Hello all. I'm back to writing. I started a story on here once, it wasn't very good. But now I am here and motivated to keep up my fanfiction. Thank you for stopping by my fic. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome and I hope you enjoy.
Also I'm not too confident about my Sherlock, I always roleplay as Molly, so feel free to give me tips on how to better my Sherlock, and expect him to be pretty OOC.
Thank you to iamazonian on Tumblr for prompting me this. I appreciate it heaps.
Arranged Marriage. Sherlock was ready to be annoyed by Molly, expecting her to be a clingy love struck wife. He gets bothered though when it's been 6 months since their wedding and Molly is still minimizing all contact/communication between them.
Also it's an arranged marriage, but set in modern times. Just go with it.
Title: Winning Molly
Rated: T (For now)
I don't own Sherlock and I'm not associated to the BBC in anyway. Except in my dreams.
Sherlock was sat at their dining room table his cool blue eyes fixed intently on his wife Molly. They didn't speak often, much to his surprise, and at first, delight. Though now, after six months of marriage to her, he found himself often wishing she would talk to him, he even felt himself longing for physical contact. That was new.
Sherlock had always previously hated contact, but something about Molly didn't seem too bad. When his Mother had arranged with Mrs Hooper that Sherlock and Molly were to be wed, he'd dreaded it. Even without meeting her, he could tell she was boring and plain. Or so he'd thought. He had assumed she'd be clingy, constantly needed affection and he thought she'd get in the way. He expected her to nag at him about cleaning and eating and other boring things but she hadn't, and the rare occurrence of Sherlock being wrong transpired and he found himself actually interested in Molly Hooper.
She was interested in reading and science, things that were up high on Sherlock's list of important things. And she was actually quite beautiful, with creamy skin and huge chocolate eyes, though he'd never admit that to anyone, especially not Molly. But still Sherlock remained cold and went through with the wedding, unenthused.
Now though, he was tired of it. He wanted to kiss his wife, he wanted to hold her and discuss menial things with her. And thus he set about gaining Molly's attention.
Molly had been happy to marry Sherlock; he was a genius and the most attractive man she'd ever seen in her life. And he was rich, not that that mattered, she'd have liked him either way, but it was nice to know she'd be provided for.
She was smitten from the moment she'd laid eyes on him, his dark curly hair and piercing blue eyes drawing her to him, but he hadn't felt the same way. He'd mostly ignored her and apart from the wedding night where he'd given her a chaste kiss, he never touched her.
She was content though, she couldn't complain about her life, so she went about her tasks, not that there were many for her with the cleaning staff. She did a bit of gardening every day and read the latest medical journals to pass the time. At night though she lay in bed, next to Sherlock if he decided to sleep, never touching each other and it was lonely. But she continued on, telling herself things could be worse.
She was currently in the kitchenette, chopping up herself a salad to go outside and have lunch by the pool. She gathered her bowl, heading through the manor outside into the warm, summer air and sat down at the poolside table, enjoying the heat as she began to eat.
She'd been eating for a few minutes when she heard the side door open; followed by the pool gate and she looked up, seeing Sherlock in his bathing suit. Her cheeks warmed a bit as her eyes ran across his chest, taking in the toned muscles and sprinkling of blonde chest hair. Her heart rate increased and she bit her lower lip, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she tried to concentrate on her food, unsuccessfully.
She looked up at the splash, seeing Sherlock now submerged in the water, as he broke through the surface, his dark curls plastered to his forehead. She couldn't stop staring, he was gorgeous, almost unfairly so.
Sherlock knew Molly was attracted to him, he observed the way her pupils dilated whenever she looked at him, her heart rate usually increasing, and more than once he'd heard her mumble his name in her sleep, in a very endearing way.
Which was why he'd begun going to bed earlier than usual, to lay with Molly whilst she slept, he used to rarely sleep but now he found the warmth of his bed much more comforting with her in it too. Which was why he'd decided to go for a swim, he knew Molly would be outside; she often ate outside on warmer days.
So he changed into his swimming boxers, running a hand through his messy hair as he made his way over to the pool.
He didn't know why he felt nervous, he knew Molly was attracted to him, but he didn't know if she liked him or not, and Sherlock never could stand not knowing something. He felt Molly's eyes on him as he dived in the pool and he couldn't help but grin.
As he broke the surface, Molly fidgeted with the hem of her dress, angling her body towards his.
"Hello Sherlock" She called standing and walking to the edge of the pool, clearly flustered. Molly watched him, kicking off her shoes before sitting on the edge, dangling her feet into the cool water as she hiked up her dress to keep it from getting wet.
"Quiet day then? You don't usually swim" she murmured, swirling her feet in the water.
Sherlock grinned, swimming to the edge of the pool, looking up at her.
"I've nothing better to do. Care to join me?" As he spoke his eyes roamed her pale legs, feeling a rise in his chest he looked away.
"No, I don't think so, I want to go down the gardens, pick some flowers for the dinner table." Her blush spread to her neck as she stood, thinking it best to leave him to his own as she made her way through the gate with a small goodbye.
Sherlock frowned to himself; perhaps Molly didn't realize he was interested. This meant he'd have to be more obvious, and that he'd have to make the first move, and although he was confident, he was unfamiliar with relationships and was unsure how to approach her.
Though he reminded himself, they were already married, so there wouldn't be any harm in contact. She was after all his wife, and normal spouses were intimate with each other regularly, or so he'd read.
Molly was still in the garden, gathering roses for the vase, her thoughts still on Sherlock. She longed to kiss him, to touch him, anything really, but she'd gotten used to him ignoring her, and she wasn't going to push him to do anything he didn't want to.
There wasn't a doubt in her head though, she loved him, she'd been in love with him for months.
Sherlock didn't come to tea, it wasn't an usual occurrence, he regularly skipped meals so Molly ate alone. After her meal she went to one of the lounges to read before finally retiring for the night. She hadn't seen Sherlock since earlier that day.
As she made her way up the stairs and down the hall to their bedroom she opened the door to find Sherlock already in bed. It was a warm night so he'd kicked off the sheets and was laying there in his pyjama pants, shirtless.
Her face immediately warmed, she didn't think she'd ever get used to the sight of a shirtless Sherlock. No matter how many times she saw the pale planes of his chest, they always made her knees feel weak.
He had his eyes closed and though he didn't usually sleep, there was the odd occasion where he'd sleep for hours. Today was most likely one of those days, so she quietly crossed the room to their en suite and turned on the shower.
She washed her long hair, taking extra time to let the hot water relax her muscles before drying herself and redressing in a singlet and pyjama shorts, pulling her hair back into a loose braid. She climbed into the huge bed, pulling just the sheet over them both and turning onto her side, facing away from Sherlock out of habit.
She'd just began to drift off when she felt a shift in the mattress, followed by a warm body pressed flush against her back, Sherlock's arm snaking around her waist. Molly opened her mouth to question him but decided against it.
The intimacy was far too nice for her to ruin so she snuggled back against him, letting her eyes close and soon falling into a peaceful sleep.
Sherlock had spent the day planning how to approach Molly. He knew she was rather traditional, though she didn't like a big fuss made so eventually he'd decided on the simple task of 'spooning,' as he'd read on the internet.
It didn't seem too horrible and as he lay in bed waiting for her, he actually felt almost excited at the prospect. Starting slowly and working his way up was how he'd decided to win her. And though he'd never say it, out loud Sherlock Holmes was nervous.
She hadn't complained, much to his delight and she'd pressed back against him. She smelt like shampoo and powder and woman and he swore his stomach did flips.
He should have done this much earlier, he mused, having Molly close to him wasn't horrible at all and he found himself burying his face in her neck, drifting off to sleep.
So that's my first attempt at writing a proper Sherlolly fanfiction. I originally intended this to be a oneshot, but I might write a few more chapters, if people read this. Once again thanks to iamazonian for the prompt and constructive critiscism/reviews would be much appreciated. Let me know if you'd like another chapter.