This page is somewhere for me to keep all the amazing fanfics and art I see so I can revisit (especially since tumblr). Sometimes I post original stuff of mine, too. Not only Mystrade, but I liked the username.
Author: mystrade-lecroft
This page is simply somewhere for me to keep all the amazing fanfics and art I see so I can revisit (since tumblr might implode). Sometimes I post original stuff of mine, too. Not only Mystrade, but mostly.
Another crime scene. Something else of Sherlock’s to clean up. According to Inspector Lestrade, the shooter is unknown and unlikely to be found. Lestrade isn’t as dim as Sherlock claims, though. Surely he noticed, as Mycroft did, Doctor Watson and Sherlock behaving oddly.
Lestrade walked over to Mycroft just before the taller man got back into his car. He often did this whenever the leggy redhead came onto one of his crime scenes. He would try to talk about anything other than Sherlock or whatever horror was being dealt with behind them. Mycroft assumed Lestrade was trying to ruffle his feathers a bit. But the way Lestrade was smiling at him gave him pause.
“Why are you pretending to be interested in me?”
“What makes you think I’m pretending?”
“I’m certainly not your type.”
“Who says we only have to date our quote unqote type?”
Mycroft raised an eyebrow as he listened to Lestrade continue,
“I like your eyes. The few times I’ve seen you actually smile, it’s quite nice. You’ve got legs for bloody days, which lead to a rather nice arse. Not to mention you’re smart, you’re funny, you care for your family, which is something important to me. Sure you’ve got the ice-man facade, but underneath that is a loving, caring brother. Underneath that is a caring human. And then underneath that, of course, is public parking.”
Mycroft laughed,
“And what exactly are you interested in, Inspector?.”
“Drinks? dinner? Whatever you’re willing to give, I suppose.”
“Well even though I don’t partake often, it is theorized that humans do require somewhat regular meals. I suppose one with you would be acceptable.”
“Acceptable? Ooh, talk dirty to me, Mycroft.”
“Perhaps even enjoyable,” Mycroft said, his face relaxing into a soft smile.
Greg smiled, “Tomorrow? Seven?”
“I’ll come in the car. Greg.”
Mycroft stepped into his car. Greg kept smiling as he watched the car drive away. Wasn’t such a bad night after all.
He moaned desperately, trying to rut against her. She was teasing him, deliberately thrusting into him too slowly. She firmly held his hips down, leaning over his back to nip at his shoulders. He could feel her smile as she kissed one of the marks.
“Ah ah ah. That’s not how you get what you want, darling.” she crooned pulling the strap on out completely. She shifted forwards, not quite sitting on his lower back, but enough to put a gentle pressure on his spine. “You have to ask me nicely.”
She loved making him squirm like this. From her position on top of him, she could see every shift of his muscles. His knuckles were white as he gripped the ropes holding his wrists to the bed, and she could tell he had one of those adorable expressions on his face.
She held back a chuckle as she leaned back, resting her hands on the back of his thighs. He twitched, and she saw him lower his head a little as he admitted defeat.
“Please mistress, I can’t take this anymore. Just fuck me into the mattress already!” he whimpered, voice muffled a little by the mattress.
She giggled, unable to stop even as he shot her a dirty glare over his shoulder. God, she couldn’t help it. He was just so wonderful.
“Oh, you’re too cute. Alright honey, get ready to scream my name.” she murmured, getting up and moving back.
Without any warning, she lined up and slid all the way inside, smirking at his sharp intake of breath. She pulled almost completely out before pushing back in, happily groping him as she picked up the pace.
“Oh fuck yes, mistress, THERE.” he groaned, knees feeling weak as she rubbed the toy on his prostate. She smirked, reaching around to jerk him off and reducing his words to incoherent moans. He melted into her touch, finally getting it hard and fast and rough, just the way he’d wanted it.
Mycroft wants to buy Greg a holiday house in France for Valentine’s Day, because he recognises the importance people attach to the date and he wants to be special and magnificent. But Greg catches on and talks him down.
‘I don’t need a holiday house, or a Bentley or anything,’ he says gently. His fingers are laced in between Mycroft’s and he’s smoothing the veins on the back with his thumb. ‘Just – can we maybe do something? Together? Nothing big, just – like a walk in the park or something, half an hour, no distractions.’
Mycroft doesn’t quite understand why anyone would want to spend time with him, rather than a French holiday house, but he clears his throat and says awkwardly, ‘I suppose – if that is what you wish.’
Greg smiles at him, crinkle-eyed, and says, ‘You really don’t understand – do you?’ in his softest voice, and when Mycroft stares at him in perplexity, he laughs a little bit and tugs him a bit closer so that he can rest his chin on Mycroft’s shoulder.
‘Just you,’ he murmurs. ‘That’s all, Mycroft. I just want you.’
Funny thing is that I doodled this comic out on valentine’s day and just never did anything about it. But then recently I got a bunch of followers who liked my cheerleader+nerd girl ideas so I thought I’ll finish this comic out for you guys!
Also they have names now!
Valerie (cheerleader) and Emma (nerd). I want to think of an official series title for them but nothing is coming up at the moment but I will eventually!
Mystrade-Lecroft 