SOMETHING TO HOLD ON TO

14 June 2017

A/N: I wanted to contribute to the goodies in the Sherlolly tag on Tumblr to combat the wank. While this isn't a wank!lock fic this time, I think it's steamy enough to get our minds off the hate. Hehehehehehehehehe…

This is in present tense, which I rarely do, so please forgive any grammatical errors. This is also kind of related to my Sherlolly Week 2016 Day 6 fic, but it takes place after he comes back from the dead.

Hope y'all like this one!

I own nothing. Everything belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, BBC, Steven Moffat, and Mark Gatiss. If I owned Sherlock and Molly Hooper, then there would be a lot more Sherlolly in the show. All mistakes are mine. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome.

Sherlock walks into the bedroom with a black spiral-bound hardback sketchbook in one hand. Once he reaches Molly's side of the bed, he holds it open in front of her.

She looks up from her laptop and glances at the two portraits that her boyfriend is showing her. "Do you like them?" she asks with a hopeful smile.

Looking at the sketches, he points at the one depicting him as he lay asleep after a particularly passionate round of lovemaking. "Amazing attention to detail. You even captured the love bite on my neck perfectly. Well done, Molly."

She beams at him and wishes that he would bend down so she can kiss him. "Thanks, honey."

She smiles at the memory of the night she sketched that one. She had not been able to sleep despite the multiple mind-blowing orgasms that he gave her that night. So she decided to draw him as he slumbered.

Then he points at the next one, which features a full-body illustration of him in an elegant and expensive three-piece suit. In this one, though, his dark curls are slicked back, giving him an older, even more distinguished look. This version is holding his pocket watch as he clutches his deerstalker in the other hand. "Beautifully rendered. Where did you get the idea for this?"

"Oh, I was watching an episode of Murdoch Mysteries when you and John were in Amsterdam three weeks ago. I wondered what you'd look like if you lived during the Victorian era. So I drew that one. Do you like your hair styled like that?"

He stares at it before nodding. "Yes, I do. There used to be a portrait of my great-great-grandfather at Musgrave Hall that is identical to this sketch."

"Really? I had no idea." She reaches for the nape of his neck and urges him to bend down. She gives him a breathtaking kiss once he complies.

"Which one do you prefer?" he asks when she pulls away.

Giggling, she releases him and grabs the sketchbook from his hand. She shuts her laptop and places the open sketchbook on top of it.

He joins her in bed and gestures towards his luxuriant curls. "Do you prefer my hair like this?" He points at the Victorian sketch of him again. "Or do you like my hair slicked back like that?"

She searches his face for any sign of jealousy or anger. She flashes him a relieved smile when she only sees curiosity. She hums in thought as she stares at her sketches. "I actually don't have a preference."

"You don't?"

She shakes her head. "As long as I have hair to hold on to, I'm happy." Then she gives him a seductive wink.

His mouth curls into a wicked grin before he takes her laptop and sketchbook and sets them on her bedside table. He gives her a chaste kiss on the cheek while his hand squeezes her breast through her pyjama top. He cocks an eyebrow. "Wanna shag?"

Snickering, she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "Real romantic, Sherlock." But she peels off her top anyway before gripping the hem of his grey nightshirt.

Chuckling, he takes off his shirt and then seizes the waistband of her pyjama bottoms.

Later, Molly's screams of pleasure make Toby yelp, prompting her to giggle and open her eyes. She looks down at Sherlock, whose tongue is still inside her, and tugs at his hair. This earns her a wanton moan that makes her throb mere seconds after climaxing for the third time. "I want another orgasm before you put your cock in me," she says in a voice that is hoarse from screaming.

He pulls his tongue out of her and looks up, his face glistening with her juices and his pupils nearly black with lust. "Yes, Mistress." Then he goes back to work.

Closing her eyes, she pinches her nipple as she tightens her hold on his hair. It takes only a few minutes before she is clenching around his fingers and crying out his name.

I didn't intend to add some domme!Molly in this. I've never done any BDSM, so I hope this is all right.

Molly's explanation for not having any preference between Sherlock's luxuriant curly hair and his slicked back hair is 100% me every time I rewatch TAB.

So what do you think? Hate it? Like it? Love it?