Sherlock X Reader One Shots || 𝐹𝐿𝑈𝐹𝐹 + 𝑆𝑀𝑈𝑇

Salt (Explicit)

"And yet you let me anyway," he teased, creasing his eyebrows in mock pity.

When Y/N didn't move, he leaned forwards and licked the cream from her nose. If she tasted of suntan lotion, he didn't seem to mind. "Better?"

Y/N forced her lips into a line. "No. I think I deserve another lick. As compensation."

He shook his head. "I think that would be an indulgence, frankly." He used his lips to bite the top of the icecream clean off. He didn't lick them clean; he knew Y/N was staring. He probably knew she'd lick them clean for him, too.

"We're married now, we have to share our assets," Y/N pointed out; a statement she did not stand by. There are several things in their apartment she wants nothing to do with. Like that blood-encrusted harpoon he keeps by the front door. And that bag of hauntingly-unlabelled red squishy stuff in the fridge.

"Don't think I won't divorce you over ice cream, because I will, Y/N." He'd closed his eyes, making a show of savouring the treat Y/N was missing.

Y/N used this as an opportunity to straddle his thighs, her knees pressed into the sand either side of his hips.

Sherlock's eyes flicked open with a mischievous glint sharp as chipped of aventurine.

Sometimes Y/N wonders whether he eats things just because he knows she will physically fight him for a taste. 

She let herself settle into his lap, getting the soft edge of a moan. It took Sherlock a few moments to open his eyes. When he did, they were creased with a grin. His free hand gravitated to the dip of Y/N's waist. 

"Hello."

"Just one lick."

"Hmm, where have I heard that before?"

Electing to ignore that, Y/N pushed her head forwards to claim her share of the ice cream---but Sherlock just moved it smoothly out of her path.

The corner of his lip twitched. It's stained blue from bubblegum sauce. "Nice try."

He released Y/N's waist to prop himself up with one arm, letting his legs stretch out leisurely. He'd reached the crisp cone of the dessert now, and had to dip his tongue deep inside to extract the remaining ice cream.

Y/N watched him with entranced fascination.

When all cream was well and truly out of his reach, he finished off the cone in a series of crunchy mouthfuls, popping the remaining pointed end into his mouth.

"Enjoy yourself?" Y/N asked, the 'ff' morphing into a little squeak as Sherlock took her hips and lifted her easily off his lap.

Before she knew what was happening, he'd pushed her back into the sand, his body crouched over hers as though she were prey he'd just expertly tackled. The look in his eyes was about the same as he caught her lips for a sweet, ice-cream-flavoured kiss.

"I am now," he replied in all but a growl. His hands found her wrists and climbed them, painfully slowly, to smother her hands, pushing her knuckles into the warm, gritty sand. At the same time, his lips smothered her mouth again, his tongue slick as he fought back Y/N's attempts to take back a little command. 

When he broke the kiss, he dragged his wet lips over her flushed cheeks, lingering when he reached her forehead. Nudging her hairline with his nose: "Mine."

Y/N squirmed beneath him, her heartbeat thrumming excitedly against his palms. He's still sort of hovering over her and she wishes he wouldn't. She wants him to lower himself down so she can feel his weight, the firm press of his body---of his arousal---against her front.