Chemistry in the Shower
Requested by Anon:
a Sherlock x reader, where he tries to explain her chemistry for her finals and they just end up doing other things
& Anon: Can you do a smut one shot with Sherlock where he and the reader have sex in the bathroom and it’s really hot and they freak John out a bit because he thought that she was shy and All?
Pairing: Sherlock x reader
Word count: 1,515
Warnings: Smut - shower smut, unprotected.
A/N: This was soooo hard to write… As Dean would say “Game of Thrones is complicated, the shower sex – that is complicated… Hell ain’t complicated.”
really not that hard, you see.” Sherlock started, using his intellectual voice
as he made strange drawings on a white piece of paper, “If we add up these two,
you get this one. The same goes to this: If you divide it, you get these two.”
“Yeah, but how do I know which one goes first?” (Y/N) whined.
“You mean…? Nomenclature isn’t hard.” Sherlock continued. He was trying his best to be patient with her; obviously, no one had his brains and so he had to be compassionate. So he proceeded to explain the correct order in which the chemical compounds were to be named. “Any other doubt?”
“How do I divide a compound?” Sherlock sighed heavily.
She wasn’t dumb, not at all, but she was stressed and her mind wasn’t working as it used to. Sherlock knew it, he had noticed, and so he offered his help to explain Chemistry to her – a choice he was already regretting – and all he could think of was that she would find a way to remove all of the stress in her life so he could go do his experiments in peace.
“Doubts?” He asked for the millionth time that day and mentally prayed for her to say no.
“Yes.” Sherlock groaned, shutting his eyes for an instant to try and recover the last bit of sanity he had left. “I don’t want to study anymore.” (Y/N) continued, and Sherlock couldn’t help but to release a relived sigh.
“I was about to stab you.” Sherlock confessed, looking dead serious into her eyes.
“I was about to kill myself.” She replied, and then her head fell over the table as a frustrated groan escaped her throat.
“Take a rest, we can continue later.” Sherlock spoke as he got up from the table and towards the window.
“Do you honestly want to continue helping me?” She inquired, without lifting the head from the table.
“I don’t see why not.” Sherlock said nonchalantly.
“Because I’m a freaking imbecile for this, perhaps?” Sherlock chuckled.
“Don’t feel bad, not everyone can have my brain.” He beamed.