Sherlock preferences

Mycroft oneshot - paintings and fainting

A/n- Hi guys! Sorry for the infrequent uploads but I've been REALLY busy with school work at the moment. I hope this longer chapter will compensate for my absence 😅 enjoy.  (I guess)
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It was a warm Friday morning when you heard the first shrill chiming of your alarm clock. Unable to extend your arm backwards enough to turn it off (as this position was new and hence uncomfortable to you), you resorted to giving the bed side table a little push; the resulting rebound of this sent the clock tumbling to the floor with a thud and ceasing its wailing. By this point in your fumbling, Mycroft was already awake and you jumped as he clasped his hands around your waist and tugged you backwards into his warm embrace under the duvet. You giggled and squirmed trying to break the flesh chains which bound you but he was too strong... You loved his strength... It was so subtle. To look at him, you wouldn't think he was that strong, he is fairly lean and tall; more awkward looking than strong. Despite this however, when he held you, he wouldn't let go.

After five minutes of wriggling resulted in a miraculous escape from his bound limb cage, you slipped your legs over the end of the bed and stood upright, leaning to your right to retrieve your night gown from its mahogany stand by the wall. You wrapped the light silk elegantly round yourself and approached the bathroom to have a shower.
"Don't take too long getting ready precious" Mycroft spoke in an elevated volume from his position still curled up in bed.
"Why?" You shouted back, not drawing your eyes away from the mirror as you fiddled with your hair
"You forgot didn't you? It's the gala. Remember? The opening of the new art gallery."
You internally face palmed as you stepped into the shower. You had forgotten. It had been at least two weeks since he has last reminded you so it was inevitable really.
"But the gala is pirate themed isn't it? Everyone has to dress up with some relation to piratical origins? I don't have a costume!" You shouted once again
"Oh yes you do...." Mycroft murmured under his breath, grinning.

He waited until you had finished in the shower -once again, draped in gentle pink silk- and still grinning, handed you a large box.
"What's this?" You asked, intrigued.
"Your costume"
Your face immediately brightened and you squeaked a little with excitement. You placed the box down on the bad and eagerly removed the lid. What you saw knocked you breathless. It was an exact replica of Elizabeth Swann's dress from 'Pirates of the Caribbean'.
"Oh my god Mycroft! This must have cost a fortune!" You wept slightly, holding up to your body and beaming madly.
"Now, precious, don't worry about the money, it's just a gift" he smiled genuinely as tears rolled down your face in intense ecstasy.
"What are you wearing?" You pressed,
"Well... I was definitely not going to dress as Sparrow and the 'William Turner' costume only ran in an extra small... So I will be James Norrington."
You widened your eyes exponentially and bit your lip, trying to conceal another squeal as you jumped up and down vigorously.
"He is literally my favourite character! He is very attractive, suits you perfectly" you giggled childishly as he blushed, folding his arms
"Yes... Well.." He coughed quietly with embarrassment "you'd better get ready, I'll call one of the maids to help you do up the back"

You smiled and stepped behind a translucent paper screen in the corner of the room to slip the dress on. The maid then arrived and graciously helped you with your corset bodice. The feeling the dress have you was intense. Sort of, regal and beautiful and powerful all at the Sam time.
"I love it!" You cried from behind the screen, admiring yourself in the mirror.

While Mycroft finished getting changed, you lightly applied some makeup and stepped out into the centre of the room. You felt amazing. Mycroft then made and appearance from the bathroom having showered and changed into the appropriate attire.
"You look amazing!" You shrieked in a hyperbolically girlish scream which actually made him jump a little. He humoured you, giving a little spin before stopping to really acknowledge your outfit.
"Wow..." He whispered, making you blush this time.
"You like it?" You inquired
"Like it? I love it! You look just like her! That corset does look a little tight though... Are you ok?... Can you actually breathe?" Even though he gave a slight chuckle at this statement, there was a clear tone of sincerity passing his lips and his eyebrows furrowed slightly.
"I'm fine" you smiled innocently
"Sure?... You will be on your feet all day and as dashing as you look, I'd hate for you to be unsafe. That thing must have pulled your waist in at least another couple of inches... You're positive you're fine?"
"Yes!" You laughed at his over protectiveness.
"Okay then. Our car is waiting outside, let's go!"