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[theonewhocounted]

The Bright Spot Meme


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

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[punchmeitssubtext]

He's going to need to spend some time in one of his bolt-holes, before the cleanup at 221 is done, composing a piece for his violin that has the same urgent rising cadence as Molly Hooper fucking his mouth to climax. Because he wants some sort of concrete record, outside of his own memory, of how captivating she is as she ascends.

She makes one of those impossibly sweet sounds, and then he feels the orgasm surge through her entire body, feels her thighs jerk and shudder and the bedsheets under them tense as her toes dig into them. He nearly purrs against her clit as he coaxes her through it, slowing gradually, letting her ride the wave of heat as long as possible.

[theonewhocounted]

"Fuck, fuck," she whines with each pulse, feeling him continue to urge her on. Her body twitches with the aftershocks and it takes a while until she can take in a deep breath and let it out, relaxing into the bed. She's still panting a bit as her eyes open and try to focus down at him.

"Think I need to pen a thank you note to the creators of those amateur lesbian sex videos."

[punchmeitssubtext]

From the shortness of breath and the airy tone he can tell she's still somewhat dizzy from the orgasm. Which somehow makes her comment so funny, so something-he-refuses-to-call-adorable, that he can't help the warm laugh that tumbles out of him as he eases his fingers out of her.

"If a thing's worth doing," he manages, between giggles, shifting to spread out next to her on the mattress again.

[theonewhocounted]

Molly doesn't have the breath to laugh properly right now, but she gives him a blissful sort of grin as he sprawls next to her and blinks slowly. The world is starting to come back to her and he is the center of it right now.

"Glad I'm worth doing," she jokes. She's full of them this morning. Sex makes her (think she's) funny.

[punchmeitssubtext]

She's happy right now. It's written all over her, even in the little lingering tremors from her overstimulated nerves and in her rumpled hair. Sherlock, who'd never thought he would have a friend in his life, is within arm's reach of someone who is happy because of him.

That thought pulls him into free fall for a moment. The world outside of this space they're sharing may be unfair and endlessly noisy and full of morons, but he can make Molly Hooper happy.

He leans in to kiss her, still smiling.

[theonewhocounted]

Molly kisses him back, feeling a shift in him from playful to thoughtful in an instant. But it feels like good thoughtful, not 'get out of your head, Sherlock' thoughtful. She can taste herself on his lips and it amazes her the shades of him she's able to see in mere minutes - from a bloody frustrating sexual prodigy one moment to a friend she can joke with the next, and on to a tender lover in the next. She thinks it's exactly what it should be like - this comfort level. It makes the next question easy and not awkward to ask.

"You have some choices to make here," she leads with as her hand searches and easily finds his erection between them, circling around it. "We can either have intercourse - you on top this time if you'd like - or I can perform fellatio. Or whatever you like, really....Well....within reason."

She's not sure how far his research has gone yet and if he's discovered any sorts of kinks. She imagines Sherlock will have kinks. He seems the type. Molly has a couple herself.

[punchmeitssubtext]

Molly is, he somehow has the capacity to note, a very fast learner. Though that thought has to be shoved aside for later as her fingers brush and curl around his erection. He draws a hot, shuddering breath, hips tilting forward slightly.

"You wanted to begin with fellatio last night," he says, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. "And I'm--ah--still curious about it. Though I do want to have intercourse again after breakfast..."

That last word comes out somewhat higher than the rest as her fingers slide over his hot skin in a particularly distracting way.

[theonewhocounted]

It's Molly's turn to grin deviously.

"Horny school boy," she tuts fondly as she strokes him, revels in the uneven breathing she's already managed to cause in him. She then kisses his lips one more long, slow time before she gently pushes him onto his back so she can start to explore his body the way he'd done to her.

There is something to be said for him being a virgin until just last night - he seems to have the libido of a guy in his early 20s and if Saturday was any indication, the refractory period of a younger man too. It hits her then that she's taken Sherlock's virginity. It's juvenile, but she can't help but feel bloody proud of that.

[punchmeitssubtext]

He's been keeping a lot bottled up for a very long time, has been denying himself without admitting it, and now that she's opened up this part of him there's years' worth of energy and curiosity that needs to be let out. Which he knows should frighten him somewhat, or at least alarm him--but she likes this, she wants him every bit as fiercely as he wants her, and she's completely trustworthy.

Sherlock allows her to roll him to his back, smoothly and gracefully, sighing out a long breath into their kiss. The same sort of warm shiver he'd felt when she pulled his hair a bit earlier runs down his chest now, and he brings a hand up to curve around the back of her neck, just to have one more point of contact between them.

[theonewhocounted]

She kisses him a moment longer before she starts trailing her kisses down his jaw and neck, spending some time licking and scraping her teeth gently over collar bones until she gets to his chest. Her hands slide over his ribcage and she feels his heart strong and hammering away. He's still not in the best health, but he's alive and she's going to do everything to help him stay that way. (Her psychiatrist would say she's a 'fixer' - feels the need to fix broken people. Molly knows this only really applies to one person.)

"Did any of your porn viewing include videos of blow jobs?" she asks him in between sucking and licking on his skin and nicpples.

[punchmeitssubtext]

Subconsciously, the emotional priorities of this relationship shift slightly for him as she explores his throat and chest with those burning touches and kisses. He knows he was wrong, completely and idiotically wrong about her mouth, and at some point he's going to make sure she knows it.

The question makes its way through a haze of pleasure. God, he loves that she's so specific, that she owns her self-knowledge and is unafraid to let him know how much of it she has for his benefit.

"A few," he admits, hoarsely. "Admittedly it wasn't the centre of my focus as I was researching."

[theonewhocounted]

"Mm, " she hums against his skin as she moves lower, mouth nipping down to his hips bones. She shifts so she's between his legs. Her hands slide up and down his thighs. As with the night before, her focus is is on his cock but she's not yet touching it.

She looks up his body sprawled out for her again and stops to appreciate that he is all hers.

[punchmeitssubtext]

He shivers, knowing this time there's no imminent expectation other than her mouth finally closing over him. And the hungry, possessive way she looks at his bare body only intensifies the heat that's shutting down enormous blocks of his higher brain function. This exploration, this experience, belongs entirely to her and she knows it. He's at her mercy. Logically he knows that should register as something dangerous, something he should run from, but it's impossible to justify any of those thoughts while her clever hands sweep down his sides and along his thighs.

Instead, somehow--because he's Sherlock and if Sherlock can do any one thing well it's talk--he sort of keeps rattling on.

"And I mostly--fast forwarded through the blowjobs. Didn't think I could learn any--hah--anything useful if I wasn't experiencing it firsthand..."

[theonewhocounted]

"You could just watch to enjoy it," she points out as her hands slide closer to their target. "Could imagine it's you they're blowing. I think that's what guys do."

Her hand curls around the base of his shaft and strokes up slowly as she continues to watch him.

[punchmeitssubtext]

"I could, but that mmh..." Something in his brain fizzles briefly, like a failing electrical connection, when her hand wraps around him. Thankfully it burns away any capacity he has to be ashamed that he's just whimpered at her touch. "...that... hasn't actually... worked."

[theonewhocounted]

"Maybe because you haven't experienced it before," she says as she strokes him again. "You can't know what it's like."

Something that's about to change. Without any warning she leans down and presses the flat of her tongue against his shaft and licks upward. Once at the top she swirls it around his tip. She manages to keep her eyes on his face to see his reaction.

[punchmeitssubtext]

Whatever reply he might have come up with abruptly blurs and warps into a breathless "oh god" as she drags her tongue up the length of his cock. Sherlock tries to stay focused on her, to maintain eye contact, but then she begins to slide the tip of her tongue around the head of his prick and his eyes slip shut for a second out of some sheer primal instinct to concentrate on how this feels.

One of his hands lifts to touch her, fingers threading through her rumpled hair.

[theonewhocounted]

The look on his face is pure bliss and it gives her her own jolt of pleasure. Her tongue laps at him again as her hand strokes him in between. His hand in her hair makes her hum, something she knows he'll also appreciate.

Her free hand keeps massaging at the crease of his hip.

[punchmeitssubtext]

Her voice actually vibrates against his cock, sends a soft hot wave of breath over sensitive skin, and even though rationally he knows his spine can't actually be dissolving that's what his nerves are telling him is happening as she puts her clever mouth and hands to work on him. His fingers flex in her hair, and he opens his eyes to look down at her again, to watch how she's going to take him apart for as long as he can manage.

[theonewhocounted]

Molly feels him looking at her so she lifts her eyes to meet his just as her mouth closes over the head of his cock and sucks gently. Her hand works the rest of his shaft and she hums again. He tastes salty and sweet, and god, she is sucking Sherlock's cock. She can feel herself getting wet again.

[punchmeitssubtext]

With her mouth sealed over the head of his cock, that hum registers even more deeply in his nerves, a wonderfully agonizing tingling that makes his hips tilt into her touch. What's somehow more astonishing, though, is that he can tell--from the flush on her cheeks, her red lips, her impossibly soft eyes--that she's aroused by this. Getting him off is turning her on.

"More," he hears himself breathe.

[theonewhocounted]

She hums in agreement before she pops him out of her mouth and laps at him in succession and with enthusiasm.. It's like he's the best lollipop she's ever tasted. And while she'll never think a penis tastes especially good, it doesn't matter when she can make him feel like that; can give him such intense pleasure. She just wants him to lose his mind over it. She wants to see him completely unravel because of the hat she's doing.

After some more licking, she slides him into her mouth again, taking more of him down. Her hand continues to stroke in time with the movement of her mouth bobbing up and down. Molly can't deep throat but she's found that hardly matters to most men. She glances up at him again to gague his reaction.

[punchmeitssubtext]

It's not that much deeper than before, but her pulling him just that little bit further into her mouth draws a harsh gasp from him. His head drops back for a moment as she looks up at him, and he moans, one of those long low rumbling sounds he can't seem to control.

He shifts a bit, squirming to shift his legs wider apart, head lifting again so he can keep watching her. Again his fingers curl and uncurl in her hair. His mouth opens and closes several times as he searches for something to say and can only fish up more wordless noises of approval.

Distantly he knows this won't take long at all. Sherlock might be more self-conscious about that if Molly wasn't sucking all his higher brain functions out of him through his cock right now.

[theonewhocounted]

This is what she wants, him speechless and moaning and gasping. It is music to her ears and causes her to try pulling more of them from him. After a quick break where she pops him out of her mouth and kisses the head a few times, she then takes him in even further. Her head bobs and she's totally focused on getting him off. The hand that was massaging his thigh moves to tug on his balls gently and she hums, knowing he enjoys the vibrations.

[punchmeitssubtext]

Christ, he's never really understood the upside of those things but now her long fingers are playing with them and suddenly he has to grab at the bedsheets with the hand that's not tangled in her hair. His thighs are taut, his breathing taking on a rasping edge. Her voice thrums through his cock again and the language centers in his brain somehow find just enough power to let her know she's dragging him under.

"Molly," he says, helpless, almost a whimper.