♡ i wish you the happiest of all birthdays! you make this place amazing for everyone and especially for me : the rare days we don’t talk even a little feel extremely weird, haha. anyway, i’m so happy that i met you and i love you with all my heart! ♥ keep being incredible on @4-velvets
I was going to make this super angsty but decided I couldn’t do that to these two. They will always live HEA in my heart.
“I’m really sorry, Molly.” Irene’s voice trembled as she spoke, the regret in her voice clear through the phone. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to come this weekend. You know how unreliable my employer can be.”
Molly bit her lip, trying to suppress the urge to cry. Tears welled up in her eyes anyway.
She had been looking forward to Friday, the day she would finally be reunited with Irene after a three-month-long separation. She’d even bought a new outfit in anticipation of their reunion.
The revealing red dress was mocking her now, hanging demurely from her closet door.
“Th-that’s okay, Irene,” she said. “I understand.” She took a deep breath. “I miss you,” she whispered, unsure whether she wanted Irene to hear it or not.
“I miss you, too, mon chaton.” The pet name rolled off of Irene’s tongue like a caress. A shiver slid down Molly’s spine involuntarily.
“I’ll make it up to you, Molly. I promise.”
Molly was combing through her freezer, (she knew she had a tub of mint chocolate chip in here somewhere) when a loud knock sounded from her front door. Not really in the mood for company, she ignored it, hoping whoever it was would get the hint and go away.
The knocking continued, of course, because apparently she couldn’t catch a break today. Resignedly, she trudged to the door.
If it was Sherlock bloody Holmes looking for something to ease his boredom, she might actually kill him this time.
The door opened, however, to reveal the grinning face of one Irene Adler.
“Wh-what? How…?” Oh, yes, Molly, very eloquent. Exactly how one hoped to greet a lover they hadn’t seen in months.
Irene’s smirk was positively devilish.
“I said I couldn’t come this weekend, Molly, darling. I never said when I could.”
Irene: Although she takes care of others well, it worries me. When others see Wendy, they only see the bright sides of her, but as a person who sees her everyday and talks to her, I see the parts of her that are broken and hurt. Wendy can have a weak heart at times.
@lightblueelephantaki requested: can you please write a Sherlock x reader where Irene Adler comes back and the reader is jealous af, but trying to suppress it. Then she thinks Sherlock wants to be with Irene, huge fight, make up etc. I hope you can write it!! Thank you for your time!! <3
Word count: 924
warnings: language, ANGER
I really enjoyed writing this, I hope you like it!
After a long and exhausting day of work, you finally headed back to 221B. You hoped Sherlock would be in a good mood because all you wanted to do right now was to cuddle. You had to spend the day writing reports of cases at Scotland Yard with the usual annoyance of your co-workers.
You hopped on the stairs to your flat, catching the voice of a woman. You expected the usual, a client. Your eyes were droopy as you finally entered the flat, only to find what you would call a nightmare, Irene Adler.
And that wasn’t the only thing that angered you, but the fact that she was straddling Sherlock’s lap infuriated you.
Only then they were aware of your presence, which irritated you even more.
“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” she said, only turning her head and not bothering to get off your boyfriend’s lap. “Glad you could join us.”
Your eyes were now wide in disbelief. Sherlock didn’t even bother to explain anything.
“Just in time, actually,” she stated, finally getting off his lap and walking up to you. She stopped when she was an inch away from your face. “I was testing his loyalty to you, and whoopsy, he almost failed.”
You were seething with anger by now. Instead of answering her, you stepped to the side, meeting Sherlock, who was still sat on his leather chair. Your heart shattered, not only at Irene’s words but at Sherlock’s nonchalant face as well. You tried to form words but your lips had failed you, opening and closing with nothing coming out.
“Did the cat bite your tongue?” Irene asked sarcastically. The most you could do was to look at Irene and back at Sherlock. But right there, at that moment, you snapped.
“You two can have all the fun you want,” you said coldly, fixing your gaze at Sherlock.
“(Y/N)!” Sherlock called as you started heading to your shared bedroom. You didn’t respond; you didn’t want to.
“Yep, my job here is done,” said Irene, making you stop in your tracks. “Mr. Holmes, you know where to find me.”
You could hear the smirk in her voice and your anger started to take over. You turned on your heels and stomped back to the living room.
“Get the fuck out of my flat,” you growled.
“Well, I was just about to-”
“Then hurry up before I punch you in the face.”
She gave you a dirty look before finally getting out of the flat, not bothering to close the door. She turned around to say one last thing but you were quick to go and slam the door in her face before she could speak.
You didn’t want to talk to Sherlock nor even look at him. You were so deeply hurt and angered at the same time that it wasn’t healthy. However, as soon as you turned around, you were met with his broad shoulders and icy blue gaze.
“Don’t,” you said as you stepped aside and started heading back to the room.
“I thought it was fairly obvious that she was the one who came and did all of this-” he began, but you cut him off.
“You were enjoying it, weren’t you?” you turned back to face him.
“Don’t be silly.”
You laughed bitterly. “Well, what happened happened, and you can’t change that,” you clenched your jaw. “Oh, and don’t forget to call her, yeah?”
“I swear to God, (Y/N), if you don’t stop this behaviour-”
“Excuse me?! You do not get to scold me about my behav-”
“IF YOU WOULD JUST FUCKING LISTEN.”
“YOU NEVER LISTEN TO ME.”
Both of you were breathing heavily, you were both so infuriated at each other. A small part of you was almost afraid of Sherlock, he wasn’t what you would call angry very often, but when he was, oh boy.
“You know full and well how much you mean to me!” he said it so quickly he didn’t realise it, and you melted at it. but it wasn’t enough to calm the fire that was burning inside. He took a second to compose himself before continuing. “Why must you always question my loyalty?!”
“What am I supposed to think when I come home to find your ex-girlfriend straddling you in your chair?!”
“SHE WAS NEVER MY GIRLFRIEND.”
“But you loved her, Sherlock! You did, And maybe you still do.”
Sherlock was at his highest level of anger. He was so mad he wanted to prove to you and everybody in the world that you were wrong; that he loved you, and he saw nothing but your lips. In the spur of the moment, he pulled you in for a - surprisingly - soft but passionate kiss, which succeeded in bringing you both down, to turn off your angry flames. He pulled away, looking you in the eyes.
“I would never do something like that to you, (Y/N), I would never do anything that would hurt you. I… I love you.”
You closed your eyes for a second, processing everything that had just happened. How that little devil decided to come back just to begin a heated war between you. You opened your eyes again, drowning in Sherlock’s irises. At that moment, Irene didn’t matter anymore, nor did the fight. Instead, your brain replayed the certain expression Sherlock had said. It was the first time he said it to you, and it made your heart flutter.
“I love you, too, Sherlock,” you said, pulling him in for another tender kiss.
Okay, I’m grasping at straws here, but hear me out.
The first image is from ASiB, where Irene confirms that she won’t even last 6 months (without her protection after being stripped of her phone)
Quote: Sherlock to Mycroft: If you’re feeling kind lock her up. Other wise, let her go. I doubt she’ll survive long enough without her protection.
Irene: Are you expecting me to beg?
Irene: Please. You’re right. I won’t even last six months.
The second image is from HLV, where Mycroft tells Sherlock to decline a mission that will prove fatal for him in six months, and Sherlock visibly reacts to this with a start.
Mycroft: I have by the way a job offer I should like you to decline.
Sherlock: I decline your kind offer.
Mycroft: I shall pass on your regrets.
Sherlock: What was it?
Mycroft: MI6. They want to place you back into Eastern Europe. An undercover assignment that would prove fatal to you in…I think, about six months.
Sherlock (startled): Then why won’t you want me to take it?
Then there’s that article. Like I said, grasping at straws, I shall leave you to either your deductions or fantasy, whatever. Me, I’d like to fantasize that they do meet once every six months on some dangerous mission or another with Irene having to make up for her mistakes by working for the British government and Sherlock working with her from time to time. Throwing this out there for Adlock fic inspiration XD
Jimin shakes his head for the hundredth time at his roommate. Taehyung turns away from his reflection and sighs, launching himself onto Jimin’s bed (and Jimin). “Positive? Jungkook will be crushed.”
“Postive. Besides, Irene and Seulgi will be here any minute.”
“Fine, fine.” Taehyung settles into Jimin’s lap and grins at him from below, reaching up to tousle his hair like a little kid. “Well, you still look good.”
“Thanks,” Jimin says dryly, pushing Taehyung off. He leans over to check his hair in the mirror. “You too.”
There’s a banging at the door. Jimin can hear Irene and Seulgi through it, already loud and excited and chattering away. Taehyung opens the door, and they fall in, laughing.
“Tae!” Seulgi grins. “You coming with?”
“No,” Jimin replies, standing. He grabs his jean jacket and his wallet off his desk and bumps his roommate out of the way.
“Not today,” Taehyung agrees. He smirks. “I want to drink until I can’t see straight.”
Jimin snorts at that, and shakes his head. “Bye, Tae.”
“Make good choices!” Jimin just closes the door, and Irene laughs.
“Come on. Yoongi is waiting downstairs. He had to take a call from the director.”
“On a Friday night?” Seulgi sighs. “Poor kid.”
Downstairs, Yoongi is waiting for them, looking more pissed than usual. His eyes soften when Jimin reaches for his hand reassuringly.
Noraebang is fun. Jimin hits the harmonies, Irene and Seulgi are flawless as always, and Yoongi takes great pleasure in spitting every rap. Jimin likes it, likes being here with his friends. He may not be the best singer– Irene and Seulgi are the leads in the musical, after all– but it’s nice to do something without worrying about being the best. It makes him feel comfortable, at ease.
“The director is going to kill us.” Irene laughs, collapsing onto the couch beside Jimin. She reaches for her phone again. Jimin can see her scrolling through messages. “My voice is dead.”
Across the table, Seulgi laughs in agreement. She’s on her phone, too, looking eager and antsy. They have five minutes left in the room.
“Should we go?” Yoongi asks, looking down at his watch. His earlier annoyance is gone– all that remains is his normal- level grumpiness. He seems looser, too, more relaxed. He’s sitting on the other side of Jimin, knees knocking Jimin’s. Jimin suspects it’s something to do with getting lost in the music, Yoongi’s favorite hobby. Jimin can relate. Irene nods, and they all stand, slowly gathering their things.
“It’s only eleven,” Irene complains when they finally make their way out of the room. “It’s so early.”
“What should we do?” Jimin asks brightly. He’s wide awake, laughs bubblier than normal and smiles wider than ever. There’s something soothing about being with his friends, people that he doesn’t have to pretend or freeze up with. It’s been a long time since he’s gone out with the sole purpose of having fun. There’s so much else to think about, to focus on, all the time.
“Well…” Seulgi pauses, glancing over at Irene. Jimin watches their exchange, intrigued. “There’s a party a couple blocks away that we were invited to. We could go.”
“Just to check it out,” Irene adds quickly, looking at Jimin. He flushes. He’s the one they’re worried about, the guy who rarely goes out and never goes to parties. He hasn’t had a drink in a long time.