// GHOSTSOAP X Sailor Song! (🔊 ON ) // Suggestive Imagery ⚠⚠⚠ Individual Panels:

Louis: Brother...am I ugly?

William: Nonsense. I'm looking at you right now you're the most beautiful boy in the world.

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Sherlock: Brother, am I ugly?

Mycroft, without looking up: Very much.

Can we get a sequel to your ‘Selfish’ pricegravesnik? I just really want to see how that goes over

Part two has been sitting for awhile collecting dust due to ✨life✨ distracting me (I started working on part two after I posted the first part, lol). This is split up into multiple chapters on AO3 which is why it was posted on there first

___

Selfish

Part 2

PriceGravesNik

___

Graves first noticed how clear his lungs felt, the loudness of machines around him, then voices on the other side of those machines. Then he noticed the brightness of the room, it made him wince and squeeze his eyes tight to block out the light. After a moment, he cracked his eyes open. It takes a lot of blinking until his eyes adjust but he finally looks around the room. He recognized as one of the rooms in the medical wing. Graves swallowed and became very aware that there was something down his throat and he felt himself start to panic.

"дорогой!"

Graves looks over and sees Nik running from the door. He's kneeling by the bed, one hand running through Graves' hair while the other grabs his hand. Graves could see his eyes full of relief.

"Easy, дорогой. The tube is putting air into your lungs. Oh, зайчик... We were so worried."

Graves slowly calms as Nik holds up his hand and presses several kisses to it. Graves squeezed as hard as he could (which wasn't very hard) as Nik smiled against his hand, holding it against his cheek. Graves looks past Nik to the door and Nik notices. He looks behind him before looking to Graves.

"John was talking to the doctor. Wanted to make sure everything was alright. I'll go get him, okay?"

Graves didn't have much strength to do much but nod. Nik kisses his hand again before he lets it drop to the bed. He leaves and Graves just stares after him, mind fuzzy. He didn't want to think about what lead him to getting in here. He really didn't. Graves knew the moment he started to think about it, the moment he relived what happened, he would start to panic again. And he didn't want to panic with a tube down his throat. So he just closes his eyes and thinks about Nik. Thinks about how delighted he was to see him, how warm his kisses were and how Graves ached for more.

"Love!"

Graves opens his eyes and Price is there. The man doesn't hesitate to lean over and press kisses to the parts of his face that wasn't covered by the ventilation mask. Price swallows hard as he rests his forehead against his.

"God, when they brought you in- Fuck... I was so scared."

"We both were," Nik said from the other side of the bed.

Graves' heart was aching, tears welling up in his eyes. Price pulls away, stroking Graves' face so lightly. It was as if he was afraid Graves would break. Price stands when someone walks in, Graves assumed it was the doctor because of the white coat. Price turns to address the doctor, Graves turning to look at Nik who was sitting on the side of the bed. The doctor steps towards the bed and Graves turns to look at him.

"Alright, Phillip. Let's have a look at you."

_

After a thorough checkup and another night in medical, the doctor allowed Graves to leave and sleep in his own bed... with heavy work restrictions and an inhaler that he had to take a puff of every couple of hours until his lungs recovered. Graves had walked outside of medical and headed straight for his room. Not Nik and Price's room, his. He hadn't slept there since he started dating Nik and Price and the room was pretty much only used to store his things.

But he wanted to be alone. Just for a moment at least. He knew that it wouldn't take long until one or both of his boyfriends sought him out after learning he was released from medical earlier than what they were originally told.

Graves refused to look at anyone, making sure to make his way to his room as fast as possible without pushing himself. He could feel eyes on him as he walked through the halls. Graves reached the barracks and froze when he saw Soap and Gaz talking near his room. He swallows and ducks behind a corner, taking a moment to breathe. He didn't want to deal with them, Graves was sure he wouldn't be able to mentally handle it. Graves leans against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut.

I should just go back to Nik and John's room...

They were going to find him there and undoubtedly attempt to question him about what happened. Graves couldn't tell them what happened, what was going through his mind as he tried to run. It would just stir up more trouble for him and everyone already hated his guts. He couldn't do it...

Graves takes a breath, steeling himself before he turns the corner and starts walking. He focused only on the door to his room, ignoring Soap and Gaz. He did everything he could to block them out and pretend that they weren't there. Graves managed to get to his door and pulled out his keys, focused on getting into the room and sealing himself inside. He found himself shaking as he fumbled through the keys, having difficulty finding the one to the room.

"Graves?"

Fuck.

Graves doesn't look over at them, just focuses on putting the key in the lock.

"Fucking- Graves!"

"Leave him alone, Soap."

Graves could see Soap walking over in the corner of his eye and he panics. He manages to open the door and darts inside, slamming it shut behind him and locking it. Graves backs away from the door, hearing the two on the other side but he couldn't understand what they were saying. Graves lets out a shaky breath and sits on the bed. The mattress was new when he had joined but he didn't use it much before he started seeking out Nik and Price's company. The mattress was firm, the sheets and a dusty smell to them, too.

But Graves didn't care about that at the moment. Graves lays down, wondering how long it'll take for Nik and Price to find him. He knew they were going to want to talk about what happened when they found him and he was trying to delay that as long as possible. He doesn't want to hear them say it, doesn't want what he already knows to be put out there. That they wouldn't hesitate to throw him out if it meant to keep the peace with the others.

Graves was never someone's first choice, ever. He's always been second rate no matter where he went or what he did. He had stopped trying to be first place and started to put himself first. Stabbing others in the back, cutting corners, doing everything he could to get himself at the top and get what he wanted. Shadow Company was born from cheating, betrayal, and pure selfishness. It represented everything Graves was. Everything that he will ever be.

Someone knocked on the door but Graves ignored it, not bothering to move. More knocking, someone talking through the door but Graves wasn't listening. He just laid on the bed, staring at the window. He couldn't help but think how beautiful the rays of sunlight were coming through the curtains, dust floating through them with grace similar to snowflakes. The person on the other side spoke louder but Graves was now actively trying to block them out. He grabbed the pillow his head was resting on and folded over his head, still staring at the window.

Then he heard the jingle of keys and Graves felt his heart beat faster. Only a couple people on base have keys to the doors on hand, and he was praying that the one he was thinking of wasn't the one opening his door. The door opened and the voices from outside became much clearer and the pillow no longer was an adequate buffer.

"Graves? Shit-"

"Let's just go get Price! Leave him alone!"

Graves wanted to scream, feeling himself start to shake. They wouldn't leave him alone, they wouldn't be satisfied until he was gone for good. Nothing will be good enough for them. Nothing that Graves will ever do will make things right. He's broken, he hasn't tried to fight back against them since he was taken into 141. He let them push him around, kept quiet like Soap wanted and didn't cause any problems.

"I like you better when you keep your mouth shut."

But... even doing everything they wanted, it still wasn't good enough. Nothing he will ever do will be good enough. He's made his bed, now he has to lay in it.

Graves flinched hard when the door closed, he was too scared to look behind him. He laid there, no longer to find beauty in the sunlight or the dust dancing in it, so he squeezed his eyes shut. He felt his breathing pick up, tears pricking at his eyes. He wanted this to be over with but he was too much of a damn coward to do anything. He won't do anything and just let himself be thrown around until he drops dead.

The door opened and Graves prepared for the worst. Something to happen, someone to grab him and drag him away. Something bad needed to happen because nothing else made sense.

"Phil?"

No-

"Love?"

No-

Graves was unable to stop the sob that escaped his lips. The door closed behind him and Nik got in bed behind him, a gentle hand touching his back. He flinched upon contact and the hand jerked away. There was a moment where nothing happened, a moment of stillness. Then Nik gently pried the pillow away from his head, and with his only buffer gone Graves felt exposed.

"дорогой, can I hold you?"

Graves said nothing because he knew that 'yes' would be the only thing to come out of his mouth. Nik lightly touched his shoulder and Graves restrained himself from rolling over and burying himself into the man's arms. Nik muttered something in Russian, it sounded so sweet and full of worry, making Graves' heart ache.

Will he be so sweet when the truth comes out?

"Милый?"

Graves closes his eyes, unable to ignore Nik any longer. He turns and buries himself against the man who immediately wrapped his arms around him. Graves felt Nik press a kiss to the top of his head, muttering something as he held him. Graves felt himself start to cry, knowing it would all be over. He didn't want it to be over, he didn't want to lose Nik and Price. Two men who looked at him for him and believed in him. But they're loyal to their own and Graves wasn't among those people. He was exactly what Laswell said he was: A temporary fling.

"Я люблю тебя."

Graves cried harder, Nik holding him like he was afraid he would disappear if he let go. Graves’ fingers were curled into Nik's shirt, desperate to keep the man next to him. The truth was going to come out sooner or later, he might as well enjoy any affection he can get before things go sour.

Graves wasn’t sure how long he cried, he just knows he cried until he had no more tears to shed. And by that point, when his tears ran dry, he found himself exhausted by it all. Graves pressed against Nik’s chest, wishing Price was there with them.

”I’m here, love. I’m not going anywhere…”

Yet.

Graves sighs, taking in the warmth of Nik’s arms and his smell before he drifted off to sleep.

_

Graves expected to wake up alone. But he wasn't, instead he was still being cradled against Nik's chest... with a body pressed against his back. Graves had never been fond of being in the middle during cuddling, something about it made him feel trapped. Nik and Price never pushed him to be stuck between them longer than what he could bear. But right now, it was welcomed.

He felt an arm on his waist, slow shallow breaths. They both were asleep or deeply relaxed. Graves could see that the room was lit by sunlight from the window meaning he hadn't been sleeping for that long. He didn't want to move, afraid everything would end right there the moment he did. So he just stayed there, waiting. He tensed when he felt Price shift behind him, feeling the man kiss the back of his head. It made his heart ache how sweet he and Nik could be.

It clashed against their terrifying personas they displayed when working.

Graves heard Nik mutter something, feel his voice rumble in his chest, "I'm worried about him."

"So am I, love."

Graves could hear their concern and he felt undeserving of it. He had avoided talking to them for too long and he knew he wasn't going to be leaving this room before they got the answers to their unspoken questions. But he was so scared of what was going to happen to him if he told them anything. Everyone here hated him and he imagined it wouldn't take much for them to finally see that standing beside him was nothing but foolish.

"Phil?"

Graves winces, he was thinking too loudly. He was never good at hiding when he was thinking about something. Graves feels Price shift behind him again, probably sitting up. Graves then felt Nik shift in front of him but he didn't make a move to get up.

"Love, can you sit up?"

Graves takes in a shaky breath before he sits up, propping himself against the headboard. Price turns to where he was facing him, trying to meet Graves' eyes but he couldn't look at him. He wouldn't be able to talk if he met either of their gazes. They sat there, no one saying anything at first. The silence became a bit too much for Graves so he went to say something but nothing came out. He closed his mouth, sighing. He needed to speak even though no one had even asked him to.

"I'm sorry..."

"Sorry? For what?"

"I know things haven't been good since I came here."

Graves feels Nik's shoulder brush his and he finally noticed how small the bed was for three grown men.

"Things have been good, Phil."

Graves shakes his head, "No, they haven't."

He's always put on a smile for them. Always acted like nothing was wrong, that he hasn't been miserable. That he hasn't been enduring the torture from those he's hurt hoping that it would make things right. Torture seems to be too much, not the right word. But that's what it's felt like for him. Torture.

"What's been going on?"

Graves keeps quiet, fear slowly clawing its way through him.

"Phil? Please, tell us what's been happening."

He couldn't imagine how this wouldn't end poorly for him. Maybe Nik would hold on for a moment but he couldn't imagine Price turning on them for Graves. They were his boys and Price would do anything for one of his boys. Graves jerks when Price takes one of his hands, Graves finally turning to look at him. Price looked so worried, desperate to fix whatever was wrong. But Graves wasn't sure if he could fix this without any issues. If he even would try.

"We can't help if you don't tell us what's wrong, Милый. We want to make things better."

"Would probably just make things worse," Graves muttered, mostly to himself and instantly regretting everything he's said.

Graves knew the likelihood of getting out of this room without telling them anything was nonexistent. That getting out here unscathed wasn't an option. Graves felt Price take his hand and squeeze so gently, a thumb rubbing over the back of his hand.

“Love… what has been going on?”

Graves shakes his head, "Nothing! Pretend I didn't say anything."

"Phil-"

Graves jerks his hands from Price, tucking his hands into his lap. He attempted to make himself as small as possible, curling in on himself until his shoulders didn't touch Nik or Price. He's said too much and he knows he won't be able to leave until he talked. He's already said enough to make them curious, make them worry. Graves should've kept his mouth shut and played everything off as him just having a bad couple of days.

"дорогой... Please..."

Graves tears up, "I don't want to cause any issues..."

Neither of his boyfriends say anything and Graves lets out a shaky breath. He crawls to the foot of the bed and sits there, trying to figure out what to say first. Their silence was of course accompanied by patience. Patience that Graves didn't deserve.

"Your men haven't been... as forgiving as you."

Price moves, "What?"

Graves has seen Price come to the defense of his boys with the drop of a dime. He's always defended them and Graves had scarcely seen any scolding or disciplinary actions made. Nik has put Soap and Ghost in their place before, but that was long ago and the situation was tense for everyone.

"Is this about Soap? Or Ghost? I've talked to them about their behavior."

"Did you? I never noticed..."

Graves winces at his own words and feels his heart pick up speed in anticipation of Price's response. Nik was quiet, too quiet.

"Why didn't you tell me about the issues you've been having with them?"

"I've seen you bend over backwards to keep them happy. Felt like it would just stir up shit."

There was more silence and Graves hated it, it was too much. So much louder than any words. He would have preferred Price openly discussed how this relationship- This arrangement- has run its course. Nik was still quiet and Price had joined him in that silence, so Graves decided to keep talking. He was already in a hole so why not keep digging.

"I know I'm just entertainment. Everyone else says I am..."

"That's not true."

If Graves didn't know the man by this point, he wouldn't have known that it was Nik who had spoken. His voice was so small, so weak. It was like he forgot what he was supposed to sound like but still forced himself to speak.

"I heard what Laswell said."

Pieces snapped together for them, "You heard that-?"

"I wasn't trying to eavesdrop. Was just in the wrong place at the wrong time... She knows what she's talking about. She's always been the voice of reason."

"Phil, that- What she said wasn't true."

Graves felt fingers brush his back and he jerked away without thinking. He didn't mean to but he wasn't expecting any kind gestures at the moment. Graves could feel his heart aching because he could imagine the hurt expressions on their faces… He could also so clearly see anger at what he was saying. So Graves closed his eyes when he felt Price get off the bed, squeezing them shut. He’s always been a coward, unable to face the consequences of his actions.

He could tell the man was in front of him but he refused to open his eyes. Graves flinched when he felt fingers graze his hands. They jerked away for a second before they came back, easing their way around Graves' hands. Graves let his hands be held, still keeping his eyes screwed shut. His hands were moved away from his lap and Graves felt whiskers on his skin before warm lips. He swallows, letting out broken breaths before he opens his eyes.

Price was kneeling on the floor, holding his hands so close to him. After another kiss Price looks up at Graves with such a sincere and loving look in his eyes. There was a pain there, an ache that Graves felt responsible for. Graves feels Nik move closer to him, reaching out to touch him again. This time Graves didn't jerk away and let Nik move close to him, pressing against him back and kissing his shoulder.

"Phil, tell us what's been happening. And please, don't leave out any details."

Graves broke and the tenderness in his boyfriend's voice. So, he started to cry. And he told them before everything that had been happening since he had officially joined 141 ranks. Things were admittedly not bad, not until Graves had grown closer to Nik and Price. He remembered everything went to shit after Ghost saw Graves leaving their bedroom, wearing one of Price's shirts. Since that moment, it felt like it became Soap and Ghost's mission to make his life hell.

They told him nothing he could possibly do would fix what he had done, that no amount of dick sucking and brown nosing would make them ever trust him. Graves didn't want to go into detail about what had been going on but once he started talking, he found himself unable to stop. Price kept a neutral expression as Graves cried, Nik held Graves the entire time. Finally, Graves stops talking and just leans back into Nik's hold.

Nik pressed a kiss to Graves' head as Price stood. While his face didn't display any particular emotion, his eyes were angry. He took a moment to compose himself before he leaned down and kissed Graves. He would then lean over and kiss Nik, muttering something to him that Graves couldn't understand, before he left the room. Fear made Graves shake and he was afraid of what was about to happen.

"We should've noticed, зайчик."

Graves turns his body and rests against Nik, staring at the door. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, like he could breathe clearly. But he also felt regret, guilt, like he was once more betraying Soap and Ghost. Those thoughts washed away with Nik pressing a series of kisses to his face.

"Let John deal with them."

So, Graves rested against Nik. And he let Price deal with them.

_

The silence after Price left made him anxious. An hour after Price left, Nik took Graves to their bedroom to run him a bath in their private bathroom. While Graves soaked, Nik ran to grab him food and whatever else the man could possibly want. He half expected Nik to come back with news about what was happening with Price. But he had nothing to say on the matter and just gave Graves his requested bowl of hot stew and fizzy drink.

After his bath Graves would lay in bed with Nik, Nik giving him full control of the TV. Though Graves spent a good half hour just clicking through movies and shows, not settling on anything to watch, he appreciated the sentiment of Nik giving up control of the TV. He had previously joked that Nik was a tyrant when it came to what they watched because the man never agreed with anything Price or Graves picked. But here he was, not saying a word as Graves just surfed through the channels before just settling on some low rated rom-com.

Price would walk in much, much later. Graves was dozing by that point, not even watching the show while Nik was fully invested into it. They both gave their attention to Price when he walked in, face flushed. He had been yelling, Graves could tell. Price took a deep breath when he had closed the door behind him like he was trying to chase off any remaining anger in him before he crawled into bed with them.

Price had crawled between Graves and Nik, facing Graves and pulling the man into his arms. Graves accepted this, relaxing against Price. He was curious, partially afraid, and deep down he wanted to know if Price had given them hell. Price had a temper that, if let loose, could burn a city down. He had seen it before, had a taste of it. Graves wanted to know if the boys had faced it, if it had burned them.

But he didn't say anything, didn't ask. He just rested against Price, melting against him as the man rubbed his back slowly. Then his hands went lower before Price rolled them over, sticking Graves between him and Nik. Nik immediately turned off the TV and turned all his attention onto Graves. It didn't take long for Graves to become breathless, flushed with want, and completely content with being stuck between Price and Nik.

_

It was a long evening with Nik and Price, neither giving him a moment to think about anything. He could feel their burning kisses and everything they did lingered on his skin. They managed to make him forget about everything, at least for a moment. Graves was nestled between them, completely in bliss and satisfaction.

Then Price got a phone call and the moment ended.

By how fast Price got dressed and left, Graves knew it was Laswell. He couldn't think of anyone else that could spur that kind of reaction out of Price. Graves felt anxious as Price left, Nik also getting out of bed. Graves just stared at Nik, wondering if the man was going to leave as well.

Nik noticed him staring and smiled, "Just going to clean up, love."

Graves relaxed, slumping back down in the bed. As promised, Nik just went to the bathroom for a moment before he returned. Graves watches Nik grab clean clothes, taking his time dressing.

”Heading somewhere?”

”Grabbing some food. Care to join me? Be good to stretch your legs.”

Graves wanted to say ‘no’ and curl up further in the covers, but he didn't and instead decided to join Nik. Graves took his time cleaning up, anxiety rattling him with the thought about leaving the room. He managed to ignore it enough to put clothes on and leave the room, sticking close with Nik as he could manage without actually touching him. They made it to the lounge without running into anyone and Graves sighed in relief.

Nik went through the lounge to the kitchen while Graves chose to sit. His mind was racing, he felt exposed. Any officer could walk into the lounge, anyone could be coming through. Choosing to remain in the lounge instead of following Nik into the kitchen was a conscious decision. He could leave quicker, it would be harder to block him in. Though he didn't doubt Nik would come to his defense if something was to go wrong, he could only think about if he would be able to come quick enough.

Paranoid bastard.

"дорогой, do you want anything?"

Graves nearly jumped out of his skin at Nik calling from the kitchen. He took a moment to breathe before he called 'no' back to the man. He was almost afraid to raise his voice, afraid to attract any attention to the lounge. The last thing he needed was someone to come in and- well, do anything really. He didn't want anyone to look at him, couldn't stand the thought of their eyes on them. Pity, loathing, annoyance— Any such thing would be too much.

Nik comes back from the kitchen and sits down beside Graves. Graves notices the tower of a sandwich in his possession and snorts.

"Have enough for an army there!"

"Enough to share~"

"No thank you, there's no telling what you put in that monstrosity."

Nik rolls his eyes before makes himself comfortable. Graves felt his heart leap, finding nothing but adoration for the man beside him. Then his mind naturally turned to Price and it sunk once more. The call that made him leave so quickly—

Graves jerks his head back as a fucking pickle is shoved in his face.

"Nikolai-!"

"You need to eat something!"

"I'm not eating a bread and butter pickle you psycho!"

Nik was good at getting his mind off of things. Graves knew he was purposely annoying him, purposely making it impossible for him to think about anything other than him. It was something that Graves loved about him.

“Nothing wrong with them! You and John are just weird!”

”Oh? We’re the weird ones? Sorry, babe, but you’re the weird one in this relationship.”

Nik feigns a hurt expression and Graves couldn’t help but smile. God, he loved this man.

Nik ate his food, Graves closing his eyes and enjoying his presence. But the relative silence allowed for his thoughts to brew once more. He frowns, heart aching as he thought about Price. Graves open his eyes, staring at Nik for a moment before he finally said something.

”Do you think John crossed a line with his boys? Or if Laswell is punishing him somehow…”

”Hey, none of that. John is fine. He can handle whatever is thrown at him. The boys got what they deserved and Kate is just going to understand. I doubt she knew what all was going on.”

”Right… because she definitely doesn’t have eyes and ears everywhere.”

Nik sighs, “Phil, she has eyes and ears everywhere on the job. Out in the field, not here. She knows what we tell her and I doubt she’s been given the full story.”

Graves hums. Nik was right, of course he was. He’s smart and he definitely knows Laswell better than Graves. Price was fine… everything was fine…

”What if-“

”Phil I will shove this pickle in your mouth.”

Graves couldn’t help but laugh, Nik looking at him with his softest, most loving glare he has at his disposal. Graves took Nik’s threat to heart and silenced himself. He’ll at least wait until the man has finished all his food before saying something else. He could imagine a few ways Nik would do to hut him up, running into the kitchen to grab another pickle included.

Graves felt a light vibration in the couch which was most likely Nik’s phone. Graves had long abandoned his phone elsewhere (probably now in Nik and Price’s rom somewhere). Nik takes out his phone to check it, poking around until his face gave a subtle hint of relief. He’s a good actor so whatever it was was truly comforting.

”The boys will be getting a talking to… something about teamwork and harassment.”

Graves felt his heart skip a beat, “John is-?”

”And Kate. I told you she would understand.”

Graves let’s out a short, surprised laugh. He slumps against the couch, feeling a weight being lifted. There was of course anxiety about how the boys would react, how they would treat him going forward… but Graves felt at ease, he felt secure where he was.

And that felt amazing.

Hii I'm a new one here in your blog! How are you love?

Can I request a tooth rooting fluff of fatigued Mycroft from work (Moriarty The Patriot)x overprotective fem!reader?

Thank you have a nice day <33

a/n: hellooo❕ forgive my late welcome but i really hope you enjoy your time here. i'm good, thank you :) hope you're just as well ! ALSO AAAA i think i went ahead of myself and typed way more angst than fluff 😭😭

##: angst, fluff, maybe implications of depression if you squint ??

MY KIND OF WOMAN 𓍢ִ໋ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ myc. holmes x f!reader

tonight the moon was far too dipped into the shadows of the dark to come out; too tired, too weary. mycroft seems to deeply relate as he trudges his way in, head throbbing and utterly exhausted.

his younger brother, sherlock, was being investigated for homicide of the media mogul charles augustus milverton but thankfully no proof had risen. yet.

that, atop the stress he's facing with the people of the nation complaining and pressuring that the lord of crime be caught and punished to death—not that he could life a finger, though. he'd already been bound to the moriarty's by the contract and his vow.

“haaa..” he exhales gruffly, taking off his shoes—he barely has enough energy to crawl himself towards the couch before plopping down on it. it's quiet, utterly quiet. and dark; like his current state of mind. dark, yet a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

mycroft's thoughts drift to the weight he carries—the responsibility of his work, the burdens of a brilliant mind constantly analyzing and strategizing for the sake of the nation. it was a relentless pursuit, one that often left him feeling isolated and exhausted, tired and battered. wrecked. he's tired, utterly so.

“....” mycroft pops open the abandoned whiskey on the coffee table, drinking from it. were you drinking? he wishes he could share a glass with you.

it's been too long, hasn't it?

it's been days since he's properly even had the time to look at you. he leaves for work at the break of dawn when you're still asleep and returns in the middle of the night; a perpetual, tiring cycle.

he feels like crying for the first time in a while—the weight is too heavy, too harsh on him. and he dips his head low, ducking his chin, even in the dark. as if someone would or could see him like this, so vulnerable and exhausted. he's glad you're sleeping in your shared bedroom — at least you won't have to see him this way, weak and pathetic.

“mikey?”

mycroft freezes, neck of the whiskey bottle still touching his lips. “...(name).” he croaks out and instantly regrets it. his voice is hoarse, cracked at the end, almost whiny. he hates being this way.

“you okay? how was work?” slowly you tiptoe your way to him—the atmosphere was heavy and you could sense it from miles away. your fingers rest themselves on his shoulder, standing behind him and you realize just how tense his muscles feel.

“the same as always.” he replies plainly—the same neverending work. of course he'd like to say more than just that one sentence to you but he worries that if he starts, he won't stop, and that once he starts, it won't end in a simple complain—it'll end in a breakdown, tears and all.

so he sits there quietly. still as a rock. not facing you.

clack. he says the whiskey bottle down.

“i see.” you mumble. you know he hates being perceived as weak and vulnerable so don't force him to face you either. instead your fingers begin to slowly knead his shoulders, massaging him.

and mycroft swears he feels a lump grow in his throat. he leans back against the chair in silence, further back against you. it feels good, he thinks. to be cared for and loved as much as you do to him.

“...thank you, (name).” he whispers earnestly. he recognises he became so accustomed to shouldering the weight of the world that he had almost forgotten the simple joy of being cared for. “truly.”

plop.

a tear falls down onto his lap.

“..of course, honey. anytime.”

but neither of you say anything.

plop. another tear.

he's embarrassed—the tips of his ears are red but he's also grateful that you're not saying anything further. he likes that you're respectful of him and his boundaries and that you're not forcefully prying it out of him. he would tell you himself, anyway.

“i thought i'd lose my little brother today.”

mycroft says it so suddenly that it makes you pause—and it makes your heart ache painfully. he seemed to be going through a lot these past few weeks.

“i thought that he'd end up behind bars, that we'd never be able to bicker again,” he continues slowly, as if spoken too fast and he'd overwhelm himself with his own words. “the constant demands and pressures placed on me... they never cease.”

your hands have gotten softer on his body, more gentle and kind. “i can see the toll it takes on you, mikey. it's okay to feel overwhelmed.” you press a faint kiss to his nape. “you're only human, after all.”

a small silence. and then he breaks it: “i'm...afraid, (name). i'm afraid of failing. of disappointing everyone. and most of all, i'm afraid of losing you because of this— this darkness that surrounds me.”

he's at last allowing himself to feel infront of you.

and this time mycroft turns his head to look at you; you're faced with a grief stricken mycroft, heavy tears dripping down his face. you are strong. stronger than you give yourself credit for. but even the strongest of people need support and love. let me be there for you. share the burden with me." you cup his cheeks and he nuzzles himself against your warm palms.

“i love you.” he whispers softly. weakly.

“i love you too, mickey. i'll always love and stand by your side. no matter what happens to either of us.”

“even if i were to be brandished a traitor the next day for conspiring with the lord of crime & keeping silent even after i became aware of their true identity?”

“even then i would love you.”

“and if i were to be executed the next day?”

your heart hurts for him—you realize this is one of his genuine fears that he's been constantly wracked with. “then i would follow you wherever you go, mickey—even after death, i will forever be yours.”

a mix of emotions flicker across mycroft's face! fear, longing, a glimmer of hope. he takes a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper. "promise me you won't give up on me, no matter how difficult it gets."

“i promise.” your voice is filled with determination and he breathes a sigh of relief—something he desperately wanted to do for a long time now. “you're not alone, mycroft; you never will be. as long as i'm alive you will always be well and protected.”

mycroft nods silently, lets himself be embraced by you—he'd allow himself this much of respite. he could face all the horrors the world has to show tomorrow. as long as he can rest in your arms tonight.

there were still a lot of thorns and you were certain there'd be more along the way, but you would never allow even one of those to graze him. you were dead set on clearing a better, smoother path for mycroft and make sure that no one would stand in his way.

you look down and for the first time you feel him softly sobbing into your chest. you kiss the crown of his head and hold him tighter.

yes, you think to yourself as you pat him. the scheming and mind wracking can be set aside for tomorrow. all you want to do is be with him right now.

and you're sure mycroft feels the same.

I might start writing one shots with the contents I have in mind. I'm so bored, but I'm scared no one will give a shit :(

I started the semester with straight A's but now am not even straight anymore...

the thing is that childhood doesn't just end when you turn 18 or when you turn 21. it's going to end dozens of times over. your childhood pet will die. actors you loved in movies you watched as a kid will die. your grandparents will die, and then your parents will die. it's going to end dozens and dozens of times and all you can do is let it. all you can do is stand in the middle of the grocery store and stare at freezers full of microwave pizza because you've suddenly been seized by the memory of what it felt like to have a pizza party on the last day of school before summer break. which is another ending in and of itself

Sighing

sending “I hope you get that job” vibes to the people out here tryna get jobs

THEN // if (then) FINAL PART

This is why we can't have nice things.

To be an eldest child is to swallow all the words you have ever wished to speak and all the emotions you ever wanted to express.