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[theonewhocounted]

The Bright Spot Meme


(Was there every a more suitable meme for dear Molly?)

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[theonewhocounted]

"Yes," she breathes out as her own hand slips into her trousers to press against her mound over her knickers. "Tell me anyway?"

She doesn't specify for him to tell her what he's doing to himself or what he'd do to her. Either will be more than sufficient.

She too has barely needed much stimuli to get herself off since Saturday. Molly may not have the memory of Sherlock but she will never forget the look of him in orgasm, the feel of him fucking her with his fingers, or the sight of him licking her from them. If anything, the struggle was with blocking the images out while trying to work on Sunday. She would find her mind wandering back there and suddenly she's trying to work with wet knickers and stealing off to the loo for a quick wank during break time.

[punchmeitssubtext]

"God. Molly." He lets out a short, stuttering sigh as he pushes the waistband of his pants down--and the breath he takes as he strokes his cock slowly, root to tip, is audibly shaky. "If I were there--mm--two fingers, in deep. And I'd use my tongue on you."

He's been fantasizing about that, too, since Saturday. He knows women can have multiple orgasms without the same extensive refractory period the male body needs, and he wants to know if he can make Molly come more than once tonight.

[theonewhocounted]

The way he says her name when he's aroused makes her toes curl and her hand slips into her knickers, fingers sliding against wet flesh. She can tell by his breathing that he's touching himself too. The visual assaults her at the same time he's telling her he'd use his mouth on her and she can't help but whimper.

"Yes, please do," she says as her knees open and her fingers start sliding over her labia, circling her clit.

[punchmeitssubtext]

"You tasted good." His voice is nearing the lowest end of its register; he's almost whispering even though there's no one around to hear. But it gives him the opportunity to hear a tiny sound Molly makes, a sound that makes his fingers tighten a little on his cock.

Because now he can deduce that she's touching herself as he's talking.

His hand starts to move steadily, slowly, trying to replicate the way Molly's hand worked him on Saturday. "It made me--want to know what your clitoris feels like, on my tongue."

[theonewhocounted]

Phone sex with Sherlock has definitely been one of her past fantasies. Even under normal circumstances his voice can make her mouth go dry. Having him use that voice to tell her how he would perform oral sex on her is even better than she could have ever imagined.

Her fingers slide over her clit and she pretends it's his tongue instead and she moans.

"I want your mouth so bad," she breathes out, her hips moving with the hand in her knickers and the other coming up to massage her breast.

[punchmeitssubtext]

That moan makes his head swim for a second. It's still a surprise to him, that Molly has this kind of self-knowledge and capacity for desire, and he loves that, finds that utterly fascinating.

"You can picture it, can't you?" He shifts a little on her mattress, hips rocking slightly. "Me, watching you from--ah--from between your thighs, learning... what you like."

[theonewhocounted]

"Yes," she whimpers and can hear him shifting, the sounds of her own mattress familiar to her. Simultaneously she is picturing him in between her legs and him stroking himself while telling her about it. She's on overload from the mental stimulation. "I...I'll like it."

Not all men are talented in that area, but with women, half the battle is mental and she's not worried about being mentally aroused at all. Just seeing him between her thighs will get her halfway there. And she's certain his eagerness to learn will get her the rest of the way with no problem.

[punchmeitssubtext]

Sherlock's mind is similarly occupied: he's imagining what kinds of surprise and arousal and pleasure will cross her face, what they'll look like when he's looking up at her from between her thighs, what her face must look like right now as she fingers her clit in his bed.

It's a damn good thing he's got a very strong case for his phone, because he's gripping it so hard his knuckles have gone white.

"I want to know what you taste like when you come," he almost growls.

[theonewhocounted]

Molly whines in return.

"Yes," she says, her breath speeding up. She wants that too. She wants all of it. "Sherlock."

It's said as a breathy sort of moan. It's all the words she can muster right now.

[punchmeitssubtext]

He can practically feel her hot breath brushing his ear, and the image and the sound are so powerful that it makes one of those urgent ripples of heat surge through him.

"Molly--I want..."

The word trails off as he thrusts up into his own fist, hard and fast, spurred on by her voice.

[theonewhocounted]

"What?" she practically whispers.

She will give him anything. Whatever he wants. She always has.

Her fingers speed up on her clit and her breath catches again. She's close, her eyes shut, thinking of him sprawled out on her bed with his cock in his hand. Her knees bend so her feet can rest flat on the mattress and her hips thrust upward.

[punchmeitssubtext]

"Together," he manages, gasping. "Now--oh--"

And he can't hold back the sharp, surprised sound as he comes, heat spattering the back of his hand and his belly, fireworks going off behind his closed eyelids.

[theonewhocounted]

All it takes is the sound of him coming and she's also there, a high noise leaving her mouth as her body seizes and then spasms on his bed, her fingers still flying over her clit as her body shakes.

"Shit, shit..." she breathes out as she rides out each wave until her fingers start to slow and her body starts to relax.

[punchmeitssubtext]

The sound she makes goes through him like an extra jolt of electricity, propelling him even higher. His hips buck uselessly, reflexively, several times before the pleasure ebbs and softens.

His breathing is harsh, ragged, his skin tingling like he's getting more oxygen in his lungs somehow.

"Christ."

[theonewhocounted]

"Mmm," she agrees as she catches her own breath, her hand still in her pants but just resting against herself.

Phone sex with this man is better than some real sex she's had.

"I feel like we should be checking off all your sexual experiences on a list," she murmers once her brain returns to her body. "Keep a tally."

She hopes he doesn't find that condescending. It's not how she means it. It's just fun to think that all of these are firsts for him. It feels like something they should be keeping track of.

[punchmeitssubtext]

Sherlock's laugh comes out breathless and low, almost a pleased purr.

"I could get a notebook at the gift shop," he huffs. "How scientific of you, Molly."

That last remark is all warmth. He may not know much about being affectionate or romantic, but he knows that it's safe to be genuine with her, even if it's still difficult.

[theonewhocounted]

Molly is relieved to hear that laugh and she laughs in return, giddy from her orgasm and him.

"I was thinking of it more like a loyalty punch card," she says. "Like you get some sort of prize when you reach 10. Although, in this case, it's more like the journey is also the prize I suppose. Or I hope."

She feels like she just got a prize anyway.

[punchmeitssubtext]

This time he nearly wheezes, the laugh picking up volume and depth. (It actually spooks Toby out of his nap in the next room.)

"Wait, not like bingo, then? Line up any five and get a prize?"

[theonewhocounted]

It's almost an even bigger high to make Sherlock laugh like that and she is grinning to herself from ear to ear. She wishes she could see him.

"Oh! Bingo would be fun too," she said. "Sex bingo. I bet it would be popular in uni."

[punchmeitssubtext]

"God, that sounds like something you'd see in a tabloid headline. Uni sex bingo parties."

There's something absurd and wonderful about lying in Molly's bed, half-naked and sticky and laughing at a terrible joke they're sharing even if she's halfway across the city from him. Because even though she keeps surprising him, he knows he can trust her, that if she's playful with him there's neither malice in it nor an attempt to sort of shame him into being a version of himself she'd prefer.

Plus this is every bit as fun as shadowing a suspect through a telling deviation in their daily routine.

[theonewhocounted]

"Or the name of an awful 80s movie."

Molly smiles as she finally pulls her hand out of her pants and sits up. She checks the baby monitor and Rosie's snoozing form is still on the screen. She's breathing steadily. Molly grabs a tissue from Sherlock's bedside table and wipes her hand before dropping it into the bin. She then does up her trousers and reaches for her shirt and jumper.

She'd much prefer to be cuddled up with him, but at least she could curl up in his bed and breathe in his scent on his pillow.

"So are you going to head home soon? I was going to order lunch."

Now that they know they're not going to jump each other as soon as they're in the same room, he could come watch Rosie with her.

[punchmeitssubtext]

Sherlock rolls over to grab some tissues off of Molly's own bedside table--and though he's tempted to look in the drawer at what she may or may not have in the way of condoms (and other things), his lazy pleased mood relaxes the urge out of him. He can choose to let her surprise him again, and he wants that.

"Well, I was planning to see if you still had leftover curry in the fridge. But I can stop by in a bit, if you like, though I did want to get some stuff done between now and dinner so it doesn't distract me tomorrow."

[theonewhocounted]

"Sorry, all out of curry," she says, her voice muffled for a moment as the jumper's pulled over her head.

"Just come over whenever you'd done with your...whatever it is you have to do."

Molly's not really sure what Sherlock does when he's not solving crimes. Well, except drugs, and he better not being doing that.

"Rosie and I will be here."

[punchmeitssubtext]

((ooc: looping the comment thread because haha what 350 comments))

(Well, for today, it's largely calling in favors and actually making sure that the clean-up will be able to run smoothly for at least the next forty-eight hours without him. Sherlock is capable of planning ahead, when it's important enough to him, and this is important enough that he doesn't want anything or anyone pulling him away from it.)

"Okay. I'll stop by. Go have lunch, I'll text you when I'm close."

*

It turns out that while Molly's phone was otherwise occupied, John's actually texted her.

To: Molly
From: John

12:40: Okay, one thing. Before I left you said he's been lovely. I just want you to know, we've talked about it a little and from what I can tell he really does want this to work. So I just want you to know, if he's lovely, it's because he means it. And good on you.

12:43: Anyway, see you later. :)

He's actually not the only one. One of her coworkers at Barts is, it turns out, too intrigued by the sudden change in her to keep quiet.

To: Molly
From: Sophie (Work)

12:38: Molls I can't help it, I'm dying of curiosity. Tell me about him!!

*

It's almost two and a half hours before her phone goes off with one of Sherlock's text alerts again.

To: Molly
From: Sherlock

3:34 PM: John gets upset when I pick his lock. Let me in, I come bearing gifts.

[theonewhocounted]

[ooc: haha. go us! We could also continue in a new thread at any point if you wanted.]

"Okay, I'll see you later," she says to Sherlock before she hangs up. The desire to say "I love you" before she says goodbye is strong, but she's not sure they're there yet. There's one thing to say it with great emotional context during serious conversations, it's another to start using it as part of regular conversation. She's not sure if that'll ever be in the cards with Sherlock, the casual "Love you" before saying goodbye, but maybe she's wrong.

After Molly hangs up with Sherlock, she sees John's text and feels guilty that she's been having phone sex instead of keeping an eye on Rosie. She checks the monitor again though and she's still sleeping soundly. No harm then, she supposes.

To: John
From: Molly

1:00 PM: Thanks John. It's nice even just to know that he's talking about it with you. Even better to know that he's talking about it in the long term. Feels more real I guess. It's still a bit surreal all of it.

1:02 PM: You're a good friend John. A lot of this change in him is due to you. I hope you realize that.

Molly sees Sophie's text along with John's but avoids it for the time being. She's not sure what to say and she needs to go get washed up and order herself some food before Rosie wakes up.

She finally texts her after she's had lunch and got Rosie changed and in her bouncy chair that she loves. It plays music and has hanging things she can try to play with and it means Molly isn't holding her all the time.

To: Sophie (Work)
From: Molly

2:30 PM: It's very new. We haven't told most people yet. So far he's wonderful though.

Molly is giving Rosie another bottle when her phone chimes with a text from Sherlock. She's not sure why he can't knock on the door like everyone else, but she stands up, putting Rosie on her hip as she goes to let him in.

"Hey," she says with a huge smile as she sees him for the first time since they said good night outside her flat on Saturday. Her stomach feels like someone just let out a jar of butterflies into it and her heart rate picks up just from the sight of him and from knowing he's hers.