Yandere x readers

Yandere! Sherlock Holmes x Reader: I'll be whatever you want me to be.

It was in your nature to hate him, as it was in his to one up you. Being police was hard, even more so when you constantly get deprecated by a private detective who doesn't know when to stay out of other peoples business. After a talk with the army doctor who followed him about, you learned to hate him a bit less (which didn't mean much). As stated before, it was his nature and John had helped you understand that. You now understood that he needed this as much as you needed a cup of coffee right now. You wondered how Lestrade could even put up with him, or the army doctor who lived with the man. The pity you had for their souls.

Maybe an energy drink would be more fit right now, actually. Whatever with the highest caffeine contents. Sherlock was explaining something about the murder, and at this point you just assumed he'd already solved it so you didn't bother continuing to work. You simply stood there, wishing you had coffee so you could stay awake during his theatrical and boring speech. You must have been zoning out, cause you jumped half a meter when a pair of fingers snapped right in front of your face. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" You asked Sherlock, ready to get violent if it was not for the presence of Lestrade.

"You of all people should be listening, officer. You could learn a thing or two about solving crimes." You wondered if he knew he was being condescending, or if he just always sounded like that. There was a shared look between you and his companion doctor, and he just shrugged as an apology. Why was he only like this towards you? Sure, he was always a dick but you felt personally targeted as of recently. To be more precise, it started the first time you had a win. It had just been a normal case, where he had been a bit in over his head. Or maybe distracted. Either way you solved it first, and he had ticked off. Life had been rough since, to be honest.

Trying to not pummel Sherlock was not your forte, so while he was busy belittling Lestrade you snuck out of the police taped area to go get some coffee. As you left with the lovely caffeinated drink you were suddenly pulled into an alley, a hand being shoved over your mouth before you could scream. You were calmed to see it was Sherlock, but not thrilled. He removed his hand when he was sure you were calm enough not to scream. You were 5 seconds from just beating the shit out of him. "I seriously cannot stress how much I want to punch your face. What are you doing?" You asked, leaning in and pointing your finger at him for emphasis.

"You left during a very teaching moment. I was worried you were trying to stay stupid on purpose." You cringe. There's no way you're just going to stand there and listen to him, so you try and push past him. He just steps in front of you. Once again you try and side step him, and he does it again. You look up at him with seething rage. "Sherlock, you better fucking move or I am going to kill you." He lets out a brief laugh, looking around like he is in disbelief. "Why is this so much harder than I anticipated?"

You cock your head to the side, unsure what he is referring to. Sherlock would never admit to having trouble with anything, so you can't help but be slightly intrigued. "What are you talking about, Sherlock?" Even you are surprised at the kindness and patience in your voice. There's a silence, before he looks around again like he is searching for something. Or maybe just avoiding eye contact. "Do you hate me, officer?"

You're surprised at his question, and you're not sure you know what to answer. Do you hate him? And if you really do, is it something you should reveal? It's a heavy question, but with a lot of pent up anger you decide to be truthful. "Well, it's hard not to innit?" You ask, rhetorically. "Honestly, I didn't even think you'd care about my opinion on you." He seems to understand, as his eyes meet yours.

"I think I was being quite obvious." He says, and once again you're left confused. The way he talks always assumes that the opposite party knows or understands everything. It's hard to hold a conversation with him. "Obvious about what, Sherlock?" You ask. He looks at you like your stupid, or you grew a second head. You can't tell. It makes you frustrated, and you scrunch your eyebrows together trying to keep yourself calm. "I've been trying to court you."

You're both flabbergasted and angry. What does he think courting means!? Whoever put the idea in his brain that courting starts with verbally abusing someone, was going to get the shit beaten out of them by you personally. "How exactly do you think insulting someone every chance you get will make someone like you? Unbelievable." You try to walk past him again, but he grabs a hold of your shoulder and shoves you up against the alley wall, holding you in place.

"I was showing my dominance. A compatible partner should show themselves to be able to protect their mate. but..." He looks you over, and it makes you feel very uncomfortable. You might dislike Sherlock but you'd never felt unsafe in his presence. "You're more remarkable than what an average relationship calls for. I'll be your slave. If that's what you want. I can submit to you." Your mouth flies open, and you can't help but blush at the slightly sexual undertones in his words. You're not interested, but you're unsure how to approach this. The whole interaction has you walking on eggshells.

"No, Sherlock. You misunderstand," you begin, putting a hand on his chest and pushing a bit to create some distance. "It's nothing like that! The fact that you think you can just change your approach to a relationship and get a person to like you shows a lot about what you think a relationship is. I'm not interested." You push him a bit further, ready to leave the very unpleasant conversation behind. You almost feel bad as you look back at him. That is before he talks.

"You'll come around. After all, I'm the only one who could ever love you." You turn around, throwing your coffee to the ground and walking a bit closer, seething with rage. You've tried to be civil, but this is it. He has to be fucking with you, saying that after saying he was trying to court you. "I'm right. You have a bad attitude and your first response to everything is violence. You should have been falling at my feet for even being interested in you." His arrogance only fuels you further, despite proving his point if you actually try and beat him up. You can tell he's expecting you to stop as to not prove him right.

So you throw a good punch, hitting him straight in the face. "I don't care!" Is all you say as you leave the alley. Sherlock wiped down his face with his hands, trying to stop himself from smiling. Your touch was intoxicating, no matter what form it came in. One day he'd teach you to love him, but for now he was satisfied with your violence.