#fatlock

“You did say that you wanted to be fitter. Well, here you are. Nothing better for you than taking the stairs”

“Nothing better? Allow me to redirect you to the elevator. Christ... Exercise shouldn’t have to mean savagery” 

Rowan laughed, “Savagery is it?”. She extracted a bandana from her back pocket and wiped Mycroft’s face even as hers was irritatingly sweat free. “This obsession with your weight is primitive in my opinion but I’m supporting you nonetheless. This is just the warm up Mycroft, if you want to quit now I won’t force you. It’s two more flights. Then you can have a good long stretch to catch your breath”

“I am not” he pulled himself over to the next handrail, “obsessed with my weight”

“No? Just vanity then” Rowan teased back. Even with her short legs she loped easily up the stairs. Mycroft had the feeling she knew the sight of her ass swaying up the stairs in front of him was what had gotten him up this far.

“I have... nothing to... be vain about... regarding my body...” he huffed, “This is a... selfless measure... I assure you...”

They came to the last landing before his office where, once again, Rowan steadied him for a breather. His legs and lungs burned from the exertion. Every scone from breakfast that morning beat against his stomach wanting to know exactly what the hell he thought he was doing. 

“A selfless measure? How’s that?”

Mycroft studied his running shoes, already red in the face from exertion now redder from the shame. “I- I well, I want you to erm... when we.. yknow” 

Rowan cupped his cheek and kissed Mycrofts forehead. “I sincerely hope you’re not trying to say that you’re losing weight on my account. You know I like you as you are”

“That’s just it” he latched on to the line of frustration, “I want to be better than just ‘like’ or ‘not minded’” he threw his hands up, irritated with the language of physicality and it’s awkward connotations. Rowan leaned him back against the smooth wall, forcing him to look at her on eye level before holding him by the chin to keep him from looking away.

“Mycroft, I will say this as many times as it takes to get it through your head: I love you, I want you, you are second to none, you are a goddamned gem not someone to be settled for. Do you understand?”

He nodded meekly, half taken aback and half (loathe though he was to admit it) aroused by the way she took charge of him as naturally as breathing. Her hands traced from his jaw, down his neck, shoulders, waist, before settling just above the curve of his hips. And here he had thought that the stairs had gotten his heart pounding.

“Good. And by the way, if you didn’t have the tummy control built into your suits, you’d be having a much easier time breathing”

“How did you-?”

“You’re not the only one here that’s good with deductions Mycroft” she winked, “Now go on”

“What? You want me to strip?”

“I always want you to strip, but in this case just to the waist will suffice. I want you to see the difference it makes on the last flight”

“And you just want to see me shirtless?”

“Would you like me to undress you personally?” she kissed his cheek, “do I need to repeat myself already?”

Mycroft gulped hard, “Is that an order Ms O’Connor?” he began undoing his tie, feigning a pout, reveling in the knowledge that he was in for it.

She slid her down the front of his pants to untuck his shirt and gave him a squeeze for good measure. “That’s Doctor O’Connor to you”.  Mycroft tried and failed to bite down on a moan. He quickly covered his mouth, vaguely aware that with each shirt button that can undone his stomach began to win its battle for expansion. When she finally got him down to just his tanktop she stopped, gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, “You can say no. You know that right? If you want me to stop just say so”

Incoherent from the litany of affections, it was all he could muster to lean down, return her a much less chaste, more desperate kiss, “I want it” 

Without further ceremony, the restrictive garment was removed and set aside. Mycroft felt immediately exposed. His soft, plump belly spilled free to muffin top over his too-tight waistband, the doughy chest, the jiggling potbelly all on display. Anxiety gripped him when he saw Rowan staring fixedly. Then, as though it were an autonomic response, he analyzed what he was seeing; dilated pupils, flushed cheeks, a just detectable increase in pulse. It struck him. “You prefer me... well, plump for lack of a better word” It wasn’t a question. “Why go to the trouble of helping me exercise”

Rowan dragged herself out of the lustful look long enough to offer a chagrined half smile, “You’ve caught me. I did tell you I prefer you as is. I go to the trouble because while I have my preferences I consider them secondary to your happiness”

“Are you telling me that I can satisfy you and never have to set foot on a treadmill again? Never subject myself to another diet?”

She smirked, “Mycroft Holmes, did you just get hard?”

“I feel as though I’ve won the lottery” he chuckled in disbelief. He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck before suggesting, somewhat shyly, “What do you say we go the rest of the way up to my office hm?”

Rowan lifted Mycroft with ease, then started carrying him princess style up the last set of stairs, “Sounds perfect darling, but I do still have one stretch to show you”

“And what’s that?”

She nipped his neck, “The one where I stretch you arms over your head”

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sherlock (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson Additional Tags: Weight Gain, post-S3, Chubby Sherlock, Fatlock Summary:

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This has a bit more Moran/Mycroft, but I promise there will be more Mystrade later on. 

TW: Immobility

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Part II 

It was a slightly warm day out in the courtyard, and though normally, it would be an odd sight that it was completely barren, most people were busy inside, prepping the royal Omega for a trip that had such great importance to their nation, if based solely on the prospect of a joint arrangement of their nation to the more powerful, (in terms of armies at least) nation of Emperor Lestrade's.

But for Mycroft, it seemed tedious, and frankly he was nervous. For the longest time, he had pushed out the thoughts of settling down with an Alpha, especially when he was much younger. In his younger days, he heard countless stories of Alphas degrading Omegas, and the constant depravity that Omegas had to endure due to an Alpha's headstrong and brutish nature, but as time did progress, as did the rights of Omegas, and besides, of course the prospect of progressive Alphas existing was always a possibility to entertain.

Research, as well as common knowledge led to most societies functioning with a dual government, one of Alpha leadership in the battlefield, and an Omega leadership in the home front, dealing with more intellectual matters. That is, the keyword, most. Most societies were progressive, but some were still stuck in the past, and an Omega was considered more as an accessory of an Alpha's wealth, and with that fact alone, he was nervous, nervous that as soon as he left the safety of the manor's walls, that it would be to no choice of his own to be picked by the Emperor. After all, Emperor Lestrade's nation was known for war brutality, as well as a history of "accessory queens", though in all technicalities, the queen or Omega was to have the intellectual power, under the precursor of treaty of all the nations, some would say that the Omega had power, but were nothing but pawns.

And yet, there he was sat there, deep in thought as hand maids fussed on, trying at first to get him into the bath. 

"Madame..." A meek maid started, trying her hardest to get his attention. Mycroft snapped back into attention as he glanced over at her, with a slight smile. "I'm sorry Adeline, I was lost in thought." He explained. 

"Ah yes, madame... well it's just that, the bath water is getting cold." She said quietly. Despite being the royal Omega's handmaid for many years now, she still found herself staring intently at his immense size. It was a bit of a marvel to her how large royal Omegas got. It was common knowledge that all Omegas get larger after mating with their Alpha, but most common folk never got to the truly massive size that most royalty did, mating or not, lavish foods and lack of the need for hard labor lead to their overfed physiques.

"Oh, of course, but you'll need help, send the guards in?" He said, a bit hesitant. He wanted nothing more than to stay in bed, in the safety of their kingdom, but of course fate would have it otherwise. The young handmaid nodded quietly, before rushing off, only returning moments later with a half a dozen strong Alphas. 

The Alphas Guards who served the Omega queen, or any Omega queen for that matter, had to undergo a somewhat rigorous training, to avoid certain things such as, well, arousal or infatuation when in the presence of the queen, but that never stopped a guard, here or there slipping up from their duties. That was the case with one young guard, who upon seeing Mycroft clad only in an almost fully sheer dressing robe, in all of his enormity, blushed a deep red as he fidgeted where he stood, trying his hardest to maintain the strong composure as all the other, much older guards did. With a discreet nudge, from his superior, he straighten out, eyes averted from the queen.

Their leader, Moran, a middle aged man with a large and rather muscular build, wordlessly moved to the queen's side, to his right, as he always did when moving him. The others followed in suit, with the youngest, taking his place thereafter. He looked for guidance as he found it hard to focus, as he got closer, the Omega's scent was alluring to say the least, and even closer he could see the curves of soft fat, clinging to the thin fabric of his dressing gown.

Mycroft smirked as he glanced over to their leader, "Moran, you've been doing this job for a good few years now, how about you do me a favor?" He whispered in mock seductiveness. 

The man was used to this at this point, knowing how well the queen liked to use his allure to get his way, he tried to stay stoic but glanced at his men briefly, and when he was satisfied that they were all face forward, marching down the hallway to the bathing room, he glanced back at him. "And what would that be your highness?" He said in a voice barely above a whisper.

The ginger grinned. "What about we take a detour from the destination? I'd much rather see the woods that be off in an awfully dull meeting with some chauvinistic, pig headed, Alpha." He giggled a bit, before whispering, "No offense to you of course, you're different." He teased.

Moran smirked to himself in amusement. "Madame, we have strict orders from your brother to stay on track." He answered in an attempt to remain formal, as he lead the others to follow his lead in gently lowering the queen into the bathing pool. Mycroft glanced at him quietly. "Surely, you could accommodate such a small request?" He continued, with a slight smile. The oldest guard shook his head, and remained stoic, as much as he could muster, before signaling to his men to face the wall. The maids took this as their cue to strip the royal Omega of his robe, exposing even more of his full and vast bulk. He let out a sigh as he settled into the warm water, even the slightest movement causing his rolls of flab to move, water slightly rising to overflow the pool.

He looked over at the guards, keeping their stance, eyes averted for privacy, with the exception of their leader, who had taken the duvet by the queen's side. "If it were possible to keep it to ourselves, I'm sure a slight detour for you to enjoy the forest would be good to clear your thoughts for the possible... arrangement." He said with a hint of caution in his voice. 

He knew the queen well enough, being his royal guard for many years, but for some reason, he was weary of the neighboring nation as well as their emperor. It was treasonous thoughts for it even cross his mind, but he believed that perhaps the intended end result of the union marriage between Emperor Lestrade and his queen was a ploy created by his brother, Emperor Holmes to rule in full, with his own queen for consult. 

Mycroft smiled a bit at that, "Thank you, Moran. I don't believe I've said it often enough but I value your loyalty, and friendship." 

Moran bowed in response with a soft nod, as he excused himself for a moment, along with his men. He said simply to have a maid fetch them when needed, but in his mind he couldn't shake the feeling of his own greed and perhaps the idea of conquest, countless of men challenged leaders for their positions, and yet he deemed himself too moral to do such a thing when he first began his training. All the wars have made him a loyal dog to an ambitious man, and he was content with this, until he had come to meet an Omega to change his prospect. 

He never dreamed of this, but upon meeting Mycroft, he couldn't settle for mediocrity. He wanted him to live in lavish excess as he was accustomed to, and to have the nation currently ruled by his brother. He wanted the queen and the throne to match, and he would go through great lengths to do so, which brings him to his current predicament of contracting an oracle, or some would go as far as a to say was a witch, to help his dilemma. He knew he had brawn to out match the young Alpha in battle, but the current emperor was known for cunning, and he would anticipate an attack before he had a chance to strike, which is where the oracle would come into play. 

The oracle or the witch as he was so called, was a young Omega, of a truly unusual nature. Moran had, in the early hours of the morning when the queen still slept, had crept to the nearby islands, by boat on his own accord, to scale the rocks where sirens where rumored to dwell. But he found no siren, instead he found the oracle, a small Omega, short in stature but with dark eyes that are cold and barren of life. He had a wicked smile and dark hair.

You both like fatlock.

You: ((Pairing?))

Stranger: (any :))

You: ((Oh, cool. Uh, Mormor? I like a fat ex-jock lmao. But I'm also flexible.))