Sherlock Imagines

I Hate You, I Love You😠😍Sherlock X Reader

A/N- This imagine is not based on the song by Gnash. I simply thought the title was fitting for this imagine. Now, onto the imagine...

Working in the morgue with Molly Hooper was not all it sounded to be. First of all, the job was quite simple, until Sherlock Holmes came in and wrecked your world. Literally. Sherlock liked to experiment on the body parts of the deceased, and, in order to get them, you and Molly had to supply them.

No, you didn't kill innocent people; you took body parts from the deceased after performing an autopsy. If anyone found out about this, you could be sued, or worse, fired.

Sherlock also liked to use poor, innocent Molly to get access to files, bodies, and equipment. That pissed you off. He knew that she had a shoolgirl crush on him, and he used that to his advantage. The only time he had anything to do with Molly was when he needed something; you didn't help him unless he did somethng for you in return.

Sherlock knew Molly would give him whatever he needed, because she would do anything for him. You, on the other hand, were quite the opposite.

With that being said, today was the same as usual, except Molly wasn't there; she caught the flu. Sherlock wanted some toes and a few eyeballs.

You simply sighed and said, "Molly's sick, and if you want your body parts, you have to repay me somehow." Sherlock groaned. "Why must you be so difficult? I need them," he said. You rolled your eyes. "Then find a way to repay me and I will get your body parts to you," you said.

Sherlock stormed out of the morgue, a scowl on his face. You sighed. With a mind like his, you would think that he would remember that he had to do something for you if he wanted those body parts so badly.

A few minutes later, the doors to the morgue flew open and Sherlock Holmes stood there, a bouquet of red roses in hand. You raised an eyebrow at this. He was panting heavily, as if he ran to a flower shop and back; you wouldn't doubt if he'd actually one this.

He regained composure rather quickly, and took a long stride by your side. "For you. Now may I have the body parts?" He asked. You smiled softly. "I hate you, you know?" You asked. He smiled. "I love you," he said. Your smile turned into a thin line, as love is an uncharacteristic trait of Sherlock Holmes.

You furrowed your brows. "Don't you think you're taking this further than you should; I'm already going to give you the body parts," you asked. His smile faltered. "Isn't that how you say it? Don't you tell people that you can't stop thnking about that you love them?" He asked.

"So, this isn't just to get the body parts?" You asked. "No. Not just for the body parts. I've been meaning to tell you for a few days now, I just had to find the right time," he said. "So, do you feel the same way or was all of the confessing for nothing?" He asked. You smile slightly.

"Believe me, it wasn't for nothing."