Sherlock Imagines [ Book 1 ]

Jealously (Part 1)

You hummed along as you walked up the stairs, sweat beaded across your forehead. You brushed off your running shorts, opening your door. You'd just been out for a run and still felt adrelanline coursing through your veins.

"All you sinners stand up sing Hallelujah." You sung as you twirled inside, doing a little dance. "Show praise with your body..." You turned to find Sherlock sitting on the couch, an eyebrow raised. Seated in what was once John's chair was the one and only Irene Adler. You slowly closed the door, feeling a warm blush spreading across your cheeks. You cleared your throat as Irene waltzed over to you, her hips swaying. You felt her burning gaze look over you, you crossed your arms over the chest, suddenly feeling very self conscious. You most definelty knew who this woman was, and you didn't like her one bit. "Irene Adler." She extended her hand, you didn't move. "I know who you are." Your normal tone was now laced with a cold bitterness, Irene leaned in. "A bit feisty are we?" Her ruby lips pulled into a smirk, "I like that."

"What is she doing here?" You pulled away from the woman and turned towards your fiancé.  "She's in hiding and needed a place to stay for a few days."

"From what?" You looked back at Irene, your cold gaze locking with hers. "She didn't say." Sherlock looked back at his wall. "You expect me to let this woman stay here without knowing what we're getting ourseleves into?" You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at him. He stood, walking over to you, cupping your cheek, "Please?"

You felt your knees go weak at his touch. "Fine." You muttered, "She can have John's old room. I have to shower." You stormed off, only stopping when you heard Irene's voice,

"I love those shorts darling."

You felt a warm blush spread across your face and tugged down your riding shorts as far as they would go as you hurried off towards your and Sherlock's room.

***

After sliding on yoga pants and a Captain America shirt, walking towards the kitchen to throw something together for dinner. You twisted your wet hair up into a messy bun, stepping into the kitchen to find Sherlock sitting at the table looking down into his microscope, Irene sitting across from him. Her eyes fixed upon him like an animal would their prey, she was dressed in a low hanging top, her breasts on display for anyone to see. You resisted the urge to wrap your arms posseivley around Sherlock and say "Mine." Instead you walked forward with more class then any woman who felt the need to show off her boobs. You opened the cabinets, grabbing various ingredients. You opened the drawer, pulling out a knife. You aligned it with the tomato on your cuttingboard

"You know I've always had a thing for tall men." Irene leaned forward.

One knife chop.

"And don't get me started on those cheekbones." She placed her elbows on the table, her perfectly painted lips set in a smirk.

 Second knife chop.

"Y/N, darling, don't you agree?" Irene's eyes were suddenly on you.

That's when you stabbed the cutting board. Sherlock looked over at you, seeming slightly amused. "Those would be a couple of the reasons I agreed to marry him." You walked over to Sherlock, slinging an arm over his shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at you, Irene reached in front of her and pulled a tiny bit of tomato off the board and popped in her mouth, somehow making the whole thing look incredibly attractive. "That's the thing about marriage. It's just a piece of paper if it's not a hppy one." She looked at her nails, "and until you say the vows, it's just words." She smirked and locked gazes with Sherlock. You felt yourself bristle, turning away and slamming two bowls of salad infront of the two. "Dinner's ready. I'm not too hungry." And with that you turned away and marched out of the kitchen. Hoping to never see Irene's hideously attractive face ever again. You turned the corner to your room, throwing yourself on the bed and burying your face into Sherlock's pillow and letting yourself scream.

***

You tossed for what felt like the thirtieth time, sleep just wouldn't come. Your mind was alive with doubt and various thoughts. You rolled over to find Sherlock's side of the bed still empty. You pushed yourself to your feet, pulling a blanket around yourself, covering your tank top and shorts. With a sexual predator, or the "Dominatrix" prowling the house, you didn't want any skin showing except for your face. You walked into the living room to find Sherlock sitting on the couch, deep in thought, while Irene was draping herself over the arm of the couch. She had a hand on his shoulder, her blood red nails clinging to him. You fought the urge to throw something at her then and there. "Sherlock, it's late." You yawned, wiggling your bare toes. Irene ran a hand through Sherlock's curls, and he was still oblivious. You narrowed your eyes slightly. Your emergency gun was just under the coffee table.....

You mentally slapped yourself, you were not shooting this woman.

Well not right now anyway.

You walked over to Sherlock and sat down next to him, holding your warm blanket around yourself. You snuggled into Sherlock's side and he wrapped his arm around you, you had to admit he was getting better at this "relationship" thing. "Thank you Miss Adler, but I believe Y/N is all the company I need right now." You couldn't help but grin as Irene's eyes widened slightly. She cleared her throat slightly before climbing off the couch and walked off towards her room. You fought the urge to stick your tongue out at her.

Sherlock looked down at you, an amused look upon his face.

"What's so funny?" You asked, snuggling into him more.

"You don't have to be jealous."

"I'm not jealous!" You protested.

"You look ready to commit homicide whenever she's near, you almost hurt yourself with the knife earlier while you were cooking." He looked down at you, his gaze softening. "There's nothing for you to worry about." His tone softened, a very rare thing indeed. "Your the only woman I love, no woman will change that."

"Not even a famous domanatrix?" You peeped from your snuggly igloo.

"Not even a famous domantrix." He pulled you closer, burying his face in your hair and you let sleep  over come you, this time , your mind was perfectly at rest.

a/n

heyo! i'm in the process of getting my phone fixed. By process I mean scavenging for money to get it fixed. I 'm gonna write a part 2 cause this is getting too long. Do you guys like the long ones?

I've returned to my Taylor Swift obsession so I apologize in advance if there is a spam of Taylor Swift inspired oneshots. Sorry for the lack of updates but with a broken phone I haven't had five consective minutes to sit down and write. I miss my morning and afternoon bus ride writing sessions.

TANGENT DETECTED

ok so pleeeeeeeeaasssssssse comment songs for me to use, I enjoying writing music based ones. Here's my current music to do list:

~ Teardrops on my Guitar.

That's all I got. Halp.

Bye bye for now