#enola 2

[bookloover35]

How to date a Holmes- Sherlock Holmes.

The flat at 221B Baker Street rarely saw a dull moment. Between Sherlock Holmes's eccentricities and your knack for keeping him on his toes, there was always a spark of life in the air. Married life with the great detective was never ordinary, which suited you just fine.

This morning, however, was quieter than usual. Sherlock was deep into a case, his sharp eyes darting over newspaper clippings and notes pinned to the walls, muttering to himself. You, his beloved wife, sat nearby with a cup of tea, watching his brilliance with equal parts admiration and amusement.

Your moment of peace was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was hurried, almost anxious. You set your tea down and rose, smoothing your dress before opening the door to find none other than Lord Tewkesbury, the Marquess of Basilwether, standing there.

"Lord Tewkesbury," you greeted, surprised. "What a pleasant surprise. Do come in."

He stepped inside, his usually confident demeanor tinged with hesitation. His mop of blond curls looked slightly disheveled, and he clutched a small bouquet of wildflowers.

"I hope I'm not intruding," he began, his voice low.

Sherlock didn't even glance up from his work. "Advice on how not to get yourself killed again? I'd suggest moving to the countryside and becoming a hermit."

"Sherlock," you chided, shooting your husband a look.

Tewkesbury flushed but straightened his posture. His tone turned determined as he turned to you and said, "I'm actually here to get advice from you, Mrs. Holmes."

That caught Sherlock's attention. He glanced up, his sharp gaze flicking from Tewkesbury to the bouquet. "Good grief. You're courting my sister?"

Tewkesbury's blush deepened, but a small smile tugged at his lips. "I'm... trying to. But she's—well, she's a Holmes. And I thought, who better to ask than someone who's successfully married one?"

Sherlock snorted, but you felt a surge of pride. You gestured for Tewkesbury to sit down.

"Enola?" Sherlock muttered, eyeing the flowers. "Of course. Only a Holmes would attract this level of reckless persistence."

"Don't mind him," you said gently. "Tell me, Lord Tewkesbury, what exactly do you need advice about?"

He exhaled, his nerves starting to show. "How to win her over. She's... remarkable, and I don't want to ruin my chances. She's clever, independent, and quite possibly the most fascinating person I've ever met. But I feel like... I don't know how to approach her in the right way."

"Ah," you said with a knowing smile. "You're right that Holmeses are unique. They value intelligence, independence, and a sharp wit. But more than that, they need someone who respects their individuality. Enola is no exception."

Tewkesbury nodded eagerly, hanging on your every word.

"Don't try to smother her," you continued. "She'll run circles around you if you try to control her. Instead, be her partner. Show her that you admire her strength, and don't be afraid to challenge her. Holmeses appreciate someone who can keep up with them."

"Challenge her?" he repeated, frowning slightly.

"Yes, but not in a condescending way," you clarified. "It's about mutual respect. Show her that you value her opinions, even if they differ from yours. And whatever you do, don't underestimate her."

Tewkesbury exhaled slowly, nodding again. "That... makes sense. She's truly extraordinary. I just don't want to mess it up."

Sherlock, who had been listening with a faint smirk, finally chimed in. "The fact that you care enough to seek advice is a good start. But if you hurt her, I'll make sure no one ever finds your body."

"Sherlock," you scolded, though you couldn't entirely suppress your amusement.

Tewkesbury's eyes widened, but he quickly rallied. "Understood. Completely."

You reached over to pat his hand reassuringly. "Don't let him scare you. You're doing fine, Tewkesbury. Just be yourself and let Enola know how you feel. She'll appreciate your honesty."

The young lord offered you a grateful smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Holmes. Truly. You've been very helpful."

As Tewkesbury stood to leave, Sherlock leaned back in his chair, watching him with narrowed eyes. "One last thing," he said. "If you're going to date a Holmes, you'll need to be prepared for danger. Our lives are anything but ordinary."

Tewkesbury squared his shoulders. "I'm not afraid of a little danger."

Sherlock smirked. "Good answer."

After Tewkesbury left, you turned to your husband with a raised eyebrow. "Was the death threat really necessary?"

Sherlock shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I have to protect my sister's interests."

You shook your head, laughing softly. "And here I thought you'd be glad she's found someone who adores her."

Sherlock's expression softened, and he reached for your hand. "I suppose I am. Though, to be fair, I still don't understand how you managed to put up with me."

"Easy," you replied, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I figured out the secret to dating a Holmes a long time ago."

"And what's that?"

You smiled mischievously. "Patience, wit, and a touch of madness."

Sherlock chuckled, pulling you into his arms. "Well, then, it seems Lord Tewkesbury has quite the challenge ahead of him."

And with that, life at 221B Baker Street carried on—full of love, mystery, and, of course, the occasional lesson on how to date a Holmes.

[dearfandomdiary]

Waiting on your husband

sherlock holmes x wife!reader

Wordcount: 617

Author's note: Well, my first sherlock imagine! It's short but i hope you enjoy! I have a second part in mind — regarding the morning after; what do y'all think? 👀🫰🏻

You have been waiting for Sherlock for a better part of 4 hours.

I will be home at 8 pm. Keep the dinner in the refrigerator, I will eat then. I promise, Y/N.

Those were his words. It was now almost 1 am. You were sitting in his armchair, a book in your hands. His scent was keeping you somewhat calm.

The moment he came home, you would tell him what you thought of such antics. Coming home later than promised, not even letting you know that it would be later than expected. You were worried sick. After all, you had agreed to many things. Be patient with him, not get involved in his cases — he simply wanted to protect you which you understood — but you never agreed to be lied to.

And then you heard it. Heavy steps, slurring of words. He was drunk.

Quickly, you stood and marched towards the entrance, opening the door. “Where have you been?!” you asked, your voice raised. Worry and something akin to anger coursed through your veins.

“Y/N!” he said, blue eyes wide as he stumbled towards you. He reeked of wine and cigar smoke which caused you to take a step back. “ ‘was busy on a case! Missed you!”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed him by his jacket lapels to bring him inside. “On a case? You are intoxicated, Sherlock.” you huffed.

He blinked once, twice, thrice. He let out a low hum, gathering his thoughts. “It was jus’ a … disagreement over wine. And whose wine it was.” A hiccup left his throat. “You know … after a glass of wine, I find it very hard to move my arms and legs.”

You scoffed. “A glass of wine?” you asked, clearly amused. But then you furrowed your brows. “How did you make it up the steps?"

He hummed again, his hands grabbing the edge of the table and your hip. “Dunno…walked. One should always walk after drinking. You should probably write that down.”

Sherlock swayed slightly and your hands tightened on his waist coat, keeping him steady. “Of course, darling.”

The touch to your hip made you shiver. Even the simplest touch calmed you, tamed your anger. You could be mad, uncontrollably angry but when Sherlock brushed his hand along your hip, brushed one of your y/h/c strands out of your face; it immediately calmed you down.

You made quick work of his jacket, brushing it down his arms and taking his scarf with him. As you hung both on the clothes rack he walked over to the chaise lounge. “Sherlock be care—” you began but he had already let himself fall on it. He let out a groan. You chuckled softly.

“Mhm…I love youu.” he said, shifting on the chaise lounge to get comfortable, beginning to fall asleep.

One of these days he is going to break his back, you thought as you grabbed the throw blanket from the armchair you had been sitting in.

“I love you too, Sherlock.” you said softly, tugging a curl behind his hair. Then you turned and took the candle to walk to your, normally shared, bedroom. There was no way you would be sleeping in the armchair or on the chaise lounge.

After all, you loved him. No matter what sort of idiotic and dangerous things he did, you’d love him and you knew he loved you. You had found your way into his heart after all but you wouldn't hurt your back or neck sleeping in old armchairs that were older than you.

In the morning, you two would talk and he would get a stern talking to. You were sure of that.

[ithebookhoarder]

En Garde (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)

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

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

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

Masterlist

“Now, try again-”

“-Sherlock-”

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

Oh, that was it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two could play this game. 

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

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

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

[nnon-it-up]

It's the way Sherlock kicking the sign outside the police station was marketed as him being frustrated about his case but in reality it was because he couldn't help his sister for me. This is Sherlock Holmes, notorious for having no emotions, who told his sister multiple times not to get emotional since it will not help them solve the case, who has been depicted as a heartless scarecrow for centuries, this same person is so overcome with frustration and anger and guilt that he couldn't take it and lashed out to kick an insignificant sign.

Sherlock has always placed his cases in a higher priority to everything else. But this time, this time his sister is arrested, bound for the noose so he squares up and asks the only person he believes can help - Edith. Sherlock hasn't met John yet. He's not a team player. But he reaches out for assistance because he has tried and he has failed and now his sister's life hangs in the balance.

And now for the real tearjerker: Sherlock figured out that Mira Troy/Moriaty's message leads to the match factoy, yet he doesn't arrive until Enola is out for prison and goes to investigate himself. Why? Why would he do that? He would've still had time after he went to Edith's for help yet he decided to go only after Enola escaped. The man finally realised that Human Lives are more important than Cases and then Enola sets up that appointment with Sherlock and John Watson

My point is that Sherlock is going to become more humane (and they're going to be sued by Arthur Conan Doyle's estate again)

[deadpoetsbakery]

lord tewkesbury is a precious plant dad who must be protected at all costs. (I almost lost it when enola visited and he just casually opened the door of his room when it’s literally a whole ass forest in there)

[ariadnethedragon]

Spreading Bellflower (Campanula patula): a symbol of gratitude, constancy, and romance.

ENOLA HOLMES 2 ━ 2022, dir. Harry Bradbeer

[carebooks]

I can’t wait for Enola Holmes 3 because I absolutely need a scene with Tewkesbury and the one and only Dr. John Watson make conversation and comment on the Holmes siblings they love very much just go into monologue and ramble as they unravel the mystery.

they’re such brilliant weirdos and they love them so very much

[clementineslawyer]

( 2nd movie ) Enola holmes icons