Supermerwholock One Shots

Sherlock X Reader - A Study in Love and Hate

AU where instead of John, Sherlock shares an apartment with you.

"He hates me... I swear he does... Mycroft, how do I gain the affection of him?... I know that you can help me... Yes, you're his brother. If anyone can help me win the love of the great Sherlock Holmes, it's you... Yes, I can call back later," you sighed. "Bye, Mycroft." You waited for him to hang up.
Once he had, you went and sat in Sherlock's chair and sighed. You shared an apartment with the great detective, which - in essence - was like looking after a big toddler. At the moment, he was out working on one of his cases again. Or, at least, that's what he'd told you. You started to suspect that he invented cases just to get out of the apartment and away from you.
You sighed. You really, really liked him. You could rarely get him out of your mind. But he ignored you and avoided you as frequently as possible.
You heard the door open and shut downstairs. You were going to get out of his chair, but you couldn't be bothered.
"Hi, (y/n)," he breathed heavily, as he entered the living room. "How was your day?" He didn't seem bothered that you were in his seat, he just sat down in the seat opposite.
You sort of just stared at him. It occurred to you that you staring at him probably didn't help anything. You looked away from him, your cheeks starting to grow hotter as you realised that he was watching you. "Oh, umm... It was okay, I guess..." you mumbled, fumbling on your words as each word tried to get out at the exact same time as all of the rest. "How about your day?" you whispered, eventually, in an attempt to turn the attention away from you.
"Oh, I was helping Lestrade with another of his supposedly 'strange' cases. It was simple, really," he replied. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him smile to you. "You know, you really should join me on a case some time, (y/n)," he added, "I really think that they could be something that you would enjoy." He paused for a moment, obviously looking you up and down, before adding: "Plus, from how pale and lethargic you look, you could really do with leaving the apartment some time soon."
"Please, Sherlock," you whispered, feeling hotter than a supernova, "please don't psycho-analyse me."
You could practically feel him grow uncomfortable from the amount of silence in the room after you had spoken. It wasn't that you didn't like him using his natural gifts. You thought it was amazing that he could do that. It wasn't even really that you wanted him to stop analysing you. He couldn't help it, or turn it off, anyway. You just didn't want him to say what he found and suggest things you could do out loud, to your face.
If he even just took note of things while you were around him, then messaged suggestions to you afterwards, that would be fine. You just felt inadequate when he did that sort of thing right in front of you. That was another reason why you avoided going on cases with him.
"(y/n), I'm sorry if my automatic analysing makes you uncomfortable in any way," Sherlock started to explain.
"Sorry, Sherlock, I shouldn't have said that. It's not like you can control it..."
"... I never wanted you to feel..." he continued.
"... I overreacted..."
"... Uncomfortable, at all," he finished, looking at you, confused.
"... Please don't hate me," you replied via interjections. You looked at him, confused. "Wait, you...?"
"Why are you...?"
The two of you sat and looked at each other, catching up with what the other had said while you had both been speaking.
"(y/n), do you think that I...?" Sherlock started. Before he could continue, you phone rang. Picking up your phone and answering it, you uncurled from Sherlock's chair and went to find somewhere more private for the phonecall.
"Ummm, hello?" you asked. "Oh, M, yes. Thanks for getting back to me... Yes, definitely around... Thank goodness you don't... Yes, back on topic... He does, I swear!... Honest!... Well, we sort of just... Yeah, really awkward..." And this was the side of your phonecall that Sherlock could barely hear.
You were talking once more to Mycroft. He had got back to you about your supposed Sherlock problem. Supposedly, Sherlock hated you.
Mycroft had been reluctantly taking your calls for days. He was starting to get bored as, each time, you would come to him with another theory of Sherlock hating your guts. Most of the time, it was the most trivial things. "Calm down, (y/n), you're being paranoid," he'd said to you, at one point.
This time, however, while you were on the phone, something happened. "(y/n)," Sherlock called from the living room.
You put your phone on hold and went to see what he wanted. "Yes, Sherlock?" you asked.
"Who were you talking to?"
"A friend," you replied, confused. You had a niggling feeling that he already knew everything.
"Were you talking about us?" You stood at the living room door and just watched him, unable to speak. "Well, seeing as you don't leave the apartment anymore and you just said about a conversation with someone, I'd say that you were talking about me and you."
"Yes," you whisper-sighed. "I was talking about us."
"(y/n), what were you saying to them?"
"Are you not bothered about who I was talking to?" you asked, for no reason apparent to yourself.
"Very, but I'm overlooking that and assuming an innocent friendship."
"Are you... No!... Sherlock, are you jealous?!" you exclaimed, surprised and a little excited. If he was jealous, then maybe... He didn't reply, but the look on his face told you everything. "You are! You're jealous!"
He looked away, finally feeling how you do when he analyses you. You hugged him, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Why are you crying and hugging me?" he asked.
"I... It was stupid of me... I know this now... But I thought. I thought you hated me!"
He hugged you back. "Oh (y/n), why would I hate you?" he asked. "How would I hate you?" he added, after a slight pause where he rubbed your hair with his hand.
You didn't reply, not wanting him to know. You had thought he'd hated you because that's how you thought that you deserved to be thought of. As the girl that everyone despised. But you didn't tell him that.
"Will you come on cases with me now?" he asked.

A/N ~ Hey, guys! At the end of the last update, I asked if you wanted part two publishing... Well, I will only publish it if I get 10+ separate comments from different accounts that people want a part two. I'm pointing out the exaggerated points because of a comment a friend made earlier. I will only publish it if it's what people want, which means at least 10 different people asking for a part two.
Sorry for the rant, and thanks for reading! I hope you are all happy (ish) and well (as can be expected, considering whatever you are facing). Remember, "you are not alone, we'll brave this storm" together. I love you all and wish you all the best until next time!