#enola holmes oneshot

[heliads]

Tewkesbury x Gn reader, them being both love sick idiots

masterlist

Tewkesbury is meant to be paying attention, but he’s not. Again. Enola’s been trying to brief him on all the latest scatterbrained clues she’s somehow twisting together into one intricate braid of a plan, but it all just sounds like fragments of nothing to him. When Tewkesbury has no idea what’s going on, he zones out. It’s not his fault.

In his defense, there is a lot happening in his life at the moment. If his position in the House of Lords didn’t bring him enough trouble already, because Parliament is an active traincar hurtling towards a new wreck every week, Enola’s gotten them both wound up in yet another murder case. At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if she’s causing these things just to give them a bit of entertainment. It seems likely at least half the time.

There’s something else on his mind, too, if Tewkesbury is in the habit of being honest. Someone, technically. There’s someone who’s come into his life, someone new, someone extraordinary, and the thoughts of where they were and what they were doing recently are far more pleasant thoughts than Enola’s discovery of two bodies with their throats slit.

Someone claps their hands right in front of his eyes and Tewkesbury flinches back, startled. He squints irritably at Enola, who glares right back at him. “What was that for?”

Enola’s scowl has been perfected over practice. “You’re not focusing. I’ve been talking about only the weather for the last three minutes and you never even noticed the abrupt change of subject.”

Tewkesbury frowns. “That would explain why I was suddenly thinking about storm clouds. It is supposed to rain later tonight, though. Excellent observation.”

Enola just huffs, vexed. “I had made several other excellent observations if you were in the habit of listening to me, which you’re not, obviously. So what’s up with you, then?”

He blinks at her in surprise. “What, sorry?”

Enola waves a hand at him in consternation. “You’re pretty clearly preoccupied with something else. What in the world could possibly be more important than another murder case? Has Parliament passed another bloody terrible law, then?”

Tewkesbury shakes his head. “No, not that. Well, yes, they’re always making awful compromises, but that wasn’t what I was thinking of.”

“Then what was it, then?” Enola asks. “Spit it out so we can get back to business. Otherwise you’re just going to go back to thinking about it again.”

“Wise thinking,” Tewkesbury admits. “Very well, then. I was thinking about someone I like.”

He can’t help but smile as he says it at the thought of this particular person. He waits for Enola to do something Enola-like such as swat him on the shoulder or complain to the heavens about why she was burdened with such an easily distracted partner in solving crime, but neither reaction occurs. Instead, she just shrugs and says she figured as much.

It’s funny, he can still remember a time in which Enola would vigorously tease him for so much as mentioning a conversation between himself and someone he was thinking of courting, but no more, it seems. She’s grown up. He has too. They’ve had no choice in the matter, not after what they’ve been through. Time comes for everyone, you either survive or find yourself buried alive in the past. Tewkesbury has been doing his best to continue outrunning the boy he had been, and it appears that Enola has been sprinting just as hard as him.

Regardless, he’s pleased by it. Tewkesbury recently bruised his shoulder and he doesn’t think he’d appreciate a swat aimed in its general direction any time soon. 

“So?” Enola prods. “Who’s the mysterious person? I want details. Do I have competition in the solving of crimes? Because if so, you’ll have to let them know that they have to find someone else. I’m not interested in you for a courtship, of course, but I’ve already gone to the trouble of telling you all my clues, I don’t want to have to train anyone else in the matter.”

Tewkesbury snorts. “You’ll have no worries on that front. No, I’m not solving mysteries with this person, and yes, I am courting them. You’re safe on both counts.”

Enola’s brow furrows. “If you’re not solving crimes, why are you possibly interested in them?”

He just barely manages to turn his laugh into a polite cough. “Not all of us are quite so tempted in stabbings and lacerations, Enola. She’s a perfectly lovely person, we get along splendidly. They listen to me talk about plants and I love walking about the town with them.”

She narrows her gaze at him. “You haven’t mentioned a single name thus far. Who is this mysterious interest of yours?”

This time he does snort in disbelief. “You’ve got to be out of your mind if you think I’m telling you any identifying information. You’d stalk them or something.”

“It would only be for your own good,” Enola frowns, “Shame, though. I was sort of thinking about setting you up with one of my friends. They’re tough as nails and very clever in the whole investigation business, I would have thought you’d like them. Perhaps they were too good for you, though, since you won’t take any of this as seriously as you should.”

Tewkesbury rolls his eyes. “I’m sure. Okay, you’ve wrung me of information. Go on with your clues, I’m paying attention this time.”

“Are you sure?” She asks, suspicious.

“Of course I’m sure,” he tells her. He’s not. Mere moments after Enola turns back to her tracings of plaques and hastily scribbled down house addresses, Tewkesbury is thinking fondly of the time they’d walked through the gardens east of this place. There had been the most beautiful medicinal herbs, and absolutely no murders. Truly a wonderful experience.

It would have been a better use of Tewkesbury’s time to have focused, though, because as Enola is reviewing her information, she gasps with a sudden realization and then they have to take off through the streets in search of a key eyewitness they had previously overlooked. That eyewitness turned out to have been behind it all, and then Tewkesbury blinked and found himself being held at gunpoint. How joyous.

The guy’s damn near crazy, leading to Tewkesbury to wonder again why on earth he keeps finding himself mixed up in all of this. He and Enola are both trying to reason with the guy, goading him into dropping his guard at least just a little bit so Enola can get the jump on him, but every time their attacker’s hand dips a millimeter, he raises it just as quickly.

There’s no getting out of this, or so it seems, at least. Every minute, the guy seems more and more inclined to shoot them both and get rid of any evidence that he’d been involved in all this. Out of the corner of his eye, Tewkesbury catches a flash of motion, but it’s probably just wishful thinking. The two of them had set off in quite a rush for the eyewitness’ location in the hopes of hearing useful clues before the police or other investigators could catch up to them, which unfortunately means that no one will be coming to save them.

Or, perhaps that might not be the case after all. The flicker of movement comes again, this time not from Tewkesbury’s side but in front of him. A silhouette emerges from the gloom behind their attacker. Tewkesbury does his best to keep his gaze firmly trained on the guy waving a gun at him, which isn’t too difficult to do, just to make sure the murderer doesn’t catch onto their rescuer before any saving of lives can occur.

The blink of an eye; the shine of dim lighting on wood, and then their would-be killer is out like a light, limbs sprawling on the ground. The gun doesn’t go off, thankfully, and Tewkesbury kicks it under a nearby table and out of harm's way as soon as he can.

While he’s handling the weapon, he hears Enola’s voice rise with delight. “And here I thought we were the only ones in this case! Y/N, you’re the best.”

“Just like always, huh?” Their rescuer says, and then Tewkesbury’s whipping around, unable to hide the thrilled grin on his face.

“Y/N?” He asks, confused but wonderfully happy.

They’re grinning at him too, even more so when Tewkesbury rushes forward to wrap his arms around them, spinning them off of the ground in one excited loop. It’s not too proper of him, of course, but there is no one to see them here but Enola, and he really, really, likes seeing Y/N, especially when they’re saving him from death by bullet.

Enola is still definitely here, though, and she’s staring between Tewkesbury and Y/N as if she’s lost her mind. “I’m sorry, when did the two of you ever know each other? Least of all well enough to do all of that?”

Tewkesbury laughs. “I believe I forgot to do introductions. Enola, this is Y/N, the person I was speaking of earlier.”

Enola’s jaw drops. “You’re courting Y/N L/N? No. No, they would have told me. Y/N, why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N just grins. “You’re the master detective, I assumed I wouldn’t have to tell you.”

Something is dawning on Tewkesbury, and he looks between Y/N and Enola with mounting levels of shock. “Wait, Enola, when you said you were sad to hear I was courting someone because you wanted to set me up with your friend, did you mean Y/N?”

“Yes,” Enola confirms, “I didn’t realize you were actually seeing them, though.”

He nods. “Do you take back what you said about them being too good for me, then?”

“No,” Enola says cheerfully.

Y/N grins. “I’m just glad to hear I’m highly thought of.”

Enola harrumphs. “Tewkesbury’s also highly thought of, apparently. Y/N can’t stop talking to me about this fantastic boy they’ve been seeing, how he’s just wonderful and courteous and brilliant and whatnot. They wouldn’t tell me a name either.”

Tewkesbury looks at Y/N with a grin, who’s conspicuously not meeting his eyes. “You said all those nice things about me to Enola? Really?”

“No need to bring it up again,” they whisper, but he couldn’t care less.

“I think we should bring it up more often, actually,” he tells them, “again and again. I’ll tell you all the wonderful things I told Enola about you. It’ll be a deal.”

Y/N is smiling at him again, blinding and beautiful, and it’s more than enough to convince Tewkesbury to ignore Enola in the back talking about how she’d rather get shot by the murderer than listen to the two of them keep up this nonsense any longer.

The comment does serve to remind Tewkesbury of their purpose here, though. There’s no reason to stick around any longer, and Enola heads out quickly to alert the police of the murderer trying to kill them. That leaves Tewkesbury and Y/N to leave the building by themselves.

Tewkesbury sticks his head out the door with a grimace. “It’s raining,” he tells them.

Y/N frowns. “Drat. I’d worry about my clothes, but I smudged them already trying to grab something heavy to beat that guy with.”

“And you did a marvelous job with the beating,” Tewkesbury promises them. “Completely worth the cost of the clothes.”

He steps out into the rain and extends a hand to them. Y/N accepts it with a smile, allowing him to pull them into a spin before coming to him again. They’ve danced with each other before at various functions and galas, but this time is more fun, more free. 

The rain drums on the rooftops, providing them with all the melody they’ll ever need. Tewkesbury listens to the patter of their feet on the road, the laughter echoing between the two of them. He watches Y/N’s arms raise as they spin, how their hand fits perfectly in his every time. He looks, and he smiles, and he thinks that he would be absolutely content with this being forever. He never wants to leave this moment, and for now, at least, he never will. The rain beats on, and the two of them dance.

enola holmes tag list: @mayfieldss

[padfootdaredmetoo]

I come with requests (pls). You can decide if it has smut or not but-

SHERLOCK (ENOLA HOLMES VERSION) IS TALKING TO IRENE AND Y/N IS JEALOUS CUZ HE SEEMS TO FLIRT WITH HER N STUFF.

Again, you can decide if there's smut or anything but I NEED this fic.

It would be greatly appreciated as I need another reason to listen to Reputation.

Hey Anon,

Again I'm incredibly sorry you had to wait so long. Hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: Smutt, dom / sub vibes, arguing

The whole situation was wrong. You stood in the doorway of Sherlock’s apartment, the apartment you recently had to move into. The woman seemed to enjoy your startled expression, her eyes were dark and there was a smirk ghosting on her red lips. 

“This is-” Sherlock started his eyes fixed on the woman, to your relief he had kept his distance. He was leaning against the fireplace mantel. 

“Oh, I know who she is.” Her eyes narrowed, and her body was sprawled across the couch. “I’m Irene, an old friend of Sherlock’s,” She said moving her gaze back to him. 

You wanted to throttle her, wishing that women’s issues could be settled like men. Instead, you smiled brightly. 

“If I knew we were having guests I would have put something together. I’ll put the kettle on.” You moved into the kitchen. 

“No need darling. I'm not here for tea.” She uncrossed her legs and sat upright. “I came here for business.” 

Then it started. You stayed on the edge of the room as the two started to banter. Crime scenes, clues, motives, both trying to get the upper hand. You struggled to keep up as they argued, one thing was glaringly obvious. The tension in the room was palpable. You felt the electricity and it made you sick to your stomach. 

They were an inch away from each other, Sherlock looking unimpressed and cold, while she looked like she was savoring every moment of the interaction. 

“Maybe you should look a little closer, somewhere in the woods maybe?” 

“Moriarty-” 

“Sends his regards.” She whispered her eyes focused on his lips. Part of you felt like you should intervene, and the other part of you felt like slinking away. This was so embarrassing, he seemed to forget about your existence altogether. Part of you knew it was because he wanted the missing information from the case he was working on, but the rest of you couldn't feel that logic. 

You were swallowed up by his lack of concern for you. He looked and acted as if he was single, he was doing exactly what she wanted him to do. 

She turned on her heel and left, slamming the door behind her causing you to jump. Your stomach and chest were tight, but you would rather be shot than let him see that he had hurt you. 

You moved to the bedroom and shut the door, locking it even though you knew he would probably be sitting there sorting through her riddles. 

You grabbed a bag stuffing it with clothes, anger seeping out of you. It was going to be a huge mess if you went to your sister's place like this but you didn’t care. Any place was better than here. 

You opened the bedroom door and to no surprise, he was sitting there staring out the window. Muttering under his breath. He never liked being interrupted when he was like this. So you walked across the living space towards the front door. 

“Where are you going?” He asked exhaling smoke from his pipe. 

“Doesn't matter.” You shrugged. 

“Of course, it matters.” He stood up fully attentive now. 

“No -” 

“She just gave us the missing clue, Morarity is--” 

“Is a fucking ponce. I don't have time for this Sherlock. I can't do this,” You slipped a little then took a deep breath making your way closer to the door. 

His large frame blocked you and you were surprised that he was making such an effort to keep you there. He looked like he was struggling to explain something. 

“You're angry. I don't understand why.” This made your blood boil.  “But Moriarty wants you.” 

“I’m glad someone does.” You bit back. His face was stern and you knew he wasn't going to let you leave and a part of you was happy to argue.  

“You don’t think I want you.” His voice was just above a snarl, and his eyes were dark. His anger had the opposite effect on your body, your pulse raced and you suddenly felt a few degrees too hot. His glare was consuming and you hated him for how attractive it was. 

“Obviously not. She was all over you, and you - you - you - just let her. Right in front of me - you didnt even -” He leaned his face closer to yours and your words cut off.

“She wants you to run out of here angry. There’s a delivery carriage just up the street that hasn't moved since she got here.”Sherlock whispered. “She’s already left, thinking you’d run out of here. We have the upper hand.” 

You thought about what he was saying, there was plenty of logic. The way her eyes would land on you periodically despite flirting with Sherlock. She was obvious too obvious about it. You still felt like fighting. 

“I don’t like this.” You gritted your teeth. Many converstations had recently been had over the many ups and downs of the life he lead. How you were attched to him publicly now due to a careless misstep. Now you understood his reluctance all these months. 

Moving in with him was the safest option. You didnt realise how angry all of that made you, how your private life was boiled down and sold as broth for everyone to consume. Somthing so dear to you, you knew deep down you wouldnt want to live without him. You closed your eyes, you wanted him. But the world needed him. All those murdered women, cases left unsolved completley neglected until he would show up. 

He was doing what was right. A thought that comforted the anger you felt at the loss of control. 

“Then let me make it up to you.” He said through gritted teeth. A voice in the back of your mind told you to run away from the darkness in his eyes. Your body stood frozen in place, welcoming his rage. 

He closed the space between the two of you and gripped your jaw tightly. You looked up at him with wide eyes, he was so angry. His mouth crashed into yours and you felt yourself slip away into blissful submission. 

This wasn't normal for you. When you wanted to fight you let him have it. You would shout at him and was always secretly grateful that he could take it. He never tried to take advantage, letting you express your emotions freely. Normally without consequence. But his hands were warm and gripping at your flesh madly.

You felt like you should make an effort to push back, try to take some control back. But your body had a mind of its own. You wanted him to make it up to you, and for once you didn’t want to be the one thinking and doing.  

You let him ravish you, pulling apart the front of your dress. His mouth biting the flesh along your breastbone. He pushed you against the living room wall, and a crashing sound was noted in your periphery but you didnt have the brain power to care. He used his knee to press his way between your legs. His hand ran up the inside of your thigh bringing your skirts up higher. 

His mouth tenderly sucked in a nipple causing you to knot your fingers in his hair. A groan escaped your lips, your eyes fluttered closed and the last of your thoughts faded away. 

Your mind was singularly focused on receiving his touch. He placed one last sharp bite against the base of your neck before picking you up. He kissed you messily as he carried you back to the bedroom. Kocking over piles of books and experiments. The place would be a disaster after but you didnt care. His large body somehow managed to safely navigate the chaos before reaching the bedroom. He threw you down on the bed and quickly discarded your dress. His body was on yours in the span of a breath, he wasn't going to risk letting you sober up and snap back to reality. 

A faint warning sounded that there were still men waiting outside the house… That thing could be dangerous. The thought only made you wetter. 

Your mind went blank as you felt his mouth on your clit. No warm-up, no warning. Your legs snapped shut and you let out a scream. Your hips bucked and he placed a hard slap to the side of your thigh. 

You were getting close, your voice was loud. He moved away and you tried to push his face back down. He resisted you easily. With a fluid motion, he had moved his whole length inside you. The stretch was almost enough to make you orgasm. 

“Not yet.” He snarled, thrusting inside you wildly. His large hand cradled your neck with a delicious grip, his teeth sinking into the flesh under your collarbone once more.  

The pain and pleasure was too much for you. Your hips met his every thrust desperate for his command. Your throat was sore from crying out. 

His thrusts became harder and deeper, stealing the air from your lungs. Your whole body was tensing up.

“Cum” he growled into your ear and your body contracted and seized. The pressure was unbearable, he forced his way in and out of your tight cunt, finding his own release. 

After an eternity your body finally collapsed into nothingness. The most soothing nothingness. 

Sherlock collapsed onto the bed next to you. Pulling you against his naked body tightly. You let him move your limp body, still not able to grasp the world. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into your hair. His voice was thick with grief, and you shuddered against the sudden cold that moved against your skin. “I will send you to Frace, there is a monastery there -” 

“Stange thing to do to a woman before banishing her to live with nuns” You mumbled rubbing your cheek against the hair on his chest. 

“I can keep you safe.” He sighed heavily. 

“Perfectly safe here. He’ll find me if you send me away, better to stay next to you. Handle this like every other case.” You were very proud of the contributions you made to the cases you had helped with.

___________

The man shifted looking down at his watch once again. The lady never left the apartment. He felt antsy, Moriarty made it very clear how he deals with disobedience, the last thing he wanted was to end up another case file on Sherlock’s desk. 

He didnt really want this job. He looked at the apartment window through his side-view mirror. Guilt hit him at the thought of kidnapping a woman. His brother had made it very clear that this was the only way to pay off his debts. The thought of his nephew and sister-in-law, made him stay in his seat. 

Stupid family. 

After a long while he got down from the carriage. He ran up the stairs and was hit with the sounds of crashing and screaming without his better judgment opened the apartment door.  221B, just like in the papers. 

To his astonishment, the place was trashed. Books, instruments, broken glass, and various liquids thrown across the hardwood. The sound of the woman’s screams made his stomach drop. Sounds like maybe someone else was hired, in case she went the other way or something. With a heavy sense of guilt, the man turned and shut the door behind him. He ran down the street leaving the carriage there. Maybe whoever else was on the mission would go back for it.

Thinking one last bitter thought about his family, he got on the next train out of London. He sat on the train and said a prayer for the poor woman, pledging never to get involved with such things again.

[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

[swanimagines]

Hi! If requests are open, can I request an imagine where Enola has a sibling (or sister) that is constantly trying to prove to Enola their worth, but gets hurt in a case and worries her instead and she helps with their self worth?

A/N: A small note in case anyone is wondering: in my newer sibling fics, reader is always adopted so this would fit everyone who wants to read this :)

It’s just a small mystery that won’t be that serious, you thought as you stepped through the rusty gates. The seamstress is most likely fine, this is just a small misunderstanding. Enola is too busy to try to solve these things that are obvious cases, that’s why she threw this letter away.

You had secretly watched Enola from the stairway, who had been going through her mail. She had been looking through one of the letters and then just throwing it away. It wasn’t like her, but you figured it’s something too easy she wouldn’t get paid for, so she threw it away. Which, again, wasn’t like her, but all you saw was an opportunity. If you picked that letter up from the trash and went to check the case out, Enola could be surprised and proud how resourceful you were, and would surely give you another chance then.

“It’s too dangerous,” she had told you when you had tried to plead with her last time. “You’re too young, you’d need to train—”

“I can train!” you exclaimed, smiling. “I will train, and I will become strong and fast like you.”

She sighed, taking your hand, running her thumb over your knuckles. “There’s still that other problem. You’re too young. I can’t risk it. You need to grow a little and train, and one day I could maybe take you along.”

You scoffed, prying your hands away from her. “That’s not fair, you started when you were my age.”

“I was forced to, in case you don’t remember,” she sighed, turning back to her desk. “Our mother was missing, and our brothers weren’t—”

You interrupted her, “I remember. You found her and on the side, you found Tewkie, saved his life and fell in love with him.” You rolled your eyes. “True love story.”

She was quiet for a moment, laying her hands flat on the desk, staring at the documents on it. “I understand why you feel offended by it, and that it feels like I don’t believe in you. But when I worked on that case, I almost got killed, more than once. I can’t risk it for you.”

You stared at her for a moment longer, but she just shook her head and sat down, starting to go through her mail. You groaned and marched upstairs, making sure the whole building pounded with your footsteps. You knew it was childish, and further made clear to Enola that you weren’t ready for jobs, but you just couldn’t bear to stand by and watch as your sister went on all those exciting adventures.

So, the next time Enola was out of the building, you snuck downstairs and knelt next to the trash bin, digging it for a moment before you found it.

“Miss Birkin… the seamstress having gone missing,” you mumbled, tracing the words on the letter. “Last seen two weeks ago, she didn’t show up to her sister’s birthday party.”

The directions to the meeting point were below, where you were supposedly going to meet her sister. So you took your bag, stuck the letter in there and left the house.

The sun was already setting when you pushed through the old creaky gates. and found yourself in a dim alleyway where you could barely see. You looked around, trying to see if there was someone with you, but it was too dark.

Dread filled you, a gnawing feeling that something was wrong. Every single nerve end screamed for you to run, but you were too stubborn to leave — you had taken this job, you should finish it. Going back and whimpering and having to tell Enola you failed because you got too scared wasn’t an option.

Then, a shadow. A large shadow, right at the end of the alleyway.

“H-hello?” you squeaked out, and right after that, you heard a loud clunk and you screamed, spinning around to see a large, bulky man closing the gate with a chain and a lock.

“It’s not Holmes,” someone said from behind you, and you felt something sharp pressing to your side. “Who are you?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to make up a way to escape, but came up with nothing. “I-I’m nobody, I just… I ordered something from Miss Birkin, is she here?”

The man snickered as he pressed himself closer to you, his disgusting breath blowing into your face. “I’m afraid Miss Birkin doesn’t exist, and the only person knowing that name would be Enola Holmes, but you’re not her. You’re too small, too young to be her. Too scared. But I bet you’re someone important to miss Holmes, aren’t you? Maybe a little sibling who snooped through her papers?”

Your heart thrummed a little louder, sweat trickling down your forehead. But you still uttered out, “I… I don’t know what you are talking about. I’m just here to—.”

“Lying won’t help you, little one. You’re neck deep in trouble now.” He then shifted to look at the man at the gates. “What will we do with this one?”

The man growled in frustration. “We’ll take ‘em to the boss. He’ll decide what to do.He will be enraged that we didn’t catch that little brat detective, but if this one is a Holmes too and we will let ‘em go, he’ll have our heads for it.”

The guy behind you nodded and the next moment, you were bagged and dragged deeper to the alleyway.

The sack smelled of damp fabric and sweat, making it difficult to not cough. The other man, you guessed the larger one, had wrung your hands together behind your back and pushed you forward. You tried to count steps, take mental notes of turns, but eventually you had to give up. The pain combined with fear were too distracting on their own already.

Finally, you were led to a building, and you heard chatter briefly, which was silenced when you were brought in. Stairs up, turn right, a long hallway… three knocks and you were pushed inside a room and pushed onto a chair before the bag was finally taken off your head, and you couldn’t keep in your coughs.

The man in front of you eyed you for a moment with a scowl, and then lifted his eyes to the two men above you. “Who’s this? I told you to bring me Enola Holmes, this is not her.”

“We know, boss,” the slimmer guy drawled. “But we have a strong suspicion that this one is her little sibling, or her friend. She knew about the details we only sent to Miss Holmes.”

The man immediately started to smile, and sat behind his desk. “Well, that does change things. Miss Holmes will likely be here in no time.”

You shook your head. “I don’t know anyone named Enola—”

The larger pushed the back of your head, making you jerk onwards. “You only speak when spoken to!”

The man in front of you smiled and held up a hand. “Now, now, Mr. Martin. No need to be rough with them. They’re our guest.”

Mr. Martin sighed. “Right, boss. I’m sorry.”

The man behind the desk — the boss — leaned forward. “Now, little one. What’s your name?”

You stayed silent, trying to hold his gaze despite your fear.

“Hm. What about your friend? Or actually, I think she’s your sister. You’re too snoopy not to be a Holmes. Tell us about her a little. We’ll let you go if you tell me a few things.”

You still were silent, and the boss nodded to one of the men behind you, and you felt the knife pressing on your side again, making you squeeze your eyes shut.

The boss sighed, cocking his head at you. “Now, I don’t like hurting my guests, but I’m sure you know you’re forcing my hand here.”

Then, the lights flickered a few times, making everyone pause and look up.

“What the devil is going on?!” the boss shouted. “Check the entrances and exits, she—”

The lights turned off with a loud bang, and on the next moment, the room was full of smoke. You felt a knife against your wrists and winced, thinking the man was trying to open your arteries, but then you felt the binds around your wrists snap and you were pulled up and led out of the office.

It was Enola, of course it was. And you were grateful for that, of course, but as you ran, you knew what kind of talk you’d go through with her as soon as you’d be back at her office.

And sure enough, as soon as you were back in your own room, Enola began her lecture.

“What were you thinking?!” Enola shouted, crossing her arms. “You could have gotten yourself killed!”

“I– I wanted to prove myself to you, I wanted to, I don’t know, make you realise I could do what you could. But I now know it was stupid, I know you were right. I’ll never be as good as you.”

“This isn’t about proving how good you are, or how good you would be, going to try and solve cases without me is dangerous, and there are a lot of people wanting to capture me because they know I’m a threat!”

“I thought it’s something you threw away because of it being too easy,” you whispered, looking down. “I thought that I’d go there and find the seamstress in just an hour because there has been a misunderstanding.”

Enola took a deep breath. “I threw it away because I knew it was a trap. The seamstress’s assumed sister wanted to meet me at a crime infested area, in a dark alleyway. Sherlock warned me about someone named Edward Mitchell being after me, he’s a boss of a criminal organisation in that area. And I knew that the moment I’d step in there, they’d drag me along and imprison me, hoping to get Sherlock to come and rescue me so they’d be free to do whatever they wanted.”

“And I fell right through that trap,” you mumbled. “I’m an idiot.”

Enola shook her head, sitting down on your bed. “You’re not. You tried to help, and I understand that. But these kinds of things are the exact reason why I don’t want you to go take on cases yet.”

You sat by her, leaning your head against her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

You sat there in silence for a moment, before Enola gently pushed you up. “You know, I could talk to Miss Edith next time I see her, ask her if she’d be willing to take a new student to learn self-defense. With enough training, you’ll make a fine assistant, and one day, a detective.”

You blinked at her. “Really?”

She smiled at you, stroking your back. “Really.”

You surged forward to hug her, and she laughed, hugging you back. Despite all that happened that day, you felt like things were turning out well after all.

[bookishtheaterlover7]

I love for fics like this! Mycroft is an ass, Y/N is a badass with a soft spot for Enola, and Sherlock is her smooth talking man 😍😍😍😍😍

Honestly, my kind of fic 🫶

It’s Alright Darling (Sherlock x Reader)

Ok… Was this requested? No. Am I writing it cause anything Henry Cavill related makes me feel happy? Yes. Enjoy!

Being Sherlock Holmes assistant was something a lot of people would kill for and that makes it even better if you think about the irony of it. However, since Sherlock wasn’t a normal person to mostly everything he did, he had decided to hire a woman as his assistant, Mycroft called him mad and unhinged almost every time he brought up her name. (Y/n) was one of the most intelligent people he had ever been around, combining that with a charming personality was the recipe to success.

“Well, well, well I see my brother is full of surprises”

“Hello there Mycroft is so nice to see you again as well”

She spoke in an clearly ironic tone as she took of her gloves, she was never a fan of hats other than the occasions she knew she would be under the sun for hours. As she walked in the living room area for what seemed like their childhood home, Sherlock had requested for (y/n) to arrive a day later than the brothers, knowing that her and his older brother were like oil and water he chose to “prepare the grounds” first.

“Where is the young little Holmes?”

“Inside, talking with miss Harrison”

“Alright… who is miss Harrison?”

“Miss Harrison is an excellent teacher and a friend of mine, come to think of it maybe you should go in and ask her to take you as well… you might be a bit old but I’m sure she can make an exception”

Mycroft found (y/n) intolerant, she was dismissive, unladylike, mouthy and a feminist, he still does not understand what asset do she brought to his younger brother. She only smiled while sitting at one of the chairs

“I will let you know I was an excellent student in all my academic achievements, although I suppose you were one as well that doesn’t really prove someone’s intelligence or manners, right mister Holmes?”

Sherlock let a laugh be heard at (y/n)’s quick response, even though he would never take sides and sometimes wanted them to get along, he had accepted that it would never happen and simply enjoyed the situation.

“Amused brother? Of course you are as mad as her since you didn’t only hire her, you kept her around and brought her in my home”

“Now Now mister Holmes, what type of gentleman would you be if you threaten to through out not just a lady but your younger brothers guest, unfortunately you are just further proving my point about our little quarrel”

Before he had the chance to respond a young girl walked in, wearing a white undergarment dress and looking disheveled. The girl who (y/n) could only assume was the infamous Enola didn’t even notice her being in this room.

“No, don’t do this to me. Let me remain happy, I am happy here”

“You are a young woman now Enola, you need an education”

“Test me, on anything you think I need to know in order to be sufficient for this world”

“If she taught you so well, you wouldn’t be standing in your undergarment in front of me”

Silence fell in the room for a quick second. His disgusting answer to his own sister made (Y/n) get on her feet, Enola quickly let her gaze fall on the young woman that was now in her house.

“Why is that a problem Mister Holmes? Undergarments are scandalous for the men when a woman they are interested in wears them, she is your underaged sister”

“This is a family matter, it does not- I repeat- does not concern you”

“Of course it does not concern me, but it does concern me when a young girl is being held accountable for walking in her home, to her brothers, completely covered and still being shamed for it”

Enola understood by that quick argument the lady was not here because of Mycroft, so it only meant she was Sherlocks company, she is not his wife since if not invited he would have at least informed their mother, so perhaps a girlfriend?

“Enola you have no hopes of making a husband out of your state, neither do you… miss (y/l/n)”

“I don’t want a husband”

Enola claimed, raising her voice at the ridiculous claim her brother made. Even though they haven’t been properly introduced they had developed a mutually liking for each other, at a brief look they seemed to have the same outlook on life.

“And that is another thing you need to have educated out of you”

At that Enola turned to look at her other brother, Sherlock, who had remained radio silent throughout this entire conversation. Enola kneeled in front of him, as Sherlock looked at her and then broke eye contact to look down at the book he was holding.

“Sherlock, Don’t let him do this to me”

“You are his ward”

“Make me yours. Guide me. Teach me. For him I am nuisance. For you-”

“Enola. I’m sorry, but it’s out of my hands”

“Just like his cruelty to our mother was out of your hands”

Cruelty to their mother? No, Sherlock would have never allowed his mother to go through anything, he is a man of honor… isn’t he? (Y/n) felt her stomach tighten as she saw this tragic scene unravel, she hoped Sherlock would have accepted and took her in.

“She is not dangerous. She is remarkable and always has been. And if you still can’t see that then shame on you both”

“So remarkable she left you in my care”

Mycroft shot back. (Y/n) could almost feel the pain the young girl felt, you could see it in her eyes how that was an arrow straight in her heart. (Y/n) decided to step up and try to help, she approached the young girl with a kind smile and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here to calm down. Seems like your brothers don’t share the same love and admiration you do for the woman that made them who they are”

“I am a self made successful man”

“but you wouldn’t be no man if the woman you frown upon had not broken her hips and went through hours of painful labor. Take that as some food for thought before you school me on my manners”

Sherlock looked at her in awe, as she stood proudly next to his sister and became the shield he should have been. Standing up for a girl you haven’t even spoken to or knew before this.

“Let’s go young Enola, seems like a woman’s presence is wanted here only when she does as she is told”

-

“Come in”

“Can I open this door and be promised that I will remain safe or are you holding a dagger and you are ready to take me out of this world?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, dagger you in your own household? I would probably wait to poison you a few days after we leave and write the paperwork of you firing me”

He smiled at her plan as he closed the door in her room. It was already nightfall and the only light here were a few candles, he had let her take a breather after the unfortunate event that had occurred previously. Even though he wasn’t the one that she went toe to toe with, his silence was as obnoxious to her as his brothers loud ignorance towards the female gender.

“You are upset”

“Of course not, why would I be? It’s not like you let that man embarrass his own sibling and talk down to his mother without her being in the room”

She had remained sited in the chair next to the table, a book open that seemed like she was writing on rather than reading it. He was aware she was holding a journal, he didn’t blame her for it, having a job like she did she was in desperate need of something to keep her sane.

“This is a very wary subject”

“I am aware of it, I just can’t seem to understand why not comfort her, try to change your brothers opinion, anything that will show you care for her, you do care for her, right Sherlock?”

“She is my baby sister (y/n), that’s a given”

She closed her book. She ran her hand through her  through her hair and got up from her sit, her hands going in front of her torso at a defensive demeanor, even when Sherlock should be cold or show his higher position to her, he couldn’t help but seek some type of truce with her, how could he not? She looked so beautiful even when she mad at him, the eyes he was so caught up in looked at him with fury, her delicate feature went harsh and she was dressed more… lightly now.

“I spoke with her earlier, she was in the garden”

“I know, I saw.”

“She asked me about you, asked me if you were my lady”

Her eyes went wide for a split second before regaining her composer and turned her back to him. She approached the window before she spoke.

“If you think of how she became familiar with me, she was probably certain I wasn’t even friends with your holier than God brother”

“You mustn’t be angry at me”

“And why is that?”

“Because other than my sister and mother, I care for you and for your opinion about me”

She remained silent. Not only because she was caught off guard by his comment, she also didn’t know what he was talking about. Sherlock stepped closer to her, his steps making her heart flutter and her palms sweaty. He stopped when he was right behind her, he wanted to hug her, caress her, kiss her, still he was uncertain of how she would react.

“I still remember the night you got kidnapped”

Someone that Sherlock had helped uncover had escaped prison and kidnapped her. Luckily, she was retrieved safely yet again she was still shaken up by the scary experience, when Sherlock found her awake next to the fireplace she was so vulnerable and grateful to be alive she launched at him and kissed him passionately.

He shared his bed with her, in the middle of the night though she had gotten up and left, when morning came she acted like nothing had happened, barely even looked at him in the eyes for a week.

“Please Sherlock don’t pick at my brain”

“Why did you leave that night? Did you regret it that much”

“That night… was the most blissful I have ever been…. However you are still my boss Sherlock”

“That’s all I am to you? Your boss?”

(Y/n) turned to look at him, tears welling up in her eyes. Those eyes would be the death of him, it was with no doubt the window to her soul, that pure gentle soul of hers.

“What am I to you then Sherlock? This wasn’t just about me”

“You are…. what I never knew I needed”

His hands went up to her forearms instinctively, a soft caress that made her think his hands were made out of the finest silk, she felt goosebumps as he touched her. Her lips parted slightly as she took in a heavy breath, her eyes searching for a hint of a lie in his words.

“Sherlock”

“Shhhhh, It’s alright darling. You don’t have to say anything”

At that he slowly leaned in, his lips on top of hers at a shy and gentle kiss. Her hand went to his neck, bringing her torso to touch his as the kiss deepened, her entire body felt a rush go through it as they should the passion they held for each other with this kiss. As she pulled back her fingertips traveled to his face, taking in his attractive features

“I had almost forgotten how good of a kisser you are”

“Oh love, you will never forget it ever again”

[s3raphimssins]

Can I request Dazai x fem!reader in an arrange marriage??? Also a Royal AU?

I think id be a very cute oneshot!

Tysm

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷prompt: All the pretty stars shine for you my love, am I that girl you dream of? all those times I said that I'm your girl, you make me feel like your whole world. -pretty when you cry

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷pairings: Dazai x fem!reader royal au

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷warnings: royal problems that's it.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Felix's note: OMG! ofcourse, I love this request so much thank you for this, sorry if its a little long I got carried away also can you recognize one of the Enola Holmes reference?. pink hearts divider by: @cafekitsune <3

"hello Prince....?" you were standing next to a small boy after your parents told you you'll be spending a lot of time together.

"Dazai, and you are...? princess?"

" 'name' " you smiled reaching out to shake his hand. Your parents and Dazais Father smiled at you two and continued to carry on their conversation at the table. As you two talked to eachother at your own table. Due to the issues between 2 of the most prosperous nation, both the children were given in the marriage of one another. It was for diplomatic reasons.

⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇

And that is how you ended up right now. As the two of you gre older your parents forced you together. Dazai's father training him to take the throne and you were forced to learn all the rules and regulations. "please, leave" you said annoyed, your parents were throwing you two an engagement ball in Dazais nation and he was here to pick you. You didn't mean to lash out on him but you've been learning since morning about your duties and how to run a nation all the while keeping within the lines.

You heard him sigh and leave as your stylist shut the door, to get ready. You stood on the platform and she picked some items of clothing for you. It wasn't that you didn't like Dazai, he was a charming prince who every commoner to royalty liked but you couldn't express or find the words to what you were feeling.

"oof" you huffed as the stylist tied your corset. You went to the dressing table to get everything done and after an hour you were ready. You exited the dressing room to be greeted by Dazai standing beside your door waiting. "you waited?" you asked a bit surprised. "Would rather stay here than out". He said looking at you like you were the most beautiful pearl in the ocean. He had thought about it. He didn't mind being engaged to you at all but he knew that you hated it. You weren't mean to him per say but agitated at the things you were forced to do.

"well then what are you waiting for? shall we go?" you asked and walked past him to open the door. You both walked the halls and all of the servants stared in awe at you two. You looking like a majestic angel and he a celestial being in his formal attire. He stopped in his tracks and you looked behind at him and raised a brow in a questioning look. He took out a white rose and put it in your hair. "well, thank you" you gave him a half smile while he returned it with a genuine smile "anything for my lady". You cringed at that "oh shut up". You two continued to walk to the car.

⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇

You reached the ball and heard the people saying how good you two looked, how some ladies and dutchess envied you. You two sat on the thrones next to your parents. As the ceremony commenced you couldn't help but look at Dazai and how he talked to people, how he acted and the little to no details you noticed about him. You wanted to be independent, to rule on your own if not for the stupid deal, you thought he was going to slow you down, but you cant help but feel attached to him, ofcourse he didn't have to know anytime sooner, or...as you planned?

Something made you ick at the Dutchess of your own state talked to Dazai, twirling her hair, laughing, fluttering her fan, and then in the end you saw her and Dazai leaving together in a room...wait IN A ROOM?! That's when you drew the line. Yes you were in denial about loving him and you didn't like the forcible engagement but he was still ENGAGED to you.

You stood up and began to walk to the room and opened the door to see the two talking. "Dear Fiance please tell me where the restroom is in your palace" it came off a bit passive aggressive but ok. . She looked at you and then spoke to Dazai "please sir, i've been meaning to talk to you". He says "perhaps another time i do share your interest" as he left the room to lead you to the bathroom. "your seeing the dutchess??". You said abit agitated.

"shes gone she was flustered. It's okay she wanted to discuss diplomatic relations." You rolled you eyes. "i'm telling you really i have no eyes for anyone but-". You went deep into thought zoning out not hearing what he says. He said something about the reason he gives you gifts or something before you tapped out remembering the first time you met. When your parents signed your life away. When you felt him grab your arm.

"Did you understand what i said?". "YES. you were saying that you..." you stopped to think remembering the times he did stuff for you, When Dazai comforted you after harsh lessons, when he brought you gifts. He looked at you with a serious expression. "It means I love you, now we must return outside Father is looking for me bu-". You interrupted "yes we must return we have much to talk about my dear dear lord you love me, and it appears i love you to" You looked at him with a soft smile. He smiled, not a smirk like usual, a genuine smile as he closed the gap between you two kissing you softly for real.

A Happily Ever After. <3

[jaeyunverse]

into the fandomverse | an enhypen collab call

welcome to into the fandomverse, a collaboration project for all engenes who enjoy writing on tumblr. i recently hit 3k followers and am hosting this event in celebration of said milestone. all details about the collab are under the cut. i hope you consider joining and spread the word so that your friends can join too :’)

collab masterlist

𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘:

the general theme of the collab is that your fic should be set up in an alternate universe that already exists in a movie, show, book, game, comic, kdrama or anime. for example: harry potter x enhypen, haikyuu x enhypen, shadowhunters x enhypen etc. it really doesn’t matter what crossover or universe you choose as long as it is not problematic :)

𝗥𝗨𝗟𝗘𝗦:

there are 21 slots in total i.e three for each member.

slots will be given on a first come, first serve basis so that the allotment is fair.

explicit smut is NOT allowed. implied smut is permitted ONLY for the HYUNG LINE—it goes without saying that you must be an adult if you wish to include anything nsfw in your submission.

member x reader and member x oc are the only pairings allowed. no member x member fics! remember to be inclusive of all races and body types if you are writing a x reader fic.

appearances of members other than the one you have chosen are allowed, but please make sure that the main focus of the fic is your chosen member!

your fic can include sensitive subjects as long as they are not romanticized, portrayed in bad light or represented incorrectly. also, please make sure to put proper trigger warnings above the read more cut once you post your fic.

no racism, ableism, homophobia or similar prejudices. you will be removed from the collab if you are found guilty of harboring them.

the code word is fandom. please mention it while applying for a spot so that i know you have gone through the rules.

the minimum word count is 1k. there is no maximum word count so feel free to let your imagination run free. please note that drabbles, blurbs, reactions, headcanons, series, smaus and timestamps will not be accepted. oneshots only!

plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

be respectful and kind to the other members who are a part of the collab. no hate will be tolerated.

this is not a rule but it would be nice if you had a discord account. i have made a server for easy communication and interaction between the collab members. it’s okay if you do not have an account!! i will update you through tumblr dms :’)

if you have any further queries, don't hesitate to dm me <3

𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗟𝗬:

applications will be accepted through tumblr asks.

make sure to include your chosen member + fandom + the code word hidden in this post while sending in your application.

after your application has been accepted, please reblog this post to spread the message :D

𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦/𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛𝗗𝗥𝗔𝗪𝗔𝗟𝗦:

the tentative deadline for posting your entry for the collab is 30th september, 2024.

the deadline is mostly for namesake and you are free to post your submission whenever you want, but please do not take undue advantage of the time flexibility.

i understand if you want to withdraw your application from the collab but please think carefully before applying.

𝗦𝗟𝗢𝗧𝗦

HEESEUNG: @hanverse (twd) | @flwrshee (25/21) | @boyfhee (extraordinary you) | @tarcherz (ever after high)

JAY: @soobisms (saiki k.) | @junityy (before sunrise) | @lheewonz (demon slayer) | @4xiaojun (maid sama!)

JAKE: @geombyu (fire force) | @hsgwrld (business proposal) | @notthatsamkim (cinderella) | @haesbit (kim possible)

SUNGHOON: @seongclb (hp) | @soobnny (aouad) | @ijhyo (enola holmes) | @hoondrive (spiderman)

SUNOO: @invvuu (tbhk) | @redm4ri (stargirl) | @sunny-reis (the girl who fell beneath the sea) | @enheaven (vampire academy)

JUNGWON: @yjwfav (jjk) | @haknom (see you in my 19th life) | @misojunnie (10 things i hate about you) | @jaeminri (summer strike)

RIKI: @jaeyunverse (spiderman) | @cinnajun (pjo) | @jennaissantes (our beloved summer) | @tyunni (13 going on 30)

[willowpenguinwritting]

Roses--- Enola Holmes oneshot short thing.

Enola was on a walk with Tewksbury to "clear her head" at his suggestion. So far he had already stopped to smell five flowers, examine six and stroked at least two and they had only left 5 minutes ago.

It wasn't that Enola was specifically counting but she wanted the walk to be over and get back to thinking about her case. It was an interesting one and not quite what she expected.

Tewksbury stood up straight again after smelling another flower, "It was a petunia I had to." he tried to explain.

Enola shook her head, "Save it, I did not come on this walk for you to go on about flowers and expect me not to want to think about my case."

They walked a bit more, Enola was ahead and not speaking a word. Tewksbury was failing to cheer her up despite his desperate attempts his funny faces and voice impressions hadn't worked. Enola continued to lead and didn't seem to notice when Tewksbury stopped to admire a dandelion.

Enola paused in her path to look at some roses, "It's full of thorns."

"Well there are two ways to see it, you can be grateful that thorny plants have beautiful roses or ungrateful that roses have sharp thorns." Tewksbury smiled as he pulled out some gardening gloves from his back pocket.

She sighed, "I need to get back to my case." she said filling with agitation.

"Oh you need to get back to your case." mocked Tewksbury with a laugh.

Enola's response was simple and easy, jokingly punching him in the arm, "Oi, I am trying to pick you some nice flowers here."

"I have enough flowers from when you got me some this morning," Enola complained.

"If we still have spare vases we can have more flowers," Tewksbury said as he began to smell the petals.

Enola scowled "Last time you said that you used glasses and mugs and we had no drinking vessels other than bowls."

Tewksbury turned his puppy dog eyes to try and convince her.

"Stop looking at me like that," Enola said confused.

Tewksbury grinned, "Like what?"

"Like you're about to kiss me as if it will solve everything."

He grinned wider before leaning in to kiss Enola's cheek and gradually planted kisses along her cheek before reaching her mouth. It still felt as if there were fireworks exploding every time they kissed and for the marques of Basilwether, it was perfect.

Enola couldn't help but find herself smiling as they pulled away, exchanging grins filled with more happiness they lighted the fireworks again whilst kissing for a good few more minutes.

"Come on," Enola grinned, "I really do have to get back to my case now I've had my walk."

Tewksbury shook his head, he poked her nose gently before kissing her for a bit more. The firework show began to end as he knew Enola would only get more fed up if she wasn't to return to her case soon.

Enola held her hand out which Tewksbury took and together, hand in hand they headed back to the flat. It wasn't their flat as they didn't live together. It was Tewksbury's yet somehow Enola spent almost every day and night there.

When they arrived back on the doorstep were Tewksbury's seeds from his plant newspaper he was subscribed to. Enola smiled as she saw that they were roses. She was full of joy that her rose didn't seem to have thorns.

Enola set instantly back to her case board and finished off adding the string when she saw something had been added. It was a small piece of paper right in the middle with the words I love you written on it. It was in a cursive that couldn't belong to anyone but the Vicount Tewksbury, her Vicount Tewksbury. However, if her mother asked he was still a useless man. Well, it was still only a man on occasion. There were most certainly times when he would seem like a toddler hyper from too much sugar, which mostly occurred when they ended out near any sort of flower show.

Well, my previous Enola Holmes thing kind of went insane so I felt obliged to write another. I don't know if I quite got the character's mannerisms quite right but I tried to. I hope you enjoyed reading this!!

[all-by-myself98]

Good evening!

We've pause your regularly scheduled programming to say that this fanfic blog is making a comeback...

Besties I'm aware that it's been like a couple years(???) since I've posted any oneshots or any kind of writing on this blog but listen in the wise words of the fanfic writers before me, my life has been crazy.

But I'm coming back! And I would love your help with getting started again! I already have some ways of getting myself started with ideas, but I would love your ideas too! Whether they're oneshots, headcanons, or just random ramblings that you want my thoughts on, I'm ready for it all and my ask box is looking mighty tempting, isn't it?

As I said before, I am open to oneshot requests and/or headcanon requests. Depending on how a oneshot is progressing, it may turn into a limited series, but that's just going to be based off of how much ideas I can wring out of one wet rag.

I am open to any of the Big Three: fluff, angst, and smut!

This also of course means...

NO MINORS INTERACTING WITH MY WORK, PLEASE AND THANK YOU!!! MDNI!!!

If you are a minor and you attempt to skirt around this rule and I find out, I'm literally wasting no time in adding you to my very empty blocked list. So maybe just don't try it?

Fandoms and characters I will write for:

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare (141 squad + König, Graves, Nikolai, Alex, Farah, & Laswell)

Marvel/MCU (the Moon Knight system, Layla El-Faouly, any member of Defenders including Frank Castle, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Pietro Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Miguel O'Hara, Hobie Brown, Logan Howlett, Victor Creed, Laura Kinney, Valkyrie)

DC (any members of batfam, Aquafam, Justice Society, Titans, and Suicide Squad)

Star Wars (any member of Bad Batch, Captain Rex, Commander Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn, Din Djarin, Boba Fett, Jango Fett, Lando Calrissian, Poe Dameron, Finn)

Star Trek (Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Uhura, Captain or Admiral Pike)

Arcane: League of Legends (Silco, Viktor, Jayce, Vi, Sevika, Steb (YES, IM INCLUDING FISH MAN, DO NOT JUDGE ME HE WAS A CUTIE PIE))

Baldur's Gate 3 (Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Karlach, Laezel, Wyll, Rolan)

Other misc characters including but maybe not completely(?) limited to Riddick, Master Chief, Hellboy, Prince Nuada, Aemond Targaryen, Davos Blackwood, Tormund Giantsbane, Geralt of Rivia, Lambert, Elrond Peredhel (LOTR and TROP versions acceptable), and Sherlock Holmes (BBC and Netflix!Enola versions acceptable)

Again! This list could change! If it does change, I will edit this post, and then make an announcement of what my changes are, but this post will almost always be the best reference to find out what I'm writing or who I'm writing for!

Things I will not write:

Minors in sexual/smutty situations. They're either aged up or they're going in the trash, #sorrynotsorry

Pedophilia

Noncon

Hardcore stalking and/or harrassment

Physical and sexual abuse (unless it's like part of a character's backstory then it may be referenced, but I am not writing it out)

Anything else thats just. standard generic icks or no-nos. If you need clarification on something you're not sure I'm okay with, just ask

PSA: I am a white woman. The majority of my writings will be "x reader", and they will usually be fem!reader or afab!reader too, so if you wish for me to write for a gn!reader, please let me know in your request and I will honor that to the best of my ability!

I will also always try to be as vague as possible with other details such as race, hair color, eye color, etc., unless I happen to be writing an OC character with a specified appearance. But I imagine sometimes I'll make mistakes. I'll kick myself for it and I'll say sorry a million and one times, but it's almost inevitable and I'm an idiot and proofreading? whats that?? and I want to prepare you all now. And, if I do make a mistake, or if my writing ever seems to break that promise of being race vague, please let me know what I've done wrong and I will always try to alter what I can so everyone, regardless of what their race or appearance is, can feel welcome, accepted, and included in my writings!

Okay, you can all return to your regularly scheduled programming now :)

This is Renny signing off!

[shy-blue-blossom]

What I have liked - Masterlist

Masterlists

@floatyflowers - Platonic relationships

@avocado-writing - Bullet Train and more

@writingsofwesteros - House of Dragon

@mrsstruggle - The lost Child (Teen Wolf x Marcel AU crossover)

@maaarijaaa Mine - Sherlock Holmes story (Henry Cavil) (Enola Holmes)

@haikyuucute - anime

@scandinavianfairytale - masterlist

@headcans-oneshots-and-stuff - Dc x sister/daughter/lover reader other masterlist

@cruelfvkingsummer - Tia’s writing nook (18+)

@perpetuallydaydreaming - marauders x reader, Harry Potter, Masterlist

@f10werfae - lumberjack Henry Cavil and more, Masterlist

@oh-for-fic-sake - x reader, Masterlist

@oh-for-fic-sake-library - x reader, Masterlist

@alyswritings - x daughter reader, x sister reader, x platonic reader, Masterlist

OneShots

Noticed glances - Elendil x F!Reader, @catyo90

Family of badasses - Jax Teller x sister reader, sons of anarchy x marvel crossover @fanficimagery

[heliads]

Enola Holmes x sibling!reader who isn’t as smart as Enola and feels inadequate because of it; and gets hurt on a case and worries Enola?

'my mind isn't yours' - enola holmes

masterlist

To be a Holmes is to be beyond anything or anyone else. No one in your family would ever say this aloud, of course; it didn’t need to be said, and all of your direct blood relations knew better than to say things that weren’t needed. You have your mind for the long, extensive, impractical thoughts, but spoken words are meant to be heard and pondered over for generations. A Holmes does not need to state their supposed victory over their neighbours. It is simply known and celebrated in the glorious expanse of their own private intellect.

Sometimes, though, again in the quiet confines of your mind, you wonder if this divine knowledge skipped a beat when it came to you. You may be a Holmes in blood and legal right, but that doesn’t mean you think like them. Sometimes, it feels a bit like being an outsider in your own family, watching Sherlock and Enola race off on proverbial puzzles while you sit back and try to pick up the pieces they’ve already put together.

You try not to let it get to you, but it’s hard not to feel some sort of inferior. You’re a clever student in your own right, but clever alone does not a Holmes make. You’re supposed to be a genius like your brother or a prodigy like your sister, but instead you just feel like you. Y/N Holmes, not a screwup in any sense but worse than that to some– completely, utterly normal. Base level. Right in the middle of the pack if a little bit above.

To a Holmes, though, mediocrity is a mortal sin. Sherlock and Enola seem leagues out of your reach. Since Enola is closest to you in age, you feel the sharp stab of that comparison with extra burn. She excels even despite the extra burden of being a young woman in this world of yours, but you could never burst the bubble and go shooting far beyond the stars like her.

You’ve never brought up any of this to either Enola or Sherlock, of course, but there’s no reason to do so. You have no doubt that they both realized your inadequacies compared to them far early on. Why comment on something that’s so obvious? Every time you’re working on a case together and they both figure out the twist in the plot ages before you, you can feel that deep cut slice open afresh. You don’t have to be a complete genius, you were never planning on becoming a mastermind academic anyway, but goodness knows you really want to feel like something compared to them.

It aches away, but what can you do? With your mother off doing who knows what, Sherlock and Enola are the closest you have to family. You have your friends, of course, but they don’t understand what it is to be a Holmes, even if you don’t entirely feel like one all the time either. To put it simply, it’s your siblings or nothing sometimes, and goodness knows there’s an awful lot of aching in nothingness even when the only alternative makes you feel terrible about yourself too.

And thus you find a way to sit on the outskirts of the case discussion and puzzle solving sessions anyway. Maybe you can’t always be the first to untangle the riddles, but you can be the first to offer up a cup of tea, and sometimes there’s something they’ve overlooked in their grand hurry to get to the finish line that you can point out and feel useful for along the way. It’s not awful, no, not in the slightest. You just wish it could be a little better as well.

You’re reminded of this little agony whenever they stumble upon a new case, which, as luck would have it, happened recently. Mysterious ransom notes are popping up all over town. Some group of strangers is threatening the top businesses around, demanding cash and gold in exchange for being left alone. No one was really taking the notes seriously until a small bank ignored the messages and had their establishment robbed before being burnt to the ground.

Now, the case has been turned over to the Holmes’ possession. Well, it’s been given to Sherlock and Enola, to be precise. They’ve been kind enough to allow you to join their inner circle while they try to puzzle the whole thing out, but you swear there’s this unspoken agreement that they’ll be the ones finding the solution, not you. It’s not like they’d ever bar you from speaking, they just know that you won’t have anything new to say that they hadn’t already come up with.

You sit silently, watching them go back and forth. Sherlock and Enola get lost in their own world at times like this, forgetting there’s even a country or universe outside of their feverish planning. At the end of an hour’s time, though, they’ve decided that the criminals must be hidden somewhere near an abandoned railway station near the southern end of the city, and that their main modus operandi involves bribing secretaries in each building to anonymously drop off the notes, then clue them into easy ways to get into the businesses without getting caught.

More importantly, this group of thieves has managed to get their hands on a master ring of keys to the city through bribing an overworked and embittered assistant of the chief inspector. So long as these crooks have that key ring, they’ll be able to let themselves into whatever building they please, and the demands will just keep worsening until the entire city has been wrung dry.

An idea is occurring to you. You may not have been able to figure out the clues quite as easily as Sherlock and Enola, but you can still be helpful. While they’re haggling over how exactly to move forward, an idea is already occurring to you. You take after your mother in one important manner:  you are a person of action. When you are given direction, you follow it exactly. And, when you come across a situation in need of a physical solution, you take charge and get the job down. Adrenaline is your best friend, followed quickly by good balance and good coordination. This, at last, is where you can step in.

Sherlock and Enola are too busy with their plotting to notice when you sneak out of Sherlock’s flat and creep into the city. You’ve got an hour or two until nightfall, which means it’s the perfect time to strike. These robbers will have day jobs and places to be. There’s a reason all of the attacks happened at night, it’s because these people had to keep up pretenses until they could break into the businesses under the cover of darkness.

That means you’ll have a very short window of time in which to find their hideout and grab the master key ring before they come back. You don’t doubt that the key ring will be in their foxhole near the abandoned railway station; they can’t exactly risk bringing it back to any of their respective flats and having it found out by the maids or neighbours.

You stealthily make your way over to the abandoned railway station. The sun is setting much faster than you’d like, so much for taking your time to thoroughly scout out the place. Then again, that doesn’t much matter. What’s most important is getting that key ring and getting out, then seeing the looks on Sherlock and Enola’s faces when they realize you’ve saved the day.

It is this thought of victory that propels you into the station house. You stalk down the dusty corridors, checking in rooms and peering in the drawers of desks. Most everything here seems long abandoned, but there’s one room at the far end of the hall that seems most frequently used, at least judging by the smears of fresh mud outside the door. 

After pausing to listen carefully in case of approaching footsteps, you quickly try the doorknob and are surprised to find it opens easily. These guys were so sure of themselves that they didn’t even bother to lock the door. You try a few drawers in the desk in the center of the room, and you grin in silent victory when you find the key ring sitting in one of them, covered halfway by a stack of folders labeled with the names of various buildings in the city.

You grab the key ring and the folders as well, just in case extra evidence is needed. Just as you’re straightening up, though, you hear sounds echoing through the dusty hallways. You panic, quickly closing the desk drawers and heading for the door. You won’t have time to run, though; you can see a silhouette in the corridor, right outside the door.

Instead, you flatten yourself to the wall right next to the door. Moments after you get into position, the door flies open and a man steps inside. Brow furrowed, he calls out a name, likely one of his compatriots.

“Miller? Was that you I heard?”

The second he’s clear of the door, you immediately scurry back outside. You do your best to be quiet, but the man whips around.

“Hey! Get back here!”

You’re not all that inclined to follow instructions, especially when doing so would likely bring great danger onto yourself, so you hurl yourself out into the corridor, dashing down the dusty floor in a mad sprint. The man immediately gives chase. He almost catches up to you by the end of the hallway, but a series of quick turns give you a chance to put more distance between the two of you again.

All that’s left between you and the freedom of the outside air is a wide, rickety staircase. You go up the stairs as quickly as you can. Risking a glance behind you so you can tell how close the man is behind you, your eyes widen when you realize he’s pulled out a knife. You’re almost to the top, so close, but the man lunges at you in an attempt to slow you down and you feel a hot pain as the knife cuts through your sleeve and slices your arm. It’s not a deep cut, or you don’t think so, at least, but it’s the extra incentive you need to push yourself to the top of the staircase and out into the open.

Immediately, you’re greeted with loud shouting. For a moment, you panic, and then you realize it’s the inspector with his men. “You’re alright,” one of them tells you, “Stand aside so we can put the thief under arrest.”

You nod, taking a hasty sidestep so you won’t get in their way. The robber comes up just seconds after you, but upon seeing the police, he immediately starts sprinting down the abandoned railway. The inspector and his men give chase, and you watch them go shouting down into the gloomy distance.

You’re not alone for long. Sherlock comes up to you, shaking his head. “That was an absurd move to pull. Give me the key ring and folders, I’ve got to get this to the inspector as soon as possible.”

You want to protest that you should be the one handing over the evidence since you went to so much trouble to get it, but one firm look from Sherlock reminds you of how much trouble you’re probably in for pulling a stunt like this and you quickly hand over the materials. He starts walking back towards the city proper, trading out his spot by your side with your sister.

Enola. Great. She looks furious. “Just what were you thinking?” She asks incredulously. “That was ridiculously stupid. And look, you’re bleeding. This is awful.”

You frown. “Don’t call me stupid.”

“I’m not calling you stupid, just the idea to break into the robbers’ hideaway,” she clarifies. “I mean, why on Earth would you feel compelled to do this?”

Looking at the tortured expression on her face makes the last of your confidence bleed away. The whole point of retrieving the key ring was so your siblings would finally feel like you might be one of their equals, but now they’re even more convinced of your bad decision-making skills. This was precisely the opposite of what was supposed to happen.

“Well, that’s the thing,” you say desperately. “If I can’t be the smart one, if I can’t be the one making all the clever plans and figuring out the loopholes like you and Sherlock, at least I can be the brave one. At least that’s something right I can do.”

Enola’s face slackens. “What are you talking about?”

You laugh bitterly. “I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now. Come on, you can crack cases and solve puzzles in your sleep but you can’t understand your own sibling? I’m not like you two. I’m not as smart as you and Sherlock, and I hate that.”

Enola shakes her head. “I’ve never thought that in my entire life. We’re both chatterboxes, obviously, but just because you weren’t talking as much as either of us didn’t mean I thought you weren’t as smart. I just assumed you were doing your thinking in your head instead of out loud, which was what I was supposed to be doing, anyway.”

You look at her cautiously. “Really?”

“Really,” she promises. “Y/N, the thought had never so much as occurred to me. I’m so sorry, I wish I had realized you felt this way sooner. You’re my sibling. Of course I hold you in the greatest regards. I mean, I never would have been brave enough to march into the thieves’ hideout like that on my own, not without several hours of planning to make myself better about it. You up and decided it just like that. I was so impressed with the whole affair, only I was so worried about you that I forgot to tell you.”

You smile at her. “I’m glad you think so, Enola.”

“Well, of course I do,” she says exasperatedly. “What else would I think about? Now come on, we’ve got to get that arm of yours bandaged. Maybe I’ll see about getting the paper to put something in about you being a local hero while I’m at it, too. It would be quite deserved.”

You laugh. “That’s more than I was expecting, to be sure. I’ll settle for knowing that you’re proud.”

“That, of course, is already decided,” Enola declares, and starts to lead you back into town. Watching the sun set overhead, you think that this little rescue mission of yours went quite according to plan indeed. Perhaps you’ll have to stage another one fairly soon.

enola tag list: @mayfieldss

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[thelomlisfictional]

A Peculiar Woman

(Sherlock Holmes/Female Reader)

POV Sherlock (probably OOC)

"What a peculiar woman, at least more puzzling than any open cases."

NOTE: Decided to post my AO3 stuff (account has the same username as my tumblr), I have a second part to this but I honestly like how vague this is. However, I also totally get the frustration when you love the concept of a oneshot that isn’t continued so I’m not opposed to writing more of this, lmk what y’all think :D

FUN FACTS (about me and this fic): Henry Cavill is like my original celebrity crush so even before he was in Enola Holmes I was picturing him as Sherlock, but this fic is set in modern times cause I overthink stuff. It was going to be in the Enola Holmes universe cause I just love the romance/courting aspect (diehard Jane Austen fan), but I realized that to do this fic justice I would need to study the 1800s and I simply don’t have that much time. Anyways… I hope you enjoy!!!

A woman dressed in business attire strode into the room, quite boldly stating, “My client didn’t do it.”

Interesting, I did not think this man, more adolescent, could afford a lawyer. Alas, she was right; her client hadn’t committed the robbery.

“Are you Mister Stonnes’s lawyer?” Lestrade did always have a knack for questioning the obvious.

If not purely by her announcement of him being her client, she was also clad in a seemingly unworn business skirt and matching blazer, typical of a lawyer. Her eyes were piercing, even with cheeks flushed from exertion, her skin appeared soft. Oddly enough, the only makeup she wore was lipstick. While nice looking in a sense, one would not expect her to be a lawyer. Yet, something in her eyes was akin to a predator circling its prey.

Regardless, how would she possibly know Stonnes was not the perpetrator? Scotland Yard had yet to unravel the not-so-intriguing mystery. By the coffee stain on his shirt and the ill-set photo of him and his girlfriend on his lock screen, Robert Stonnes was on a late-night coffee run with his mistress when the robbery occurred. It always is quite funny watching others try to catch on.

Instead of wasting her breath on his foolish question, she remarked, “Even a blind idiot would be able to see that Mister Stonnes was in Addington during the robbery.”

Sure enough, she presented a receipt from Cranesbury Cafe at the time of the robbery and a USB. Her pitiful client looked comically hopeful; how could Lestrade think Robert Stonnes, so daft he would be unable to think his way out of a paper bag, had committed the robbery? The lawyer ignored the distasteful glare from Donovan as she told Lestrade the contents of the USB, security footage from the very same cafe. I must admit I like her technique of insulting the police while also doing their job for them. A clever one she was, or perhaps comparatively less idiotic. Even so, how did she get the footage? Lestrade at least had enough of a brain to look embarrassed as she dropped the exonerating evidence on the table and directed her client to stand. The almost giddy look she sent Stonnes was strange, very unlike one an experienced lawyer would make. What a peculiar woman, at least more puzzling than any open cases.

“What did you say your name was again?” Perhaps John had heard of her; he was more genial than I. He would know of this exchange immediately; I am sure this is far more interesting than his lunch date anyways.

“I didn’t. Good day, Mr. Holmes.” What an outlandish answer! She is indeed strange. She quickly began walking away as her client signed the necessary paperwork. While my intrigue was increasing, my chance of solving her was decreasing.

Following her, I prodded, "Your lack of answer shows one of two things: you are either rude, which I do not take you to be; or, you have no interest in networking. In which case you are a successful lawyer, your mannerisms and unworn clothes disprove that theory, stupid and inexperienced, possible yet improbable, or, not who you say you are, evidenced by the haste at which you are leaving. So what are you hiding, Madam?"

Now outside the building, she stopped midstep and turned with a sickly-sweet smile plastered on her face, "The name is Y/N, it has been lovely meeting you. If you would like to contact me with any legal questions, here is my card." Her words were laced with venom as she handed the card over. With that, she began walking again.

The grey card was blank except for her name and number, written in small golden font.

[make-me-imagine]

Cheers To Us

Plot: After returning to London after a case, Sherlock decides to make up for some lost time.

Prompts: 'Making the reader a romantic dinner as a surprise' + 'Valentines Picnic' and 'Surprise reunion on Valentines Day' + 'Valentines Day proposal'

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Gn!Reader

Requested By: Anonymous; @anilynworlds & @will-grammer

Warnings: Use of Y/n multiple times

Words: 1.7k

A/n: Valentines Day at this time wasn't celebrated as much as it is now. Usually just with cards and maybe flowers.

-

As Sherlock walked down the streets of London, arriving back after spending a little over week in the countryside on a case, his mind was on you. He was aware of the fact he had not been spending much time with you before he left on this case, and then he was gone for a few days longer than intended. He missed you.

Fearing you may think he is neglecting your relationship, he wanted it make it up to you. But, he needed to decide how. A gift, a day out, dinner, something more?

Stopping in his tracks as some women came out of a shop ahead of him, his eyes dropped to the papers in their hands. Frilly, seemingly handmade cards.

Suddenly it clicked in his mind what time of year it was. Valentines Day. The holiday had becoming more popular in London in the last couple years, but he had never paid it any mind. But now that he was in a relationship, perhaps he should.

As he looked into the shop, seeing various gifts, and flowers, he smiled softly as he entered the store. He may not be able to get back the time with you he missed out on, but perhaps he could create a special memory in its place.

After acquiring some flowers, Sherlock continued on his way down the street. Looking to his left as he passed another shop, he felt himself stopping again. This time, his eye was stuck on an engagement ring displayed in the window.

It was very you, it was perfect actually.

As he move towards the entrance, he stopped again, becoming aware of what he was doing. It was so natural, there was no hesitation, no second thought.

He felt his heart begin hammering in his chest as he thought more about it. Proposing to you, marrying you. Looking back at the ring in the window, Sherlock found himself smiling at the thought.

Why hadn't he thought about it before? The two of you never really talked about marriage, but he was aware you two acted like a married couple in many ways already. You had been considering moving in to 221B after Sherlock mentioned it a few weeks back. You were there so often you might as well live there.

After another short moment of thought, Sherlock stepped into the shop, with much more on his mind than before.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Opening the note you received from the carrier, your heart was beating excitedly. You recognized Sherlock's handwriting immedietely and you were eager to learn what he had to say.

'Dear Y/n, I've returned to London and I would like to have dinner with you. Tonight, seven o'clock. Tenderly, Sherlock.'

Though the message was a bit shorter than you had hoped, you were still excited at the idea of having dinner with him. You had not known when he would be able to return to London, and you feared it would be another week. It had seemed like forever since you last seen him, let alone spent time with him alone.

Checking the clock, you realized you still had a few hours to kill before seven. Hopefully it would go by quickly. Until then, you could decide what to wear.

After eagerly and impatiently waiting for the time to come, you finally made your way to Sherlock's apartment. Exiting the taxi, you smiled as you made your way quickly to his door.

Taking a breath before knocking, you felt an excited flutter in your chest.

As the door swung open, Sherlock's smiling face came into view.

"Y/n right on time." He greeted as he stepped forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Welcome back, I missed you." You said with a smile as Sherlock smiled down at you.

"Thank you. I missed you as well." He said softly as he gently caressed your cheek before leaning in to kiss you.

Your eyes fluttered closed as a warm tingle washed over you.

After pulling away, he held open the door for you to enter, where he quickly helped you to take off your jacket.

"How did your case go?" You asked with true curiosity.

Sherlock let out a soft sigh "It was a bit tedious at times, but I wrapped it up fairly easily." Looking around his apartment he cleared his throat a little. "I'm sorry for the mess."

Looking around you smiled, it was actually a lot cleaner than normal. There were still papers, reports, evidence and case boards everywhere, with no clean table in sight, but there was much more order to it than usual.

As you looked around more, you spotted in the middle of the apartment, something you were surprised you had missed.

A blanket was placed in the middle of the room with candles, flowers, plates and drinking glasses.

You let out a soft chuckle as you approached, understanding that this was the dinner Sherlock had invited you for.

Sherlock stood beside you looking down at it with a gaze of uncertainty.

You looked over at him and he shrugged his head slightly "I wanted to surprise you with dinner, but with the cooking, I had...forgotten to clear off the dining table. But, I thought this might do?"

You smiled, amused and touched. Kissing him on the cheek briefly you let out a soft giggle

"It's lovely Sherlock. It's like a picnic!"

"A picnic? Yes I suppose it is." He said with mild amusement. "Please, sit." He gestured at a plump pillow he had set on the floor for you.

As you sat down he crouched down, grabbing the flowers and handing them to you "For you."

You grinned as you took them, smelling them. "They're amazing Sherlock, thank you."

"You are very welcome."

As he made his way into his kitchen, you watched him with an adoring and amused smile as he moved around the kitchen with an almost uncharacteristic clumsiness.

"Can I help?"

"No no, it's fine." He said hurriedly as he began bringing over various plates and dishes of food.

You could tell there was much on his mind, and it made you wonder if it was all about this dinner, or if he was worried about something else.

As he sat down dish after dish you felt a growing amount of awe. Meat, vegetables, potatoes, breads.

"Wow Sherlock this is honestly a lot more than I was expecting. Actually I thought we would be going out, but this is so much more...intimate, and sweet."

Sherlock smiled with a bit of pride as he brought over some water and drinks. "I'm glad you approve."

As he sat down you leaned in a little. "Can I ask though. What is the occasion? As it seems a bit..."

"Out of character?" He finished.

You shrugged your head "A little."

He cleared his throat lightly "I am aware that we have not been able to spend much time together recently. So I wanted to make up for that, and, I was made aware this morning that it is Valentines Day, so I thought, it would also be something we might, celebrate?"

"Valentines Day, I forgot about that." You chuckled "I suppose it is a good excuse to be a bit more romantic. And as for making up for anything there is no real need Sherlock. Yes, I did notice we have not been seeing that much of each other, but I do understand your work is very important, I hope you didn't think I had ill will towards you because of it?"

Sherlock smiled at this as he shook his head softly "No, I didn't. But I did have some towards myself. You're the best thing that has happened to me in a very long time, I don't wish to neglect that. I suppose I just wanted to make sure you knew that."

You smiled brightly at him and he felt his chest clench.

"I do know Sherlock."

"Good."

Adjusting himself as he patted his pocket, he cleared his throat again "There is something else, I got for you."

"A gift?" You asked with light surprise "You didn't have to get me anything Sherlock."

He smiled "I know. And it's more of a...request, than a gift."

Feeling a sudden nervousness wash over you, you swallowed "A request?"

Reaching into his pocket, you eyes darted from his hand to his face as your heart started to pound.

"I wasn't aware of just how much I wanted to ask you, until I saw this in a shop window."

Pulling out a small black box, your breath caught in your throat. You said nothing until you were sure what he was about to ask. You would hate to make a fool of yourself, only to be greeted with something else.

As he opened the lid of the small box, and your eyes landed on a ring, your chest tightened and your breath hitched.

"I thought it was very, you."

He was right. It was perfect.

"Sherlock..." You trailed off into a whisper.

Sherlock smiled softly "I love you Y/n. I adore you. And I don't think I could think of anything more perfect than spending my life with you."

"I- I never thought you were interested in marriage." You admitted, aware your eyes were becoming a little hazy.

"I didn't think I was either. Until you. And now I know, that I want nothing more than to marry you. Do you wish to marry me?"

You grinned as you nodded your head eagerly "Yes, I do Sherlock."

His smile widened as you replied. Taking the ring out, he took your hand and slid it onto your finger. It was a bit big, but he could get it resized quickly.

As your eyes locked, you got to your knees and leaned across the dinner setting. Sherlock leaned forward as well, as you placed your hands on his face. He cupped your cheek as you kissed.

Pulling away a few moments later Sherlock couldn't remove his eyes from you as you continued to have a smile plastered on your face. You admired the ring, and Sherlock could tell he chose it perfectly.

Pouring you a drink, he rose his own glass in the air "To us?"

You grinned as you lifted your glass and tapped it against his own "To us."

xx End xx

I think I like this? lol I'm not positive, but I hope you like it too.

Reblogs are always appreciated~ :)

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

Cavil!Sherlock Taglist: @will-grammer, @multifandomfix-recs, @readingbookelf, @writerfulltime,

Taglist Form

[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.

[typicalopposite]

Sooo… 😏😏

and as a gift I ask y’all to give me ideas for multi fandom oneshots for a series I want to make (Bedtime Stories) that’s fairytale aus :)

Y’all would make my day with this! My fandoms are…

Spn (Destiel)

OFMD (Gentlebeard)

Stranger Things (Steddie)

Good Omens (Ineffable Husbands)

Lucifer

Starsky and Hutch (Starsky/Hutch)

Dark Angel

The Witcher (Geraskier)

Sherlock Holmes (RDJ Movie and Enola Holmes) (JohnLock)