Sherlock x Chubby!Reader
Request: Could you do a SherlockxChubby!reader where shes really insecure and he assures her shes perfect and fluffy stuff like kissing and cuddles
Your alarm clock went off far to early for your tastes. You groaned, “Ugh…” You got up and got ready for your day with John and Sherlock. John and his family were family friends of yours growing up and he invited you a few years back to join him and Sherlock in their line of work. You couldn’t help but linger in front of the mirror before walking out of your flat. It’s not that you were an elephant, it’s just that you had a fuller figure than the average woman; a figure with little areas that protruded out.
Arriving at Sherlock’s flat you let yourself in and went upstairs to get briefed on the newest case. “No new case today Y/N,” Sherlock said reading your thoughts.
“Because we have a party being thrown for us by what’s his name from wherever it is that requires us to attend,” he retorted.
“It’s at 7 tonight. Sherlock and I will take a cab to your place at 6:30,” John chimed in from his chair.
“What exactly am I suppose to wear to this thing? All I have in my closet are jeans, T-shirts, and a couple pairs of nice pants and blouses.”
“Mary thought ahead and got a dress for you last night while we were out. I hung it up on the bathroom door.”
“You married a good one John,” you smiled at him. “I have some errands to run then before tonight,” you grabbed the dress off of the door. “I’ll see you both at 6:30 then.”
“Bye, Y/N.” “Yes, goodbye Y/N,” the farewells followed you out of the flat door.
You had successfully completed your errands, which included getting real food for your pantry, and were putting the final touches on your makeup. There was a knock at your door, you ran to it quickly rushing John and Sherlock in. “You guys are early!”
“Or you are running late,” Sherlock retorted. Although he wouldn’t admit you were tied with John for the title of best friend. “Very funny Sherly. Just give me one second to put on my dress and heels and then we are good to go.” Going back into your bathroom you looked at the bag hanging from the door. You unzipped the bag and looked at the dress, you hadn’t had time to try it on and it made you a little nervous but Mary knew you, and more importantly your size, so she must have done good picking out a dress. You slipped the black dress on and looked in the mirror. It was a little bit tighter than what you would have picked out, and a tad bit shorter. “Mary you’re going to kill me…” you muttered, “too late to turn back now.” You slipped on your heels and left the bathroom. You were uncomfortable and hoped it wasn’t obvious. “Alright boys, let’s go.”
“You look very nice, Y/N,” John complimented you.
“Yes, Y/N, you look very nice. Now let’s go, I don’t want to be late,” Sherlock lead you all down to the cab.
You were able to shake off most of your nerves as the night went on but how you looked in your dress still plagued your thoughts. The drinks sure helped you forget for a while though. Now that the party was ending you grabbed your coat and made your way out to find a cab. “Y/N,” you knew that monotone voice anywhere.
“You recommended that movie about those superhumans to me last week and I rented it. Would you like to watch it with me tonight. That party was so boring I would actually like to have something actually entertaining.”
“The Avengers, Sherlock. Superheroes not superhumans,” you laughed. “I’d like that.”
The drive back was fun with Sherlock. Everyone on the streets was analyzed by you both, jokes were cracked about the party and the people who attended, and you even got Sherlock to agree to stop for Chinese takeout. You arrived back at 221B and got some plates out for the food. “If I eat one more thing this dress is going to pop open,” you thought to yourself.
“You shouldn’t regard yourself like that.”
“I analyze people for a living, it was easy to read you before the party…and during the party…and just now. You look very nice. Not just tonight in the dress but always, even in those things you call sweatpants.”
“Sherlock, I don’t know-”
“Beauty is not a scientifically accurate description for the appearance of someone. I believe that beauty is nothing more than a superficial term used to tell someone if they look acceptable or not in the eyes of someone else; but, if I did believe in the concept of beauty, I would absolutely deem you beautiful.”
“You’re sweet you know that. I know you don’t like people to think that of you but you are.”
He walked over to you and gave you something rare, a hug. “Beautiful.” He kissed your forehead. “I put some of my pajamas on my bed for you to change into.”
“You know me so well.”