#enola x reader tickle

[blushyeleven]

(I tried to get this gif as milie being millie, but looking like enola holmes!)

Characters: ler!Millie lee!y/n

Warnings: tickled

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 (𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡)

you and millie sat cross legged on her bed, reading over the enola holmes 2 script. Yours and Millie’s shared favourite pass time and it meant you got to spend time with her. Which is an opportunity you could never pass up.

You were reading over the part we’re enola couldn’t figure out her latest case. Finding Sarah chapman. So she visited your apartment to complain about her day. You then jokingly insulted her detective skills to try and distract her. That’s when you saw it.

Enola reaches in to tickle *y/ns character*

Millie looks up form her script, smiling at you “I hope your not too ticklish” she teases seeing your face turn bright red. “Me? Ticklish? Ofcourse not! That’s so childish!” You said quickly, a little too quickly. Millie just giggled at you “yea, yea okay then” she rolled her eyes. You sheepishly smiled trying to mask your fear

It got to the day of shooting and you sat on a chair. Twiddling your thumbs, your nerves increasing. You knew there was no way out of this. It’s not that you were scared to be tickled, you were more scared of the fact that millie was finding out, infront of the whole crew. It couldn’t be that hard to hold in your laughter. You told you’re self, the thought looping in your mind. It was replaying in your head so much you didn’t even realise that millie was calling your name

“Y/n!.. helloooo?” She walked over to you slightly confused and that’s when you snapped out of your trance “oh yeah? Sorry!” You tried to play it off and millie just smiled at you “were up!” She said and you arose from your chair, timidly following her to the set.

Once you fixed yourself and took your places you heard “action!” And that’s when you heard a knock on your apartment door.

“Coming!” You shouted out trying to steady your already nervous voice, you opened the door and enola was standing there. “Enola?” You raised one eyebrow. “May I come in?“ Enola politely asked you “oh, ofcourse!” You reassured gesturing enola through. “Any particular reason why your here?” You said puzzled. “Yes actually, I just need a distraction from my case. It seems to be vexing me” she huffed, sitting herself down on your sofa. “Well did you want to talk about it?” You questioned sitting on the oppose sofa, meeting her gaze.

“It’s just so annoying! I really don’t know what I’m missing! And Sherlock keeps rambling to me about how I’m not solving this case properly” Yes, this is my first case but I still think that I am a good enough detective to solve this case without sherlocks help!” She rambled. You looked at millie, amazed by her acting skills.

“Well it seems like your infamous detectives skills are failing you” you smirked at millie. She gasped “take that back!” She playfully fired back at you. It were scenes like this that made you realise how deeply Inlove with millie you really were. “Why should I?” You snarkily replied seeing Millie’s jaw dropped and her eyes slightly raised “Because otherwise I’ll just do this!” You smiled trying to calm yourself but you knew either way, this was not going to turn out well.

On “this” millie pounced on you and started scribbling at your sides. That’s when you let out a loud, high-pitched squeak, followed by a flourish of bubbly giggles, pouring out of your mouth. That wasn’t acting, it was an 100% pure reaction. Millie stopped as her jaw dropped again, but you could tell behind her shocked face she was smiling so hard. And that’s when you heard “cut!!”

“Oh my god! I wasn’t expecting you to be that ticklish!, that’s adorable” she said. That’s when you felt a little heat rise to your face, turning your cheeks rather pink. “I- shut up, you startled me. Let’s try that again” you said adverting Millie’s eyes, clearly embarrassed. Millie just giggled “awh ofcourse!” She said, getting off you and sitting back opposite you.

Once your vibrant blush faded, you mentally prepared yourself.

“And action!”

“Maybe your infamous detective skills are failing you” you repeated gulping after you finished the line. “Take that back!” Enola gasped “why should I?” You said through a slightly shaky voice. “Because otherwise I’ll just do this!” Enola exclaimed. you bit your lip as millie jumped on you once again, scribbling at your sides. “ehehehnohoholaaa!” You managed to giggle, not overflowing with laughter to much. Well.. that was untill a certain someone’s fingertips reached your stomach. “What! You basically asked for this!” She added before your eyes widened. A genuine reaction before desperately trying to swallow your screams of laughter you had bubbling in your throat. “NahahhaHAAHA NOHOHT THEHERE!” At first your giggles were controlled, but then they all spewed out. You looked up to see millie biting her own lip, trying not to smile at your reaction

“Ahaw I behet you regret mohocking me now!” Millie delivered her line filled with snickers, she couldn’t keep a straight face at your overdramatic reactions. “YEHES, IHIM SOHORRY!” You shrieked when she started scratching at your ribs. “I know you are!” Enola teased, watching your character squirm beneath her.

“But.. this is just to fun to stop!” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. That wasn’t one of Millie’s lines. However, your thought process was interrupted when you felt a fingertip, swirling into your bellybutton. You squealed before falling into helpless, thundering laughter

“NOHOHOOHOHO MIHIHIIHLIEEE! CUHUHUHUTTT! CUHHUHUHUHUTTT! GAHAHHAHAH!” You screamed, expecting millie to stop right there. But to your suprise she didn’t, the crew just stood there watching. “BAHAHAHAHHA IHIHIHIM SEHEHEHHERIOUSSS GEHEHHEHETT OHOHOHOFF!!” Your laughter echoed through the set. That’s when millie stopped, she pulled her hands away and couldn’t help but smirk at you.

“I said cut!” You said glaring and millie and at the crew “that wasn’t even apart of the scene!” You questioned.

“Actually, we stopped recording for that scene a while ago. This was just an extra thing millie wanted to add. Atleast we have an amazing addition to the blooper real!” One director joked

You death stared millie “something extra you wanted to add?” You scrunched your eyebrows and then gasped “you planned this!“ you complained. That’s when millie burst out into laughter, nodding at your statement.

You couldn’t help but smile. Although you thought that was extremely embarrassing, you couldn’t deny that you had fun

[veryblushyswitch]

hey! Just a quick one! <3

I was wondering if you were able to do enola holmes x reader relationshio tkl headcannons?

sorry if your to busy/requests aren’t open and if they are ignore this ask<3

Sorry I forgot I had this ask in my drafts!! I’ll work on these as soon as I rewatch the first one and finally watch the second because I’ve been wanting to watch it! 💖 I’ll definitely add this to the list of relationship/tickle hcs. ☺️

[gotnofucks]

What’s Your Escape

Pairing: dark!Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: Sherlock could never resist a mystery, especially not one as deliciously wrapped as you.

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, smut, harassment, jealousy, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Spoilers for Enola Holmes

MASTERLIST

+++++

It was your duty to make sure that the young miss could escape quietly. You put extra padding on her shoes and made sure the mud outside the window was spongy. She would need something strong and long to climb down from here, so you sew together a few old curtains to make a rope and put them in the chest in her room. If she follows the plan, she will leave, and none will be the wiser. You hoped she would make it back before noon, or you’d have to answer the masters of the house why their sister was missing.

You liked living here before the brothers returned. Things used to be fun at the Holmes ancestral manor before Mycroft and Sherlock returned after their mother’s disappearance. You would have thought they will leave after bringing back Enola under their roof, but they seemed to have reconnected with their roots and to your displeasure stayed.

Eudoria Holmes had hired you as a second housekeeper after Mrs. Lane started getting up in the years. Or well, that’s the story she told everyone else. Eudoria had rescued you from a life of abject poverty, brought you to her estate and given you a roof and work. She saw in you a fire that she claimed would light the way for many women to come. You had trained with Enola since childhood under her mother’s direction, but you were more mentally skilled. While Enola could jujitsu her way out of a situation, you could read a person, manipulate them into letting you go. Together, you both made the best team.

Everything changed when Eudoria disappeared. You knew one of you had to stay here to keep an eye on the Holmes brothers, so you helped Enola escape while you stayed. You didn’t think anyone would suspect you had a hand in her daring getaway, but then you hadn’t met Sherlock Holmes before. Since the morning Enola was missing, his eyes followed you like a bloodhound’s to meat. You could feel them, the weight of his gaze heavy on you. If you would look up and catch him, he would get an irritable look on his face, like he’s stuck trying to undo a knot for a while.

You were glad when he left the Holmes Manor for London to search for his sister soon enough. His looks made you antsy and you had to bite your tongue on various occasions to set him straight. For years you had lived unrestrained with Eudoria, and suddenly being thrust back into your duties as a housekeeper proved to be more difficult than ever. More so now that Enola was back as Sherlock’s ward.

Things could have gone back to normal for it seemed Sherlock was more liberal than Mycroft when it came to their sister. Yet, he was a man of society. Intelligent as he may think her to be, he was still of the mind that she must marry a suitable gentleman, after which she could frolic wherever she wished. It fell on you to help Enola escape the Manor, to go away for a few precious hours at night to spread her wings and breath freely. You’d been doing so for nearly a month and every night your exploits had gone without a hitch.

You’d just seen her down the curtain rope, waving to her from the window as she climbed atop her bicycle and rode away into the dark. You sighed, wishing you could perhaps go too. But you owed a great debt to both the Holmes woman, and you would continue to serve them as long as they would desire.

“Would you like me to help you climb down?” Said a voice behind you and you turned suddenly, clutching the windowsill to support yourself. Sherlock leaned against the doorframe, his curls slightly mussed.

“Mr. Holmes” You breathed, heart hammering unevenly in your chest. Your first thought was that your secret was out, and Enola would be made to marry a stupid man while you’ll be thrown on the streets. He walked languidly towards you, wearing a robe that stretched over his bulky frame. For a man so huge, he carried himself with a lot of grace. Stopping a few feet from you, his eyes followed the rope that dangled out the window and a smile tugged at his lips.

“I’d wondered why she looked so tired every day, and why you spent so much time doing her laundry. The mud must be difficult to get off, hmm?” He asked, his hand pulling out his pipe from his pocket that he deftly lit and popped in his mouth.

You didn’t answer him, watching him, deciphering him. He was a mystery to you because he was so open. Unlike others he didn’t wear a mask of polite diplomacy, his disdain for things was expressed in no uncertain terms and he rarely bothered hiding his true thoughts. While you could outsmart a liar, talk a stupid person into doing what you want without them realizing, you had a hard time reading Sherlock Holmes. He had little need to lie unless it was for a case and he was certainly not stupid.

He stared at you for a long time, smoke drifting from his pipe while you refused to cower under his gaze. His lips twitched in amusement, eyes raking over your form before finding yours and he took a step forward.

“You are good at hiding I must say. Almost perfect in fact, but these eyes, they give you away. Your tongue drips with honey while your eyes burn with fire and ice. If someone knows where to look, your game will be over before it begins.”

“And what are you looking for Mr. Holmes?” You asked.

He set his pipe down before coming close enough to brush his front against yours. You stiffened slightly, feeling his hand going around your waist.

“I’m looking for a reason.” He whispered, his hand catching hold of the rope behind you as he started pulling. You stayed between him and the window ledge, staring into his eyes, his knuckles grazing your back occasionally until he pulled in the entire rope. Letting it fall on the ground, he almost bumped into you when he leaned forward to shut the windowpanes behind you. His breath was on your face and you resisted the urge to dash away from him.

“You need to leave” You said at last. Sherlock shook his head, arms resting on either side of you now. He breathed deeply, taking you in. His blue eyes, one with the slightest tinge of brown gleamed at you. Only a faint light came from the candlestand in the corner now that the windows were closed, and you saw reflected in his eyes an emotion you were entirely unfamiliar with. Desire.

He leaned forward, his one errant curl tickling your forehead and you felt his breath on your mouth. Your hands shot out, pushing against his chest.

“Leave, now.” You said, sharp and commanding.

“Make me”

You gulped, the intimacy of a man not something you were used to. He was too large to even think of physically getting away. You must, like he said, make him go away.

“I can’t get you to leave, but if you stand at the end of the hall, I can convince you to come to me.”

His eyes lit with intrigue, a most sensual smile tugging at his lips. You were doing what he loved the most. Playing a game.

“And what if you cannot?” He asked. You met his eyes head on, not an ounce of fear in yours.

“Then you can have what you so clearly want.”

You could almost call his grin boyish, an excitement taking over his features as he finally pushed away from you. He cocked his head at you, appraising you as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He nodded, turned around and walked out of the door and stood at the end of the hall. He spread his arms as if to say, your move.

Your feet carried you across the room, measured stride that gave away nothing.

“I think the deal was for you to make me come to you.” Sherlock remarked as he saw you walking forward.

“It is” You stated before quickly taking hold of the door and pulling it shut. You had a brief glimpse of the shock on his face, then heard his feet thundering as he ran towards you but by then you had locked the door and rested against it.

His fists hit the wood and for a moment you were convinced he would break it down. But then you heard his chuckle, like he was proud to have been played as such.

“I’ll come back for you” He said aloud, and his feet retreated while you sank down on the floor. Your heart was loud in your ears and hands slightly trembling. Maybe its time you brushed up on your jujitsu.

+++++

Sherlock let Enola leave every night, giving no impression he knew what she was up to during the day. She was far too happy (and sleepy) to give it much thought and the days went by as normal. Or well, maybe not for you.

If you thought he was looking at you before, it was nothing as compared to now. He was everywhere, watching you from the corners when you cooked and cleaned. You were glad for other people’s presence in the Manor, for you feared being alone with him. Each night, the moment Enola climbed down you would shut the door to her room, sleeping there. You couldn’t risk making the journey across to your own chambers. That was a risk you weren’t willing to take.

“Mr. Kennedy would be over for dinner tonight. Make the necessary arrangements” Mycroft told you at breakfast. You nodded, dreading the extra hours of cooking you’ll have to do. Thank god Mrs. Lane was still well enough to bear most of the burden. Sherlock’s eyes as usual were on you and you wondered how no one noticed.

“Do you still have mother’s favorite infusion?” He asked you and you nodded. Eudoria will not be happy with them taking liberties with her stuff, but you weren’t about to argue. “Get me some, please.”

“Of course, Mr. Holmes” You sped away, grateful to be away from his company. You always loved the storeroom where Eudoria kept her infusions. A sweet smell of herbs along with polish permeated the air and it warmed you from within. You tinkered with the numerous jars that littered the shelves, dust coating them for they haven’t been touched in months. You were rummaging in one of the upper shelves when you heard the door behind you shut and you turned to see Sherlock turning the key to lock it.

“Are you done running away from me?” He asked, putting the key in his jacket. The room was just a small storeroom, crammed with different knickknacks everywhere. Sherlock’s body seemed to take all the space in the room, and you felt claustrophobic. He only needed to take another step to close the distance between you and you stumbled into the shelf behind you, jars clinking against each other.

“What do you want?” You asked, feeling both irritated and anxious.

“You’re smart enough to figure that out by now.” He said and took that step forward, bringing you chest to chest. You wished you’d worn a corset which would have provided an extra layer of protection. All your training with Eudoria had not prepared you for her son. He smelled like the pipe he smoked and the rich musk of ink and parchment. You tried not to breath too deeply.

“Mr. Holmes, this is most inappropriate.” You chided and he breathed out a laugh. His face neared yours and his eyes held yours in a way that you couldn’t look away if you wanted to.

“You intrigue me like no other. The restraint you have…You’re a burning match and I keep creeping closer and though you threaten to burn me you’d much rather smother your flame. Why?”

His words heated you, a tingling starting in your belly as you shook from the force of him. His finger raised slowly, very slowly to your cheek and you turned your face right before he could touch.

“How will you get out this time? What’s your escape?”

He was so smug and amused you very nearly growled at him. Your eyes took in the room, trying to see how you can get out of here. He was blocking the only exit with the key in his jacket. As established previously, physically fighting him was not an option. You thought about it and finally turned to look at him.

“I propose a challenge” You said, and he grinned like it was just what he was waiting for. “You hide that key anywhere in this room while I shut my eyes. If I find it, you let me leave.”

He leaned even closer, close enough for his nose to graze your head.

“And what if you don’t?”

“Then you can have what you so clearly want.”

He pulled back and produced a handkerchief from his pocket that he offered to tie on your eyes. You took it and did it yourself. You’d rather he not touch you at all. You could hear the shuffling of his feat, slight movements to your left and then the clinking sound of metal hitting an object. He gave you the go ahead and you took off the blindfold.

You looked around carefully, examining every surface and box and jar. Your keen eyes judging what was moved from its position. One glass jar to the far right caught your eye and you almost went to pick it up before you stopped. You titled your head, looking at Sherlock who seemed to be observing you most intently. To his surprise, you stepped towards him and placed a hand on his chest, moving it until you reached the pocket in the inner lining of his jacket and found the key.

His eyes were wide, both aroused and impressed.

“How?” He asked and you smiled a little at his fascination.

“I almost went for the jar, that was the only one with fingerprints marking the dust layer. But then I noticed your jacket which had dust stain too. You dropped the key in there but put it back in your pocket, not wiping your dusty hands.” You explained.

His arms caged you before you could blink, holding your body to his and mouth at your ear.

“No, you said you’d let me leave!” You protested. His warmth was seeping inside you, smell overpowering your nostrils and you pushed.

“I have never wanted a woman more in my life. I’ll let you leave, but only because I know I will have you. Go now before I am tempted more than ever.” He released you and you unlocked the door, stumbling outside and running away without looking back.

+++++

Two months, that’s how long you held him off with the power of your brain alone. He would corner you and you would play a game of wits. Every time you had escaped, sometimes narrowly, but it all changed this night.

You didn’t know what was happening until Sherlock almost drove his fork into the tabletop. He was positively seething, eyes glaring at Mycroft’s colleague who was over for dinner. It was not until he turned those eyes on you did you understand what had him on edge. Mr. Shephardson had referred to you as ‘my dear’ and ‘sweet girl’ multiple times now, and with each new endearment Sherlock’s fist clenched harder until you worried he’ll dig his fingers in his own palm.

You shrugged away his glare and continued serving, smiling at the man old enough to be your father. It was not like you cloud go, just turn away and leave, it was your job to be kind and serve the guests. It was one of the longest dinners of your life, one that left you utterly uncomfortable and confused. The guests departed and you were left alone to clean the table. You had just started stacking the plates together when Sherlock marched towards you, a frown marring his handsome face.

“Ten minutes, my room. Don’t make me drag you” He warned and went away as quickly as he had come. You shivered slightly and moved your hands faster, collecting the dishes, and putting them in the kitchen for a wash. You had no idea what he wanted, but he was angry enough that you wouldn’t push his boundaries. You wiped the table next, legs jittery as you knew time was running out. Finally, you rearranged the chairs and put away your apron before climbing the stairs to make you way towards Sherlock’s room. You were halfway up when he came thundering down himself, almost colliding with you.

“I was just –” You started speaking but he cut you off by lifting you in his arms and making his way up. You bounced in his arms as he climbed the steps, his jaw clenched in anger.

“I told you I’ll drag you myself if you don’t make it on time.” He snarled and you were too shocked to make a noise until you were in his rooms and the door was shut and locked behind you. You had to admit you were afraid of him then, his chest heaving in anger as a vein pulsed in his temple. He stalked towards you, removing his jacket as he came and you nervously moved back.

“Mr. Holmes please –”

He cut you off again, voice sharp and so commanding your knees knocked together.

“Say my name. Now”

You gaped at him, unsure what was happening. Here you thought it would be another tedious game between you two, but the mischievous glint had disappeared from his eyes. They were dark like a thundering sky, boiling over with rolling clouds.

“Say my fucking name now!”

“Sherlock!” You yelped, your eyes wildly looking for a way out. He was not himself. This is not the man you wanted to be left alone with for even a minute. But he had different ideas and he crowded you against the wall, assuming his favorite position in front of you with his arms acting as a cage.

“Say it again.” He ordered right in your face, voice dark and slow.

“Sherlock” You whispered and saw some of his anger leave him. One of his hands reach out to tangle in your hair and pulled you forward, your lips a hairsbreadth away from his when you started struggling. “No, no Sherlock. Please don’t” you pleaded.

He was so close you could make out every detail of his face, you could taste his breath on your tongue.

“You had a jolly time smiling at that man tonight, yes?” He seethed and you shook your head. You didn’t know he’d get so angry and jealous.

“It is my job” You argued and his arm tightened around you, squeezing until you were sure you’d be bruised tomorrow.

“I am your job!” He said and pushed away from you. “Name your challenge. Tell me how you’ll escape from me today.”

From the look on his face, you didn’t think he’d let you leave anywhere. Your eyes shifted from one place to another, wondering what you could do to get away from here. Fear permeated the air, making you lightheaded. You finally spotted his small safe hidden in the corner of the room.

“If I can open that safe you let me leave.”

“And if you don’t?”

You gulped audibly before answering. It was a question frequently asked and just as frequently answered.

“Then you can have what you so clearly want”

He smiled a satisfactory smile, moving away to sit on his bed. You forced your legs to move, inspecting every inch of the safe. It was small in size, golden in colour and had a very distinctive keyhole. You surmised that the key must also be golden, small going by the size of the safe and if you looked at the keyhole carefully, it must be sleek too to fit inside.

You made a mental tally of where he could keep the key in the room. But before that, you thought about what Sherlock Holmes would keep in a safe. It must be very valuable going by how expensive the safe itself looked, and if it were valuable then he would not just leave the key laying around in his room. He had only just returned to the manor after a long absence, things had changed behind him. He was once again living with his brother who he hardly trusted. There was only one logical place he would keep the key then.

“Please stand up” You said to him and he did, coming to stand before you. You tried not to look in his eyes as you scanned his body, thinking where he might have put the key because you were sure it was on his person. He had removed his jacket, leaving him in his shirt and pants. You took in every part of him and finally plucked the pen from his pocket. On its cap was a golden clip that you broke away and took with triumph towards the safe.

You inserted the clip into the keyhole, and it entered smoothly and your grin widened. You threw a smug look at Sherlock over your shoulder and turned it, but it didn’t move. Frowning, you put more force into it and tried to turn it. It stayed stuck.

His laughter made you freeze, and you let the clip fall from your hands. You faced him ashen faced, eyes wide and fearful. He took his time coming to you, victory sparking in his eyes. You corrected your posture, hoping you have wiped away every ounce of fear from your face. You weren’t about to let him gloat over you.

“I’ve told you before, you can hide very well but your eyes are your undoing. You can’t hide your heart from me when it shines so bright from behind your eyes.”

His hand took yours and slowly slid it down his chest until it rested on his buckle.

“Right before your eyes, had you been daring enough to see.” He said and you saw on his belt buckle a golden key. You looked at him and saw heat in his eyes, heat and desire that scared you more than anything. You left behind your rational thinking and made a run for it, rattling his door before he came behind you and hauled you up by your waist, throwing your body on his bed.

“You can’t break the rules of the game. When you won, I let you leave, now that I won, I’ll take what I want.”

He climbed over you, straddling your lower half as his hands sank in your hair and finally pulled you into a kiss. His lips folded over yours, kneading yours gently before his tongue probed inside to taste you. You wiggled in his hold, his passion burning you as you tried to come to terms with the situation. He was not brutal in his ministrations and coaxed a response from you, your lips moving against his on their own. You let out a soft moan, which made him sag against you.

“I’ve waited so long to have you, to have you burn me in your fire. Tell me why, for I can’t figure it out. Tell me why you suppress the storm that I know howls inside you.”

His eyes were open, urging you to talk about a part of you that you buried under layers. His let his fingers massage your head, and you sobbed. Even pinned under him, held down with his weight, his words were heavier to bear. He wanted a reason. Your reason. Right now, in the position you were in, with your heart thumping away in your chest, you couldn’t keep it in.

“If I go out to live my life, your sister can’t live hers. I owe everything to her and Eudoria, and if I have to sacrifice all my dreams to make hers come true, I’ll do it over and over again.”

His lips were on yours before you were even done, hands working to rid you of your dress. You resisted, a protest on your tongue.

“Please, don’t. I can’t, not this way.” You beg and he pulls away but only to discard his own shirt.

“I will not wait any longer. I will make you mine, I’ll have you tonight. No questions asked.”

How he managed to remove the dress from your squirming body you didn’t know but you lay before him more exposed than any man or even woman had ever seen you. Parts of you hidden under layers of cloth for years had become bare before his gaze and he revered them with his hands and mouth. Your back arched once his mouth sucked on your nipple, causing a deep heat to pool between your thighs. You squeezed your legs closed but he pried them apart, his already huge body looking ginormous as he nestled between them.

“I am going to taste you and I will claim you. It will happen, no matter what.”

He made good on his promise, bringing you incomprehensible pleasure with his tongue on your most sensitive region, making slurping noises that could make a street woman blush. You don’t remember when you ceased struggling, when your hands pulled instead of pushed. You panted for him, ached for him.

When he entered you, it was a pain the likes of which you had never experienced before. The stretch was uncomfortable, your legs trembling as you cried. Sherlock shushed you, promising it will be better soon. With every thrust the pain lessened and when he started teasing the nub between your legs you finally moved past the pain to focus on the pleasure. You were sobbing in need, begging him for something you didn’t even know what. He knew. He saw in your eyes what your mouth couldn’t say and gave you what your body desired.

You shattered below him, falling apart in a million pieces and he gathered you back into his arms, putting you together one kiss at a time. He was nearing his limit, hips pumping into you and your eyes rolled.

“After tonight, no more escaping. You’ll be mine, completely.” He vowed and you felt the warmth of his seed fill you. You lay beneath him, sweaty and battered, tear stained face anguished at what just happened.

Sherlock pressed kisses along your throat and chest, marking you.

“You never have to smother your flames from now one. You can burn as bright as you want, you can soar as high as you want. I will make all your dreams come true. You won’t just be a housekeeper. You’ll be the mistress of this Manor. I’m going to keep you, forever.”

+++++

 taglist :

@shooting-star-love @what-is-your-wish @stanmysoul @sweeterthanthis

[inknopewetrust]

interruptions (Henry!Sherlock x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Reader and Sherlock can never get a moment to themselves, especially when Enola and Mycroft are in the house.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Female Reader (Enola Holmes)

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Light smut, some language, mostly second hand embarrassment.

A/N: this is like not good at all but i wanted to write it so here we are i guess lol. (gif not mine but the scene definitely influenced this)  

“So if you sink the black and white one, the game is over?”

“Yes, but only if you sink it before you’ve finished shooting and scoring on the other object balls.”

Sherlock moved around the pool table in one of the many studies in his childhood home to angle himself just right to shoot the cue. Although he was playing no one, he wanted the shots to all be perfect.

On the other side on the pool table, you sat in a chair in front of the fireplace with a book in your hands. You weren’t really reading any of the words on the page because your mind was elsewhere. It was instead very much occupied with thoughts of the man just a few feet beyond your own spot, concentrating on the game rather than you. 

“And how many do you have left?” You asked him, not looking at him because pool wasn’t the least bit interesting to you.

“Five plus the eight.” He responded and the room sounded with two balls colliding and one falling into the leather pocket.

“Four plus the eight.” He corrected then and you closed the book just enough so one of your fingers was holding the page you were on. You turned in the chair, facing him as he stood directly across from you on the other side of the table with his pool stick next to him firmly planted on the ground. 

“Why?” He inquired as soon as his eyes met yours and he couldn’t help but see a mischievous twinkle in your own. 

“No particular reason. Though, I do recognize that it is greatly passed supper and I would like to eat before I go to bed.” 

Sherlock nodded at you and picked up the stick, ready to shoot another when you closed the book fully. The rough snapping of the pages together drew his eyes up to you in the chair and the lightest smile was gracing your face. 

“And?” He asked and you shrugged, raising an arm to rest on the armrest of the chair and letting your fingers sweep the skin under your chin briefly before moving your index finger to your lip. You watched his eyes follow your finger as it ran across your bottom lip and then you bit down on it lightly, smiling at him as the pool game was now far from his mind. 

“More like or.” You continued but stood up from the chair, walking slowly to one side of the pool table and leaned up against it, putting the book down on the velvet that lined it and intentionally in front of the ball he was attempting to sink. 

“Or we could just go straight to bed?” You proposed and an eyebrow propped itself up on your face. You hoped that he was receiving the signal but Sherlock was a smart man, it’s not something he would have missed in a million years.

Sherlock hummed to himself and looked as if he was still studying the game in front of him as he rounded the table and stood just to the side of you. You looked expectantly and perhaps the only answer you needed was the way his eyes went from your own to your lips and then trailed down the rest of you. Sherlock put the pool stick against the bookcase and trapped you against the table, his hands grasping the green velvet bumpers but his hands were not far from your body. He teased the fabric of your dress with his thumbs and he bit down on his bottom lip.  

He his eyes were telling of how he felt even if he didn’t say it out loud. You were a bold and he knew what you wanted because he wanted it to, but being in the house with a snobbish brother and a sleuth of a sister, intimate moments lacked greatly since your arrival two weeks ago. 

“Or-” Sherlock proposed and you couldn’t help but let your hands run up his arms and move to fiddle with the top button of his brown patterned vest. 

“I could be so tempted to take you here now and then we can get supper afterwards?” He let you guide him down by the vest, just close enough where his lips were hovering over your own and the curled piece of hair that always becomes undone tickled your forehead. 

“Your choice, Holmes.” You spoke softly and he took the opportunity then and there to capture your lips with his down, grabbing at the fabric of your dress to hoist you up on the pool table. Your legs spread out so he could stand flush against you, his hands no longer gripping the bumpers but one on your waist and the other held the back of your neck. 

Sherlock’s kiss was searing and passionate, riddled with a need for you as it quickly grew within him. Your hand yanked at the bowtie and let it fall to the floor. Sherlock broke the kiss and his lips moved from your cheek to your ear and his hot breath was agonizing as he pulled you against him again with a groan as you ground your core against him. 

“If Enola or-” 

“They won’t. Stop worrying so much.” You breathlessly muttered back and Sherlock moved his hands to grip your thighs that were just hanging off the table, moving the dress, bunching it upwards so he could feel you, not all the fabric of the dress. 

You gave up on the fastened shirt buttons when they simply wouldn’t budge as easy as his vest had and placed your hands on his. With your help, you guided his hands under the dress and along your legs to where you needed him most. Your lips found Sherlock’s again and his tongue fought for dominance against your own and he let out a muffled moan when your hands left his and palmed his growing member. 

You rubbed him over his pants and his forehead rested against your own. One of his hands moved gripped at your thigh tightly, bruising in tension and he let out a lowly chuckle. 

“If you keep doing that, dinner won’t be on the table later.” 

“If I knew this is all it would take for you to fuck me I wouldn’t have waited all day.” You smirked at him and he slowly untied the corset you were wearing, letting you breathe better as your heart was already racing out of your chest. 

“Just fuck me already, Sherlock.” You whimpered impatiently as he tossed the corset aside and you undid his trousers. He kissed your neck and down to dip in the dress you were wearing, paying attention to every piece of skin he could find. 

“Why are you in such a rush? They are in bed and Stop worrying so much.” You could have slapped him for using your words against you but your mind was too occupied with the man against you and the situation at hand. 

Sherlock moved his hand under your chin and held it for a moment, looking in your eyes and taking in the disheveled woman in front of him, entirely need for him and what he could give her. He placed a kiss on your forehead before slowly meeting his lips with your own once more, but not in a passionate, needy way. He was slow and romantic, and he took all the time in the world with you as he would any one of his famous cases. 

He could sense the restlessness and want returning quickly, but before he could fully remove any of the dress to enter you, a shriek sounded from the doorway and the both of you froze like statues. Your back was to the intruder and Sherlock’s eyes went wide in shock, that yes, in fact you both have been walked in on. 

“Oh my God.” You could hear the horrified voice of Enola in the doorway and Sherlock’s head turned quickly to her with a mortified look on his face. Enola couldn’t even meet his eyes after walking in on her brother and you in a very compromising position and both not proper at all. Enola was not the least bit of a proper young lady, but this was something she never wanted to see. 

“Enola!” Sherlock managed to say in a slightly scolding manner but the girl ran off before either of you could try and salvage the situation but the mood had quickly shifted. 

You couldn’t recall if it was five seconds or five minutes before the both of you tried to fix yourselves, putting everything back into a proper place and forget what happened but her shriek had woken up Mycroft and as Sherlock helped you re-tie the corset he had taken off moments ago, Mycroft appeared in the doorway with a look of disgust. 

“Oh you are kidding me!” He looked absolutely dumbfounded and as you braced yourself against the pool table, Sherlock tying as quickly as possible to get away from the prying eyes and the judgmental stare of his brother. 

“Does presentation mean anything to you? We are trying to help her become a lady and you two, you two- do this!?” Mycroft yelled and he looked utterly ridiculous in his slippers and robe with his hands on his hips. 

“I-We thought everyone was asleep.” Sherlock replied. You felt his hands at the bottom of the corset, signaling he was done with the ties and you ran a hand over your dress, smoothing it out and looking Mycroft in the eye. 

“Being intimate with someone doesn’t make you less of a lady, Mycroft. Perhaps if you had sex with someone you would know that.” You huffed and walked out, passing him as he almost jolted in the opposite direction of you and into the hallway. 

“You’re just going to let her talk to me like that? She isn’t even your wife! Do you like harlots now or have you always been this way?” 

Sherlock cocked his head to the side and squinted his eyes at Mycroft. He walked slowly up to him and managed to tower over him enough to where Mycroft was intimidated by his brother. 

“Call her that again and I won’t stop her from beating you to a pulp the next time she sees your face. She may not be my wife now but one day she will be and I am not going to let you intimidate her with your weasel words, brother.” Sherlock spat at him and left the room as well, finding you waiting for him in the dimmed hall. He took your hand in his and as you walked throughout the house and just down the hall to the bedchamber of Enola, you couldn’t have been more proud of him for standing up to his brother. The two of you knew you had to talk to her otherwise it would be entirely too uncomfortable to even stay in the house. 

Standing outside of Enola’s door, you looked at Sherlock with an apologetic look and he shook his head at you. 

“We didn’t know she wasn’t asleep, it’s no one’s fault.” He reassured you and squeezed your hand before knocking on Enola’s door and opening it slightly. 

“Enola?” 

“Go away.” She mumbled from her window bay and refused to look at Sherlock or you as  you entered the room fully and kept your distance.

“Enola, I want to apologize. We didn’t know you were-” Sherlock began and Enola turned her head quickly, her eyes angry and judge-y. 

“You couldn’t just wait until you were in the proper place? My brain will NEVER be able to unsee that! I don’t care what you do on your free time but please don’t ever, ever do that in public.” Enola pleaded with her brother and Sherlock nodded but you stifled a laugh at her horror. She was a girl, she had never loved someone before so for her this was horrifying but for you and Sherlock it was mortifying. 

“We certainly didn’t want to see you either, Enola.” You told her and she shook her head and got up, walking over to her bed and crawling under the covers. 

“Just don’t do it again and do not mention it at breakfast tomorrow.” Enola was adamant about it and bid the two goodnight, pulling the sheet over her head and trying to think of everything but her favorite brother having sex. 

When the sun rose the next morning and Enola found herself at the table alone. With no one to eat with, she reminded herself that she had no desire to go searching for her siblings to get them to eat with her. She was just beginning to dig into her scone when Mycroft came down the stairs and sat down at the head of the table. He didn’t say a word but looked like he hadn’t slept a wink last night. Enola thought if she said one word to him that he would fly off the handle and she would have been right if she tried. 

She finished the scone and moved on to her eggs when she saw you and Sherlock walk down the stairs, not dressed in day clothes but still in pajamas, and entered the kitchen. Mycroft glanced up and dropped his toast when he saw you wearing Sherlock’s silk robe and Sherlock not in a suit. The two of you bustled about in the kitchen, filling plates with food and Sherlock grabbed two cups of tea, turning to look at Mycroft who was already staring. 

“Don’t worry brother, we know our actions are not wanted at the table, so we are going to have breakfast in bed.” Sherlock gave Mycroft a toothy smile and you managed to glance at Enola when you picked up the two plates and gave her a sly smile. Sherlock nudged your shoulder and you looked him, his eyes creased on the edges in happiness and motioned for the door. 

“Also, don’t bother coming to fetch us today, the door will be locked.” Sherlock ushered you out of the kitchen and the two of you couldn’t suppress the laughter that built up after the look on Mycroft’s face dropped. 

That day was a good day and eventually, after Enola had grown up a bit more and discovered her love for the Tewkesberry lad, she understood the looks her brother would give you and would eventually just leave the room if she ever saw them again, not wanting to ever be in that situation again.