After the festivities...

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(A/n- important question before I start, I was thinking about cutting the preferences down to just Sherlock, John and Mycroft. My Greg ones never seem as popular and to be honest, they are getting increasingly hard to write. I just want to get your thoughts on it... Should I keep writing for Greg or leave it out from now on?)
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Sherlock-
For the next few days running up to new year, Sherlock always insists on taking down all the Christmas decorations. You try to retaliate against his reasoning every time but he is set in his ways...
"Be careful love!" You called to Sherlock as he balanced precariously on an old step ladder as he attempted to undress the Christmas tree. He paid no attention to your suggestions and just carried on, showering the floor in tinsel and pine needles.
"Sherlock!" You repeated "be careful! I don't know how strong that ladder is! Don't fall! I don't know how much weight it can hold!" Your voice became more panicky by the second
"Are you calling me fat?" He stopped working and turned to you, raising his eyebrows sarcastically
"Oh shut up you twit! You know I'm not, I just don't want you to fall!" He grinned cheekily and stuck his tongue out at you as he went back to de-baubling the tree. Finally, the tree was bare. As he had been stripping it, you had been nearly packing away he ornaments into their corresponding boxed until the floor was almost spotless (apart from some stray glitter). "Nice job sherly" you complimented him, still stood on his rickety podium. He smiled down at you and instructed
"Why don't you go and put the boxes back in storage? I'll finish up in here"
"Ok babes" you giggled to yourself for a moment after calling the infamous consulting detective 'babes' and left with the stuff. As you shifted the heavy boxes into their dark nesting place, you heard a huge crash from the living room which provoked you to jump up suddenly and run to the source of the noise. As you turned the corner, you clasped your hand over your mouth, stifling a laugh which was about to emerge...
"You ok Sherlock?" You asked, fighting back hysterical tears of laughter.
The step ladder in which he was stood, had collapsed slightly and his foot fell through, causing him to collapse (rather ungracefully it would seem) on top of the prickly tree.
"Fine... I'm quite fine..." He replied plainly.
"I didn't think that old thing would be able to hold that much weight..."
"Stop calling me fat!" He retorted with slight annoyance this time. He took no offence but he did find your comments mildly irritating.
"Jesus Sherlock! Take a joke!" You were absolutely falling about. Unable to breathe from laughing so much. Eventually, you had gained enough composure to walk over to your boyfriend and help him up.
"Thank you (y/n)" he replied, slightly sarcastically.
"Your welcome"

John-
After Christmas, all you could do was marvel at all the wonderful things that your boyfriend, John, had bought for you. Grinning madly, you snuggled closer to him on the sofa where you both sat and continued to thank him for his unrivalled generosity.
"John... This has been such a magical Christmas!" You sighed with delight and rested your head, warmly, against the crook of his neck. For a moment, nothing mattered. John always makes you feel like this. On this particular year, John went slightly overboard with the gifts...
In all, he bought you a new, lace covered blue night dress; a rose gold pair of teardrop earrings; a first edition copy of Romeo and Juliet; a gorgeous string of twinkling love heart lights to hand across the bed headboard; a print of the painting 'ophelia' and a gorgeous new slinky party dress which looked AMAZING on you. You were slightly taken aback on opening them because you knew how expensive those things must have been...
"Enjoy all your presents?" John questioned again, as he brought his hand down and rested it gently on your lap.
"..Yes babe.... Yes I did..."
"Why the hesitation? Don't you like them?.." John became slightly flustered which worried you
"No, no! John I loved them! It's just.... They must have been expensive..."
"Oh babe..." John sighed and smiled sympathetically as he turned to you, softly bruised your long fringe out of your eyes and grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly.
"It doesn't matter what things cost... That's not how I value our relationship... All that matters is how much those things mean to you..."
You smiled your little goofy smile which makes the bridge of your nose scrunch up as you wiped a slight tear from your cheek which had escaped your eye during his heartfelt monologue.
"I love you so, so much..."
"I love you too sweetie"
You closed your eyes wearily, allowing him to gently place a kiss on your eyelids as you relaxed them and you settled off into a peaceful reverie in John's capable arms.

Mycroft-
The holidays is never a good time for 'health living' and your household was no exception. Mycroft, obviously, tried to stick to his diet and you actually had to give him credit for doing well. It was you that you were worried about...
You were stripped off to your underwear preparing to go in the shower when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your once slightly concave stomach was now just flat (and much healthier looking to be honest). In reality, you hadn't changed much at all, you were still lean, you always had been, defined collarbones and slim legs; it was from your fathers bloodline. However, when you looked into that reflective hell, all you saw was fat. For a good ten minutes, you just stared, in disgust, at your ever so slightly altered reflection, prodding at problems areas and pulling at puffiness which did not exist. In truth, you were still technically underweight for your height but you didn't see it that way... You had been gone for a while and Mycroft noticed that the drone of the shower had not started yet. Out of pure curiosity, he got up to investigate what you were doing...
On reaching the bathroom, he swung the door open to see you stood there, half naked, teary eyed, with your head in your hands.
"(Y/n)?" Mycroft asked, rushing to you and gentlemanly wrapping his arms around you. Unfortunately, this just started the waterworks. He slowly lowered himself down to lean against the bath with you sat on his lap, still wrapping your thin arms round his torso.
"What's wrong precious?!" He asked, with a slightly stronger hint of urgency. You failed when attempting to speak; you were fighting the tears too hard...
"Don't fight... Let it out... I'm here" Mycroft re assured you with a kiss on the cheek until you were in a more suitable state to speak.
"M..Mycroft... I H...Hate Christmas..." You spluttered, meaningfully between sobs.
"Why babe?..." Mycroft pressed further, determined to get to the root of your sadness.
You wiped your eyes once more before courageously speaking
"I put on a couple of pounds over Christmas Mycroft... I'm a complete pig... Just look at me! No, wait, don't look at me, I'm hideous!" You hid your face with your hands as the tears started up again. Mycroft was speechless.
"That is what you're upset about?" He rocked you back and forth on his lap in a manner which avoided patronisation. "Mhmm" you nodded, wiping your nose as tears ran down it.
"That's absurd precious... You are still fairly majorly underweight! Putting on a few pounds has probably helped you more than anything else. You are not fat so stop saying that, you must stop putting yourself down like this... I love you..."
You slid off his lap and stood back up, supporting yourself on your slight legs.
"You don't think I put on too much?" You asked, turning back to the mirror and pinching at your stomach where there was nothing there to pinch.
"(Y/n) stop!" Mycroft demanded softly, grabbing your hands and holding them by your sides as you struggled so you couldn't further abuse yourself with them. You tried again to wrestle your hands free but Mycroft wouldn't let them go...
"(Y/n)...You have what many girls long for... And by having you, I have what many men long for... A beautiful, talented, funny, charismatic woman!... So please, stop trying to find flaws in yourself that aren't there..."
After this outburst, you instantly span round to meet Mycroft's lips. Yours and his smashed into each other in an explosion of passion and Mycroft began to slide his hands slowly up towards your waist. You flinched slightly, nor really wanting him to touch one of your 'problems areas' but were determined not to move away. You were going to do this for Mycroft. Believe in yourself. You are beautiful...

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