SherlockxReader One Shots/Imagines/preferences REQUESTS CLOSED!!

SherlockxReader: Some Fun While Being High

A/N: Happy Tuesday everyone! We all know Tuesday is better than Monday, so here's a One Shot.

Thank you to LaizyAlpaca for requesting #15, #17, #32, #37, #34,  & #30

#15: "Just so we are clear, you didn't stab this person."

#17: "I can't believe anyone around here still tolerates you." "It's not like they can kick me out. I'm the only one who lives here."

#32: "Did you just smell my hair?" "...no?"

#37: "You say the strangest things. One would think you're not from this time period."

#34: "I don't know whether I should be scared or turned on right now."

#30: "I'm too sober for this."

Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mention of blood, high Sherlock

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You tapped your foot repeatedly in a way that made up a tune. You needed a distraction, for the man you, Lestrade, and your famous flatmate, Sherlock Holmes, were interrogating was, in a word, disgusting. His rotten banana peel hair was unkempt and greasy and his skin sagged like a potato sack. Worst of all was his eyes; scornful and full of a dull fire of pathetic mayhem.

You didn't like him one bit.

Even the bloody body was a better sight than the disgusting man. But you listened carefully to what he had to say.

"What were you doing last night between ten and eleven?" Lestrade asked, his nose scrunched up at the greasy haired man man. The man didn't seem to notice his disgust.

"I was out at the pub on a date with this lady I'd met online," he said, scratching the back of his head. Maybe he had lice...you scored a little further back from the man.

"And when did you find the body?"

"When I came 'ome. It was around one or so and I was a little drunk. He was a little ways up the hall, but I couldn't see real well. I tripped over 'im on the way to my room."

"Alright..." Lestrade said, jotting down something on his notepad. "And just to be clear, you didn't stab this man?"

"Why would I 'ave? He's my landlord, not my ex wife." He eyed you up and down. "Speakin' of wives..."

You scowled at him. "You're a terrible person. I can't believe anyone around here still tolerates you."

"It's not like they can kick me out. I'm the only one who lives 'ere."

You were going to shoot back with a brilliant insult, but Lestrade stepped in before you had the chance. "Thank you for your time, Mr Gronks."

The three of you left the dirty man behind, practically jogging to get away. You fumed while trying to calm yourself down. How DARE he...

You noticed Sherlock was unusually silent. "Sherlock? Why are you so quiet?"

"Hm?" He replied, apparently coming back to the real world. "Oh, yes. Sorry. Solved the case. Harold Gronks owed a lot of rent to his landlord and killed him to get rid of it. Plain and simple."