Can I Have The Prompt 3 Stay With Me With Moriarty Please ? Thanks For Your Hard Work You Are My Fav

Can I have the prompt 3 ‘Stay with me” with Moriarty please ? 😍 thanks for your hard work you are my fav writer ? ❤️

Thank you for your sweet words, I did my best

Rating: G

Category: F/M

Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)

Relationship: Jim Moriarty/Female Reader

Tags: Imagine, Fake Suicide, Fix-It, Sherlock And Moriarty Need Some Help

Words: 1845

Notes: I’m not a native, please, forgive my mistakes. Gif is not mine. I hope you’ll enjoy it

“What the… Ok, could you repeat it more calmly, please?”

The two supposedly geniuses facing Y/N shared a sorry look. They seemed to think the explanations they were giving were the simplest thing in the world, really. Y/N wasn’t stupid, she should be able to understand. Bringing his hands to his temples, Moriarty started again, slower:

“Sherlock and I are not enemies anymore.”

The Detective enchained:

“Jim explained me I had been rigged by my sister…”

“What? You have a sister?”

Sherlock looked at Y/N, puzzled.

“Y… Yes! But it’s a too long story to be told right now. As I said, Jim had been manipulated by my sister to commit all these crimes and…”

“So, there is a purpose to all of this, finally?”

“Could you, please, stop to interrupt me and listen to the explanations you asked for?”

“Sorry.”

“Well. What… What was I saying?”

Moriarty looked positively ready to burst.

“You were saying we’re not enemies anymore because your crazy sister forced me to be a monster.”

“Exact. So, Y/N, Moriarty isn’t really the monster, you see? I have to help him.”

Y/N was very sceptic but, well… Maybe the rest of this explanation would be more convincing…

“And how will you do that?”

“With your help.”

Of course. Y/N wasn’t even surprised, she wouldn’t be standing on the rooftop of Saint-Barts Hospital, stuck between a consulting Detective and a consulting criminal who had deadly played cat and mouse for months if her help wasn’t needed. But, how she would extract these two jerks out of this mess, that still was a mystery.

“So, you suppose me to believe you when you say this man isn’t a dangerous psychopath, because your unknown sister is the dangerous psychopath, and you want me to help you. Tell me, how can I help you? Do you want me to miracle you both away? Preferably far, far away from here, where both of you won’t be such a pain in the ass? On the Moon, maybe?”

“No.”

“It’s simpler than that.”

How can one be as clever as them and don’t understand sarcasm… Another mystery.

“I do hope so!”

“I will phone to John…”

That’s a first bad idea.

“… And make him believe I will jump from the roof…”

That’s so much a bad idea…

“… Because Moriarty forced me to, otherwise, he would kill all the people I care for.”

At that, Y/N throw an outraged glare to the criminal, who started to fumble

“That’s how the plan was supposed to go…”

And that was supposed to excuse everything, of course!

Sherlock resumed his explanations:

“But, before that, he was supposed to kill himself…”

Ah.

“… Since it’s the stupidest idea I never heard in my whole life, we will stop all these nonsenses and do it my way.”

Here, Y/N agreed with Sherlock. How all of this was presupposed to work?

Then, the curly genius turned to his new not-enemy and conversationally asked:

“Are you sure this sister you’re talking about is really this genial?”

Moriarty answered, with a disgusted shudder and a horrified face:

“She is. She is… Horrible…”

There was a moment of hesitation. Then Sherlock spoke again:

“Ok. So, I will shoot in the air to be sure the gunfire is well heard, Jim will scrunch in a pill of faked blood and lie over there.”

For more emphasis, he gestured to a part of the roof.

“I will call John, tell him that all of what Moriarty said was true, then I’ll jump of the roof, then…”

“Excuse me?!”

Obviously upset by being interrupted once more, Sherlock snapped:

“What is it this time?!”

Was he really serious?

“Well, where should I begin? How do you want to make doctors believe he’s dead while he’s not? I know you find them stupid, but they’re not this stupid. Why do you want to tell John you’re really an impostor? Why the f*ck do you want to jump off this bloody roof? And how am I supposed to help you in this madness?!”

Sherlock could have been upset if hadn’t been as happy to show off, even in a moment like this.

“Doctors will believe Jim, here, is dead, because, just before scrunching in a pill of fake blood, he will take another medicine made from rhododendron – I did it myself, don’t forget I’m a chemist – which will slow his pulse until it’ll be undetectable during a good hour. Then, when he will be declared dead, Molly will take care of his “corpse” and help him to escape the morgue. I want John to believe I’m an impostor because I need him to play the game, people must believe Jim and I are really dead, or he will be in a great danger. If I explain him all the plan, I know him, he will jeopardize everything. So: I’m an impostor who killed the man who had made discover the trickery and I committed suicide, according to my sister’s plan. He will be sad… Maybe. But I know someone who will make sure my honour will be restored afterwards. I need your help to exfiltrate Jim from London once he will be out of the morgue. Is this all right?”

There were no words to tell at what point this wasn’t all right! But it seemed Sherlock had been tired of giving explanations because he answered a “All right” at his own question before squeezing Y/N’s shoulder, then Moriarty’s hand, shooting in the air and… Jumping off the roof. All of this in something like a minute. Maybe one and a half. Panicked, Y/N was rushing towards the edge of the roof to see if Sherlock had really been able to challenge the laws of physics when she heard a loud thud behind her. Moriarty, covered with fake blood, had just swallow the rhododendron-of-death pill. The only thing the two lunatics had forgotten to tell her was what the hell she was supposed to do right now! Since she didn’t want to be caught on this roof with a corpse (even a fake one), Y/N decided to go down the stairs as quickly as she could and to hide in the morgue with Molly waiting for her hour. Waiting for everybody except Molly goes out, hiding Moriarty in a mortuary bag, bringing him to the basement, then driving the car as near as I’ll be able to, shoving him in the passenger seat, making a detour by a clothing shop and then… Then…

Y/N didn’t know why she was doing all of this. She didn’t owe anything to Sherlock, they were barely friends, not to mention Moriarty. However, Y/N was oddly happy to know the criminal wasn’t the one he pretended to be, strangely willing to believe there was, at least, a sparkle of humanity within him; maybe more. No one could become this cruel for not apparent reason. There must be a story, a wound somewhere to explain all of it. There must be something to fix, something to listen to, something to understand. Understanding… How most people were ready to judge and condemn before even trying to understand, to put themselves in the place of the person in front of them, was scary. That was a shame. And Y/N didn’t want to be part of these silly people. That’s why she had decided to help the criminal.

Two hours after having lived the weirdest moment of her life, Y/N was welcoming Moriarty in her car: so far, so good. After a stop to a shop to buy some decent clothes to the man, she was quietly driving them both to the address he had given her when he interrupted her thoughts:

“Are you scared of me?”

Y/N take advantage of a red traffic light to turn to examine the man. There was definitely nothing to be scared of.

“No.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Neither.”

“Why are you doing this, then?”

Y/N let out a sight.

“Because I won’t be able to trust you until I give you a chance. Because Sherlock seems to trust you… In his own way. Because I couldn’t let you die for real in the morgue? But if you’re not ok with that, you still can get out of my car. I’m rather tired.”

That was maybe a little harsh. But it hadn’t be a good day and Y/N was sure the criminal had heard and said worse.

“I like you.”

That was unexpected, to say the least. Blushing slightly, Y/N stayed focused on the road and groaned a little:

“Much better for you…”

When they arrived at their destination, Y/N was ready to leave as soon as Moriarty would be out of her car. Another surprise came when, instead of leaving, he started to fidget with his hands and throw a look of frightened Bambi to her. Well… Next time Y/N will step on another dimension, she would be thankful to someone to inform her.

“What is it?”

The words came far less roughly from her mouth than before.

“I… Hum… Stay with me. Please?”

There were countless good reasons to say “no”. Countless. The answer was already on the tip of her tongue when she remembered why she was here. It would be difficult to help him without talking to him, without opening up to him, at least a little.

“Eh… If you want to beat me to death, let me get out the car first, or your seats will be all ruined…”

A chuckle escaped from Y/N lips.

“It looks like your methods, not mine.”

Well, that wasn’t something very friendly to say to a frightened Bambi…

“I don’t know your methods, maybe you’re worse than me? You do understand I’m on the car of a perfect stranger, all at your mercy? I’m the victim there!”

But frightened Bambi wouldn’t make jokes, would he?

“If you’re a victim, I’m a mermaid… And if you answer I am one because I’m half woman, half tuna, I will forget about the state of my seats, I warn you!”

“I never would say a thing as rude as that. Especially not to someone who’s helping me. Especially, especially not to a pretty woman like you. You’re really a mermaid, though, half woman, half goddess…”

Was he… Was he flirting? When he answered to the disbelieving look on Y/N’s face by a wink, she had been sure about it. James Moriarty was flirting with her. And she didn’t hate it…

“Ok, I’ll stay with you a little. But just because I need a cup of coffee to stay up, don’t even think about anything else!”

“If it’s what you want to believe, beauty, that’s ok.”

Another blush made his way to Y/N’s cheeks. That had been a hell of a day, sure, but maybe it wasn’t the weird end of a strange story; maybe it was the very beginning of another far sweeter one.

***

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Living with Jim Moriarty Would Include

Requested by two anons! (Seriously though I live for these little platonic things.)

Yourself and Jim would have been friends for a long time so when he got bored of most other people he would have called you up, afterall, he didn’t find you too tedious.

Unfortunately to keep himself (and you) safe, you weren’t allowed to actually know where you two lived exactly. This made it quite awkward when you wanted to order things off Amazon. Jim would end up paying for a PO Box for you so you could get “little treats”.

Dancing to loud music in your shared flat. Jim takes your hands and twirls you around, mouthing along to the song while you laugh. 

Sherlock would work out Jim had a flat-mate from all the little hints he dropped. This would completely confuse Sherlock but he could never find out who you were. “They’re no one Sherlock. Well, no one to you, they are a lot to me.”

Jim would often rant to you about his day. “But how can they be so stupid? It’s painful.”

Running one of his phones. You text quite a few people from this phone (usually while Jim cooks dinner - sometimes he likes to “play domestic”)

He would actually cook for you a lot, when he had time.

Sherlock would realise it was you running that phone (even though he’s never actually met you) and you would tease him with little games. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself playing along, even though he knew it was pointless.

Jim would make sure no one ever got to you. You were his top security priority.

Jim would call you his “live-in” or “pet”.

He would joke that you and John should get along well but you just roll your eyes and tell Jim that you’re not his blogger.

Jim offers to run your blog but you laugh and tell him no.

He would often test his little plans by you first.

Using other people to talk for him would have been your idea (even if you had meant it as a joke).

He wanted to test it out by speaking for you when you go on a date, you tell him no and make him go on the date instead. He comes back an hour later with lipstick all over his face, “I hate you.”

Going on “dates” to the art gallery, the pool, the hospital. “(Y/n)!” Jim sings, “Come out for a date with me!” “A date?” “Yes of course. Not really. I need to scout out the location. Come come.”

Buying him a tiara.  He wears it.

Playing chess. But not proper chess. You play it together as if it’s a real battle, just charging all the pieces together, with dramatic audio from you and Jim in silly voices.

Jim sometimes sleeping next to you in bed because your breathing helps him think. 

“No one will ever get to you. Not Holmes, not Watson. No one.”

Related to: Living With Sherlock Would Involve Masterlist

Newcomer

Summary: When a letter arrives at the wrong address and a mysterious boy joins your class, how will that work out?

Characters/Pairings: teen!Loki x teen!YN

Warnings: weird neighbor

YN turned around the letter that just arrived, completely confused.

“To Loki Odinson, house number twelve.”

Odinson. As far as she knew, the Odinson family had recently moved to her neighborhood with their youngest son. The older two stayed behind, a decision they were able to make on their own since they were adults already. But their house number was 21, not 12

“From Thor Odinson. Well, Thor, I guess you mixed up the numbers”, she mumbled under her breath, casually tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She knew she should bring the letter over to the right house, she really didn’t feel like doing so, though, especially since she found the father to be rather intimidating.

Keep reading

# 47 ‘You’re seriously like a man-child’ with Moriarty please 😍❤️ you are my favourite writer on tumblr thank you for your hard work ❤️

Awww thank you! It really moves me, I’ll do my best

Rating: G

Category: F/M

Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)

Relationship: Jim Moriarty/Female Reader

Tags: Imagine, Headcanon, Moriarty is alive, Moriarty needs a hug, childish, humor.

Words: 458

Notes: I’m not a native, please, forgive my mistakes. Gif is not mine. I hope you’ll enjoy it

You had met Moriarty a few months ago. At first, he had alleged to be Richard Brook, an actor or that kind of sh*t, but you weren’t stupid. When you had started to understand the situation, you had asked for the truth, and faster than that, please. Now! He had had no choice but to confess everything. This was the first time you said him you loved him. Yes, you loved him, why wouldn’t you? He had been manipulated by a crazy woman who, herself, had been locked up in a high security prison since she was five years old, in what alternative universe this situation could end well? In yours; love is stronger than everything, remember? All right.

So, this is how you had ended up at 221b Baker Street, when Sherlock Holmes came back from the dead. No, no, Jim hadn’t killed himself, he wouldn’t have dared, the fool! He was kindly waiting for you at home while you were gone to meet his best enemy to try to convince him Jim wasn’t a monster. Easy peasy. No problem.

No, no, it wasn’t sarcasm, you had managed to convince him surprinsigly easily, it was to believe the Detective already knew Jim just needed a hug and a big lecture. And he agreed to meet him without trying to kill him or calling Scotland Yard. As well, Jim had agreed to go apologizing without doing something as stupid as dangerous, and you would be there to make sure they both kept their promises. They should better. But… Well, there’s always a “but” isn’t it? Twenty minutes before the meeting, Jim was sitting in your sofa, refusing to move.

“Jim… Get up, please.”

“No.”

“Jim, get the f*ck up or you will be in big trouble, you jackass!”

“N.O.P.E.”

“For God sake! You’re seriously like a man-child! Move immediately your arse from this f*cking sofa or I’ll make you and it will be really unepleasant!”

The greatest evil mastermind of his century looked up to you, he was just a scared puppy right now.

“Y/N, I’m… I’m afraid… What if Sherlock doesn’t believe me? What about Eurus? What about my crimes?”

Well, you were really head over heels, to be honest. How could you resist to this? How? You couldn’t. So you sat up next to him and said:

“Everything will be all right my love, Sherlock Holmes may be a lot of things, but he’s not a traitor. He will keep his promises. I’ll make him if I have to. now, come with me, come start a new life.”

With that, he took your hand and smiled to you, getting up. You see, cometimes, even geniuses need to be comforted.

***

Thanks for reading

➳ To read more

➳ To make a request

➳ To know what I’m currently writing