BBC Sherlock x Reader Oneshots

Moriarty x Reader: No

Dammit. You were stuck out in the rain again, and you were going to be late to work! London back at again with the ridiculous rain. You were so busy being pissed about the weather you didn't notice the dark silhouette edging closer to you. As you were wallowing in your own self-pity suddenly the figure reached out to you and tapped you on the shoulder playfully. You zipped around, and knowing a good bit about jiu-jitsu, you grabbed the arm that tapped you and sweeper the offender's legs out from underneath them. They ended up falling on their back, and you took the opportunity to twist the arm and ask in a quiet but deadly voice

"Who are you and what do you want?"

You tried to put all the ice you could muster in your words, and it worked. You sounded so cold the ice queen would be jealous. But to your surprise, the stranger merely laughed softly, then grew louder steadily. You took your chance to look at the person's features. You realized it was a male, and an attractive one at that. Why did they always have to be attractive?! You snapped yourself out of it and spoke again.

"Something amusing?"

You waited a bit and the voice finally responded. It was a lovely Irish accent. Dublin, you thought.

"No darling, you're just the first person to not cower in fear. I guess the fact that you couldn't see me because of the rain helps though."

"I wouldn't cower in fear at anyone I just met. For all I know you could be an overgrown 16 year old. Actually, scratch that, you're 5'8 you could just be a regular 16 year old. The average for an Irish male, Dublin specifically, is about 5'9 to 6'0. You just barely miss that quota. You clearly make a lot of money, Westwood suits aren't cheap, some people just waste money on them to prove a point, but you're smart, I can tell, you only spend money on things you can get without giving it a second thought. You don't make this money legally however, but you're not a mercenary, you're clearly not the type to do the work yourself, you aren't really the best built, but that doesn't fool me, you're a lot stronger than you look, and the look is important to you. You need to not appear threatening. You must be the one who sends out the mercenaries, but that's not a job. You don't seem like the conventional one though, so I assume you made it a job. You have time on your hands, that's evident from your level of personal grooming. It's not done to a professional level, so you didn't hire someone to do it for you, and did it yourself, but it's done quite well regardless. That's means you had time to it yourself. You're not happy about this extra time though, you're looking for proper entertainment. Oh! You're depressed too, but not in the traditional sense. Your depression causes you to attempt and find distractions. You're definitely psychotic, could tell that as soon as you started talking. Irish, Dublin, (obviously) but you've lived here for a while. A shame really, it's much nicer over there. You are also evidently confused right now. Anyone could get that one, though. Correct?

You said all of these things rapid-fire and kept making more observations as you went. The male you held in the same position appeared shocked. You realized he must have been uncomfortable, and with the confidence that you could defend yourself, you helped him up. He thanked you quietly, seemingly still confused. His expression slowly changed to a smirk though. Then he spoke with the lovely accent again.

"My, my, you're quite the analytical one, aren't 'cha darlin'? Well, ding ding ding! Everything was true. What do you do for your insignificant living? A scientist, I assume?"

You answered quickly.

"I'm not a scientist, I'm a cashier. Sort of a compliment though, you thinking I am, so thanks I guess."

"A cashier? Well, that won't do. Your skills could be put to much better use. Why don't you get in my car and we can talk about a new job for you?"

He said smoothly. You replied less than elegantly.

"Oh fuck no. I've seen gravity falls. There's not way I'm making a bad deal and accidentally selling my soul to the devil. Also, dude, stranger danger. This is the epitome of what's gonna get you killed. Also, from what I can observe, you're not going to hurt me, but I've been wrong before, and I already know your looks aren't threatening for a reason. I'm not taking that risk, thank you."

He chuckled. GOD WHY DID HE HAVE TO BE SO HOT. WHY WERE THE VILLAINS ALWAYS THE HOT ONES. LIKE SERIOUSLY, THE ONLY PEOPLE YOU CAN'T BE WITH ARE THE PEOPLE THAT ARE THE MOST ATTRACTIVE. FORBIDDEN FRUIT EAT YOUR HEART OUT.

"You also know I don't like getting my hands dirty and I wouldn't hurt you aimlessly. I do everything for a reason, no matter how insignificant the reason may be."

"Absolutely fucking not."

You said simply. You spoke again.

"How else do I say this? Not today satan, fuck this shit I'm out, go away, leave me alone, not happening. Get the memo- whatever your name is?"

"Jim."

He said casually

"Jim." You repeated. "Well, it's been lovely, but I have an actual, legal job I need to get to, so.. bye."

As you walked away, you heard Jim from behind you.

"Bye doll!"

And that was it.

Or so you thought.

A time skip of some years brought to you by Jim Moriarty's amazing floofy hair

You woke up, made yourself some tea, and walked over to your TV and turned it on. The program was interrupted by the news.

"And now, breaking news, a man known as Jim Moriarty broke in to the pentonville prison, the Bank of England, and the Crown Jewels all in one hour. He was taken in by the police for further questioning."

You spat out your tea as the TV showed footage of Jim Moriarty smiling at the camera as he got into a police car, and then waving at the camera and saying

"Hi (Y/N)!"

In that accent you loved. You didn't even tell him your name, and he knew. You decided you were going to visit him undercover as his fiancé in jail. You had some questions for him that needed to be answered, so you started to make a plan.

END

A/N: Don't worry, if you guys really want, I'll make a short follow-up chapter. Sorry about the hiatus. Love you all! See you!