A/N: I'm back. Briefly. I've just started uni up again and I have a small burst of creativity, spawned by procrastination though. Anyway, this is set when Molly was caring for Sherlock while he was weaning himself off the drugs. Naturally his once lucid mind is craving to learn, to distract himself and well he's only a man. Still... yeah AU smutty thing.
Enjoy!
"Sherlock it's not…" She calmed her breathing to stop her stutter, "not going to happen." She knew she was blushing to the roots of her hair.
"Molly please." He wheedled in an almost petulant tone, so much so that she looked up to laugh at him only to catch sight of those gorgeous eyes. Those eyes that melted her no matter what he wanted. Mostly.
"Sherlock seriously." She turned her body away and let out a sigh of despair. Sherlock cold turkey was an interesting experience. Annoying some days, angry the next, child like the third and sometimes he behaved… sexually. The thought of those wickedly long fingers on her body had brought to her orgasm a fair few times but Molly had been safe in the knowledge that the high and mighty Sherlock Holmes did not lower himself to baseless carnal behaviour. Only it seemed Sherlock weaning himself off drugs did do carnal behaviour. Like what he was suggesting now.
"Please Molly, I want to learn and learning about your body seems like a good choice." The tone was interested, but seemingly in a scientific way, detached but interested in her anatomy and not in what made her scream.
"Sherlock…" He could see she was wavering and he leant forward.
"Molly I promise we will never speak of it again unless you wish to but please Molly. I know you're aroused, your pupils are dilated and your breathing quickens every so often. I've also noticed that you only stutter around me and not around any of your housemates. This means…"
"To shut you up I will do it." She cut across him suddenly and Sherlock's eyes lit up. "Now?" She looked at his face. "You want me to do it now?!" He nodded eagerly and Molly cursed every deity she's ever known that she was agreeing to be another experiment of his. Why couldn't Sherlock be normal and look up porn if he wanted to watch women get off. Surely there was a prostitute he could pay for?!
No instead he wanted to watch a mortified Molly Hooper touch herself.
Closing her eyes tightly Molly tried to zone out Sherlock, cursing her sheer stupidity for this even if a small part of her wanted to see how Sherlock would react and slipped her hand beneath the waistband of her trousers. Beneath her knickers until she found her body ready and waiting for something other than her own fingers. Curse Sherlock and his gorgeous smell, smile and ugh perfection.
She was allowing herself to relax into a normal rhythm when she heard him cough. Cracking one eye open, she tried to ignore any bud of embarrassment that was threatening to bloom when his voice crackled.
"Take them off." Was there a husky tone to his voice?
"Sorry?" Her mind was fogged by the fantasy she had been slowly building to register his words.
"Please Molly, take your trousers off." He was trying to clear his voice and it wasn't working. Some part of Molly's brain rationalised this was the closest she was going to have sex with Sherlock, she might as well enjoy herself and well the trousers had been giving her a cramp in her wrist so they came off without another word. Her knickers soon followed, though there was a hesitation as she shyly glanced at Sherlock before following through with the action. She believed to have imagined his intake of breath as her fingers worked their way back down.
Her fantasy soon moulded to an aristocratic man, dark curls, top hat sweeping her off her feet and taking her in the orchard. Damn she should stop reading Mills and Boon but nevertheless she had just got to the part in her mind where the handsome stranger is about to do wicked things with his fingers when she hears Sherlock unmistakeably groan. Her eyes snap open, fingers slow and she sees Sherlock shifting in his chair sweatpants tenting.
The part of her that had hoped for this is now internally screaming and without another word the pair lock eyes. Sherlock had never moved so fast as he's now atop Molly, this amazing post grad medical student that was touching herself and is now murmuring his name.
She's kissing him back and the whole world fades to just the feel of his weight above her. Then that shifts and it's his hands finishing what she started, making her pant and gasp for air.
"Molly… This is …"
"Sherlock if you dare mention anything scientific or to do with technique I will walk out and finish myself off as planned." She pulled away.
"Not saying a word." He mumbled against her throat and let out a groan when she tugged on his hair.
"Sherlock." She whined as his long digits curled inside her. "Sherlock." His name began a mantra and Sherlock couldn't help the burst of smug pride that welled inside at the sight of Molly before him. Her head was thrown back against sofa, mouth open, eyes closed, Sherlock felt this alarming need to possess her and claimed her mouth for his, muffling her noises.
"Molly, come for me." He growled, lips trailing desperately to the sensitive spot behind her ear, which his teeth grazed earning him another moan.
"Sherlock please." She keened and he bit her neck again feeling body crash and cry out around him. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she came and her come down had her body sagging between him and the sofa. "Holy fuck." She whimpered and kissed an unconscious kiss to the patch of skin she could reach on him.
Sherlock would never admit it to her but seeing her scream his name as he made her climax was better than any high heroin had ever given him. It was that train of thought that made him realise Molly Hooper was an addictive substance. One he could not afford to dabble in often. He would crave her taste, her voice, her body, her touch. He would crave her.