BBC Sherlock Imagines (Book 2)

Mycroft: Sacrifice

Request for Mrs_Margaret_America

~

You shrugged into a pair of jeans and frowned as you realized they were a little tighter than the last time you had worn them, which was only last week. You twirled in front of the mirror, checking out your backside and huffing in frustration at the curves that seemed to stick out in all the wrong places. You lifted up your shirt and your eyes traced over your layers of skin. Too many layers, you thought. With your shirt still lifted, you sucked in your gut. Instantly your stomach caved into itself. Your ribs protruded slightly, but not too noticeably. Now if only I could keep position. But you needed to breathe, so you let your stomach and breath go, and with it, the rest of your self esteem. You continued turning about, pulling at your stomach, inspecting the loose skin that hung off your arm, and wondering how much weight you'd have to lose to get that thigh gap. At that instant, Mycroft came into the room.

"Honey are you almost ready? We're going to be late." You caught his eye in the mirror, then looked away shamefully as if you had been caught doing something wrong.

"Let me get dressed," you muttered, fighting back tears that had sprang into your eyes unexpectedly.

"You said that an hour ago," he huffed. You turned up to him, you lip quivering and hands shaking in anger, but you kept quiet. You slipped on a nice blouse and heels. You told yourself not to look in the mirror, but you couldn't resist. A pang went through your heart - the blouse revealed your extra tummy and your jeans did not make your legs look any smaller than the last time you checked. If anything, they had gotten bigger.

"Does this make me look fat?" you asked, turning to face Mycroft. He rubbed his temples stressfully.

"Sherlock told me this question was coming, said he saw it in all the movies." And then you burst into tears. "(Y/n)," he cooed, coming over to you. He placed his arms around you and led you to the bed. He sat you down and guided your head into the crook of his neck. You stayed like that for awhile - him wiping away your tears, and you crying harder and harder as you realized how ugly you must look to him. You gathered yourself, sobs turning into sniffles, and wiped away the last of the tears falling down your cheeks. You gathered enough courage to look up at Mycroft. To your surprise, he was already looking at you, and he gave you a small smile. "What's wrong?" He whispered this as if he was afraid by talking too loud you might start crying again. You shook your head, wanting to pretend this never happened and go back to normal. "You know," he said, "I'm not one for talking about feelings, or having feelings." You snorted.

"Trust me, I know." He continued to smile lovingly at you, proud that he could make you laugh a little, even if it was at his expense.

"But I have feelings for you, strong ones." You felt tears glaze your eyes. He grabbed your hand, pressing it to his lips lightly. "Tell me what's bothering you, I care." You took a deep breath, not really sure how to bring this up, it wasn't a light topic.

"I'm fat," you blurted out. Surprise sparked in Mycroft's eyes and he instantly opened his mouth to argue. "Don't try to argue with me on this. I've gained 10 pounds this past month. 10! It's unhealthy Mycroft. And I'm scared. And ashamed. And grossed out by myself." You watched his adam's apple bob, then looked down at your tangled hands. You waited for his scolding, the typical responses of "Don't say that about yourself" or "You're not fat" or "You're just imagining things". But he didn't say any of those.

"I'm fat too," he admitted with a sigh. You looked up at him, and he smirked at you. He released his hands from yours and cupped his stomach. "All of London could fit in here," he joked.

"Mycroft I'm serious," you groaned, and leaned into his shoulder.

"I am too," he said, and you felt the vibration of his voice through his suit. He grabbed your shoulders and faced you so you were forced to look at him. "Let's work on this together," he suggested. You sat up a little straighter at that.

"What do you mean?" you questioned, not wanting to get your hopes up. He sighed again, a happy sigh.

"You know... Eat healthy, work out, the kind of stuff motivated people do." You chuckled.

"Would you really?"

"Anything for you."

"That means sacrificing."

"I know."

"Sacrificing cake," you said, accentuating this fact because you knew just how hard it would be on him. You saw his jaw clench and you kissed him happily. "I'm sure you can spoil yourself every now and then though." He gave you a look, then got up from the bed, extending his hand towards you.

"I would sacrifice all the cake in the world if it meant making you happy." You grabbed onto his hand stood up from the bed.

"That is the best compliment I have ever received from you," you teased. Mycroft pulled you into him, brushing his lips over your forehead. You felt him smile, and felt his lips forming the words over your skin.

"It should be, cake is not a joking matter."

A/N

(I know already said this once BUT ITS RUPERT'S BIRTHDAY. My lil cinnamon is 53... LOVE OF MY FREAKING LIFE OMG)

Two stories in one day - BOO YA!!!!!

Currently watching World War Z. Ever seen it? I love zombie movies!

Random: WHO DO YOU SHIP IN SHERLOCK?! (Idk if I've asked this before but I want to hear 'em. I won't judge.)

OKAY BYE THAT'S ALL

STAY LOVELY CHILDREN, MOMMA LOVES YOU

DON'T EVER FEEL LIKE YOU SHOULD CHANGE HOW YOU LOOK OR ANYTHING. I'VE NEVER SEEN WHAT ANY OF YOU LOOK LIKE BUT I KNOW YOU ALL ARE BEAUTIFUL BECAUSE OF YOUR PERSONALITIES.

BEAUTY IS ON THE INSIDE, NOT THE OUTSIDE.