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#mycroft holmes x reader
joanquill · 3 months
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Reader as Jack Renfield's Niece Headcanons
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Albert, William, Louis James Moriarty, Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes
A/N: Sorry for the long break and Late Happy New Year!
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You are Jack's niece, and he took you in as a promise to your father when he died in action during the Afghan War.
He ensured you were well-fed, clothed, sleeping in a nice room, and even getting an education at an all-girls boarding school.
And now, you were a successful businesswoman (under a man's name... because, you know... sexism-) with a good heart that Jack is very proud of.
You made sure Jack had a nice retirement, hoping to repay his kindness from years ago.
Until one day, you find out your uncle went out of retirement and became a butler again to the Moriartys.
You've never met them since you were in a boarding school when they came to the Rockwells, but you've heard stories about the three boys from your uncle.
Curious, you decided to pay your dear uncle a surprise visit.
Your sweet family reunion almost became a full-on fistfight when your uncle slammed the door on you.
However, Jack explained how he said he had a nephew instead of a niece due to your business being under a man's name, and it was suspicious how he would receive money and packages from your company.
So now, you were acting as your assistant.
You were introduced to the manor's residents, which was brief as your uncle immediately excused you, walking you back to your place.
And when you left, your uncle made it clear you were engaged... which was a full-blown lie.
But this didn't stop when you continued visiting your uncle, bringing gifts, and catching up with each other through tea.
Because of this, you also got to know the other residents better. Mostly Fred and Moneypenny because Jack would always be by your side when talking to Albert, William, Louis, Bonde, and especially Sebastian... and much to his dismay, you caught the attention of the three brothers.
Suddenly, Jack suggests a new one-on-one training regime with everyone--to sharpen their close combat skills, of course...
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Albert James Moriarty
You're not allowed to drink wine with him alone.
Whether it's just a small chat in the afternoon or long conversations in the evening, Jack always pulls you away before you even get a sip.
It's okay if he or Fred is in the room, but you're not allowed to touch alcohol with any man alone.
Whenever you and Albert meet at some gathering or soiree, you always feel your uncle's eyes on you despite knowing he isn't there.
Jack definitely questions you every time you come home from these social events, especially if he knows Albert was also there.
If you're going to be Albert's plus one, he has to be one of the servers to keep an eye on you.
If not, then you're not going, or Fred and Sebastian have to report to him.
If Albert gives you a gift, Jack makes sure it's appropriate.
And if not, it goes to the trash, and you wouldn't even know it existed in the first place.
You only found out when you caught him shoving perfectly good roses into the trash.
This made it worse when you apologized to Albert and gave him a gift of your own, which was a bottle of vintage wine you got from France.
The moment he offered to drink it with you, to talk about business, of course, Jack immediately slammed the door open and offered to open it, serving you both.
When Albert asks personal questions, such as if you had any suitors or what type of person you like, Jack shuts it down instantly, saying this is unprofessional behavior.
While you and Albert were talking, you noticed your uncle was keeping close to you, slightly pushing your seat away from the oldest Moriarty.
The stab on the wooden table when you and Albert accidentally touched hands didn't go unnoticed either.
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William James Moriarty
The first time he met you, he had an idea you had a deep bond with their beloved instructor.
He made a mental note of Jack's protectiveness over you and concluded to keep his distance, not wanting to face Jack's wrath.
So when you approached him in the department store with a smile, he was taken aback.
As you two were talking and window shopping, he started piecing together your past, how you must have lost your parents at such a young age.
As you two roamed around, he noticed your eyes would linger on a pricey dress on display.
When he suggested asking your fiance to buy it for you, he noticed your confused expression and fibbing about how you didn't want to bother him. (Jack definitely earned an angry lecture from you about how you were suddenly engaged without a ring... let alone a fiance)
Concluding your engagement might be rocky, William decided to buy the dress for you as a gift.
Whenever William caught you wearing the dress he bought, he couldn't help but smile.
This didn't go unnoticed by Jack, who immediately bought you a whole new wardrobe and "accidentally" spilled wine on the dress.
However, this didn't explain the handprints and the obvious spreading of the stain.
After your encounter with William at the department store, you noticed how you two would bump into each other more frequently.
Whether it's the library, stores, museum, gallery, or just in the streets, you would meet William weekly.
Even when you visit your uncle at the manor, William would take some time to talk to you and sometimes spend time with you in the library.
He would even give you suggestions and advice on business when you ask and offer book recommendations he thinks you would enjoy.
And Jack immediately cuts between you two and joins the conversation or moves your seat miles away from the crime consultant.
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Louis James Moriarty
Like William, he quickly noticed Jack's fondness and protectiveness over you and decided not to ask questions since he saw how Jack would get when it came to you, courtesy of Moran asking if you were taken.
Even though he tries to keep some distance between you two, your constant visits with your uncle and attempts to be on good terms with the brothers make it difficult.
At one point, he asks you why you were trying to get closer to them, to which you replied with a confused look.
When you explained how you wanted to know more about the boys who earned Jack's respect and admiration, it caught him off-guard.
After that encounter, Louis' walls slowly started breaking down.
You used to follow your uncle back when he was a butler, acting as his little helper, so you usually spend time with Louis at the manor while helping him with chores.
He didn't want to admit it, but he started buying the types of tea you favored along with the cookies and snacks you would recommend during your visits.
Jack immediately noticed when he saw a cupboard filled to the brim with your favorite drinks and snacks.
And how Louis would always serve you during your visits, showing a soft smile every time you would compliment his brew.
After that, Jack made sure that Louis knew not to make any moves on you, emphasizing that you were engaged.
Much to your dismay, because now you needed to lie on the spot about how great your fiance was whenever they asked about your non-existent fiance.
Seeing how uncomfortable you were when discussing your fiance and how you had to lie to him, Louis now thinks he might be a horrible man, and you're just covering for him.
He tried asking Fred for help getting intel on your fiance, but Jack had already beaten him and asked the boy to lie on your behalf.
When you found out, you immediately apologized to the poor boy and gave him snacks and flowers as an apology.
This doesn't stop Louis from looking after you or Jack trying to keep you away from him.
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Mycroft Holmes
Back then, when you were still starting your business, Mycroft immediately knew your identity.
So, when you two attended the same charity gala, he took the opportunity and made a deal with you.
Since then, he would ensure your identity would never be revealed to the public, and you would give him information or opportunities through your business ties.
However, his random visits were not welcomed. Especially when you had to wake up at three in the morning to let him in your house.
It also didn't help how rumors in high society started to spread about how you were his lover.
You tried to deny those accusations, but Mycroft would just smile and add fuel to the fire, much to your dismay.
What's worse was while you and Mycroft were discussing your new job, Jack decided to pay you a surprise visit to celebrate your birthday.
Explaining why you and a man were in your house alone in a room was definitely something. Luckily, the servants hid the knives in the kitchen just in time.
After explaining, Jack decided to let it go and celebrate your birthday with dinner in your favorite restaurant... away from Mycroft and the prying eyes of his subordinates.
Jack had half a mind to make you stay with him in the manor, even if it meant you were near the Moriarty brothers.
You didn't know why, but Jack decided that you needed a refresher on self-defense and would visit you weekly for lessons.
...and a lesson on the birds and the bees, but you shut that thought immediately.
Since then, Mycroft started teasing about how close you and your uncle were and started planting "gifts" inside your house... as a prank... of course.
So every time before Jack's visits, you and the house servants now have to play a game of scavenger hunt and try to hide them in time.
Explaining to Jack the gift boxes he found filled with your favorite things, ranging from accessories to perfumes from a "secret admirer" almost made your heart stop.
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Sherlock Holmes
Your first meeting was definitely unique, to say the least.
While you were walking home after a long day at work, Sherlock and John were chasing a serial killer on the same street.
The serial killer tried to kill you and buy himself some time. Unfortunately for him, you instinctively and masterfully pinned him down and grabbed his weapon, courtesy of Jack's self-defense lessons.
As the Scotland Yard was arresting the man, Sherlock began questioning you.
Getting deduced as a working-class orphan who's been taken care of by a close family relative who was in the military since a young age was definitely a surprise.
You tried to answer them to the best of your abilities without garnering unwanted attention, but Sherlock could immediately tell you were omitting some things.
Before Sherlock could ask you any more questions, Scotland Yard pulled him away, letting you escape.
You thought you were in the clear, and that was the last time you would ever see them... How wrong you were to see the consulting detective at the entrance of your company the next morning.
Seeing security couldn't contain him, and he was now even visiting you in your home, you decided to bite and answer his remaining questions.
However, even after feeding his curiosity, Sherlock kept visiting you and somehow managed to drag you along to some of his investigations, saying your skills in close combat could come in handy.
This led to you letting out your frustrations to Jack during one of your visits, tired of having Sherlock drag you around all over London.
Sebastian could swear he saw flames burning behind him during your rant as devil horns grew on top of his head.
Unfortunately for him, the great detective was an important pawn in William's plans, so he couldn't directly confront him.
This didn't stop Jack from making it difficult for Sherlock to reach you, though.
You could barely stop yourself from hollering in laughter when you saw Sherlock in front of your house, glaring at you with chicken feathers covering him from head to toe.
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ananiel · 3 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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lilmoonbunny · 4 months
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Denial; Mycroft Holmes
Mycroft only seeked you out to deduce you (aka, how Mycroft realised he liked you).
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John and Sherlock were, without a doubt, the loudest neighbours that Y/N had ever had.
Gunshots at God only knows what hour, constant stabbing, banging, and so on. Despite this, she still considered them dear friends and the best neighbours that she had ever had. Sure, they were weird and loud, but they were also kind and genuine, at least for the most part. Alongside this, they also appreciated her baking, especially after long cases.
A gentle knock sounded on the door the 221B catching the attention of three people.
“You can come in, Y/N,” Sherlock called from behind the door, greeting the woman with a nod before turning his attention back to Mycroft whilst John smiled at her.
“Hi, Sherly. Hi, John.” She smiled at the two friends before turning to the older Holmes brother. “Hi, Mr Holmes.” Y/N greeted him with a smile. Although she hadn’t met him before, it wasn’t difficult to deduce who he was; the expensive suit and the fact Sherlock was glaring at him gave it away.
“Sherly?” Mycroft spat, grimacing at the nickname given to his brother. “Who on Earth would you let call you that?” He asked.
“This is Y/N, our neighbour. What have you brought for us today? I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” The sweet smile Sherlock gave to the woman made Mycroft feel ill. He had no clue who this woman was and absolutely no idea why they seemed to be this close.
“Chocolate cake, sugar cookies, and love.” She joked, beginning to laugh at the way Mycroft audibly gagged. “I’m only kidding. No love.”
“I should certainly hope not,” came Mycroft’s response, one which simply made her laugh again.
“Are you jealous, Mycroft?”
“Because of the cake, he is.” Sherlock interrupted, waving Myrcoft off. “No, I won’t take the case. You can leave now.”
“This is an urgent matter, brother mine.”
“Don’t care.”
With a groan and a roll of his eyes, Mycroft lifted himself to his feet and prepared to leave.
“I’ll leave these with you, just in case you change your mind. Goodbye brother mine. John.” The hesitation was obvious on Mycroft’s face, despite how well he typically hid his emotions, as he faced Y/N.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr Holmes.” Y/N smiled sweetly, earning a simple nod from him before he left.
Sherlock, who had leaned to grab the tub of baked goods from the woman’s hands, rolled his eyes as Mycroft left and immediately began to eat.
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It wasn’t long until Y/N’s entire life had been researched.
There wasn’t much there. No criminal record, a few jobs, occasional moves, but no sign of her posing any danger to Sherlock and, by association, John. However, the way Mycroft felt upon seeing her was unusual, so he decided to do his own investigation.
“Morning, Mr Holmes,” he was greeted before he reached the empty counter. “Welcome to my bakery! Would you like anything?”
“Just a coffee, please. Black.” Mycroft nodded, not returning the smile she had given, despite the odd feeling it gave him. She was evil and he would prove it to Sherlock.
“Coming right up! Take a seat wherever you’d like, and I’ll bring it over.”
As Mycroft occupied a seat, he took a moment to properly assess the woman making his drink.
She didn’t seem threatening: a content smile on her lips as she prepared his coffee, humming a quiet tune that he barely picked up on. In fact, she didn’t seem out of the ordinary at all, but the feeling when he first saw her – a feeling Mycroft couldn’t explain – had him needing to investigate her further.
“Here you go, Mr Holmes.” Y/N said, placing a hot coffee and chocolate cake on the table in front of him. “Sherlock mentioned that you like cake, so I grabbed you some. It’s all on the house.”
“Why?”
With a small laugh, she responded without hesitation. “You’re Sherlock’s brother.”
How odd, Mycroft thought to himself. She doesn’t even know me and she’s giving me things for free…
Despite his thoughts, Mycroft simply nodded, watching as she took a seat opposite him. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s quiet today so I figured I’d try and keep you company the best I can. I’m sure you have better company than me, though.”
“I don’t mind,” he replied before even thinking. It was safe to say that he didn’t enjoy the way his chest felt whilst he watched her smile.
Maybe she’s a witch? No, don’t be stupid, Mycroft. They don’t exist.
“So,” Y/N’s voice broke the man from his thoughts. “It’s a funny story how me, Sherlock, and John met. I was actually working and Sherlock bursts in demanding to talk to me. My baking stuff had been found at a crime scene and he thought it was me!”
“How interesting.” Came Mycroft’s blunt reply, even if he was intrigued.
“You listened to it, so you must care, even just a little bit. I think that’s a win for me!”
Mycroft couldn’t help the tiniest smile that crawled onto his lips, but he internally prayed that nobody noticed it, especially her. She, however, seemed oblivious to the movement, simply staring over his shoulder and out of the window.
“Anyway, what was he like growing up? Was he like he is now? Blunt and rude?” Y/N asked with a giggle.
“He wasn’t, actually. He was rather sweet. He liked playing pretend with his friend; he always wanted a dog too.” Came Mycroft’s reply. “His favourite thing was pirates.” He said with a fond look in his eyes. Sherlock wasn’t going to be happy when he found out that he had told her, but he couldn’t resist answering her question.
Mycroft watched closely as the woman in front of him grinned, the bright and happy smile a nice contrast to what he was used to whilst working with the government. He couldn’t help but smile back, noting how her smile widened further as he did so.
“That’s sweet. I couldn’t imagine that, to be honest,”
It was time to ask the question that was on his mind. “Are you attracted to Sherlock?”
“Sherlock?” Y/N said, bursting into laughter. “No, absolutely not. He’s more like an annoying older brother. Same with John. We’re just friends, and, well, neighbours too.”
Confusion spread over Mycroft as she felt the weight on his shoulders lift at her words; she was telling the truth.
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“How is she?” Sherlock asked the moment he answered the phone.
“How is who?” Mycroft’s voice sounded through the device.
“Y/N,”
“Why do you assume that I know?”
“It’s obvious you were there earlier.”
“…”
“Well, that and Mrs Hudson told us.”
“Of course she did.” Mycroft said with an involuntary roll of his eyes.
“So, how was it?”
“It was fine.”
“You like her then?”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, you went to see her. It’s quite obvious, Mycroft. Come on, I thought you were smarter than that.”
Mycroft simply put the phone down.
He did not like her.
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The next time that Mycroft came across Y/N was when it was raining.
He hadn’t wanted to seem ‘creepy’ by seeking her out again for more investigations and deductions, so he simply waited. She was friends with his brother, it wasn’t like their paths wouldn’t cross at some point. Besides, he didn’t want Sherlock to think that he liked her.
“Raining real bad tonight, isn’t it?” The driver spoke to Mycroft. He was new, so Mycroft couldn’t exactly blame him for attempting some type of conversation with him; it was still annoying, though.
Anthea, looking up from her phone was what caught Mycroft’s attention. “I feel bad for her.” She said, nodding towards a soaked woman. It only took Mycroft a moment to realise who it was.
“Pull over,” he stated bluntly, grabbing his umbrella. He simply ignored the look he was receiving from his assistant.
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It had been a long day filled with rude customers, and to make it worse, it was raining, and she had forgotten her coat. Today couldn’t be going any worse for Y/N.
Shivering wildly and soaked to the core, Y/N huffed, watching the way her breath instantly evaporated; it was clearly below freezing, but she held out hope that the rain would stop and she would be home soon.
Her hope seemed to pay off, though, since she could no longer feel the rain. As she looked up at the sky, she spotted a familiar face.
“Mycroft?”
“Y/N.”
“What are you-“
“Get in.” He said, pointing towards the car before wordlessly leading her towards it, still holding the umbrella above her, even if he was getting wet.
“You don’t have to, Mycroft.” She said as he ushered her in and shut the door behind them both. “I mean, I’m soaking your car!”
Mycroft, who could feel the heat on his cheeks from their proximity, simply shook his head. He was too focused on the way her leg was pressed against his as she sat between him and Anthea who stared at her phone with a small smirk.
The ride was void of conversation, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, the only noise was that of Y/N shivering.
After a moment of hesitation, Mycroft shrugged off his jacket and handed her it. “Here.”
There was no chance of refusal, Mycroft wouldn’t allow it, so with a quiet ‘thanks’, Y/N popped the jacket over her shoulders. He just found the chattering of her teeth annoying, was what he told himself.
As they arrived at the flats, Mycroft followed her out of the car.
“Thank you, Mr Holmes.” She said as they stood on the door of her flat.
“Mycroft is fine, Y/N.”
“Thank you… Mycroft.” She said with a small smile before bidding him a goodnight.
“I see you gave her your jacket,” Was all Sherlock said as Mycroft entered 221B.
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It was hard. Very hard. Harder than anything Y/N had ever experienced. Having a crush was not easy as it was, but having feelings for Mycroft Holmes was the hardest thing in the world: he rarely showed emotion, he was blunt, he was rude, but most importantly to her, deep down, he was nice.
A small sigh left Y/N’s lips as she worked on her latest batch of cookies for the morning. He was on her mind… again. It was a common occurrence by now.
“We’re not open yet, sorry!” She called over her shoulder at the sound of the door opening. As she turned around to see who it was and apologise again, a blush rushed to her cheeks. “Mycroft! What are you doing here?”
Mycroft stood there, umbrella in hand, and gave a simple shrug. “I was on my way to work so thought I would ‘pop in’ as people say.” He explained, earning a laugh from the baker.
“Modern phrases don’t suit you, Mycroft.” She teased.
With an amused shake of his head, Mycroft took a seat at the table nearest her.
“Want some cookies? They’re fresh out of the oven!”
Mycroft nodded with a grateful smile, always glad to have sweet treats. He would never turn down anyone’s desserts, least of all Y/N’s; not because he liked her and didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but because she was a good baker.
The pair sat in a comfortable silence, Mycroft gladly eating his cookies with an appreciative look whilst Y/N worked on her next batch. There was nothing awkward between them, and there, surprisingly, never had been.
“Are you not at work today?” Y/N broke the silence with a question that was bugging her. She could have sworn Mycroft had always worked this time over the months that she had known him.
Mycroft hesitated for a moment. He was supposed to be there right now but had decided to visit you before. It wasn’t like anyone could fire him for it, he was basically the British government, after all.
“Not yet,” he lied, and he was glad that he was a good liar.
“Oh, okay! I’m happy you came then. I don’t want to bother you.”
“You could never be a bother,” the words fell from his lips before he even registered what his thoughts, and he noticed the blush race up her cheeks, as did she with his.
“Thank you, Mycroft.”
As he stared at her and her rosy cheeks, a million thoughts went through his mind, but they were all related to one thing: her. It was in that moment that he realised the truth, he did like Y/N, and he had been attracted to her since the beginning; that was what he was feeling.
Oh dear…
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tulipsforvin · 5 months
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ᥫ᭡. MTP CHARACTERS AS YANDERES
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✧ a/n: my dumbass deleted this request or something. i don't know.. it just kind disappeared so here i am, writing it again. @noregretzfoodieotaku here you go!! 😭
✧ ⚠️: mentions of obsessive behaviour, mentions of gore, stalking.
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MANIPULATION and mind games are a favourite of their's. They twist and turn their words - coating their venomous sentences with honey to hide their true intentions.
“I love you like a grave loves it's corpse; you rot into me while I embrace your decay. Where else would you find somebody like me?”
They are more subtle and discrete than the rest. And yet, they're the most dangerous out of all. They mess with your mind - loosening your screws and bending you to their will.
You shrivel, unsure of how to respond. “I-” You look away, not sure where to direct your gaze. “I can't.. because there's nobody else like you. There won't ever be anyone else like you.”
They tip your chin upwards to meet your gazw, a victorious smile gracing their facial features. “You're correct. You never can.”
They play the role of a god - a saviour, something holy that it seems almost comical to expect something dark out of them. They scheme right under your nose and yet they're completely unnoticeable - so when you're finally their's and in their complete grasp, you won't even be aware of what hit you.
the manipulators: albert j. moriarty, william j. moriarty, mycroft holmes, james bonde, charles augustus milverton.
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STALKING you is like second nature to them. They've memorized your sleeping schedule, when you get in and out of work or your educational institution, the type of food you eat and avoid, the places you frequent, etc.
They're on the more quieter side, similar to the manipulators. Yet, they won't initiate direct contact with you. Atleast not yet.
They watch silently as you move on about your day from the cracks of your doors or your windows, any opening that is accessible for them to get a view of you.
“Oh!” You gasp, bumping into somebody's shoulder as you get out of the subway. “I'm so very sorry! I didn't mean to—”
The figure disappears. You don't remember their face and all you have of them is now a love letter that appeared out of nowhere, the words written in blood.
You'll find remnants of their presence in the place where you live or go to work for/study. Footprints, gifts, shards of glass - etcetera, etcetera. Did they break into your house?
the stalkers: fred porlock, irene adler, zack patterson or zach paterson, billy the kid, von herder.
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DEVOTION is the first word that comes into your mind when you look at them. They obsess over you like canines - clawing and sharp, salivating and perspiring. It's messy.
They find their God in you. For them, ichor runs in your blood and they lick it off your wounds like the nectar the divine consume.
They are the most violent, most agressive and the loudest of the three. They tend to be overprotective and all consuming.
Bodies are slit and stabbed, throats and heads are beheaded and cut, entrails are put up as if they were decorations or stepping stones for the things or lives it took to get to you.
“Nobody,” They begin, wiping away the smudge of blood on their upper lip. “Nobody can seperate you from me. I will crawl back to you from the devil's grasp if you call me.”
the violently devoted: louis j. moriarty, sherlock holmes, sebastian moran, billy the kid(??)
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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William, Louis, Albert, Sherlock, Moran, James, Mycroft and their favorite spots to kiss you at?
Oh! I misunderstood the first time I read it lol, ok no problem Anon!
Pairing: William, Louis, Albert, Sherlock, Moran, James, Mycroft x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, making out, slight groping/fondling, teasing, neck kisses, shoulder kisses
A/N: They all make me swoon so hard!
William likes to kiss you in the living room while the two of you are relaxing after a long day. It's one of the spots he allows himself to be the most vulnerable at. He doesn't particularly care if someone were to walk in and see the two of you, he will give you a kiss regardless.
Louis will kiss you in passing in between chores that he does. He keeps busy a lot during the day so it's really the only time he can kiss you, other then mission and meetings and of course during your alone time at night before you go to sleep.
Albert kisses you only behind closed doors. Well he can kiss your hand during a social event but the real kisses are for you to witness only. He's the kind of man who can get pretty carried away when kissing you and he'd rather not contribute to the inevitable gossip.
Sherlock either kisses you in his office or his bedroom. Any other place and you're more then likely get interrupted by someone. He can't have that, not when he's too busy leaving hickyes and marks down your neck as you squirm against him.
Moran doesn't care where he's kissing you as long as he's kissing you. Everyone knows not to approach and try to pull anything when he's around. He'll kiss you anywhere his lips can reach and hold you against him while cupping your ass to let everyone know that you're his.
James will pull you into a kiss anywhere to surprise you and see you blush and be flustered. He likes being the gentleman of course but he can't deny that you look cute when you're walking hand in hand and he leans over to kiss you, much to the disgruntled gasps and murmurs of the people around you.
Mycroft will kiss you as soon as he comes home from work. No matter where he finds you he'll wrap his arms around you from behind and kiss your neck and shoulder until you're gasping and asking for more.
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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 7 months
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Keeping Quiet (Sherlock & Mycroft X Deaf!Brother!Reader) *PLATONIC
Characters: Sherlock & Mycroft X Deaf!Brother!Reader
Universe: Sherlock
Warnings: Severe bullying, injuries, turf burn, mention of violence
Request: Hi, can I request?, a Holmes brother fic, where reader is their youngest brother who is in high school/university getting bullied bc their disability(mute/deaf) and how their deal with that situation, I kinda want reader to be a ball of sunshine who always smile but are sad inside and although they can see through his smile, they struggle to find a way to help them. 🥺
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Your life from the get go has always been a little harder than other kids your age. For one, you were the youngest Holmes, which wasn’t necessarily a problem, though when you were born your eldest brother had already graduated university, and your other brother was a teenager not far from leaving school. With their own unique personalities, they struggled to connect you immediately, and you didn’t see them much as a young child. However, since starting Secondary school, they had become a bit more involved, especially since you had moved in with your eldest brother so you could attend a good school that was closer to him, however, you were still mostly by yourself, especially since how work driven both your brother’s were. Oh yeah, and the other thing that made your life a little harder- you were deaf. 
A silent world was all you had known since birth, and because of that, you didn’t have to adjust to any change, instead you just learned to do things differently, like when trying to cross a road on a corner, you’d look at those around you to see if they were going to cross, knowing that if the road was clear and they didn’t move, they could hear a car coming. You never had speech therapy growing up, and since when growing up your parents and brothers always communicated with you with sign language, you never used your voice. To you, your hands were your voice, and the thing in your throat that let you make noises was only for dire emergencies to get immediate attention. 
Right now, you were convinced this wasn’t an emergency, but you had the overwhelming urge to just scream as hard as you can. You wanted so badly to be heard, but feared backlash, either from your peers of your issues being perceived as fake or not nowhere near as bad as you felt they were, or backlash from the people who were making you feel like this. 
You’d just gotten home from school, and you entered as quietly as you could, closing the door briskly and looking around, not sure if Mycroft was home, and you didn’t want to see him right now. You closed the front door, looking at the empty coat hook where you’d usually place your coat, except you didn’t have it with you, so instead you just kicked off your shoes and tried to head to your bedroom with your school bag. However, for obvious reasons, you hadn’t heard Mycroft and Sherlock bickering in the other room, or that they had promptly stopped when the front door shut loudly from how quickly you had shut, followed by your footsteps through the house at an accelerated rate to your bedroom, and the noise of your door being shut just as quickly as the front door. The two brothers stood in silence, staring in the direction of the noises before turning to face each other. “Something’s wrong.” Sherlock spoke up. 
“I’m aware of that.” Mycroft scoffed, before they began to walk to go up the stairs. Sherlock stopped at the bottom though, though Mycroft continued up. Sherlock checked the entrance of the house, noticing your lack of coat, either meaning you were still wearing it or didn’t have it, and the droplets of water on the floor, as well as your school shoes being shiny and darker than usual, told him it was the latter. It hadn’t rained in the last hour. He finally followed after Myrcoft, who was already trying your door, though it was locked. He turned to Sherlock, and Sherlock’s eyes followed the wet droplet stains in the carpet to your door. “He’s locked himself inside.” Mycroft pointed out.
“Give me your credit card.” Sherlock demanded. Mycroft went into his back pocket, grabbing his wallet and going through it to hand him a card, before Sherlock shoved him out of the way, sliding the card through the door, pushing the lock out, and when it clicked open, he turned the handle opened the door enough to stick his hand in, reaching for the light switch, flicking the lights on and off in your room to get your attention. He didn’t get a reaction from you. No multiple knocks to signify he could enter, and not a singular knock for him not to come in. He waited another moment, before looking at Mycroft who at this point looked worried, fist pressed to his mouth. Sherlock opened the door further.
They didn’t see you when they first stepped into the room, but Sherlock noticed your school bag- wet through, soaking the carpet, dirty, the zip busted, a strap broken, several school books looking ready to fall out after being crammed in that were soggy and ruined. With that, he knew where you were- the small bathroom attached to your room. He walked to the shut door, trying the door, finding this one unlocked, and he slowly stepped in, looking down and to the side, seeing you sat on the floor, legs pulled to your chest, head resting on your knees. 
“Mycroft, go make tea.” Sherlock said monotone, not taking his eyes away from you. Mcroft, who had noticed your bag and was trying to find anything to salvage, stood up straight, processing the situation, before turning and leaving the room. Sherlock slowly entered the bathroom, kneeling down before sitting on the floor beside you, carefully reaching out, lightly tugging on your soaked and dirty school jumper to get your attention. You peeked up, making eye contact, your eyes red and as wet as your uniform. Sherlock didn’t need to ask what happened, and you didn’t need him going on a revenge campaign in your honour, at least not yet. Instead, he signed ‘I’ll run you a hot bath, and you get undressed. Are you hurt?” You sniffed, signing a yes, before you started to take off your jumper, pulling it over your head, and Sherlock’s eyes immediately took notice of the wet white material that had stains of red on your arms, and as he looked closer, he saw your hands, and presumably your forearms as well were scraped up and red raw. Sherlock took your jumper from you, standing up, before signing to you again. “Drop them just outside the door when you’re done.” He said, turning to the bath, plugging the drain, and turning on the taps, before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.
Mycroft arrived shortly after with a tray, cup of tea and snacks as well, placing it on your bedside table. “What happened?” Mycroft asked. 
“He’s been bullied. I’m not sure what happened, maybe he tried to bring up what was happening or tried to stand up for himself, but it escalated outside of school- his uniform needs to be cleaned and died- where’s your first aid, he’s scraped up as well.” Sherlock listed. Mycroft’s mouth open and closed repeatedly, before he spoke. 
“I-I didn’t know.” He stuttered. “He never… he never told me he was having issues at school. I had no idea.” He explained, and Sherlock frowned. 
“I didn’t know either.” Sherlock added. It wasn’t a lot to say, but it made Mycroft feel so much better. If Sherlock didn’t notice something was wrong until now, then there was practically no way for Mycroft to see either. You hid it, and you hid it well. You hid it from the best. 
“I’ll call the school administration and organise a meeting with them. I’ll find out who did this.” Mycroft decided, reaching out and taking the jumper from Sherlock. “I’ll also get the first aid” he commented, turning and leaving the room again. Sherlock stood in your room, not moving, and he waited until he heard the bath water turn off, the door open, your clothes hit the floor and the door shut again before he turned and went and grabbed the clothes, taking them to be washed with your jumper. Sherlock heard Mycroft on the other side of the house, yelling on the phone about repercussions, demanding a meeting tomorrow, even if it’s the weekend, before his voice became louder, him walking into the same room with Sherlock, wordlessly giving him the first aid before leaving again to continue his argument, and Sherlock headed back upstairs to your room. 
He peeked into your room, seeing you had gotten out, dried off and dressed into your pyjamas, sitting on the edge of your bed. He flashed the lights again to get your attention before stepping in, coming and sitting down on your bedside, carefully taking your hands, rolling up the sleeves to properly see the scrapes and turf burn, which made him wince, imagining the pain in the bath, even though you didn’t make a peep. You didn’t make sound despite the pain, and that really, really bothered him. He wordlessly cleaned them and bandaged them, before signing to you “Are you hurt anywhere else?” You nodded, crawling deeper into the bed so your legs were rested on it, and Sherlock pulled your pant legs up to your knees, seeing even more turf burns, and he copied what he did with your hands, pulling the legs back down when he was done, before he pushed the medical equipment away from him, and waited in front of you till you looked at him. “Why didn’t you tell us?” He signed to you, speaking the words along with it. All he got was a shrug, which Sherlock was not going to accept. “Did they threaten you?” He added. You looked away, before finally signing. 
“It wasn’t too bad. I could handle it, I didn’t want to worry you. But I think someone else reported what they saw and they thought it was me.” You explained to him. 
“So if it wasn’t reported, you hadn’t planned to tell us?” Sherlock questioned. 
“It wasn’t a big deal.” You signed, clearly frustrated, which was paralleled by Sherlock. 
“Well it is now. We’re your brothers, your family. If something bothers you, you tell us, even if you’re annoyed at the way light reflects through a window, or how they’ve changed the packaging on a product in the shops, you tell us. Even if you think it’s harmless or not a big deal, we’d rather you told us about little things instead of hiding things until they become huge things. This is huge now, and we’re going to deal with it.” His signing firm and almost exaggerated. You’d never seen someone yell via sign language, yet here Sherlock was, somehow finding a way to do it, and it was pretty effective. 
“Okay. I’m sorry.” You quickly apologised to try and calm him down, which seemed to work. 
“How long has this been going on? How many of them are there, and what are their names? Tell me everything.” 
A few minutes later, Mycroft finally got off the phone, pacing for a minute to plan his next actions- deciding if he needed to call someone else, or go and check on you, but then Sherlock came into the room, and handed him a piece of paper, with names, examples of what each person did and their role in the attack, and how long it had been going on with a short timeline of other incidents. “I trust this is enough to start with?” Sherlock asked, watching as Mycroft skimmed over it. 
“This has been going on since he started secondary school?” Mycroft questioned, Sherlock briskly nodded, before tapping the paper to make him focus again. “Yes. This is enough. I’ll locate their parents and addresses, gather more information, I’ll have people look into CCTV to see if we can catch any footage of them following, chasing or… attacking him.” Mycroft explained, folding the paper up, before tucking it into his pocket. “How is he?” 
“He’s going to be sore for a while, keep an eye on his injuries- maybe take him to the doctor just to have it on record. He’s not very talkative at the moment, but we really need to get him to start talking to us more about things happening to him. If he’s ever quiet around you, try and engage him and ask about what he’s thinking about, get him out of the habit of keeping everything locked up. Leave the addresses to me. I’ll personally make sure they get the letters about the police investigation when you have it ready.” Sherlock said, walking to the entrance of the house, Mycroft followed him, watching his younger brother grab his coat, swing it around him and put it on. 
“Sherlock, do not threaten them- it’ll not be good for the investigation.” 
“I have no intention of threatening children, Mycroft. But I will make sure the point is put across that those parents have done an awful job and that they shouldn’t have messed with Y/N.” Sherlock promised, before promptly leaving. Mycroft huffed after the door shut, glancing up the stairs, before deciding to make a fresh hot drink for you to get started with a conversation with you.
Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!
*Not my gif
TAGS: @holy-tea-cup-blog @sassy-specter@keenmarvellover @multifandomfix @sleutherclaw @otterly-fey @rebellionofthecattle @hello-love-youre-pretty @werosemagic @courtneychicken  @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe
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Imagine a battle of words with Mycroft Holmes when you arrive to help...
You knew he could be brash and downright awful but, clearly, you had forgotten what it was like to personally hear his verbal onslaught.
‘Perhaps, Enola should be granted some freedom’… that was the simple statement that had thrown Mycroft Holmes into a bind.
“Freedom? Of course you would think that to be a good idea.” The suited man scoffed from where he stood by the shelves. His posture was wrought with unbelievable stress at the knowledge of his sisters upbringing. 
Sherlock had silently taken to the pool table, his mind was likely toiling on the puzzle of their missing mother but you suspected his ear tuned in on the conversation in the room.
“Enola should be conforming to higher societal standards. It’s embarrassing to the family name.” Mycroft carried on and his eyes landed on you. “You might not be aware Y/n but ‘family names’ are incredibly important to be maintained in this day and age. Not everyone has the misfortune to be as careless as you.”
Sometimes you thought Mycroft was decent, maintaining poise and decorum in high positions of power - then he would cast an insult without notice and you remembered why you didn’t enjoy his company.
Quirking a brow, you crossed your arms and stared at the man who threw the accusation. 
“It might be a bit early to test my patience Mycroft when you were the one to consult my services.” You told him bitterly.
“Only upon Sherlock’s insistence. Do you honestly think I would want you involved in a family affair?”
This time, you scoffed.
“It’s incredible to think that you demand respect but refuse to give any.”
The noise by the pool table had gone quiet as the tension between yourself and Mycroft had caught Sherlock’s attention.
Letting out a calm exhale, you took a step back and looked over at the second Holmes brother. “I’m going back to London. I’m not in the habit of working with someone who undermines my worth.” Sherlock sent a curt nod in reply, accepting your leave. “You know where to find me.”
~ More imagines here ~
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forevers-world · 6 months
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A Mycroft Holmes appreciation post.
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What a beautiful specimen of the human race. 👏👏👏
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strangesthirdeye · 1 month
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Mycroft: come on, Y/n. Now it's my turn to take care of you.
Toddler Y/n : *looking at Mycroft while tightly hugging the otter doll complete with coat and wearing a deerstalker and scarf around its neck* No.
Mycroft: what do you mean no, little sis?
Toddler Y/n : no means rejecting or canceling an act or speech that-
Mycroft: I know what 'no' mean, Y/n. *frustrated*
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girl-next-door-writes · 3 months
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Here, There And Everywhere
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Characters: Mycroft Holmes x reader
Summary:  Could the festive spirit finally give Mycroft Holmes the little push he needs to step out of his comfort zone and approach the one person who has captured his attention and possibly his heart?
Word Count: 1365 words
Prompt: Crowded Party, Mutual Pining, Tugging You Closer By Your Waist.
A/N: This is the fourth of my Build-A-Festive-Fics so thank you to the brilliant @russian-soft-bitch who put these prompts together for the wonderful Mycroft Holmes.
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The grand ballroom of the Diogenes Club sparkled with festive decorations, casting a myriad of colors across the polished marble floors. Once a silent sanctuary of solitude, tonight it buzzed with the jovial chaos of the season for the annual Christmas ball, a spectacle not to be missed, not even by the impeccably dressed Mycroft Holmes.
Mycroft lingered along the outskirts of the room, his sharp eyes surveying the revelers. Every detail, no matter how small, was noted and neatly filed away in the recesses of his mind for potential use at a later time. The half-filled champagne flute in his hand and his stern countenance deterred would-be conversationalists, and he couldn't help but appreciate the opulence of the ambiance. Despite the crowd, he remained acutely aware of the exclusivity of this gathering.
The grand ballroom emanated a symphony of sounds, from the melodies of music to the laughter that resonated through the air. The festive scents of evergreen and spiced delicacies wafted around, creating an enticing atmosphere. The stark contrast between the usual solitude of the Diogenes Club and the lively chaos of the Christmas ball was both palpable and intriguing.
Mycroft's thoughts remained inscrutable to others as he navigated the crowd. He was polite but remained rather solitary, his inner awkwardness prevailing. Social gatherings were one of the rare things he felt he did not excel at, no matter how much he may have tried in the past. He was not good at small talk and often missed social cues which left him with a burning sense of embarrassment and inadequacy.
Overhearing snippets of conversations, Mycroft gained insight into the lives and relationships of other guests. The dialogue painted a mosaic of characters, revealing both the mundane and the mysterious that he wished to understand and, occasionally, be part of.
The lavish decorations, a testament to excess and elegance, transformed the ballroom into a visual spectacle. Unique Christmas-themed elements punctuated the opulence, adding a touch of whimsy to the grand affair. Mycroft, despite his seemingly detached demeanor, couldn't help but be captivated by the extravagant surroundings, the festive spirit sneaking in to take root.
Sipping his champagne, Mycroft's gaze gravitated to the far side of the dance floor, and in that moment, time appeared to slow. There you stood, positioned at the periphery, resplendent in your festive attire. The twinkle of Christmas lights cast a soft radiance upon your features, accentuating your captivating presence and drawing him in.
For a man whose heart was said to mirror the stoicism of his demeanor, an unusual occurrence unfolded. Mycroft's heartbeat, once measured and deliberate, now seemed to accelerate at the mere sight of you. He blinked slowly, as if trying to comprehend the unexpected flutter within his chest, a phenomenon which only seemed to occur when he found himself in your presence.
The sounds of conversation faded away, leaving only the joyous melodies of the orchestra, and Mycroft found himself drawn to you like a moth to a flame. His feet on autopilot, took him through the crowd with one sole purpose. As he approached, he couldn’t help but admire the way your eyes sparkled with merriment. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, and he took a deep breath, allowing him to savor the rare moment of respite from the burdens of his responsibilities. In this moment, he was not the embodiment of the British Government, or the responsible older brother, he was simply a man approaching someone he admired deeply.
You observed Mycroft's approach almost as soon as he embarked on the journey toward you. Patiently, you waited until he drew closer, a small but knowing smile gracing your lips as you offered a polite nod.
"Mr. Holmes, I did not expect to see you at a party like this," your tone carried a teasing lilt, and your eyes sparkled as they met his gaze.
Mycroft arched an eyebrow, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. "One must occasionally venture into the chaos of society, if only to maintain appearances," he remarked with dry wit. The comment earned him a light chuckle from you, and in that moment, a flash of pride bloomed in his chest at the unexpected achievement.
"I see. So, for appearances' sake, did you arrive this evening with a companion?" Your gaze gracefully drifted over to the dance floor as you took a sip of your champagne, projecting a nonchalance that was in strict contrast to the curiosity stirring within your heart at such a question.
"I did not," he stated simply, his eyes studying you for any sign of a reaction to that information. "I assume you are someone's guest this evening."
A small, knowing smile played on your lips at his deduction. It was an easy leap to make; the Diogenes was, after all, a gentlemen's club, and with the greatest will in the world, 'gentleman' was not a title you could pull off.
"I am the plus one of Lord Barrington's plus one."
"A plus one of a plus one?"
"Yes. Lady Barrington was concerned her husband would be too busy discussing business to keep her entertained, and so I am here as her companion, although the two of them have yet to leave the dance floor. They look like a pair of honeymooners, very much in love, even after forty years together," you shared with a touch of warmth in your voice, your gaze following the couple as they twirled gracefully on the dance floor.
Mycroft's gaze lingered on the Barringtons, his keen observation capturing the nuances of their dance. "An impressive feat," he mused, the faintest hint of nostalgia crossing his features.
"One worth aspiring to," you responded, a subtle warmth in your tone that resonated with Mycroft's unspoken sentiments. His gaze shifted from the happy couple back to you, his usually stoic expression softening slightly as he found himself silently agreeing.
"Would you like to dance?" The words had escaped him before he fully processed the thought, his eyes widening as he weighed the possibility of the potential humiliation—whether it be from you rejecting his offer or discovering him to be a less-than-agreeable dance partner.
“I would love to, thank you, Mycroft,” you replied, your acceptance lifting the weight of uncertainty from his shoulders. Taking your champagne flute, he placed it alongside his on the nearest table and offered his arm. If he was going to do this, he decided, then he would focus and, at the very least, prove himself a competent dance partner.
Concentrating turned out to be a far more challenging task than Mycroft had anticipated once he led you onto the dance floor and held you in his arms. Swallowing thickly, he found himself looking at his feet, attempting to recall how to lead without inadvertently stepping on your toes as the two of you swayed to the music.
You gazed up at him, finding this nervous and uncertain side of him endearing. A question lingered in your mind—was it the act of dancing itself or your presence that had this effect on him?
“Relax, Mycroft. It's just a dance. I've been led to believe you're rather good at such things,” you teased lightly.
“I have?” He raised his gaze to meet yours, genuine surprise evident in his eyes.
“Rumor has it you dance rings around most of the people you encounter.”
“Ah, well, there is a very large difference between verbal tapdancing and physically doing so.” He said dryly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
“Luckily, this is more of a waltz.”
“Perhaps,” he chuckled, using the hand resting on your waist to pull you closer.
Mycroft could never accurately gauge how long the two of you remained lost in your dance. Time seemed to lose its grip as you stayed in his arms, the music guiding your movements until it came to an end for the evening. The once-crowded space had now thinned out, leaving the two of you as the sole occupants on the dance floor. Even then, he was reluctant to let you go, and the two of you continued to sway silently to the music only you could hear.
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specialagentlokitty · 8 months
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Mycroft x reader - reminder
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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
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joanquill · 1 month
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"Wanna go dance?"
May you make this with Mycroft, please? romantic relationship fluff)
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Mycroft Holmes
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"(Y/N), do you remember the favor you owe me?" Mycroft asked as you entered his home office, making you look at him skeptically across the desk.
"Yeah...? Why?" you questioned as he gave you an open letter.
"I believe I will be using it for this," he explained as you read the letter.
"You're going to a Valentine's dance?" you questioned with a chuckle, scanning the letter invitation addressed to Mycroft as he wryly smiled and stood up from his seat.
"Yes... And they require us to bring a plus one," he added, taking the invitation from your hands and sitting back down.
"Great! I'm sure we can find someone in no time," you supported, earning a raised brow from Mycroft as he looked at you.
"I already have," he smirked, making you furrow your brows as he gave you a knowing look.
"...No,"
"It will be quick,"
"No,"
"You won't even need to do anything,"
"No!" you kept rejecting, but Mycroft ignored your replies as he fixed his papers.
"I'm sure there's a lot of noble ladies waiting for you to ask them to the dance," you reasoned, making him sigh.
"And yet, you're the only one I'm asking," he replied, making you huff.
"Why...?" Mycroft breathed out a smile at your question,
"Because you owe me, remember?" he deadpanned with a sarcastic smile, making you groan.
"Yeah, yeah..." you sighed, scratching your head as you tried to think of an alternative solution.
As Mycroft watched you ponder, he let out a sigh.
"I understand this is not your usual scene, but I do not understand why-"
"-I don't know how to dance..." you sheepishly said, avoiding his gaze.
"Yeah... So," you clapped your hands, "Why don't we try looking for-"
"-I can teach you," Mycroft smiled, making you freeze.
"What?"
"I can teach you," he repeated, getting up from his seat and walking towards you.
"We should be done in... two weeks or so," he muttered, observing you.
"Wouldn't it be easier to find someone else suitable?"
"And who would that be?" he challenged, making you purse your lips as no name came to mind.
"...Why is your social circle so small?" you sighed, making him chuckle.
"All the more precious you are to me, my dear," he teased as he gently pulled your chin to face him, making your face burn red as you pulled away.
"Use those words to woo some woman instead of me! Honestly, your mother has been asking me when you and Sherlock are gonna give her grandchildren..." you scolded as you walked off, making him lightly laugh as he followed you out.
"How are they? Mother and father," he asked as he followed you to the entrance.
"They're good... Been waiting for you and Sherlock to visit, though," you added, making him chuckle.
"Duly noted,"
"Oh, and do me a favor," you tapped your shoes as you grabbed your coat, "Tell Mrs. Holmes we're just friends? She doesn't believe me when I say so," you tiredly sighed, making Mycroft sadly smile.
"...I'll see what I can do," he replied, putting on your hat and patting your head.
"Then, when do you wanna go dance? For practice," you asked as you adjusted your hat.
"You can come visit here whenever you are free to practice," he reassured, making you huff.
"All right... But don't go crying to me when your toes are bleeding after," you warned as you walked out, waving goodbye to Mycroft.
"I will mail you the medical bill," he retorted, waving goodbye as he watched you walk home, letting out a breath.
"Perhaps confirming Mother's suspicions was a mistake..."
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ananiel · 4 months
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What if You were the snake in the grass of their world?
Talking about this "snake in the grass" saying. It's the fact that usually, all the snakes You find on fields aren't poisonous and usually harmless, more afraid of You then You are of them. But there is a very poisonous species of snakes that hides around fields and is said to have a poison strong enough to kill an adult in less then 30 seconds after the bite
So think of it, a snake in general brings fright to people because hey, it looks weird and scary. People usually don't care if it is poisonous or not. They just run away and don't look back, saying that it is better to be safe then sorry
So thinking of it. What if You come from a misterious family. One that is known for being linked to many murders and / or felonies as a whole.
Yet, your family had always an excuse or turned out to have an aliby that held them out of this acusations. Even if they had witnesses to prove that they were part of it, they never got caught
So that's when You come along. A young individual, one that doesn't seem to have bite in them at all. A quiet and shy person or a loud but inocent one.
They see You and think of You being weak, harmless, but knowing the rumours that your family is surounded with, they are still very carefull around You
Even if the cruelty doesn't run on the surface like the rest of your family, You are still very misterious yourself
Not many know anything about You, somehow, no matter to who you speak, they become more clueless then they were before after they spoke to You.
But what if there are more layers to your personality, what if You wait until they are close of You and then You attack? What if You act weak just to get their guard down for You to strike better?
What if the cruel and calculated individual is the real You. What if the real You is ready to kill and hurt anyone to get their way?
What if You are the true villain of the story they are in ? What if You truly are the snake behind it all?
And what if they get addicted to your poison? What if they get addicted to the sharp toungue of yours? What if they are ready to die to have You in their arms?
Imagine the irony, they watched as many fawned over them, not knowing their true intensions, only for them to fawn over You, but them knowing who you truly are and what You do
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Last Updated: 2023-11-07
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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.
Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning
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✑ 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."
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✑ 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〕 • ♥︎ •
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✑ Dating Mycroft would incude... by lacelynpage • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Dating Mycroft would include... by raggedy-dxctor • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
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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 |
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Burst of Color
Based on this request: Oh! Could we get a Mycroft Soulmate AU (fem!reader) but like Enemies-to-Lovers style? Soulmate Trope of first touch, world burst into color kind of thing?
Here you are! I apologize for the wait! *Familiar characters are NEVER mine!*
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Warnings: Soulmate AU, Enemies-to-Lovers, Trapped Together, Angsty, slight fluff?
Pairings/Characters: Mycroft Holmes x fem!reader, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson.
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Mycroft Holmes was cynical about quite a bit in life, but none so much as the idea of soulmates. The fact that one solitary touch could bind you to someone forever was utterly ridiculous. The idea of being so…enamored with someone simply because fate decided to put two people together was merely another waste of time by Mycroft's thinking. And what if that one person happens to be someone you cannot stand? Such as Mycroft and you.
          It wasn't that Mycroft hated you, exactly. He wouldn't waste time on such a thing. But the two of you often got on like oil and water. Two clashing personalities. You were merely another goldfish in a large school of them and Mycroft knew for a fact that you found him quite a "pompous arse". Those had been your exact words to him. If debating with you didn't thrill him so much, Mycroft would never interact with you at all. At least that's what he told himself until the day Sherlock requested his help with a case. And yours.
          "Why did I agree to this again?" you asked when Sherlock escorted both you and Mycroft to the crime scene. Or what he told you was a crime scene. "You agreed due to your insatiable curiosity, Y/N," Sherlock replied to your grumbled question. You rolled your eyes as Mycroft let you enter the room after Sherlock. "And because you didn't tell me your brother would be here," you muttered to Sherlock when you caught up to him. Sherlock didn't reply, instead choosing to head into another small room.
          Just outside the door, Sherlock stopped and gestured for you and Mycroft to enter first. "Sherlock, what is this?" Mycroft asked, testily. The older Holmes' answer came in the form of the door closing and locking behind you. You raced forward and tried the door. "Sherlock? Open the door!" you growled out. "I don't believe I will," came Sherlock's annoyingly smooth voice from the other side. You turned and gestured to Mycroft as if to say, "Will you do something about this?"
          "I'm afraid there is no reasoning with Sherlock once he's set his mind to something." You groaned a bit and mumbled something under your breath. Mycroft took notice of your body language. Contrary to how you were speaking, you weren't angry. Mycroft could tell. In fact, you seemed almost…nervous.
          "Any idea as to why your brother locked us in here?" you asked after a moment. Mycroft paused to think, only for another voice to float through the door. "We're tired of the two of you whingeing about one another! So you'll be locked until you can speak to each other without fighting or complaining."
          "Quite a brilliant idea from Watson, truly," Sherlock added to Watson's order. You took a deep breath and looked ready to ram the door down if necessary. "No need to be dramatic, Y/N," Mycroft said smoothly as he adjusted this tie.  You glared at him but opted to stay quiet this time. Instead, you took to pacing the room as your mind tried to work out a way to escape your current prison with the elder Holmes brother. Mycroft watched your grey form walk back and forth across the floor, your brows furrowed in concentration. It was actually quite adorable.
          "Do believe your incessant pacing will free us?" he asked, earning another glare from you. You stopped in front of him with your hands on your hips. "I don't see you doing anything to help," you retorted. Mycroft merely scoffed. "Sherlock and Doctor Watson will eventually grow tired of their game and will open the door. All we need to do is bide our time."
          For some reason, Mycroft's words seemed to anger you further. "Can you stop being so damn calm and calculated for once?! Show a little emotion, Mycroft. Your own brother is playing games with you. You can't tell me that doesn't annoy you at least a little." Mycroft let out a little laugh.
          "My dear, I am always annoyed with Sherlock in one way or another. You simply grow used to his antics and learn that it is best to let some things lie." You shook your head and turned to begin pacing yet again. "I just don't understand you Holmes men. I mean, really how-" Your sentence was cut short by you tripping over your own two feet. As if on instinct, Mycroft's arm shot out so he could grab you before your face could hit the floor. The moment his hand made contact, however, he nearly let you fall anyway.
          Where the world had been varying shades of grey before, it was now filled with colors so brilliant and vibrant, Mycroft almost needed to close his eyes against them. After a split second, he glanced down at you to find your eyes screwed shut like you were still anticipating your body landing on the floor.
          "Open your eyes," Mycroft ordered softly. You did and gasped when, Mycroft assumed, you saw your world was now in color too. Mycroft helped you to you to stand up straight. You let your eyes wander the room for a moment before they landed on Mycroft yet again. The two of you stared at one another for what felt like hours, just taking everything in.
          "This is…quite unexpected," Mycroft finally managed to say. You laughed softly. "That's a understatement. Of all the people, I never would have guessed you would be my soulmate. After all, I'm simply a goldfish, right?" Mycroft sighed, wishing he had cigarette right then and there.  "My dear Y/N…" You shook your head and stepped further away from him. "No. You hate me. I hate you. That dynamic works for us. It always has. This-This," you cut off with a sigh as tears formed in your eyes. "It's wrong," you managed to say after a moment.
          "And yet, it seems, it is true. You and I are soulmates," Mycroft finished your thought. You rolled your eyes. "You don't do attachment or sentiment, Mycroft. I crave it." You moved to try the door again. You needed to get out of there before you really did begin crying in front of Mycroft.
          "Y/N, have you ever taken a moment to consider that, perhaps, I have hidden the depths of my own emotions to shield myself from those around me that may hurt me? Contrary to your beliefs, I do in fact feel very deeply and while we do not often get along, I do not hate you. Knowing what I now do, I imagine it might well be impossible for me to do so."
          "But could you love me? Even platonically? I mean, really love me despite all my flaws?" you questioned intently. When Mycroft didn't answer, you nodded to yourself before approaching the door again. "Think about it, Mycroft. Take time and really think about what your heart is capable of when it comes to me. I'll do the same then we'll speak again."
          Mycroft watched as you knocked on the door again. "Sherlock. Please," you pleaded just loudly enough for the younger Holmes to hear. "I can." You froze at Mycroft's soft words, "I can love you. I am not an easy man to get along with, let alone to love, but you make me feel things I did not think possible. I fooled myself into believing that I didn’t want or need a soulmate. But I confess my life would be rather dull and lifeless without you in it."          
For a moment, you stayed silent. Then, a ghost of a smile appeared on your lips. "Thank you, Mycroft. I-I suppose there are worse people I could have as my soulmate. Sherlock comes to mind." Mycroft tried not to smile. Really he did, but he couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped his lips.
(a/n: I hope you like it! I'm a sucker for a Soulmate AU with as many tropes shoved in that makes sense as possible.)
Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @supernatural4life2022
Fandom Tags are OPEN!
Mycroft Holmes Tags: @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek
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angelltheninth · 1 year
Text
Bride and Joy
Pairing: Mycroft Holmes x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, breeding kink, interrogation, dirty talk, name-calling, rough sex, creampie, table sex, oral fingering, cnc roleplay, roleplay, dark Mycroft Holmes
Word count: 2k
Kinktober Day 8: Breeding Kink
A/N: Mycroft seems like one of these people who would be extremely possessive of his lover so that's the angle I'm taking here. I'm glad to see people requesting all the pretty Yuumori men for kinktober.
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You already knew it was all over for you. You got caught, detained and placed within an interrogation cell waiting for who ever the set on you. Betraying the Queen is no small crime after all.
The room door opened and a tall man in a black suit and a cigar walked in. You knew him to be Mycroft Holmes, one of the Queens best and most trusted men. And the most ruthless.
"Well you got yourself in quite a bind there haven't you little missy?" He took a drag of his cigar as he walked to where you sat and placed the file on the table in front of you, exhaling the smoke as he did so. "Stealing documents, forging signatures, weapon smuggling and a plot against the Royal family. You've been quite busy haven't you?"
You narrowed your eyes and clenched your fists, "If you know all of that already then why am I here? You've got your evidence, why not charge me with treason and be done with it?"
Mycroft chuckled, closing the file and tapping his index finger on it, "That's certainly an option." He took another drag before he put the cigarette out, "But we could use someone of your talents. Of course you'd still be under our surveillance but you'd still be a free woman. In some ways at least. I haven't spoken to her Majesty yet but I'm certain she would agree. I only need you to say yes to marrying me."
He looked at you like it was the most obvious solution to your problem. You on the other hand looked at him like he had just lost his mind. "Excuse me? Why would I do such a thing?" You felt his gaze sharpen as a blush spread across your face.
"No one would ever agree to let you roam free without supervision. I'm afraid not even I could negotiate that. But if I were to take you as my wife, well it would grant you a certain favor and immunity as a spy." He walked around the small table and grabbed your chin, his eyes staring into yours, "Surely you're aware of how beautiful you are. You would make a fine wife. And..." His fingers trail lightly across your throat and across your side, making you shiver, "A fine mother I'm sure."
His smile widened as his fingers started to skim the edge of your shirt, giving the barest hint of touch on your thigh. You gulped under his gaze, feeling like an a small animal looking at their predator. Both fear and adrenaline rush though you as you stammer out, "W-What? But I'm... I don't think this is a good idea."
"No? Any why not? You get a pardon, you get to keep your job, you get a nice husband. I promise to treat you right and love you for as long as we're together." Although his word was meant to be comforting you could sense a darkness behind them. "I will make you feel so good. Just give yourself to me my sweet."
A high gasp tore from your throat when you felt his fingers rubbing you through your panties.
"H-Hold on. This isn't right. We shouldn't be doing this. I don't even know you." His eyes softened for a moment, his lips closing in on yours.
"Oh you will. We'll get very familiar with each other." Mycroft pushed his lips against yours, they were softer than you expected but his tongue was quick to remind of you how rough he could be, pushing past your lips, swallowing your little soft moan and brushing against your tongue. "You're getting wet already. Are you sure you don't want me?"
"You're my enemy. I shouldn't..." Hi moved your panties to the side and moved two fingers up and down in a slow manner, spreading the wetness evenly before pushing them both inside with no warning. You screamed at the intrusion and buried your head in his chest to muffle your moans, fisting your hands into his suit, "God." You whimpered and shifted in your seat as he moved his fingers in and out, taking them out all the way to the tip and then burring them all the way to the end.
"You're beginning to loosen up. If you're already this wet I can't even imagine what you're gonna feel like around my cock." He took your hand in his placed it over his bulge. The cock throbbed under your touch, warm even though the material of his pants, "See how hard I am already? That's all for you. All for this cunt."
Upon hearing the possessive growl in his voice you couldn't help but spread your legs. He paused for just a moment and then laughed.
"Well would you look at that. Little whore wants it now does she? That didn't take long. You need to make it for fun for me miss." He slid his fingers out, pulling your panties off in the process. "Start by cleaning these for me."
He offers you his fingers, still looking rough even while covered in your juices. When you didn't immediately go for his fingers you heard him scoff next to your ear as he pushed them against your lips, "I told you to suck. You need to follow my orders to the letter if you want this to work out for you." You let out a whimper as you open your mouth for him, allowing him to slide his fingers in and fuck your throat, "Good girl. You'll learn fast don't worry. I'll make you into my little cockslut before you know it."
You moaned around his fingers at his words, a fresh flood of wetness gathering below as you start bucking your hips forward, clouding your senses, "Please, I can't..."
"Beg. Beg me to fuck you. Tell me you're a horny slut who wants to be breed. Say it." He was very rough when taking his fingers out and grabbing your chin with his still wet hands, "Well?"
It was embarrassing how easily you were being broken by him. How easily he managed to get to you just by using his words and fingers. How badly you wanted it. Wanted him. "I'm a horny slut... who wants to be breed." Mycroft grinned, wide and pleased at your confession.
"Interesting. I wasn't being serious with that one but it's nice to hear you admit to it." Another blush spread across your face and down you neck, "Well how can I refuse my future wife." He gave you a brief kiss, humming at your the lingering taste on your tongue. He chuckled as he tapped your cheek lightly and turned to give you some room. You could hear him unbuckling his belt. "Why don't you bend over and present for me, I want a good look at you."
You gulped in anticipation as you stood up on shaky legs, your slick running down your thighs and dripping onto the floor. You felt like you're in heat, ready to be taken and fucked. That feeling only intensified when Mycroft turned around and lets you see his hard dick, standing tall between his legs with his hand at the base. Your cunt pulsed with need to be filled and stretched open by it. Maybe you were just a bitch in heat after all.
And like a good bitch you presented yourself for him, bending over the edge of the table and hiking up your shirt, revealing your cunt and your ass. But not before getting a glimpse of his muscular body as he undid his bowtie and started undoing the buttons on his shirt.
"What a lovely sight you are. So ready for me." You hear his footsteps approaching followed quickly by his hand smoothing over your left ass cheek before gripping your hip in a tight, sure to bruise grip. "Are you ready for my cock?"
"Yes." You breathed out, even catching yourself off guard with how needy and breathless you sounded.
"And have you earned it? Do you promise to be a good whore for me whenever I ask? To get on your knees and suck my cock at the snap of my fingers." He leaned over to snap them next to your ear as the tip of his cock nudged at your opening.
"I promise. I'll be good. I'll be so good." Mycroft laughed at your eagerness, pushing his fingers into your mouth as he tilted your head a little for easier access. "Fuck. Fuck me. Please, please, please." You could barely talk with your mouth sucking on his fingers but you wanted it so much that you don't care how desperate you were.
When he finally does slide in you don't care that this was supposed to be an interrogation, that he's your enemy, that he basically blackmailed you into marrying him, all you care about his how his cock fills you up over and over.
"You take me so nicely. You were made for me weren't you. Just for me and my cock. I'll fuck you every day I can promise you that, breed you like you need to be bred. You're gonna look so pretty when you're full of my cum you little slut. My pretty cumslut." He thrust his hips into yours, his fingers playing in your mouth, dragging them over the flat of your tongue.
You whimpered and moaned for him, bucking your hips backwards, your wet cunt clenching around his throbbing dick, making him hum and go harder and faster at every jolt of his hips. The room was filled with wet, needy, lewd sounds of him fucking two of your holes at the same time, your moans muffled but still very audible.
He was ruthless in his pace, shoving his cock as deep as it could go, dragging along your front wall every time he pulled out. You were starting to get dizzy with pleasure, your cunt so full yet so empty. You needed more. You needed him to fill you up properly.
"Please come. Please. Fill me up." You struggled to talk around his fingers, your words barely coherent.
"What ever you say sweetheart." He was so amused by the state he's brought you to that he decided to have mercy and give you want you wanted, "But you're gonna have to come first." He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and once again places them next to your ear, "Ready?"
You nodded, not trusting your voice. You heard his fingers snap next to your ear, and something snapped inside you as well, a flood heat rushing though you as you bucked your hips wildly and came all over his cock.
"Good slut. So good for me. So damn good." In one last, hard thrust he buried his dick deep inside of you and flooded your womb with his cum, his hips twitching as he groans through his release, your name falling from his lips as he leans over you. You both took deep breaths to relax your bodies and let the combined pleasure flow through you, "Did you enjoy that my love?"
"Fuck Mycroft. I mean just... holy shit." You breathed out hard at which he lets out a slow chuckle.
"That good I see. I'm glad. Thank you for indulging me in this. And for the suggestion to roleplay. I bet it would have been fun to break you." His lips skimmed the area of your neck, pressing slow kisses as you relax under him, "Do you want to stay like this a little? And don't worry about anyone walking in on us. I made sure we have more than enough time. Maybe even for a round two if you feel like it."
"Hell yes." You squeezed around him as he pulled you back against his chest and took a seat on the chair, his cock comfortably snug inside of you, keeping most of his cum inside. "How about we try for a round three after we get home?"
He laughed loud against your neck, "Are you taking the roleplay seriously? You don't actually need to take my cock all the time."
"No. But what if I want to?" You rolled and pushed your hips downward, feeling him twitch inside you.
"Then who am I to say no to my wife." With a soft touch he turned your head towards him to give you the sweetest kiss of the day, but not the last.
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