Enigma (sherlockxreader)

Dreams and Vodka

Sherlock

Laser lights and pounding loud music were the first things he noticed. He was in a club. What am I doing here? Is this a dream? Oh, it must be...

He was standing by the bar with a drink in hand. Where did this come from? Sherlock knew he can't drink too much, he was a bit of a light weight, not really much of a drinker.

Where's John? He looked around. Instead of finding John, he found himself staring at a woman on the dance floor. Swaying her hips, her hair loosly tossled.

She wore a dress that seems to be molded on her, a perfect fit. Silkly violet, he thought.

She had a unique approach from everyone. The way she effortlessly move, almost, had an animalistic aura. He felt so drawn to her. It was someone he was familiar with. A woman he met, a while ago...

The woman stop dancing, and turned her gaze to him. It was intense. Her eyes seems to glow, enhancing her feline aura.

(Firstname)....he whispered.

Her name felt like a fresh air, leaving him gasping for more. He felt the urge to go to her, because curiosity had him. He wanted to know how her skin would feel against his. How his hands would glide over her curves. How hot her breath would be against his neck.

Sherlock's head was full of erotic thoughts, all of them about her. His pants felt tighter. She made him so hard that it almost hurt.

It's just a dream, nothing can affect the reality. Sherlock took the risk. For it was never about the reality here, it was a risk to his heart. Having another reason to have sentiments isn't going to help.

He took a sip of the drink in his hand. Hmm, vodka. He thought as he placed the drink on the counter, making his way to her.

She just stood there, waiting for him. It felt like an eternity before he got to her.

They were now a few inches apart. Sherlock could sense desire coming from her. It was strong, but not as strong as his.

He boldly slid his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. Her perfume entered his nostrils, intoxicating him. She leaned closer to him, her warm breath tickling his neck.

"What are you doing here?" She whispered.

I don't know... It was true. He didn't like visiting places such as this. He have no idea how he got here.

"Nothing in particular..." He mumbled. "You, why are you here?"

"No reason. I just got a feeling you'd be here." She flashed a flirtatious smile before she crashed her lips to his.

He kissed back without any hesitation. His grip on her waist tightened as he explored her wet cavern. Her hand was pressing against his chest, crumpling his dress shirt.

The tension between their bodies were heating up. She forcefully pulled away, leaving them both panting.

"Funny thing..." She licked her lips. "I thought you don't do sentiments?"

"This is just...an experiment."

"Running away from the truth, eh? Keep calling it an experiment, because this whole thing is too absurd for you. You're becoming a bit predictable, Sherlock."

Sherlock scoffed. "This is all part of the game. There's no thrill if I keep you clueless."

"Whatever you say, Sherlock Holmes." She pushed him away. "You're boring me... I'm just going to find another playmate. Bye~"

She walked over to a tall, slightly muscular guy. They flirted for a few seconds then suddenly kissed each other.

The sight made Sherlock fumed with anger. There's something about the sight which made him feel uneasy. He mumbled something through his gritted teeth before making his way towards them.

How dare her? She kissed me! Now she's kissing him?! He tapped the stranger on the shoulder, interrupting their make out scene.

"What do ya want, mate?" The guy was clearly pissed. But Sherlock was even more pissed. Get. Your. Bloody. Hands. Off. Her.

He punched the guy hard, knocking him out cold. The crowd saw what happened, but quickly ignored it. (Firstname) was shocked. Her lips formed an "o", then it slowly changed into a smirk.

A gun shot was heard. Everybody started panicking, hysterical screaming were followed by people rushing to the exits.

(Firstname) looked down on her bleeding abdomen. Sherlock's eyes widened in shock. He immediately ran to her side, assisting her.

It was amazing how she kept calm at the moment. Sherlock felt anxious. He needed to know who shot her.

The wound is caused by a 9mm bullet, which means the one who shot her isn't that far. And he is clearly accurate.

He turned to see who shot her. It was-

"JOHN!!!" He screamed. Sherlock was awake now. Wide-eyed, sweating and panting heavily.

Mixture of emotions were swirling inside his head. What's happening? Why did John shoot her?

He stared at his white sheets. It was all a dream, he knew. Just a dream, nothing more... He drew large breaths to calm himself.

He looked at the digital clock on his bedside, it said; 3:24 am.

I've got to go back to sleep. He took one final glance around his room and went to sleep.