small box was unopened, or he’d have some QUESTIONS to answer.

You grab the box and toss them in your nightstand drawer, and as you begin to contemplate what to do with yourself next, you hear the door slam down downstairs. The sound of the door alone has your heartrate revving like an engine, and the hairs on your arm and neck prickle. You KNOW you want this, you KNOW you’re ready…it’s expressing that to him.

“Love??” you hear that cheery, sexy, British accent echo from downstairs, and you quickly smooth your hair down one last time, and lay on the bed, tummy down, facing the door.

“Upstairs, babe!” you call out, in a tone slightly higher than it probably should be. Your heart is literally in your throat, and you’re not sure whether to giggle, or hyperventilate, or faint. Maybe all three?

You can hear him coming up the stairs, calling your name like a question, trying to figure out where you are. “Just in the bedroom!” you call, crossing and uncrossing your legs, shifting your weight to and fro, and trying to figure out where to put your arm. He pushes the door open and pops his head ‘round the doorjamb, and his face lights up when he sees you.

“…We playing hide ‘n’ seek this afternoon?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye. “Cuz that wasn’t much of a look? Try under the bed next time!” He come fully into the room and sees you’re laying on the bed, and immediately kicks his sneakers off, and launches himself onto the bed next to you. He buries his face against the soft curve of your lower back, and nuzzles at the soft skin there. It feels as though he’s trying to breathe you in, and it’s intoxicating. You can’t help but let out a little sigh of pleasure at the touch of his scratchy cheeks against your skin.

You slowly turn yourself over and gaze him, taking in his beautiful big blue eyes, his tangle of silky orange curls and the way his perfect lips are curved into that little boy smile. It’s ridiculous how PRETTY he is, and you just can’t get enough. You thread your fingers into his beard, and tug him towards you, kissing him softly; his top lip, his bottom lip, and both, trying to put everything you’re feeling into that kiss.

“Mmmmm” he hums contentedly. “I love your lips. More please.” He pulls you in and presses his lips to yours once more, deepening the kiss, winding his hands into your hair to pull you as close to him as you can, tasting every bit of you. His lips linger, drawing his kisses out to the point where your breath is gone but you don’t care. He tastes so good, those exquisitely soft, perfectly pink lips the perfect fit to yours, his hands so strong and gentle at the same time.

The length of his body is pressed up against yours, and wrapped up in the intensity of this kiss you’re pushing your body against his, twining your leg with his fuzzy one, and you can feel peaks of electricity in your blood, like your whole body is on edge. It’s not long before you can feel his reaction, it’s hard against your thigh, and suddenly he’s breaking the kiss and taking a deep breath. His cheeks are pink, and he speaks before you can utter a word.

“Damn, he’s at it again….Sorry, love, we men need an off-switch apparently.” He laughs nervously and pushes his hands through his hair. “Did you pick a movie…? We can-“. You take a deep breath and cut him off before he can get another word out.

“Teddy…” you whisper softly, “I don’t want to watch a movie.” You brush your fingers through the long strands on his forehead, and gaze up at him, trying to convey your message without words. You could literally lose yourself in those sea-blue eyes. He raises an almost non-existent eyebrow and says “Whaddya want to do then? Kind of a crappy afternoon to go anywhere, innit…?”

You stop yourself from giggling, but only just. Why are boys so DENSE sometimes? You take another deep breath, lock eyes with him and cup his cheek. You kiss him softly, and then trace his lips with your fingertips. “No…I don’t want to go out either. I want to stay right here. With you.” You take in every last molecule of oxygen you possibly can, steel yourself, and pull yourself to a halfway sitting position. “I want YOU, Teddy. All of you.” And you exhale, watching for his reaction, your lip between your teeth.

His eyes widen, suddenly realizing what you’re trying to tell him. “Babe...I know I got a bit carried away just then, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this. I love you, and you have my word I’m not in a rush…”

He’s looking at you, such tenderness in his eyes, and an uncertainty that’s so endearing you find yourself falling all over again. Your heart is simply racing, your blood pulsing through your body as you pull yourself upright and gaze into his eyes, wanting so badly to convey what you’d been dying to tell him. Lacing your fingers with his, you press a soft kiss to his warm fingertips and press both of your intertwined hands to your chest, to your heart that was hammering at the expression on his face, and tried to put everything you were feeling into the shaky words that spilled from your lips. You wanted, NEEDED, him to know just how much you wanted this with him.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, Teddy. I love you. So much. I always knew that the first time I had sex, I didn’t want it to be slam-bam high school thing. I didn’t want to “lose it” just to say I’d done it. I wanted it to be with someone that wanted to actually make love to me, not just get laid. I wanted to be sure I was in love and that he was in love with me. And I am. You know me better than anyone, and every little thing you do shows me how much you love me. You’ve never once expected a thing in return, never pressured me, and that makes me want you. It makes me sure that you’re who I’ve been waiting for.” You take a breath, feeling the warmth in your cheeks and look into his eyes, awaiting his response.

The look on his face…it was something you would tuck away and keep with you for as long as you lived. There was such love and devotion in his eyes, and when he spoke, you could hear the emotion. “You’ve no idea just how much I’ve fallen in love with you. I never wanted to push you for anything, because the thought of pushing you away scares the shit out of me. Just holding you, it makes me feel like I have the whole world, I don’t need anything else.” He takes a shaky breath and continues. “I know how long you’ve waited for this…I mean…I- I just want you to be sure.” He’s looking at you, biting his lip and playing with the edge of his hoodie.

You find that all of a sudden, your nerves have died down, and you know without a single doubt, that you’ve made the right decision. You want this so badly, and more importantly, you want HIM. You tip his chin up and catching his gaze, you touch your nose to his, once, and then again. The biggest smile you’ve ever seen spreads across his whole face.

“We’ll take it slow, I promise…” he whispers, cupping your face. “If you want me to stop, you’ve just got to say it.” He gently lowers you back onto the bed, making sure you’ve got a pillow under your head, and slowly, oh so slowly, he lowers his head and begins to place the softest kisses all along your jawline, and your neck, and even your collarbone. You let your eyes drift shut, enjoying the sensation of his lips and tongue worshipping you, leaving what feels like a trail of fire on every bit of skin he touches. He drops one last kiss at the tops of your breasts and looks up at you, wanting to make sure it was okay to move on. You’re not sure you can even speak coherently anymore, so you arch your chest up and breathe deeply, smiling at him and nodding. He climbs over top of you, and you part your legs so he can settle in, wanting every part of him to be as close to you as possible. He shakes his, almost imperceptibly, like he can’t believe this is happening, and lowers himself, supporting his weight with one arm, and he takes a moment just to look into your eyes and gaze at you.

“I want to make you feel amazing…trust me?” he says softly, looking at you for permission.

“Without a doubt.” You say softly. You tangle your fingers in his hair and tilt your face to catch his lips, the need to feel them, to taste them, overwhelming you. Your tongue gently parts his lips, sliding into his mouth, desperate to taste him. His tongue tangles with yours, his breathing shallow, and it’s like he CANNOT get enough of you. It is so sexy. He breaks away from you, and biting his lip he smiles slow and sexy. His fingers trail down your cheek, traces your jawline and run down your shoulder and neck. One hand splays on your bared midriff, and the other catches the hem of your cami, slowly easing it up your body. You bite your lip, knowing what he wants, and you arch your body so he can pull it off of you. You lay back against the pillows, and notice that he’s just looking at you, drinking you in. He has the sweetest smile on his face, and when he notices you fidgeting, looking a bit…self-conscious, he shakes his head and tips your head up to meet his gaze.

“You’re so beautiful. Every single inch of you. I could just sit here and look at you for hours. How did I get so goddamn lucky…”

You blush, and he kisses your cheek softly. He moves himself down the bed, and looks at you with a twinkle in his eye, a small grin playing at his features. He begins at your collarbones, and begins leaving a trail of soft, wet kisses, soft lips followed by his sexy tongue, from one side to the other, and then traces a path down between your breasts. He plumps one up with his hand, and your breath stutters as his lips find your nipple. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, alternating between gentle tugs and flicks. While his mouth lavishes one nipple, his other hand is gently squeezing and massaging your other breast. The sensations coursing through your body have you practically panting, your body writhing as he teases you. It’s as though there’s an electric wire straight from your breasts right to your groin, what he’s doing feels SO good and you want more, MORE.

“Ed…God…” you moan, arching your body, trying to press your body into him as much as you possibly can. He’s switching between your nipples; sucking, tugging, nibbling, and it’s driving you to madness. “More?” he asks softly, looking up at you, wanting to be sure.

“Yes….please….” your body is moving of its own accord, needing…what you weren’t sure, but so much more. He pulls away from your breasts, and begins kissing his way back down your overly sensitive body. He leaves a trail of kisses under each breast, and slowly, tortuously, makes his way down to your belly button. His tongue dips into it as his focus shifts downwards, and he leaves feather light kisses from one hip to the other, all the way across. You know where he’s headed, and your brain can barely comprehend what’s about to happen. His mouth had never travelled your body this way, and it was leaving points of fire under every bit of skin he touched. His hand slides under your leg and bends it at the knee, pushing it back gently, and does the same to your other leg, just as softly. You feel utterly exposed in this position, but you’re so worked up that the thought doesn’t last long. He lets the pads of his fingers skate up and down your thighs, tracing the length of your calves, even caressing your feet. “Okay?” he whispers looking at you, and all you can do is nod, your body urging him on.

His lips are on you, his mouth leaving trails down the inside of each thigh, kisses on the insides of your knees. He switches to your feet, gently lifting them and kissing the arches of your feet and OH god who knew feet were sexy and when he’s finished there he begins kissing his way up your legs, slowly, up one side, then he switches to the other leg, loving every inch of that one, from top to bottom. You can feel his warm breath on you as he settles himself between your parted legs, and he gently hooks his fingers inside the waistband of your teeny shorts, gently tugging them down your thighs. You lift your bum so he can pull them off, and he gently tosses them off to the side. He works his way back up the insides of your legs, leaving butterfly kisses in his wake, tingles and jolts of electricity with every touch. You feel his teeth skimming the softest part of the inside of your thigh, kissing, nibbling, and tasting every bit of your skin. He stops, and grasps your thighs gently, pushing them open a bit more so he can have complete access, and suddenly you feel his fingers trace your lips, pushing them open oh so gently. He very gently kisses the creases where your legs met your centre, and with his tongue, gently paints a stripe from the base of your slit all the way to the top. Your whole body lifts off the bed as you gasp from the lightning strikes penetrating your belly, you’ve never experienced this kind of sensation, it’s overwhelming and SO GOOD and why in the hell have you waited this long?

“Feel good, babe?” he murmurs, his face buried in your slit. You manage to lift your head enough to see the look of rapture on his face as he’s tasting you. “You taste so fucking sweet. I’ve wanted to do this for so long…” His tongue is alternating between long, torturous licks and gentle nibbles at your labia. It’s a storm you can barely weather, but God it is SO GOOD and in between trying to remember to breath, you manage to tell him “MORE. Oh my…Teddy, please….!” You’re losing control of your body and you’re writhing under his ministrations, just completely out of control.

“Anything for you, love” he grins, and pushing your lips back, his tongue finds that sweet pink spot. His tongue swirls around and around it, nudging that sweet little pink button, like a piece of delicious candy, and your hands find his hair, that silky soft tangle of fiery curls, and you thread your hands through it, pressing his face as tightly against you as you can, completely lost to the building sensations in your belly. You can’t form coherent words, just gasps, moans, guttural sounds that you had no idea could come from you. His arms, the bright colours of his ink so sexy against the bare expanse of your skin, wrap around your thighs, pressing them to the sides of his head. He’s pulling you closer to him so his face is all but engulfed, the deep, throaty sounds escaping from his throat as he devours you so indescribably sexy. His tongue is thrashing your clit, back and forth, quick and light, over and over and over, and you can’t comprehend the delicious fiery tightening in your belly, it’s SO GOOD, it feels like climbing the highest mountain and you want so badly to jump off that edge, and like he’s reading your mind, suddenly he switches from flicking and thrashing to sucking that little pink bundle of nerves right into his mouth and your mouth is wide open, there’s no words, your whole body is lifted up and your muscles locked, it’s like thunder crashing and lightning striking and like NOTHING you have ever felt before, your body is trying to jump out of your skin and there’s spots in your vision that don’t make sense but OH PLEASE NEVER STOP and he keeps sucking and tugging, helping you ride out this incredible explosion, your hands still in hair, keeping him exactly where you need him to be. Your body is STRAIGHT up off that bed, arching into his mouth, “TEDDY…” you gasp, as you fly off that cliff, riding out the most intense sensations you have EVER experienced in your life. Finally the sensations begins to ebb away, your body sags back against the bed and you look down at the face between your legs, with a sated, disbelieving smile on your face.

He kisses your thighs one last time, and lifts himself up. He crawls up the bed and gently nestles himself on top of you, catching your lips in a kiss, and stroking your hair, your cheek. “That was so fucking sexy…” he murmurs. “Incredible watching you, listening to you come undone….was it what you hoped for?”

You pick your head up off the pillow, and gaze at him, trying to figure out how to put what just happened into words. “That was…Teddy…that was incredible. It was…I don’t even. Holy shit.” Your head flops back on the pillow, and he cracks a little boy grin at your words and dips his face to catch your lips for a kiss.

Your ability to breathe is only just returning to normal, and as you lay sprawled beneath him, all you can think is how you love him so much right at this moment. You bite your lip, and look at him, knowing what you’d like to do next. You kiss him softly, once, twice and run your fingers down his cheek. You pull yourself up to a sitting position, and looking him in the eye, you hook you fingers under the edge of his hoodie and begin to drag it up his body. He grins, and lifts his arms to help you get it off. His shirt follows, and you awkwardly fumble with his belt buckle, trying to undo it. You manage to unbuckle it, and carefully unbutton his jeans and pull the zipper down. He’s watching you, letting you take the lead. You pause, wondering how to go about getting his pants down without looking like you have NO idea what you’re doing. You can see him smiling at you, laughter in his eyes, and he lifts his hips without a word, helping you to peel his jeans off his legs. Once those are out of the way, he pulls you back down on the bed, and finds your lips. His lips, so soft, so full, they taste so good. Long, lingering kisses, deep kisses that you could feel down to the tips of your toes. Kisses full of promise and passion and tenderness.

Your let your hand fall to his hip, your fingers playing with the edge of his boxer briefs. His hands have found your ass, cupping and kneading, squeezing, as he continues to bruise your mouth with kisses, tasting you with his tongue. Your legs are intertwined, and you’re beginning to feel his reaction against your hip.

Your fingers slide under the waistband of his boxers, wanting to explore what was waiting for you. His hips stutter as he realizes what you’re doing, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. “Only if you’re sure, Love”, he whispers.

“Mmm, I’m sure…” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips. “Just…tell me if I’m doing it right?”

“Trust me Babe…there’s VERY little you could do wrong right about now” he chuckles.

He shimmies his boxers down and you pull them off and WHOA. Wow. Not like you didn’t know what a penis looked like…but, um. It was BIG. How was that supposed to-? Never mind. You’d get there. Right now….you run your fingertips up his thigh, sifting the fuzzy hairs there between your fingers, enjoying the shiver you can feel run through his body. You let your fingers walk to that soft crease where his thigh meets his groin, and then tentatively, you gently let your fingers wrap around his length, and give him one long stroke, letting your fist stop at the head. Wow….so hot to the touch, but smooth. Like silk. A low throaty moan escapes Ed’s throat as his head falls back, enjoying the touch of your hand.

You gently let your hand continue to glide along the length of his penis, from the base to the tip, and judging by the quick, raspy breaths falling from Ed’s mouth, you’re doing something right. You LOVE the effect your touch is having on him, and on the next stroke, you gently tighten your fist, tugging the head and the hiss that escapes his lips is so satisfying.

“Jesus baby….” He just manages to get out. ”You’re gonna be my undoing….”

He slides his fingers into your hair, pulling you close so he can kiss you. Not so tender this time, it’s fierce and passionate, the lust he’s feeling spilling out of him into you. You’re moving your hand more quickly, and you can feel his length thickening and growing as you stroke him. It’s a heady, powerful feeling that his body is reacting this way because of you. Between strokes and tugs, you gently cup his balls, and watch him carefully, afraid of squeezing too tight. “Shit…babe…like that”, he hisses, and you happily pick up the pace, loving the sound of his voice, the way his eyes are squeezed shut, the way his leg is tensed as he braces his body. His hips stutter, and your eyes widen as you notice a bead of fluid roll out of the slit in the tip of his penis, as you’re pumping and stroking. You’re surprised at his how sexy, how pretty, it is. Framed by the same soft, orange strands that adorn the rest of his body, the plush, pink head, the silky soft shaft…it was incredible. You loved how rock hard he was, that you were the one that make it that way. The foreskin was stretched back now, and the breathy sounds coming from his lips are coming fast and you can tell he’s fast losing control. He sucks in a breath and his hand is suddenly on yours, clumsily pulling it away.

“Fucking hell… feels so good,” he gasps, “but…stop. …I don’t want to finish like this, not like this.” His mouth is yours, his tongue is tasting every bit of you, and his body flush with yours. He cups your cheek, and staring at you tenderly. He tilts your face up, and touches his nose to yours. “…Love you so much, baby. I want you so damn bad…” He whispers this, but there is so much intensity to his words, such reverence. It takes your breath away. You push yourself back against the pillows, and wrap your fingers into the sweaty curls at the base of his neck, pulling him close. You press your lips to his and lift your hips to his. “I want you too, Teddy, make love to me.” You take a deep breath, ready to take the plunge (in more ways than one…) when through the emotions and lust you remember something important.

You twist your body and your hand finds the knob on the drawer beside your bed, and you fumble in the drawer, your fingers finding the box. Ed cranes his head, looking at what you’re doing, and then smiles knowingly. “How’d I never notice you having rubbers in there before??” he says with a teasing grin.

“Because I didn’t!” you look at him with a raised eyebrow and a teasing grin, and then purposefully turn your head and motion to his backpack. His eyes widen, and his cheeks turn the most ADORABLE shade of pink. “Um…” he stutters with an adorable innocent boy smile on his face, “Always be prepared??”

“I love that you cared enough to want to be safe, to protect me”, you say, softly kissing his lips. “That and the fact that you left them in there.” you giggle softly.

“I just figured…I mean, I didn’t want you think I was trying to-“. You cut him off. “Teddy…Shut up. No more words, I’m not upset. I love you and I want you. Now. Please, Teddy…” You slide your fingers into his beard and tug him close, looking him straight in the eyes. He swallows hard, his breathing suddenly quicker. “I want you too” he whispers and gently pulls the box from your hand. He fishes out a foil packet, and as you watch with wide eyes, he quickly tears it open and looks at you, his eyes hooded. He quickly slides the condom down over his length, and then you feel his soft hand slide under your ass cheek and he tugs you down. You swallow deeply, your blood tingling and coursing through every part of your body. You shakily exhale; trying to remember to breathe, and let your legs fall open, your heart hammering in your chest. Ed lifts himself up, and crawls up over your body, moving slowly and gazing at you with such love and softness.

“Babe…look at me.” He can obviously sense your nerves, and he brushes his fingers down your cheek, under your chin and drops a kiss between your breasts. “I wouldn’t ever hurt you, we’ll take it slow. Promise…”

He gently grasps your calf and pushes your leg back just a bit, and his lips are on you, lingering and tender and sweet, tugging your upper lip, then your bottom lip, deepening the kiss as he covers his body with yours. Your leg is hiked up, pinned to his waist, and he’s leaning on his forearm, nestled between your legs. He carefully lifts himself just a bit, and takes himself in hand, guiding his penis gently to your slit, and allows the head to just slip between your folds. He makes no move to penetrate, not yet, but just gently slides the head of his dick against your cleft, allowing you to adjust to the sensation, up and down between your lips, allowing the moisture that’s gathered there to lubricate his length so that it glides like silk. Your eyes close tight and your head falls back, GOD, he’s not in you yet but it feels SO good, so intimate, the anticipation is almost too much. It feels like your blood is going pulse right out of your body.

A low moan rumbles from his throat and he lets out a deep breath as feels you begin to surround him. “You’re so wet, babe….It’s so hot. You’re so sexy….” He groans as you tilt your hips up, wanting more.

He stops the gliding motion, and gazing into your eyes, he gently pulls your other leg up so their pinned to either side of his waist, and then reaching down between the two of you, he positions himself at your entrance. He cups your face, and with so much tenderness it nearly undoes you, he touches his nose to yours.

Your heart is so full, you love him SO much, and you want nothing more than to stay with him like this forever. You gasp as you feel the tip of him gently push against your opening, past your sensitive tissues, and your body jerks as you tense up. He gently strokes your hip and you hear him breathe the words “Relax, Love…I’ve got you”, as he kisses your lips. He only pushes himself in a bit, just the head, slowly, letting you adjust to his size. “…Tell me when…” he whispers, letting his fingers run up your thighs, leaving fiery trails behind them. You respond by tightening your legs around him, and squeezing his bum to press him closer. He pulls his hips, back and in one slow motion, very gently, he fills you.

You bite down hard, gasping, oh GOD, you knew it would hurt a bit, but it STINGS. Fuck. Tears prick at your eyes as your sensitive flesh stretches in a way it hasn’t ever before. His voice, it’s in your ear again, soft and reassuring. “I love you so much….I promise it will feel so much better. I won’t move till you tell me to.” His thumbs tenderly wipe away the moisture under your eyes, and he slows his body, and strokes your face. He stays buried inside you, and concentrates on kissing you until you’ve no breath left in you, and slowly you realize your body is adjusting to his size. The sting is dying out, but the feeling of being stretched that way, it’s something you must get used to. He’s not moved, just holding you, caressing you, loving you, and remaining deep inside you while your body adjusts to him.

“Baby…” he half moans, “Let me try-“. You kiss him and urge him on with your hips, and he slowly lifts his hips and slowly pulls himself part way out, not all the way, and nudges his head through your slick folds, bumping up against your clit, and slowly thrusts back into you, gently, unhurriedly. Oh, oh not so painful anymore, it…there’s still quite the sting as you stretch to fit him, but it’s wonderful, the feeling of him filling you up, actually being INSIDE you…The thought pops through that it’s happening, you’re actually having SEX. You push aside the urge to giggle and the thought is extinguished as both his hands find your ass, and he pulls his hips back, pulling almost all the way out but not quite and oh, it’s a surprisingly empty feeling, you want him back and your hands run down the length of his back to the rise of his ass and tug him, beckoning him to keep going, heavy breaths, loud breaths, falling from your lips, and he groans at your reaction, setting a slow, languorous pace, your ass in his hands and he continues to thrust in to you, long, gentle strokes, filling you up. You can feel your walls tightening around him every time he enters you, wanting to keep him inside you. “You’re so goddamn tight….Jesus!” he grunts as you envelop him at every stroke. “You feel so fucking amazing….you alright baby??” he whispers in your ear.

You manage an “Oh…oh… yes….” And you tighten your legs around him, pressing your feet into his back, urging him on. One hand slides out from under your ass, and he moves it up to your hair, his fingers tangling in the long strands falling over your shoulders. His lips are on your neck, leaving a wet trail from your pulse point down to your shoulder and across your collarbones. His breathing is heavy, uneven, and the hand that’s tangled in your hair and cupping your face is pinning you to the pillows, and his mouth frantically finds yours, kissing you deeply, his tongue everywhere, and not once do his hips stop moving, his body is lifting and pressing into you, over and over and it feel SO good, the feeling of him filling you up, every bit of his soft, warm body pressed against yours.

“More Babe…I need…ohh…” you gasp, trying to find the words but failing.

“Oh, love….Yes…Fucking hell!” he grunts, lifting himself up off of you a bit, supporting himself with his hands and forearms, switching his strokes from long, languid thrusts where he’s not even pulling all the way out of you, to quicker, rhythmic, more frenetic thrusts, the head almost all the way out before he plunges back in, and you let one leg drop, using your foot to brace yourself against the mattress, allowing yourself to open to him as much as possible. You’re concentrating on the connection between you, the way your bodies fit together so perfectly, the zings and flutters and sparks that his every movement sends pulsing through your body. The way he’s still cupping your face, caressing your neck, your shoulder, the rise of your breasts, how he can’t help but be drawn back to your lips, his kisses are so full of desire and lust, yet so tender. Like a promise with every touch. It’s so damn intimate. In this moment, with your heart and your body so incredibly full, you know that THIS is why you waited.

He’s gasping with every movement, every thrust, and he’s trying to keep his eyes open, watching you and wanting to take you in, and holy GOD, the desire and drive in his eyes, how his pupils are blown and the way his mouth is dropping open with every sweet stroke, like he can’t control the sensations, it is sexy beyond words. Your hands find their way to the back of his head, tangling in those delicious sweaty curls at the back of his neck, kissing him so deeply you could just about devour him.

“Babe…so close…” he hisses, gritting his teeth and you realize he’s holding back and waiting for you, not wanting to put his needs ahead of yours. You let a hand drift down to rise of his ass cheek, and let the other hand find his jaw, and kiss him deeply, gasping for breath as the sensations race through your body. You realize that all you want is for him to find that peak, to find his release, because the earth shattering climax he gave you with his tongue, that beautiful mouth, it was enough. The feeling of him being inside you, being a part of you, him worshipping you like this? It was enough. You had all the time in the world to explore each other from now on, and right now, this moment was all about him.

His hips are moving in short, messy thrusts as he chases the sensations that are taking him over. “Baby it’s okay…” you whisper, staring into his eyes and wanting him to feel as good as he made you feel. “Let go!” you gasp, as little explosions of pleasure ricochet through your body, it’s insane how amazing he feels, and you pick your hips up and try to match his thrusts, pushing your pelvis against him, grinding against him, wanting every bit of contact you can get. The hand that’s tangled in your hair tightens, his thumb brushing your ear, and he’s got his forehead pressed to yours as he tries to maintain eye contact. You can feel a bead of sweat roll off his temple, and the sounds escaping his mouth are now completely out of his control. Low, throaty moans, guttural noises that you had no idea he was capable of, and you want this. Oh you want this. You hold his face between your hands, and look him in the eyes, a feat, because he can barely keep them open, and kiss him so softly, so tenderly. “I love you….God, I love you.” You whisper to him, caught up in overwhelming emotion.

His eyes are fluttering, and his whole body tenses up, his muscles caging you onto the bed. “Ah ah ah…!” He’s making a concerted effort to lock eyes with you, to keep connected, but that battle is lost as they slam shut, his orgasm taking him over. “Jesus, baby I…Ah…Oh Fuck!” and his whole body shudders as his hips finds you one last time, and he’s pushing your body up the bed, bracing himself against you, trying to keep every last inch of you wrapped around him. His muscles are tensed and shaking, and you can feel him shudder once more, and then his whole body sags, soft against you, and his head falls to your chest.

You’re still struggling to catch your breath, your heart slamming against your rib cage, and the emotion coursing through you is threatening to overflow. Ed, still panting himself, gingerly lifts himself off you, reaches down and hooks his finger into the condom as he gently pulls out of you, assuring it won’t slip off. “Oh…” you breathe, feeling the emptiness. He slides it off quickly, and discreetly tucks it into a Kleenex he grabs from your nightstand and puts it off to the side. He rolls back over on to his side, facing you, and he can’t hide the smile spreading across his face as he cups your cheek and kisses you, over and over and over, with such fervor it almost renders you breathless. He breaks away and a soft smile plays across his features as he just gazes at you, not saying word, just seemingly savouring the moment. He pulls you into his chest, and you savour his warmth, wanting nothing more than to be held.

“Ed…” you falter, trying to figure how to put what you’re feeling into words. “Every time I thought about what this experience would be like….when I thought about what I wanted it to mean? Teddy, this was it. I-“. He puts his finger to your lips.

“I love you.” The way he says this, it’s so quiet, but so full of conviction. “You are everything to me…and it means the world to me that somehow I’m deserving enough that you chose to share yourself with me. That was…fucking incredible. YOU are fucking incredible.”

You smile softly, and run your fingers lazily through his beard. You stretch your arms above your head, and then your legs, and as you go to cuddle your body into his chest, you suddenly feel…something…on the sheets between your legs. You glance down, and oh. Oh God. You knew it would hurt, when he entered you, but you didn’t think about the possibility of THIS. Your face feels a thousand shades of pink, though you know there’s no real reason to feel embarrassed. It’s just some blood, but still…Ed notices your discomfort, the blush on your cheeks, and he looks where you’re looking.

“Love, it’s no big deal…honestly. Happens sometimes. I’m not bothered!” He brushes the hair from your eyes and kisses your cheek, a reassuring smile on his face. You swing your legs over the side of the bed, and drop a kiss on his nose before pulling your cami back over your head. You’re suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious.

“Gonna run to the bathroom, baby, clean myself up a bit…” you smile awkwardly.

“Course, Love. Hurry back though….need cuddles from my girl after all that…” he murmurs with a crooked smile. You hurry off to the bathroom, clean yourself up, pee because that seems like a good idea, and run a brush through your hair. You stop for a second, and look at yourself in the mirror, studying your features. You feel different….empowered and well, like a real grownup. You lift your shoulders and feel a grin spread across your face. You finally did it. No longer a virgin! You giggle, flip your hair back and head back to the bedroom. You walk through the door and stop short, staring at your bed. Sweet boy, in the 5 minutes you’ve been in the bathroom, he’s pulled the bloody sheet off your bed, and put fresh linens back on. He really does think of everything. A disbelieving smile crosses your face, and you shake your head slightly, so enamoured with this boy. You feel a strong of pair of arms wrap around you from behind, and you let out a soft sigh of contentment as you let your head fall back onto his chest. Your fingers absent-mindedly begin tracing the colorful shapes on his forearms, and you feel his lips in your hair.

“Best day ever, innit?” he says softly. “Best girl ever too…”

You spin around and look him in the eyes, tracing his cheeks and jaw with your fingers, pushing a few stray fiery strands of hair from his forehead. “You’re not so bad yourself, baby…” you whisper with a smile.

“Mmmmmmm” he hums contentedly, and softly, slowly, he leans in. He touches his forehead to yours, and you feel his fingers tip your chin up, and just when you thought your heart couldn’t take anymore, he touches his nose to yours.

Hope you loved it, Feedback/Comments are LOVE!

*MASTERLIST here*

#Ed Sheeran #ed sheeran oneshot #Ed Sheeran fanfiction #Ed sheeran fanfic #Ed sheeran smut #Teddy Sheeran #teddy sheeran fanfic #teddy sheeran mature fanfic #Ed sheeran mature fanfic #Teddy Sheeran oneshot #Code Ginger #fanfic #ed sheeran love story

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redscullyrevival · 7 years

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The Beekeeper’s Apprentice: Mary Russell Rundown

Oh boy oh boy I do love a good bump and dig into Holmes canon - especially if it has the potential to ruffle male fans! @sonnetscrewdriver knows me so well.

Plot/Setting/Narrative

So what’s the live or die, sink or swim, aspect of a non-Conan Doyle Sherlock-like tale?

Surly its not Sherlock’s characterization.

A child can get Sherlock right.

Is it the mystery? Is it the logical detective steps or flights of barely believable deductive ability key to the kingdom?

Nah.

While the ride is important and a big draw most every Sherlock versed individual typically learns not to put their eggs in that widely inconsistent basket.

How about the narrative expression explaining and driving the Sherlock-like things in the story?

You friggin’ bet ya! That’s the important stuff.

And Laurie King can certainly write a Sherlock-like narrative!

Holy hell.

King is as close to emulating a Doyle style narrative I’ve ever personally read but injects it with a wonderfully feminine perspective.

And not overtly flowery and romantic lyrical male-writing-feminine but feminine in the ways important to a Sherlock-like story; in the detail observations our Mary Russell is often to share.

The cases I feel could be a bit tighter other than the Kidnapping of Jessica which was surprisingly moving and really when I started to connect to Mary.

Mary Russell

The elephant in the room, “is Mary Russell a Mary Sue?”

I don’t really care but very brief digging has resulted in learning many people do.

Personally I think the best and most important thing to know about Mary Russell and by extension her creator is that on the official website there is a downloadable PDF titled “Information for the Writer of Mary Russell Fan Fiction” and is 17 pages of free organized information for fic writers and fans.

That’s simply beautiful.

Seems to me Laurie King knows what shes fuckin’ about and what she owes in debt.

And I don’t care if Mary Russell is viewed as some sad woman power fantasy by a wider Sherlock fanbase - but I won’t necessarily argue that she isn’t that either.

Mary Russell most certainly is a Mary Sue as viewed by some people and the argument is easily kindled.

And that’s not inherently bad is it? A little frustrating as its pretty obvious female characters get labeled Mary Sue disproportionately to male ones, to the point where there is no doubt in my mind that if Mary Russell were simply Russell hardly anyone would question or doubt his ability or companionship with Sherlock.

To get to the point:

I think Mary Russell is many things and like Sherlock as a character is adaptable to many reader views and interpretations - and ultimately its the controversy and wider discussion of her that makes Russell “valuable”.

I also think a big clue into the author’s intent with the character has to do with how her gender is discussed and made pronounced in text.

If Mary Russell never questioned her abilities or strength or worth as tied to her being a female in a very (very) male narrative space both within the one presenting her as well as the history of the character(s) she is tied to then the “Mary Sue” argument would have a lot more ground to claim, but as it is I am of the opinion that Mary Russell is meant to be a bit much and slightly antagonistic to what readers understand and unquestioningly accept regarding Sherlock and Sherlock canon.

I’m also pretty certain she is meant to be just a good time as well!

Lots of humor and love in this first book and it’s easy to like Mary, it really is, and while she initially comes off a bit pious as her story goes on she becomes more honest and open with her readers.

The first person narrative is uncharacteristically Sherlock and probably what drives a lot of “Mary Sue” arguments I’d imagine (“It reeks of self-insert!”) but works well enough and allows us insights into Mary we need.

Sherlock Holmes

This is a good Sherlock.

Very much a woman’s Sherlock.

And I mean that in the nicest way possible and not a comment on the impending romance.

‘Cause it’s going to happen and I might as well come to terms with it.

I’m actually really upset how okay I am with it to be completely honest.

I’m a romantic turd and I’m a sucker for relationships rooted in trust and belief in the other’s abilities so for me the impending romance (which is more “Mary Sue!” fodder and actually probably the biggest sore spot for anti-Russell folks I bet) is a combination of irritate and excitement.

Sherlock has always been an attractive figure for a lot of people - the age old “Smart is Sexy” at work.

I am one such people.

Very much a Spock vibe with Sherlock amirte???

The aloof disengaged approach to viewing relationships and emotional response paired with the logic and brains makes those characters someone you’d reallllly enjoy seeing crack (hence how their common and intense pairing with their closest ((of happen to be male)) confidants is so deeply satisfying).

The age gaps between Mary and Holmes is intense though innit?

YIKES.

A part of me wants to wax and wane on how irritating that is but then another part of me is practical and knows I can a.) ignore it b.) can’t help BUT ignore it because Holmes has the permanent visual image of stinkin’ Jeremy Brett in my traitor mind and I’m cool with watching him snog just about anyone!

So.

Hard to get up in arms about that really.

A third part of me also doesn’t give a shit.

Why am I so certain romance will bloom?

Because this is a woman’s Sherlock and I don’t mean that then obviously romance must present its self but what I mean is that this Sherlock isn’t alien and convinced that romantic feelings are unintelligent.

Kind of hard to explain but know it comes from years and years of reading various Sherlock Holmes fan fiction from various Sherlock Holmes properties and I know a “female holmes” when I see one.

Eh, I’m not explaining this well I’m loosing steam here but yeah.

*shrugs*

I’m not being negative!

Highlighted Passages

“As both I and the century approach the beginnings of our ninth decades, I have been forced to admit that age is not always a desirable state. The physical, of course, contributes its own flavour to life, but the most vexing problem I have found is that my past, intensely real to me, has begun to fade into the mists of history in the eyes of those around me.”

So, yes, I freely admit that my Holmes is not the Holmes of Watson. To continue with the analogy, my perspective, my brush technique, my use of colour and shade, are all entirely different from his. The subject is essentially the same; it is the eyes and the hands of the artist that change.

He was, as the writers say but people seldom actually are, openmouthed.

It was none other than the long-suffering Mrs. Hudson, whom I had long considered the most underrated figure in all of Dr. Watson’s stories. Yet another example of the man’s obtuseness, this inability to know a gem unless it be set in gaudy gold.

“Youth does not inspire confidence, in life or in stories, as I found to my annoyance when I set up residence in Baker Street.”

“I suppose you know I was prepared to hate him,” I said finally. “Oh yes.” “I can see why you kept him near you. He’s so…good, somehow. Naïve, yes, and he doesn’t seem terribly bright, but when I think of all the ugliness and evil and pain he’s known… It’s polished him, hasn’t it? Purified him.” “Polished is a good image. Seeing myself reflected in Watson’s eyes was useful when contemplating a case that was giving me problems. He taught me a great deal about how humans function, what drives them. He keeps me humble, does Watson.” He caught my dubious look. “At any rate, as humble as I can be.”

Looking back, I think that the largest barrier to our association was Holmes himself, that inborn part of him that spoke the language of social customs, and particularly that portion of his makeup that saw women as some tribe of foreign and not-entirely-trustworthy exotics.

It was a mad time, and looked at objectively was probably the worst possible situation for me, but somehow the madness around me and the turmoil I carried within myself acted as counterweights, and I survived in the centre.

It was the same, but I was different, and I wondered for the first time if I was going to be able to carry it off, if I could join these two utterly disparate sides of my life.

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes, I hope—” She looked down. “If my fears are correct, I have married a traitor. If I am wrong, I am myself guilty of traitorous thoughts against my husband. There is no win here, only duty.” Holmes touched her hand and she looked up at him. He smiled with extraordinary kindness into her eyes. “Madam, there is no treachery in the truth. There may be pain, but to face honestly all possible conclusions formed by a set of facts is the noblest route possible for a human being.”

“Are you telling me the butler did it?” “I’m afraid it does happen. Shall we search the woods for the débris?”

“It is, I can even say, a new and occasionally remarkable experience to work with a person who inspires, not by vacuum, but by actual contribution.”

Somehow me Da’ had raised a drunken mob in this tiny place, had summoned thick voices in song, and was driving them down the lane with the goad of his mad fiddle—a magnificent Welsh chorus, singing Christmas carols, in English, in an infinitesimal Welsh village, on a warm August night. Suddenly nothing seemed impossible, and as if the thought had loosed the house from stasis there was movement within.

“Is it always so grey and awful at the end of a case?” He didn’t answer me for a minute, then rose abruptly and stood looking down the road towards the house with the plane trees. When he looked around at me there was a painful smile on his lips. “Not always. Just usually.” “Hence the cocaine.” “Hence, as you say, the cocaine.”

The amazed adoration in her eyes was too much. I pulled her to me so I did not have to look at it. Her hair smelt musky-sweet, like chamomile. I held her, and she began to cry, weeping oddly like a woman rather than a young child, while I rocked us both gently in silence. In a few minutes she drew a shuddering breath and stopped. “Better?” She nodded her head against my chest. I smoothed her hair. “That’s what tears are for, you know, to wash away the fear and cool the hate.” As I suspected, that last word triggered a reaction. She drew back and looked at me, her eyes blazing. “I do hate them. Mama says I don’t, but I do. I hate them. If I had a gun I’d kill them all.” “Do you think you really would?” She thought for a moment, and her shoulders slumped. “Maybe not. But I’d want to.”

“Yes. They are hateful men, who did something horrid to you and hurt your parents. I’m glad you wouldn’t shoot them, because I shouldn’t want you to go to gaol, but you go ahead and hate them. No one should ever do what they did. They stole you and hit you and tied you up like a dog. I hate them too.” Her jaw dropped at so much raw emotion aired. “Yes, I do, and you know what I hate them for most? I hate them for taking away your happiness. You don’t trust people now, do you? Not like you did a few weeks ago. A six-year-old girl oughtn’t to be frightened of people.”

“You were brave, you were intelligent, you were patient. And as you say, it isn’t really over yet, and you’re going to have to be brave and intelligent and patient for a while longer, and wait for the anger and the fear to settle down. They will.” (And the nightmares? my mind whispered.) “Not right away, and they’ll never go away completely, but they’ll fade. Do you believe me?” “Yes. But I’m still very angry.” “Good. Be angry. It’s right to be angry when someone hurts you for no reason. But do you think you can try not to be too afraid?” “To be angry and—happy?” The incongruity obviously appealed to her. She savoured it for a moment and jumped to her feet. “I’m going to be angry and happy.”

No, I refuse to accept gallant stupidity in place of rational necessity.

“I dislike the idea of a murderer employing children,” said Holmes darkly. “It is, I agree, bad for their morals, and interferes with their sleep.”

The more I thought about it, the curiouser it became. What kind of human being would need a refuge capable of sustaining life in a siege?

“Good God, Holmes, where have you been to pick up such a stench? Down on the docks, obviously, and from your feet I should venture to say you’d been in the sewers, but what is that horrid sweet smell?” “Opium, my dear protected child.”

“The admission then caused me some shame. But, that was half a lifetime ago, and since then I have learnt, slowly, and painfully, that time and distance can prove a powerful weapon.”

The thought of telling someone, and having to see their face afterward, had always clamped my mouth down on the words, but now, to my exquisite horror and relief, I heard the words trickle from my mouth.

“I was merely going to say that I hope you realise that guilt is a poor foundation for a life, without other motivations beside it.”

#The Beekeeper’s Apprentice #year of book #fandom talks #Russell and Holmes

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