Sherlock Imagines {COMPLETED}

Sherlock: Unexpected

As per usual:
Y/N- your name
Y/L/N- your last name
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Your POV
Sherlock had been acting strangely for weeks now. Ever since you'd come back from your holiday to New Zealand he'd been subdued. John had no idea what was wrong and Sherlock certainly wasn't going to tell anyone. You arrived through the front door after a long day at work to hear gun shots in the living room.

"Not again." You sighed. "Oi! Sherlock! Pack it in, now!" The gun shots subsided almost instantly. You rubbed your head in frustration at another headache and made your way upstairs to greet your favourite high-functioning sociopath.

You stepped inside the flat and surveyed the wreckage. The wall opposite Sherlock had bullet holes peppered into the wallpaper, flakes of plaster crumbling onto the floor. Sherlock was slumped down in his chair, gun in hand. He looked up at you and rolled his eyes.
"Bored." You sighed at his childish behaviour and tiptoed around the rubbish tip to reach the kitchen. You stooped down to reach a cupboard and pulled out a dustpan and brush.
"You always are. Where's John?" He stood up and placed the gun down on the table next to him.
"Milk." He replied coolly.
"Why do we always seem to run out of milk. John might as well get our shopping online." Sherlock raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

Mrs Hudson came to the door of the flat and stared in horror at the wall.
"What have you done to my bloody wall?! This is going on the rent." Sherlock shrugged and sat back in his seat again.
"Doesn't matter, I'm not the one who pays it." You sucked in a sharp breath and glared at him. He caught your gaze and flinched at your expression. You shot him one last dirty look (not in that way ya pervs *just kidding*) and stormed into your bedroom. Sherlock watched you go with a guilty expression.

John arrived back to tension so thick it could be cut. He stared around at the room for a few minutes before turning his attention to Sherlock.
"Alright, what did you do?" Sherlock seemed almost surprised at his question, as though none of it was his fault.
"What do you mean?" John raised his arms in exasperation.
"Number one: you haven't been talking for three days and you decide to start now. Number two: Y/N is sitting in their bedroom because you've upset them. Number three: YOU'VE SHOT A BLOODY WALL!!!" Sherlock winced and stood up.
"Fine, I shall apologise." John nodded and sat down, turning on the telly.

You'd been watching them all this time, but when you heard Sherlock saying that he'd apologise to you, you had quickly closed the door as quietly as you could and sat down heavily on the bed. A few seconds later there was a knock at your door.
"Come in." You muttered quietly and Sherlock came in. You looked into his eyes and saw a mixture of guilt and worry. You sighed and patted a space on the bed next to you.
"Listen Y/N, I came to say that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said." You nodded quickly.
"It's fine, just don't say it again." Silence erupted over the room, raising the awkwardness levels even higher.

Suddenly without warning, Sherlock grabbed your chin in his hand and smashed his lips upon yours. You were extremely surprised but soon melted into it, allowing it to wash over you. Slowly, Sherlock leant back for air and looked down on you. You blushed.
"Well. That was er-unexpected." Sherlock smirked at you and leaned in once more.
"Trust me Y/N, there's a lot more where that came from."

A/N ayup beans? Cumberbitches? Group of people? I should probably think of a name (unless of course you have any suggestions, if so then you could comment below). Hope you enjoyed this imagine. Baiiiiiii-L