BBC Sherlock one shots

Muffins

You walk in to find your boyfriend, the notorious criminal, Jim Moriarty, baking in your kitchen, with flour and batter staining his clothes and face. "They didn't have the kind of muffins you like at the bakery and they wouldn't make another batch so I thought I'd make you some." He says in a sleepy voice.
"And I'm assuming that's why I heard about Mr. Machiavelli's death in the news earlier today?" You reply with a small smirk, asking about the late baker.
He just looks at you innocently. "Why would I ever do something like that?" He looks at you with his big brown eyes like a little puppy.
"Babe, I thought you said you'd stop murdering people because of little things like muffins."
"I know you find it rather attractive." Smirking, his demeanor changes from his lost puppy act to something a lot less innocent.
"And how would you know that?"
"Well your pupils dilate and you get a goofy smile on your face, and don't get me started on your heart rate," he pauses taking a step closer to you. "Face it," he takes another step. "You find me" he leans in to your ear, his breath tickled your skin as he hissed, "Irresistible." He brought his gaze down to your lips, you could smell his signature musky cologne. His shirt slipped down the slightest bit and you could see his muscles move underneath his skin. He pulled away suddenly. "Mmm the muffins will burn." He said slyly turning his back to face the muffin trays.
"You haven't even put them in the oven yet." You say, finding his sudden change of attitude annoying.
"You know I like toying with you," he turned his gaze back to you as he was scooping batter into the trays. "Ooh, just a spot left" he stuck his finger into the remaining batter and scooped it up. "Want a taste?" He moved his finger to your mouth. As soon as you parted your lips he retreated his finger and licked the batter off himself. You glare at him, and all he does is smirk and say, "like I said darling, I like toying with you."
"Well that's just mean." You scoffed. He grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled you tightly to him. You looked up to meet his staring brown eyes. "Will this make it better?" His raspy voice making you melt into him. He brought his head down and kissed your lips, he trailed his warm lips down your neck, deep groggy moans escaping him. Even his moan had a distinct Irish accent. The oven beeped making you both jump. "Muffins," he choked out.
"Muffins." You giggled. He brought the pastries out of the oven and placed them in the cooling rack. He wiped his hands on his sweatpants, making your eyes trail. You wanted to breathe in his musky scent again. The thought of him mad your knees weak and your insides tingle. As if he could read your thoughts, he walked over to you and slammed you against the kitchen wall "Something the matter darling? You know you can tell me." He moved in closer and closer to your face. "Just say it," he whispered into your ear.
"Say what?" You replied shakily, your breath hitched in your throat as he spoke his next words.
"How I make you tremble. How I make your insides shake." He responded barely inches from your face. You looked down at the wood floor, your face hot with fire. He brought his strong hand up to your jaw and forced you to look at him. "Say it," he said replacing the hand on your jaw with his mouth.
"James... James, please... No more teasing." Your breath hitching and your heart beating faster with every move he made.
"As you wish." He picked you up in his arms. Your arms dangling around his neck, peppering light kisses where you could reach. He threw you onto the couch with a creak. "No more teasing it is," he said as he climbed on top of you. He unzipped your jeans slowly as Helens a trail of kisses from your mouth to your stomach. "No more teasing," he grunted between kisses. As you let out a loud moan the door flew open. "Jesus Christ!" A man yelled and my head turned towards the doorway. He spun around in disbelieving circles. His head resting in his hands. Another pair of footsteps ran up the steps of the flat. "Well it seems you are quite the busy man." Sherlock looked us up and down.
"I'm not in the mood for this little exchange right now." Jim had turned on his Moriarty voice. It sounded more threatening and sarcastic.
"Well it seems you ARE in the mood for something." Sherlock smirked and glanced at you.
"SHERLOCK BLOODY HELL TIMING!!" John yelled his face turning red.
"Not good?"
"VERY NOT GOOD!" John shouted back at him. James quickly slid off of your body. You suddenly became sickeningly aware of the situation. You zipped up your pants and tugged your shirt down blushing furiously. Oh god, you thought, uncle John.