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tulipsforvin · 2 days

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Hiii, how are you? I love your writing sm, especially your Mycroft fics. I didn’t even like his character that much until I read your fanfics about him ^^

So can I request a jealous Mycroft Holmes x trophy wife reader? Something similar to your last post or maybe a continuation?

Thanks sm <3

✦ YOU BELONG TO ME ‧₊˚✩彡

🌷: HII im good :) thnx sm for the kind words !! have a nice day/night

🌷: F!TROPHY WIFE READER x JEALOUS MYCROFT HOLMES

⚠️: such a cliché 🙏, somewhat suggestive at the end.

surely this was to be expected; you were in no way lacking. the attention your beauty and elegance brought with you was only one of the many implications that came with marrying you. he could handle it, couldn't he? surely he could. you were his trophy wife, an accessory to be shown at the best.

but that position didn't quite please you. no no, you wanted more. you wanted all of him, him and his affections, every bit of his attention. you wanted to be more than just a mere prize to him. which is why..

“right! and then he said—” music & loud voices dipped in cheery laughter blur into the background.

watching yet another group of men group you crowd you for the umpteenth time this night—something began to rise within him. anger, frustration, disgust.. he wasn't sure what it exactly was. perhaps a mixture of them all. all he knew was that it made his stomach feel hollow, his chest burn with something foreign and bile crawl up to his throat.

you high five a nobleman. that noble looks too happy over mere skin contact. the muscle under his eye twitches slightly. ‘really?’ he wishes to say out loud. he's the one who brought you here. you're his wife.

“..mr. holmes.”

“mr. holmes.”

“mr. mycroft holmes.”

mycroft snaps out of his thoughts. “ah.” he blinks. his dark eyes smoothly shift back to the man infront of him. “apologies, secretary general. please continue.”

“...” the secretary general scans mycroft's face for any expression hinting to why he seems so out of it tonight. mycroft is too clever not to notice so he arches an eyebrow and the secretary general clears his throat. “ahem. as i was saying, if we are to implement better rules and regulations then..”

the secretary general's voice fades into the background for the second time this night. mere background noise to mycroft holmes—the man known to be devoted to his work. well.. not tonight though. there was something else bothering him.

“you're so beautiful, miss. (name)!” the man infront of you chirps, a patch of hair on his chin for a beard.

his beard doesn't even connect, mycroft scoffs under his breath, thinking to himself. if you can even call it a beard—it's just barely visible stubble. barely there.

“oh thank you!” your hand pats his forearm lightly.

what on earth are you doing? he wishes he could say.

he glances back at the babbling man infront of him; not a stop to his endless tirade of words. he sighs.

“mr. holmes, are you okay?” the secretary general says, tilting his head to the side by the slightest.

“i am.” mycroft replies curtly, not even looking at him. his attention is somewhere else entirely. on you, to be exact. and that rat looking bastard besides you.

“i should be the one thanking you for attending. otherwise i wouldn't have been able to meet you.” the nobleman's gaze falls to your neck where a beautiful pearl necklace rests. “such a gorgeous necklace, i must say.” he uses it as an excuse to caress your neck with the back of his fingers.

mycroft's face darkens visibly, a vein protruding on his jaw as he clenches it. his eyebrows furrow, forming a small line in the space between.

that's enough. he thinks. he doesn't like that. no, not at all. why aren't you saying anything to that bastard?

instead of pushing the nobleman away, it felt like you were encouraging his actions, letting him do as he pleases with you—and that really irritated mycroft.

a server carrying several glasses of sparkling wine walks to each group of people, asking them if they would like some. when the server comes to you, the nobleman alongside you picks up two glasses.

the man is cheerful as he speaks to you, obviously feeling quite joyous at the chance of being able to talk to someone as beautiful as you. “here, miss. a glass of champagne each for you and for me.”

“thank y—”

in mere seconds mycroft has excused himself and began striding to you, footsteps large and distanced.

“thank you.” a man's hands, large and veiny slithers into the space between you and the nobleman. and when they pull back, they retrieve the two glasses of sparkling wine from the nobleman.

your neck snaps around to the deep, familiar voice behind you. you look up to see a tall and looming mycroft, annoyance plastered across his face, hand you one glass and keep the other to himself.

“mycroft!” you smile up at him, eyes glittering. you take the glass of champagne from him and sip at it.

“o-oh,” the nobleman falters, stepping back instinctively. “good.. good evening, mr. holmes.”

“evening.” mycroft's voice is low and rumbly. an arm travels to your hips and he pulls you in close to him.

“fine banquet, isn't it? i quite like the atmosphe—”

“yes, yes.” mycroft hums dismissively. “pardon me, but me and my wife have somewhere to be.”

that's all he says before he's practically dragging you away, a firm hand still grasping onto your waist—not even letting either of you bid farewell to each other.

“we do?” you peek up at him as you're walking away.

“yes.” his voice is quiet. tight. firm. growly. everything sexy. “i feel as if a little disciplining might be in order.”

you gulp thickly at his words as he leads you to the bathroom. but this was what you wanted, after all.

you can't help the small and subtle smirk that appears on your painted lips. “ofcourse.. darling.”

#mycroft holmes x you #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft holmes x y/n #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot x you #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x you #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #mtp x reader #mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes mtp #mtp mycroft holmes

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himegureisu · 2 months

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1 | the Woman

Summary: Mrs. Mycroft Holmes. Yes. You. Most people didn't know you existed. In these years, that's about to change.

A/N: This is the new version. This can be read as a gender-neutral person. However, the pairing remains Mycroft Holmes/Female Reader throughout the story. Season 1 scenes are entirely domestic Mycroft Holmes x Reader. This scene begins at home after Season 1 Episode 1: A Study in Pink. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: There are innuendos at the end of every chapter.

Gaining weight again?

Losing it, in fact.

—————————— 🔎——————————

His stomach was pudgy. It has always been that way since he was a child. Any and every attempt at losing it was an arduous road he refused to take any longer other than the occasional jog on a treadmill at your insistence.

Could he lose it? Yes, however, the effort required to do so was significant in that he would rather accomplish several tasks of import than appease the opinion of others and his vanity.

“Mycroft?”

Your soft inquiring voice breaks through his thoughts. His attention redirected, from the mirror to the sight of you by the threshold from the hall.

“What are you doing in front of the mirror?” you ask, walking over, to stand by his side.

“Sherlock has mocked my weight again,” he sighed, patting the fat on his stomach. “I should be used to it by now, however…”

It was a sore spot from time immemorial. One his brother didn’t hesitate to pick on almost every time they saw each other.

“Are you not bothered by my weight?” he asks, you shake your head: a no, as he faces you, “Truly?”

“Mycroft Holmes, I didn’t care about your weight before we married. I certainly do not care for it much now,” you say as you cup your hands on his cheeks in all seriousness, “I’d rather you eat and overindulge in meals than skip them. It means you’re taking care of yourself. Your job is already stressful and Sherlock being reckless is the literal cherry on top. If partaking in an extra slice of cake can soothe your frayed nerves, then be my guest. However, do save a piece for me, and then we’ll find a way to lose the calories together.“

Your hands trail from his face to his body, noting every curve and contour to memory. He may not be society’s ideal man but you love every part of him. Even those parts that he hates.

“You are incomparable, my dear.” his voice wavered, as he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours. “Thank you,”

“I love you just the way you are, Mycroft,” you whispered, brushing a quick gentle kiss on his lips, “Don’t you ever doubt that,”

To Mycroft, your words were the only ones that truly mattered. Your acceptance and love are a balm to his insecurities and fears. He never thought that he’d ever experience such unconditional love from anyone except his parents. However, it seems that the world has granted him the privilege of being loved by you.

“Would you like to join me in our bedroom, my dear?” he suggested. His eyes twinkled mischievously in the evening light. “I thought of a way to lose those calories,”

“Oh, do tell then,”

“I’d rather show,”

NEXT >>

#mycroft holmes #bbc mycroft #bbc mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft x reader #bbc sherlock #xreader #mycroft holmes x you #mycroft x you #bbc mycroft holmes x you #bbc mycroft x you

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multific · 16 days

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Destiny

Mycroft Holmes x Reader

Summary: What happens when you fall in love with the IceMan himself? It can never end well, right?

Destiny.

A simple word yet it held so much power.

What does it mean to be destined for something or even, someone?

When you first heard about this word, your grandmother told you how she and your grandfather met.

A true love story.

A story so beautiful it was always in the back of your head as you grew older and older.

You hoped you would have a similar experience in your love life. Finding, the person and falling in love, it all sounded amazing.

You knew you wouldn't be able to force such a thing, you were aware of that. And yet, you were impatient.

So impatient that in fact, you fall into many traps.

In many ways, you thrived in your life.

Expect your love life.

Your desire for a love like no other made you fall in love with men who were undeserving.

Until you met Mycroft Holmes.

To say that he was the entire British Government would be an understatement.

You applied for a simple job, to be his assistant.

You spent so much time with him, that you thought you were going insane.

You blamed Stockholm syndrome for your feelings.

The moment you realized your feelings were real was during a very difficult week.

Almost every criminal in London had an agenda to mess with him. This caused you to do so much overtime, that you didn't even leave the office.

It was during the fourth day when Mycroft showed up with a bouquet.

"I thought you would be home," he said, clearly he wasn't prepared to have you right there, at your desk. "Usually you arrive at 6:46 because you stop by at the nearby bakery for breakfast and coffee."

So, he did pay attention to you. After he spent all that time to make sure you are aware that he simply doesn't care for people like you.

"I stayed to finish the file on this. I-"

"Did you eat?"

"No, Sir." he made a face at that and took his phone out of his pocket.

"Delivery will be here in 10 minutes. Eat, drink your coffee and then come speak with me. I'll be in my office."

He ordered exactly just what you wanted with the most perfect coffee you ever had.

He paid attention to you.

And you realized your feelings for him were real.

You knew hiding it from him would be impossible. Mycroft was incredibly smart. He would notice.

But little did you know, he felt the same.

He thought you would notice his feelings and confront him about it.

He wasn't ready for a rejection.

Yet, your rejection never came.

Not when he asked you out to dinner. Not when he brought you another bouquet.

Not when he kissed you.

Instead, he let you guide him.

Love wasn't new to him. He loved his siblings, and his parents but this kind of love is very different.

He didn't have experience with this kind of love, and it scared him a little.

But he also didn't reject it.

He embraced it.

And soon, a beautiful diamond ring found its rightful place on your finger.

It might have not been the way you wanted your one and true love.

But it was your destiny.

And you were okay with it.

Taglist:

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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specialagentlokitty · 9 months

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Mycroft x reader - reminder

Hi can I request a Mycroft x reader? Just some fluff please - @marvelfunkopop101💜

Mycroft Holmes was not a man of affectionate words, or affection at all really, he didn’t like to be hugged, or to hold hands, or say how he felt.

But he showed it in the little things he would do.

He always made sure you had your favourite drink, he would always make sure you got home safe or to work safe.

He would kiss your forehead when he saw you, or when he was leaving.

But sometimes.

Just sometimes.

He would come in, like he just had, and he would get changed, and make his was over to the bed to sit with you.

Except instead of sitting, he laid down, resting his head on your stomach as he sighed softly.

Reaching a hand out, you placed it on his head, and you smiled softly at him.

“Darling?” You asked.

“It’s been a long day…”

You nodded your head, and leant down, turning his face towards you, you kissed his forehead and smiled down at him.

Mycroft smiled a little at you, and he rolled over, laying on his back, but his head still in your stomach as you gently ran your thumb along his cheek.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No, I don’t want to bore you with the events of my day, I’d just like to lay here if I can?”

“Of course you can.”

He smiled and placed his hand on your wrist, running his thumb along your skin, and you smiled, going back to watch the Tv.

He wouldn’t sat there for long, he never did, so when he began to sit up you let him go so he could.

He tapped your shoulder and you sat up as well, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulder, guiding you into his side.

And you curled into him, resting your head on his arms and he held you to his side.

There wasn’t many words needed, sometimes he just liked to sit in silence, and you didn’t mind it at all.

So, that’s what you did, you felt his fingers run through your hair, and his thumb on his other hand trail small circled into the skin of your arm.

You placed your hand on his hand and you took it from your head, holding it next to your face and Mycroft smiled softly down at you.

He was completely fascinated by you, in love with you.

“You’re wonderful…” he whispered.

You laughed softly, and you sat up.

Placed your hands on his face, you leant forward and softly kissed him before you pulled away.

“I love you.” He said.

“I love you too.”

He kissed you once more before letting you return to laying down on him.

Sometimes he liked to tell you he loved you, just as a little reminder in case you didn’t know

#bbc Sherlock #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #bbc Sherlock imagine #bbc sherlock mycroft #Mycroft Holmes #Mycroft Holmes x reader #mycroft holmes x you #Mycroft Holmes imagine

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asgards-princess-of-mischief · 6 months

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Last Updated: 2023-11-07

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite BBC!Mycroft Holmes stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

✑ Earth Angel by lacelynpage • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "[You] spent the last year and a half planning [your] wedding and know every detail except one. Mycroft picked and then wouldn't tell you what song you would be dancing to for your first dance."

✑ Force Majeure by the-girl-next-door-writes • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Mycroft Holmes is so caught up in analyzing his own feelings that he doesn't see they could be reciprocated. Lucky for him, his little brother is an interfering shit."

✑ He Should Know What to Expect by galactic-academia • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Lady Smallwood wants to 'have a drink' with Mycroft; he's confused, but Reader knows exactly what to do..."

✑ Hold My Hand by grace-writes-sh*t • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Mycroft Holmes was not known as a very compassionate man. To some, his emotionless personality is… strength, himself included in this. To others, it is viewed as insensitivity and rudeness. [However,] to one such woman in his life, it is nothing [more than] a shield to protect the ones he loves."

✑ It's Beautiful by sherlockxreader • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Rain usually means less people milling around London streets. [Still,] you love the rain. Seems someone else appreciates it as well."

✑ Little Smiles by marvelmymarvel • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "When life got crazy as a spy and your life was endangered, the US sent you to England to be protected and to 'start over' as they would like to say. You were placed under the care of Mycroft Holmes and soon became the mystery woman to the people of England."

✑ Motivated by sherlockxreader • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Mycroft hasn't been enjoying exercising, so the reader decides to help motivate him creatively by working out with him."

✑ Pointless Jealousy by megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms • 〔A〕 •

Summary: You can't help but feel heartbroken after learning about Mycroft's *ahem* arrangement with Lady Smallwood. Mycroft makes the situation by dismissing your jealousy as a pointless emotion.

✑ Your Hand in Mind by the-girl-next-door-writes • 〔A〕 •

Summary: "Witnessing the death of Mary Watson causes Mycroft to focus on what he feels is truly important to him."

✑ A Matter of Take Out by bakerstreethound • 〔F〕 •

✑ Can't Lose You by specialagentlokitty • 〔A᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Cuddles with Mummy by fandom-puff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ Deeply and Unswerving

✑ Feelings by imagine-by-susu • 〔A〕 •

✑ First Date by multific • 〔F〕 •

✑ First Sight by collecting-stories • 〔F〕 •

✑ His Weakness by imagine-by-susu • 〔A〕 •

✑ I Need to Go by imagine-by-susu • 〔A〕 •

✑ Jealousy by coppercatwrites • 〔A〕 •

✑ Just a Tad Sweeter by sherlockxreader • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Late at Night by multific • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ Masquerade by megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms • 〔F〕 •

✑ Midnight Mission by fandom-writers • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ My Boys by make-me-imagine • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Never Fell Out of Love by raggedy-dxctor • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Oh Darling by lacelynpage • 〔F〕 •

✑ Pleasant Distraction by fandom-puff • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Precious Cargo by bewarethecrazyperson • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Prim and Proper by fandom-writers • 〔F〕 •

✑ Pub by make-me-imagine • 〔F〕 •

✑ Sherlock No! by specialagentlokitty • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ So Brilliant by lacelynpage • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Surveillance

✑ Time the Ice Man Melts, the by deerstalkersanddangerousthoughts • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Visiting by fandom-puff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ Work Function by multific • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Wrong Person by anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Dating Mycroft would incude... by lacelynpage • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Dating Mycroft would include... by raggedy-dxctor • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

See Also: Navigation || BBC!Mycroft Holmes Master Index

Authors: @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek | @bakerstreethound | @bewareofthecrazyperson | @collecting-stories | @coppercatwrites | @deerstalkersanddangerousthoughts || @fandom-puff | @fandom-writers | @galactic-academia | @girl-next-door-writes | @grace-writes-shit | @imagine-by-susu | @lacelynpage | @make-me-imagine | @marvelmymarvel | @megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms | @multific | @raggedy-dxctor | @rreader | @sherlockxreader | @specialagentlokitty |

#Mycroft Holmes x Reader #Mycroft Holmes x Female Reader #Mycroft Holmes x Y/N #Mycroft Holmes x You #Mycroft x Reader #Mycroft x Female Reader #Mycroft x Y/N #Mycroft x You #Mark Gatiss x Reader #Mark Gatiss x Female Reader #Mark Gatiss x Y/N #Mark Gatiss x You #BBC Sherlock Fanfiction #BBC Sherlock Fanfic #Mark Gatiss Fanfiction #Mark Gatiss Fanfic

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dazaiandhislovelybandages · 11 months

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Hi, can I request a jealous Mycroft Holmes x fem reader? <3

Jealousy {M.H}

A/n: okay first of all I am so sorry that I haven't posted anything in quite some time but I had to study for my exams so... yes. Anyways here is me writing again. Also, I am apologising in adance in case this sucks but I don't think Mycroft is a jealous person

Pairing: Mycroft Holmes x f!reader

Trigger warnings:

It had been a couple of days since Mycroft and you had last written to each other, let alone seen each other. It wasn't anything serious. Mycroft was busy as he always was and you had gone to a trip in Paris for your brother's wedding.

After a week you finally came back to London. The carriage stopped right in front of your mansion, a house your father had bought you for your birthday last year. It was a lovely house, almost like a cottage with a huge garden that you always made sure to personally tend to.

Thanking the driver, you headed towards the front door. The butler and all the servants had of course been notified of your arrival so they were already in position to welcome you back.

Or at least you thought they were because of that.

Well... they partially were but there was another reason when it came to them acting so nervous; a reason you quickly figure out after walking in the living room.

There, sitting leisurely on the white leather couch, smoking an oddly cheap cigarette sat Mycroft.

"I didn't know you smoked..." You picked up the cigarette box from the brown coffee table and looked at it. "Whatever brand this is." You set it down after not being able to find the name of the brand.

"Did you have fun at your trip?"

You raised an eyebrow at the straightforward question. "The wedding was wonderful." You smiled even though Mycroft's expression remained serious.

"You could have told me to accompany you." He lit the cigarette off and left it in the ashtray. "It is not like we are hiding our relationship." He placed his left hand on the arm of the couch.

"No one said we are..." You replied hesitantly.

The truth was that the two of you hadn't really talked about the wedding of your brother and of course there was a reason why you hadn't asked Mycroft to accompany you there.

"You were busy."

"I could have found-"

"No you couldn't and we both know it." You hated how overworked he was but for a strange reason he never seemed to mind running a few more errands for the Queen.

Mycroft took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair.

"This is not about me not taking you with me to the wedding is it?" You giggled.

You had guessed this would happen. Or to be more specific, you had figured out what Mycroft was thinking the night of the wedding after sending you a letter saying he hoped you had a lot of fun.

"I didn't dance with anyone." You stood up from your seat on the couch opposite to him and walked over before sitting next to him, taking his hand in yours. His expression changing just a little -his gaze softening- resulted in you letting out a small chuckle.

"Really?" He turned his head to look at you. "And no man flirted with you?"

You rolled your eyes. It was the load of work that had resulted in him acting like a teenage boy in love because Mycroft wasn't usually like this. He didn't get jealous because he knew that if someone tried to flirt with you, you were more than capable to reject him.

"Many tried." You teased him. "But no one was good enough so-"

Your eyes widened at the feeling of his soft lips against yours, his hands cupping both of your cheeks and his cold rings against your skin.

"Good." He pulled away, straightening his back. His expression was back to serious in a matter of seconds. "And no, I was not jealous."

"Whatever you say."

A/n: sorry if this sucked, honestly

#anime and manga #writing #anime #moriarty the patriot #manga #moriarty the patriot x reader #mycroft holmes moriarty the patriot x reader #mycroft holmes moriarty the patriot x you #mycroft holmes x you #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes moriarty the patriot

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french-vanilla-in-the-clouds · 1 year

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𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: When Y/N is invited to a polo tournament on Deville manor, she never expects for the Holmes boys to fall for her during the weekend getaway. Though Sherlock is keen to make sparks fly, his love for Y/N seems more and more like a competition with his older brother.

Y/N soon learns that she has more on the line than simply getting her heart broken. She might also be at the centre of a dark conspiracy. 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

────────⊳⋆⊲────────

"Do you see John, anywhere?" Mary peered through her binoculars, searching for her husband on the open field. “I promised him we’d pop by before the match.”

Y/N huffed in amusement. Earlier that week, Mycroft had invited John, Greg, Sherlock, and by extension, Mary and Y/N to join him for a weekend's polo tournament. The four men would play against a team of Mycroft's colleagues over the course of three days. It was a prestigious event and several higher up's in the British government would be in attendance.

The renowned Deville manor served as lodging and camp, with the lord of the house acting as master of ceremonies. Lord Deville's property extended throughout the English countryside, its picturesque landscape making the ideal spot for a tournament.

Y/N had been quick to accept Mycroft's invitation, only waiting for Sherlock's agreement before blurting out a sharp "yes," herself. She'd been doing that a lot lately - observing Sherlock's interactions from a distance. She ached for his approval but couldn't discern why.

Y/N ambled past a team of rival polo players with Mary still linked to her arm. Socialites mingled in groups around her. They chatted softly, their fingers wrapped around champagne glasses. Y/N instinctively smoothed down the front of her blouse. She scanned the manor's busy plot and noticed a row of security personall in the backstands working to blend into the background. It didn't come as a surprise that Mycroft had invited them to such a shrouded event. The man dealt in secrets, even during his leisure time.

"Have you spoken to Mycroft lately?" Y/N asked absently.

Mary dropped her binoculars. "He's not exactly my confidant. Why do you ask?"

Secretly, Y/N was intrigued by Mycroft's low profile, but she shrugged it off under Mary's stare. "I was just wondering. Isn't it strange that he invited us all for a weekend getaway? Social niceties aren't really his speed."

Mary pursed her lips. "You know, I was wondering that myself. I’d say he has something hidden up his sleeve."

“There’s certainly more to him than meets the eye,” Y/N murmured. She ignored Mary’s raised brow and changed the subject. "Anyway, I can't wait to see Sherlock in his riding gear. Do you think he's ever played polo before?" She bit back a smile trying to imagine Sherlock in sport's attire.

"Somebody is awfully curious about the Holmes boys today." Mary's eyes gleamed with mischief. "In love with them, are you? Oh, the scandal!”

Y/N clicked her tongue in annoyance, off put by the unwitting truth in Mary’s quip.

"I'm only teasing, love." Mary leaned her head against Y/N's shoulder and tried to suppress a giggle. "Come on, I think I see our boys just up ahead!"

The pair stumbled along a gravel path until they came to the main stables behind the playing field. Inside, John and Greg stood next to their ponies, both dressed in their polo whites and helmets.

Greg was the first to see them. "Oi, ladies!" he called. "What do you think?" He gave them a twirl, showing off his garb.

They clapped, both delighted by the outfits. "Your turn, John!" Mary called to her husband. "Give us a spin!"

John rubbed his pony's mane. "Absolutely not."

"Come on, mate," Greg urged. "Just a small one." John glanced at his friends and sighed. He spun in a circle begrudgingly and ended with a bow. "Are you satisfied?"

"Don't play coy," Mary chided. She slid over to her husband's side and kissed his cheek. "You really do look quite sexy."

"You think so?" John pressed his forehead against hers, pleased with the attention.

Greg and Y/N shared a meaningful glance, neither a stranger to the Watsons' marital bliss. "Almost make you want a love of your own, don't they, these two?" Greg whispered dreamily. Y/N hummed in agreement. The Holmes brothers flashed in her mind. There and gone again in an instant. Though she smiled, the inspector's words brought an ache to the pit of her stomach.

She ignored it.

The sound of footsteps sounded from the other end of the stable. "Fashionably late, are we?" Sherlock stepped in with Mycroft in tow. His posture was relaxed and he radiated a confidence that could be perceived as hubris by those that didn’t know him. The polo whites clung to his lithe frame, perfectly creased and tailored. A red stripe ran up his rider's boots, a striking contrast against the bright ensemble. Though Sherlock had never worn athlete's wear before, if Y/N hadn't known him, she'd swear that he'd been riding since his youth.

"Terribly sorry about the holdup," Mycroft called out. He glared at his brother with controlled irritation. He also wore the team colours, though his uniform was stitched with a gold crest on the breast pocket, marking him as Captain. He stepped forwards until he reached Y/N's side. He caught her eyes, his gaze inquisitive. "A gentleman never leaves a lady waiting,” he said. Mycroft's words were deliberate and relayed an intimacy that Y/N had never expected from him before. She studied him, surprised by the soft smile peaking from the corners of his lips. He seemed pleased to see her.

The spell was broken when Sherlock squeezed himself between the pair. "Yes, quite right. Thank you for that rather mediaeval anecdote, Mycroft. Now, why don't you check on the ladies near the playing field instead? I'm sure they're keen to see you. Wives of your colleagues and all." Though his tone was light, a darker mood hid beneath Sherlock's words. He held his brother's gaze with steady defiance, daring him to stay.

Mycroft spared a last nod at Y/N before stepping out from the stables. Y/N stared after him, puzzled albeit intrigued by his energy. In her bewilderment, she nearly missed the gentle touch of Sherlock's hand upon the small of her back. She looked at him, flustered by the doting gleam in his eye.

He moved his hand lower until it wrapped around her waist. With the other, he fetched the reins of his mare, guiding it out from the stall. “John, Lestrade, I’ll meet you on the pitch. Five minutes, no more.” Sherlock dipped down until his lips were level to Y/N’s ear. "Walk with me," he breathed.

Y/N felt a pleasant warmth at the contact. She followed him and though time didn't still, it slowed enough for her to question her affections.

Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes.

Two brothers with distinct sovereignty. Both intent on surpassing the other on every intellectual front. Beyond that, a rivalry existed between them, one that transcended their skills of deduction. Contention came naturally between the brothers. One need only imagine what might happen if passion were introduced to the equation.

“Are you alright?”

Y/N blinked. Her thoughts had raced off and now Sherlock was studying her carefully, concern creasing his brow. He had led her to a garden labyrinth, the scent of English yew unfurling around them.

Y/N braved a smile. He was beautiful in the sunlight. She reached out and caressed the mare that had cantered alongside them. It nuzzled into her palm. “I’m fine,” she said. “I was just thinking about the match.”

Sherlock nodded absently. He placed his hand over Y/N’s so that they both caressed the horse. She could feel his pulse, controlled but forceful against her skin. She met his eyes. She nearly shied away from his focus but he tipped her chin forwards with the shadow of a touch.

“You’re lying,” he said. “You were thinking of me.”

Y/N tensed and the mare whinnied.

Sherlock took both her hands in his own and held them to his chest. “Do you think of me often, I wonder? Do you think of my touch? I know I dream of yours.” Y/N dropped her arms to her sides, numb with anticipation. Though anticipation of what, she couldn’t discern.

Sherlock Holmes was her friend and nothing more. She couldn’t let her silly fantasies seep into their exchanges.

The overshadow from the noon sun cast darkened contours on Sherlock’s face but it didn’t harden the softness of his eyes. Y/N could no longer deny the implication of his words when she felt the push of his leg press her against the labyrinth’s hedged wall. The prick of branches pierced her back but she held her breath.

“Is this alright?” Sherlock breathed. He had already drawn nearer, his body flush against hers. His breaths were laboured, the faint touch of his lips on her cheek electric.

Y/N nodded.

Sherlock pulled back. “I need to hear you say it,” he said. “Otherwise…” he let the sentence linger, giving weight to his words.

“Yes.”

He exhaled as though he were expecting a rebuff. “Thank you.”

Sherlock licked his lips before dipping forwards and catching Y/N’s kiss. He held the back of her neck, the softness of his touch suggesting a fear of fragility. Y/N tensed despite the thrill of their tryst. Her blouse dropped from a shoulder and she gasped at the sudden coolness punctuating her warmth.

Sherlock grinned as he pressed another kiss to her neck. He caught the exposed skin from the fallen sleeve and breathed in the fading scent of her perfume and the labyrinth’s flora. He pushed deeper into the crook of her neck, landing tender kisses along the delicate line towards her jaw.

Y/N stood rigid at first, her chin resting against Sherlock’s shoulder. All she could do was grip at the back of his polo shirt, still disconcerted by his sudden show of passion. “I love you,” she heard him murmur into her neck. Her breath caught before she heard it again. “I love you.”

Y/N let her head fall back on the hedged wall. She felt as though seeing through a veil, unsure of this new development. Just yesterday, Sherlock had treated her as a friend. Though she always wished for it to be true, she hadn’t expected to become his lover only hours later. Mycroft flashed through her mind, but she waved him away.

Why was she thinking of the elder Holmes brother when Sherlock stood there having just confessed to loving her? Mycroft had shown her a rare kindness today, but she couldn’t pretend that it meant anything.

What had changed?

“Sherlock, I —”

“Five minutes, nothing more, was it?” a voice called out suddenly.

Y/N flinched and quickly straightened herself out from behind Sherlock. She peeked behind his shoulder and saw Mycroft standing across from them. He seemed bemused yet his eyes relayed vexation and hurt.

Sherlock turned and faced his brother. “Has it been longer than that already?” he asked jokingly. “Time seems to have gotten away from me.”

“Indeed. You’re already six minutes past the mark.” Mycroft geared forwards, his steps deliberate, his mood icy. “Hello Miss Y/N,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to be the keeper of my brother’s protraction.”

Sherlock looked back at Y/N and grinned. “Our meeting was imperative,” he assured his brother, arrogance dripping into his tone.

“Recreational,” Mycroft corrected.

The tension was heavy between both brothers and Y/N shuddered at their subtle resentment. “Sherlock, lead the mare to the pitch,” Mycroft ordered.

Sherlock stood firmly. “Can’t you?” he said innocently.

“I can’t always be the one to clean up after you. Take responsibility, brother mine. Or else you’ll lead her astray.”

Mycroft’s words were cryptic and Y/N got the sense that the conversation had veered away from the mare.

Sherlock tensed but did as his brother commanded. Just before he left though, he turned to smile at Y/N. “We’ll pick up on this, I swear to it,” he said, pressing one last kiss to her cheek. She smiled back but felt nervous at the unspoken truths writhing between both brothers’ obscured words.

They were hiding something and she was somehow involved.

Mycroft watched his brother leave before approaching Y/N. “This is already a strenuous event for me,” he said to her. “Do not prolong my agony.”

Y/N shuddered. “What do you mean?”

He smiled, but there was a sadness to it. “You look lovely in that dress,” he said, ignoring her question.

“Mycroft?”

“Tread lightly. There are secrets to this tournament that I fear will destroy you.” He sighed. “Take care of your heart, for it will prove your undoing.” Mycroft unclipped the stitched crest from his breast pocket and handed it to Y/N. “Maybe this will help in time.”

Y/N watched as he stepped away after his brother. Her heart was beating fast and the labyrinth’s glamour was slowly losing its appeal.

What had just happened?

Y/N felt as though caught in a web. She couldn’t distinguish sibling rivalry from the threat of something more sinister happening on the Deville manor. She tucked the crest into her pocket, too off put to inspect the strange gift just yet.

She thought of Sherlock. Did he truly love her? It had all seemed so perfect until those last few moments.

Y/N tried to steady the frantic beating of her heart. She would search for answers soon enough. She would unveil the Holmes brothers’ secrets. She would decipher the ragings of her emotions. Until then, there was a polo match to attend. She hoped it would run smoothly but in the deepest parts of her, she knew:

Madness would ensue.

────────⊳⋆⊲────────

*grabs you by the coat collar* wanna read Feels Like Christmas?

Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this!!! I'm thinking of making "Game of Kings" a three part series, but I'm really not sure. It's a maybe possibly at the moment. So, if you're wondering about the sudden click where Sherlock randomly professed his love to Y/N without any context to the nature of their relationship... I'm leading up to that (hopefully). Is it genuine??? Is he playing with her heart??? Protecting her, maybe??? I don't know. And the sitch with Mycroft will come into play too. I hope this fic wasn't too messy.

tagging: @twisted-monster @starryeddie @the-chaotic-cow @turkisherlockian @aephereal @andthevillainshallrises @baby-bloos @cookiemumster1 @eternal-silvertongued-prince @bogginsreadings @lumosouls @spencerrxids @serenity-lattes @msseijii @classickook @starstruck-loner @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @lucywrites02 @danzalladaggers @mrs-holmes @pytharuw @antsn @kabubsmagga @newtsniffles @cemak @sleepilysworld @bakerstreethound

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shinybearnerd · 1 year

Text

“At Dead of Night”

Hi everyone!

This is a little ff for the BBC Sherlock fandom.

It's set a little bit before the events of the third season. So !SPOILER WARNING! if you had not seen it yet.

Honestly, I don't know what it is. I'm tired and I wanted to exorcise my old obsession with this (wonderful) series by writing something.

It was supposed to be longer, with the reader that finds out that Sherlock is alive and that Mycroft lied to them. Let me know if you're interested in that. I'll do a part 2 if that's the case.

Anyway, I hope you like it. Let me know what you think down below!

(no use of y/n - the reader has they/them pronounce)

-Engish is not my first language. So I'm sorry if there are any mistakes-

Pair: Mycroft x reader, a few remainders of Sherlock x reader

Words: 1,5k

Genre: Fluff , a little bit of Angst

Story: Reader and Mycroft finally have some precious time alone. During this, Reader remembers and thinks about the last three years and his relationship with the Holmes brothers. About that, lately, they have the feeling that the oldest might hide something...

Dining with Mycroft is... strange. Beautiful but strange.

No. Strange is not the right word.

Upsetting, perhaps?

Disarming?

Yes. Disarming is the right word.

You were so used to the half dinners that every so often you and Sherlock indulged between one case and another that remaining seated from ordering to withdrawing the last dish destabilized you in a good way. Even if you can't help but think that with Sherlock you would have had more fun. Not that Mycroft was boring. No, it was quite the opposite.

The charm and elegance of that man had always been something that had fascinated and impressed you. It's a characteristic that could also be seen in the younger of the Holmes brothers but stood out in the movements of the older one. Like right now: he had raised his arm slightly, getting the attention of a waiter who immediately ran towards your table. Then he asked if it might be possible to have another bottle of who knows what fine wine he was craving at that moment. And all you can do is smile at him and restrain the urge you had at that moment to jump on him and make love once again. It mattered little to you if everyone saw you.

Mycroft loved to spoil you.

You came to understand it quite soon. When you pointed out that there was no need and that all that attention could embarrass you, he replied that if you wanted the world, he would have brought it to you on a tray of gold.

That statement turned you on more than you care to admit.

Next month will be the third year since you saw him die. Sometimes that horrible, heartbreaking image would come back to visit you during your nightmares. Since you've been dating Mycroft tho, things started to change.

Having someone take care of you, and granting any kind of wish was incredibly pleasant.

Not that Sherlock didn't care about what you needed. He had his way of dealing with this kind of thing. And, even late at times, your needs were met.

He was a lovable and, more than his pride would admit, forgetful idiot. Your lovable and forgetful idiot.

He has been your rock in difficult times. He was your confidant. A person you could talk to. Over time he too has opened up to your presence and you have discovered a side of Mycroft that you would not even have imagined before.

Then things started to change. And perhaps for the best.

Between one evening together and another, a kiss escaped. Then a date. And after even more time, a night of love at the man's house. The first time after Sherlock's death.

You felt awful. Disgusting.

You hated yourself because you felt like you cheated on Sherlock by sleeping with his brother. With his enemy.

In all this, however, Mycroft was always understanding. He didn't push you into doing anything. He always listened and asked if you were comfortable doing anything.

He was able to make you feel alive and loved once again. Which you didn't think was possible. Spending time with him was magical and incredibly peaceful. Maybe more than you wanted, but you need calm and serenity in your life. So everything was perfect.

Except for one thing. You had the sensation that he was hiding something from you.

As the waiter walked away from your table, Mycroft noticed your gaze on him. He smiled too, taking your hands and leaving a kiss on your skin.

<<Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?>>

That nickname always managed to make you blush like a teenager.

<<Very.>>

His smile widened. <<I'm happy.>>

He had a strange look in his eyes. Like someone who has a cross to bear.

It's not the first time you've noticed such a look. In these three years, you have noticed it several times. Particularly when he thought you were not watching him.

<<Hard day at work?>> You ask him.

He looks down at your hands and strokes them with his thumb. <<No more than others.>>

<<Something wrong? I see you a little tense, love.>>

<<I'm fine. Don't worry.>>

<<Is there anything I can do to help you?>> You ask with a hint of maliciousness in your voice.

You give up, even if momentarily.

Mycroft could be stubborn if he wanted to and you're sure if you insisted you wouldn't get anything out of it. Might as well wait for the moment when he wants to talk.

But you know that something was up.

Mycroft's smile went from adoring to mischievous in fractions of seconds. He was about to say something when he was interrupted by two waiters. One who served you dessert and another who opened the requested bottle and poured it.

<<What are we toasting to?>> You ask, taking your glass.

<<To the beautiful person in front of me.>>

You blush hard while smiling. <<Stop it! You know it bothers me!>>

He chuckles and clinks both glasses together. <<To you, my love.>>

<<You know what? I don't want to do anything more for you. Keep your secrets.>>

He looked at you with a beaten puppy gaze as he lowered his wine glass and opened his jacket to reach for his cell phone in the inside pocket. You see him getting white as a ghost as soon as his eyes rest on the name that appears on the screen.

Mycroft opens his mouth to tell you that your beauty was meant to be celebrated every second, when he is interrupted by his cell phone ringing.

You were annoyed that someone was interrupting you, but you know very well that Mycroft can't help it.

<<I'm sorry, my dear.>>

He gets up, kisses you and walks towards the exit.

You can see him through one of the vertical windows on either side of the hall. He's tense. Very tense.

He walks slowly up and down the street. He is listening to someone, trying to assess the situation. Suddenly his head snaps up. You can't see his face because of the distance, but you know that it's no good and that Mycroft must leave as soon as possible.

You thank the waiter by leaving a generous tip and get up, walking towards the lobby.

You call the waiter with a wave of your hand, asking for the bill and if it were possible to pack the two desserts to take them away.

In a few minutes, he fixed everything.

<<Are you going away, miss?>>

<<I'm afraid so.>>

<<Okay. Wait here while I get your coats, please.>>

As the woman walks away, you can get a better look at your boyfriend.

His back is straight and tense. The expression is always cold and detached but the movement of his lips makes you understand that he is furious.

You are very concerned about this situation. You’ve never seen him so upset.

The receptionist's voice wakes you from your thoughts.

She moves behind you and helps you put on your coat.

<<Thank you.>>

<<You’re welcome, miss. Here. This is your husband's.>> She smiles as she hands you Mycroft's coat.

<<He’s- ...Thank you. Good evening.>>

Husband...

You’ve never thought about that

As the woman opens the door to let you out you find yourself looking at your left ring finger. Smiling at the idea.

How can't you? Mycroft was perfect.

As soon as you finish the sentence, Mycroft feels weird. He doesn't know what that depends on. He just can't help but smile.

<<Yes, I'll be right there.>>

Your boyfriend has just ended the call when he notices your presence.

<> You tell him as you hand him both the jacket and the box containing the desserts. <<And these are both yours. From how tense I see you, I know you deserve them all.>>

<>

You both are surprised and stare blanc at each other.

It's the first time either of them has said the l-word.

A taxi appeared, parking in front of you. You share another kiss before the eldest Holmes opens the door for you, and then closes it behind you.

You smile at him. Hug him to you and kiss him. <>

He melts under your touch.

<>

<> You reply mischievously.

Mycroft chuckles. <<That's not what I meant ... Or at least in part.

<>

<>

<<I'll make it up to you.>>

<> You stated as you caress his face. <<Can we talk later?>>

<<Of course. Call me when you arrive.>>

<<The same goes for you too, Mister.>>

You think for a long time about that "I'll make it up to you". He had an odd tone. As if he was hiding something.

He smiles at you, kisses you one more time and gives directions to the taxi driver.

As soon as the taxi starts you realize that his car has arrived, but Mycroft doesn't get on it. He waits for you to leave, waving at you from a distance. You blow him a kiss and sit up composed.

You suppress a yawn in your throat and blame it all on tiredness and your overthinking. Mycroft has always told you everything. Sure he would not hide something from you... right?

#mycroft #mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft holmes x you #mycroft holmes fluff #mycroft holmes angst #bbc sherlock #sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #bbc sherlock imagine #bbc sherlock fanfiction #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #bbc sherlock fic #fanfiction #ff

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madlittlecriminal · 10 months

Text

Mycroft Holmes Masterlist

*DISCONTINUED*

(*) ➞contains sexual innuendos/light smut

(**) ➞contains smut

(▾) ➞contains angst/trigger warning(s)

(°) ➞authors personal favorites

(…) ➞request

(•) ➞holiday themed

(§) ➞alternate universe (AU)

(≈) ➞headcanons (HC)

(۵) ➞prompts

(❅) ➞blurbs

-Creep (▾)(…)

-Little Things Matter (…)(°)

-My Little Tease (…)(*)

-Only You (…)(*)

-Plankton (…)

-Phone (…)

-Quince (…)(°)

-There’s Nothing Holdin’ Me Back (▾)

#mycroft x reader #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft x you #mycroft x y/n #mycroft holmes x you #mycroft holmes x y/n #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #mycroft #mycroft holmes

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ananiel · 4 months

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Imagine being able to see spirits. You are able to see animals and humans walking (or floating) around, hearing how they talk and how they speak, talking about how they wish they could see their family or talking about how they want nothing more but justice

You are able to touch and pet, to speak and to interact with any of them, and when people touch your bare skin, they can see spirits too, which caused You to always wear gloves and long sleaves, as well as a mask

Now, the basic answear for this Power would be to become an oracle or some crazy witch of the Town. But what if You become a Detective. Yep, a young Detective that suddenly rised into the favour of the people for being able to solve cases that are a century old (mainly because the beheaded victim cries in Your bathroom at 3:36 am sharp every night)

So You live like this, in a happy way with your gift

Logical would be to keep your gift hidden too, so that people don't try to kill You for knowing to much

You met him on a random day, thinking nothing of him while a dog spirit was hiding behind your leg. He seemed friendly, and eager to befriend You as well, almost honored to be in your presence

Now spirits upon spirits whisper his name, talk about how deranged and how he was the one who killed them, or played part into their death. Spirits that got very fond of You would tell You to stay away from that man

You clearly followed their advice, and distanced yourself from him. But he isn't dumb, he caught up to it, and now, he tries to figure out what has gotten You to hate him so much

Surely... He has been studing You for ages, talking You day and night to figure out the best personality to just steal You away only for himself. What failed in his plan?

He asked himself, oh well, guess he'd have to take You in a more forcefull attempt

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frost-queen · 4 months

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Outmatched //Part 10 (Reader!Holmes x Anthony Bridgerton)

Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve,

@queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @denkisclown, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @october-leaves, @m-rae23,@kazbekkarluvbot, @freyathehuntress,

@kneelforloki, @mamaj-right, @queensgirl718, @abaker74, @thescooby-gang, @readers-posts, @randomstory56, @aureolinb, @fictional-hooman,

@nyenye, @loliakeoghan23, @heyheyheyggg, @aizawash0e, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @novas-dreamworld, @preciousbabypeter, @magical-spit, @heyheyheyggg, studioreader, @wonderlandfandomkingdom, @misscaller06, @dracoflaco, @nikithepuff, @child-of-of-the-sunshine

Summary: Schemes come to plan in order to force Anthony and you together. Can a heart to heart change matters? Certainly now your aunt has come into the picture, wanting to have her demands over you. [ Final chapter ] Read part 1 & part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9

Sherlock was writing vigorously. The feather in his hand moving swiftly as he scribbled it around. Dipping as quick as he could in the ink seemingly not wanting to forget a word. It had been annoying you for the past couple of days. It made you sigh loud to get his attention. Nothing occurred as Sherlock was lost in his own mind. Having no ears for his surroundings. You sighed again sitting sloppy in the armchair.

Irritated by the scratching of the feather over paper, you got up. – “Whoever are you corresponding with so eagerly?” – You called out making your way over to him. You came to the front of the desk, lowering yourself on your knees, chin up on the level of the desk. Finally Sherlock noticed you with a brief glance. – “A lady perhaps?” – you responded shockingly.

“Someone you met at the ball? Are you in love Sherlock?” – you questioned with a gleam in your eyes. – “Don’t be absurd.” – Sherlock answered dipping the feather in the ink. – “A sister can dream.” – you told him slightly bummed. Sherlock looked up from his paper. – “So can a brother.” – he simply said. It made you roll your eyes at him.

“Should you not be preparing yourself?” – Sherlock spoke barely looking up as he finished the letter with his name. – “Prepare for what?” – you responded confused. Sherlock placed the feather down, giving you his full attention. – “The park.” – he informed you.

You got up half confused. Slightly narrowing your eyes at him. – “Where are you going with this?” – you wanted to know. Sherlock started folding letter. – “Nowhere.” – he let on, burning some candlewax to seal the note. You watched him closely. Trying to decipher a hint on his face.

Something that would give himself away. Nothing. Your brother was good in hiding his emotions. Frustrated you groaned and took a turn towards the hallway. You went up the stairs to your bedroom to prepare. Moments later you were meeting up with your brother Sherlock outside of the house.

You took his arm letting him escort you to the park. The weather was quite nice. A soft breeze bristling through the trees. The sun high as it left a warmth on your skin. – “Have you heard anything from Lord Hill?” – you asked when Sherlock nodded at a passing gentleman. – “No.” – he responded placing his hand on yours over his arm. He came to a brief pause. – “Why? Is it something you anticipate?” – he questioned with a raised eyebrow. – “No.” – you answered tugging at his arm to walk again. – “I was simply curious.” – you mumbled turning your head away from him.

To be fair you were a bit curious off his reaction. You did leave him standing alone at the ball. Rejecting him for the entire ton to see. You hoped he didn’t resent you for it. Or perhaps you hoped he might forgive you. Perhaps he was your only chance of getting out of your aunt’s clutches. The thought alone frightened you. Knowing that your aunt would start meddling herself into your life. Marrying you off to anyone suitable enough in her eyes. Take you away from your family for proper etiquettes. Wanting you to be as stiff and stuffy as all the other ladies throwing themselves at any man possible simply because they can’t get any better.

That was not what you wanted. Far from. You wanted to marry for love if it allow itself to you. At this point you didn’t think you were worthy of love anymore. Sherlock must have noticed the self-pity in your eyes as he gave you a nudge with his elbow. Making you look up to his warming smile. It made you smile faintly back, letting your head rest against his shoulder. Sherlock took a deep breath wishing love upon you so hard. If anyone deserved it, it was you.

You lifted your head back up upon arriving at the park. – “Now what are we here for?” – you questioned. Sherlock just smiled. – “A nice walk.” – he responded not pleasing you with his answer. Now it truly felt like he was hiding something from you. – “Sherlock Holmes now I know you are hiding things from me!” – you outed with a stern expression. Sherlock chuckled at your attempt of a motherly scowl. – “I wouldn’t dream of it sister.”

You puffed loud turning your head away. Sherlock led you down the pathway, greeting some people sitting on the benches with a nod. Up ahead you saw a carriage stand in the middle of the road. Sherlock breathed in as his chest rose. He picked up his pace, dragging you along. You tagged along confused as he walked to the side of the carriage. – “Are…are we getting in?” – you asked confused. Sherlock opened the carriage door pushing you inside. At the same time the door on the other side opened as well.

“You are!” – Sherlock spoke as you felt another body bump against yours. Turning your head your eyes widened at the sight of Lord Bridgerton. His eyes equally shocked. You and Anthony each grabbed for the door on your side. Sherlock shut the door firmly almost in your face. – “Sherlock!” – you called out frustrated. – “Mother!” – Anthony shouted at the same time. You turned your head seeing Miss Bridgerton at his side, keeping the door shut just like your brother did.

“Start the carriage!” – Violet called out with a smile. – “Stop the carriage!” – you screamed out wanting to get off. – “Whatever you do, do not stop this carriage till you reach your destination!” – Sherlock made clear to the driver, flipping him a few coins. The driver tipped his hat to Sherlock, signalling the horses to ride off. Anthony and you fell back against the seats as you rode off. With a lot of effort you pulled yourself forwards as the carriage was speeding. Not just a stroll around the park, but almost galloping.

You grabbed for the handle pushing it open as the door swung open. Your body nearly falling over when you stared down at the quick passing gravely road. A pair of hands on your waist. – “Are you insane!?” – Anthony shouted pulling you back inside the carriage. You automatically closed the door once more as your hand was still on the handle. Panting loud you needed a second. – “Did you truly plan on jumping out of a riding carriage just to get away from me?” – Anthony questioned rudely. – “The offer was tempting.” – you responded making him puff loud.

Anthony and you both turned away from each other looking outside of the carriage. It toggled and bumped around as you could barely sit still. – “I cannot believe Sherlock would trick me this much.” – you mumbled under your breath. – “Or mama.” – Anthony breathed out. His head turned slightly to you as you intended the same. Catching each other’s gaze. It locked in tight, unable to look away. In this moment your breathing became heavier. The yearning for him rising up in tide-waves. Each wave more intense than the one before.

Blinking softly it occurred to you what you were doing. How madly in love your eyes must have looked. Anthony reacted the same way pulling away at the same time as you. Both looking away. Taking a deep breath you let yourself slouch back against the seat. – “What is it?” – Anthony asked with care in his voice. No hint of mockery in his tone. You fidgeted with your fingers on your lap. – “The season will come closer to an end than we expect.” – you told him. – “It won’t be long anymore till I have to say goodbye to it all.”

Anthony was slightly confused with shock. He got up coming to sit in front of you. – “What are you referring to?” – he asked. – “Are… are you…” – he spoke barely able to say it out loud. Something inside of him hoping it wouldn’t be the case. – “No.” – you answered with a shake of your head. Anthony exhaled relieved barely seeable to you. – “I am not engaged my lord or will ever be…” – you went on with a saddened expression. Anthony’s expression full of pity as you reminded him of himself in this moment.

You let your eyes fall onto him. – “Perhaps I have taken all the chances at love that I deserve?” – you told him letting your gaze fall briefly onto his lips. Taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from them. – “It doesn’t matter truly for I won’t be able to escape my aunt’s restrictions.” – you continued as Anthony gaped at you. – “Soon you won’t have any trouble of me anymore, my lord.” – you finished.

“By the end of the season I’ll leave to join my aunt where she will groom me to find a match to her liking. It is what has been agreed between my father and her long ago.” – you explained. Anthony took a deep breath with concern. The carriage came to a stop. The glance in his eyes making you scrunch your eyebrows.

The footman opened the door startling you. The moment interrupted as you got out. There you saw your brother waiting for you. You glared at him, storming over to him. Anthony got out numbly. Almost missing his step and stumbling over his own feet. – “Anthony?” – Violet said seeing the sadness in his eyes. – “Sister?” – Sherlock spoke. – “Don’t!” – you made clear wiping your cheek aggressively. He turned to look confused at Violet. It sure must’ve worked right? They had planned it so thoroughly. Violet smiled faintly back at him, moving Anthony closer to her.

With her arm over his shoulder, Violet and Anthony parted ways from Sherlock and you. Sherlock turned round jogging up to you as you had walked off. He didn’t dare to ask how it went upon seeing your distressed reaction. Perhaps it was harder than he expected. To be fair he was very known with the stubbornness of the Holmes’s. The two of you arrived at the estate again. The doorman opening the door to you. – “Do not trick me again!” – was the only thing you said with a loud tone. Sherlock swallowed feeling a bit shameful.

You wanted to storm off to your room when Mycroft appeared from out of the Parlor, clearing his throat nervously. Sherlock stretched his hand out, tapping you gently against the elbow to draw your attention. Mycroft delicately closed the door behind him. – “We… we have a situation.” – he said before you heard the familiar voice of your aunt. Your eyes widened looking frightened at Sherlock. – “Have they arrived?” – you heard her shrill voice come from the Parlor.

The door opened as it bumped against Mycroft’s back making him stumble forwards. Your aunt smiled as wrinkles showed around her eyes and mouth. With open arms she made her way over to you. Sherlock stepping aside to leave room for your aunt to give you an uncomfortable hug. – “Look at you!” – she said unsure to you if it was an insult or not. She tilted your chin up, turning it to the side to have a good look of you. – “I should’ve come sooner.” – she mumbled.

“But!” – she clasped her hands together in delight. – “Tell me Y/n have you found a match yet? Has there been a proposal? Should I expect wedding bells?” – she asked vigorously. – “There has not been.” – you told her honestly. – “Why Y/n the end of the season is nearing. Have you been absent from any balls?” – She turned rudely to your brothers. – “Have there been no gentleman’s offerings? Visits? Interests?” – she wanted to know.

“There…” – Mycroft started. – “There is a gentleman interested… is it not Sherlock?” – Mycroft narrowed his eyes at Sherlock hoping his little scheme of today would be fruitful. Sherlock cleared his throat. – “In the process.” – he answered nervously. He could see Mycroft sigh disappointed and nervous. – “In the process? Sherlock we cannot wait for the process! Y/n must be married off this season to give this family some stability.” – she responded with diplomacy. – “We understand aunt but…” – Mycroft began as he got cut off by her. – “I don’t think you understand well enough!” – she responded bitsy.

“Y/n is running out of time! You shouldn’t have let it come this far. I will not have my niece turn into a hag.” – she finished off. – “Aunt!” – Sherlock called out with a hateful look in his eyes. – “Do not disrespect her!” – he made clear. She simply huffed. She spun back around to you holding her fingers sternly up to you. – “By the end of the season you will come with me and marry the man I offer you!” – she made clear. – “No!” – Mycroft said coming to stand in between. – “Stand aside boy!” – she answered with a hard stare. – “You had your task and failed miserably.” –

Sherlock came joining his brother’s side, blocking you out of her sight. – “You cannot force her to marry out of diplomacy.” – Sherlock outed. – “Oh but I can.” – she answered. You took a deep breath stepping from behind your brothers. They both shook their head knowing you were about to give in. You moved in front of them, curtsying at your aunt. Your aunt smiled proudly. She took you by the wrist. – “Let us have some tea.” – you got pulled back into the Parlor. The second the door shut grabbed your brother Mycroft for Sherlock’s shirt. – “You told me it would work!” – he called out, shaking him around.

“It should’ve!” – Sherlock answered loudly, pushing his hands off. – “I cannot hold her off any longer Sherlock! Our sister is going to be taken away from us in a matter I do not agree upon.” – Mycroft said. Oh how much his character had grown over the months. From a posh man wanting to have you out of his hands to a caring man fighting for his family. – “I will fix it!” – Sherlock replied. – “How? At this rate I don’t see anything happening in the upcoming five years.” – he sighed out letting himself fall exhaustedly against the wall. – “I will figure it out.” – Sherlock said.

The ball was not to your liking. It felt like a goodbye to everything. It felt like the last thing keeping you close to your roots here in London. No intrigued you to join. Standing at the side you watched how everyone socialised. Taking a deep breath you felt out of place. Having no desire or interest in mingling among the people. Perhaps you had already given up. Given up on the last few chances of finding a match. Of finding someone equally to you. Someone you could see yourself love.

Glancing to your right you saw your brothers near. They too had a saddened expression. The ball to no interest to them. It pained you to see them knowing of the trouble they went through. Knowing you had a hand to play in this. Perhaps you have been too stubborn. Too much against it and not willingly. Perhaps… perhaps…Looking back at the dancers you saw Colin Bridgerton amongst them. Colin… Bridgerton.

Your mind went instantly to Anthony. Feeling your chest warm up at the simple thought of him. Not so long ago you saw a future with him. Despite the bickering and competitive you still admired him underneath. Secretly loved how he would provoke you. Send you off into frustration and to your boiling point. Oh how much you loved to get so worked up over him.

Yet it wasn’t meant to be. Your stubbornness had won in flying colours. In need of fresh air you got in motion. Your brother Sherlock wanted to go after you, but Mycroft held him back. Shaking his head in speech of letting you have your space. You made your way through the crowd towards the gardens. Brushing past people to reach the other side. Walking out, you were greeted by a soft breeze. The night sky bright. You made your way over to some bush roses.

Looking up to the sky, you were in deep thought. Anthony had found a way outside. Having almost entirely searched the estate in search. Looking thoroughly and with a destined purpose. Every inch around he wanted to have seen. He neared to the rose bushes that were overgrown like a small forest around the estate.

He turned around, leaning back with furrowed brows. There between the rose bushes he saw his purpose. With determination and without a second thought he made his way over. Finally he had a clear view. A clear view of you. You glanced to the side, having spotted a sudden appearance in the corner of your vision.

Anthony neared looking breathlessly at you. – “Do you still plan on to leave with your aunt?” – he questioned with a mournful expression. – “It is what is intended… for me.” – you responded. – “I am apparently made to save my family from ruin.” – you told him. – “You love your family dearly.” – he spoke coming more over to you. You were looking down fumbling a bit with your dress. – “As much as you love yours.” – you told him without a glance. With a deep breath you finally dared yourself to look up.

Struck instantly by his overwhelming gaze. The brightness in his eyes that could light a fire. – “I was fearful of losing you.” – he confessed with a hard swallow. Admitting his feelings so openly to you felt vulnerable. – “That is why I became… after your accident… I couldn’t…” – he slightly shook his head vowing his words to you. You took a deep breath when Anthony neared more. – “I love you.” – he outed.

“I have loved you from the moment you insulted me.” – taking one more step closer to you. – “I have loved you at every dance, on every walk. Every time we have been together and every time we have been apart. You do not have to accept it or even embrace it but you must know it, in your heart.” – Anthony expressed deeply. He took your hand making you look down at the gesture.

“You must feel it, because I do.” – he pressed his hand onto his chest, staring deeply at you. – “I love you.” – he repeated with all his heart. You scrunched your eyebrow softly at him. – “I don’t not know what to say.” – you told him. – “You don’t have to say anything.” – he answered letting his thumb brush against your hand he was still holding. – “I do not think there is anything else to say… other than I love you too.” – you answered heartily. Anthony exhaled stunned. – “You…” – he breathed out. You lowered your head smiling foolishly at yourself. He looked down taking your other hand in his too.

“I know I am imperfect but I will humble myself before you, because I cannot imagine my life without you and that is why I wish to marry you.” – he spoke with a smile. You returned his smile with one of your own. – “You do know there will not be a day that you shall not vex me.” – you told him teasingly. Anthony let go of your hand allowing his hand to go around your waist to your lower back. – “Is that a promise Y/n Holmes?” – he responded smug. You moved your head closer to his, drawn to him. – “It is a promise.” – you breathed out wanting his lips on yours.

Anthony inhaled deep near your lips, anticipating the moment your lips would touch. – “You are not going anywhere Y/n.” – he whispered to you teasing your lips with the presence of his. You vigorously shook your head moving your hands around his neck. – “I shall not.” – you replied before you forced your lips onto his. An explosion of feelings bursting inside of you. Lips kissing each other with the upmost passion and longing.

Your body being pressed against his, wanting you as deeply as he could. No more you needed to feel saddened. No more you needed to leave. No more you were unloved having finally found your match.

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tulipsforvin · 20 days

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Hi! Can I request a Mycroft Holmes x fem reader? Heavy smut with angst 👉👈

✧ ⚠️: implications of cheating, jealousy, hair pulling kink, degradation kink, oral sex (m!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), marking, handcuffing, possessiveness, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, toxicity, breeding kink, spanking, squirting, mycroft is an asshole—just FILTH.

✧ summary: you and mycroft have an argument, causes you to be petty and flirt around with other men, mycroft gets jealous and fucks you until you're crying.

you'd fucked up. majorly fucked up.

over an argument between the two of you two nights ago, you'd become petty and made perhaps the biggest blunder in your life; clinging onto another man—breasts pressed up against his arm, obvious flirting, teasing caresses, sultry, bedroom glances passed between the other man and you.

the way he practically tracked you down with his immaculate connections reaching out to all and every single part of britain would seem terrifying to anybody else — anybody else but you.

he had eyes everywhere.

which is how you ended up in this situation, on your knees in the dim of the night in his office; almost gagging with how he was pushing your head down the entirety of his long, girthy cock. you gasp for air, making your throat constrict around his cock.

he groans at that; voice rumbly and deep. his intense, dark and almost black eyes stare down at you, watching his length disappear and appear with every back and forth bob of your head.

“that's enough.” mycroft harshly pulls you up by your hair; holding it tight in his grasp. you grunt in pain.

the paperwork on his desk are strewn aside; it was evident he had planned all of this ahead knowing he would be doing this to you. he pushes you down onto his desk, flipping you over so your ass is facing him.

“i didn't realize my wife was such a whore.” his voice is dark besides your ear; causing you to tingle. he's leaning down, chest pressed against your back as his fingers travel south. “so fucking wet,” he whispers.

he pushes your panty to the side with his fingers, lubing his fingers up with your fluids. “you like that, huh? you like being pushed around like a fucking prostitute? such a goddamn slut.”

his middle and ring finger index enter you unannounced and your body jolts up in surprise. “angh—!” you're huffing and panting, fingers digging into the edges of his oak desk. the pace of his fingers are fast, undeniably fast.

“did you let that man do this to you as well?” mycroft's teeth sink into your shoulder and he bites, it's not a gentle, loving bite; it makes you cry out.

he's jealous. it's clear to see on his face; furrowed eyebrows, glaring dark eyes and a tight jaw.

“no—fuuck.” you moan out, feeling his fingers curling up. you were loyal to him, and he knew that, he did; but this mycroft, the current him, was absolutely unreasonable—out of his mind. his mouth leaves hickeys wherever it travels, your neck, your shoulder, the inside of your wrist; everywhere.

the lewd sounds of his fingers smacking into your poor, abused pussy ring around his office. his fingers hit that one spot of yours perfectly, repeatedly.

“wait, mycroft, please! i'm about to-” your mouth falls open into a ragged, animalistic moan when you suddenly hit your high, creaming around his fingers. and he doesn't stop, not even when your nails dig into his arms; drawing blood. he won't let you up, not with his weight pushing you down anyway.

“haah..! mycroft, hnngh..” you're loud, you're screaming. eyes closed, legs trembling, toes curling.

“shut up.” he demands. “fucking shut up.” the dark haired man pulls back, almost ripping the tie off of him. he roughly puts your hands behind your back and uses that very tie of his to tie your hands up.

mycroft's cock lines against your crying pussy and he rubs the tip against your folds, gathering slick, gathering enough lubrication to aid him in pushing his heavy cock inside of you.

“a-ahh!” a sob escapes you at the intrusion, pushing it's way in deep — pushing it's way in hard. mycroft's hands find their positions on your hips and he harshly rams you back and forth against his dick.

his pace is unrelenting and you can only moan out in a mixture of pain and pleasure at his administrations.

“were you moaning for him like this, too? when he was inside you?” he growls, grabbing you by your hair and pulling you back against him to lock your lips together.

“i didn't fuck him—oh!” you whimper when you feel a hand come down on your ass. but he's not really ready to listen.

“you're mine, do you understand?” every time he shifts his hips back right before he slams his cock back in, it hits your cervix just perfectly. over and over, over and over again. and you can't even answer, not with how fast he's fucking you, anyway. you feel knots build up in your stomach and before long, you're cumming around him again; gummy walls clenching down onto him.

mycroft huffs, groaning as you push him to his own orgasm. he shudders when he grabs you by the jaw and turns you around and kisses you roughly, only for you to bite down on his lips enough to break skin and draw blood. “fucking.. bitch...” he grunts in pain.

“i said, do you understand?” he's panting, beads of sweat falling down his forehead. he straightens his back and runs his hand through his dark hair, stray strands sticking to his skin.

“ngh— fuck, yes..!”

but mycroft doesn't stop — not even when he's spurting thick, hot ropes of cum inside of you. “i'm going to.. hngh.. fuck you until i get a baby out of you. until i get you pregnant.” he says. “until the only word on your lips is my name.”

you're almost drooling. “a-aah!” it hurts with how your body is so sensitive right now. every drag of his cock along your wet, sloppy walls makes you whine.

“you're—” thrust “—mine to touch,” thrust “mine to love,” thrust “and mine to ngh.. fuck.”

you're in tears; unsure whether it's due to the pleasure or with how he's treating you. your arms have begin to feel numb with how long it's been tied up behind your back.

“uuhh.. mycroft!” your legs tremble and your knees buckle underneath you. incomprehensible pleads and babbles of his name are the only words that escape your mouth.

this is the strongest orgasm you've felt yet and it's only after mycroft murmurs a quiet, “shit.. look at that. look at you, you're squirting.” when you realize that he's right; you are.

it takes three orgasms from you and two from him for mycroft to finally leave you alone. and then reality finally comes crashing down onto you.

your marriage—can it ever truly be mended again?

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #mycroft holmes smut #mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes x y/n #mycroft holmes x you #mycroft holmes x reader smut #mycroft holmes x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x you #moriarty the patriot x you #Moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader

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himegureisu · 1 month

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4 | the Woman

Summary: There are times when cases need a woman's touch. This is where you finally introduce yourself to your brother-in-law. This is set at the end of S2 E1 A Scandal in Belgravia.

Pairing: Mycroft Holmes x Female Reader

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“There are people we can get into this,” Mycroft said,

“I tested that theory for you. I let Sherlock Holmes try for six months,” she bragged, “Sherlock, dear, tell him what you uncovered through that x-ray of my phone,”

Irene Adler, professionally known as the Woman, a dominatrix of significant influence was obvious. Her only advantage was the fact she was playing against men.

Half a year, the Holmes men stumped at what to do. What a sight, however, it’s best to end their misery.

The Woman hands over her list of requests. However, that’s not going to happen, not on your watch.

“Oh, that’s a shame. Can’t I join in the fun?” you said.

Their eyes shifted as you entered the study in your battledress. Her exchange pauses as you stand behind Mycroft. Your brother-in-law quietly observes and thinks by the fireplace. His head towards the three of you.

“I did hope Sherlock would get this one,” you sighed, as you stretched your hand out to Irene, “May I?”

“Be my guest,” she offered.

“You’re rather transparent,” you twirl the mobile in your hands, “You don’t need a genius to unlock this. Just a woman that understands her kind,”

“Oh, do go on,” she stands, to sit on the edge of the table.

“There are times when women are affected by their interests. Others would say this is a disadvantage. Yours are the Holmes men, specifically, Sherlock. There was no other way to get to Sherlock without committing a crime except in your profession, you could pursue a different avenue,” Your eyes rest on Mycroft as they start to figure it out, “Two birds in one stone. Agitate the older brother, you get the younger. Women play a different kind of dirty and you played a game against men that was your advantage. God, did you pull their strings well but that ends tonight. The psychology of women, gentlemen, is that the most obvious is sometimes the most overlooked,”

“Craving the distraction of the game I sympathize entirely but sentiment?” Sherlock stands, walks over, and reaches out to you for the phone which you finally hand over, “Sentiment is a chemical element found on the losing side,”

Oh, Sherlock how wrong you are on that. Love and sentiment can be an advantage.

“When we first met, you told me that disguise is always a self-portrait,” Sherlock mused, facing the Woman, “How true of you. The combination to your safe, your measurements, but this is far more intimate. This is your heart, and you should never let it rule your head.”

“You just couldn’t resist, could you?” you interjected.

“Everything I said, it wasn’t real,” she whispered, silently pleading to Sherlock, “I was just playing the game,”

“This is just losing,”

I AM SHER LOCKED

“Thank you for the additional information,” he addressed you, “It was enlightening,”

“There you are, brother,” he passes the device to Mycroft, “I hope the contents may make up for any inconvenience I may have caused you tonight,”

“I’m certain they will,” Mycroft assured. His brother started to stare out the window, “If you’re feeling kind, lock her up otherwise let her go,”

Willaim Sherlock Scott Holmes was nearly outsmarted by a woman. What a brilliant turn of events.

It wasn’t long until someone escorted the woman away leaving you to the Holmes men.

“I thought he wouldn’t get it,” you address Mycroft, sitting on the chair he previously occupied to observe Sherlock, “Then again if he knew where to look for the safe code, he would get it eventually,”

“Why are you here?” Mycroft said. You give a look and say, “You know why I’m here,”

“Who are you?” Sherlock asks.

“Do make a deduction, Mr. Holmes,” you challenged, standing up for a better view, “What can you say about me? Oh, I heard you’re quite good at this,”

His eyes quickly take a once over you. To the way you did your hair, makeup, and casual clothes. His brother, your husband, hovered on the other side of the table.

What will Sherlock say about you?

“On your dominant hand, your middle finger is calloused from how you hold your pen, suggesting office worker. In a high position, by the value of your shoes. Your makeup suggests you like to be presentable but not elaborate or gaudy. Your clothes are clean except for a few loose strands of hair. No pets. Your engagement and wedding rings, shiny and clean, happily married then. Your husband is successful in his career by the size of that diamond and…”

His ramble paused. His eyes meeting yours, you give a casual curious gaze. His senses were on overdrive, recognizing the particular scent of leather of a car that often escorted him to his brother.

“No, that’s not possible,” Sherlock withdrew, “Has my brother found himself a goldfish?”

“No, not a goldfish, brother mine,” Mycroft defends. His ring, matching yours, shines in the firelight, “No, she’s out of their league,”

“How long has that taken him?” you asked Mycroft, in front of you as Sherlock remained speechless, “A minute,”

“A good minute, yes,” he confirms, as he goes to stand by your side, “I do wonder why you decided to reveal yourself, my dear,”

“I was fed up. You two dancing in her tune for half the year,” you complained, “You ditched Christmas Morning traditions,”

“I promised to make it up to you, my dear,” Mycroft reminded, however, unable to act on his plans yet, “And I did return earlier than expected,”

“Six years, Myc! We never shirk on trad —”

Before you can finish your ramble, Mycroft leans in and presses his lips against yours in a tender kiss. It was a pleasant interruption.

One Sherlock didn’t appreciate.

Your eyes widen for a moment before you melt against him. Your arms wrap around his waist, returning the sentiment. Sherlock clears his throat, breaking the moment between you and Mycroft.

“Years?” he remarked, “I never knew the Iceman could melt,”

“No, just thaws from time to time,” you cheekily smile at Mycroft who rolled his eyes, “Are you two finished? I’d like to turn in before the sun comes out, ensures at least one of us gets sleep,”

“We are finished,” Mycroft affirmed, walking toward the door, “Do us a reprieve, brother mine, don’t take cases on the weekend. You don’t know what it does to our schedule,”

“It was nice meeting you, brother-in-law,” you teased, your smile caught him off guard, as you walked to Mycroft’s side. He didn’t remember the last time someone was pleased to meet him. They were often annoyed or irritated. “Have a good evening,”

His brother has been married for years, and he didn’t know. How could he not know?

“Shame I’d wanted to see the Woman in cuffs,” you comment, as you walk side by side through the halls, “It would have made for an interesting night,”

“Would you like that, my dear?” Mycroft asks.

“If you’re open to it,”

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#mycroft holmes #mycroft #bbc mycroft #bbc mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft x reader #bbc sherlock #xreader #mycroft holmes x you

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multific · 2 years

Text

First Date

Mycroft Holmes x Reader

Why couldn't he be more like that?

Why couldn't he show his love for you like the others?

Why did he have to be so...smart?

Mycroft claimed he had no emotions, that they were only for the weak but in reality, he had more than anyone else. He had so many fears, doubts and care hidden deep in his heart which he claimed not to have, simply because it was easier.

His heartbreak started off at an early age, in kindergarten, he used to be chubby, but when others started bullying him about it, his self-esteem quickly dropped.

Then in school, he liked a girl, a very pretty and average girl but he liked her. When he asked her out to get ice cream he laughed into his face, claiming he was a freak and moved on.

Leaving Mycroft heart shattered. After that, he just gave up and focused on his studies, and career. He became one of the most important people in Britain if not the one.

And then, many many years later, he met you.

You, a fiery individual who couldn't take no for an answer, you who tormented his brother and later Mycroft himself.

The first time you ever met embedded itself into his mind like a craving on the walls.

You were quick, sassy and very very interested. You were also smart, you followed whatever Sherlock said and understood what he didn't say.

You were, perfection.

And you showed affection and interest towards Mycroft. Flirting blatantly with the man in front of everyone. Saying things one shouldn't even think about in front of others.

Oh yes, Mycroft Holmes liked you very much.

But he was afraid and insecure, so, he kept his distance from you. Or rather, tried to.

But you always found him. And you always knew just what to say.

No matter if he was at Sherlock's or in his office. You would go in, make a comment about how amazing he looks in his suit, inevitably, make Mycroft blush just a tiny bit before continuing with the real reason as to why you were there in the first place.

Yes, you were unhinged, yes, you were brave.

But soon, Mycroft had to realize that he loved you.

He started to look forward to meeting you. He started to wait to have you in his office, he even had your favourite snacks delivered to his office to just give a reason for you to stay a little longer so Mycroft could see and hear you longer.

And to his delight, you fell for his trick and stayed in his office long enough for him to gather all his courage and ask you on a date.

And to his absolute surprise, you not only agreed but you said "Took you forever to ask Myc, of course, I'll go on a date with you! I have been waiting for you to ask for YEARS." or something along the lines.

Mycroft could barely hear anything over his pounding heart.

And the date?

An absolutely amazing experience, not really it was a disaster. Mycroft planned a nice date in an expensive restaurant but he forgot to tell you so you didn't really dress for the occasion. Then, he planned a nice walk in Hyde Park, also didn't work because the weather decided to ruin it all so at last, he got you to his home where he ordered food. He wanted to apologize, but you were so easy-going and kind, you only looked around his house, asking him about everything and anything you could touch or find.

Mycroft was at ease. He talked about the thing he loved the most, his family. Showing you pictures when the food arrived.

Mycroft hoped you didn't find the date as disastrous as he did. And he soon learned that you, did not.

Mycroft thought that not many people have sex on the first date. But he did. And how fucking amazing it was.

You blew his mind, not only were you willing to go on a date, you listened to him talk about his family for hours and then you stayed in his bed all night?

He won the jackpot, he wondered if it was considered too fast to ask you to marry him during your second date.

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