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littleforksuperiority · 2 years

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Unbelievable Chapter X (Sherlock x Reader fanfic)

link to Chapter I

911 words

Chapter X

Resume of the last 3 chapters for the readers who skipped:

Y/N basically got k*dnapped by her “boyfriend” James. Sherlock came and saved her, and revealed that James was actually Jim Moriarty, Sherlocks enemy. Y/N has cuts on her wrists that Jim gave her without her knowing, and Sherlock takes her to the hospital. In the end Sherlock comforts her.

The next day, I walked up to flat b to talk to Sherlock about Irene. I did not want to talk about Jim ever again. As I walked into the flat, I found Sherlock and John sitting in their respective chairs.

‘Ah, hello Y/N,’ John smirked. Sherlock was unbothered.

‘Y/N, could you make me some coffee?’ he said, reading the latest newspaper.

‘Uhm, sure?’ I walked over to their kitchen, carefully avoiding various chemical experiments on the way. As I brewed the coffee, Sherlock said ‘black, two sugars,’ and thereby answered my unspoken question.

‘And you John?’ I asked.

‘Just a tad of creamer.’

I boiled the water, placed the coffee beans in the filter, and brewed the coffee. When I was done, I plopped two sugar cubes into one cup and went searching for the creamer. Of course, I expected it to be in the fridge, so I went and opened it, without further thought of who’s flat I was in. That was a mistake. As I opened it, I stood still in shock for a couple of seconds.

‘Everything alright?’ Sherlock asked.

‘Head. Severed head.’

‘Yes.’

I slowly closed the fridge. ‘Sherlock, why do you have a head in the fridge?’

‘I got it from the morgue. There’s nowhere else to still put it. Oh, that reminds me, I have to go there again today, which further reminds me that I have your phone. You dropped it when you fainted.’

‘How did that-, you know what never mind.’

I found the creamer standing in a half-closed cabinet and served the coffee to the boys. John, grateful as always, responded with a thank you. Sherlock handed me my phone. 15 missed calls. All from my boss. Oh shit. I quickly called him back. I don’t think you’d have to be Sherlock to figure out what happened. As I had not been at work for weeks and hadn’t even called in to say so, I got fired. I wanted to explain my absence but had no words. How could I explain getting kidnapped by my boyfriend who in reality was my friend’s enemy?

‘What’s wrong?’ John asked as I hung up.

‘Oh, nothing. It is just hard to maintain one’s job when you haven’t been there for weeks.’ I smiled, trying to hide the fact that I was sad. I really did love that job.

‘Good, then you can accompany me to the morgue!’ Sherlock said, finishing his coffee.

‘Sherlock…’ John exclaimed.

‘It’s fine John. Yes, I’d love to go with you, Sherlock.’

Sherlock looked confused. ‘It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.’ And with that, he walked out to get his coat.

---

We took a cab down to the morgue, and Sherlock explained the reason for our trip on the way. He was going to X-ray the phone to figure out if he could get any information from that. He was a strange one.

As we walked into the morgue, a young woman came to meet us.

‘Molly, hello,’ Sherlock waved.

‘Hi Sherlock, and…’ she stopped.

‘Y/N,’ I shook her hand. She smiled awkwardly, but seemed somehow disappointed?

Molly lead Sherlock and me up to the lab, where Sherlock quickly got to work. I stood leaned up against a cabinet behind him, closely following his every move.

‘Is that a phone?’ Molly asked.

‘A camera phone,’ he answered, not looking away from the screen. It displayed four small dark areas on the phone.

‘And you’re X-raying it?’ she continued.

‘Yes, I am.’

‘Is it your girlfriend’s phone?’ Molly looked at me.

Sherlock sighed, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘You think she’s my girlfriend because I’m X-raying her possessions?’

‘Well, we all do silly things.’

‘Yes. They do, don’t they? Very silly.’ He lifted his head from the screen, took out the phone from the machine and stood up. He opened it and typed something in. I think it was 221B, but I couldn’t see it clearly. The phone beeped and displayed the message: ‘WRONG PASSCODE. 2 ATTEMPTS REMAINING.’ With a disappointed movement, he sat down again.

‘Right Sherlock, I’m just going to talk to Molly for a second. Be right back.’

He made a grunting noise of approval, and I took Molly’s arm in mine and walked out.

‘So… you’re Sherlock’s girlfriend?’ she asked.

I laughed loudly, and quickly covered my mouth as I realised my rudeness. ‘No. Nope. Never. I am not Sherlock’s girlfriend, and he doesn’t have one either,’ I winked. Molly looked confused. I sighed. ‘Have you asked him out yet?’ She froze wide-eyed.

‘What?’

‘Oh, come on, you’re obviously into him. Have you asked him out?’

‘Well, I asked if he wanted coffee…’

‘And?’

‘He just told me to bring it upstairs to him.’

I sighed. ‘Molly, you’re a smart woman. Sherlock may be the smartest man in the universe, but he has not the furthest idea on how to read social cues. Just ask him out. Properly. I mean if a lady like you came up to me and asked me that, I wouldn’t be able to say no.’ I smiled. Molly looked at me with the same awkward look on her face, though now it was with a small smile.

‘Maybe someday,’ she finally answered, and walked back into the lab. I walked after her, and though I wanted Molly to ask him out, I still felt a tug on my heart at the thought of Sherlock dating her.

#sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock fanfic #sherlock holmes #sherlock x y/n #sherlock fandom #sherlock rp #sherlockian #sherlock has feelings #sherlock imagine #sherlockbbc

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littleforksuperiority · 2 years

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Unbelievable Chapter IX (Sherlock x Reader fanfic)

Links to Chapter I and Chapter X

2788 words

Chapter IX

The last day of my stay had started like any other. James had made me pancakes and fresh-cut fruit, and he had eaten with me. We had spoken, and he had made me laugh. Then, he had left to take care of something. He always did that. At first, I had wanted to know what he was doing, but I never asked. Now I didn’t really care anymore. He was with me at all meals and most of the evenings. I really, really liked him. This forenoon I was reading a book when it struck me that I hadn’t played the flute for a while. Actually, I hadn’t played it since I got here. I didn’t know why. Must’ve slipped my mind. I walked over to the music stand, which of course was placed in the exact same place as in my flat. As I opened the flute’s case and assembled it, I thought of what I should play. Then, I remembered when Sherlock and I had played together. My eyes got teary. I missed him so much, but the things he’d done… I couldn’t believe that I actually liked that man. Now, each memory of him was filled with a newly formed fear. Oh, Sherlock.

I decided to play the title theme of Howls Moving Castle, a movie I had fallen in love with growing up, to cheer me up. I will not lie, at first the flute had sounded kind of shrill, but as it had warmed up, the room was felt with one of my favourite songs. I played this song multiple times, and it really did cheer me up. For a while, I forgot all about Sherlock. Then, the door was kicked open, and there he stood gasping for breath. He was sweating, his curly hair stuck to his forehead. ‘Y/N!’ he cried. I stood silent in shock. He had come for me anyways. James was right. Oh shit. In fear, I shouted ‘JAMES!!’ Sherlock came nearer, saying ‘you have no idea how hard I’ve looked for you, I thought you were dead!’ his voice cracked, and it almost sounded sincere.

I stepped backwards, frantically shouting ‘JAMES! JAMES, HE’S HERE. HE’VE COME FOR ME!!’ my voice cracked in fear.

Sherlock looked at me confused. ‘Y/N what’s going on?’ As I stepped further away from him, I was now fully against the wall. I heard footsteps running down the hallway. James. James came rushing towards me, and pulled me into his arms, whispering, ‘it’s okay, I’m here now darling.’ I hugged him tight, as if my life depended on it. Sherlock had stopped. He looked at us in shock. His eyes wandered from James to me and to James again. James was furious.

‘GET OUT YOU MONSTER. Y/N IS UNDER MY PROTECTION!’ he shouted.

Sherlock was silent for a moment. Then he said, ‘Jim Moriarty.’ and looked at James. I froze. What? ‘Step away from the girl,’ he continued. James looked as confused as I.

‘I have no idea what you mean. You get out of our house.’

‘I should’ve known. Who else? Who else than you would kidnap one of the people I care about?’ He scuffed.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ James said. ‘I am protecting Y/N. And I have the right to do so as her boyfriend.’

Sherlock paused again and looked at me as if he was asking if it was true. I looked away. I couldn’t bear looking at him. ‘Y/N, step away from this man. He’s dangerous,’ Sherlock said. James pulled me further in. I buried my face into his chest. ‘Y/N, this man’s real name is Jim Moriarty. This is the man I warned you about.’

‘You’re a liar. James told me everything,’ I responded with a shaky voice.

‘What?’

‘You’re at fault. For everything.’

Sherlock looked at me like he didn’t understand a word I was saying. ‘At fault for what? You don’t mean the men in my flat, do you?’

I nodded. He looked at James with an expression I had never seen touch his face before. It was as if he wanted to kill him. Then he said, ‘Y/N step away from him.’ I didn’t move. Sherlock grabbed something from his back and pointed it at James. It was a gun.

‘STEP AWAY FROM HER!’ he shouted.

‘Told you,’ James said.

‘STEP AWAY OR I’LL SHOOT!’

He wasn’t really going to shoot, was he? I slowly stepped away from James. I didn’t want him to get hurt. Sherlock lowered the gun. ‘Y/N…’

‘Y/N RUN BEFORE HE SHOOTS YOU!’ James shouted. I hesitated. I really didn’t want to leave James. But then I saw the look he gave me and bolted. I ran down the concrete hallway, searching for the exit. I went into every room I could find. Then, I found another furnished room. It was James’s. I couldn’t handle my curiosity and quickly walked in. The room was quite big and had white walls. All the furniture was either brown or grey and was pleasing to the eye. On the right, there was a desk with a laptop on. It was open. Another thing was placed on the desk. A wallet. A quick thought came to me; what if Sherlock was right. I mean surely, he wasn’t, but what if there was some truth to his words? What if James actually was Moriarty? I opened the wallet looking for some kind of ID, and there it was. His credit cards and driver’s licence. With caps stood the name ‘Jim MORIARTY,’ on both. I froze. He was Moriarty? There were two possibilities. Either, he had taken on an alias to get me away from Sherlock and protect me, because he knew Sherlock had told me about him, or… Sherlock was not the bad guy. Moriarty had kidnapped me. I wanted to run away and search for the exit, but my feet were bolted to the ground. Then I heard James’s… no, Jim’s voice behind me. He was laughing.

‘Jim? Why did you lie?’

He looked at me, gave me his biggest puppy eyes and said, ‘darling, surely you trust me, right?’ he laughed maniacally. ‘God, you are so gullible. I didn’t even have to try.’

I wanted to run away, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. Then, he came rushing at me, grabbed my hands putting them behind my back, and held them there with a firm grip. It felt like they were burning. He stood behind me and took a knife out of his pocket, which he placed at my throat. Sherlock came rushing into the room. I looked at him frantically.

‘Sorry,’ I whispered. He didn’t seem to care. In fact, he didn’t even look at me. He only looked at Jim.

‘Let. Go. Of. Her.’

‘Or what? I think I might keep her. She’s so sweet, just look at her. You could just… eat her!’ he shouted. ‘And she’s quite smart as well. I mean, except for the fact that she’s so gullible.’

‘Moriarty, this is about you and me, do not bring her into this.’

‘Why not? ‘Cus you love her? Yeah right. You don’t even care about her. You don’t care about anyone. You’re boring. You should though. Care about her. She’s a phenomenal kisser.’

I felt like I was going to faint. Jim’s grip on my hands only got tighter, and the pain was unbearable. A high-pitch sound escaped from my mouth. Sherlock’s eyes were immediately at me, and Jim’s must’ve been as well, for he pressed the knife just a bit closer to my throat. It was cold. Very cold.

‘Don’t do anything funny Sherlock, or my hand might just slip. And neither of us would want that.’

Sherlock looked down with a sigh. Then, with a quick pirouette, the gun was in his hand again. James pressed, yet again, firmer around my wrists. With a squeal, I sank to my knees. Jim luckily quickly removed the knife, so that I did not get hurt. Then, I a shot was fired. Sherlock had shot Jim in the foot, who had then fallen backwards in pain. Sherlock shouted at me to run, but the pain was too intense, and my head had gone all fuzzy. He rushed over to me, helped me stand up, and guided me out. As he himself had walked in here, he of course knew where the exit was, and it wasn’t long before we got out. Sherlock got a cab, and soon we were back at Baker Street. Sherlock escorted me to my living room and sat down with me on the couch. For a while, he just looked at me silently. Then, he spoke; ‘Y/N, what happened?’

I told him everything. The entire story, from when I was brought to Irene, then to the flat. How I was brought up the stairs, and he’d seen the rest. Then about how I had woken up in a room looking like mine, and about how Jim had “explained” everything to me. He didn’t interrupt once. Just looked at me with a thoughtful look on his face. When I was finished, he asked, ‘and you just believed him?’

‘What was I supposed to do? I had literally been beaten up by some guys in your flat, and you had arrived just at the right time. I was frightened by the discovery of not being at home, and I had no one to turn to but him.’

Sherlock paused, still with the thoughtful look on his face. Then he stood up, clapped his thighs, and said, ‘well, let’s look at those wounds on your hands. You need to change those bandages either way.’ He walked to my bathroom and brought back a roll of bandages.

‘Sherlock, I can do this on my own. I am not a child.’

‘Debatable,’ he said with a slight grin, which made me smile. It was nice to see him non-serious again. I presented my hands, holding them out in front of me. Sherlock carefully began to unwrap the dark red cloth, till it was all gone. The sight which it uncovered was dreadful. At once I understood why my wrists had hurt that much. The cut on each wrist was far deeper than any rope could’ve made. Underneath the bright red, was something white sticking out. My bone. On each hand, my ulna bone was sticking out. Sherlock froze. Then, he rushed out. I didn’t understand what he was doing, till John came into the room.

‘Oh, Y/N how good to see you! Now, what is wrong?’ he asked and walked over to me. A gasp sounded from his lips when he looked at my hands. He then looked at Sherlock, who quietly answered ‘Moriarty.’ John nodded, and quickly sat next to me, pulling a small suitcase which he had brought out. He swiftly and professionally cleaned the blood around the wounds and applied a tightly bound bandage on both wrists.

‘This will need stings.’

‘Oh, surely not. It will be fine.’ I smiled.

John shook his head. ‘No Y/N. It does need to be sewn together. And it must be at the Hospital, I don’t have the facilities here.’

I think I was kind of scared. Of going to the hospital. Not because I had never been at one, because I had. But because that meant that I was hurt. That I was vulnerable. I didn’t want to be vulnerable, I wanted to be mighty and strong. Fearless. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t. I was just a little girl. Barely even worthy of the title of a woman.

‘I will take Y/N to the hospital,’ Sherlock said.

I shook my head as John had before. ‘I can go to the hospital on my own Mr Holmes.’

Sherlock didn’t look convinced and just looked at my hands. He was right. I couldn’t. I could barely even open a door.

So, in the end, Sherlock did escort me to the hospital. Though the waiting time was long, the procedure was quicker than I thought. I thought it was going to hurt, but since the wounds were so big, I got anaesthetized, but not so much that I lost conscience. Just so that I couldn’t feel my wrists. Sherlock was, to his amusement, mistaken for my boyfriend, not 1, nor 2, but three times.

The guy who patched me up was a rather attractive fellow. He had blonde curly hair and big blue eyes. He complimented me a number of times, but it was not till he asked if Sherlock was my boyfriend that I realised he’d been flirting with me. I will not lie, I may have flirted back, and given him some extra eye contact. It was purely for fun; I had no intentions of actually being amorous with him. It seemed to tick something off in Sherlock though, which only made it all the more fun. The doctor finished patching me up, applied a tight bandage John Watson style and shook my hand, thereby handing me a slip of paper. I shook his hand back glad that I couldn’t feel my wrists.

Sherlock had this weird look on his face the entire trip home. It was quite amusing. When we got home, he escorted me to my room. As we sat down on my bed he asked, ‘what was that about?’

‘What?’

‘You know what I’m talking about.’

‘Oh,’ I said fluttering my eyes, looking from his eyes to his lips, to his eyes again, ‘you mean this?’ I leaned in, letting my eyes linger on his lips. A small smile formed on mine, and I leaned in further than before. His cologne was so subtle that I hadn’t noticed it before, but there it was. His cheeks turned pink, which was so hilarious that I couldn’t keep the act together. I burst out laughing and accidentally fell on my back into my bed. Sherlock cleared his throat.

‘Yes. That.’

I couldn’t stop laughing. The picture of blushing Sherlock would forever be imprinted in my brain.

‘Stop laughing Y/N.’

‘Or what?’ I grabbed his elbow and pulled him down next to me, still laughing. He quickly turned around and with a swift movement, he was on top of me, looking down at me, grinning. Now it was my turn to be stunned, and I quickly felt my face turn hot.

‘Are you two ba-?’ John was standing in the doorway. Sherlock quickly stood up and flattened his shirt. John was too stunned to speak.

‘Ahem, yes. It was as you said, I got stings all around both wrists. Apparently, they’ll dissolve on their own, so I won’t have to get them out, as long as I keep re-applying bandages.’ I said, sitting up.

‘Right. I, uhm… uh… I’ll just leave so you two can continue whatever you were doing…’ John stuttered.

‘No, John it’s a misunderstanding, we weren’t-‘ I quickly exclaimed, but John had already left. Sherlock and I quietly looked at each other. I then took out the piece of paper the doctor had given me. It was, to no surprise, a phone number. Sherlock looked at it with a raised eyebrow.

‘Don’t worry Sherlock, I’m not going to call it, so there’s no reason to be jealous,’ I said mockingly, well knowing that he wouldn’t care, ‘I’m not really interested in romance.’

‘But you were with Jim, no?’

I looked up at him.

‘And it seemed like you liked it,’ he continued.

‘I don’t know… I think I was lying to myself. We had only been on two dates before he asked me to be his girlfriend, and I didn’t really have the courage to say no, so… and then the whole, you know, happened, and I was so confused. It was just easier to trust him. To like him. But I don’t think I actually did. I think I was just… I needed something to believe in, you know? Lying to myself was easier than facing the truth.’ I looked down at my hands, fidgeting with the skin around my nails. Sherlock put his hands on mine to stop me, just as I had done at Irene’s house.

‘I was just kidding, Y/N.’

I looked up at him, and it hit me that I liked him far more than I had ever liked Jim. I leaned into his chest. He froze for a second, but then wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. I wanted to stay like that forever. In his embrace. Just hide from the world, and from Moriarty. But that wasn’t a possibility. I let go of his embrace and just sat next to him for a little while.

#sherlock has feelings #bbc sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock bbc #sherlock fanfic #sherlock holmes #sherlock x y/n #sherlock fandom #sherlock rp #sherlockian

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littleforksuperiority · 2 years

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Unbelievable Chapter VIII (Sherlock x Reader fanfic)

Links to Chapter I and Chapter IX

2098 words

Chapter VIII

I woke up with a massive headache. Trying to remember what had happened before passing out, I looked around at my surroundings. I was in my own room, laying on my bed. I tried to sit up, but everything was fuzzy. ‘Ow,’ I mumbled. Someone came rushing into the room.

‘Lay down again, darling,’ his voice said.

‘Sherlock?’ I muttered. Everything was a blur.

‘Not quite, love.’

I tilted my head. ‘James?’

He came closer. It was indeed James.

‘James, why are you here?’

He sat down on the bed next to me. ‘Your neighbour called me. Said you were hurt.’

Why would Sherlock call James? He didn’t even know his name, nor face. My face must have done some kind of grimace, because James quickly said, ‘he saw me the other day, and assumed the right thing to do when a girl gets hurt was to call her boyfriend. He doesn’t really seem that great at social situations.’

I chuckled. Yeah no. Not Sherlock. Oh shit, he might be worried about me. I mean, I did just pass out.

‘Have you seen my phone? I have to make sure that he knows I’m alright, and I don’t think I’m in the best state to walk over there.’

James froze for a moment. Apparently, he hadn’t seen my phone. Weird. I had it in my pocket when I fainted. Did Sherlock take it? But why would he?

In the end, I asked James to go over and tell Sherlock. He did so, and was gone for a couple of minutes before he came back. Sherlock was apparently busy with Mrs Hudson and didn’t have time to see me. I would be lying if I said that that statement didn’t hurt. When James came back, he and I spoke for a little while, until he told me to go back to sleep. I didn’t argue.

---

When I woke up again it was morning. I instinctively panicked over missing my alarm and stood up. Then I fell back onto the bed. Right. Still not feeling the greatest. I looked at my hands and saw that the bandages had been changed. Did James change them for me? Cute. Then realisation struck. I really needed to go to work. I hadn’t gone yesterday, and I hadn’t even called in sick. Shit, shit, shit. James walked into my room. He had a wooden tray in his hands. On top, was a mountain of pancakes, a plate of fruits, a glass of orange juice and a glass of tea. There were also three different kinds of syrup. Did he make me breakfast? I smiled, and he did back.

‘Good morning, Sunshine! I made breakfast. The juice is freshly pressed.’ He placed the plate on my bed and sat down next to me. I thanked him and reached out for the juice. A searing pain struck through my wrists. It was far worse than yesterday. I let out a cry, and he looked up, shocked.

‘Are you okay, darling?’

I nodded, but my body betrayed me. Tears were forming in my eyes, and I slouched down. This hurt like hell. James reached his hands out and put my hair behind my ears. Then he grabbed my face lightly and shushed, ‘shhh, it’s alright my love. It’s going to be alright.’

I wanted to lean into him and cry. Just lay in his arms and cry my heart out. But I couldn’t. I mustn’t. He kissed me on my left cheek. And then the right. It was as if his kisses were magical; they stopped my crying. He finished by kissing my nose and looked into my eyes. ‘There,’ he said. ‘Now, which, if any, kind of syrup would you like?’

I looked at the chocolate syrup to the left. He smiled and drizzled some onto the pancakes. Then, he cut out a small bite-size piece, put it on a fork, and moved the fork over to my mouth. I reached for the fork, but he just kept holding it. Wondering what he was planning, I opened my mouth. In response, he moved the fork into my mouth, thereby feeding me. I wasn’t a child, but there was something oddly comforting about it. The pancakes were soft and fluffy. They had a sweet taste, which was enhanced by the chocolate syrup, but it wasn’t overly sweet. They were amazing.

James’s hand-fed me the rest of the meal this same way. Each time he moved his hand closer to me I became quite flustered, which surprised me. He just chuckled. When I had eaten, I told him about my worries about work. He guaranteed that it was nothing to worry about, and that I should relax as much as I needed.

As the day went on, James was with me most of the time, and we were just relaxing together. Sometimes, he had to go though, and although it was disappointing, it was also nice to have some time to myself.

At the middle of the day, I no longer felt as fatigued as before, so I stood up and walked around my room. James had been away for a while, and I wanted to tell him how much better I was, although my hands were still hurting as much as before. So, I walked over to my door, expecting him to be somewhere in the living room. But as I opened the door, nothing but confusion came over me. It was not my living room the door had opened up to, but an old cement building. It looked like just the foundation of a building, but the walls and doors were complete. My instinctive thought was that it was a basement. But I had just been in my room? I walked back through the door to my room. Yes, this was definitely my room, everything was normal. But then when I walked out… grey cement. What the fuck was this? I started walking through the corridor. ‘James!?’ I shouted. Where was he? ‘JAMES!?’ The cement was ice cold, and I was starting to freeze. Then James came hurrying towards me.

‘Y/N? What are you doing here!?’

‘James, what is this place?’ my voice was shaky. James looked worried.

‘Y/N…’

I stepped away from him. Did he bring me here? I mean he must’ve. He stepped nearer.

‘It’s for your own good, love.’

‘How can this be for my own good? I am in a cold cement building, and I do not know where the exit is. Even if I did, I wouldn’t even be able to open the door, because my bloody hands are literally dying! Oh, and the room I had stayed in the past day is an exact copy of my room. Every single detail is exactly the same as in my room. Why the fuck did you do that!? How the fuck did you do that. And do not. Do not tell me to mind my language, because I am pissed right now, and I will not.’

‘Y/N,’ he reached out for me, but I quickly backed away. ‘There’s something I have to tell you. You can judge me all you want afterwards, but I do believe that your mind will change.’ He gestured back towards “my room”. I hesitated but decided to go back. When I was sitting down again, he started to explain.

‘I was the one to bring you here, yes. And I did design the room to look like yours. But only so that you wouldn’t become worried! I thought that I could make you believe that you were at home, but I hadn’t thought that you would be so stupid to walk out when you were hurt-’ he paused to look at my disapproving expression. ‘Sorry. I just wanted you to feel safe. But I failed. The thing is… I didn’t know how to break this to you. But now I must.

First of all, Sherlock did not call me, I just happened to want to visit you. I saw him carrying you downstairs, and told him about you and me. He then let me carry you to your bed. When he was gone, I quickly got you out of there, and brought you here. While you were sleeping, I redecorated this room to look like yours. But why did I move you? The truth is... not something you’d like to know.

The truth is about Sherlock. He’s not who you think he is. It wasn’t a pure coincidence that those guys got you. He planned it. Sherlock planned for them to abuse you, and the landlady too.’

I opened my mouth but didn’t know what to say. Sherlock was at fault? ‘N-no you’re lying!’ I stuttered.

‘Do you think that it was a coincidence that John was not there? That he didn’t get hurt?’

‘John was at work!’

‘What about the fact that he seemed to come precisely on time? Or at least, he made himself known at that time. But had he not been there longer? I mean, after all, he had heard everything you had said. Sherlock is sick. Sick in the head. He enjoys watching people get hurt. He’s not a detective. He’s a fraud. He plans all the crimes he solves, and makes other people do the dirty work. Then, he bathes in the fake glory he receives.’

I didn’t know what to say. Sherlock did this. Sherlock? But…

It was as if the air had been knocked out of me. I admired Sherlock. Was it all untrue? Had he deceived me? Deceived all of us? Was John in on this?

‘But, how do you know all this?’ I finally muttered.

‘Look Y/N, I know it’s hard to believe, but it is the truth.’

‘But why do you care? You just met me days ago. You shouldn’t care about me. And certainly not this much.’

He looked me in the eyes. ‘Y/N I may only have met you days ago, but I have had my eyes on you for a while. I just didn’t have the courage to step up and ask you out. But oh, am I glad that I did. You are the most wonderful girl I have ever met. At first, before I spoke to you, I was just mesmerized by your beauty, and the way you’d get so focused when you were reading. But then I spoke to you. With you. And oh my. I fell straight away. Your eyes when you talk about something you like, they just light up. And your voice, I could listen to it forever. And you’re so kind. And smart!’ he sighed. ‘I like you a lot Y/N, and I just want you to be safe. That’s why I brought you here. And you cannot leave till I deem it safe.’

‘But Sherlock doesn’t care about me, why can’t I just move somewhere else and stay out of his way?’

‘BECAUSE HE’S SICK!’ James shouted. I twitched at his voice, which made him look at me apologetically. ‘I’m sorry my love.’

While I admired James’s work for me, I found it quite weird. I spend the rest of the day alone in the room. And the next. And the next. At some point, I lost count. Not because it was that long, but because I didn’t really care. I spend most of my time reading. James brought me books, which was really nice of him. He still hadn’t found my phone though. From time to time he’d come in and spend time with me. Sometimes just to sit next to me and look at me. He was really nice. And at every mealtime, he’d come with something homemade. And it was amazing. In the beginning, I was frightened by being there. I thought that James must’ve lied. But I started to believe him more and more. And like him more and more. He made me laugh, despite me being trapped here. Each evening he’d change my bandages but tell me to look away. I did so.

But everything soon became boring. I loved being with James, but I was stuck in this cement building. Actually, just in my room. James believed it would make me less sad that way. I was allowed a daily walk through the building though, to stretch my legs. The building was huge. I never found the way out, it just continued for what seemed like forever. Of course, it had some kind of front door leading outside, I knew it did, but I never could find it.

#bbc sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock bbc #sherlock fanfic #sherlock holmes #sherlock x y/n #sherlock fandom #sherlockbbc #sherlock rp #sherlockian

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littleforksuperiority · 2 years

Text

Masterpost <3

I only have one story, but here to make it more accessible!

Unbelievable (Sherlock x fem reader | slow burn)

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

#Sherlock Holmes Fanfic

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littleforksuperiority · 2 years

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Unbelievable Chapter VII (Sherlock x Reader fanfic)

Links to Chapter I and Chapter VIII

TRIGGER WARNING - VIOLENCE AND GUNS If you want to skip this part, skip to chapter X <3

1387 words

Chapter VII

As I walked out of the building, I realised I had forgotten to take my work keys with me, so I had to go and get them. I quickly walked into my flat and got my keys, but when I walked out again three men stood at my door. One of them pointed his gun at me, while another kicked me in my knees, causing me to fall over. The men then dragged me upstairs, while the third still was aiming at me. I punched and kicked and scraped the walls, but they were too strong. ‘SHERLOCK!!’ I screamed, but there was no answer. ‘Stay quiet darling,’ the man with the gun said, but I then shouted ‘MRS HUDSON?’ again no answer. Despite my struggles, they managed to drag me up the stairs and sat me down on a chair. I screamed as they tied my hands and feet to the chair. Then I heard muffled sobs to my left. Mrs Hudson sat tied to another chair with a sock looking object strapped in her hair

‘You might as well be quiet darling; we wouldn’t want this to hurt.’ The gunman said with a grin. Fuck. I tried to get out of the ropes, but they were tied so tight, and so thin, that I could feel them cut into my hands. Apparently, the men saw my grimacing expression because they all started chuckling. My eyes started watering from the pain.

‘Okay, pretty lady. You know what we want.’ The gunman said.

I breathed in sharply. ‘I really don’t!’

The man punched me with his fist. His ring hit me right above the cheekbone. A drop of blood landed on my skirt as I dropped my head in response to the pain.

‘Irene Adler. We want her phone.’ He put my head in his hand, lifting it took look at him. I retracted. ‘You’re such a gorgeous girl. I really wouldn’t like to ruin it.’ He bowed down and kissed my cheekbone wound. Disgusting. ‘We know that Sherlock has the phone. And you, if anyone, would know where it is.’ He dropped my head and walked a step back.

‘Why would I know, sir?’ God, my head was throbbing from the punch.

‘Stop it with the games Miss L/N,’ he shouted as he kicked my chair, almost making me fall over.

‘It’s not a game. I don’t know anything about Irene’s phone. And why would I? Sherlock does not care for me. I am just his neighbour. The person he cares the most about is John, and he would never even dare admit that!’

‘STOP LYING!’ He kicked my chair again, making me fall to the ground. My head hit the floor like a stone. For a moment my vision went black. As I regained my vision, coloured dots showed the man’s face. His face was no more than five centimetres from mine. ‘Don’t you get it? I will make you go through hell if you don’t tell me right now!’ he shouted. ‘And don’t give me that “I am just his neighbour”; we know that you two are dating.’ Then he put his foot on my neck and pressed it down. My vision went blurry yet again as I tried to breathe. My head felt like it was exploding. Then he stepped away. ‘Get it now?’

‘I know nothing of Sherlock, you bastards. He doesn’t give a shit about me. You can torture me all you want; he’s not going to care. I only met him days ago. Yes, I may be fond of him, but that feeling is not returned, and never will be. And yes, that hurts, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care. Never will. When you like Sherlock it’s like liking the starts. You don’t expect them to like you back! And for God’s sake, I am not his girlfriend you idiots!’

The man kicked my head, and then stood on my throat again. Just as I felt like I was going to die, the sound of an ‘ahem’ appeared. The man stepped away from me, and there was Sherlock. How long had he been there? Please say he had just arrived. If not, then he was a dick. A massive one.

‘Please step away from my girlfriend.’ Oh, that dick. I was going to punch him so hard. ‘And don’t snivel Mrs Hudson. It’ll do nothing to impede the flight of a bullet. What a tender world that would be.’

I stared at Shercock, why couldn’t he just help her instead of being a cock.

‘I believe you have something that we want, Mr Holmes,’ said the man.

‘Then why don’t you ask for it?’ He finally walked over to Mrs Hudson, although I couldn’t really see what he was doing as I was facing the other way.

‘I’ve been asking this one. She doesn’t seem to know anything.’ Said the man. ‘But you know what I’m asking for, don’t you, Mr Holmes?’

‘I believe I do.’

‘Oh, please, Sherlock.’ I heard Mrs Hudson say.

‘First, get rid of your boys.’

‘Why?’

‘I dislike being outnumbered. It makes for too much stupid in the room.’

I chuckled, which made for an awkward silence in the room. Then the man said, ‘you two, go to the car.’

Sherlock continued: ‘Then get into the car and drive away. Don’t try to trick me. You know who I am. It doesn’t work. Next, you can stop pointing that gun at me.’

‘So you can point a gun at me?’

‘I’m unarmed,’ he said, putting his arms out ready for a pat-down.

‘Mind if I check?’

‘Oh, I insist.’

The man walked over to him and patted him down. Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically, as he began patting his back. Then, quickly, he pulled out a sanitiser spray can, twisted around, and sprayed the man directly in the face. He screamed loudly, blinking more than I thought humanely possible. Then Sherlock headbutted him in the face, making him fall unconsciously back onto the coffee table. Sherlock flipped the can in the air triumphally. ‘Moron.’

‘Yeah, you are. Go untie Mrs Hudson,’ I cried, making Sherlock sigh and run to untie her.

‘Oh, thank you,’ she said tearfully

‘You’re all right now, you’re all right.’ He responded. Then he came rushing over to me and raised my chair so that I finally sat upright again. My head was spinning violently, and I almost fell over again, but he caught me.

‘Jesus Christ Y/N, what did they do to you!?’

‘You probably saw it all, didn’t you, darling?’

He chuckled. ‘The stars?’

‘Oh, shut up you dick!’ I couldn’t help but smile. Sherlock untied my feet and hands. Seeing the wounds from the ropes, he took my hands into his.

‘Sherlock you’re getting blood on your hands.’

‘Y/N for God’s sake.’ He turned my hands multiple times to observe the damage.

‘Sherlock, it’s fine. I’m fine.’ I looked him in his eyes.

‘You’re not fine, you’re bleeding from at least three places.’ His eyes scanned me quickly. I stood up wanting to go over to Mrs Hudson, but as I walked over there, I noticed how badly I was hurt.

‘Do you have any bandages?’ I asked Sherlock, and he went to get some. Soon he was back, and I patched myself up. When I was done, I walked over to Mrs Hudson and helped her onto the sofa with a blanket over her. Sherlock looked at me weirdly.

‘What? She’s in shock. They do this in movies.’ And then I bandaged her up.

‘Y/N, you’re even more hurt than her, you should rest.’

‘Yeah, right.’ I walked over to the man and dragged him over to my chair. The pain in my wrists overwhelmed me, and for a split second everything went dark again, and I was falling. Then, I regained my composure and lifted him up into the chair. I then tied him to the chair and strapped the sock thingy into his mouth. Then I took his gun and pointed it at him. ‘Call the cops Sherlock.’ My hand was shaking. Shit, these wounds were killing me.

‘Y/N…’ He said and put his hand on my wrist to bring the gun down. I inhaled sharply and then fell over. Everything went dark.

#bbc sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock bbc #sherlock fanfic #sherlock holmes #sherlock x y/n #sherlock fandom #sherlock has feelings #sherlock rp #sherlockian

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littleforksuperiority · 2 years

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Unbelievable Chapter VI (Sherlock x Reader fanfic)

Links to Chapter I and Chapter VII

3248 words

Chapter VI

We made a quick stop at the police station to inform Lestrade of the situation. While John went in to handle everything, I stayed with Sherlock. No more than five minutes after John had left, Lestrade came running out amused over Sherlock’s condition.

‘You two are getting chummy, huh?’ he said, laughing over how Sherlock was practically laying on top of me. I rolled my eyes as he took some pictures. He promised that they would look for Irene, and we drove home.

Arriving at 221b I helped carry Sherlock to his room. He had finally fallen asleep and was no longer tensing his muscles.

‘Why don’t you go home and relax,’ John asked.

‘Thank you, but honestly, I’d rather just stay here and watch over Sherlock.’

‘But I assure you that he isn’t going anywhere the next couple of hours.’

‘I know but… I’d just like to be here, and make sure that he continues to feel alright.’

John sighed ‘alright then,’ and pulled one of the chairs from the dining table to the room. I sat down and continued to for the next few hours. When the clock hit 8 John asked if I could go get us some takeout. I realised that he may want to be with Sherlock when he woke up and decided to do so. I was lazy, so I just got us pizza from the pizzeria down the street. I ordered two ordinary Pizza’s. When I came back to the flat, I could hear Sherlock yelling, so I hurried into the room.

‘Where is she!?’ he asked.

‘What?’ asked John

‘Where is she?’

‘Oh, Irene Adler? She’s gone, no one can find her.’

Sherlock facepalmed. ‘Y/N’ he said. I came into the room a few seconds later. ‘You’re awake!’ I said, hugging Sherlock. He tensed up for a moment in surprise but then relaxed. As I moved away Sherlock stumbled. ‘Sherlock! Are you okay?!’

‘Okay? I am always okay.’ He mumbled.

‘Go back to sleep. I’m sure you’re hungry, but just sleep some more, and you’ll feel better again.’

‘I’m fine!’ Sherlock mumbled.

‘Definitely. Tiptop condition. But please get some rest.’ Sherlock crawled back into bed, and I laid the duvet over him. John and I then walked out of the room. Walking out I noticed that Sherlock’s coat was hanging on his door. Didn’t Irene take it?

‘Sorry if I ruined your romantic moment there,’ I said to John. He sighed. ‘There’s more romance between you two than me and him,’ he responded. I froze. ‘Yeah right!’ I said and sat down to eat the pizza. Doing dinner John and I talked about work and such. He then asked about my education and I about his time in the army. It was nice to have a conversation with him. And it didn’t get boring. You see, I am usually not really one for small talk. As I looked at the clock, I realised that we had talked for two hours. It was 10:23, so I decided to head straight for bed. I was still worried for Sherlock. I had really grown to care for him. I sighed. John was going to look out for him.

---

As the alarm clock rang, I quickly got dressed and hurried upstairs to flat b. John opened the door as I knocked. ‘Sherlock’s still out cold,’ he said.

‘But he’s alright?’

‘Looks like it.’

I smiled. Thank God. Then I heard something from Sherlock’s room. I went over to the door and knocked. No response. I knocked again. Still no response. Worried if he’d had fallen off the bed, or some other way injured himself, I went in. Sherlock was still in his bed, sleeping. He looked so peaceful. I smiled. Then another sound came from the cloak on the door. It was… a woman… moaning? Wtf. I went over to the cloak and reached into the pocket. In there was nothing but a phone. There were three unopened messages. They read as follows:

‘Till the next time, Mr Holmes’

‘Good morning, Mr Holmes’

‘Feeling better?’

Were these… texts from Irene? How did she get his phone number? Oh. She came over to return the coat. But when? The jacket had appeared yesterday, and I’d been there the entire time, except for when I went down for pizzas. Had she visited while I was away? But John had been there! I sighed over the fact that I couldn’t figure it out.

‘Y/N?’ a voice said behind me. I put the phone back and turned around, to see Sherlock awake, but still lying in bed. He had a dazed look over him.

‘Good morning, Sherlock. How are you feeling?’

‘Fine. I’m fine,’ he replied. Oh, Sherlock. When would he learn that it was alright to admit when you are feeling down? John came into the room, as he had heard the sound of Sherlock’s voice.

‘Did you wake him up?’ he whispered with a disappointed look on his face.

‘I didn’t mean to, I only sighed!’ I said defensively.

‘No, she didn’t wake me up, John.’ Sherlock replied and tried to stand up. I rushed over to him as he fell.

‘Oh Sherlock, you klutz.’ I helped him back into bed and ruffled his hair. He looked at me with the same dazed look as before. It was a rare sight, seeing Sherlock all confused. ‘Now go back to sleep. No, you mustn’t work on another case today.’ Sherlock grunted, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. Then I wished the boys goodbye and hurried to the tube. I was late. Again.

As I hurriedly arrived at James’s, I apologised to a waiting customer for the waiting time and thanked her for staying. I quickly unlocked the door and got on with work. Of course, getting on with work was not exactly difficult. As soon as I had served the lady, I arranged some new books that had arrived in the night. All this was soon done, so I returned to my book from ereyesterday near the end of my shift, I heard the bell chime and looked up to see a familiar face. James. Funny how he was called James and the bookshop I work in was called James’s. For a moment the thought of the name James being a fake one. Nah. That stuff only happens in movies. This is not a movie. Not even a proper book.

‘Am I interrupting?’ James asked with a small grin. Oh right. I suppose time doesn’t stop when you think like it does in movies. I looked down apologetically.

‘I came by here yesterday, but you weren’t here. I thought maybe I’d done something wrong, and you were avoiding me.’

‘Oh no, no! It just turns out that drinking on a work night is stupid. Also, I cannot hold my liquor.’ James chuckled.

‘I see. So, I did nothing wrong?’

‘Of course not, James. I’m sorry for ruining our date night.’ He chuckled

‘You didn’t ruin anything Y/N. I’m sorry for not noticing how much you drank.’

‘Oh James, that was my fault, not yours. Would you come over to my place after my shift? We can have a new date night. One without booze.’

He pretended to think for a little while and then said, ‘sure.’ I smiled.

James stayed at the book shop for the rest of my shift, and when I was done, he got a cab for us. He opened the door for me both on the way home, and when we arrived. He asked me about my day. Of course, I couldn’t be completely honest about yesterday, but I did tell him that I was hanging out with my neighbours. When I mentioned that they were men, a jealous face came over him. I giggled and I became flushed.

When we arrived at Baker Street, luckily Sherlock wasn’t there as usually was. I introduced my flat to James, and he put on a rom-com movie while I made some snacks. Popcorn and fresh-cut fruit. As we watched the movie, we couldn’t help but talk.

‘So, you really like kids? Do you plan on having children?’ I asked. He looked shocked. ‘Oh, shit, that’s probably not something you ask on second dates, right?’ I said with a grimace. I’d really f-ed this up.

‘No, it’s fine. Yes. I do plan on having kids, although I do want to settle down first,’ he said, sternly, which made me nervous. ‘Right, yes…’ I stuttered. He looked at me. Stared in fact. And then he burst out laughing, which made my face incredibly hot, and most definitely red. That made him laugh harder.

‘I’m just kidding Y/N,’ he smiled, which made me even more embarrassed, so he lightly petted my hair, moving slightly closer to me to do so. His dark eyes showed nothing but pure adoration at that moment.

As time went on, we stopped talking to pay attention to the movie. It was one of those cliché ones, which I normally do not watch, but being with James and watching this movie just felt right. The main character was called Josephine and she was not interested in falling in love. Then, she moved into a new flat. Her neighbour was a guy called Ronald. He was a real douchebag. But, as the movie went on, they became closer, and she saw a whole new side of him. A protective and caring side. She slowly but surely fell in love with him. I couldn’t help but think of Sherlock and me. Not because I was in love or anything, but I did move into a flat, and my neighbour did seem like a douche sometimes, although he wasn’t.

At some point, I think about halfway through the two-hour movie, I began to feel sleepy, and laid my head on James’s shoulder. I suppose it could be seen as an intimate thing to do, but I was just tired, and I, therefore, did not notice that. I tried my best to stay awake, but my eyelids quickly became heavy. Just a little while longer, I thought. Then, I woke up by James moving a little. I think he checked if I was awake. I stayed like this with closed eyes, as I realised how weird it was for me to just lean in on him. Then, I felt him move again, softly touching my head. He kissed my head. I sat up, and he looked at me surprised.

‘I- I’m sorry!’ he stuttered. I just smiled and said, ‘It’s alright James. I was just surprised, that’s all.’ He smiled back. His smile gave me butterflies in my stomach, so I embarrassedly looked away so that he wouldn’t see my flushed cheeks. He chuckled and took my head in his hand. Then he turned it to look at him. I tried to find something to look at, other than his dark beautiful eyes, but failed. Then he leaned in and closed them. As I felt his soft lips on mine, the butterflies exploded. A firework had gone off in both my mind and stomach. It was amazing. I kissed him back and closed my eyes. Did I actually like this guy?

Then the door to my flat opened. ‘Y/N, do you-‘ I head Sherlock say. Then he saw the two of us and stopped. ‘Oh.’ I leaned away from James.

‘Sherlock, what are you doing here?’ I said as I gave an apologetic look to the man who I had just kissed. James didn’t turn around but continued to look at me, confused.

‘I just wanted to ask you something, but I see you’re busy,’ he started to walk out. I quickly walked after him and closed the door.

‘Couldn’t you have knocked?’ I asked softly. Sherlock looked down at the floor.

‘I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Didn’t look that way.’

I punched him lightly in the shoulder. ‘What did you want to ask?’ I asked.

‘I wanted to introduce you to a previous case. Or rather, the guy behind it, because he’s still out there, and I want you to tell me if you see him.’

‘Does this have anything to do with Irene Adler?’

‘No.’

‘Then can it please wait till tomorrow morning? I looked at him. He sighed.

‘Alright.’ I then went back into my flat. James had moved over to the TV, fidgeting with his hands. ‘Who was that he asked.

‘Just my neighbour, Sherlock.’

James looked me in the eyes and said, ‘neighbour? Nothing more?’

I chuckled no in response. Of course not. He was Sherlock.

‘The way he said ‘oh’ when he saw us. It was…’

I looked at him. At James. Was he serious? ‘James, I promise you there’s nothing between him and me. I’m not even sure if he’s even able to feel anything like that. Romantic probably isn’t even a word in his vocabulary.’

He looked me in the eyes with a light smile. ‘Then… I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I asked you to mine?’

My eyes dilated. Did he seriously just ask that? This was only our second date; we barely even knew each other. He kept eye contact. My face had turned red again. Shit, shit, shit. He chuckled again. I didn’t know what to say, so I mumbled ‘okay’ while looking down at the ground.

‘I didn’t quite hear that.’

‘No, I wouldn’t mind, actually. So, yes.’

He grabbed my face and moved it forwards, pulling me into a kiss. Just like before it was magical, but I wasn’t so sure that I was girlfriend material, so to say. He looked at me understandingly.

‘It’s fine Y/N. You’re amazing.’ He said smiling. And I smiled back as he kissed me. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said about Sherlock. Or implied at least. Of course, I knew it wasn’t true but…

Then James got a call. Apparently, he had to leave. He quickly muttered sorry and hurried out of the flat. I should’ve felt disappointed. I mean after all; he did just ask me to be his girlfriend. But I didn’t. I didn’t feel anything.

I went to bed after that.

---

As I woke up the following morning, I heard the same violin play again. After I had gotten dressed and done my makeup, I went up to 221b. Both to find out who was playing, and to talk to Sherlock about this guy that he spoke about yesterday when I was with… James.

Walking into the flat, I could see that some things had been moved slightly, but that does happen when two people live in a flat, so I didn’t take any big notice of it. Walking further in, I saw Sherlock, who was playing the violin. It was a melodramatic tune. When he heard me come nearer, he stopped to look at me.

‘It sounds beautiful Sherlock. I’ve never heard the melody before, is it your own.’

‘Mhm. I’m composing. Helps me think.’

‘What are you thinking about?’ I said, walking closer.

Sherlock quickly put down the violin. ‘The counter on John’s blog is still stuck at one thousand eight hundred and ninety-five.’

I went over to look at it. ‘Is it not just faulty?’

‘Faulty – or he’s been hacked and it’s a message.’ He said and quickly pulled a phone out of his pocket. He then typed something in and sighed.

‘Hacked?’ I asked befuddled.

‘No. Just faulty.’ He said and picked up the violin again.

‘Actually Sherlock, I came to ask you about the guy you talked about yesterday.’

‘Oh, right. When you were with your “not-boyfriend”.’

I sighed. Should I tell him? ‘Actually Sherlock…’ he looked at me with a look in his eyes that I couldn’t distinguish. ‘Never mind. Yes, him.’

‘The guy I talked about is called Jim Moriarty. He likes to play games with me. Last time was the first time I ever heard about him. He held innocent people hostage and made me solve cases to save them.’

‘That’s brutal!’ I said, shocked.

‘Yes.’ He said and looked me in the eyes, ‘I don’t want you to get hurt, so if you ever hear anything about anyone called Moriarty or Jim, then tell me. He has dark brown eyes and hair.’

I nodded. ‘Okay. Thank you, Sherlock.’ Then I walked out of the flat.

‘By the way,’ Sherlock shouted, ‘Irene is dead.’ I turned around to look at him. Really? Then I walked out to get to work.

As I walked out of the building, a woman said, ‘Y/N?’

‘Yes, hello?’ Then a black car came rolling next to me.

‘Please get in, miss,’ the woman said.

‘Is this Mycroft?’ I asked, but the woman just sniggered and led me into the car. Soon, we arrived at an abandoned building. Through later research, I found out that it was the Battersea Power Station, but that’s unimportant.

‘Couldn’t we just have met at a café like last time?’ I asked. The woman didn’t speak, but just lead me through the building, typing on her phone. Then she stopped and said, ‘through there.’ I hesitated to walk away from her, as I found it weird that she didn’t want to come with me, but then walked in there anyways. Behind me, I could hear her footsteps walking away. Soon, I arrived at a large room. ‘Mycroft?’ I shouted. Then a woman walked in. Her high heels clicked on the floor, her hair put up, and overall, she looked as beautiful as ever.

‘Hello, miss L/N.’ She said as she stopped a couple of feet away from me.

‘I thought you were dead?’ I said.

‘DNA tests are only as good as the records you keep.’ She answered, smiling.

‘And you knew what the record keeper liked. Right?’

‘I needed to disappear.’

I tilted my head. ‘Then why show yourself to me?’

She sighed in response. ‘Look, I made a mistake. I sent something to Sherlock for safe-keeping and now I need it back, so I need your help.’

‘Why don’t you do it yourself?’

‘I can’t. It’s for his own safety.’

‘Fine. Then I’ll tell him.’ I started to walk away. I had work you know.

‘What would I say? To tell him I was alive.’ Irene quickly said.

‘I don’t know. What do you normally say? You’ve texted him, haven’t you?’

She took out her phone and said, ‘just the usual stuff.’

‘What’s the usual stuff?’

She looked down and started to read aloud; ‘“Good morning”; “I like your funny hat”; “I’m sad tonight. Let’s have dinner” ... “You looked sexy on ‘Crimewatch.’ Let’s have dinner”; “I’m not hungry, let’s have dinner”.’

Woah. Calm yourself girl.

‘You flirted with Sherlock Holmes?!’

‘At him. He never replies.’

‘Sherlock always replies – to everything. He’s Mr Punchline. He will outlive God trying to have the last word.’

‘Does that make me special?’

‘Probably. In his defence, you are very pretty.’

‘Are you jealous?’

‘We’re not a couple.’

‘Yes, you are. There ...’ She held up her phone to show me what she had typed. ‘I’m not dead. Let’s have dinner.’ It said. She then pressed send. An orgasmic sound came not far away. I turned around. Sherlock? Had he followed me? I started walking towards the sound but stopped as it was too dark to see anything.

‘I don’t think so. Do you?’ Irene asked. I didn’t know.

#bbc sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock bbc #sherlock fanfic #sherlock holmes #sherlock x y/n #sherlock fandom #sherlock rp #sherlockian #sherlockbbc #sherlock has feelings #sherlock holmes x reader

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littleforksuperiority · 2 years

Text

Unbelievable Chapter V (Sherlock x Reader fanfic)

Links to Chapter I and Chapter VI

| trigger warning guns |

3633 words

Chapter V

We were followed out to a taxi, and soon were on our way back home.

‘Okay, the smoking. How did you know?’ John asked.

Sherlock smiled and shook his head. Then he answered, ‘The evidence was right under your nose, John. As ever, you see but do not observe.’

‘Observe what?’ he asked. I nudged Sherlock as I replied, ‘the ashtray John! The damn ashtray.’ And just then sherlock pulled out an ashtray from his coat. ‘Y/N is as always, right.’ John and I both laughed, and Sherlock tossed the ashtray into the air, caught it, and tucked it back into his coat, chuckling.

‘So, what’s the plan?’ I asked.

‘You, young lady, are going home.’ John said.

‘Whaaat I want to go!’

Sherlock looked at John, confused.

‘Are you serious Sherlock? She’s obviously super hangover. This may get dangerous, and she can’t even stand up without falling over.’

‘You fell over?’

‘No, I didn’t. If I did, surely you would have seen it, no?

‘Hm.’

‘Please Sherlock. I really don’t feel like being home alone right now.’ I pouted.

‘You’re acting like a child Y/N,’ John said.

‘Just living up to your expectations about me. Please, let me come with you.’

‘Okay.’ Sherlock said.

‘What!? Sherlock, no. She needs to get home and sleep.’ John protested.

‘John. Y/N is not a child, but a grown woman, who can make her own choices. Besides, she may be helpful.’

‘Thank you, Sherlock!’ I said and hugged him as well as I could while still keeping my seatbelt on. He smiled.

John sighed. ‘So, what’s the plan then?’

‘We know her address,’ Sherlock replied.

‘What, we just ring her doorbell?’

‘Exactly. Just here, please.’ He says to the driver. As we walked out of the car, or stumbled in my case, John asked, ‘are we here?’

Sherlock replied, ‘just two streets away, but this’ll do. Punch me in the face.’ He pointed at his left cheek.

‘Punch you?’

‘Yes. Punch me, in the face.’ He gestured to his left cheek again. ‘Didn’t you hear me?’

‘I always hear “punch me in the face” when you’re speaking, but it’s usually sub-text.’

I giggled. ’Oh, for God’s sakes.’ Sherlock said. ‘And don’t you get cocky kid, I can still send you home.’ That shut me up. Sherlock then proceeded to punch John in the face. As John grunted in pain and reeled from the blow, Sherlock shook out his hand and then blew out a breath, bracing himself. John straightened up and immediately punched Sherlock. However, despite his anger – and his left-handedness – he did so right-handed and therefore struck him on the left cheek just as Sherlock had indicated.

‘Ow!’ John said, as Sherlock fell to the ground. He looked at his hand, and painfully flexed his hand to examine his knuckles. Sherlock stood up and held his fingers to the newly formed cut on his cheek.

‘Thank you. That was – that was ...’ Before Sherlock could finish his sentence, John punched him again, but this time in the stomach, sending Sherlock crashing to the ground yet again.

‘Wow, you’re quite strong John!’ I spoke. ‘But what is the point of this?’

‘Of course, I’m strong Y/N. I was a soldier. I killed people.’

‘You were a doctor,’ Sherlock butted in.

‘I had bad days!’ John shouted. Istg these boys.

‘Now to the point. I have been attacked in the streets and I come to Miss Adler’s home looking for help. Is that clear?’

‘… Sherlock. Irene Adler definitely knows who you are. I mean everyone does. And she’s been in multiple cases, it would be weird if she hadn’t done just a tad of research.’ I said.

‘Nonsense, it will be fine. Besides, it is only a plan to get inside.’

‘Why not just tell the truth?’ I asked, but Sherlock was already walking away.

As we came to the house, sherlock went over to the intercom and buzzed it. Soon, we heard a young woman say ‘hello?’

Sherlock stared into the camera wide-eyed and flustered. He spoke in an anxious, tearful, posh voice and kept looking around behind him as he spoke. ‘Ooh! Um, sorry to disturb you. Um, I’ve just been attacked, um, and, um, I think they ... they took my wallet and, um, and my phone. Umm, please could you help me?’

The woman on the intercom responded, ‘I can phone the police if you want.’

‘Thank you, thank you! Could you, please?’ He took a few steps backwards. ‘Oh, would you ... would you mind if I just waited here, just until they come? Thank you. Thank you so much.’ He held his handkerchief up to his cheek and tried his best to look hurt. It was pathetic. The intercom lady buzzed him in, and John and I followed.

‘Thank you.’ Sherlock said, still in character. He quickly looked around to room and said ‘ooh!’.

‘I – I saw it all happen. It’s okay, I’m a doctor,’ John said as he closed the door. The room was very elegant, with a big off-white chandelier hanging from the roof. Walking a bit more in, I could see a brown staircase leading up to another floor.

‘And what about you?’ the intercom lady asked looking at me.

‘I... uh… I just…’ Shit. What was I supposed to say!?

‘She’s my girlfriend,’ Sherlock interrupted. What. I glared at him, and he winked. Was this revenge from the party? Such a child.

‘Yes, I am.’ I said with a smile.

‘But you didn’t get attacked?’ the intercom lady asked. Oh. Right.

‘I am very strong. Besides, woman to woman, I’m sure you understand what I mean when I say that I know... other ways to persuade men.’ I smiled. Gross. She smiled back.

John stood silently for a second, and then said, ‘now, have you got a first aid kit?’

‘In the kitchen. Come with me. You two, please go in here,’ she said, gesturing to the front room.

‘Oh! Thank you!’ Sherlock said, still in his posh tone. It was hilarious. As Sherlock and I walked into the front room, the two others walked away to the kitchen.

The front room was, if possible, even more elegant than the other. Everything was white, or at least near white, and there were long drapes in front of the windows. We sat down on the nearest sofa, which was surprisingly soft, and yet it kept its form when we sat. I glared at sherlock, who in return grinned. Not long after we had sat down, we could hear footsteps. Sherlock sat up properly and put his handkerchief up to his cheek.

The apparent owner of the footsteps said, ‘hello. Sorry to hear that you’ve been hurt. I don’t think Kate caught your name.’

‘I’m so sorry. I’m ...’ Sherlock said with his posh voice looking at his laps. I nudged him in the ribs, and he finally looked up. In had walked a completely naked woman, or rather, The Woman. Sherlock’s voice failed him, as the shock took over his brain.

‘Oh, it’s always hard to remember an alias when you’ve had a fright, isn’t it? Mr Sherlock Holmes. And his “girlfriend”. Close your mouth darling,’ she said, as she walked toward me. I realised that I was open-mouthed staring at her. I quickly closed it and cleared my throat.

‘Miss Adler, I presume,’ Sherlock said. John came in with a bowl, his eyes fixed on it, so none of its content would be spilled. When he looked up, he stopped and looked awkwardly from Irene to the bowl to Irene again.

‘I’ve missed something, haven’t I?’ He said.

‘Please, sit down. Oh, if you’d like some tea, I can call the maid.’ Irene answered as she walked away from Sherlock and sat in a chair. Sherlock was fidgeting nervously with the sofa. I put my hand on his hand to relax him. Don’t get me wrong, fidgeting is fine, but I expected that he wanted to look more… formal. He looked at me. I gave him a soft smile.

‘I had some at the Palace,’ he said and squeezed my hand a little.

‘I know.’

‘Clearly,’ I said.

‘I had a tea, too, at the Palace, if anyone’s interested.’ John said.

Sherlock and Irene looked at each other for a while. Then he looked at John. And then me. He looked nervous. I squeezed his hand.

‘D’you know the big problem with a disguise, Mr Holmes?’ Irene broke the silence. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her. ‘However hard you try, it’s always a self-portrait.’

‘You think I’m a guy with a bleeding face?’ He asked.

‘No, I think you’re damaged, delusional and believe in a higher power. In your case, it’s yourself.’ She said leaning forward. ‘Oh, and somebody loves you. I mean other than the obvious young lady sitting next to you.’ I blushed and looked away. I quickly let go of Sherlock’s hand. Irene smiled. ‘If I had to punch that face, I’d avoid your nose and teeth too.’ Now she looked at John, who forced a quick laugh and said ‘now, could you please put something on?’

‘Why? Are you feeling exposed?’

Sherlock stood up and took his coat. ‘I don’t think John knows where to look.’

‘No, I think he knows exactly where. Not sure about you.’ She said, taking his coat.

‘If I wanted to look at naked women, I’d borrow John’s laptop.’

I giggled, and held my hand in front of my mouth, whoops.

‘You do borrow my laptop.’ John said.

‘I confiscate it.’

Irene put on Sherlock’s coat and wrapped it around her. ‘Well, never mind. We’ve got better things to talk about. Now tell me – I need to know. How was it done?

‘What?’ Sherlock asked.

‘The hiker with the bashed-in head. How was he killed?’

What was she doing?

‘That’s not why we’re here.’

‘No, no, no, you’re here for the photographs but that’s never gonna happen, and since we’re here just chatting anyway ...’

‘That story’s not been on the news yet. How do you know about it?’ Asked John.

‘I know one of the policemen. Well, I know what he likes.’

‘Oh. And you like policemen?’

‘I like detective stories – and detectives. Brainy’s the new sexy.’

‘Positionofthecar-‘ Sherlock mumbled.

‘I’m sorry?’ I said.

‘Er, the position of the car relative to the hiker at the time of the backfire. That and the fact that the death blow was to the back of the head. That’s all you need to know.’

‘Okay, tell me: how was he murdered?’ Irene asked.

‘He wasn’t,’ I said. Sherlock looked at me.

‘You don’t think it was murder?’ Irene asked, now staring at me from head to toe.

‘I know it wasn’t.’

‘How?’

‘The same way that I know the victim was an excellent sportsman recently returned from foreign travel and that the photographs I’m looking for are in this room.’ Sherlock pitched in.

‘Okay, but how?’

‘So, they are in this room. Thank you. John, man the door. Let no one in.’ The boys exchanged looks, and john went out the door, closing it.

‘Two men alone in the countryside several yards apart, and one car.’ Sherlock continued.

‘Oh. I – I thought you were looking for the photos now.’

‘No, no. Looking takes ages. I’m just going to find them but you’re moderately clever and we’ve got a moment, so let’s pass the time. Two men, a car, and nobody else.’

He squatted down as if he was at the crime scene. ‘The driver’s trying to fix his engine. Getting nowhere. And the hiker’s taking a moment, looking at the sky. Any moment now, something’s going to happen. What?’

‘The hiker’s going to die.’ Irene said.

‘No, that’s the result. What’s going to happen?’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Oh, well, try to.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you cater to the whims of the pathetic and take your clothes off to make an impression. Stop boring me and think. It’s the new sexy.’

‘The car’s going to backfire.’

‘There’s going to be a loud noise.’

‘So, what?’

‘Oh, noises are important. Noises can tell you everything. For instance ...’ Sherlock paused dramatically, and just a moment later the smoke alarm went off. Irene immediately looked over at a big mirror over the fireplace. Sherlock and I followed her gaze. I smiled. He was brilliant.

‘Thank you. On hearing a smoke alarm, a mother would look toward her child. Amazing how fire exposes our priorities.’ He said, as he walked over to the fireplace and ran his fingers underneath the mantelpiece. As he found a switch, he pressed it up, and the mirror started sliding upwards, revealing a grey safe.

‘Really hope you don’t have a baby in here.’

I tried really hard not to laugh, and I like to think that I succeeded.

‘All right, John, you can turn it off now.’

The alarm kept ringing.

‘I said you can turn it off now.’ Sherlock nearly shouted.

‘Give me a minute.’ The voice of John answered, and the beeping stopped.

‘Hmm. Should always use gloves with these things, you know.’ Sherlock continued. ‘Heaviest oil deposit’s always on the first key used – that’s quite clearly the three – but after that, the sequence is almost impossible to read. I’d say from the make that it’s a six-digit code. Can’t be your birthday – no disrespect but clearly you were born in the eighties; the eight is barely used, so ...’

‘I’d tell you the code right now, but you know what? I already have.’ Irene said. I frowned, and so did Sherlock. ‘Think.’

The door burst open with a loud noise, and in came 4 men, one of which had a gun aimed at Sherlock.

‘Hands behind your head.’ He said and looked at Irene and me. ‘On the floor. Keep it still.’

Two men came and walked Irene and I nearer to John, who was being bundled by the fourth guy.

‘Sorry, Sherlock.’ John said.

‘Ms Adler and uh young lady, on the floor.’ He repeated. We got shoved down beside John who had a pistol to the back of his head. As I hit the floor, a cutting pain returned to my head, and I fell forwards. The man behind me quickly catches me and tightened his grip around my hands in the air. Soon I felt the cold of a pistol on the back of my head as well.

‘Don’t you want me on the floor too?’ Sherlock asked, cockily.

‘No, sir, I want you to open the safe.’ He had a strong American accent.

‘American. Interesting. Why would you care?’ Sherlock said glancing at Irene.

‘Sir, the safe, now, please.’

‘I don’t know the code.’

‘We’ve been listening. She said she told you.’

‘Well, if you’d been listening, you’d know she didn’t.’

‘I’m assuming I missed something. From your reputation, I’m assuming you didn’t, Mr Holmes.’

‘For God’s sake. She’s the one who knows the code. Ask her.’

‘Yes, sir. She also knows the code that automatically calls the police and sets off the burglar alarm. I’ve learned not to trust this woman.’

‘Mr Holmes doesn’t ...,’ said Irene.

‘Shut up. One more word out of you – just one – and I will decorate that wall with the insides of your head. That, for me, will not be a hardship.’

I looked at him, shocked. I knew they were violent, but wow. As a sense of fear crept over me, I heard John’s words inside my head: ‘Are you serious, Sherlock? She’s obviously super hangover. This may get dangerous, and she can’t even stand up without falling over.’ Maybe I should have stayed home? No way.

‘Mr Archer. At the count of three, shoot the young lady. She seems the least important to him, we may need Doctor Watson for later’.

I gulped. Was this real? I hoped for the life of me that it was just a nightmare, but the cold of the pistol seemed far too real.

‘I don’t have the code,’ said Sherlock. I felt the pistol being pressed further into my neck and heard the sound of the gun cocking. My eyes went blurry.

‘One.’

‘I don’t know the code.’

‘Two.’ I looked at Sherlock, beggingly. I was not ready to die.

‘She didn’t tell me. I don’t know it!’ he shouted.

‘I’m prepared to believe you any second now.’

‘Three.’ The fear was real. I looked at Sherlock. He looked at me apologetically. That didn’t help. Then something clicked in my head. Not the gun, but a realisation. I looked at Sherlock again to catch his attention. Then I looked at Irene, and back at him. I then looked at his breast, waist, and hips. His eyes widened. God, I hoped I was right.

‘No, stop!’ Sherlock shouted. Please let me be right. Neilson held up his hand to stop Archer. I stared at Sherlock, who slowly turned towards the safe and lowered his hands. As Neilson watched him closely, he slowly reached out a finger towards the keypad and punched 3, 2. He hesitated for a moment, but then punched 2, 4. Pausing again, he punched 3, 4. The safe beeped and unlocked. I closed my eyes in relief and looked at Sherlock. ‘Thank you,’ I mouthed. He smiled.

‘Thank you, Mr Holmes. Open it, please.’ The man said. Sherlock twisted the handle to open it and looked at Irene. Then he shouted ‘Vatican cameos’, which made John duck. Seeing John duck, I did the same. Sherlock pulled the door open and ducked, and immediately a gun was fired from the safe. The gunshot Archer, who was standing directly in front of it, in the chest. Sherlock quickly stood up and grabbed the man who had been threatening us’ s pistol, which he used to slap him across the face. The man dropped down on the floor unconscious. I quickly stoop up and kicked John’s guy right in the nether region, which made him fall to the ground. I then grabbed his gun and stomped him in the face, so he fell unconscious. Irene had in the meantime managed to deal with her guy and was aiming at his face on the ground.

‘D’you mind?’ asked Sherlock, and as Irene replied with ‘not at all’ she smashed the gun across his face. Sherlock quickly took something from the safe. John was standing over Archer’s body.’

‘He’s dead.’ He said.

‘Thank you,’ Irene said, looking at Sherlock. ‘You’re very observant.’

‘Observant?’ John asked

‘I’m flattered.’ Irene continued.

‘Don’t be,’ said Sherlock, walking over to me to see if I was alright. I nodded.

‘Flattered?’ John asked.

‘There’ll be more of them. They’ll be keeping an eye on the building.’ I said.

Sherlock and I hurried out of the room and out to the streets. Soon after John followed.

John said, ‘we should call the police,’ which was followed by three gunshots from Sherlock’s gun. ‘On their way.’

‘For God’s sake!’

‘Oh, shut up. It’s quick.’

We went back to the sitting room. John and I then went to check the rest of the house to see where they came in. I checked the rest of this floor, while John checked the 2nd. Not long after we had gone our separated ways, John shouted ‘Y/N!’ As I came running up the stairs, I quickly spotted the body of the intercom lady laying on the floor. John had put his hand to her mouth to check her breathing and was now checking her pulse. ‘She’s all right. Just out cold.’ I went to the bathroom and saw the open window. They must’ve come on through here. John had seen it as well.

I shouted ‘Sherlock!’ but there was no response, so I quickly ran down the stairs to the sitting room. Sherlock was laying on the ground, strained. Irene was sitting on a chair.

‘OH MY GOD, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?’ I shouted.

‘He’ll sleep for a few hours. Make sure he doesn’t choke on his own vomit. It makes for a very unattractive corpse. All through a kiss from his favourite young lady may help.’

‘Shut up!’ I said, finding the syringe she had used on him. ‘What’s this? What have you given him!?’

‘He’ll be fine. I’ve used it on loads of my friends.’ I stared at her in disbelief. Then I slapped Sherlock in the face to wake him. ‘Sherlock, can you hear me?’

‘You know, I was wrong about him. He did know where to look.’ Said Irene. I went over to the corpse of Archer and took his gun. I then pointed it at Irene. ‘Help him. Help him now.’

‘Ooo scarrryyyy’ Irene said mockingly. ‘Are you sure you’re not in love with him?’

‘Shut up and help him. Surely you have an antidote.’

‘I’ve already told you he’ll be fine.’

I cocked the gun as I heard John run down the stairs- ‘What’s happening?’ He asked. ‘Jesus Y/N, what are you doing!?’ I tilted my head towards Sherlock, and John hurried over to him. ‘Y/N, put down the gun.’ He said. I relentlessly put it down, and Irene hurried away. ‘Goddamn it John!’

‘He’ll be fine.’ Sherlock was trying to get up but couldn’t. It hurt me to see him in pain. John called a cab, and together we carried Sherlock out. On the way home, John asked, ‘did you ever figure out what the code was?’

I looked at John. ‘Her measurements. The code was her measurements. Turns out Sherlock did know where to look. Or at least with a little help.’

John sniggered. The rest of the car ride was quiet. Sherlock was ”sitting” between me and John. It was a tight squeeze on purpose so that he wouldn’t just – slide away.

#sherlock holmes #sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock fanfic #sherlock x y/n #sherlock fandom #sherlock rp #sherlockian #sherlock holmes x reader

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littleforksuperiority · 2 years

Text

Unbelievable Chapter IV (Sherlock x Reader fanfic)

Links to Chapter I and Chapter V

2142 words

Chapter IV

As my alarm rang at seven o’clock, I realised something. I had gotten drunk on a worknight. My head was throbbing, and my eyes were blurry. Shit. Oh wow, I got vulgar. I needed to call in sick. Lie.

So, I called in sick. I was going to pretend to cough to make it believable, but when speaking to my boss, I actually puked. This is why I don’t drink.

I spend most of the morning just laying in bed. I wanted to eat something, but I didn’t want anything I had. Did you know, that when you drink alcohol, your brain releases a chemical called galanin, which increases your craving for fat? So of course, I wanted pizza. But I couldn’t seem to get out of bed.

A couple of hours later, I realised that it was 12 pm, and I was still in bed, wearing smushed makeup, craving pizza. So, I stood up, almost puked, took my makeup off, got properly dressed, and went out to buy pizza. Luckily there was a pizzeria not far from the flat, so I was quickly back home.

As I walked into my flat, Sherlock was sitting on my bed.

‘Sherlock?’

He looked up at me. And that was when I noticed that he was wearing a sheet.

‘What is it with you, and always being by my flat? And what the bloody hell are you wearing?’ My head was throbbing, and I could not for the life of me figure out what was going on.

‘You look well’ he grinned. Sarcasm? I went over to him and nudged him with my shoulder. Then I sat down and looked at his laptop. John’s daft face was covering the entire frame.

‘Hi Y/N!’ He said.

‘Hello, John. Mind telling me what is going on?’ I answered.

‘John is out on this case for me. We agreed that I wouldn’t leave this building for a case ranked less than seven. This is a six.’ Sherlock interrupted.

‘When did we agree on that?’

‘We agreed on it yesterday.’

‘Ye- I wasn’t even home yesterday. I was in Dublin’

Sherlock shrugged. ‘It’s hardly my fault you weren’t listening.’

‘Do you just carry on talking when I’m away?’

‘I don’t know, how often are you away?’

I chuckled. Someone walked up the stairs. Multiple people.

‘Now, go back. Show me the grass,’ Sherlock continued.

The people were now walking in 221b. Furniture was being moved. They were quite noisy.

‘Are you two expecting guests?’ I asked. The boys looked at each other.

‘Probably just a client,’ Sherlock explained.

‘Shouldn’t you go and greet them then?’

‘Nah. I’m busy.’

The people were now heading downstairs. And in three. Two. One. My front door opened, and in walked two men. They were both wearing expensive suits. Sherlock stared at them for a minute. Then one of the men closed the laptop.

‘Go up to his apartment and get him some proper clothes,’ the man said. The other man quickly walked out, and up the stairs to flat b. I looked at Sherlock. He didn’t seem to care that two men just barged in. The man quickly came back and placed a suit in front of Sherlock. Sherlock didn’t budge.

‘Please, Mr Holmes, where you’re going, you’ll want to be dressed.’

‘I know exactly where I’m going,’ he replied. I sure didn’t.

In the end, Sherlock did in fact not get dressed, and he walked out and into the black car, we were transported in, in his sheets. I wasn’t initially allowed to come along, but Sherlock insisted that he wouldn’t come unless I tagged along. In the ca,r I asked; ‘where are we going?’

‘Buckingham Palace.’ My eyes widened.

‘What.’

Sherlock smiled.

‘Are you serious!?’ This was insane. ‘Are you even wearing pants?’

‘Nope.’ … WAS THIS MAN NOT WEARING PANTS!? Ahem. Sherlock, please. Then I burst out laughing. This was surreal.

Soon enough we arrived at the palace and were seated on a sofa. I couldn’t get this stupid smile off my face. We were seriously at the palace. And Sherlock here was butt-ass naked, except for a bedsheet.

John quickly came as well and asked the same question as I had. ‘Are you wearing any pants?’

‘No.’

‘Ok.’

We all burst out into laughter again. Surreal.

‘I am seriously fighting an impulse to steal an ashtray,’ Sherlock said. John shook his head, laughing.

‘Sherlock, seriously what are we doing here?’ I asked. ‘Here to see the Queen?’

‘Apparently, yes,’ Sherlock answered as a man came in. Mycroft.

‘Seriously? Just once, can you two behave like grown-ups?’ Mycroft asked. ‘Oh. Hello Y/N. What a lovely surprise.’

‘How do you two know each other?’ John asked. I looked at Mycroft.

‘We… stumbled into each other recently.’ He answered.

‘I was in the middle of a case, Mycroft.’ Sherlock interrupted.

‘What, the hiker and the backfire? I glanced at the police report, it’s a bit obvious, surely?’

‘Transparent.’ John looked at Sherlock confused.

‘Time to move on then. We are in Buckingham Palace the very heart of the British nation.’ He sighed, ‘Sherlock Holmes, put your trousers on!’

‘What for?’ Sherlock shrugged.

‘Your client.’

‘And my client is?’

A new man walked in. He spoke; ‘entirely anonymous. Hello Mycroft’

‘Harry! Hello,’ Mycroft answered. ‘I must apologise for the state of my little brother.’

‘A full-time occupation, I presume?’ Harry said. I snickered. ‘And this must be John Watson?’

‘Yes, hello.’ They shook hands.

‘And…’ He looked at me.

‘Y/N L/N.’ I put my hand out, and he slowly shook it.

‘Lovely to meet you.’

‘Mycroft, I don’t do anonymous clients.’ Sherlock said, walking out. ‘I’m used to mystery in one end of my cases, both ends is simply too much work. Good morning.’ As he tried to walk away, Mycroft stepped on the sheet. Luckily Sherlock had quick reflexes, if not, he had been standing naked in the Royal Palace, but luckily only his upper body got exposed.

‘Mycroft!’ I exclaimed. This was insane.

‘This is a matter of national importance. Grow up!’

‘Get off my sheet!’

‘Or what?’

‘Or I’ll just walk away.’

‘Boys! Bloody hell, you guys are acting like children!’ I shouted. Sherlock turned around to look at me. Luckily Mycroft let go of the sheet.

‘Says the actual kid,’ he mumbled.

‘I am not a child Sherlock. Now go put on some clothes!’

He sighed, and with the help of Mycroft, he went into another room to put on the clothes that the men had brought with us.

John and I had talked while he was gone. Despite Sherlock’s usual behaviour, even John was surprised at this. As Sherlock came back in, I said, ‘see, that wasn’t that bad, was it?’ He gave me the look that only kids can give. You know that “I hate you, but I don’t really, but you’re dumb” look. He drew a sharp breath.

‘My employer has a problem,’ said harry.

‘A matter has come to light of an extremely delicate and potentially criminal nature, and in this hour of need, dear brother, your name has arisen,’ Mycroft continued.

‘Why? You have a police force of sorts, even a marginally Secret Service. Why come to me?’

‘People do come to you for help, don’t they, Sherlock?’ I asked.

‘Not, to date, anyone with a Navy.’

‘This is a matter of the highest security, and therefore of trust,’ answered Mycroft.

‘You don’t trust your own Secret Service?’ John raised an eyebrow.

‘Naturally not. They all spy on people for money.’

John visibly bit back a smile. I may have chuckled…

‘I do think we have a timetable,’ Harry interrupted.

‘Yes, of course. Um ...’ Mycroft shook his head, and opened his briefcase, took out a big glossy photograph and gave it to Sherlock.

‘What do you know about this woman?’

I looked over Sherlock’s shoulder. The picture portrayed a beautiful woman with black hair and red lipstick.

‘Nothing whatsoever,’ he replied.

‘Then you should be paying more attention. She’s been at the centre of two political scandals in the last year, and recently ended the marriage of a prominent novelist by having an affair with both participants separately.’

Wow.

‘You know I don’t concern myself with trivia. Who is she?’ Sherlock was unbothered.

‘Irene Adler, professionally known as The Woman.’

‘Professionally?’ I asked.

‘There are many names for what she does. She prefers “dominatrix”.’ Mycroft continued.

‘Dominatrix.’ I heard Sherlock mumble.

‘Don’t be alarmed. It’s to do with sex.’

‘Sex doesn’t alarm me.’

‘How would you know?’ Mycroft said, snidely. Sherlock raised his head and stared at his brother. ‘Although, you were found wearing nothing than a sheet in Y/N’s bed…’

What. I looked at Mycroft, dumbfounded. Excuse me? Sherlock looked down at the picture.

‘Mr. Holmes, I am sure that I do not know what you are implying.’ I answered.

‘Nothing sexual of any sort has happened between me and Y/N.’ Sherlock continued.

Mycroft sniggered. ‘Of course not. Nobody would want to have intercourse with my little brother.’

I frowned. Mycroft continued; ‘She provides – shall we say – recreational scolding for those who enjoy that sort of thing and are prepared to pay for it.’ He took more photographs from his briefcase and handed them to Sherlock. ‘These are all from her website.’

Sherlock took the photographs and leaved through them. They were all professional-looking publicity shots for her ‘services’, and they all showed Irene naked. Wow. She was… really pretty.

‘And I assume this Adler woman has some compromising photographs.’

‘You’re very quick, Mr Holmes.’ Harry replied

‘Hardly a difficult deduction. Photographs of whom?’

Mycroft and Harry looked at each other.

‘A person of significance to my employer. We’d prefer not to say any more at this time.

Sherlock put the pictures down at the table in front of us.

‘You can’t tell us anything?’ John asked.

‘We can tell you it’s a young person. A young female person.’

Sherlock smirked. Gotcha.

‘How many photographs?’ I asked.

‘Miss Y/N, you were not even meant to be here, you are not permitted to asking questions-‘

Sherlock raised his right eyebrow.

‘-a considerable number, apparently. Can you help us, Mr Holmes?’

‘How?’

‘Will you take the case?’

‘What case? Pay her, now and in full.’

‘As Miss Adler remarks in her masthead, “Know when you are beaten.”’ I added.

Sherlock turned and reached for his coat which is draped on the back of the sofa, as I flattened my skirt, ready to leave.

‘She doesn’t want anything.’ Mycroft replied.

…

She doesn’t want anything? Sherlock turned back towards him. He continued, ‘she got in touch, she informed us that the photographs existed, she indicated that she had no intention to use them to extort either money or favour.’

‘Oh, a power-play.’ I said. Sherlock smirked. ‘A power play with the most powerful family in Britain. Now that is a dominatrix. Ooh, this is getting rather fun, isn’t it?’

‘Sherlock ...’ John said. Sherlock turned around and reached for his coat again. ‘Where is she?

‘Uh, in London currently. She’s staying -’ Not waiting for him to finish, Sherlock picked up his coat, stood and started to walk away. ‘Text me the details. I’ll be in touch by the end of the day.’

The men and I stood up, and John and I walked over to Sherlock. As I stood up, an overwhelming headache came over me, and I stumbled. John supported me, and mouthed, ‘are you okay?’ I nodded.

‘Do you really think you’ll have news by then?’ Asked Harry.

Sherlock turned back to him, and answered, ‘no, I think I’ll have the photographs.’ I smiled at him.

‘One can only hope you’re as good as you seem to think.’ Harry said.

‘Oh, Mr Harry. He most definitely is.’

Sherlock turned around to look at Mycroft. ‘I’ll need some equipment, of course.’

Mycroft answered, ‘anything you require. I’ll have it sent to ...’

‘Can I have a box of matches?’ Sherlock interrupted, looking at Harry.

‘I’m sorry?’ Harry said.

‘Or your cigarette lighter. Either will do.’ Sherlock held out his hand, waiting for the lighter.

‘I don’t smoke.’

‘No, I know you don’t, but your employer does.’

What was he doing? What did he need matches for?

There was a long pause, where no one was speaking. I looked at john. He was as puzzled as I. Then Harry reached into his pockets and pulled out a lighter, which he handed to Sherlock.

‘We have kept a lot of people successfully in the dark about this little fact, Mr Holmes.’

‘I’m not the Commonwealth,’ Sherlock replied, taking the lighter and putting it into his trouser pocket. Then he walked out of the room.

‘And that’s as modest as he gets. Pleasure to meet you.’ John said to Harry, and we followed Sherlock out.

‘Laters!’ said Sherlock.

#sherlockian #sherlock x reader #sherlock fandom #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock x y/n #sherlock x you #sherlock rp #sherlock fanfic

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littleforksuperiority · 2 years

Text

Unbelievable Chapter III (Sherlock x Reader fanfic)

Links to Chapter I and Chapter IV

2911 words

Chapter III

As I awoke from my sleep the next day, I decided to go out and eat lunch at my usual café. It was 10 am, Sunday forenoon, so I didn’t expect there to be any trouble. But as I got to the café, it was closed. At first, I thought that they perhaps had recently stopped being open on Sundays, but then I saw a man sitting in my usual seat, looking at me. He started waving at me to come in. To my surprise, the door wasn’t locked, and I walked into the café. The man must’ve been in the early 40s with a receding hairline. He wore a grey striped suit.

‘Miss Y/N L/N, hello.’ He made gestures to the chair opposite of him, indicating that I should sit. I continued to stand up. ‘I’m glad that your case has been cleared, and you are no longer a suspect.’

‘I know.’

‘It is to my understanding that you now live in Baker Street, next to Sherlock Holmes. I have an offer for you. It’s regarding Sherlock.’

‘What is your name, Sir?’ I asked. He hesitated for a moment. ‘I make no deal with men whose names I do not even know.’

‘Mark.’

‘No, it’s not.’ He sighed, and then replied, ‘It’s Mycroft.’

‘Mycroft? Really?’ I looked at him, but he did not seem to be lying. ‘So, what’s your offer Mycroft?’

‘Sherlock. He’s- I would like you to spy on him. Nothing harmful, just what he’s up to, how he feels, et cetera. In return, I will pay handsomely.’

‘Why don’t you just talk to him yourself, Mycroft?’

‘I cannot. He sees me as an enemy, unfortunately.’

‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘It is none of my business what you believe. Will you take my offer?’

‘I don’t have anything to do with Sherlock, we’re just neighbours. Why don’t you just ask John? Oh, I see. He has already said no, hasn’t he? And yet, you believe I will say yes. Why?’

Instead of answering my question, he just waited for my proper reply.

‘”Handsomely” is subjective. What is handsome to you may not be to me. Either way, why should I trust you. I am not the type to spy on people who I am fond of, just because a person I do not even know asks me to. The answer is no, Mycroft. I will not spy on Sherlock Holmes.’ I started walking out of the café. ‘That being said, I am sure we’ll meet again, Mr Holmes.’ And with that, I walked out.

Before going back to 221c, I went grocery shopping, so that I’d have food for a couple of days, as well as breakfast for today. I then went to my flat and made breakfast. While eating my food, I watched ‘Doctor Who’ on my laptop. I really had to get a telly.

A little while later, I was brought back to reality by the sound of music. A beautiful melody was being played upstairs on violin. It was a jolly and beautiful melody, so I went to my room to get my flute. You see there’s especially one thing Sherlock had missed with his deductions. I don’t only play the piano; I also play the flute. I got my flute ready and listened carefully to the melody of the violin. Then, I started playing along. Perhaps the violin player heard me, because for a moment the music stopped, but then it quickly picked up the pace again. The melody ended a few minutes later, but even though we only played together for a little while, it was amazing.

The rest of the day went by quite normally.

---

The following morning, I got up at 7, ate breakfast, got dressed, and headed out for work. You see, I work in a bookshop called James’s. Got to make a living somehow. And let me tell you, living in hotel rooms in London is far from cheap.

Walking up the stairs, I met John.

‘Good morning, Y/N,’ he said. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Good morning! I’m just going to work.’

‘Oh really? I didn’t know you had a job.’

‘It’s only temporary till I find a proper one, but it’ll do. I would love to chat, but I do really have to go. I suppose you’re heading out to work as well?’

‘Yes, right,’ he nodded, and we walked out together.

I took the tube a few stops, and then walked the rest of the way. James’s is a small bookshop, and we rarely got customers, especially not before the afternoon. Therefore, I spent most of my time reading. It was a great job really. All I had to do was take customers and restock, so when no one was there, reading was all I could do. This day I was reading a book about time. Fascinating subject, really. Time. Is it a human construct? Does it exist? How does gravity affect it? I was so consumed by this book that I didn’t even notice that someone walked into the shop. Only when I had finished the chapter, I looked up to see the time. That was when I noticed him, just standing there. Looking at me. I don’t know how long he had been there. ‘Can I help you?’ The man’s black hair was slicked back, and he wore a dark grey suit. Funny how so many men had been all dressed up since I met Sherlock. First Mycroft, now this man.

‘Lovely shop you have here.’

‘I agree. It is very cosy. Sorry I didn’t notice you.’

‘Oh no, it’s alright. I was just admiring you. You had such a dreamy look in your eyes.’ I’m sorry, what? Admiring? Aright.

‘Well, no time for daydreaming,’ I smiled and continued ‘what can I help you with?’

‘Well, I came here for one thing, but now I think I may ask for another.’

‘Oh really, what for?’

‘Fancy a drink with me? Tonight?’

I think I might have blushed a bit because the man smiled. ‘So?’ he asked.

‘That’s a kind offer Sir, but I don’t even know your name.’

‘My name is James. And yours?’

‘Y/N. Well, James. I’m afraid I can only serve you if you buy something here. Else I’ll have to send you out again. It says so in my contract.’ I shrugged.

‘So, if I buy something, you’ll go out with me?’ he asked.

‘I’m a lady, I cannot just be bought off like that. But yes, that’s the general idea. If you buy something, I might just show up. Might.’

He smiled and went over to a shelf in the botany section. He then came back with a thin book about poisonous plants.

‘Plants? I’d never have guessed.’ I smiled. In fact, I hadn’t really stopped smiling since he complimented me. That’s my major flaw. I’m a sucker for compliments. He smiled back.

‘That’ll be 8 pounds, please.’

‘With pleasure.’

I gave him the book. ‘So, where will I meet you?’ I asked.

‘I will pick you up,’

I chuckled, ‘No way José. I will meet you. Maybe. If I decide to show up.’

‘Alright then.’ He smiled. ‘Sisco’s 8 o’clock?’

‘You got a deal. If I remember it that is.’

He chuckled, step a few steps back, bowed while turning on his heel, and walked out of the shop. I had a date that night. A proper date.

Now I’m not really that into dating, nor meeting new people, but I thought maybe, just maybe, one night out would be fun. Else I’d just have to sit inside the flat all day. Of course, it wouldn’t lead to anything serious.

As I went home at 6pm, I was greeted by the man known as Sherlock as soon as I walked down the stairs.

‘Where have you been?’ he asked.

‘At work? Is John not home now? He would be able to tell you.’

‘He is but… I haven’t spoken to him.’

‘You live with him. How can you not have spoken to him!?’

‘I’ve uh,’ he coughed ‘been here.’

‘You’ve been here? At my front door? For how long?’

‘I went to ask you to join me for lunch.’

‘LUNCH!? Sherlock, it’s 6pm!’

‘Oh. It is alright. I have been thinking the past couple of hours.’

‘Thinking?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh wow. Well, it’s a bit early for dinner, but you haven’t eaten lunch yet. Fancy a dinner with me?’

‘Yes, that would be nice. You can come up to b.’

‘Yes. Then we can eat with John, he must be hungry after work.’

We went up into the flat. It was still a mess. The skull had been moved approximately 5 centimetres. The mess was new. There were new newspaper clippings, and new books and cups laying around. On one of the chairs a new piece of paper lay.

‘There you are, Sherlock. I was beginning to think you had taken a walk without your coat, which would be stupid in this weather, even for you.’ John was sitting in the other chair with a cup of tea in his hand.

‘Hi there. Y/N!’ he looked from Sherlock to me, then back to Sherlock.

‘Y/N is eating dinner with us.’ Sherlock said, and went over to the empty chair. He stopped for a second looking at the paper, and then folded it and put it in his pocket. He then sat down.

‘Yes, I am if it’s not too much trouble.’

‘Of course not!’ John replied, smiling. ‘I was going to make One-Pot-Pasta, if that’s alright with you. It’s nothing special really, just a bunch of stuff mixed with each other. In a pot.’

‘I can help cook!’

‘No, I’ve got it.’

‘I can’t just sit here and wait, you’re far too kind. I’m actually good with food.’

‘No really, just sit down here instead of me, and talk a bit with Sherlllll,’ he smiled.

‘I-‘

John walked out to the kitchen, gesturing to his chair. I sat down. I think at least 20 minutes went by in silence. It wasn’t awkward though Sherlock was thinking, and I was reading. Not a book, or a text. I was reading his face. His left eye flickering when I realized something. His hands pressed to each other, yet barely touching, in front of his face. The way that his left hand curled just a bit more than the right. I could go on, but you’re probably already bored.

’23 busses all drove into the Thames within 5 minutes. Want to go?’ Sherlock suddenly said.

‘What?’

‘New case.’

‘Oh Sherlock, I’d love to, but I have to go in…’ I looked at my watch, ‘an hour.’

John walked out of the kitchen with a plate in each hand. ‘Where are you going?’ he said putting down the plates on the dinner table.

‘I’ve, uh, I have a date.’

John who was on his way to the kitchen stopped in his steps. ‘Wow. Who’s the lucky guy?’ He looked at Sherlock.

‘Oh no, no, not Sherlock. He’s… well I just met him today. At work. He’s very nice.’

‘Ah. Right.’ John walked back into the kitchen, got the last plate, and put it on the table.

‘Dinner’s ready!’

I walked over to the table, but Sherlock stayed in his seat. As I sat down, he spoke, ‘this guy, he’s not named Jim, right?’

‘No, he’s not. And don’t worry it’s not Mycroft either.’ Sherlocks eyes dilated. ‘Oh yeah, that reminds me. Your brother says hi!’

Sherlock didn’t say anything about me casually mentioning Mycroft. Instead, he walked over to the table and sat down. Dinner went by fast. We talked a bit, but nothing worthy of re-enacting. It was really nice spending time with the boys though. I know I was hesitant to live next to them, but even though it’d only been a few days, and I had only spoken to them a little, they had really grown on me. I usually prefer being alone over company. I tend to rub people the wrong way. I never feel lonely or anything. But these two I actually liked. Especially Sherlock. Do not get me wrong. Not in a romantic way. No, no. He was just… fascinating. Pleasing for the eye. Plus, his intelligence was extraordinary. Amazing.

John was a really good cook. This One Pot Pasta of his was amazing. I really had to get that recipe of his.

When we finished eating, I had only 30 minutes till I had to be at Sisco’s, so I went to my apartment to refresh my makeup. Nothing special, just to put some colour back to my face. When I walked out, Sherlock was standing at the front door.

‘Why is your face all coloured in?’

I chuckled. Please. ‘I’m going on the date, Sherlock. Why are you here?’

‘John told me to.’

‘To what?’

‘Be here.’ Please, what?

‘Why?’

He stared blankly for a second. ‘I don’t know,’ he answered.

Istg this boy.

‘I have to go now.’

‘I know. You’re going to be late.’

‘I am never late, darling,’ I said, as I closed the door.

He was right, I was late. I took the underground tube a few stops again, and Sisco’s was almost right at the stop. Sisco’s was full. Like really full. There were people everywhere. As I walked in, I spotted James sitting at a candlelit table furthest from the crowd. I walked over there.

‘Hiii, sorry I’m late!’

‘Ah, don’t worry cutie.’ He smiled, stood up, and moved the other chair out so that I could sit.

‘Thank you so much!’ I smiled. A waiter came over with two glasses of white wine. I thanked her as she placed one glass in front of me, and one for James.

‘So… I don’t actually know anything about you yet, James. We’re practically strangers.’ James smiled.

‘I know that you’re a beautiful intelligent young woman called Y/N who works in a bookshop. What more do I need to know?’

I chuckled. He was cute. ‘I like the TV-series Doctor who. And I like music. I actually play the flute! It’s amazing. Sometimes when I’m sad I play it. It cheers me up. It’s really difficult though because playing the flute requires a lot of lung capacity, and when you cry it’s compromised, which means that blowing into the flute becomes really difficult. Yesterday my new neighbour and I played together, or at least I think, I just heard beautiful music coming from upstairs, so I tuned in- oh sorry. I’m rambling.’

‘No, it’s cute. Please tell me more about the flute!’

‘I think not. How about you tell me something about yourself.’

He smiled and sighed. ‘I’m James. I work as a children’s entertainer. I star in movies and voiceovers. I really enjoy making children happy. They’re so cute.’

‘You like children!? That’s adorable!’

He laughed. ‘Yes, I really adore kids. I hope you don’t think that’s weird…’

‘No!’ He smiled. ‘Sorry I… I think it’s cute!’

‘Well, I think you’re cute, what a great match… sorry that was corny.’

This may all seem extremely corny from a third person’s POV, but at the moment, it was amazing. He kept talking about his likes and dislikes. I just listened. It was great.

Every time I finished a glass of wine, a new one appeared. And after a couple of those, it was various drinks. I’m not going to lie, I’m not a big drinker, so I quickly became quite tipsy.

James kept talking, but as he saw how drunk I was becoming he stopped.

‘Hey Y/N, are you okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ Shit. Headache.

‘Perhaps we should continue another day? It’s been amazing, but you’re- I am very tired, even though it’s only 10pm, and I should get home.’

‘Righttt.’

‘Do you want me to drive you home?’

‘No, it’s fine!’ I stumbled off the chair, and onwards out of Sisco’s.

‘Y/N!’ James shouted. I ignored him, and tried to get out of the pub. I accidentally stumbled into a group of guys. ‘Heyyyy babe,’ a winked at me, and someone touched my butt. Gross. ‘Wanna stay here with me tonight,’ some other guy said, looking at my breasts. Shit.

‘Stay away from her, creeps!’ That was James. Someone took me by the waist and let me out of the crowed. James. We walked to his car, and he drove me to Baker Street.

‘Do you want me to follow you in, darling?’

‘Dar- Darling? No, sorry, I’m, I’m fine James.’ I walked out of the car, and into the 221 building.

Sherlock much to my surprise was standing in the hallway as I walked in.

‘Hello Y/N’

‘Sherlcod whaldaks dooibf hrei’ I mumbled.

‘What?’

‘Sherlock, what are you doing here?’

‘Are you alright Y/N?’ I closed the door and stumbled into Sherlock. Wow, he was tall. He had really pretty curly hair. Or wavy. I don’t know. His eyes. Oh, his eyes. They were a greenish-blue. Or blueish green? I don’t know. Just pretty.

‘Y/N?’

‘You’re pretty Mr Holmes.’

‘You smell like alcohol Miss Y/N’

I think I hugged him in response. I’m not sure, I can’t really remember. But I do remember Sherlock leading me into my flat, I remember him tucking me into bed, and I remember… well I remember that I kissed him on the head and said, “thank you, Sherlock.”

#sherlock fanfic #sherlock holmes #sherlock x reader #sherlock fandom #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock x y/n

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littleforksuperiority · 2 years

Text

Unbelievable Chapter II (Sherlock x Reader fanfic)

Links to Chapter I and Chapter III

2599 words

Chapter II

First thing as he went out the door, Sherlock walked straight out on the street in front of a car, seemingly nonchalant about what would occur if the car didn’t stop. Luckily, the moving car was a cab, and stopped by the sight him.

Sherlock had apparently not gotten any details from the short phone conversation, which according to John was odd, as he only took on cases that interested him.

Arriving at the location was not as I had expected. It was a local shop on the outskirts of London called M&B. The surrounding street around the store had been closed off, and three police cars were parked in front. A woman with remarkable hair stood leaning up the driver’s side of a grey car.

‘Hello freak & CO. Oh, you have a new one with you.’ She spoke. ‘Wait a second. Are you not the criminal? You murdered three children you monster. What the actual hell are you doing here!?’ she stepped towards me, but Sherlock immediately answered.

‘She was proven innocent.’

‘By who?’

‘It’s by “whom”’ I butted in. She gave me a mildly horrifying look.

‘By me. She would never murder someone.’ He looked at me and then corrected himself. ‘She would never murder three children.’

‘How would you know? Do you even have any proof? We know that she wasn’t at her hotel at the time, and she has no alibis. Her hair was on the floor! Her fingerprints on the broken bottle used to smash the children’s heads. It was her.’

I felt something bubble up inside me. When I had first been accused of the murders of these children I almost broke down. How could they believe that of me? But I kept it together. I had to. But now? I was no murderer. I had never been. I felt like just collapsing and crying on the floor. Sherlock looked at me and saw right through me. His hand lightly touched mine, and then it wasn’t anymore. It almost was as if it was an accident. As if he just accidentally was a bit too close. But it wasn’t. I knew it wasn’t. And that was what gave me the courage to stand up for myself.

‘Oh, please. If I wanted to murder someone, I would hardly use something like a bottle. And I would most definitely not leave any clues as to who I was as obvious as those. If I was the murderer, then only Sherlock would be able to solve my case, and you my dear, wouldn’t believe him. You have my school records, do you not? I am smart, and you know it. You may look down on me, but trust me, I am probably the smartest here-’ Sherlock coughed. ‘Except maybe for this guy,’ I smiled and poked him lightly in the ribs with my elbow.

‘I believe you,’ said John behind me.

‘Thank you, John. Even if though it is just because Sherlock has a hold on your heart.’ I turned around to see Sherlock, but he had disappeared. ‘I’m guessing he’s already inside?’ John nodded.

Walking into the store was thrilling in a way that I had never experienced before, but as we came in, nothing was wrong. Shelves were complete, there were no cryptic messages, no bodies. Sherlock was not there either. So, I did what any rational person would do; lick the floor. Just kidding I went into the back room, the one with the big “EMPLOYERS ONLY’ sign. The room looked like it functioned as both a small kitchen, and a storage room. At my left, there was another door, and just as I thought, at my right was Sherlock, although he was not in a position I had expected. He was lying next to the body of a young woman in a starfish position. I chose not to question it. The woman, or girl rather, could easily pass for a 20-year-old, but as I looked deeper, I realised that she could be no older than 16. She was dressed in a short skirt and a cropped white T-shirt. In her hand was a kitchen knife with blood on it. The wound on her right breast had coloured most of her white shirt and seemed to have been the fatal blow. Her blue eyes were still open, her pupils dilated. Her left cheek was slightly redder than the other.

‘This is Rosalie Gardens. She’s 16 and works here. It is suspected that she committed suicide, as the knife suggests.’ I recognised the voice as to be a policeman from earlier. Lestrade, I think it was.

‘I don’t bother with names Graham,’ Sherlock said. I couldn’t help but challenge him.

‘Oh really? What’s my name?’

‘Don’t know, and I don’t care.’ I looked up at him, expectantly. He sighed. ‘Y/N.’

‘Thank you, Mr Holmes.’

I walked over to Rosalie and squatted next to her. ‘She’s 16 and working here alone?’ Lestrade nodded. She was just a kid. Sherlock didn’t seem to care.

‘She’s been dead for no longer than two hours. She came from a poor family, hence the terrible job. The quality of her clothes tells us that much.’

‘Actually Sherlock, I think she might have come from a richer family than you’d think.’ I said pointing at her jewellery. ‘All her jewellery is real. Real gold on her earrings, necklace, and rings. A poor family wouldn’t be able to afford that, and she would therefore know better than to use all her money on jewellery. I’m guessing that she bought the clothes herself, but the jewellery are gifts. This job probably doesn’t pay that well, so she couldn’t afford good quality clothes. Her family on the other hand has money enough to get her real gold jewellery, and it’s not just gold plated.’

‘Why wouldn’t she just get a better job then?’ Sherlock asked, confused.

‘Sherlock, this is London. There are loads of teenagers trying to get jobs here, and she hardly had any qualifications to beat them. She’s probably just glad that she has a job. Sorry. She was.’

Sherlock shrugged, and went over to inspect the wound, pulling Rosalie’s top up.

‘Ahem,’ I coughed.

‘What? I need to inspect the wound,’ he said, puzzled.

‘You don’t need to. That knife obviously isn’t the murder weapon. There is no way that big knife made a hole so small.’

‘Y/N, you might not get this, but there are other wildly important factors of the wound than just the size.’

‘Right, let us let the professional doctors take a look first.’ Lestrade said. ‘They haven’t had the chance yet.’

‘But I-‘

‘You might want to ask the doctors to check for poison.’ I said cutting Sherlock off.

‘Poison?’ Lestrade asked.

‘Yes.’

‘But the wound?’

‘Made after death.’

‘How can you-‘

‘Belladonna.’ Sherlock answered.

‘The porn star?’ asked Lestrade.

Sherlock and I looked at each other.

‘The poison,’ we said simultaneously.

‘Atropa belladonna, also known as the deadly nightshade, is a widely poisonous plant. Common knowledge. It was earlier used as medicine. She most likely somehow ate its berries. It grows here in England. She could have just accidentally eaten it, except the wound throws that idea out of the window.’ Sherlock explained.

‘The plant was used as a beauty product in the Victorian age, as it when ingested dilates one’s pupils, for the so-called “doe look”. It was and still is used for medicine. Rosalie’s eyes are severely dilated. Could be a coincidence, but I think not.’ I continued.

‘So, she was poisoned? Then why come and stab her with a knife? And why place a whole other knife by the body?’

‘Good question Gregory.’ Sherlock asked, as I subtly chuckled. Did he forget Greg’s name on purpose, or was he really just so consumed by other things? ‘The murderer tried to distract us from the poison by the wound. They most likely used a personal knife for the “suicide”, and then regretted it, placing a new non-personal knife in her hand. Might even have been a knife from this store. Try looking for opened packaging in trashcans.’ One of the police officers

‘Right, but who did it?’ Asked Lestrade.

‘A child,’ I answered. ‘Well, not a child, but a person her age. Either that, or someone who’s just completely sloppy with their work. Do we know anything about her? Any reasons someone might want to get rid of her?’ The room fell silent. I suppose not then. ‘Surely a place like this has security cameras, have you checked them?’

‘They’ve been wiped,’ said Lestrade. ‘No proof of who went in here the last 24 hours.’

Great. I quickly glanced around the room for a bag, as she did not have any pockets, but I couldn’t find one. In the dishwasher was a single cup and plate.

‘What do we know about her? Any friends, family, people she disliked?

‘She went to Purfield Academy. She studied nursing.’ Lestrade answered

I picked up my phone and quickly found the information I wanted.

‘Sherlock you’re coming with me,’ I said, grabbing him by the arm and walking out of the store with Sherlock stumbling behind me.

‘What is going on?’ asked John as we got out of the store.

‘The victim was Rosalie Gardens. 16 years old. There is a big party, and apparently half of her school is attending. We’re going as well.’ I answered. ‘What have you been doing out here?’

‘You were gone for less than five minutes; I was just getting information about the case. I was just on my way in.’

‘Ah. Right,’ Sherlock said and called a cab.

---

As we arrived at the party I explained. ‘I found her choice of outfit odd. It’s winter, yet she was wearing a short skirt and cropped top. She was planning to go to this party after work. When I got the name of her school it wasn’t hard to find this.’

‘Brilliant.’ John answered. ‘But how are we going to get in?’

‘This party is so big; I hardly think they check who comes in. Sherlock and I are already in acceptable clothes. Were both wearing collared shirts. But your sweater John… ah it’ll be fine, you look great!’

And with that, we walked into the party. The music was loud, and there were flashing colourful lights. The air was warm and humid, and smelled like teenage sweat. Single-use cups were thrown everywhere. I was never really big on parties.

‘Hopefully, we can find someone who knows Rosalie!’ I shouted and walked up to a group of girls.

‘Hi!’, one of the girls shouted. She had long curly hair, and a remarkable smoky eye. ‘You’re not students of PA, are you?’

I grabbed Sherlock’s hand. ‘No, we just saw a party, and decided to join!’ I replied. ‘I’m Y/N btw! This is my brother John and my boyfriend Sherlllll’. I looked up atSherlockk and smiled. His shocked face was back, but only for a millisecond. Adorable. ‘We’re friends of Rosalie. Rosalie Gardens. Do you know her?’

‘Rosalie? Aren’t you a bit old to be her friends?’

‘Whaaat, no! I’m 18, Sherl here is 25, while John is 30. Old man.’ I whispered the last part. ‘I’m just great at makeup! I’ve used it a lot before I turned 18 to buy alcohol’. I winked, and she laughed.

‘Well, I haven’t seen Rosalie, but I’m Emma! And this is Vega, Tommie, and Mai.’ They waved, and I did back. ‘But Rosalie’s boyfriend José is over there, maybe he has seen her.’ She pointed at a young man with curly brown hair standing with a few guys. We thanked her and began to walk over to him.

‘Sherl?’ Sherlock asked.

‘Really, that’s the part you choose to question!?’ John replied. ‘And did you just call me old? Also, you’re only 18?’

‘I’m 21, but that’s not important, just follow my lead. I remember being their age, you probably don’t.’

José sat on a leather couch, with a beer in his hand. His mates were all standing.

‘José! Great to finally meet you,’ I said. ‘I’m a friend of Rosalie’s.’

‘Rosalie?’ He responded.

‘Yeah, Rosalie. Your girlfriend. Have you seen her?’ The boys around him started laughing.

‘You must mean EX-girlfriend,’ one of them said. ‘She broke up with him today. Left him a bloody mess.’

‘Oi, shut up!’ José answered.

‘She broke up with you? Wow. But you’re such a handsome young fella, I bet all the girls are swooning over you.’ I walked a step closer, but he didn’t seem to notice.

‘Hah, they are, I would’ve broken up with her anyways, she was annoying.’ He rolled his eyes. Someone grabbed a microphone somewhere and began drunkenly singing. Jeez, it was still early. This caused an uproar momentarily.

‘I’ll just go check on that,’ I said, waving at Sherlock and John to come with me. When José was no longer watching us, I walked out of the building.

‘Well, that was short. And useless.’ Said John. Sherlock sighed.

‘No John. Not useless. This José obviously has something to do with the case.’

‘You’re not seriously suggesting that he murdered Rosalie, just because she broke up with him!? That’s insane Sherlock, even for you.’ John replied.

‘Actually,’ I said, taking out a small knife from my jacket pocket. This was in his coat. I snatched it when the guy was singing. The knife was small and delicate, with two letters engraved on the handle. “JO”, probably his initials. It seemed to be the same size as the wound on Rosalie’s chest.

‘Jesus Christ,’ John mumbled.

‘Also,’ Sherlock continued, ‘he definitely had a temper. On his right hand, he had a ring. On the victim’s left cheek was a red mark, with a small dent in the middle. A slap with his right hand would land on her left cheek, with the ring making a mark.’

‘And he spoke about her in past tense; “she was annoying”. Normally I’d just let it slide, but there’s too many clues pointing at him,’ I said.

‘No, he’s like 17! There’s no way he could murder a girl, just because I didn’t want her to date someone else!?’

‘I agree that there must be another motive, but I am fairly certain that he was the murderer. It was at least his knife puncturing her body,’ I said.

John then asked: ‘But what about the belladonna?’

‘Ingested via tea,’ Sherlock replied. ‘Any part of the plant had been put in her tea. Atropa Belladonna is extremely dangerous even in small amounts. I noticed a used mug in the sink of the room.’

‘I still can’t believe it,’ John cried.

We then went back to the shop to talk to Lestrade.

Lestrade did not believe me at first, as I explained the story. ‘Impossible,’ he said. But when Sherlock butted in, and told him that I was right, he had no doubt.

After that, we went back to our flats.

‘Well, that was an easy case,’ said Sherlock.

‘That’s what happens when you don’t hear the details first,’ John replied. Sherlock grunted.

‘I apologise for calling you my boyfriend by the way,’ I said looking at Sherlock. ‘I just couldn’t resist. Plus, it was a credible reason to go to the party. A night out with my boyfriend and brother. Just amazing.’

Sherlock didn’t reply. ‘Goodnight then,’ I said to both of them, and went down to my flat, only to find that I hadn’t finished unpacking, and therefore had to stay up another hour, yay.

#Sherlock #sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock holmes

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littleforksuperiority · 2 years

Text

Unbelievable Chapter I (Sherlock x Reader fanfic)

A/N: So this is my first ever fanfic... and the first time I'm ever using Tumblr. If you have any recommendations or anything like that, please say!

This fanfic takes place before series 2 really starts, but after "the pool scene"

Link to Chapter II

2472 words

Chapter I

‘Why did you do it?’ the shorter man asked, as his companion tiredly looked at him, silently.

‘Hmm... why don’t you ask your friend over there?’ I said pointing at the companion, who now had closed his eyes. In response, I only got muttering from both parts.

‘Oh, come on!’ I rose from the chair, hands placed in the handcuffs on the table, making me bend forward just a tad.

‘Didn’t really think that through?’, the shorter man chuckled, looking at my hands. Instead of responding, I flung him a small grin, spitting a small object out into my hand. As my hands quickly opened the handcuffs, the short man hurriedly tried to stand, but his companion made him sit.

‘But!?’ he cried out with a confused look on his face. I walked over to the men but paid the noisy man no attention.

‘Sherlock Holmes!’ I said, giving his hand a quick shake. ‘What an absolute pleasure! Now then, why did I do it? Surely you must know. I mean you are the famous Sherlock Holmes, the Detective with the Hat!’

The man huffs, muttering a few words.

‘What was that? Couldn’t quite hear you.’ I squatted down next to him.

He muttered something again, ever so slightly louder, just loud enough for me to hear it, whilst his companion was still in the dark.

‘What?’ the companion asked.

‘She didn’t do it John!’ The man almost shouted. ‘I was wrong.’

‘No, no you can’t be. I- I mean all the evidence is right there, and you’re never wrong? Even the police didn’t doubt you for a second on this case, it was like cutting through butter for you.’

‘Exactly John. It was too easy,’ the detective said. ‘The only thing that was missing was the motive. Why would she do it? She didn’t even know them.’

‘She was framed?’

‘Yes. I was framed. Took you long enough to figure that out, all though Mr. Holmes here most likely knew since the moment he saw me. His eyes were flickering like he had a seizure, it was quite the sight. But I’m afraid that I have really got to go now boys, I’ll be late,’ I said with an ever so faint smile.

‘Late? This is a police investigation; you can’t just walk out!’

‘Can’t I? I have just been found innocent. Whoever did this crime almost beat Sherlock Holmes! What an honour to have been part of it. Adieu!’ I quickly walked out of there taking my phone from the front desk as I walked by. They didn’t need it anyways; it was no longer any use as proof.

Of course, I didn’t actually have anywhere to be, but I really was starving. It was 5 in the afternoon, and I hadn’t even had lunch yet! I had been walking down to get my lunch from my usual place at 2pm when I was snatched up by the police. Turns out that police investigations take quite a while.

As I got to my usual restaurant and ordered their Spaghetti Carbonara (which is brilliant btw), I got a phone call. I don’t usually pick up my phone as I find speaking to people through it quite annoying, but as I was waiting for my food, and had nothing else to do, I picked it up.

The conversation went as follows:

‘You have reached Y/N’s phone, leave a message by the beep… beeeeeeep.’

‘This is Greg… from the police. Sherlock has informed us that you are in fact innocent, but we still need to keep an eye on you. We know that you currently have no permanent address and are living in a hotel. We, therefore, ask you to temporarily move into an apartment. A deal has been made with the owner, and you would have to pay no fees.’ Police never “asks”. This isn’t a request, it’s an order.

‘And uh, I reckon you would like to know the apartment number. Luckily it is not far from your current hotel, only a few hundred meters. Now the address is 221c Baker street- ‘

‘No.’

Baker Street. No bloody way. There was no way that I would move next to those two. Did they just expect me not to know Sherlock Holmes’s address? Why did he have to keep an eye on me anyway, I’m not his problem.

The phone rang again. I didn’t take it of course. So, it rang again. And again. And again. It was almost impressive how persistent they were about this.

It rang a final time, as my carbonara arrived. Silently, of course, there was no way I’d listen to the ringing for so long. And as I took my first bite, or slurp really, he stood there in the doorway. No, not the detective, Greg. The policeman.

‘Y/N we are serious.’ Did he speak of himself as “we” now? I wasn’t aware that he was the Queen.

‘This is a legal matter if you don’t comply you will actually go to jail.’

I swallowed slowly and dried my mouth with a napkin, watching him sigh.

‘Sorry sir, it’s impolite to speak when chewing your food. Now I believe I have made my answer clear. No. No, I will not live next to Sherlock Holmes and his boyfriend.’

‘They’re not- never mind that. Yes, you will. Your stuff has already been moved there; you need to go.’

‘Can you not just get it for me? Please?’ asked, making doe eyes. ‘It would really be quite the help, Greg.’ Eye contact.

‘Ahem, no. You need to go Y/N.’

‘Ugh fine.’ And just like that, I was being escorted by Greg to my new apartment.

Did I give up easily? I didn’t give up. I just realized, that maybe, just maybe, I could be on the receiving end of this deal.

---

221c wasn’t a bad apartment so to say, and it being a basement apartment was quite nice. My belongings had indeed been moved down there, and after a quick talk with Greg about the duration of this “deal” (in which the answer had been ‘as long as necessary’ very helpful, thanks) he had left, and I had started unpacking. It was then I heard knocking on the door.

As I opened it, I was received by the face of an annoyed detective and a smug-looking policeman.

‘Ah sorry Y/N, I lost my keys.’

‘I know,’ I said, tossing him his keys. ‘And what about you Mr Holmes, by what do I owe the pleasure?’

‘John told me to invite you to tea.’

‘John… is he your boyfriend? The grey-haired one? Quite short, looks like a hobbit?’

No response.

‘Just kidding. But no actually, I am quite busy, so I am very sorry but I’ll have to decline-‘

‘You can’t!’ he said, cutting me off. ‘He’s very persistent, if you don’t come, he will murder me.’

‘Looking forward to it. Be a lamb and ask him to invite me to the funeral, will you?’

And then I closed the door.

Half an hour went by, and I was about halfway done with decorating my new apartment when I heard new knocks on my door. They were louder, heavier, as if done by someone with a broader hand. My guess was John. Which was right of course.

‘Good evening, John, so nice to see you again! We may not have come off on the best foot earlier, and I am so sorry if I came off as rude. By what do I owe the pleasure?’

‘Tea? My place. I-I mean our place. Sherlock and mine. He said you refused?’

‘What? I would never, that’s a lovely idea, we can be properly introduced as neighbours! I have not seen Sherlock since earlier at the station, only Greg has come to visit me.’

John sighed. ‘Right, I should have thought so. But you will come?’

‘Of course!’

And then we went up the stairs and into apartment b.

The apartment was a mess. Like, really, a mess. There was newspaper everywhere as well as books cups and other things that I won’t even begin to explain. The skull on the fireplace was a nice touch though.

‘Sherlock I can’t believe you would just lie this way!’ John shouted. ‘Y/N is a super nice young woman, and you didn’t even go down to invite her, instead, you just said that she didn’t want to come. That’s really not fair. What did she ever do to you? We barely know her, and we’re neighbours now you know. Don’t be so rude.’

Sherlock’s confused look got wiped away when he saw me slightly smiling. It did suit him though. Being confused. Made his face look more… pretty. Yes, it was prettier.

‘A proper introduction this time. I’m Y/N L/N. I now live next to you. Or actually, under you, it’s complicated.’ I put my hand out towards him, and as he didn’t react, I took his into mine and kissed it. Like a gentleman kissing a lady’s hand. This put the confused look back on his face for just a moment, although it was better before.

I was then asked to sit, and as I did John went out into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

‘So, Sherlock. What can you deduct from me?’

‘Why do you care?’

‘I have heard many tales of you, and I would like to know if they are true. So, what can you see?’

‘Oh, please don’t,’ John said from the kitchen.

The next four seconds were silent, and I used them to look at the tall man in front of me. Without the coat, he actually looked quite a bit shorter, and less mysterious. He had very defined facial structures and dark curly hair. At that moment, I imagined that he would be popular with the ladies, but soon realised, that he was far too odd for that.

‘You’re in your early 20’s yet have further education than what is presumed for people your age. You didn’t have an apartment before 221c, and you do not have any pets, although you did have one when you were younger. You rarely hold vacations, and when you do, you do not go out tanning. You dislike sports but are not particularly bad at them. You like dressing up and putting makeup on, but do not feel the need for it every day, since you do it for yourself, and yourself only. You like science, which is what has made you so smart, but that is not what you’re studying. You used to play the piano but stopped, presumably because you didn’t have the time. Oh, and you’re single.’ He looks up at John who had just stepped out of the kitchen at the last sentence.

‘Impressive. Dare I ask how you gathered so much information?’

‘No.’ John quickly said.

‘It is easy to estimate your age. You did not have a lot of furniture, of course, it could’ve just not been moved yet, but you seemed oddly out of place in your new apartment, like you weren’t used to having your own place. Your skin is pale, and you have visible dark circles under your eyes, which indicate working late, but they are deep, rooted into your skin, so staying up late isn’t a one-time thing, it’s an everyday occurrence. I had a peak at your clothes in your apartment, and while you do not have a lot, they are good quality and formal. You also had a small makeup back in your suitcase indicating the use of makeup. You have papercuts on your hand, at least two, probably from reading of some sort, but all school things are online, so this is a spare-time habit. You had only one book in your suitcase, but it had been read thoroughly. It was about string theory, which on the surface doesn’t have to be advanced, but that book sure was. Your hands, although your fingers aren’t long, they are agile as seen from your little key trick, but your leftie is struggling a bit, because of little recent playing. I would say more but John is going to kill me soon.’

John nodded affirmingly.

‘Also, you have a certain ambience about you. You seem like you know your stuff.’

‘Childhood pet?’

‘Accurate 70% of the time.’

I smiled. He was good, but I had expected more somehow. Don’t know what though.

‘So, how did he do?’ John asked.

‘Very well. Although, I am no longer a student, graduated recently. The dark circles are not from studying, they’re just there.’

Sherlock grinned as John gave us our tea, and after a sip, I asked; ‘So, what do you do when there are no crimes to be solved?’

‘Play Cluedo. Oh, and John goes on dates.’ He winked at John.

‘Oh? I asked. ‘Who is the lucky someone?’

‘Well, you see. John here has a difficult time keeping the same woman for more than one date.’ He grinned.

‘Really? I can’t imagine that, he’s quite the attractive fellow!’ I smiled at John. Flattering gets you everywhere.

‘Ah well, uhm, thank you,’ John blushed. Bingo. ‘And you too Mr Sherlock Holmes,’ I said looking directly into his eyes. Sherlock was unfaced.

‘So, with John going on dates and all, I suppose the rumour of you two being a couple has been debunked,’ I said, askingly. John shook his head chuckling. Not in a disproving manner, but it was obvious that he was tired of the question.

‘Sherlock is not my boyfriend,’ he replied. ‘I am not gay.’

‘Hmm, Mrs Hudson doesn’t seem to believe that.’

‘WHAT? She told you that?’

‘I’m smart John. She didn’t need to.’

Sherlock smiled to himself believing that no one could see him, as I was too busy speaking with John.

A few moments later a phone rang. Both John and Sherlock immediately stood up, as if they expected the phone to be magical. No more than five seconds after having picked it up, Sherlock put it down again, and quickly put on his coat. John was already ready. It all happened rather quickly, and I had no time to react. Sherlock looked at me expectantly.

‘Are you coming?’ he asked.

‘Coming where, is it a case?’

‘Sherlock...’ John said. ‘She’s a suspected criminal.’

‘Proven innocent,’ Sherlock answered with a stern look on his face, and John recognised that he could not win this discussion.

‘So?’ Sherlock asked looking towards me.

‘On the case? But the tea.’

‘The tea?’

‘I have not finished it, I only got it a minute ago.’

‘Screw the bloody tea,’ John answered.

‘But- ‘

‘Come along,’ Sherlock said already out of the door. And so, I went out on my first ever case with Mr Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson.

#sherlock x y/n #sherlock holmes #sherlockian #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #sherlock bbc #sherlock rp #sherlock x reader

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