Sherlock X Reader One Shots || 𝐹𝐿𝑈𝐹𝐹 + 𝑆𝑀𝑈𝑇

Fruit Punch (Part 6) (EXPLICIT)

Many lazy minutes pass, Y/N's little body slowly and shyly loosening below Sherlock's touch.

They haven't removed any clothes yet---besides Sherlock's jacket---although he'd taken that off because they are rather near a radiator. Would he have preferred Y/N had torn it off with desperate, grappling fingers? Yes, but he doesn't mind this either; slow, lazy kisses, gradual exploration, Y/N moving them along with almost glacial slowness.

He has decided that he likes kissing very much; the soft presses, the way Y/N's leg tightens about him whenever he nudges his way into her mouth. The way she pulls his hair.

It is this; Sherlock's kiss falling deeper, and Y/N's hands tightening luxuriously amongst his curls, that leads his mouth to gasp, all on its own:

"Do you want to...move this to the bedroom?"

He'd heard that line on TV and hopes she finds it seductive. He doesn't really mind whether they're in the bedroom or not. The sofa is fine. Or up against a wall. Or the lush rug spread out before the bookcase.

Y/N trembles a little at the suggestion, her breath sharp and fast---but something like exhilaration flares in her eyes. She's hungry for something, something she can't quite name and---if she could---would be too shy to ask for. "...Yes please." She nods, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips. "If you...if you're sure you want to."

"I do want to," Sherlock says earnestly, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "But only if you're ready. We don't have to do anything today. We could kiss some more. Or just cuddle. Or go out for a meal---"

With surprising conviction, Y/N shakes her head. "I am ready. I...I do want to, Sherlock. You're the only person I've ever..." she hesitates, daring to meet his eyes:

"You're the only person who's ever made me feel ready."

Flattered, he can't help a proud grin.

She makes a surprised little gasp as he plucks her up, clinging to him.

Between messy kisses, he carries Y/N to her bedroom, almost stumbling over a coffee table. He tries to lower her down onto the bed like he's seen in the movies but loses balance, toppling onto of her, both of them giggling nervously in a heap.

He smiles down at her pinned beneath him, her smile fragile and a little wobbly, but there, brilliant and bright. "You look beautiful."

A red flush creeps up from the neck of her T-shirt and stains the tips of her ears.

Leaning down, he kisses them, the shell warm against his lips. "You go very red when I flatter you."

Y/N's legs tentatively curl around his, tugging him nearer. Delicately, like a flower unfurling, the stretch of her neck arches giving him more room. "People don't flatter me much."

"They should." He plants a kiss on the curve of her jaw. "I'll do it every day." He flushes this time. "If you want."

Y/N doesn't seem to mind. She grips him tighter. "I want that very much."

He smiles and presses another kiss to her neck, the movement urging her head back.

Her lips part delicately, expectant and wanting.

It makes something in Sherlock's chest flair as he remembers he's the first person to touch her like this, and redoubles his efforts at the thought.

He'd like her to enjoy it. He's enjoying it, it's the best thing he's ever felt and he hopes she feels the same way. Sliding his leg carefully between Y/N's, he kisses her again, persistently, slowly, until they're both dizzy.