Sherlock X Reader One Shots || 𝐹𝐿𝑈𝐹𝐹 + 𝑆𝑀𝑈𝑇

"Good Morning" (Part 2)

Y/N pulled away and Sherlock opened his eyes again, curiously. "Why have you stopped?"

"Was that our doorbell or Mrs Hudson's?"

Sherlock knew but by no means did he care. If Y/N hadn't have pointed it out he probably wouldn't have registered the irritating little sound at all. "It doesn't matter. Kiss me again. Please."

Grinning at his desperacy, one of her hands was cupping his jawline, her forehead inches from his, and she rubbed her thumb over his cheek. He looked very nice with his curls all messed up over the pillow. Pecking the space between his eyebrows: "I think it was for us. Shouldn't we get it?"

Shaking his head, Sherlock took the back of Y/N's and tugged her back down, kissing her lips slowly until she moaned, the sound making him roll back his eyes. But it was his turn to tease her now, he wanted to get back at her for tormenting him so. He broke the kiss, moving his lips to the corner of her mouth instead, smirking at her little noise of irritation. He'd forgotten the doorbell already. All Sherlock was currently aware of was the pleasing weight of Y/N's body over his, and her fingers that were now running through his hair as she tried to chase his lips.

Downstairs, the door opened and the low buzz of voices drifted up through the floor. Someone with a gruff London accent was talking to a woman.

Y/N muttered against Sherlock's cheek as he made a trail of caresses over her nose. "Sherlock, it's Lestrade. We should see what he wants."

Sherlock's skin tingled at her breathily gasping his name. Suddenly he wished they had their own house so there was no landlord living below them to let in random police officers. The mental image of owning a house with Y/N sent a little thrill through him and he took her hips and pushed her quickly back onto the bed. She squealed with laughter as he straddled her waist, beaming. The sun was seeping through the curtains, casting the woman below him into brilliant light and he almost chuckled at how it seemed to make her glow. Like gold at the end of a rainbow, or treasure at the end of a quest. Sherlock let his gaze rover over her, her sparkling eyes, her smile. He bent down to kiss over her forehead and down, over her cheek lovingly, tantalisingly slowly, the corners of his lips drawn back in a grin. "Lets not." Let's stay here forever. 

Y/N couldn't help her legs moving up to wrap around Sherlock's narrow waist and he thought, triumphantly, that he'd won as she said: "I want to stay here and cuddle with you all morning too---"

"Then we shall."

Y/N giggled at his neediness. "---But what if Lestrade is here for something important, though? Like last week---" she gasped as Sherlock nipped her ear between his teeth. "When those kids were missing?"

Sherlock stopped what he'd been doing at her neck, the mood very much ruined, but he didn't mind so much now. She had a point. Lestrade rarely comes over for cases that weren't really important. Someone might need help, and it was his job to do that. He sighed moodily. "Fine. We'll go see what he wants. But if it's stupid can we come straight back up here?" He'd let Y/N go, moving off her and helping her up from the bed. Well, more like directing her off the bed and into his arms again so he could press another kiss to her lips. 

'Wow, kissing is addictive,' he thought.' Or maybe Y/N is addictive. Can you get addicted to a person? Because I think I am.'

Not that that seems to be a bad thing. All those times he'd stood in this exact spot feeling lonely, bored, his footprints being the only ones pressed into the carpet, and now suddenly here he was with Y/N. Naked. Kissing after the best night of his life. 

She stroked a hand over his head. "Perfect. Or we could..." She nestled closer to him, the room brisk against their still-bare skin. "...cuddle up on the sofa and watch some Netflix..."