#enola holmes imagine

[ithebookhoarder]

En Garde (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)

Synopsis: Your husband has always been protective of you, given his line of work. However, when he offers to teach you the basics of self-defence, it quickly becomes clear that his intentions may not be quite so innocent after all... 

Warnings: Mild reference to bodily harm, light smutty behaviour, spoilers for the second film.

A/N: Oh, how I’ve missed Enola Holmes. I loved the books, and the films are just as great in their own way, so expect a bit of spam for the next few weeks - apologies in advance. 

Masterlist

“Now, try again-”

“-Sherlock-”

“No. Come on. Focus, darling. Once more, from the beginning. Eyes forward-” 

Oh, that was it. 

You were going to kill your husband. Slowly… and painfully… It would be the least he deserved, torturing you as he was. 

“Call me ‘darling’ one more time, husband,” you warned dangerously, “and see if I don’t shove this sword in your direction.” 

Why you agreed to this in the first place was beyond you, given that the day had so far been much more satisfying for him rather than you. 

After all, it had been Sherlock’s idea to help teach you the basics of self-defence - throwing a punch, dodging one, along with the fundamentals for using weapons such as a pistol, club, and now a sword (although when he thought you’d be in such a position to use one, you weren’t sure). 

Given his profession and the fact that his cases often lead to unplanned consequences, it had seemed a rather sensible idea at the start. His recent run in with the infamous Inspector Grail had rattled him, helpless to protect Enola everyone involved in the case from harm. 

Luckily, they had all survived, if not a little worse for wear - most of which was down to your skilled hands, having sewn, cleaned, and bandaged each and every wound they presented you with following the confrontation. 

You had seen the pain etched into Sherlock’s face that night, as you had helped wipe the blood from Enola’s head where she had been struck. He may have often denied having emotions, but the brotherly love and concern was all too clear to you as he seemed to blame himself somehow for failing to protect her. 

So, now, Sherlock was determined to equip you with the tools you may need should a similar situation ever arise. It made it an easy yes, to agree to his tutelage in the hopes of soothing both his and your concerns. That, and dare you even say it sounded like fun? 

Well, fun for you, yes, but evidently even more fun for your husband as it turned out.

Indeed, Sherlock was certainly a ‘hands-on’ kind of teacher and it had become clear early on that his focus was not entirely on developing your skills in combat. You didn’t have to be the detective to notice how his hands kept drifting to places they didn’t belong, or that his eyes seemed to be capitalising on the opportunity to observe your form in tight trousers as you lunged about the room. 

And that wasn’t the worst of it - in fact, for the past half an hour, he had been standing behind you, his chest pressed to your back, one of his hands covering yours as it gripped the hilt of the sword - or the foil, as he had informed you. 

As for the other, it was rather distracting, pressed against your stomach so as to allow your husband to correct your stance… or so he claimed, as he pulled you closer once again. 

“That’s it,” you huffed, trying and failing to ignore the sudden shiver that ran down your spine as he ground against you. “You are certainly having too much fun. Perhaps I should have asked Enola or Edith to be my tutor instead. At least they can be trusted to remain professional.” 

He scoffed, not sounding the least bit ashamed at the accusation.

“You wound me, wife,” he murmured, his lips grazing against your cheek, “After all, was it not you who said you didn’t wish to be a ‘maiden in need of rescuing’ should anyone wish you harm?”

“You know that I am neither a maiden, nor in need of rescuing, Mr Holmes.” Turning your head, you were quick to return the favour, letting your lips graze his teasingly. His soft groan was enough of a sign that your efforts appeared to be working. 

Two could play this game. 

“In fact, the only person I seem to need rescuing from right now is you, and your wandering hands.” 

You felt his laughter shaking through him, making it hard not to laugh yourself as he began peppering kisses to your neck. 

Clearly your lesson in swordplay would have to wait; it appeared he had a different kind of physical activity planned for you both. 

#enola holmes #Enola Holmes 2 #sherlock #Sherlock holmes #Sherlock Holmes x Reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes x y/n #Henry Cavill sherlock holmes #masterlist #ithebookhoarder #thesilentmage #henry sherlock #henry cavill #Henry Cavill x Reader #enola holmes imagine #enola 2

[espinosaurusrexex]

If Only You Would Know

HenryCavill!Sherlock x Female!Reader

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

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

word count: 4k

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

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And who would this accompany be?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You cannot stop me.”

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

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

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

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

“Thank you–“

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

Enola beamed. “Yes.”

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I suppose, yes.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“You sent her out to spy didn’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❁ ❁ ❁

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wanna be added to the Taglist?

@mi-amoree111 @xxinvisiblexx @lastwandastan @when-you-cant-think-of-anything @pevensiemadness @mrsgweasley @circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn

#megs imagines #sherlock holmes imagine #enola holmes imagine #enola holmes fanfic #enola holmes #sherlock holmes fluff #sherlock imagine #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes fanfic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #henry sherlock #enola holmes 2 #sherlock x y/n #sherlock holmes x fem!reader #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes #henry cavill sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x you

[frost-queen]

The moment I knew // part 5 (Reader!Bridgerton x Tewkesbury)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @cayt0123, @powwowsworld, @yomamacrusty, @mileyy22, @omgsuperstarg, @helen06dreamer, @misscaller06, @l4venderia

Summary: Finally it is your time to debut, yet your idea of a first ball does not go as you imagined. A mystery girl taking your place by his side. Can hearts be mended or shall they forever live in spite? [ part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 6 & part 7 part 8 & part 9 ]

The doors opened. The feeling of a breath held in. Slowly lifting your head. Eyes locking on the Queen. Her eyes slightly narrowed full of judgement from afar. Taking the first few steps, you kept your gaze on her. Walking by nobles of the ton. Your family amongst them. No matter how much you wanted to acknowledge them, you didn’t. The queen settled with ease on your walk. Then a stop. Taking a graceful deep curtsy for her. Anthony smiling proudly at you. Benedict pressed his lips together, turning his gaze away.

“I promised I wouldn’t cry.” – he whispered blinking rapidly with his lashes. Colin waving his hands before Benedict’s eyes to keep his eyes dry. When you rose gave the queen you a pleasant smile. Turning back around, you headed back. Francesca sighed dreamily. – “Now it is official.” – she whispered to Gregory. – “Now she can marry Tewkesbury.” – Gregory spoke looking back to Anthony.

“Hush.” – Anthony breathed out. Gregory’s gaze went to Colin seeing him mouth an ‘oh she will’ to him. Gregory chuckle turning to Hyacinth to whisper it in her ear. Hyacinth gasped loud making Anthony hush them. In the meantime had you returned to mama. Exhaling deep you flopped down into a chair. Immediately plucking the feather from your hair. You gave the thing a bored look before handing it over to mama.

“You were so graceful my dear. I suspect you’ll be the season’s diamond.” – Violet gushed letting her fingers slide over the feather. You laughed softly. Looking past mama, a girl caught your attention. Hair as brown as chestnut. A mischievous glance in her eyes and a charming smile on her lips. She briefly made eye contact with you before the doors opened for her.

Then she was off presenting herself to the Queen. Mama tapped you on the knee to sit more graceful. You changed your posture sitting better when the doors opened again. The same girl from before walking out. She barely left the entrance when she plucked the feather from her hair. You quirked your eyebrow up when she tossed her shoes off.

Bending down to pick them up and continue on barefoot. You huffed funnily at how little she seemed to care. Getting up you followed mama into another room. There you waited for the queen’s decision on who the diamond of the season would be. You didn’t really cared as you only cared about seeing Tewkesbury again.

After being a year parted from him, you desperately wanted to be with him. Dance the night away with him and declare your love for him. Violet puffed annoyed wrapping an arm around you when they didn’t announce you as diamond of the season. You re-joined with your siblings as Violet kept muttering complaints. You welcomed Benedict’s hug seeing he had cried a little. – “You’re a baby Ben.” – you whispered to him.

“I do not care.” – he whispered back. – “Everyone can see I cried because of my sister’s debut!” – he declared loudly embarrassing you a bit. – “Ben…” – you whispered seeing some nobles chuckle. - “Stop embarrassing her.” – Francesca pitched in slapping Benedict with her glove. Benedict jumped quickly hiding laughingly behind Anthony. Gregory and Hyacinth walked beside you, heading back to the carriage. – “Are you to marry Tewkesbury now?” – Hyacinth asked getting in with you.

“That is what I intend to do.” – you answered. Anthony joined your carriage. – “I do have a say in it.” – he made clear with a brotherly scowl. – “Try your best brother.” – you told him seeing Hyacinth giggle. Colin came squeezing himself in the carriage making Anthony move closer to Hyacinth. – “There is no changing her mind.” – he spoke sitting down. – “and that you must remember brother dear.” – you rubbed in with a pleasing smile.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

The entire household was in a rush. Benedict crossing the hallway while trying to put on his glove. Anthony making final checks on everyone. – “Colin your collar.” – he pointed out seeing it stick out. Colin sighed trying to fix it. Francesca approached him, slapping his hands away so she could fix it for him. Violet held her hand against the back of her hair. – “I’ve lost a pin.” – she called out searching the floor. Eloise joined them presenting herself mockingly to her family.

Anthony sighed loud not even the energy to speak about her lack of care in appearance. – “Eloise at least tie your shoes.” – he said scratching the back of his head. Eloise pulled her dress up, revealing her ankles as she looked dumbfound down at her shoes. Anthony turned his head looking up to the ceiling with a soft groan. – “I’ve send the wrong sister away for manners.” – he muttered to himself. – “Where is she anyways? Y/n!” – Anthony shouted out your name. You appeared from out of the parlor, all dressed up. – “Mama a pin.” – you said walking over to her.

Violet turned to so allowing you to adjust her hair. – “Eloise your ankles are showing.” – you told her without a second glance. Eloise looked down seeing that her sock was not pulled up high enough. She immediately bend down to pull it up. You stopped Benedict adjusting his cuffs. Anthony watching you with admiration. How mature you appeared. You noticed him staring making you furrow your brows. Anthony slightly shook his head, letting you know it was nothing. Grabbing Benedict’s arm, you followed the others outside to the carriages.

Your first attendance to a ball. Lady Danbury always hosted the first ball of the season. Once inside the carriage you felt the anxiety rise. Knee trembling whilst you fidgeted nervously with your fingers. Colin who sat beside you noticed it. Taking your hand, he put a stop to your fidgeting, bringing your hand to his knee. You thanked him with a warm smile. Feeling him squeeze your hand lightly, it eased your nerves. It was rather not the ball you were nervous off.

Rather seeing him again. A year. A year now you hadn’t seen him. Only his words written on paper to comfort you. Opening your reticule you looked down at the acorn inside of it. His promise buried inside of it. His promise of loving you. diving with your hand into the reticule, you held onto the acorn. Pressing it warmly against your palm. If you listened to your heart closely you could feel his words. His words of love for you.

Blink and it will pass. Indeed it has passed. The year you had been away from him felt at first like an eternity, till you had much fun and forgot to count the days. It no longer felt like agony, more like a deeper longing. Sometimes when you forgot to think about him, you felt guilty. Guilty of not having him in your mind. Would he forget about you too? Would he have days too where he forgot to think of you? Letting go of the acorn, you didn’t want to think of it. Pulling your hand back, you closed the reticule once more.

Eyes adverting to the shimmering dusk. Soft tints of orange and pink brewing behind a pressing darkening sky. Lady Danbury’s estate drew closer making you take a deep breath. – “Are you ready?” – Francesca asked you. You nodded. She extended her hand to you, making you let go of Colin’s hand to take hers. – “Don’t let anything stand in your way, Y/n. This is your season.” – she said encouraging. The carriage came to a stop. Colin stepped out as you had room to go closer to Francesca to give her a kiss on the cheek.

Colin waited for you to step out. Taking his hand, you stepped into the open air. Looking up to Lady Danbury’s estate. Out of the second carriage stepped out mama, Anthony, Benedict, and Eloise. Taking Anthony’s arm, he guided you inside. The warmth of her estate clasped around you like a blanket. The symphony of music becoming clearer as the doors opened. Dancers in sync as they twirled. Lady Danbury approaching to greet you all.

“Y/n Bridgerton, what a rare jewel you are.” – she complimented making you curtsy for her. – “Good luck to you.” – she smiled eyeing Anthony. Anthony swallowed nervously, not following immediately. Lady Danbury chuckled amusingly already seeing several interesting suitors looking your way. Smiling at herself, she walked off making Anthony more nervous than he already was. Getting on the tips of your toes, you looked around for a sign of Tewkesbury. Anthony saw two gentleman around their twenties hesitate to make their way over to you.

You gasped confused suddenly being pulled away by your brother. – “This is worse then I thought.” – he mumbled to himself, pushing a way through the crowd with you. – “I only have eyes for Tewkesbury.” – you reminded him. He turned to look at you with a hard stare. – “That I worry too.” – he confessed making you laugh pleasantly. Anthony came to stop where he had a good view of the entire ballroom from each side. He smiled noddingly seeing Colin and Benedict make their way through the crowd over to you. Francesca right behind them.

Francesca joined your side as your three brothers agreed on a set of rules regarding their sisters and possible suitors. – “Have you see him yet?” – she asked wrapping an arm around you. You shook your head, pulling yourself up to look around better. – “He’ll come and when he does you’ll be the first he dances with.” – she answered making eye contact with a young man her age. Anthony noticed it stepping in between Colin and Benedict to reach her and you. He came standing in front of her, shaking his head.

Benedict laughing loud. Anthony grabbed the both of you by the shoulders, pulling you away from the dance. – “Let us fetch a drink sisters.” – he spoke pushing you and Francesca forwards. Francesca smirked at his silly behavior. Benedict and Colin remained having a chat with each other. Colin was staring at the dancers, Benedict turned away from them to acknowledge mother from afar. Colin’s brows furrowed when a pair moved revealing a familiar face.

It was Tewkesbury. He sighed relieved having found him till he noticed the girl he was dancing with. Hair as brown as chestnut. He let her twirl under his arm, gaze constantly on hers till she rejoined him closely. – “Who is that?” – Colin wondered making Benedict turn around. His eyes fell upon Tewkesbury dancing with the young lady. – “Is that not…” – he questioned, Colin confirming his doubts. – “Tewkesbury with another.” – Benedict’s eyes widened looking sharply around to where you were. – “She cannot see this.” – he told Colin knowing how much it would break your tender heart.

Colin gasped anxiously seeing you return with Francesca and Anthony. Colin rushed over coming to block your view. He started you with his odd behavior. – “Anther drink sister?” – he questioned. – “Colin I just went to fetch one.” – you told him showing him the glass in your hand. Colin snatched it from your hand, drinking the lemonade in one gulp down. – “Another sister?” – he repeated. – “Colin!” – Anthony snapped at him.

“Colin what is with you?” – you questioned seeing him take a step aside to keep your view blocked out. Furrowing your brows something felt off. You leaned to the side to try and look as Colin blocked your view again. You tried the other way, getting the same result. – “What are you not letting me see.” – you asked loudly finding his behavior odd and annoyingly. Francesca groaned loud pushing him aside. – “Fran no!” – He called out as the view got cleared.

The dancers spun around as you saw Tewkesbury among them. Instantly you started to smile, till you noticed the girl stepping up to him, looking lovingly up in his eyes. Tewkesbury staring lovingly back at her. He waltzed with her around the room as you stumbled back, feeling like you were going to pass out. Francesca gasped loud, covering up her mouth. Anthony’s eyes widened with shock. – “I tried to shield you…” – Colin breathed out feeling a bit guilty.

Tewkesbury and the girl you recognized from the palace to meet the queen came to a stop. She twirled again under his arm, meeting up with him. Tewkesbury’s gaze was on her till his eyes shifted briefly to the side. His eyes staring in shock at yours. She stepped to the side, expecting him to follow when he didn’t. She furrowed her brows seeing him stare frozenly. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed you and your siblings. Heartbroken you turned around, wiping your cheek dry.

“Wait!” – Tewkesbury called out. – “Wait Miss Y/n!” – he moved to go after you, the girl needing to move to not be pushed over by him. Francesca went after you. – “Miss Y/n wait please.” – Tewkesbury said hastily reaching your brothers. Colin and Anthony blocking his path so he couldn’t follow you. – “Let me through! I need to speak with her!” – He said desperate and annoyed that your brother’s wouldn’t let him pass. Anthony grabbed him firmly by the shoulder. – “You stay away from her!” – He called out, pushing him away.  – “Miss Y/n!” – Tewkesbury called out loud catching the attention of many bystanders.

Benedict joined his brothers, leaving through the crowd. Tewkesbury stood still feeling a sudden hand on his shoulder. Looking to his side he saw Enola by his side. She motioned for him to follow her. Meanwhile had Francesca caught up with you. She had taken a hold of your elbow, pulling you to a stop. You turned round, letting yourself fall against her chest. Crying loudly as she comforted you. How betrayed you felt. While you remained loyal to him, had he found someone else.

Someone else to cherish and confess his love to. What a fool you have been. A fool for love to think someone would remain loyal to you. To have believed his words with such truth. It hurt with every inch inside of you, hating that you still wanted him. Your brothers joined your side, having found the two of you. – “I knew it!” – Anthony called out making Benedict glare at him for not being the right time. Colin wrapped his arms around you. He could not believe it.

Firsthand he had seen how caring Tewkesbury was towards you. Firsthand he had witnessed the pure love between the two of you. A love story crumbling down to ashes with the coming of another. Nothing more you wished to leave the ball. Benedict agreed, leading you towards the doors to leave for the hallway. – “Miss Y/n!” – you suddenly heard, catching Tewkesbury hasten his way over to you.

“Miss Y/n please.” – he begged coming closer. Benedict and you came to stop. Benedict stopped him by his shoulder, not letting him come any further. – “I’m going home, my lord.” – you said with a stiff curtsy. Benedict let go of him as you turned round. Tewkesbury grabbed for the ribbon on your back, wanting to hold you.

He felt the fabric slip through his fingers when you walked away from him. Lowering his head, he watched the doors close before his eyes. Benedict and you got into the carriage, returning home. Numbly you stared out of the window. Had you hoped too much?

----------------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

#imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #francesca bridgerton #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #lord tewksbury #tewkesbury x reader #tewkesbury x #tewkesbury x you #tewkesbury x y/n #tewkesbury imagine #enola holmes #enola holmes imagine #tewkesbury fic #tewkesbury fanfiction #bridgerton brothers #tewkesbury fanfic #bridgerton imagine

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine a battle of words with Mycroft Holmes when you arrive to help...

You knew he could be brash and downright awful but, clearly, you had forgotten what it was like to personally hear his verbal onslaught.

‘Perhaps, Enola should be granted some freedom’… that was the simple statement that had thrown Mycroft Holmes into a bind.

“Freedom? Of course you would think that to be a good idea.” The suited man scoffed from where he stood by the shelves. His posture was wrought with unbelievable stress at the knowledge of his sisters upbringing. 

Sherlock had silently taken to the pool table, his mind was likely toiling on the puzzle of their missing mother but you suspected his ear tuned in on the conversation in the room.

“Enola should be conforming to higher societal standards. It’s embarrassing to the family name.” Mycroft carried on and his eyes landed on you. “You might not be aware Y/n but ‘family names’ are incredibly important to be maintained in this day and age. Not everyone has the misfortune to be as careless as you.”

Sometimes you thought Mycroft was decent, maintaining poise and decorum in high positions of power - then he would cast an insult without notice and you remembered why you didn’t enjoy his company.

Quirking a brow, you crossed your arms and stared at the man who threw the accusation. 

“It might be a bit early to test my patience Mycroft when you were the one to consult my services.” You told him bitterly.

“Only upon Sherlock’s insistence. Do you honestly think I would want you involved in a family affair?”

This time, you scoffed.

“It’s incredible to think that you demand respect but refuse to give any.”

The noise by the pool table had gone quiet as the tension between yourself and Mycroft had caught Sherlock’s attention.

Letting out a calm exhale, you took a step back and looked over at the second Holmes brother. “I’m going back to London. I’m not in the habit of working with someone who undermines my worth.” Sherlock sent a curt nod in reply, accepting your leave. “You know where to find me.”

~ More imagines here ~

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #sherlock imagine #sherlock x reader #mycroft holmes imagine #mycroft holmes x reader #sherlock holmes imagine #Sherlock Holmes x Reader #enola homes x reader #enola holmes imagine

[make-me-imagine]

Hold My Hand

Plot: Tensions and feelings arise when you and Sherlock end up in a precarious situation when running from a murderer.

Prompts: Forced Proximity, Sexual Tension (mild), “Hold my hand and don’t you dare let go.” <changed slightly, I hope you don't mind

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes) x Gn!Reader

Written for @multifandomfix for their birthday event. Happy Birthday! I couldn't decide on one prompt so I kind of mashed a bunch together lol.

Warnings: Nothing really.

Words: 1k.

A/N: After watched Enola Holmes 1&2 I've been debating writing for Sherlock. I have a Christmas fic planned for him, and I thought this might be a good time to test it out. Also I had no idea what to title this lol.

-

Your throat was hoarse as you ran down the cobblestone street. You glanced behind you, seeing the man chasing you not far behind. Glancing to your right, you saw Sherlock, jaw clenched, hair flying as he ran beside you.

When you agreed to help Enola with her current case - which she fervently assured you wold be an easy one - running from a murderous and crooked inspector with Sherlock Holmes beside you, was not how you thought it would end up.

Slipping through a small group of people, you stumbled to a stop, as your eyes cast over the busy market square.

"The market?" You asked out of breath.

"Yes, we could lose him in here."

The bustling crowds would surely provide you cover from your assailant, giving you time to lose him, but you risked being split up in the busy crowd.

Apparently Sherlock had this same thought, as you felt his hand reach down and grab your own. You felt your heart jolt in your chest as you looked from his hand, to his eyes, which he locked with yours.

"Hold my hand and don't let go." His voice was tense, and his gaze sharp.

You nodded, before he quickly started off into the crowded market. His hand was gripped tightly around yours as you ran close behind him, slipping through the crowds of people.

Looking back behind you, you spotted the familiar bowler hat of the man chasing you, as he bobbed through the crowd. You could tell he was losing sight of you as he hesitated in his steps.

"Were losing him!" You called to Sherlock as you weaved past a large group of vendors.

Taking a sharp left, and slipping past a market stall, Sherlock pulled you into a thin, darkened crevasse of an alleyway.

The alleyway forced proximity between the two of you, as your chests pressed together. You felt Sherlock slowly let go of your hand. You moved your hands and planted them against the wall behind you. The pressure of Sherlock's grip slowly fading.

Noting the closeness of your bodies, you found yourself holding your breath. Your eyes locked for a moment and you felt something pass between you, before you both broke eye contact and peered out into the crowds.

If your sudden avoidance of eye contact was to avoid the tension that palpitated between you, or to look for your assailant, you weren't sure.

Your eyes moved from one person to another, waiting to see the man pass by. After a few moments of not seeing him, you felt nervousness and relief wash over you. You may have lost him for now, but he could be anywhere.

Looking back to Sherlock, you felt a small jolt course through you, as you saw his eyes already locked on you. You felt the back of your neck heat up, as his eyes bored into you.

The detective had made you nervous from the moment you met him. The way his eyes seemed to follow your every movement, the way he studied you, you couldn't help but wonder what he could see. It had to be something notable since he seemed determined to keep you with him since he agreed to help Enola with her case a day prior.

Finally breaking the tension that seemed to be growing heavier between you, you spoke with a hushed voice. "What now?"

Sherlock seemed to snap out of his thoughts as you spoke. He paused for a moment as he took a breath.

"Now, we slip out into the crowd, grab something that could disguise us, and find our way back to Enola. Hopefully she and Tewkesbury have gathered the evidence she needed while we were being chased through London. She should have had plenty of time. Once we have it, we take the evidence to Lestrade, and then-" He paused, his voice going silent.

You rose your brow lightly "And then?" You asked.

"And then-" He began, his voice soft, but you saw his thought falter as he spoke "And then the case is done."

You weren't sure why you thought he intended to say something else, but you felt the disappointment of it anyways. You nodded your head as you forced yourself to look away from him.

Peering out into the crowds, you mumbled softly. "Sneak out. Find a disguise. Find Enola. Case closed. Sounds easy enough."

Looking back at Sherlock, he had a soft smile on his face "Something Sounding easy, and being easy don't always coincide."

You smiled softly and shrugged your head "I guess we'll find out if it does this time."

As you began to step out from the alleyway, you jumped back when you felt Sherlock grab your hand

"Wait."

"What?" You asked as you looked around hurriedly "Did you see him?"

"No, no, we're fine, it's just..."

You eyed him with curiosity as he seemed lost for words. "What is it Sherlock?"

"I- I don't know how much time we will have to talk once we leave this alley and get back to Enola."

You felt your heartbeat speed up as your neck grew hot again. It was unusual seeing Sherlock Holmes uncertain.

"Yes..?"

"I- I have enjoyed my time with you these last few days. You...pique my interest in ways I find to be unexpected. So, if- if it is desirable to you. Perhaps, once this case is over, you would be willing to have dinner with me?"

His previously downcast gaze slowly rose to meet yours. The restraint you had to use not to show your surprise was great. But you remained stoic, before you smiled softly at him.

"I would love to have dinner with you Sherlock."

You saw the small hint of relief wash over his face before he smiled. With a nod of his head he spoke softly "Great. I could pick you up tomorrow, around six?"

You repressed the grin pulling at your face as you nodded "Alright, six it is."

His smile grew wider for a moment before he remembered your current situation. He cleared his throat.

"Perhaps we should go now, before we are found here."

You were jolted back into the moment as you nodded your head "Yes, right."

You both spared each other soft knowing smiles before you slipped from your hideaway. Sherlock's hand reluctantly slipped away from yours as you quickly returning to your previous business. But both of you anew with an excited and expectant energy.

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

I have every intention of writing at least one more Sherlock fic, so if you wish to be tagged in that, or any future Sherlock fics, let me know! (Please be specific which Sherlock Holmes as there are multiple I write for)

#sherlock holmes x reader #enola holmes imagine #cavill!sherlock holmes x reader #enola holmes sherlock x reader #i dont know what to tag him as to make it easy to seperate from other sherlocks lol #enola holmes reader insert #henry cavill x reader #sherlock holmes (enola holmes) imagine #cavill!sherlock holmes imagine #cavill!sherlock holmes fic #birthday writing challenge #multifandomfix #multifandomfix birthday event #sherlock holmes/reader #fic #oneshot #cavill!sherlock holmes #enola holmes

[scarthefangirl]

Every step of the way

Sherlock Holmes x wife!reader

Request: Discovering that, after already more than ten years of marriage, she expects their first child.

Warnings: none

Story type: blurb

A/N: okay I'm not that proud of this but yk, it was requested. Its a cute idea I just don't think I did it justice

Masterlist | REQUESTS OPEN

Once you were sure, you started crying. Not a pretty 'few tears down your cheeks' cry, a full on sob. It had been ten years of trying. Ten. And it finally worked.

He was out on a case so I had time to mentally prepare myself for telling him. I knew he’d be happy, but it was still nerve racking. I found myself picking at the skin of my lip anxiously. 

It was two days before he arrived home, and he got home late. I knew he was exhausted but I on the other hand felt exhilarated. 

“How was the case?” I asked.

“It closed up pretty simply,” He answered. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” 

“There’s something making you nervous.” He exclaimed. Gosh, the struggle of marrying a detective. 

“No, I’m okay.” Why was I lying? I wanted to tell him.

“You’ve been picking at your lip, you do that when you’re nervous. And you normally rush me to get to sleep because of my exhaustion.” He told me. I looked at the ground, unable to match his concerned, yet firm, gaze.

“I have something to tell you. It’s good news.” 

“What is it darling?” 

“I’m pregnant.” I now looked up at his face. I saw the shock be washed over with joy.

“That’s great!” He exclaimed happily.

“I know!” He pulled me into his arms and held me against him. I felt tears rolling down my face, happy tears.

“I’m going to be here, every step of the way.” He hugged me tighter.

~

#Sherlock Holmes #sherlock holmes imagine #enola holmes #enola 2 #enola and sherlock #enola holmes imagine #enola holmes fanfic #enola holmes x reader #henry cavill

[hey-its-roseaurum]

Guilty until Proven Innocent-Part I

A/N: Hey everyone. Thank you for taking the time to look at this story. This is for a collaboration with @lainiespicewrites. She is an excellent writer and I figured it was my turn to stretch my writing muscles and put something out into the world. This is my first Henry Cavill fic, so please don't be too harsh. Anyways, enjoy!

Synopsis: After recent murders in town, You (Olivia) decide to train with Edith in the art of self-defense. In the middle of training, you got a mysterious knock on the door. Sherlock walks in, looking for assistance with his latest case. He offers you to partake in a partnership to help him in his latest case? Do you take it?

Warnings: mentions of death

“You’re progressing nicely Olivia.”  Edith smiled from above me, her elbow pinning me to the floor mat.  There wasn’t a hint of sweat along her forehead.  She had taken me down in less than a minute. The worst part was I thought I was going to land a hit on her this time.

”I’m beginning to think that you’re just saying that to soothe my pride”. I rasped out.  She had eased her hold on me and stood up, extending a hand.

”Nonsense.  Look how far you’ve come since you first stepped in these doors.  Pretty soon you’ll be able to hold your ground with me.”  She exclaimed as I grabbed her hand and hoisted myself up.  My back had long since started throbbing.

For the past few weeks, I have been meeting Edith at her office to train and learn self-defense.  Ever since the first girl went missing and was later found dead in the street I hadn’t been able to sleep soundly.  There were constant, nagging thoughts that made me question if I was going to be the next victim.  It had only gotten worse when they found the next girl a week later in the middle of an alleyway that I frequently visited.  Her throat had been cut. 

In London, it was ill-advised for a woman, especially of noble birth, to consider something as trivial as self-defense.  Women are supposed to be soft, elegant, and passive. All of the trouble and responsibility in making decisions was for the men. 

 Being passive and soft didn’t save those girls from their cruel end.

And I wasn’t going to let myself become like them.  I refuse to be the next girl that falls victim to this.  So I went to my dear friend Enola at her detective agency and inquired about a solution to my predicament.  She sent me over to Edith and had me start training the next day.  I’ve been training every day since then.

I’m still not really good at it.

”Did you say the same thing when you were teaching Enola?”  I inquired as I dusted myself off.  Edith only shook her head.

”Not exactly.  Her response was more witty, thanks to her mother.”  Eudoria Holmes, the mother, the fire starter as people liked to call her.  I’ve seen her wanted poster splayed all across London.  But I didn’t see her as a criminal.  I saw her as the woman who saved my life six months ago.

That morning had been cold and bitter.  I remember feeling my fingers grow numb while I huddled against a mailbox.  Its red paint had chipped away at its base, leaving rust behind.

Which was ironic and poetic now that I think back on it.  And let me explain why.

It all started when my father had recently passed from a sickness that left my mother and me penniless.  With no man in the house and no money to our name, we were cast out of society.  My mother and I were thrown out and the estate that I called my home.   It was sold to another noble family in the south.

We lived off the street after that.  My mother, using what knowledge she had of needlework, had acquired a job as an assisted seamstress.  I was left to salvage whatever pity people gave me and half-rotten food from dumpsters.

Eventually, we were able to afford a small cottage on the outskirts of town.  It was small, run-down, and often had a damp smell to it.  Mother didn’t like to be there for a long period.  She claimed it was because she was so busy with her duties to the seamstress that she didn’t have time to spend there.  I think it was because she missed her life at the estate and living in this small broken cottage was too much for her to bear.

That morning six months ago I decided to go into town to fill my water bucket and get bread before it got too crowded.  When I got there, I sat down by the mailbox to wait for the bakery to open.  I was particularly annoyed when I saw a lot of people around this early in the morning.

I was watching a man get onto a carriage when something shifted from the corner of my eye.  It had been a man, or what I thought was a man walking towards me with a package in their hand.  When we made eye contact I didn’t think anything of it.  I just watched them and noted how stiff they walked. They placed the package in the slot of the mailbox.  Before I knew it, I was grabbed by the elbow, hoisted upright, and pulled away from the mailbox.  

That mailbox exploded, releasing a whirlwind of fliers into the air.

The two of us had run from the police.  I was forced to since they refused to let go of my hand.  We ran until this stranger knew that they weren't being followed.  

When things settled down, the man revealed that they were a woman in disguise.  She introduced herself as Eudoria Holmes and then proceeded to lecture me about being near explosives as if she were my own mother.  All I had wanted to do was bite back, to lecture her on how she shouldn’t be putting explosives where there were people.

Instead, I broke down, not from her lecturing but because of something I couldn’t quite place. All I knew was that I was waiting for a soggy piece of bread and nearly got blown up.

In the end, I told her everything.  I told her my past, my current situation, and why I was even in town in the first place.  One thing kind of led to another.  The next thing I knew I was sitting in Eudoria’s house with a cup of tea in my hand.

I stayed in that damp cottage less and less as time passed and more at Eudoria’s warm, often chaotic home.  That’s where I became friends with Enola, had briefly met her two brothers Sherlock and Mycroft, and felt somewhat happy.  

I don’t know why she pulled me away from that mailbox.  The one time I asked her she said she saw something in me, some sort of fire in my eye.  She didn’t want it to go out along with the mailbox.

I didn’t believe her, but I couldn’t tell that to her.

“So what you’re trying to say is that I still have a long way to go,” I asked as my brain jumped back to the present.  I stepped away from the mat and made my way into her office.

”What I’m saying is you’re doing better than you think you are.  You just began learning.  Give yourself a little credit.”  Following me, she made her way to the table by the window.  A stack of teacups were messily stacked up to one side.  She grabbed two, placed them on saucers, and poured liquid into both.  

“I know.  I’m just…worried.  It’s been a week since the last victim was found and the police still haven’t found the suspect.”  I let out a sigh and sipped some of my tea.  I needed a moment to choose my words carefully.  “I just want to be…prepared.”

A heavy pause filled the air before either of us spoke.  

”Olivia…there’s more to that, isn’t there?” Edith’s words were soft and gentle.

“I mean I-“. My response was sharply cut short.

A knock pulled our attention away from our conversation and to the door.  A tall man entered from the training room and to Edith’s office.  I couldn’t place if he looked tall because of his size, or because of the giant top hat sitting snugly on top of his head.  Dark wavy strands of hair peaked through from under his hat. 

”Have you any sense what time it is?”  Edith interrogated, crossing her arms.  The man took off his hat, revealing thick brown locks.  His sculpted jawline and nose complimented the hair.  Blue, mesmerizing eyes glanced around, investigating.

But the feature that I recognized right away from him was his shoulders.  I knew those shoulders.

”Hello, Edith” His attention briefly shot to me “Olivia”  I curtly nodded, averting my eyes.

”Good evening Mr. Holmes.”  I responded softly.  “With what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” Holmes.  Sherlock Holmes.  One of Enola’s older brothers. One of the greatest detectives I’ve ever seen.

”There’s no need for formalities Olivia.”  I felt something warm begin to grow on my cheeks at his response.  He’s only being polite Olivia.  We are only acquaintances because of Enola and Eudoria.  He doesn’t like you like that.

Or does he?  

I’m not sure.

Sherlock Holmes is a difficult man to understand.

“What are you here for Sherlock?”  Edith asked again, harsher this time.  Her tone quickly pulled me back to the present and away from my thoughts.  

Sherlock cleared his throat, his blue eyes revealing some sort of inner turmoil within himself.  It was an unusual amount of emotion that I was not used to seeing.  I expected it with Mycroft, he practically wore his emotions on his face at all times.  Sherlock never did.  He’s always been composed, and proper.  Before me now he still was, but a layer of some sort had been chipped away.

”I….need your help.”  He struggled to say the words like it was almost painful to him.  A moment of silence clung in the air.  

”Is it about Enola?   Did she get herself into trouble?”  There was a hint of concern in Edith’s voice when she begged the questions.  The only response he gave was a small shake of his head. I watched as realization flashed on her face. 

”There’s something about this case-“. 

”That deduction cannot solve?”  Edith finished his thought.  He slightly nodded, setting his hat down on her desk.  That was my cue. I softly placed my teacup down and made my way to the table by the window.  I began making some tea for Sherlock while listening to the conversation.

”I may need your…skills to get information from a place I cannot enter.”

“What kind of place?”  He listed off a name that I didn’t recognize.  Edith’s face slightly reddened.

”A showgirl theatre?! You cannot ask me such a thing Sherlock, no matter how close we are.”  My eyebrows raised as I grabbed a cup and saucer and poured some tea into the cup.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t have another option.  A woman’s life is at stake.” His tone was calm, but there was something else there.

”But going into this with the possibility of getting murdered is not something I’m comfortable with.  Woman’s freedom and rights is one thing, going after a serial killer is a whole other matter entirely”

”Edith, I-“. I cut them off.

”I’ll do it.  I’ll go instead of you.”  In their arguing, I had made my way back to the two of them, Sherlock's tea in hand.  I had left mine behind.

”Olivia, do you know what kind of place that is, what situations you can get into.  You’re nowhere near ready to hold your ground”. What she said was like a punch to the gut.  

I knew I wasn’t ready, we had that same conversation not thirty minutes ago.  But I knew that if Edith went and something bad had happened to her Enola and Eudoria would be devastated.  I was different.  If I went and something happened to me, Edith would still be here training more girls like me.

”Who else is going to do it?  Enola?  She’s not expendable. I am.  And Edith, what about the other girls you train?” I took a breath, the stubbornness in me growing. “Besides, I know these streets better than anyone.  I’ve lived in them.  I know where to go in case I’m being followed.   And because of the way I look,”. I paused briefly looking down at myself, at my curvy, plump figure.  “No one would suspect me.  They would just see me as a showgirl trying to make ends meet.  I can blend in, go undercover, and get the information that he needs in order to catch this murderer.”

A heavy pause hung between the three of us.

I let what I said sink into the two of them.  I know that Edith is fighting with herself on whether she can let me go.  She believes that I am her responsibility, and I kind of was while Eudoria was undercover.  But since starting to learn to defend myself I told myself that I couldn’t sit and wait.  Sitting and worrying about who the next victim is going to drive me crazy.  If I can help and make a difference, then maybe the suspect will be caught before there’s more tragedy.  

”I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to her.”  Sherlock’s voice broke the silence and my inner thoughts.  “You have my word.”  His eyes met mine at his.  I felt something else there besides the promise.   Edith sighed,  rubbing her temples with both her index fingers.

“Okay, Sherlock.  Just…make sure she comes back in one piece.”   Edith finally concurred.  “You’re going to have to speak to your mother if you don’t.”

A smile tugged at my lips at the agreement.  I finally raised the cup of tea, offering it to him.    

”When do we start?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. If you want to read @lainiespicewrites story about Paul Atreides from the Dune Sage, here is her link: https://www.tumblr.com/lainiespicewrites/747032352877903872/the-atreides-era?source=share

#writers on tumblr #female writers #enola 2 #sherlock fandom #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #Sherlock holmes x oc #henry sherlock #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x female reader #sherlock holmes imagine #first story #sherlock fanfic #fandom #fandom community #fanfic #smut #writers and poets #my writing #part 1 #henry cavill shoulders #henry shoulders #enola holmes imagine

[jamiedc-they-them]

Being Enola Holmes' sibling:

You've always been the quieter one out of the two.

Your mother worked with you on that, trying to help you find ways to communicate if you didn't want to talk. She was happy to help.

You were less of a fighter than Enola was. More creatively gifted.

Still, your sister and you could - and would - communicate through only a stare or a look.

She always tried to keep you involved in what she was doing.

Your mother saw your interest in the word 'they' in books. You would refer to people like that without even thinking.

You would immediately correct yourself however as if you had made a mistake.

"Do you want to be referred to that way, Y/N?" Your mother asked. And, as much as you shook your head, she knew you better than that.

So, without thinking, your mother and your sister would. Even if you seemed to pause, or flinch at it.

As Enola and you road to the station, she would mention you to...well, the audience, "and then there is my sibling, Y/N. Which I think is a scrumptious name. However...they have been more withdrawn lately. It worries me, truth be told."

Still, your mother goes missing. It feels like a part of you is gone too. Your peace has been disturbed.

Enola, despite your protests, sticks up for you against your brothers and Miss Harrison. With both the pronouns and how they are treating you both.

When she gets slapped for her disobedience, you feel terrible.

You aren't wild children, just children who have been abandoned by your mother.

You were never one for abiding by all social rules. You made your own. You especially, it was one of the many things your sister admired about you.

You and Enola stick together. Going to the tree together. You don't need to talk, just each other's company is enough.

Your creativity comes into play as you help solve the first puzzle that your mother left behind.

"Brilliant deduction, Y/N!"

She's always been your biggest supporter.

So, off the two of you go. Breaking the rules once again, dressing how you shouldn't.

Enola sees a light in your eyes. And she couldn't be happier.

You both run into Tewksbury. He, correctly, identifies you both as not boys.

"Why isn't --"

"Arent they," Enola corrects.

"Sorry?"

"They."

"...Right. Of course, sorry. Why aren't...they, talking?"

"Maybe they don't want to waste their voice talking to someone like you," Enola says, looking at you and seeing your discomfort at this moment, and leaving with you.

However, as he said to you that people were after him, when a man passes you and enters your previous place of residence on the train, you can guess why.

You tap Enola on the shoulder, pointing back to where you were.

"No. Please, can we just move on? He's not worth it."

You shake your head, going back. Enola, always having your back, follows. Even if she doesn't like this idea.

You both help Tewksbury and run to the edge of the train.

Together, the three of you jump to escape.

Enola looks to you, first to check on you - but you are just cleaning yourself off as best you can, but also to show her exasperation at Tewksbury never shutting up.

"I wish you would be like, Y/N. Honestly."

Tewksbury, however, continues to talk. He asks you who you are, and who you actually are. Why you've run away. Where you are going.

As Enola continues to get frustrated with him, you put your eyes on the flowers and nature around you, instead.

The pair stop as they realise you aren't following them. Enola looks with a smile, while Tewksbury looks confused. You pick out a flower and put it in your shirt pocket. He tells you a bit about it, you nod, a light in your eyes as you learn more about the flower.

Then, excitedly, you jog past them, gesturing for them to follow. The pair do.

You've found a good place to camp.

Using what your mother taught you, you both set it up.

Not interested in getting to know your new traveling companion, you go to sleep first.

"Why --"

"Sh!" Enola whispers, gesturing to you.

Tewksbury nods, "why don't they talk?" he asks, more gently, this time, "and...they? It doesn't seem to fit."

"It does for them," she says, firmly, "as for the talking part, it's just never been something they've ever done."

"Don't you find that...odd?" he's not sure how to word it in a way that doesn't sound mean.

Enola, however, seems to understand it. She shrugs, "not really. It's just been who they are. I've never known them any other way, really."

"Are you not worried that...other people might see them that way?"

Enola looks to the fire, shrugging again. This time a sag to her shoulders, "I don't think the world would be that kind to me, either."

"Me neither," Tewksbury admits.

Enola looks at him with a smile, maybe he's not so bad after all.

The next day, you notice, Enola is more happy. She has a spring in her step. Finally, you all make it to London.

As you bit farwell to Tewksbury, with Enola him and having some banter about names, it's just the pair of you now.

You nudge her. She nudges you back, "shut up."

You raise your hands, before signing, "I didn't say anything."

She just chuckles, leading you both into the city.

It's...big. And scary. And loud.

You take Enola's hand and squeeze it.

She holds it the whole time, making sure you know she's with you.

You make to the clothes shop.

"Sorry," you sign to her as you enter the store, finally releasing her hand.

"It's alright," she reassures, "it's a lot for me too."

While Enola finds her clothes easily, you are more of a trouble.

You go through each one carefully, checking the fabric and colour.

Despite your mother being missing, Enola lets you take all the time you need. You got the mirror countless times, before finally settling.

"I knew you'd like that one," she says.

You get to work on the letters to try find the next hint to finding your mother. That leads you to a friend, then to a place filled with explosives and other not-so-nice things.

As Enola leaves, you are dragged back by the man from the train.

He dunks your head underwater, bringing you up and asking about Tewksbury, "not speaking, eh?" he says, shoving your head underwater again.

You wish he knew the irony.

Still, while not being as good at fighting as Enola, you get out of his grip and run. Your sister finds you, stopping you as you catch your breath, "what's wrong? what happened?"

She gets her answer as the man comes around the corner. She puts you behind her.

She goes in for the fight. As you freeze.

She gets thrown against the wall, but as she recovers, she gives you a wink. She's got this.

She gives the same to the man, before getting back into the fight.

You then look back to the warehouse. The dynamite. You can use that as...an escape. Somehow, you haven't really thought that far ahead.

As if reading your mind, Enola lures him with the fight to a different one, as you go to the other.

You light the fuse.

Then. BOOM.

With the fireworks going off, you sprint out, Enola joining you as the two of you escape.

Later, you dry yourself off as Enola sits by the fireplace, trying to repair her stabbed dress.

You sit by her, "are you ok?"

She looks to you with a smile, "I'm ok."

You nod, but your smile isn't true. You look to the fire, guilt eating up at you.

Enola looks to you after a moment of silence, "you saved us, Y/N," she says, as if reading your mind, "maybe I am," ok, it's not getting creepy, "it is."

You chuckle. You silently, but still, it's a chuckle.

"I mean it," she waits until you look at her before she continues, "you did save us. You survived him, and bought us the time we needed. You did that."

You smile a true one this time. Yes, you did.

Enola's smile grows at this.

You both agree to save Tewksbury.

The two of you continue on your investigation. Dressing up as a grieving family.

It hurts Enola to have to use the wrong pronouns with you. But, you understand it's for a cover.

Still, it reminds you of the oppressive world you live in.

You let Enola climb up the treehouse, scared of heights yourself. But also because she'd be quicker.

You meet Tewksbury Grandmother, who calls you an 'odd little thing' at you not talking, only pointing up as she asks where your sister is.

Finally, you find him selling flowers. You give him your flower. He spins it, before looking at you thankfully, knowing what it means: you're on his side. Maybe even friends.

You take him back to where you and Enola are staying, but are interrupted by Lestrade.

You and Enola hold the door back. She tells him to run --

Then she looks to you, "you too, Y/N."

You shake your head. No way. You're not leaving your sister. Your best friend.

"Please," she begs, the door once again budging, "I need you to do this for me. I need you to be safe, ok? You can trust Tewksbury. Even if he is a stupid boy," she looks to the boy who is by the window. She sends him a silent request. One he nods at.

She looks back at you one more time, "I'll be sent to a school, that's all that will happen to me. I can't have that happen to you. You need to change the world with that mind of yours, Y/N. Please, please go."

While not wanting to, you do go.

Tewksbury is...well, to be honest, he's lost.

Both in where to go now, but also how to help you.

You're crying. But your facial expression hasn't changed. It's as if, although you're moving, you're frozen in time.

"It will be ok. We'll get through this," he hopes. But even he isn't sure.

"Where...do you know of anywhere we can go?" he asks.

After all, you are both only two frightened children, on the run from god knows how many people.

It takes a bit, but you end up going back to the campsite you made when you first got off the train.

Your face has changed now, going into one of stubbornness. You nudge him, gesturing if he has something to write on. He does, bringing out a crumpled bit of paper and pen. You write on it, giving it to him. Using the firelight, he reads it: "We can't leave her. It's not in our family's blood to just leave."

"I don't mean to be rude, but it does seem to be. With your...mother and brothers," he tries to say it as gently as he can.

You, however, shake your head. He gives you the tools again, and your scribble something else down, this time more harshly.

"Well, I'm going to change that," the words say.

He looks back at you, "how?" he asks.

He sees a spark in your eye.

He knows you have a plan.

Enola gets a box. Opening it, she holds back her scream as you jump out of it.

"Y/N?" she asks, in disbelief.

You nod, doing a little 'ta-da' pose.

She hugs you, tight.

"Oh, I never thought I'd see you again!" she says, cheered up now, as you both spin.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, quietly.

"Saving you," you sign.

"Y/N...I can't leave," she says, defeated.

You tap her on the shoulder, simply pointing from the box to her.

"Oh. Oh, you genius!" She says, giving you another hug. Hurriedly, she gets in.

People who catch you dragging her out, get tired of your sign language. While it stings, it does help get them out of the way.

Once out, you escape on Miss Harrison's bike.

You all go to the estate, ready to end this.

You are, once again, ambushed by the man from the train.

Enola shoves you into cover, trying to fight the man off. She is thrown on the floor.

Looking to Tewksbury, his target, and the armour you see around you, you nudge him, pointing to it and then back to him. When he goes to question what you mean, you run out of cover, letting out a whistle, gaining the other man's attention. He fires at you, just missing.

Enola, however, sees him reloading, and uses her jujitsu move on him to take him down.

Tewksbury's grandmother then comes out with a shotgun. Before either of you can react, Tewksbury is shot, hitting the floor. Enola cries out his name as you both run to him. She has tears running down her face, you are worried, but you are also praying.

Thankfully, that time you bought Tewksbury pays off as much as it did for Enola, he had used some armour from the suits to protect himself.

"You can thank Y/N for my survival," he says, sending a thankful look your way. You give him a smile and a hand squeeze.

As Enola and you help him up, you all knock your heads together.

You're all ok.

Your mother reveals herself to you after you both say goodbye to Tewksbury.

She hugs you both, "oh, my children. How you have grown."

"Y/N saved us more times than I can count."

"I knew they would."

"It took some encouraging."

"As anything does."

You tap them both, making them turn to you, "they are right here," you sign. They chuckle but also notice how you're using your pronouns now.

After having to say goodbye to your mother again, the two of you go out into the streets of London.

"Together?" your sister asks you, holding out her hand to you.

You nod, taking her hand.

You have your sister and yourself.

You know who you are now.

Just as she does.

Because your futures are up to you.

PART 2

#enola holmes imagine #enola holmes x reader #platonic enola holmes #enola holmes

[swanimagines]

ENOLA HOLMES AO3 SERIESES

EVERYTHING FOR ENOLA HOLMES

Enola Holmes (character)

Tewkesbury

Sherlock Holmes

Mycroft Holmes

(Any of the other characters don't have any requests written nor pending as for now, so I'm unable to have serieses for them as AO3 requires you to have at least one oneshot written to be able to add it to a series, and I can't promise serieses for characters who don't have requests pending/I have no ideas of my own for them)

For anyone who's concerned, THESE ARE NOT ONESHOT COLLECTIONS, they are made using AO3's "series" feature.

If you want to be informed about new fics for Enola Holmes or its individual characters, create an AO3 account and subscribe or bookmark any of those serieses listed above. There are buttons at the top right corner for those, or on top on mobile. I do not post any of my fics on Tumblr anymore, at least for now. I do not do taglists as AO3 has an inbuilt taglist.

Also, if you're wondering, requests are ALWAYS open and you're welcome to leave one or multiple. Just remember to read my rules and pick a request type from this list.

#enola holmes #enola holmes x reader #enola holmes imagine #tewkesbury x reader #tewkesbury #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes x reader

[rainforest-daisies]

Waltzing in the bathroom

Character: Enola Holmes x fem!reader

Synopsis: you volunteer to teach Enola how to dance, which leads to a very intimate moment between you both.

TW: time period homophobia(so a Iittle angst??), fluff

A/n: HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONEEEEE<33

Your heels clicked on the floor, and her dress swirled around as the girl before you spun herself. She was clueless on how to dance, and you had volunteered to teach her.

It was an unexpected setting, a bathroom of all places. But nonetheless, it felt intimate, being in such a comforting state with her. Her dress was captivating, with lace, silk, ribbon, she must’ve come from money. And her cheeks were painted with a rose tint, any darker and you would believe she was blushing at you.

But that couldn’t be true.

Many instances, you had been mouthed off for the way you existed. It made you believe there was no-one out there like you.

You had been called a disappointment by family, told you would be punished by the lord, emotionally pulverized from the simple fact, you liked women too.

It was such a sin to see a woman the same way a man saw one, at least to everyone you knew.

This was your closest opportunity to having a fairytale ending. Maybe she could be the one, but your thoughts had shut that down almost immediately. Of course, she must be just like the others. You could only imagine what it would be like with someone else, spending eternity with her, making your own names for yourselves. never being accepted enough to truthfully spill that secret to another, kept you from doing so.

“Right. Well, I believe I know the basics.” She pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes. Her pupils seemed to be a bit dilated, the tint on her cheeks seemed to be darker.

Your hand still resting on her waist, and faces closer than before.

The glimmer she had in her eye was mesmerizing, she couldn’t seem to pull herself from your grasp, it was like you were both frozen in time. She liked being held like this, a way no man could hold a lady.

It was cliché, but you both could felt sparks.

You had read plenty of literature, always describing moments like these with a tingle in your midriff, a feeling of adrenaline course through your body, a weakening of the knees, but you had never truly felt it until being held In her arms. You would normally feel shame, a feeling of disappointment in yourself, but you leaned in.

She didn’t move away.

Now it truly felt like a piece of literature. The kinds you would find in the back of the library, with very many creases in the backing, and slight stains on the pages. The markings that showed it had been loved by so many people.

A loud knocking on the door pulled you both away, quickly moving from each other’s arms in the fear of someone barging in. The cold air had hit your clammy hands as you did so, making goosebumps appear on your forearm.

As you made your way to the door, you held up your fan, and motioned it across your face.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She said, looking rather offended as if you had said something insulting.

“It means I love you.” You opened the door, and made your way out before she could respond. You could feel your heart racing, you just said ‘I love you’ to her.

“I love you too…” she whispered.

#enola holmes x reader #enola holmes #enola holmes 2 #viscount tewksbury x reader #tewksbury x reader #enola holmes imagine #Enola Holmes x you #writers #fluff #x reader #Netflix

[imaginemalereader]

Hi! Could I please request an enola Holmes headcannons for enloa helping her brother with his depression, please?

Headcanons: Enola helping you, her brother, with depression

Of your siblings, Enola is by far the best at supporting you. Sherlock’s not terrible some of the time, but Mycroft is just plain awful at it

If you have the energy, she’ll get you to practice jiujitsu with her. You would never have guessed having your sister flip you onto a mat would make you feel better, but sometimes that was just the reset you needed to knock you out of your funk

You never just let her win though so sometimes you won which also felt good

Sometimes though, she’s really good for just talking

If you need to talk, she’ll listen to you (actually listen) and sit with you while you verbally process everything

If you ask for advice, she’ll give it. She doesn’t always give very good advice, but it’s nice that she tries and sometimes her “advice” is actually pretty funny

Other times, you just need to be with someone else and hear them talking and if there’s one thing Enola’s good at, it’s talking your ear off. She’ll talk about flowers, about cases, about Tewkesbury, about your siblings or your mother. It doesn’t really matter to you but it helps pull you out of your head

She’ll take you on strolls on the streets of London or in the park. These might be your favorite since you get to see the world and get reminded that it’s all so much bigger and richer than you sometimes can remember. 

She makes a regular check in with you to make sure you’re taking care of yourself

Usually you two go out to eat since you both know she should not be allowed in the kitchen

Sometimes she’ll invite Sherlock along, for any number of reasons

Either you need your brother’s pragmatism or she knows that he needs more socializing

No matter what, it’s fun to be with both your siblings, especially this version of Sherlock that has really come out since Enola came back into his life

Your family has never been very touchy feely, but damn if Enola doesn’t give good hugs when you need them

Enola knows you pretty well it seems. She can tell if you need mental stimulation like helping her with a case or the emotional support your brothers tend to lack for as well

You credit her a lot with helping you out of your bad days and making sure you remember there are good things in the world and people who care about you

#enola holmes headcanons #enola holmes imagine #x brother reader #x brother!reader #brother!reader #enola holmes x brother!reader #enola holmes x brother reader #familial #x sibling reader #x male!reader #male!reader #x male reader

[6rookie-writer0110]

Endless River

Male Reader x Enola Holmes

Request - Can you do Male Reader x, Enola Holmes. Just anything.

1884

Enola is trying to find clues for her first case. Enola's last clue leads her to the pub and she tries to get inside.

“You can't come inside,” You said.

“And who are you? You can't tell me what to do” Enola said.

“Because you are a girl,” You said.

“That is dumb and you're not the owner of the pub,” Enola said.

“How do you know that?” You asked.

“Because of how you're dressed. Your clothes look very old” Enola said

“Look, I don't want the men in here to bother you, so leave,” You said.

“I can defend myself and I'm on a case. I'm a detective” Enola said

“Like Sherlock Holmes?” You asked.

“Yes, just like him. I have my own agency” Enola said.

You are speechless that you didn't know what to ask. But Enola didn't say that Sherlock is her older brother.

“I’m trying to look for someone and he is missing for a month now. I just need to ask questions” Enola said.

“Who is missing?” You asked.

“His name is Jack and people saw him here at this pub. Did you see him?” Enola said.

“Yeah, I saw him. He owes me money, and because of him I lost the fight” You said.

“What, fight?” Enola asked.

“To earn extra money I fight in a secret underground where people can bet,” You said.

“Did you kill him?” Enola asked.

“No! I didn't kill him. Yeah, I want to beat him up but I didn't. The last time I saw him talk to the guy who is in charge of setting up the fights then I went home” You said.

“Take me to this so-called underground for fights,” Enola said.

“No,” You said.

You start to walk away and Enola starts to follow you. She is trying to convince you to take her to the underground fights.

“They won't let you inside because women are not allowed,” You said.

“You don't seem bothered that I am a detective,” Enola said.

“I always wanted to be a detective, but I can't read or write,” You said.

“Don’t you go to school or finished?” Enola asked.

“I didn't finish. People made fun of me, so why bother” You said.

“Oh... What if, I teach you how to read and write and you can be a detective at my workplace but only if you take me to the underground fight” Enola said.

“Really?” You asked.

“Yes, I mean it and I won't go back on my words,” Enola said.

You start to think...

“You can call me detective Y/n” You smiled.

“I will just call you, Y/n” Enola said.

You and Enola leave together and you tell her about the fights.

“I guess, we will go undercover,” Enola said.

“But you can't go wearing a dress. Wow, I'm going undercover” You said.

Enola starts to think and she got an idea.

“Lend me your clothes and you tell them, I want to bet on the fights. But don't call me Enola” Enola said.

“I think it might fit you. But what should I call you?” You said.

“Call me Tommy,” Enola said.

She followed you to your place. You live in a bad area and the landlord told you to pay the rent or else. You are short on cash and the landlord will want the money by tomorrow. The are many people living in a small house and you share your room with a stranger.

“You live alone?” Enola asked.

“No. I share the room with an Irish man named Colin,” You said.

You give her your clothes to put on.

“Thank you,” Enola said.

“The bathroom is over there and I will wait here for you,” You said

She went into the bathroom and you sit on your bed. A few minutes later she comes out...

“You almost look like a real boy,” You said.

“Now we go,” Enola said

“Try to change your voice a little deeper,” You said.

“Good idea,” Enola said.

You take Enola to the underground fight. They believed that Enola is a guy and you tell who Jack spoke to. Then you and Enola watched a fight together and one of the fighters was the one last to speak with Jack.

“He has a temper and thinks he is better than everyone. And his name is Jason” You said.

Enola watched you bet on the fight. After the fight, you and Enola went to see Jason.

“This is Tommy and we want to know where is Jack,” You said.

“Why should I care?” Jason asked.

“His family is looking for him,” Enola said.

“I don't care. Leave or I will make you” Jason said.

“You don't have to be a cunt” You said.

“Where is Jack?” Enola asked.

Jason pushed you and you were going to hit him but Enola punched him in the nose.

“That hurts,” Enola said.

“We better run now,” You said.

You and Enola start to run fast.

“Wow, the way you punched him was great!” You smiled.

“Well, that was a waste of time and he was a prick,” Enola said.

“I told you. Now what?” You said.

“I will show you what I have about Jack” Enola said.

“Okay,” You said.

You go with Enola to her place, she is showing you what she knows so far. Enola promised you that she will teach you how to write and read.

-----

Enola has been teaching you how to read.

“This is hard,” You said.

“Y/n, you have to keep trying. To be a good detective, you need to learn how to read and write. Now, Y/n start again and take your time” Enola said.

“It means a lot that you're teaching me. No one would teach me how to read and write because they think it's a waste of time” You said

“Y/n, I don't think it's a waste of time. I'm happy to teach you” Enola said.

“Thank you,” You said.

You and Enola smiled at each other.

✬ ✫ ✯ ✬

It's nighttime, all day you and Enola have been trying to find new clues. While walking home, you and Enola saw a drunk guy get kicked out of the pub.

“Sherlock?” Enola said.

“You know him?” You asked.

“Enola?” Sherlock asked.

“You smell bad,” You said.

“Who are you? Enola, is he bothering you?” Sherlock said.

“I know him and he is my friend. His name is Y/n. What are you doing in a pub?” Enola said.

“We disagreed on the wine,” Sherlock said.

“That’s dumb,” You said.

“Mhmm,” Sherlock said.

“I can't just leave him here,” Enola said to you.

“Let’s take him to his place,” You said.

“Good idea,” Enola said.

Sherlock told you and Enola, where he is staying. Now Sherlock has his arms around you and Enola.

“Wow, feels like I'm carrying a mountain,” You joked.

“You do know, it is impossible to carry a mountain,” Enola said.

You and Enola do struggle to walk and carry Sherlock.

“It was a joke. I know you can't carry a mountain but you can't lie and say he is hard to carry. Mr, Sherlock I am a huge fan. I want to be a detective but people say I'm dumb” You said.

“Y/n, you are not dumb don't believe them. You are smart in different ways” Enola said.

“Wow, no one called me smart before” You smiled.

“Listen to her” Sherlock mumbled.

Sherlock lies on the couch and she tells him to drink water, but he falls asleep. You have been living with Enola for a while also, you sleep alone, and you're happy about that.

-----

You and Enola did find Jack. He wanted to start a new life without anyone knowing him.

Now, you help her run the agency but it's not easy. A couple walked in and you're sitting at Enola’s desk. You spilled the ink and you start to clean the mess.

“We need to hire you for your service,” The old lady said.

“Oh, I'm not the boss,” You said.

“Then who is in charge? We need to find our cat” the old guy said.

“I am in charge. My name is Enola Holmes” Enola said.

“You? But you are a girl” He said.

“And she is your boss?” She asked you.

“She is in charge and I work for her,” You said.

“Is your brother Sherlock or Mycroft, available?” She asked.

“I don't work with my brothers,” Enola said.

“Enola is smart and she thinks fast. Hire her and she will get the case done... And-” You rambled on.

Enola couldn't help to smile about what you said about her.

“We will go somewhere else,” He said.

They leave and she sighed. You gently pat her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, we will get another case” You said.

“Maybe,” Enola said.

------

You are in the office and Enola starts to write on a paper.

“That’s how you spell your name, Y/n” Enola said.

“Wow. How did you write it like that?” You asked

“I will show you. Each letter makes a different sound, always remember that. And yes some words do sound the same but have different meanings” Enola said.

“That is a lot,” You said.

“I will teach you step by step. Now, let's start with the first” Enola said.

Enola starts to teach you, how to write each letter in your name. She would gently hold your hand to show you the movement of each letter.

#enola holmes imagine #enola holmes x reader #Enola Holmes x male reader #x male reader #male!reader

[espinosaurusrexex]

The Most Beautiful Riddle

HenryCavill!Sherlock x Female!Reader

summary: Sherlock Holmes had never entertained the idea of marriage. That was, until Y/N came along and turned his world upside down. Now, after a year of sweet love and happiness, he is finally ready to ask the question. There is just one problem: How is he ever to make the proposal worthy of his one true love?

a/n: Henry!Sherlock pulls this poetic side out of me, I don’t know. This is me trying to write this period-appropriate, but don’t hesitate to tell me that I’ve failed miserably. This was also a request from this lovely anon - I hope you like it!

word count: 2.9k

warnings: fluff, fluff, and did I mention fluff?

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

If it weren’t for her, he would have surely misplaced his head by now, Sherlock thought as he was on yet another venture to look through his study for those particular cufflinks he adored. Though he was certain, he had placed them right on his desk the other night, they weren’t anywhere to be found. 

“For god’s sake. They can’t have bloody disappeared,” he huffed in the stuffy study when a pile of books tumbled over the edge of the desk. And then, there it was: an envelope wedged between his most recent read and a note that said: ‘in case you forget’. The cufflinks were neatly placed within.

The detective smiled with a shake of his head. The handwriting was unmistakable: the soft swing of the quill made the harshest words sound lovely. There was only one person who could have done this. And this particular person, he was late to meet by five minutes already. He could not leave her waiting, he thought, not in that heat outside. 

Sherlock hurried down the stairs of his house as he placed the delicate silver pieces on his sleeves, a light touch grazing the surface of the sapphire pinched in the metal with remarkable expertise.

“There you are, Sherlock. Whatever took you so long?” Y/N’s bright eyes glimmered under her sunhat but the smirk on her lips told Sherlock that she knew. Of course, she did. She was the woman who had placed the cufflinks in the envelope after all, because she had grown custom to his scattered thoughts whenever he was deep into a case, seemly leaving every other aspect of life pass him by as if he were sitting by a train window. 

“Darling, I am sorry for I have left you waiting. But somebody appeared to have replaced some items in my study.” Y/N straightened his jacket when he reached her, her hands lingering on his shoulders for a moment longer, her eyes staring into his with a playful gleam.

“Now, who would do such a thing? It’s quite improper to go through a gentleman’s belongings like that.” She did poorly in hiding the mischief in her smile when she turned around. Not, however, before Sherlock caught her hand and placed a sweet kiss on her knuckles.

“Indeed. Though I seem to be relying on this someone after all.” It was an honest attempt in telling her something entirely different than the words he had said. And Y/N knew the meaning behind them all. It was their own personal riddle. A beautiful one, that was, and the very thing he adored most about their relationship.

“Well,” her hand squeezed his in a reassuring manner, “it’s good to have people look after one, don’t you think?” Y/N gathered her skirts and entered the carriage waiting before his home. It would take them to the market, where his favorite part of the day was awaiting the man who stood dazed before the horses, a hint of a smile on his lips and the whisper of a thought hanging in the light summer breeze.

“So it seems.”

❁ ❁ ❁

It had become a custom for the pair to visit the market every Wednesday. Though this tradition had not come to life until Sherlock had started to worry excessively for Y/N’s wellbeing after they had confessed their feelings for one another. It had been a hot summer's day then, too. And Sherlock could not help but be surprised when Y/N had kissed him under the old oak tree by the meadow and shared her feelings with him, that he in fact felt them as well. Much like now, he had been deep in thought about an interesting case of his that seemed to have his head everywhere but in the moment. Y/N had managed to pull him back with this sweet and fleeting kiss. And he were to have almost missed it had it not sparked an overwhelming feeling in his chest. A feeling he had felt many times before but were never able to place; and one he still felt whenever she was close. So, it appeared only natural to accompany Y/N to her weekly market visits. 

Sherlock would not admit it to anyone, really, but he found great joy in watching her frolic through the stands, smelling the flowers, conversing with sellers, and making him carry all the items she had acquired throughout the day. He always made sure to buy her a bouquet of the prettiest flowers as well just to see that bright smile shining through. 

It were these moments that reminded the usually rational man that he too was allowed to feel. His mind would scatter like petals on a window sill, showering his head with thoughts and scenarios he seemed to be able to visit only in her presence. Faint whispers suggested how the wind blowing through Y/N’s hair made it look just that much softer, or what it would feel like to have his fingers stroke through her delicate locks again. Sherlock knew what it felt like. He had had the pleasure of pushing his hand through the strands when they would kiss - if they were able to catch a lonely moment amongst the endless sea of banquettes and work events their life shipped them through. But he missed it nonetheless. Her laugh made him think of children running through a lively home and her loving stare whenever she presented another item for him to hold showed him how very easily he could look at her eyes and fall lost in them for hours. 

And yet, he had not found himself able to ever take their remarkable relationship to the next step. The both of them made a noteworthy team in more aspects than one. Y/N had proven herself of great help on many of Sherlock’s cases and the amount of time the pair spent together seemed unconventional for an unmarried couple. Sherlock himself was constantly reminded of that by the critical eyes of his fellows and the uttered remarks of the old women in the city. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He loved her. That he was sure of. And though Eudoria had been scolding him for courting a lady like Y/N for almost a year now, he had yet to ask the question his mother so desperately wanted him to pop. Sherlock had thought about it of course. There was no other woman he could even imagine marrying that was, but he was also aware that a normal proposal would not nearly do her extraordinary personality justice. So it was not that he didn’t want to ask her, it was more like his sister concluded: he was scared to mess up. Though he would never phrase it that way. His sister was a smart young woman and it seemed to prove her intelligence right once more when Sherlock agreed with her on this behalf.

Another item being placed in his arms pulled him back from his thoughts. Apples. Sherlock looked up with intrigue in his eyes, the smile on the woman’s face in front go him just brightening further.

“I will be making pie today. You love apples, do you not, Sherlock?”

Heat rose up his generally unfazed face. Sherlock was not able to prevent it from happening. 

“I do.” 

And for some unexplainable reason, this moment felt different than many as such before. Sherlock could feel his heart swell in his chest, the constant thumbing beneath his ribs aggressive and unrelenting. And it did not falter. Not when he followed her back to the carriage later that afternoon. Not when he guided her back to his house, hand resting on the small of her back and the other securely holding a basket of acquired goods. And not when he watched her prepare an apple pie for him while contently humming an unfamiliar tune that still sounded like the most beautiful melody to his ears. 

As his broad frame was leaning on the door way, his hand secretly pressed to his chest to still the violent pounding before it would kill him, Sherlock's mind began to wander again. Though this time, much to his dismay, it did not stray to case-related endeavors. It was entirely focused on the very woman spinning through his kitchen in the yellow hues of the afternoon sun. He imagined her cooking there every day. At some point, Sherlock was even surprised to hear the faint sound of tiny feet pattering through his hallway as his mind spiraled into a fantasy world he were only able to visit seldom.

To be entirely honest, it was out of the detective's comfort zone to feel as at home around someone as he did with Y/N. Sherlock was not a man to waste his time with wishful thinking. He was a man of action and rational. The feelings that were enlightened by the very woman dancing in his kitchen, however, were far from any of those attributes. Furthermore, they showed him yet again, how unreasonable he had been acting toward her. It was clear to him that something needed to change in order to set his mind at ease again. And the wave of warmth pushing through his body at the look of Y/N with flour on her nose just confirmed his suspicion. 

He stepped forward with careful strides, one hand reaching out towards Y/N and pulling her into his warm and welcoming chest. She must have been able to feel his heart pounding beneath his skin as his decision settled in his mind, he was certain of it. Sherlock placed a ginger kiss on her temple before excusing himself to his study. And when he sat down at his desk, dipping the quill in the dark ink before him, he willed himself to concentrate not to butcher his writing with the way his hands were shaking.

Dear Enola,

I was hoping to receive your help on a personal account of mine...

❁ ❁ ❁

The paper in his pocket was burning holes through the fabric as Sherlock stood above the meadow, where the trees opened to a beautiful view of the sunset. Enola had placed the last hint in the branches of the oak just a couple hundred meters away from him. It was strange for the detective to feel nervous, but this particular endeavor had him experiencing a number of new things. It was the first time, too in which he was not thinking about any case of his. His mind was entirely circled around the moment that stood before him and the plan he had acquired together with his sister. 

Y/N would arrive any second now, and Sherlock found himself lost in the speech he had prepared yet again. It was only regarding her in that he ever felt his hand clammy or his nerves firing with a speed he’d never experienced before. But it was confusing nonetheless because Sherlock was certain that Y/N was by far a thing that he could be sure about. Every time anew she proved to him how secure her love for him was, and he had never wished for anything more than her to stay by his side. 

“I have to confess: the last puzzle took me some time to solve. Though, I really liked the code you used for the letters. That was quite witty.” Y/N appeared behind the tree line, a soft smile painting her features as she approached the brunette waiting with eager curiosity. He laughed when she held out her hand towards him, fixing her hat with the other. “I believe you have something for me?”

His fingers tightened around the parchment in his pocket. She had solved his riddles - all of them - and that within the span of 34 minutes and 16 seconds, he confirmed after glancing at his pocket watch. 

“How very right you are, Sweetheart.” Sherlock held out the paper triumphantly, desperate not to draw attention to his rapidly beating heart, making his wrists pulse vigorously. He had anticipated this moment, of course. But he could not keep the shivers at bay when her delicate fingers unfolded the small note that would reveal what this whole ordeal was for.

Y/N’s eyes flew over the page and it almost seemed as if she took her time doing it in order to make his nervousness spiral. The note was not long. It was simple, too. A riddle Sherlock were able to solve when he was only six years old. He knew very well that Y/n was more than capable of doing the same, but she left him waiting still. It would not be Y/N if she didn’t anyway.

When she finally looked up, her stare was questioning. It did not go unnoticed by the detective, however, that the corners of her mouth twitched into a court smile. 

“Sherlock? Whatever is this about?” 

Sherlock snatched the paper from her fingers to look it over again:

In boxing I am square

On fingers I am round

I’m inside every tree

And too a bell’s sound

It was clear as day: Y/N was making a fool of him.

“I will not believe that this is the riddle you cannot solve, my dear.” The shake of his head spilled a curl into his face, “but since I have left you waiting for so long...” Sherlock got down on one knee and her smile finally broke free.

He reached out for her hand and was surprised to find it shaking as well. She knew what he was about to reveal to her, she just wanted him to say it. And if it weren’t for anything, Sherlock needed to subsequently get this off his chest. His mother had been right: he had left her waiting for far too long. A year too long. Being there was no denying that he had known he needed to marry her the second she had walked into his life with a witty remark and a teasing smile on her lips.

“I am grateful for you have not run from me after all the things I have made you do and wait for. I realize I am a lucky man to have you by my side. As a friend, a partner, and someone I love. You are smart, witty, and beautiful... and I would be the-”

There was an unusual lump building in his throat, blocking his words from escaping. It was a rather strange experience for the man kneeling. He had never known himself to be capable of emotion. And perhaps his body was resisting the horribly cheesy words he needed to say.

“Do not grow sappy on me now, Sherlock. You better finish that sentence right now,” Y/N cried with playful urgency. Though there was a truthfulness in her tone he had just placed into his. He swallowed the lump and took a deep breath in. This was the moment he as well as her had been waiting for.

“Perhaps what I am trying to say is...” Sherlock reached for his pocket once more to reveal a velvet box. Hidden within was a beautiful sapphire on a silver band. Much like the cufflinks she had gotten him because they shone like the color of his eyes, he wished for Y/N to always think of his whenever she looked at it. The ring shone brightly in the orange sun hues, reflecting the warm summer’s evening light and mixing into a beautiful green. It was perfect, just like her. “I love you, Y/N. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Y/N’s head tilted to the side as she eyed the blue stone beneath her. It presented a nearly perfect replica of the cufflinks adorning Sherlock's wrists. He loved them and suited in them every day, and he hoped for Y/N to love her ring just as much. And though he was as certain of her answer as he was of every case he had ever had, the silence coming from the woman in front of him pushed a nervous shiver over his skin.

Her hand reached out to stroke his chin, a loving stare seeping through her irises. “I love you so much.” 

“Please, Y/N.” Impatience rose to his head. Her little games were fun most of the time, though right now, he really wished for an answer that would put his racing thoughts at ease.

“Why of course I will marry you, Sherlock!” Y/N jumped forward as her arms slung around his shoulders, a warm kiss pressing to his lips that pulled a bright smile in its wake.

“Excellent,” Sherlock whispered, too afraid to have his voice fail him once more on this evening. He placed the ring on her finger and Y/N reached up to the sky, catching a rainbow of colors in the delicate stone. 

As they rose from the ground, he pulled her further into his chest, a deep simmer of warmth traveling from his body to hers. His heart was full of contentment when Y/N pressed her face beside his neck, a soft-shivered promise traveling to his ears as he watched the sun set behind the horizon, filling the sky with colors as hot and intense as the love shared between the pair.

Wanna be added to the Taglist?

#megs imagines #sherlock holmes imagine #enola holmes imagine #enola holmes fanfic #enola holmes #sherlock holmes fluff #sherlock imagine #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes fanfic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill au #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #henry sherlock #enola holmes 2 #sherlock x y/n #sherlock holmes x fem!reader #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes #henry cavill sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x you

[ithebookhoarder]

Enola Holmes Masterlist

Enola Holmes x Reader (Y/N):

-

Sherlock Holmes x Reader (Y/N):

The Waiting Game

En Garde

Main Masterlist

#enola holmes #enola holmes imagine #enola 2 #Enola Holmes 2 #Sherlock Holmes #henry sherlock #sherlock x reader #Sherlock Holmes x Reader #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill sherlock holmes #henry cavill x you #masterlist #ithebookhoarder #thesilentmage

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Sherlock Masterlist

One Shots

Nowhere Safe - Sherlock x Reader (BBC)

Trying To Tie A Tie - Sherlock x Reader (BBC)

Bumpy Ride - Sherlock x Reader (BBC)

A ‘Cold’ Case - Sherlock x Reader (BBC)

Declining Sherlock - Sherlock x Reader (BBC)

Telegrams & Teacups - Sherlock x Reader (Enola Holmes)

Enticed. - Sherlock x Reader (Enola Holmes)

Imagines + Mini Fic

Imagine Sherlock barging into your apartment to ask for help on a case (BBC)

Imagine your shock when Sherlock reveals himself (BBC)

Imagine accidentally drinking the spiked Christmas punch at Sherlock’s family home (BBC)

Imagine Sherlock constantly barging into your apartment

Imagine Mycroft trying to make you leave when you arrive to help with Enola (Enola Holmes)

Imagine a battle of words with Mycroft Holmes when you arrive to help (Enola Holmes)

(Return to the Easy Navigate Masterlist)

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandoms masterlist #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #bbc sherlock x reader #sherlock x reader #sherlock masterlist #sherlock imagine #enola homes x reader #enola holmes masterlist #enola holmes imagine #bbc sherlock imagine

[make-me-imagine]

A New Years Kiss

Part One: A Christmas Rose

Plot: After an agonizing wait over the holidays, you finally get to see Sherlock again at the Tewksbury family New Years gathering. Will you find out if the rose was truly meant for you?

Pairing: Cavill!Sherlock Holmes x Gn!Reader

Words: 2.2k

A/n: In Victorian times they did not celebrate New Years as heavily as we do today. The rich families would often be the only ones to hold parties or they had "open houses". So this is based around that a bit. With a little modern New Years kiss theme thrown in.

-

As you stepped down from the carriage, your eyes ran over the Tewksbury's residence. You often forgot just how large it was.

People mingled outside, greeting each other before slowly making their way inside. Your heart beat was heavy as you took a deep breath and made your way towards the house.

Spotting Enola lingering outside, you approached her. As she spotted you, you saw her smile.

"Y/n, thank God, I was afraid I would have to go in alone."

"Isn't Tewksbury greeting you?"

She sighed "No, alas he is busy hosting, he has to greet everyone with his mother."

"Everyone? I do not envy him"

"No do I." She sighed as she looped her arm through yours. "Come, lets go inside."

As you began entering the house, your eyes cast over the crowd. You wondered if Sherlock was here yet. Was he still coming? It had been torture for you having to wait until this party to see him.

You had given in once, a few days prior and went to his apartment. But he was not there. So you had to wait. But you could not help but worry that he might not come tonight. How long would you have to wait to see him then?

What if he did not leave the rose after all, and your anxious waiting meant nothing?

Shushing your own thoughts you looked over at Enola. "Is it true your brother is coming?"

She nodded "Oh yes, apparently he has a very important reason to be here, though he wont tell me what that is exactly. I can't help but think it is about a case he is working on. He is here somewhere." She glanced over at you "He asked if you would be coming as well."

You tried to hide any emotion you might be feeling "Did he?"

You saw something akin to curiosity cross her face, but it quickly faded when she spotted Tewksbury motioning for her to come over to him.

Looking over at you, you nodded "Go ahead. I'll be around."

Smiling, she darted off to go to his side, and you smiled at them. They made a cute couple. Looking around, your heart began beating a bit faster as you wondered where Sherlock was. You wanted to look for him, but feared you might be getting in his way if he was really here working on a case.

Saying hello to a few people you knew, you grabbed a drink and stood at the edge of the room, your eyes casting over the art pieces the family had set out for people to admire.

When some time had passed and you had yet to see Sherlock, you started to doubt he was still here. Maybe something happened and he had to leave.

As people began filing into the large dancing hall, you followed, continuing to stand at the edge of the room.

As Sherlock entered the large room, his eyes found you almost immedietely. You were dressed in an elegant outfit that suited you very well. You looked slightly nervous as you stood among the crowd.

Ever since the day you exchanged gifts, he was tormented with thoughts about how you found the rose. Did you immediately think he left it? Did you return his feelings? Did you even find the rose within the pages?

Walking through the crowd and around the room, his eyes remained on you as he grew closer. A dance would be starting soon, he did not dance often, but with you, he would very gladly do so.

As couple after couple made their way into the middle of the room, including Enola and Tewksbury, you felt an odd sense of jealousy. You were not much of a dancer, but you would like to experience the thrill of dancing closely with someone you had feelings for.

As if on queue, a voice spoke near your left ear, taking you by surprise.

"Would you like to dance?"

Looking over, you saw Sherlock standing close behind you, leaned over to speak softly to you. His hand was placed out for you to take, and a small smile on his face as he met your eyes.

You felt at a loss for words for a moment, but you smiled and nodded "I would love to" You finally muttered out shyly.

His smile grew slightly as he took your hand in his and lead you to the dance floor.

You were not unaware of the mutters that followed as people saw Sherlock Holmes leading a mostly unknown person out onto the dance floor. But you didn't care about their opinions, much.

Your heart was fluttering, and your chest was tight as Sherlock pulled you closer to him to prepare for the dance. Your eyes met and he still held the familiar soft smile on his face.

As the music began, you quickly fell into rhythm with everyone else on the dance floor. There was a silent moment between you, before Sherlock spoke.

"I was glad to see you were able to make it."

"Oh yes, wouldn't miss it." There was a hint of sarcasm in your voice that made his lip quirk. "I was still a bit surprise you came yourself. Enola said you were here for something important. A case perhaps?"

His smile changed almost to a soft smirk and you felt small jolt from your heart.

"The reason I came is important, but it does not have anything to do with a case"

The way his eyes studied you made you think he meant you were the reason. But you feared you may be hoping for too much.

"And what reason is that, may I ask?" Your voice was soft.

Sherlock could tell what you were hinting at, and this was enough to tell him what he wanted to know.

Spinning you around to the music, he pulled you close to him again your back against his chest, as his voice spoke softly in your ear.

"I wanted to know what you thought of my gift."

You felt a shiver roll through you as his lips just brushed your ear. Twirling you back around to face him again, your came chest to chest, your face hovering just in front of one another before you stepped back and continued with the dance.

"The book? Or the other gift within it?" You didn't say explicitly what it was, but your word were obvious enough.

He smiled at your choice of words "Both." He said simply.

"I adore the book, and I've already read it front to back twice." His eyebrow quirked and you smiled. "And the other-"

Pulling you close to him against, his face hovered close to yours as you moved around the room in dance. You were sure there were eyes on you, but you didn't care.

"I loved." Your voice came out softly.

"Loved?" He repeated, his own voice soft.

"Such a beautiful color. And the meaning-" You seemed to be losing your train of thought as his face remained so close to yours.

"Is returned, I hope?" He finished, just as the music ended.

You stopped as everyone else did, but remained locked on each other before you pulled your eyes away to clap for the musicians. Sherlock did the same, his own chest tight as he looked back at you.

He was unable to say more before a group of men started to make their way over to him, already speaking loudly, asking questions and trying to gain his attention.

He saw you step away, somewhat alarmed by the interruption. Gently grabbing your elbow he leaned in to whisper in your ear. "Meet me on the balcony at Midnight."

Stepping away again, he was almost swallowed by the group of strangers, most of whom you assumed were reporters or politicians.

Making your way away from the crowd, you looked back, only able to see glimpses of his face. You felt pity for him, knowing he hated this kind of attention. And you felt anger, for being interrupted at such an important and intense moment. Looking at the clock nearby, you noted it was nearly forty minutes to twelve.

You sighed as you looked back to here Sherlock had once been. You assumed he had been dragged off by the group of people. You dd not envy him, but you wished you had someway to help him.

"You and my brother seemed to be deep in conversation during that dance."

You jumped slightly at Enola's voice. Turning, you saw her standing beside you, having not even heard her approach.

You cleared your throat lighlty "Yes."

"Did he tell you about the case?" She asked with obvious curiosity in her tone.

You shook your head "He is not here for a case." Your heart jumped slightly. Should you tell her more? What would she think?

Her smile widened as she moved a little closer "Well that confirms the other thing I had a feeling about then."

"Feeling about what?"

"That he was here to see you."

Your eyes glanced to his last location before you looked back at Enola. "Why would you think that?"

She rolled her eyes slightly "Because ever since I introduced you, he always asks about you, wants your opinions, and his eyes follow you everywhere, every time you are around, it's obvious he has feelings for you. "

You felt heart rise up your neck and ears.

"Sorry was that too much?" She asked as she noted your change in demeanor.

You smiled and shook your head "No, I just...didn't know it was obvious."

She smiled "Well your feelings for him were obvious too. But, surprisingly I don't think they were obvious to him."

Deciding to tell her vaguely about what happened between you and Sherlock, she kept you company asking questions and going on long rants about how cases might work after you and Sherlock got involved. You simply listened, too overwhelmed by her ideas and thoughts to say anything.

After some time she tapped you aggressively on the shoulder and pointed at the clock.

"It's nearly midnight."

"Oh!" You said with a jolt "I should go."

She nodded her head hurriedly as she ushered you away, watching as you made your way towards the balcony.

Stepping out onto the balcony, you looked around for Sherlock. Seeing he had not come out yet, you let out a soft breath and wandered over to the balcony's edge. You looked out at the property, seeing groups of people scattered around. The night was brisk, and the stars were bright in the sky.

"Y/n." Your voice was spoken from behind you, causing you to turn around.

Sherlock stepped out and smiled at you, closing the doors behind him. "I hope I did not keep you waiting."

You shook your head "I've only been here a few moments. "

As he approached you, you felt jjttery and nervous.

"I'm sorry all those people bombarded you, I'm sure you did not wish to deal with that tonight."

He smiled "No, I did not. But it was not as bad as it could have been. Though I very much would have preferred being able to spend the time with you."

You smiled as you looked down towards your feet. He smiled at your familiar bashfulness. Stepping forward, he reached into his jacket and pulled something out

"I got this for you."

Looking up, you half-expected to see another purple rose. But instead, he was holding a beautidul dark red carnatin flower.

As your eyes lit up at the sight, Sherlock felt a jolt in his chest. You gingerly took the flower from him and met his eyes.

"You read the book front to back, yes?" You nodded softly and he smiled "What does it mean?"

You looked down at the flower again as you tried to recall the section on carnations.

"White carnations symbolize purity and luck, pink are for gratitude, light red for admiration, and dark red for love and affection."

He nodded softly and took a step closer to you. Reaching out, he gently touched the petals.

"Love, affection, dedication, and passion. Red carnations in general express that-" he paused as his eyes locked onto yours "-my heart aches for you."

You felt a shiver roll through you and your breath seemed to catch in your throat as he stared deeply into your eyes. Slowly, his hand rose and cupped your face, his fingers gently caressed you as he moved closer.

His face hovered just in front of yours as his eyes drifted down to your lips. There was thick tension in the silence between you, that was abruptly interrupted as fireworks shot into the sky from the yard below.

You let out a soft gasp as you and Sherlock looked over to see the bright explosions in the sky. Letting out a soft laugh, you looked back at Sherlock who had an amused smile on his face.

His fingers gently held your chin as he pulled you closer "Happy New Year Y/n"

"Happy New Year Sherlock."

His lips met yours softly as his hand slowly trailed from your chin to rest at your neck as he deepened the kiss. His hand then slowly moved to cup the back of your head as he pulled you closer. His other hand rested at your back, as he held you close to him.

As one of your hands held the carnation, the other reached up and wrapped around his neck as you leaned in and relished the kiss.

xx End xx

I'm really bad at ending fics lol, but I hope you liked it!~

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Sherlock Taglist: @will-grammer, @multifandomfix-recs, @readingbookelf

#Sherlock Holmes #Cavill!Sherlock Holmes #Enola Holmes #Cavill!Sherlock Holmes x Reader #Sherlock Holmes x reader #enola holmes imagine #enola!sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes/reader #sherlock holmes x gn!reader #part two #a new years kiss #henry cavill fic #enola holmes oneshot #enola holmes one shot