Sherlock X Reader One Shots || 𝐹𝐿𝑈𝐹𝐹 + 𝑆𝑀𝑈𝑇

"Good Morning" (Part 1)

CONTEXT: 

("Following on from You've Got A Lot Of Explaining To Do") It's Y/N and Sherlock's first day as a couple, and Sherlock realises that balancing a love-life and crime-solving career is actually a lot easier (and more fun) than he anticipated.

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Sherlock woke the next morning because something had moved against him.

That something had been Y/N. She was tucked against Sherlock's front and had shifted in her sleep. They had no clothes on and her bare backside was flush against his hips, and even though Sherlock felt unimaginably spent, he still felt a ripple of desire course through him. Lips twitching into a sloppy smile, he nestled himself a little closer, burying his nose into the back of Y/N's neck. Because it felt good. And he couldn't believe that he can just...do that now, cuddle up to a woman, to Y/N. All that time he'd wanted to, longed for it, and now he just...can. He might have been convinced it was just one of those dreams he sometimes has, if it didn't feel so beautifully real.

Sherlock had woken up in the same bed as Y/N before, but it was different this time, it felt different. The first time he'd been wary; touching his friend as if she were eggshells he was trying hard not to break. He couldn't enjoy it too much, he couldn't do anything that would make him enjoy it too much. But he can now, Sherlock thought with a smirk. That morning he'd been in bed with his friend. Now he was in bed with his girlfriend. His lover. His partner.

Those sappy romantic words made his heart flutter with burning elation, so much so that he felt giddy, and had to grin to release some of his overflowing joy. He has a girlfriend. 

He was still beaming when Y/N said sleepily:

"You seem happy this morning." By the sound of it, her own lips were curved into a smile. She stretched her arms out in front of her, like a cat waking from a long nap, and turned over to face the man who had been curled around her back.

His eyes were pushed into crescent moons by his cheeks, which were creased from his smile as he kissed her forehead. "Good morning. How could you tell?"

Y/N dipped her head to tuck it under Sherlock's chin, pulling herself up against the solid, warm strength of his body with the hand she'd placed on his side. Once they were sufficiently pressed together she didn't let go, and instead slid her palm up and down slowly, pressing a massage onto Sherlock's delicate skin. He loved it, obviously, and sighed, his breath swirling on the top of Y/N's head. Something in him, some instinct, was triggered by her closeness, the vulnerable way she clung to his body and he held her to him, encompassing her in the reassuring cage of his arms.

"I could just...tell. Feel it. There's something different about you." Y/N's voice came small and muffled from her sanctuary, pressed against Sherlock's chest.

"Something good?"

Whilst pressing a kiss to his collarbone, keeping her face so close to him her words swirled against him, hot and humid. "Something very good." She pushed herself up, now, so she was leaning over him, having taken his shoulder to push him down onto his back. Sherlock let her, eagerly, and she smiled, feeling the little skip of his heart, noting his sharp inhale of breath.

That would have made Sherlock blush before, showing Y/N---or any woman---what an effect she had on him, but now he wanted her to know she made his knees so weak he wouldn't be able to stand if he tried. He wanted her to pick up on the places he especially liked to be touched, to note how much pleasure he gets from being pampered. Sherlock wants her to know these things because he's desperate for her to exploit the hell out of them.

"You're all...happy. I love seeing you happy."

The feeling of Y/N's naked body against his, her close proximity, her love, were the reactants but her kisses were the catalyst. That earlier tightening in his midsection, that hunger he'd felt at her shifting against his bare hips was back, hot quivers of sensation spiralling up his legs, but this time it was lasting for longer. Every new kiss Y/N gave him sent bolts through him, just as they had last night, and his nerve cells prickled with the realisation that they can do that again. It will be better this time because Y/N knows every inch of him. She can play his body like an instrument.

She's doing that now, Sherlock realised with a smirk as he noticed the way she seemed to be planning the trail of kisses up his neck. There's a spot, a certain tender area just below his ear that can make his back arch in pleasure... And Y/N is purposely avoiding it. She knew it was there, she knew it, and was teasingly swerving it on purpose, holding out on him just to watch him squirm.

"I'll be even happier if you kiss me in that place I like." Sherlock hadn't meant to sound flirtatious, but that is how his husky murmur had come out, and it nearly made him blush. Nearly. He would have blushed if he hadn't liked how he sounded as much as he did. He'd never tried to be coy before, and now that he was---now that he could see what an obvious effect it had on Y/N---he regretted not giving it a go sooner. His voice was perfect for it, the deep baritone vibrating through Y/N and straight to her core. Smugly, he felt her react to it, noticed her body do the same things his had done when she'd shifted against his pelvis. He liked it. The fact that he could make her cheeks redden, her pupils swell, the fact that he could finally ask her to kiss him at all.

Propping herself up over him with one arm, Y/N pretended to look confused. "And where would that place be, exactly?" She stroked Sherlock's fringe from his forehead, smiling down at him and he faked frowning moodily up at her.

"You bloody well know where." He was mostly faking. He did want her to kiss him again really badly.

Y/N chuckled, her laughter the best thing Sherlock had ever heard, and he let his eyes slip closed as she bent back down to the place she'd been caressing. "Here?" she's still teasing him, and he's aching.

"Up a bit. You know it's up a bit."

In answer, the pads of Y/N's lips started moving in the right direction but swerved to the left of that place he wanted them to touch, missing it by a few centimetres. "This bit?"

Sherlock could feel her smirk, the evil joy she gets from toying with him radiating off her. His fingers are pressing comfortably against her waist and he contemplates using their position to suddenly flip them over. He'll get her back for tormenting him, he will. 'This is my new favourite thing', one of the few non-lust-filled parts of Sherlock's love-riddled brain decided. 'Messing around in bed with my girlfriend.'

Y/N was still dodging that one spot, torturously close. She'd lowered herself down onto him, her breasts pressed into his chest and Sherlock whimpered. "Ah, I think I know where you mean now." She moved her head over a bit, just right now, hovering---

Then the doorbell rang.