A/N: READ THIS, BEFORE YOU READ THE FIC. This is not a multi-chaptered fic. Let me explain - now have you ever just had some smut laying around? I've got several in various documents, with no point or plot to be had, which I can't really find any place to put. So, I decided to make this. At the moment there are seven, hence the title, and all of them are wholly unconnected each other. Some might not even be very long, or terribly smutty, but at least you'll get something out of this. I hope.
So, instead of making separate one-shots until my fingers drop off I shall put them here. I hope that doesn't displease anyone. Anyway, the rest of the other "titles" will crop up soon.
Bastard, that's what she'd call him privately during the late hours at Bart's. He was a man who kept verbally disciplining her every time she didn't follow through with one of his idiotic demands. A grown man should be able to brew his own cup of coffee, and he might come with excuses of being too busy and important, but she herself had too much on her own plate work-wise to take care of his needs, when he wasn't working on anything life-threateningly important.
It couldn't have been that dramatic to have her say "no" for once, but by his stricken face it definitively was. Apparently it was almost like a cardinal sin in his book for her to argue against his wants, not even dropping her "no", when he started to go all, "Your hair looks better down, it suits you better that way, you know," (a line he used a bit too often at times).
It was always about him, about his needs, about his tiny projects, in what she considered was her own working-space, which he cluttered up because he was otherwise bored. She was just too tired to accept his presence without arguing, to allow him to step on her, as if she was an object to utilize. She wanted to be respected, especially by a man she admired a great deal, more than admired if he wasn't throwing tantrums like he did today.
The door to her office slammed shut, as she sprang inside with flushed cheeks – anger vibrating throughout her body, while she attempted to take deep breaths. He had such cruel tactics, when she didn't do as he pleased. He'd do his best to insult her, and this time was no exception. It was a wonder she hadn't demanded security dragging him out of the building.
Regularly she'd cope quite gracefully with him being a git, but recently he seemed to be in some sort of constant pressure. John often warned her with a text if he was being extra difficult a period, but some times she'd mentally conclude that he was having his own monthly terror, like herself, as it seemed a good way of excusing him from his actions.
Why couldn't he be home instead?
Well, she was sure it wasn't helpful that Mary and John were more or less at it constantly. She'd never find rest herself, with that kind of thing going on above, but as she sipped her tea trying to still her nerves she did wonder – just a bit – if he just needed some proper relief. After all the man had quit drugs, then had to quit cigarettes too, and had to relinquish every single little pleasure he had, which was good since none of those things were healthy things exactly.
What kind of relief, exactly? She didn't exactly see giving him an extra project as anything except more to brood upon. He didn't need to think, he needed to think less, and how was she going to help him do that? The man never relaxed, his mind constantly working, and always needing some new interest in his perimeter not to go crazed shooting holes in the wall. He was a fully-grown man, and maybe possibly all of this anger was supressed frustration over – - the minute the idea crossed her mind she spat out her tea.
At first she tried to avoid it, maybe she was just trying to please herself, than she was actually pleasing him? She concluded that she was mental even breaching the topic with herself, that he'd never allow her to do such a thing anyway, and it was entirely ridiculous of her to think he would. He might be a grown man, but he was not like any other man. Instead when he popped up she tried being extra nice, attending to him immediately with a cup of coffee, but he only ending up snapping, "Molly, is there something you want?" That caused her to blush, since technically her mind had wandered there, but she just said, "No, of course not, why would I – need anything – from you?" and she'd wandered off.
He seemed fine to begin with really, except it only got worse, as he fully expected her to do it every single time. It aggravated her that he assumed she would be nice, when he kept on going from overly agreeable to flatly insulting in mere seconds. It was record-breaking how his behaviour could go from charming to massive consulting bastard. She almost hoped an interesting death would take place, just in the sheer hope that he'd stop being such a git, but instead it seemed that London had taken a turn of the calm. Causing him to be even more infuriating in her presence, with his non-verbal conversations and constantly calling her "John".
One night she'd hit her limit, wishing he would just go home, as she was knackered wanting only to go to bed, when he demanded she drop everything at the bat of a hat.
"I'm tired, Sherlock," she said stifling a yawn.
"I need a body."
"I haven't got time for this," she said, "I've got to get home."
"Please," he said putting on a pair of puppy-eyes, which would regularly fool her, but they only aggravated her now into snapping, "Fine – ok – you need – a body – I'll give you a body."
He furrowed his brows in surprise, as she picked up her paperwork jerking her head out into the hallway, while he followed her curiously, but with gleeful enjoyment at his power over her.
Though the walk wasn't very long, as she stopped outside of a cupboard filled with cleaning supplies pointing at the door, "Get in there."
"Sorry?" he said after a minute of staring at her.
"In – there - now - Sherlock," she said with gritted teeth.
He raised a brow, taking to open the door, "Why on earth would there be a body in the supply closet?" he said obviously confused. She however pushed him with all force she owned inside, making him growl in surprise, as she shoved him against the wall pulling his mouth into a fierce kiss – locking the door behind her.
Sherlock stiffened entirely, but he didn't shove her off, as her mouth tasted his, his tongue tentatively tasting hers in return. She broke away for a second, "You haven't done this before?" she said gaping at him half-embarrassed.
He stared at her licking his lips, as he said, "No."
She blinked, "Do you want to?"
He seemed to be thinking, much too long for her taste, and she forgoes all pleasantries by bending down on her knees, unceremoniously opening his trousers, and taking him into her mouth, so he wouldn't have to think anymore.
He groaned in absolute shock, as her lips wrapped themselves around his cock that pulsated in her warm mouth. She pulled back, looking up at him, but he did not prevent her from continuing at all, so she brought him back, a moan uttered from the back of his throat.
She licked his length, teasing him with her mouth, causing him to groan loudly, as one hand reached for her hair attentively, unsure where else to rest it. It was certainly something, seeing him lose himself entirely, his eyes flickering between open and shut, as hers were fixed upon his face. She drew him closer into her mouth, her nails digging into what felt like a delightfully well-sculptured arse, as she always imagined it was, when seeing him walking away. He only moaned louder, trembling against her, trying to avoid pushing himself into her mouth, as he breathed deeply trying to quiet down.
However, despite his fervent attempts he lost himself entirely into her mouth, thrusting into her, as she drank every drop of him in. A look of pure relief was on his flushed face, as she swallowed, taking to stand up from her slight wobbly knees.
She gave a nod, "So – I'm going - home now," she said with a quick smile, awkwardly understanding what she'd done, and the consequences of that action at the completely puzzled expression on his face, "Ok – so – right – bye," she said with a tiny wave, mentally groaning at her stupidity, as she sprinted out of the room flinging the door shut behind her.
Fortunately for her later that very same evening - her embarrassment ceased to exist the minute she heard a knock on her door – only to find him at her doorstep with a hungry look in his eyes, as his gaze swept over her pyjamas-clad body.
In the end she never had an issue with him disciplining her.