Sherlock Imagines

My Bestfriend (SherlockxReader, Platonic) (Jimlock) (MoranxReader)

Prompt: 14 (Platonic Roommates AU)
Character: Sherlock, hints of Sebastian involved (?)
Requested by: @ZoeyP03
A/N: Apologies, I couldn't help myself XP

The flat, as always, was an utter mess. Somehow, Sherlock's skull was on your laptop, he had files strewn about and bullets basking on the hard wood of the sitting room, and for some reason, your textbooks were placed carefully into the shape of Phi. For a moment, you stood there, eyes blown wide with utter shock, mouth hanging open while the smooth melodious notes of Sherlock's violin filled the area around you.
"Don't leave you mouth hang, Darling—you'll catch flies." Jim said as he passed you, coat draped elegantly over his arm. He patted your head like he would a puppy's, then was on his way. Sherlock snickered at the comment, ceasing his playing.
You could deal with a messy flat. You could deal with Sherlock's obsessive playing, and bloody limbs propped against your tupperware. You could deal with psychopathic lovers treating you like a pet. But you would not stand for Sherlock laughing at your humiliation!
"No. That's it." You seethed, storming up the stairs to your room. Sherlock's brow pulled confusedly together as you disappeared to gather your belongings.
"Y/n-" He began before the word froze in his throat, watching you carry two of your biggest cases down, steam practically flowing through your ears.
"What're you doing." He said quickly, sincere confusion in his voice as he pushed the sick feeling down.
"I'm out of here. I can put up a lot from you, but that's the final straw." You hissed before heading for the door, slamming it on your way out. Leaving your words echoing through Sherlock's head as the room vibrated from the force. He quickly scanned the room, as if he'd suddenly find that it was gone, that he was simply dreaming and this wasn't real.
You were one of his closest friends. Even when John had cut him off for falling for Jim; you'd stood by him. Respected his decisions and keeping him on his toes. He never thought—

It was cold out, colder than you'd thought it had been. Still, you marched on, refusing to return to the flat, tears forming puddles at the corners of our eyes. To make matters worse, you could see shadows coming across the London streets as dark clouds moved in over head. Not half an hour later, thick droplets of icy rain began to fall, freezing you down to your core. You were about to turn into a café when an expensive looking car pulled up beside you, the window rolling down.
"Y/n-? Sherlock's flatmate, right..?" A blonde man asked through the window, a hint of worry in his voice. You checked your surroundings quickly, a bunch of nerves swelling in your stomach.
You were about to turn away, when you heard, "Sorry—I'm a mate of Jim's, I didn't mean to freak you ou' or anything—I just saw you and got a bit worried."
"Oh..." You sighed in relief, approaching the window, still a tad skeptical, "Yeah, sorry, uh...I am, well...was. We got into a bit of a row." It wasn't a complete lie.
"Oh, Christ. Hey, uh...how about I give you a ride to somewhere not so...wet?" He asked awkwardly, causing you to chuckle softly. You nodded, climbing in.
"Sorry about the wate-"
"Don't worry about it. It's Jim's car, not mine, and he's being an arsehole at the moment, so he deserves it." You snorted, cracking up.
"He isn't always?" He laughed in return, pulling away from the curb, your cases being awkwardly moved into the back seat.
"Depends on who you are to him." He said, his laughter slowly dying down, but his amusement holding steadfastly.
"I guess that's how Sherlock is, too..." You laughed softly, albeit sadly. He looked over to you, a tad concerned.
"Hey...you alright..?" He said quietly, pulling up to Jim and his place.
"Y-Yeah—Fine, just...I don't think Sherlock and I have ever fought...and I just ditched him over one little thing?" Your voice came out in a whisper, cracking slightly as you realized what you did.
"Hey, now—people like Sherlock and Jim can be cocks, and we'll get pissed at them sometimes, but the great part is, they'd do anything for us. And us, them," He smiled faintly at you, "especially Sherlock for you. Could anyone blame him, though? I mean, with a flatmate as attractive as you?" He flirted playfully, the comment still making your face burn red.
"Thanks..." He smiled charmingly.
"Well, while I don't mind having you over, do you want me to take you back to Baker Street?" You giggled, nodding gently. He drove you back to your home, making passing commentary. Much of the way you were laughing, having a generally good time. By the time you were home, you almost felt heartbroken that the night had to end...

When you got back to your flat, you found Sherlock beside himself with worry, panicked about his best friend. The moment his eyes fell on you, he scooped you into his arms, looking nearly ready to cry. You expected a reprimanding or something akin to it, but all you got were two, so-quiet-you-can-barely-hear-it words...
"I'm sorry."