Fan Fiction (Sherlolly): The Key Ch 6

The Key

Rated M for sex –  As well as graphic description of drug use and who knows what else as the plot develops.

Disclaimer: In real life I don’t own BBC’s Sherlock. My fantasies are another story.

Author notes: continued from Ch5. Molly is in the lab analyzing mysterious samples sent to her, but she is thinking (in italics) about an incident after the Fall when Sherlock is living with her and has relapsed into drug use. The next few chapters will continue to be a flashback so they will also be in italics. I hope this doesn’t bother anyone too much, and rest assured we will be back to a normal font very soon.

APOLOGIES: Again this chapter is much later than I intended. It was supposed to be longer but I’m having trouble figuring out how to end it, so I thought I would just post what I had and figure the rest out later. It may feel a bit disjointed but I’ll take that risk. 


If Molly had to wait much longer she was sure her head would explode.

With a sudden jerk of his body Sherlock lifted himself off of her. She wanted to protest the loss of his weight but he simply  stripped her shorts off in one swift pull and kicked off his own bottoms. He slipped his hands between her knees and spread her thighs further apart, long fingers caressing the soft skin. In the haze of sensations Molly registered that Sherlock had a callus on the tip of each finger on his left hand.

“Must be from the strings of his violin,” she thought, as he continued to stroke her, tracing the femoral artery and tapping on sensitive points she didn’t even know had. Molly spread her legs wider.

She felt a hot red blush creep into her face when she realized she was writhing and pumping her hips involuntarily. She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes, trying to regain some control and stop herself from begging him to ease the ache deep in her belly.

“Open your eyes, Molly,” his voice was as velvety as the palm that now cupped her thigh, inching it’s way upward. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, sure her teeth would leave marks in her lower lip.

She felt the mattress shift as a weight landed near her head, his arm she assumed, and soon felt his lips pressing just below her ear.

“Look at me, Molly Hooper,” the deep reverberations from his voice travelling down her body making her tremble.

Sherlock’s lips worked their way up her jaw, inching towards her lower lip still snagged between her teeth. As he captured her upper lip between his own Molly released her lower lip without a conscious decision to do so. He sealed her mouth with his own, absorbing her moan before placing a soft kiss on each of her eyelids. His fingers curled in her hair once more tugging gently and the hand so close to her core gripped her thigh a little harder.

Molly opened her eyes, unfocused and bouncing around until they settled on his face. Once her delirious mind latched onto his pale blue irises, she saw the lines of strain soften from his brow as if he was relieved. Eyes locked they breathed the same air, her hands on his rib cage feeling the intercostal muscles expand and contract.

Moments or hours later, she wasn’t sure, she felt his hand slide the last few inches upward until his fingers carressed her softest skin. She felt her slick lips envelop his long fingers in their delicate folds, before cupping his entire hand over her sex.

Now that her eyes were open she was riveted to his face. She watched fascinated, as his eyes widened at the first touch of her, before sliding half closed as his mouth opened releasing his breath in a rush. She could feel the trembling in his shoulders as he explored her warm wet heat with his hand.

“Oh, Molly,” he whispered, tender and softer than she had ever heard him speak before.

On impulse she placed one hand on his face and he leaned his head into the caress. She placed her other hand over his cupped one and rolled her hips before guiding his fingers to her opening. She pressed his finger into her, her thumb caressing his sharp cheekbone as she did so.

She gasped as he slipped a second finger into her on his own and pressed the heel of his hand against her mons. She wasn’t sure if he trembled harder, or she was trembling with him. She caressed his face with both hands now, and continued to roll her hips, enjoying the way his fingers slipped in and out of her, however slight, and how the motion teased her clit under is protective hood.

The sensations were washing over her and building faster than ever before. Soon she was teetering on the edge, and with a twist of his wrist Sherlock had her tumbling into the abyss. The threw her head back, mouth opened with a soft gasp as the muscles of her sex gripping his fingers and releasing a gush of fluid.

As she slowly came back to herself, and she was able to focus on him again, he withdrew his hand slowly from her. Molly couldn’t help but whimper at the sudden emptiness. She watched mesmerized as Sherlock looked down to the wetness coating his fingers, before licking the tip of one experimentally. Then sucking the others clean with relish.

When he was done, he looked her over. Eyes sweeping over her, toe to head, lingering on the wet patch between her legs. Everywhere his eyes touched her she felt a tingle, as if it were his hand and not his gaze that lingered on her. He had the same intensity as when he was examining a particularly interesting specimen and Molly wondered if he was saving this moment somewhere in his mind palace. 

When he was done studying her, he knelt between her knees and positioned the tip of his hard length at her entrance. His eyes closed as he shuddered, and Molly could feel her pelvic muscles softening further, begging him to sink in deep.

“Yes, oh yes, Sherlock,” she urged him on.

He still had enough control left to tease her, running the tip of him up her cleft, parting the warm wet folds, pressing firmly against the bundle of nerves at the top before slipping downwards and stopping just as he reached the hollow that would guide him into her slick passage. He kept repeating this motion until her thighs were trembling, and she was hooking her legs around his lean hips, desperate for more. More pressure, more of him, just…more.

After what seemed like an eternity he slipped the head of his cock down a final time, settling it at her hot tight opening. Molly relished the rush of air that escaped him. He lifted her leg and placed it over his shoulder, fingers kneading her thigh as he began to press inside of her, oh so slowly.

The feeling of him penetrating her was so overwhelming, washing over her in stronger and stronger waves that she felt she might drown in the sensation.  She grabbed the strong thick forearm by her face, trying to anchor herself in the present moment and pressed her face into the skin underneath, waiting for him to slide all the way in.

A few moments later she was still waiting.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, an eager smile on her lips, expecting him to still be teasing her and so hot and ready she would beg him if she had to. The smile cracked as she took in his strained expression. His lips were twisted and his eyes were narrowed and angry as he stared at his own arm – the arm she had been moaning into a few seconds earlier. Confused and scared, she turned her head back to his forearm, arching her head back a little to bring the pale limb into focus.

The skin she had be nuzzling, the skin that should have been smooth and soft was rough and pock marked. In her ecstasy she hadn’t noticed.

Molly reached for his face, wanting to gently bring his attention back to her and away from whatever dark thoughts plagued him as he looked at his own ruined arm.

“Sherlock? Sherlock, look at me,” he flinched at her touch as if she’d slapped him.


Thank you to all my lovely reviewers and to those who like this fiction enough to follow it 🙂


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