Sherlock preferences

You make them food

GUYS! Im so sorry that I've not been updating regularly. I'm at college now and have a ton of essays to write. Obviously I will maintain this book but perhaps at a slower pace than normal, maybe one update a week. Thanks for understanding xxx
----------------------------------------------

Sherlock-
As, most days, Sherlock spends many hours at a time submerged in the comforting solitude of his mind palace, he never seems tried have the time to look after himself properly. You worry about him religiously and do anything you can to show your love towards him. Now, Sherlock may not be a great food lover but he is extremely impartial to Mrs Hudson's blackberry jam tarts...
It was a bright, clear Autumn afternoon; golden sunlight oozed in through sparse gaps in the old blinds. Sherlock -like most days- had been sat since lunchtime on the sofa, engrossed in his own mind. It had been four hours and you began to worry that he hadn't really eaten anything since breakfast, even then it was just a meagre buttered crumpet and a cup of tea (it's England duh). You made the independent decision to creep downstairs and borrow Mrs Hudson's tart recipe. Half an hour later the kitchen of your small flat was filled with the angelic aroma of caramelised sugar and sour blackberries. The pastry you had concocted was a gorgeous bronzed brown colour and each tart looked identical.
"Not too bad if I do say so myself" you said to yourself quietly as you carefully placed the treats methodically onto a blue rimmed China plate. You grinned and turned to where your boyfriend sat. Still on the sofa, hands still steepled under his perfectly chiselled chin.
"Sherlock?... Sherly?..." You spoke softly at an attempt to break his daze slowly. In the end you just gave up, "SHERLOCK!" You shouted, making him jump out of the chair and onto the floor, panting as if he had just fallen from a great height. "Sorry.." You apologised, still grinning, "I made these for you babe!"
You held forth the plate proudly, admiring it as if it were an undiscovered Picasso painting. You instantly saw his eyes light up which flooded you with a feeling of contentment and warmth.
"Thank you (y/n)" he grinned and took one, biting into it and savouring the gooey jam which ran down his pale, thin fingers. "They are amazing!"
"Haha thanks... Mrs Hudson really is a genius"

John-
John loves it when you surprise him with food. He is one of those people who strongly believes that food can make any situation better. One night, John came home from working on a case with Sherlock and you had prepared something special...
You heard the usual melodic clunks of John's heavy set boots climb their way up your oak stairs. The door which marked the entrance to your living room was lethargically pushed open to reveal John stood, disheveled in the centre of its open frame. His shoulders were hunched over and his eyes looked as if they were screaming with fatigue, you really sympathised with him.
"Hard day?" You asked him kindly as he flopped his average stature down into the sofa across the room from where you stood.
"Of sorts..." He started tiredly "Sherlock has done nothing but sprint around London all day and obviously, Lestrade sent me after him to make sure he didn't hurt himself" he yawned openly as he uttered the last few words. You crossed the room and placed a soft hand on his forehead, gently stroking your fingers through his silvery blonde hair.
"Well..." You began to grin, "I've set something up in the kitchen that I think you might enjoy tonight" you continued to smile as John got up wearily and followed you, curious at what he might find.
"Ta daa!" You said, flinging your arms in the air as John gazed at the table before him. You had set up to places, two glasses of wine, two freshly cooked bread rolls and two steaming hot plates of lasagna. "What do you th-..." You began to ask before John cut your sentence off with a passionate kiss.
"Wow.." You mumbled through his soft lips.
"Thank you so much sweetie. I couldn't ask for a better girlfriend. You get me, food always makes things better" he smiled and kissed you again before sitting down at the table and enjoying the beautiful meal with you.

Mycroft-
Being at a high status in society, Mycroft has has many, many meetings with 5 star chefs, speciality restaurants, secret menus and expensive cuisine. Despite all this however, he insists that food tastes the best when you have cooked it. That's why, every night, when you come home from work with him, you get started in the kitchen to prepare something amazing.
"What would you like tonight myc?" You asked as you poked your head round the kitchen door. He pondered this question for a second, leaning back in his chair as if to contemplate the meaning of life itself before vocalising an unhelpful "surprise me" and grinned at you. You have out an extra large groan of sarcasm and disappeared into the kitchen for the next fourth five minutes. Suddenly, your voice broke the silence in the house
"DONE!"
Mycroft almost fell out of his seat as you shouted this, it took him a few seconds to the gain composure as he stood up from his chair and straightened his regal waistcoat before approaching the kitchen. The huge grin on your face couldn't help but infect him too and by the time he has arrived face to face with you, the both of you were grinning like children high on sugar.
"It smells amazing precious" he stated as you ushered him into the kitchen and sat him down on one of the barstools at the grand, marble bar table. Your grin expanded exponentially further across your face as you giddily placed a bowl of chicken and vegetable stir fry in front of him. He stared at the colour infused dish in awe and uttered
"How do you do it (y/n)?" He smiled and took a mouthful of the soy noodles and vegetables that lay before him. "It's amazing!" He congratulated you and you have a little curtsy in sarcastic appreciation. "Aren't you just my little star" he said beaming with pride as he embraced you in his warm yet firm grip. He kissed you softly on the forehead and you smiled back in response. You couldn't ask for a more loving boyfriend.

Greg-
Greg isn't massively dazzled by cooking skills or culinary genius, he just appreciates it when something tastes nice. That is want makes him so easy to please when you cook.
"Morning babe" Greg cooed as he wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you from behind as you wielded a wooden spatula in your hand.
"Morning" you sighed back happily, placing the utensil back into the pan you were heating up and wandering over to the fridge (Greg was still trying to hug you at this point so getting eggs out of the fridge was easier said than done). After some struggling, you managed to collect the ingredients you needed and set them down on the counter top.
"Whacha making?..." Greg said, poking his head over your shoulder annoyingly. You tried to brush him away but he just snuggled up closer, making you giggle and drop an egg on the floor.
"Greg! Now look what I've done!" You said, still laughing. "And if you must know, I'm making scrambled eggs for your breakfast!"
"Oooh! Fancy!" Greg mocked as he cleared the shattered egg shells and goop off the floor.
"It's not fancy you div." you really couldn't stop laughing now... You made the rest of the meal in hysterics. Four eggs, a splash of milk, a pinch of salt,  pepper and two slices of toast later; you finished. You placed a plate of scrambled eggs on toast down in front of Greg and he smiled
"Thank you babe. I think you can appreciate that it's just the little things in life like this that really bring love to a relationship..." You raised an eyebrow at him.
"Oh stop being so soppy and eat the stupid thing!" You laughed at him as he blushed slightly, digging into his breakfast.