Sherlock: Oneshots and Imagines [request open]

(Angst) Good 4 U: Sherlock x reader

Song: Good 4 U by Olivia Rodrigo

~~~

Sherlock took a deep breath, exhaling slowly to stop a groan from emitting. John noticed this immediately, watching his best friend eye the evidence--an invitation found in the victims purse that Lestrade had brought to the flat.

"I'll get in trouble for bringing that here so what is it?" Lestrade asked what was on everyone mind. However, Mycroft scoffed in amusement when he saw the headline.

"It seems this particular club holds a lot of Sherlock's past," Mycroft points his umbrella right at the lead singer for the band playing.

"The... singer?"

"Yes, yes, should we go then?" Sherlock huffed, slipping on his coat and taking the invitation.

~~~

"So why was with Mycroft being cryptic? More so than usual..." John mutters the last bit as the blasting music met their ears.

"Who knows? He does enjoy being a pain," Sherlock dismisses, walking into the club with Lestrade and John by his side.

Upon the stage was the main band playing their hearts out with the lead singer turned away, singing to the drummer. Her shirt was stylishly ruined, skirt pleated with a plaid pattern and ripped fishnets paired with thick leather boots.

"She's pretty good, huh?" John compliments, titling his head at Sherlock who scowled. "Not a fan?"

"No..."

"Maybe I'm too emotional..." you finally turn around, moving forward slowly.

Sherlock's heart dropped just after it skipped a beat. The way your h/c hair framed your face, the glint in your e/c eyes and the purple lighting against your s/c skin. You were just as beautiful as he remembered.

"Or maybe you never cared at all!" The back up singers started to sing along with you as your eyes set on the detective. Clenching your jaw, your eyes narrowed as the next line came up. "Good for you, you're doin' great out there without me, baby... Like a damn sociopath!" You sing right into the microphone, flipping Sherlock off without a care, lifting your face up and belting the lyrics.

John and Lestrade snap their heads to the younger Holmes with gaping grins. "Oh, wow," Lestrade laughs as Sherlock sighed.

"So... you dated a rockstar?"

"I've lost my mind, I've spent the night, cryin' on the floor of my bathroom..." You walk off the stage with your eyes set on Sherlock. "But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it, but I guess good for you!" Finally inches apart, your lips tilted up. "Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily,"

People cheered behind you as the two men beside your ex were pursing lips to suppress laughter in a response to trying to process the shock of it all.

"Y/n," Sherlock murmurs.

"Sherly," you retort with a heaving breath while handing the microphone back to a manager. "What are you doing here? If I remember correctly... you called this all childish,"

"I called your dreams childish,"

"And guess who's living it?" You raised your hands a gestured to it all. "Feel special knowing that song was about you? Or are you still a careless sociopathic arse?"

Sherlock's face dropped as he bit the inside of his cheeks. "I never meant to-"

"Hurt me?" Scoffing at his words, you walk away only for him and the other two to follow.

"Y/n, please," he murmurs. "This isn't about us-"

"There isn't an us!" You snap, turning to him and pushing him back. "Not anymore..."

"Then this isn't about what we had... this is about a case-"

"'Course..." tears threatened to form lightly along the edge of your eyes. "It's always a case, isn't it? The case of the missing berries... Curious incident of the red bunny... Mysterious girl down the hall," you spit out sourly.

Sherlock clenched his fists in anger, pain from every memory he could remember with you. He missed you, but god how he'd never admit it, he refused to.

You weren't just the girl down the hall...

~~~

"Nice flat," you drop your bag at the door, eyeing the stacks of paper, messy decor and other items. Moving around to inspect it all, you spot a leather chair and sit in it, kicking your legs up and relaxing.

"That's-" Lestrade starts only for Sherlock to cut him off.

"I just need your help with these bands, night life isn't my... scene," he holds a file to you.

"Would have never guessed," you sneer, flipping through mindlessly. Each victim obviously had a connection: Neon paints- no, not actual paint, it was a name of an elite lounge for singers meaning drugs and many unlawful activities.

"So... how did you two... you know," John broke the silence as Sherlock closed his eyes, sighing.

"We dated for 2 years back in university..." shuffling through papers, you refuse to meet his eye. "Met in the library because I was being 'more annoying than the librarians squeaky heels'-"

"I said distracting," Sherlock counters.

"Sounded like annoying," typing on your phone a little, you did a quick research in... MI6's little filing system. "Also, how is it Mikey is still unable to upgrade the MI6 security?" The boys snap their heads up to you. "You're the boyfriend right? Tell him considering he won't listen to William," You look to Lestrade.

"How... did you-"

"Just because I'm in a band doesn't mean I'm an idiot,"

"You can deduce?" John laughs in disbelief.

"He taught me how to deduce and taught him how to play the violin, he was really shit," you laugh as he rolls his eyes. "You really were, let's be honest. He even vowed to never play ever again,"

John and Lestrade look to each other in shock as Sherlock stands up. "Can you help-"

"Which is odd because you have sheet music there and..." reaching under the chair you pull out the Stradivarius. "A very expensive and rare piece," tuning the strings a little, you start to pluck smugly, "right here."

"Give me that," he takes it off you harshly. "Can you help?"

"Why should I? You always need me for something, don't you?" Boots hit the floor with a slam as you stood to meet his height best you could. "You needed a distraction for two years, a little heart to play with until you got bored,"

"I didn't mean to- I didn't play with your heart-"

"Really? So why did you say that I was nothing but a game? Something to ease your mind from stress??" Grabbing a pen and paper, you scribble down your clue for his little case and crumple it up, shoving it into his chest. "You say 'I love you' so well, I believed it for so long,"

"I do love you," he blurts out making you laugh pitifully.

"And I almost believe you," bag strap in your hand, you sling it over your shoulder. "Neon Paints is the most exclusive lounge for elite singers. I sent Mycroft the right file, but if you ever contact me again I'll do worse than write some stupid love song,"

Sherlock watched as you left quickly, his heart shattering instantly, regret lacing his every being until tears slipped down his face yet every feature stayed stoic per-usual.

~~~

Wowie

- Anna ❤️