May the smut be with you - 12. slow and lazy - Sherlock
I'm back! Let's go on with the missing days!
warnings: jealous Sherlock, maybe a bit breeding kink ( this man is perfect for this)
"Ok, ok... hey wait... what's going on?" you ask in a quiet voice, clawing at Sherlock's curls to lift his head up. Something is different today, much more affectionate and even more possessive than usual. Sure, Sherlock likes to leave his mark on you, but the fact that while he's fucking you he's clawing at you like this, almost desperate, and then pushing his body against you as close as possible, that's something you've never seen from him. In addition, his pace is much slower, without the aim of torturing you. And this is more than unusual, because he usually only does this when he notices that you are about to explode and he tries to push you as far as possible.
As he raises his baby blue eyes at you, you can see that something is eating him up, that it's something very deep that's affecting him.
Sherlock stops moving completely, just stares at you as if searching for something in your gaze that might help him. Instead of answering you, you suddenly feel his lips soft on yours as he slowly pulls out of you again and then pushes back into you at the same pace.
Grumbling, you push him away from you again, crossing your legs behind his back as you hold him in place by his shoulders.
He frowns at you, no trace of the dominance he usually shows, and it takes you a moment to figure it out. Because Sherlock doesn't react like most people. It makes it terribly difficult to attribute his behaviour to his emotional state, even more so when his rock-hard cock is inside you, begging to be allowed to continue fucking you.
But it's not impossible, because by now you know him better than he knows himself in many ways. He has shown this clinging behaviour many times before, never to this extent, but always because of the same trigger. Whether you had a casual conversation with John and smiled at him, or Lestrade brought you a coffee early in the morning. However, you can't explain where this is coming from today, because you've hardly spoken to anyone the last few days, with the exception of Mrs Hudson.
" Could you be.... jealous?" you stammer, to which he replies straight away with a chuckle, so that you can feel the vibration in your chest. Shaking his head, he looks at you, and you can see that this chuckle is just a desperate attempt to hide the truth. Because he knows you can really see him.
"Why would you say something like that?" he finally laughs, wanting to lean in to you again, which you know to prevent.
"Because you're acting weird..." you explain to him, earning only a deep breath that sounds very annoyed. You feel his cock losing hardness as he drops his head to his chest, panting.
""I'm not jealous. It's just... that you' re mine," he murmurs so low that you have difficulty understanding him. Of course he's jealous. Because with every word his fingers tremble in your shoulder, and when he looks back at you, you can clearly see the fear in his gaze.
"I am yours! All of me and forever! You know that," you declare with a smile, gently stroking his shoulder. He looks to the side, searching for words, for it is not easy for him to express his feelings, it never has been.
"It's just...I see the way they look at you...how they all love your laugh...your sunny disposition...your openness to people...you're the opposite of me...one day you'll see that for yourself and then... " he whispers, leaning his head into your palm with his eyes closed. The sight of him almost brings tears to your eyes and you pull his torso back towards you so that his face rests against your neck. His hot breath hits your skin, trembling, and for the first moment you are at a loss for words, so you circle his shoulder in silence, sending goosebumps down his body.
"Who said what to you, huh?" you finally ask, because you are sure that this fear was not triggered by himself. Sherlock just shakes his head and pushes himself closer to you, causing his cock to slip out of you.
"Sherlock! I'm not an idiot... so tell me... who were you talking to today?" you try again, and at first you only earn an annoyed snort from him.
"It was Lestrade... he... said... that I have such luck to have you... and that he wonders how a person like you can put up with me at all..." he explains in a trembling voice and for a moment you get pissed off. You know he certainly did not intend it in a bad way, or to hurt Sherlock.
"Sherlock, I'm sure what he meant was that we're great together. That we complement each other. Opposites attract, you know?" you explain, to which he lifts his head.
"We're not magnets..." he declares outraged, as if you've personally insulted Gauss.
"I... I know... just think of it more like two pieces of a puzzle... Look... we balance each other's weaknesses... you're intelligent, you see all the details that I would never see, you're rational, you're the mind. I on the other hand, do things without thinking about it, acting purely on impulse, reacting emotionally, being able to recognise emotions in people, like you can recognise a person's background... both of us... are better together than each on our own... don't you think?" you try to build him up, to which he pushes his face deeper into your neck and takes a deep breath.
"I don't want... you to just put up with me... and others just waiting for you to get annoyed with me and leave" he sighs and you can clearly feel his breath trembling.
"No one does..." you contradict him but he shakes his head.
"Yes...because they think you don't belong with me..."
Sighing, you lean your head against his, stroking the back of his neck.
"That's not true...they see it every day by the marks you leave on me...Maybe they're just jealous?" you joke. Even Sherlock can't help but laugh softly and finally raises his head.
Frowning, he looks at you, gently stroking your cheek with his hand.
"What?" you ask with an uncertain laugh as a mischievous smile creeps onto his lips.
"Well... maybe... I need to mark you a bit more... that way they'll finally get it..." he whispers and for a second you feel completely at his mercy. When he then starts to move his hips again and his cock becomes much harder again, you let out a soft moan that he seals with his lips.
"I'm going to mark you...and everyone will see that you belong to me...without a doubt...Guess I'll have to come inside you then" he declares with quick words while his mouth is already exploring your neck again.
Again and again you moan low as he rubs his hard cock against you.
Your fingers gently brush over his shoulder, but when he positions himself in front of your entrance and pushes into you with a hard thrust, your nails claw deep into his skin, eliciting a deep, animalistic moan that sends tingles all over your skin.
Without letting you process the overwhelming sensation, he thrusts into you again to hear your hoarse begging.
His forehead is pressed firmly to yours, his lips just a breath away from yours as he holds you captive beneath him.
"Everyone will be able to see that you're mine..." he moans on the next thrust, stopping at the deepest point.
"Everyone... because your round belly will leave no more questions..." he whispers now and again you're surprised by the softness as his lips tremblingly seek yours.
"You... you want to...." you stammer and moan out loud as he pushes himself ballsdeep into you again with a hard thrust.
"Oh yeah... I will... you will carry my child inside you... and no one will ask stupid questions anymore..." he gasps, increasing the pace. That alone is actually enough to make you climax, but his words cause a chain reaction, make you push your hips even closer to him.
You moan out in a whimper while sinking more and more into his gaze. Rarely have you seen such conviction in him, such certainty as in this moment. But he also hesitates, he considers, he waits. For you to give him your confirmation, to show him that it's okay. For you to prove to the whole world that you belong to him.
"Do it.... Just fucking do it, Sherlock!... Put a baby in me..." you gasp, and before you've even finished your words, his lips crash down on yours, pulling you into the most possessive kiss he's capable of giving. His pace increases so much that within a few thrusts you're already so close to exploding that you can't step back.
Your name falls on his lips like a silent prayer, and is replaced more and more by a gasping moan, telling you that he himself is not far away.
The sensation leaves you with only a hitched breath, and your hands move to his head, pressing him tightly against you.
"Fuck... do it!... come inside me!... pleeease..." you beg him with tears in your eyes, because your body is overwhelmed by all the feelings that come over you. And as the first wave crashes, threatening to crush you, his thrusts become slower but also harder, bringing the most intense of orgasms to you now as he spreads his cum deep inside you, marking you for himself for once and for all.
For a moment you can't breathe, and just stare at him with your mouth open until he finally stops completely, deep inside you. With each throb of his cock, a soft whimper escapes you with him struggling to breathe. Only when he rests his sweaty forehead on your collarbone do you feel every muscle relax.
"Everyone will see..." he finally whispers one last time before his lips gently meet your skin.
"Everyone," you confirm, wrapping your arms firmly around his neck to hold him as close as possible.
Based on this request: I was waiting for this. Reader is Sherlock’s girlfriend who is babysitting John’s daughter while the boys are gone. When they come back, they see Y/N singing Room Where It Happens from Hamilton while the baby sleeps This is my favorite song from the whole musical by @tagthetrekkie
Here you are, lovely! My apologies for the wait! As Disney is SUPER protective of their copyright, I could not put the full song in the fic. I’ve known writers that have had fics reported for using Disney songs and I didn’t want to risk that, However, I hope the fic itself makes up for that. *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine!*
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Pairings/Characters: Sherlock x fem!reader, John Watson, Rosie Watson
When you became Sherlock's girlfriend(surprising everyone who knew you both), you didn't realize you'd also become a babysitter for little Rosie. Not that you minded. You had grown to love Rosie, but John and Sherlock were often gone for hours or even days at a time when working on a case. It did get a little lonely with just you and Rosie. However, you soon learned that the baby liked your singing voice and you took to singing whatever popped in your head at any given moment to her especially when it was time for her to sleep. Sometimes your choices were a bit odd given the situation. Like now.
You don't know why the Hamilton soundtrack popped in your head when it did. It wasn't like you'd listened to it recently. But of course, "Helpless" was pretty tame as far as lyrics went so you decided to sing it for little Rosie while she finished eating. Then, "Burn" as you were putting her down for the night. She fell asleep listening to your voice filling the flat. After getting her settled in, you left her room to do the daily cleaning.
As you tidied up, you continued singing. At one point, you used the dish brush as a microphone. Quietly, of course. You didn't want to wake Rosie. She was a pain to get back to sleep like most babies and toddlers. So you cleaned the kitchen before moving on to tidy the living room. As you picked up Rosie's various toys, you started singing "Room Where it Happened." It was really one of your favorite songs in the show and it took everything in you not to belt it out. However, that didn't stop you from dancing around with the broom as you swept. You didn't count on having an audience. You sang, "I wanna be in the room where it happened, the room where it happened, the room-"
You nearly screamed when you turned around to see Sherlock standing there with John. Sherlock looked slightly amused at your embarrassment while John made it no secret that he was laughing. "Oh, shut it," you mumbled. John merely laughed again before carefully picking up Rosie to take her home. Sherlock put his arms around your shoulders while you continued to grumble. You weren't upset, just embarrassed. Sherlock was NEVER meant to see that side of you. You had no idea that seeing you that way had sparked thoughts in Sherlock he never thought possible.
Seeing you so at ease in his home brought unbidden thoughts of domestic life to Sherlock's brain. Without meaning to, his mind conjured up images of you dancing with his child in your arms. Of coming home to the smell of supper waiting, whether home-cooked or not. Of quiet evenings together. Of you being there to bounce ideas off when he got stuck on a case. Of listening to you singing or debating something with Mycroft, who actually got on with you fairly well.
Sherlock could easily picture waking up every morning to see you next to him. He could see you standing in the kitchen in one of his shirts. That brought a whole new set of thoughts that he would deal with later. Sherlock never believed he would find the idea of domestic bliss worthwhile. After all, he had his cases. That was enough for him. At least until you.
"And what is troubling the mind of the my favorite high-functioning sociopath now, hmm?" you asked as the door closed behind John and Rosie. Sherlock gave you a tired smile that he was certain you weren't surprised by. He hardly ate or slept during cases so his body was telling him to take care of himself now.
"Sleep or food first?" you asked, already knowing the answer. Sherlock watched for a brief moment as you made your way to his bedroom. While you stayed at the flat most of the time, you insisted on separate bedrooms in case one or both of you needed space. Plus you knew of Sherlock's reluctance about physical contact sometimes and you respected that. Tonight though, it seemed you could read his mind and knew he wanted to be near you.
The case had been a rough one so when you moved to leave the room after getting the bed ready for him, Sherlock grabbed hold of your wrist. You glanced at him and he hoped his eyes conveyed the words his mouth would not let him say aloud. Without a word, you climbed in the bed next to him and waited. Sherlock had no idea how you had so much patience for him when no one else did, not even John or Sherlock's own family.
As soon as you were comfortable, Sherlock practically wrapped around you, his head resting on your chest and his long limbs tangling with yours. Your fingers began carding through his dark curls. Your actions gave Sherlock a feeling he wasn't at all used to without the use of drugs. Peace. He soon felt his eyes falling shutting as sleep began to take hold. The consulting detective entered the land of dreams to the sound of your humming as the melody to "The Room Where it Happened" filled the room.
(a/n: I hope you like it! Tag lists are open!)
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