#mollrene

[stellagibs0ns]

there is beauty to be found in a lesbian pairing that never once interacted onscreen <3

molrene you will always be so famous to me

[spoonsrattlinggg]

I am not done yapping about Irene/Molly, sorry. This one fits multiple Kinktober themes, but I'm submitting it for Day 20: Mirror Sex. It also fits the Dominant Bottom prompt.

Returning the Favour

Molly convinces Irene to let her take the lead for one night, nervous but eager for another round of strap-on fun. Things get a little more intense than either of them expect.

This is a follow-up to another fic, but can mostly be read on its own.

Words: 5,442 Fandom: BBC Sherlock Pairing: Irene Adler/Molly Hooper Rating: Explicit (no archive warnings apply, but mind the tags)

[gregorovitch-adler]

Fondue

Molly had put on a cute, cat-themed apron, and she and Irene had been making lunch together on their day off.

Molly tucked her hair behind her ear as she continued to work on the hot sauce dip for the fondue they were making.

Suddenly, she felt a pair of slim but strong arms wrap around her waist. Molly froze in her place for a moment instinctively. Force of habit.

"What are you doing?" Irene whispered directly into her ear.

Molly shivered. "Helping you make the dip for our fondue, of course!"

"Why are we doing all this when I could be having fun 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 you in the bedroom?" Her voice had become velvety.

"We can do all that later. We talked about this," said Molly and chuckled. Her eyes were fluttering on their own.

Irene let out a short laugh. "Fine. If you say so." She kissed Molly on her neck before letting her go and getting back to work.

Molly began to help her with the cooking again. Not without feeling really hot around her face and neck, though.

**

Prompt: Fondue by @fluff-cember

Tags: @helloliriels @lisbeth-kk @jamielovesjam @topsyturvy-turtely @keirgreeneyes @gaylilsherlock @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @chriscalledmesweetie , etc.

[bbcsherlockmultishipficprompts]

Irene Adler/Molly Hooper Prompt

(originally posted by @seasalticecream32)

Molly Hooper in thigh-high tights with cat designs on them. Molly Hooper with artsy tank tops with anatomical designs all over them. Molly Hooper with dark skirts and bright patterned pants and way too many accessories. Molly with victory curls and tattoos of sirens and ships and pirates and black flags with red skulls, who inspires her best friend from childhood to love pirates as well. Who introduces The Woman and Sherlock Holmes and rolls her eyes when they try to outdo each other for her attention.

Irene with bright red lipstick and faux leather jackets and high heels and tight pants. Irene Adler with a pierced eyebrow and a pierced tongue and a glint in her eyes that says she’s got more power in her pinky than most men will ever see in their lives. Irene with a white tank top and dark fingerless gloves and a cigarette in her mouth. Irene standing in front of the mirror and putting on her war paint as Molly places distracting kisses against her neck. Irene Adler clacking her blood red nails against her vanity as she considers which disguise she’s going to wear today.

Molly Hooper and Irene Adler going out and making heads turn. Molly Hooper and Irene Adler being kick ass together. Molly Hooper and Irene Adler playing Moriarty for all the money his empire is worth. Molly Hooper and Irene Adler making sure these two big baby men don’t destroy each other in their big temper tantrums.

Molly Hooper and Irene Adler running off to explore the world and leaving behind the dirty rotten criminal world and starting up their own consulting business. They solve crimes and run official autopsies and are a thousand times more efficient because they don’t get a thrill from it—it’s a job and one they do well.  They pump money from cases into women’s homes and so they have a network of women all willing to help with any cases. In return they help provide evidence and support and protection.

They dye each other’s hair and do each other’s make up and sometimes, when Molly is tired of men feeling like Irene can be summed up entirely by her job, Molly will lace their hands together and wrap her arm around her waist and pull her close and kiss her gentle and slow and sweet and Molly finished it up by making rude gestures to the gawking men. They talk about bones and muscle and blood and poison and scar tissue and weapon patterns and bruising and people give them strange looks but Irene is fascinated.

And when Irene has a bad day at work and she is teary eyed and exhausted and can’t stand the thought of being around people, Molly is fine with staying in and curling up with hot cocoa and warm blankets and a friendly cat and watching reruns of IT crowd and Peaky Blinders and Doctor Who and letting tv numb their minds until they fall asleep with their limbs tangled together and Irene’s head in the crook of Molly’s neck and their hair a mess when they wake up and stumble into bed.

[mollyappreciationweek]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

And the AO3 collection is now open for the 2023 Molly Hooper Appreciation Week Prompt-A-Thon!

[raki-fallfallingfallenfall-2]

You’re gorgeous honey.

@raki_insta221b

[mollrenebitches]

Mollrene Headcanon #2

Molly would love to be blind-folded the first time they do it.

[afteriwake]

All She Really Needed (1/1)

And finally, I can post my pinch hit for Holmestice! It's Irene/Molly, with some mentions of an abusive relationship (not between Molly and Irene, though...It's Molly/OMC) and bad BDSM ettiquette.

All She Really Needed - Molly was all she really needed, she realized. It just took Irene a while to actually know that. Or, a relationship in nine beats.

READ @ AO3

The first time they met was at a sex club. Irene hadn’t had quite the reputation she would develop later, but she had made it known that she would train submissives if it was needed. Usually, that would mean training the dom as well, which she found vastly more fun, but the minute she stepped into the room with her and her then-boyfriend she knew this was an abusive relationship; Molly seemed scared of him, and to be honest, he seemed an arsehole of the highest degree.

Nothing would work to train him to take care of Molly, she knew that for sure.

“We don’t need you here,” she said to him coldly.

“She’s my bitch,” he replied.

“Not tonight.” The amount of malice she was trying to hold back in her tone couldn’t be measured; if she did one thing tonight, even if it was highly out of character for her, she’d try and get Molly to a place where she could at least say no to the worse things he could put her through.

He glared but left, and Irene went to Molly, undoing the collar from around her neck and getting down to her level, as Molly was on her hands and knees, not looking at her at first. Gently, Irene eased her head up. “Let’s get some coffee, shall we?”

–

They began to meet at the coffee shop once a week. Irene found that Molly had a dry and morbid sense of humor that delighted her. Once she was away from her boyfriend and had gotten a taste of freedom, she’d opened up to what an ugly relationship it actually was. Irene planted the seeds to get Molly completely free of the bastard, but they were slow to take. But now, three months later, Molly arrived at their coffee date with two suitcases.

“You left him?” Irene asked.

“I did. He didn’t take it well.” She rolled down the neck of her turtleneck and Irene could see hand marks around Molly’s neck. She wanted to kill the bastard on Molly’s behalf, or at least ruin him for life. “So I stabbed his hand with the knife he held to my throat and threatened to go after his bollocks next. Then he let me leave.”

Pride radiated in Irene’s eyes as she made a decision that would change both of their lives forever. “You’ll stay with me, then.”

“Okay.”

–

The first time Irene saw her naked, without bruises, was the day Molly took a bath and realized she’d forgotten her towel. Oh, neither woman had been naked before on purpose in front of the other, but Irene had seen glimpses of fading bruises on Molly’s pale skin for weeks, and it looked like they’d healed.

One of Irene’s favorite things to do was to braid Molly’s hair before she went to sleep. It was soothing, having something to do with her hands. And Molly seemed calmer for it, which was good. She still was worried her ex would come after her (though Irene had used some of her contacts to make sure he went far, far away...it wouldn’t be the first time she’d used Moriarty’s help and it wouldn’t be the last) but at least she was sleeping.

“The bruises seem to be gone,” she said as she brushed Molly’s hair, letting her fingers glide through the silky strands.

“You saw?” she asked.

Irene chuckled. “Not on purpose, but I did. That’s a good thing. Now you can wear whatever you want.” She paused. “Or nothing at all. This is a clothing-optional household.”

Molly smiled at her in the mirror and Irene felt her heart do a flip. Molly smiling did something to her, but she didn’t know just what it was. Not then...but soon.

–

When they kissed for the first time, Irene knew it was love.

It had been a soft, searching kiss on Molly’s behalf. Tender and light, but filled with warmth and a hint of passion. Irene let her be tentative, let her explore a bit with tongue and hands, and then when the kiss became more passionate she backed Molly against a wall, moving her hands to cup Molly’s face and swallowing her moan in the kiss. This was what she had wanted, really, ever since the coffee dates, the night they were introduced at the sex club. She wanted Molly, and she wanted Molly to want her.

And Irene usually got what she wanted.

–

Eventually, Irene let her hair down, literally and figuratively, and lets Molly be the dominant one when they make love. It was thrilling to be submissive to the woman that she loved, a thrill she’d never felt before. Molly was gentle but firm and found a fondness for the hand whip, with the soft leather cords.

Molly deserved it, after the way she’d been treated. She deserved to get what she wanted in a safe and sane environment. And Irene found she wanted to please Molly. Their lovemaking wasn’t like the sessions she had with her clients; it was interesting and fun and heartfelt, and she had never shared that much intimacy with another person, male or female of other, before.

–

But all good things come to an end, eventually, and their love affair was no exception. When Molly got out of her schooling and started her post at St. Bartholomew, they started to drift apart. As her life got more dangerous with the secrets she was keeping, the things she was holding over powerful and influential people’s heads, the more she pushed Molly away for her own good. She could accept the loss of her life for the game she was playing, but she would never forgive herself if anything happened to Molly.

That would kill her dead in a heartbeat, and she’d burn the world to get revenge.

–

Sherlock was a game.

She had no true feelings towards him one way or the other other than fascination. She had heard that Molly knew him, harbored a silly little crush (Molly’s words, not what Irene saw...she saw a strong attachment that Sherlock was stupid enough not to see himself), but she wanted to know what made him so special. What made him tick?

What made him worthy of her Molly, should things come to that?

But they didn’t. The game played out and she lost. It had been foolish to change her password to “I AM SHERLOCKED,” but if she had kept it to her usual “I AM MOLLLOCKED,” well, there would have been questions.

He was a worthy foe, but not worthy of her Molly.

Of that, she was certain.

–

“Molly asked me to rescue you.”

Those were the first words Sherlock said once they’d hunkered down in a hotel in Karachi. She was shocked, of course; how did Molly even know she had needed rescue? But Molly culled her own favors, she supposed, and this had been one of them. Asking Sherlock to save her life...what had that cost her?

That ran around in her mind as they escaped to New York City, where she could get lost in the city of lost souls. Sherlock said he’d deliver a message to Molly for her, and all she had to say was “Find me.”

–

The familiar figure approached her building in Chicago. She wasn’t poor, not by any means, but she lived a less luxe lifestyle these days in an effort to hide from those who still wanted her head. But her heart leaped as she recognized the woman with the bobbing brown ponytail come up to the steps and open the door. She’d still need to be buzzed upstairs, but that was a momentary thing.

Irene opened the door to see Molly standing in front of her, wringing her hands. “I found you,” she said.

“I missed you so,” Irene replied, opening her arms. Molly moved into them, kissing Irene, the two women laughing and crying and kissing and Irene knew no matter where she had to go, it would be home as long as Molly was with her.

And that was all she really needed, she finally realized.