Sherlock also approves of the right spelling xD
I have just written a fanfiction for strawberrrylips ! Please check it out here
Feel free to vote/comment/review!
Anonymous asked: 45 and 46, and I know you do a lot of Mystrade, but... Would you consider writing these for Holmescest?
HELL YES I WOULD! :D I know Mystrade is my main thing, but there are so many ships that I love and would gladly write for. So it’s my default, and they ARE my OTP, but yes! Other ships are great! ^_^ And this is perfect for them, Anon, you nailed it.
45. under the influence and 46. fever
Sherlock was trembling. His body temperature was spiking from one direction to the next, and it was extremely concerning. Pressing his lips together in a thin line, Mycroft stood from where he was crouched next to the sofa and went to retrieve blankets. This was not the first time they had been through this, and he hardly believed it was the last. He knew exactly what all needed to be done.
One day, his brother was going to get himself killed. He insisted he wasn’t a drug addict, but ending up in Mycroft’s flat as he fought withdrawals or potential overdoses told the older Holmes differently. He was worried, and he wish he knew what would actually work. It was one of the only things he was lost on being able to handle.
Their relationship had gotten… strained. Mycroft never realized going away for the last of university and then having to leave the country for his new position in the government would hurt it as badly as it did. He loved his brother, and at one time, his brother had loved him back. But now…
Chewing his bottom lip, he carried a mound of blankets back into the sitting room with him and dropped them on the floor next to the couch. Then, he went into the kitchen to wet a flannel with cold water and get a glass of water for Sherlock to drink. Setting the glass down, he sat on the edge of the couch and pressed the cloth against his brother’s sweating forehead.
The younger Holmes hissed, trying to shrink away from the touch, but Mycroft wouldn’t let him. His body temperature needed to level out. If this did not work, he was taking the shaking man into a cool shower.
"Oh Sherlock, why do you insist on doing this to yourself?" he muttered, brow furrowed as he wiped his face with the cloth. He leaned closer, adjusting the way he was positioned, and in that moment Sherlock opened his unfocused eyes and looked at him.
Mycroft’s heart stuttered when his brother reached out and practically clung to him, drawing himself onto Mycroft’s lap and pressing his face into his chest. He remained frozen for a moment, before setting the cloth down and wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s trembling form, pressing a kiss into those dark curls. It was a habit unbroken, from a time where things were better between them, and he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop loving him.
"It all hurts," Sherlock whispered, his first words in two hours. Mycroft stroked the hair at the base of his neck.
"I know. I’m trying to help," he whispered, kissing his head again.
Sherlock looked up at him, lips pressed in a frown. Mycroft couldn’t stop from reaching to run his thumb across Sherlock’s bottom lip. He watched the younger Holmes’ lips part in the action, instinctual, and it sent the slightest shiver through him. He needed to help Sherlock.
Unable to resist, however, he leaned in and pressed their lips together in a slow kiss. Sherlock whimpered into it, clinging to his suit jacket tightly, pulling himself closer. Mycroft didn’t allow the kiss to linger as much as he truly wanted it to. He cupped Sherlock’s cheek, before pulling him back to lay against him again.
"Just let me help," he whispered, stroking Sherlock’s hair, and slowly, his trembling little brother slipped off into a pained doze.
Also on my bike ride!
I was coasting along and looked over to see a little girl in her backyard, playing with a short tube of cardboard
And I thought, what an unusual choice of toy, until
I’m really happy I caught this little moment as I rode by, what a great. Situation.