[CONTAINS SMUT!] ❗️18+❗️
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Being the youngest Holmes was always quite the journey, especially when you didn't want to show off your talents, maybe even lack of such. Compared to your brothers you were always the 'dumb' one. The teachers saw it, yo...
"Don't hang up, dear," Moriarty asks- no, scratch that, it was more so a demand.
"Why? Can't you hear?"
"I can, but I do enjoy talking to you," pursing your lips at his comments to hold back a small smile, you flop on the couch, turning on the TV.
"Back with Avengers again?" Sherlock groans.
"Thor: Dark world," John corrects.
"And this is why I love you more, John," you suck in your cheeks and air kiss him with a loud 'muah'. Moriarty laughs lightly on the other end of the line.
"Who are you calling?" Sherlock acknowledges the missing flat phone.
"Anna, she's away from the phone for a while." you state plainly for Sherlock, he hardly knew Anna and didn't care to know more than he needed.
"I don't... get it," John mumbles at the telly. "He's the villain right?"
"Eh," you tilt your head from side to side. "Loki is, well, Loki, he does his own thing,"
"He kills people right?"
"80 people in two days, but to be fair he was controlled by Thanos, and he does do things for his own gain, plus he's faked his death a few times and ignores the fact that Thor mourned him-"
"And the appeal is? He looks greasy," Sherlock quips making you throw a pen at him. "Hey!"
"Don't call him greasy, Will,"
"Don't call me Will, now answer my question,"
"I am not talking about this with my brother," Sherlock walks away and points to John.
"Answer the question, Y/n," John smirks when Sherlock closed the kitchen doors.
Grinning internally you shrug and kick your legs up, "I'm a slut-"
"Y/N!" They shout as you topple over and drop the phone, laughing uncontrollably.
"I didn't even finish my sentence!" You cough between endless laughs. "My cheeks hurt," your massage them softly and look to Sherlock. "I was going to say I'm a slut for character development but alright,"
"You will be the death of me," holding the phone back to your ear, you heard Moriarty let out an utterly amused laugh.
"I'm glad you thought it was funny," hopefully he could hear your smile.
"I did," he hums, but evidently the volume was too low for the boys to hear.
"Anywhere near finding it?"
"No, he did look around the kitchen but ended up looking like a lost puppy, darling, you may win this game,"
"I didn't know it was a competition," Sherlock and John look to each other, wondering what you were talking with 'Anna' about.
"It would be so boring," He dragged out the 'o' in 'so'. "If I win I want you to get a coffee with me,"
"I don't drink coffee, but if I win I want 20 Quid," This caught Sherlock's attention completely.
"I'll make it tea and add two zeros at the end of your condition,"
"Minus those two zero's, I don't need that, and it's not like you'd win,"
"So tea?" he sounded hopeful, your eyes watching Sherlock retreat to the kitchen.
"Nope, rules are rules," you quip back, almost hearing his frown on the other end.
"Rules are made for breaking, darling," Moriarty sighs with a slight husk. "And I adore your gift, Sebastian is putting it on my wall right now... I'm flattered you remembered my eyes so well,"
"Shut up, I have photographic memory," each inch of your face was a molten temperature.
"That's not Anna is it?" John was the first to speak, holding his hand out for you to give the phone.
"It is, so go away," you curl into the couch with your blanket draped over now. Sherlock emerged from the kitchen with a camera in hand.
"It's not," Sherlock being Sherlock was able to snatch the phone as you yelled in protest. "Who is this?"
"Sherlock!" You whine out.
"Hello, Virgin~" Moriarty's voice was louder once Sherlock put him on speaker. The boys snap their eyes to you, "well, this does mean I win, darling,"
Sherlock's grip tightened on the phone as you stood. "But I declined your offer, so it was a meaningless win, Moriarty,"
"Shame, oh well! Do have fun finding the other camera, Ciao!" The line went silent as Sherlock smashed the phone against the wall making you flinch.
"I'll end him! Calling my little sister darling!" Sherlock paced as John tried to calm him. He then looks to you, "Don't call him again,"
"He called me," you correct and clean up the now broken phone.
"Why?" This made you stop your process, "Who came to collect the gift, N/n?"
"A man called Sebastian Moran-"
"Moriarty's right hand man..." Sherlock writes frantically on a piece of paper before pinning it on a hidden board behind the couch. "What did he look like?"
"Blonde, stubble, 6'4", muscular build, size 9 shoes, Military training,"
"Good job, N/n," Sherlock pats your back and hands you two pieces of paper and a set of pencils. "You're an artist, draw him,"
Huffing out in anger, you draw a stick figure and toss it back. He glares at you with a look that wasn't in the mood for games. "Fine,"
~~~
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