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Kiss Meme | Accepting

not Mrs. Hudson). John and Greg and the rest of the NSY were out trying to track him down, and while Molly had great faith in the lot of them, the truth was they weren’t Sherlock Holmes. Even Mycroft looked worried when he came to the morgue to see when the last time she’d seen his brother.

It was going on day three and Molly was working the overnight shift at Bart’s when she got a call from Greg. Sherlock had been located and he was en route to Bart’s in an ambulance. He assure her that Sherlock was fine, but she still thought the worst as she rushed up to A&E. When the ambulance pulled in, the lights were off (good sign) and when the back doors opened, instead of the technicians wheeling out a gurney with Sherlock on top, he was instead pushing them aside and telling them that he could walk perfectly fine, thank you.

He looked a bit beat up and dirty, but clearly he was doing fine. There was such a relief in seeing him not only alive, but being his usual, bastard self, that she rushed towards him. When asked later, she would say that the intent had been to give him a hug.

“Sherlock,” she said as she looked up at him, relief in her voice.

And before she knew what she was doing she leaned up and pressed her mouth to his.

It only took a millisecond to realize what she was doing was not what she should be doing and she immediately stepped away from him, eyes wide in shock at herself.

“Oh…oh my…I’m sorry,” she stuttered out, face turning red. “I didn’t mean…I shouldn’t have…”

#toldabetterstory #c:sherlock #have some awkward molly #feel free to turn into a thread if you want

Hot and cold. What a contrast it was, to be between the rather cold wall and the warmth of his body. The exchange was pure convenience, of course. A crafted move to get the older man on her side. It was a bit risqué, but something had to be done and well, the pig wasn’t exactly against it. It all happened rather quickly, a bit of insinuation, lust and voilà; yet another man wrapped on her vicious web of trouble. Oh, Irene Adler and her misbehaving ways. What fascinated her the most was how willing he was to do anything at all, the way his fingers desperately got lost under her skirt, the harsh kisses. And while this all unraveled, Irene’s lips were up in a knowing smirk. If only she were to know the moment would be cut short. As his lips grazed her neck, she saw him - standing a few feet away; completely ruining the mood. “This will have to continue some other time, dear. I do expect that grade to go up, at least a bit?” A sweet sweet smile adorned her lips as she shoved the man away and left him there - hanging. How fun it was, to play games. If only college were as interesting. “You know, you could at least be a bit more discreet, Mr. Holmes.”

#c:sherlock #v: young!irene

Continued from here.

“Something about did I know the Eiffel Tower is lit up by 20,000 light bulbs and if I knew how many Frenchmen it would take to change 20,000 light bulbs,” she said. “For starters. Then I think you thought you were texting John about a case.”

She scrolled through her messages from him. Some didn’t make any sense at all.

“Then I think you wanted to go for chips but you were writing in German at that point. Not my best language.”

She might find it amusing if the cause of the ridiculousness wasn’t so dire.

@mollymollyplease

#mollymollyplease #c:sherlock

Don’t Give Up

When Molly returned from her 12 hour shift that evening, she was dreaming of a hot bath, leftover curry, wine, and Netflix. A dream that burst as soon as she opened the door to her flat and saw a light coming from the sitting room and the muffled noise of the TV. She sighed.

Things had been strained between her and Sherlock since the incident at Sherrinford. He had explained everything and apologized sincerely, which she had accepted, of course. It didn’t change the fact that what she said was out there and she had to live with the knowledge that he, and a few other people, knew something she had been trying to shove down and forget herself. It made things awkward. Or at least she felt they were awkward. Sherlock had at least gone back to pretty much his normal behaviour afterward, which was both comforting and a bit disappointing if she was being honest with herself.

Molly took her time hanging up her coat and removing her shoes before she walked further into her flat. As she did, she realized with a sudden feeling of dread that what she’d been hearing wasn’t the telly at all. It was Mary’s voice and it was coming from her laptop. The disc - Mary’s last message to her. She’d left it in there. He must have found it.

“I think that was meant to be private,” she said as the laptop and its user came into view. She only hoped that he hadn’t gotten to the part about himself yet. As if Molly hadn’t been through enough embarrassment as of late.

@bakerstreetsconsultingsociopath

#bakerstreetsconsultingsociopath #c:sherlock #s:post 4 #v:tbd #hope this works!

continued from here.

skullandridingcrop

Sherlock discarded the newspaper that was proving rather useless anyway and jogged back towards Molly, ducking under her umbrella. He took it from her to hold it a little higher above their heads, adjusting for the height difference.

“Thanks. I don’t suppose you have a towel at the lab.”

He smiled. The rain had caught him off guard. He was lucky that she caught him when she did. He would have been drenched by the time he reached Bart’s otherwise. As it was, the rain was dripping from his curls.

Molly handed off the umbrella to him but wrapped her arm through his to keep herself close to him and thus, underneath the umbrella.

She smiled back at him as they walked along.

“You’re welcome. I couldn’t just let you out here to drown.”

The rain was louder now as the downpour picked up even further.

“I can nick a towel from the laundry.”

It was on the same level as the morgue anyway. Just down the hall a bit.

#skullandridingcrop #c:sherlock

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Affectionate Symbol Meme | Accepting

☂ - Your muse shares an umbrella with mine on a rainy day

Molly was a few blocks from Bart’s when she spotted him. Sherlock was hurrying up the street in long strides, but even his lanky form couldn’t avoid the sudden downpour that had enveloped the city and the free newspaper he was trying to hold over sodden curls was not helping much. At all, really.

She knew she wouldn’t be able to catch up to him so she called out to get his attention instead.

“Sherlock!”

When he turned to find the source of her voice, she waved to him from under her umbrella and then pointed up to it in invitation.

#skullandridingcrop #c:sherlock #v:tbd #thank you for sending!

Continued from here

bakerstreetsconsultingsociopath

Sherlock was growing restless just sitting at home waiting for a case to stumble upon him. He hated these lags between cases, where he had to wait for a good one to come across him. Hell, he would take a case of a missing pet if it cured him of his boredom. His boredom only made worse by the fact that John had decided to venture out with other friends for the night. He had invited Sherlock along, but he had turned him down. He’d rather not have to try and force a normal conversation with the common folk.

He walked passed a familiar alley, his eyes glancing down to see several people sitting on the ground with their eyes staring off into the distance. Two men stood shaking hands, a gesture he was all too familiar with. ‘Drugs’ he thought to himself before remembering that with John back at Baker Street there was no use of going back to the flat high. He could only block John and Mycroft’s whining voices out so much.

Instead he dug around in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He quickly lit it before tossing his lighter back into the pocket of his coat. He took a long drag of it as he had started walking down the street once again, when a familiar voice caught him off guard and stopped him in his tracks. It was rather late for Molly Hooper to be out.

Sherlock quickly averted his gaze away from the alleyway and found where her voice had come from. A while back, it would have been easy to just continue walking away but he had formed a friendship with Molly over the years and some part of him might actually feel bad if he walked away from her. Sherlock crossed the intersection, eyes surveying Molly as he did so. His first guess would have been that she had been on a date, but with further deduction he realized that wasn’t the case. “Do all of you people have a day reserved just for hanging out with mates?” he asked, stopping just before her.

Molly watched him walk towards her. He was smoking, which she’d often seen him do when agitated or bored. He must be bored if he was out roaming the streets at this hour for no reason. If he were out here on a case, he wouldn’t be smoking. He also probably wouldn’t be taking the time to actually come over to her.

“Sorry?” she asked, looking up at him, not really understanding the question. “Who are all we people?”

Maybe he meant that John was also out with mates.

#bakerstreetsconsultingsociopath #c:sherlock

cont. from here with @toldabetterstory

Molly nodded and smiled.

“I think that would be sufficient,” she confirmed, finding it terribly endearing that Sherlock was even thinking of sending anyone a Valentine’s message and that he cared enough to ask advice on the holiday’s expectations.

“I’m sure those people will be pleased to hear from you. Those who you’re not close with, may find a Valentine’s message from you odd and out of character anyway.”

Of course, his close friends might as well, but they’re still a better target audience.

#toldabetterstory #c:sherlock