Also worthy of special mention is Benedict Cumberbatch, who has been in everything from 12 Years a Slave to The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (also see The Fifth Estate, and Star Trek Into Darkness) this year. He does an awesome job here playing against type as the insecure and clumsy son of Violet’s sister. It was odd hearing him with an American accent, but he pulls it off beautifully. (On a geeky side note, with McGregor and Cumberbatch both in this movie, this may be as close as we ever get to seeing Obi Wan Kenobi and Khan Noonien Singh in the same film – in case you were waiting for that.)
Swear to God, every time I get one of these lookalike gifs on my dash, i wanna write a ficlet for it
PLEASE write a fic! Please?
LOL you asked for it!
It wasn’t what she’d expected, when Sherlock asked her to join him for a weekend at his family home in Sussex. She’d thought it was a friendly visit, like when John and Mary had gone for Christmas, while she was in Australia visiting her mother - without the drugging, she’d laughingly warned him. It was nice, six months after The Magnussen Shooting, The Four Minute Exile, and The Moriarty Incident, to feel that life had returned to something resembling normal.
Then Sherlock had brought her up to what she’d thought was to be her room, with its sunny southern view and French doors onto a small balcony, only to discover that the consulting detective had something entirely different in mind.
She’d set her overnight bag on the floor and stepped to the French doors to admire the view when Sherlock had come up behind her and pulled her into an unexpected embrace. Things escalated quickly — how could they not, when it was a moment she’d been dreaming of for years? — and the next thing she knew, she and Sherlock were naked.
Her eyes had widened at the sight of his erect cock, hanging fat and long between his legs. Her concerns about fit were silly of course — a woman’s vagina was made to stretch to accomodate a baby, so a man’s cock couldn’t possibly be too large — but she couldn’t help wondering if she’d be able to take him entirely inside herself.
Sherlock had chuckled, that deep,husky voice of his so lovely when paired with easy good humor. “Oh, Molly,” he’d said as he laid her on the white duvet, “I’ll be sure to get you ready for me, never fear.”
Then he’d done just that, with his mouth and fingers, bringing out her natural lubricants as he worked her pussy into a sopping, sensitive mess. She’d nearly come, but he’d stopped when he felt she was on the brink, lifting her up in spite of her incoherent protests and taking her place on the bed. “Ride me, Molly,” he’d whispered, easing her down over his cock.
She braced herself on the handles of the French doors, wondering if he’d moved the bed away from the wall and towards thems with just this purpose in mind. Then all thoughts fled as she felt the tip of his cock entering her, and all she could do was gasp at the pleasure he gave her as she slowly sank down and allowed him to fill her.
Later, she would decide that Backwards Cowgirl would forever be her favorite position — and that the next time she and Sherlock made love in his old bedroom, she would be sure to draw the curtains first and spare Mycroft any future heartattacks.You are my favorite person