SHERLOCK; imagines

OF SUNLIGHT AND BEAUTY; m.holmes

SUMMARY: the reader is mycroft's wife. one day he starts to notice that she is dieting. and its not a healthy diet. she started to think that she is not beautiful and that she is fat, and so he tries to comfort her and make her happy and convince her she isn't fat

A/N:  okay, y'all. i was balling writing this and i've been dead inside for years. please give my mycroft some love. sorry it's so long, but its most definitely worth it. please enjoy and try not to cry too much.

WARNINGS: body image issues, self esteem issues. 

WORDS: ~2.2k

The sun was warm against Mycroft's skin as it pulled him from the kind grasp of sleep and into a rose stained morning. His grey eyes fluttered open to meet the dawn and followed the streams of golden sunlight through the linen curtains framing the windows to the soft skin of the woman beside him. The sight of her warmed his heart like the morning rays, as she always did, and he felt compelled him to wrap his arms around her form, pressing into the accumulations of soft skin that hung about her hips and sides, defining her lovely figure.

Mycroft sighed deeply in content, the scent of her and roses and fresh linens filling the air. He smiled, happy to have the one he loved more than anything in his arms.

"Morning, Myc," a soft voice hummed.

Mycroft pressed a kiss to the soft skin between her shoulder blades through the thin cotton of her t-shirt before propping himself up to kiss her cheek. He felt her delicate hand brush the side of his face as he pressed another kiss to her cheek. The pleasant warmth of her rosy blush met his lips like a sweet song to a tired mind.

"Good morning, my darling," he said.

She turned to face him in his arms, a radiant smile on her lips.

"You're quite beautiful when you're half asleep, you know?" Mycroft said, smiling slightly as he brushed her ever-reddening cheeks with a gentle thumb and gazed lovingly at her sleep softened complexion.

"Oh, you're just saying that because you're my husband," she retaliated, rolling her eyes playfully.

Mycroft pressed another kiss to her cheek before holding her as close as possible. He reveled in the way her hands spread across his chest and her legs tangled with his.

"Well, if I'm your husband, I should let you know that you're beautiful always," Mycroft said, his posh accent slipping through the placid quiet of his voice. "Even if your hair looks like a bird has made a home in it."

Ah, there was the snarky quips that defined his Holmes-ness.

"Mycroft!" Y/N exclaimed, a frown on her face as she pushed him lightly off her and moved to sit up.

Mycroft followed suit, his arms wrapping around her shoulders as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "I'm only teasing you, love," he said, his reserved nature and loving compassion Y/N fell in love with returning.

"You sure? That sounded very Mr. Holmes, the British government himself, rather than my Myc to me," Y/N asked, her love for Mycroft softening her doubt slightly.

Mycroft's heart sunk slightly, realizing the remark was slightly biting and everything he vowed he'd never be towards her.

"Yes, of course, darling. I love you, with all my heart, and that will never change. Ever. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." Mycroft apologized.

"It's okay," Y/N said, a little dejectedly, standing from the bed.

"Hey," Mycroft said, standing from the bed as well. Some would say that Mycroft had no heart, that he was all ice and bitterness, with no love or care to be seen. But that was only because every ounce of his love was devoted to you.