James Moriarty X Reader - Tumblr Posts
Sherlock Master List
ABC PROMPTS (features Sherlock, Mycroft and Moriarty)
***Reader insert / x reader***
A is for A Chance Meeting (Fluff) - Headcanons
B is for Breaking and Entering (Humor and Fluff) - Headcanons and scenarios
C is for Catcall (Jealousy and fluff) - Headcanons and scenarios
D is for Deceitful Death (Angst) - Scenarios
E is for Epiphany (Fluff) - Headcanons
F is for Fever (Fluff) - Headcanons and scenarios
G is for Goodbye For Now (Melancholy) - Headcanons
H is for Homely life (Fluff) - Domestic headcanons
I is for Impressing You (Fluff) - Headcanons and scenarios
J is for Jealousy (Jealousy) - Headcanons
K is for Kicking Ass - Prompts
L is for Living Together (Fluff) - Headcanons and scenarios
M is for Marriage (Fluff) - Headcanons and scenarios
N is for Nightmare (Comfort) - Headcanons
O is for Opportunity of Parenthood (Fluff / Humor) - Headcanons
P is for Pregnancy (Fluff / Humor) - Headcanons
Q is for Quiet (Comfort) - Scenarios
R is for Requests - Headcanons: Arguments, Repetitive, Kissing
S is for Summer Vacation (Gen) - Headcanons
T is for Taken (Angst / Worrying) - Headcanons
U is for Umbrella (Fluff) - Scenario
V is for Very Bad Timing (Gen) - Scenario
W is for Waiting
X is for Xanthos (Gen) - Headcanons
Y is for Yandere (Horror) - Headcanons
Z is for Zero
Your internet died while you were doing research for one of Jim’s high end clients and you ran to the nearest cafe with wifi. Jim called you to ask where you were and you told him where you were.
JM: You’re conducting your research here?
[Y/N]: Internet at my place is dead.
JM: Well this is boring. I was going to take you out on a date.
[Y/N]: We’re already out. And our date will start as soon as i’m done hacking.
Jim nodded and stayed quiet while you focus on your work. A little later you looked over.
He looked so normal and innocent you cant help but take a picture.
The Great Game - Chapter 1 (Sherlock fic)
Pairing: Jim Moriarty x Reader (Reader with designated first name)
Author Note: I literally had no plans to start this fic until about 20 minutes ago and couldn’t stop the inspiration so here’s me joining the Sherlock fandom trashwagon! May be some proofreading errors since this was done on the fly. Chapter Summary: Moriarty invades your office with style CHAPTER 1
Oh I…I just died in your arms tonight…
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Partners in Crime
Pairing: Moriarty x Reader
Summary: Just some cute fluffy stuff after an evening of stealing something.
Warnings: Nothing, just fluffiness
Word Count: 607
A/N: I’m horrible at summaries in case you can’t tell… (GIF not mine.)
“Help!” I screamed. I could feel James Moriarty’s gun digging into my side. “He’s over he-” Moriarty clapped his other hand over my mouth as two security guards ran into the art gallery of the museum. They stopped when they realized that Moriarty had me at gunpoint.
He spoke up. “Don’t try to stop me, or I’ll shoot the girl. I don’t like getting my hands dirty. But I will if it’s necessary.”
I whimpered. “Please… Please listen to him. I don’t w-want to d-die. I-I was just making sure e-everything was in order before I left w-work!” Tears dripped down my face.
The guards froze.
“Now… Slowly put your guns on the floor and get on your knees, hands behind your heads,” Moriarty said from behind me. The two hesitated. “Now!” They jumped at his sudden loudness. “Or else you’ll never see the girl again.”
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Seven Nation Army (Moriarty X Reader)
Characters: Moriarty X Reader
Universe: Sherlock
Warnings: Shooting and violence
Request: moriarty x reader where just like moriarty’s song is I Want To Break Free, reader’s song is Seven Nation Army and he thinks its super sexy and bossy
“Hello Darling.” Moriarty’s smile grew when he heard your voice. He turned to see you dressed formally. “Ready to cause hell?” You asked him, making him smirk as he took your arm. Moriarty liked to have you at his side during transitions, even if you don’t speak or even pay attention.
The ride to the spot was rather quiet, which neither of you like. “How about a song?” Moriarty asked, handing you his phone. You smirked, scrolling through his music till you found your song.
Keep reading
Valentine’s Day Special: Moriarty x Reader
Lestrade logged on
Lestrade invited Sherlock
Sherlock logged on
Sherlock: Do you have a case for me yet?
Lestrade: There’s been an arson incident
Sherlock: I’ll take it
Lestrade: It’s just someone setting fire to a field
Sherlock: I’m bored.
Lestrade: I’m getting the details now
Lestrade: It’s a message
Lestrade: it says: I love you (Y/n) (L/n).
Sherlock: How many (Y/n) (L/n)’s can there be?
Sherlock: I don’t know any
Lestrade: Yes you do
Lestrade: I’ll invite her
Lestrade invited (Y/n)
Sherlock: I have no idea who this person is
Lestrade: They’re the one that slapped Anderson the first time you came to a crime scene
Sherlock: Ah yes!
Sherlock: They’re already in my good books
(Y/n) logged on
(Y/n): Hey Guys, what’s up?
Sherlock: Someone confessed their love for you by burning a field
(Y/n): Oh…
Lestrade: Sorry (Y/n)
(Y/n): Well then…
(Y/n): I don’t know what to do
Sherlock: I’ll be at the scene in a few minutes.
Sherlock logged off
Lestrade: How does he know where it is?
Lestrade: (Y/n), do you want to come see it?
(Y/n): Well, I kind of got invited out tonight
Lestrade: As a date?
Lestrade: On Valentine’s Day?
(Y/n): I think so
Lestrade: okay I’ll tell you if we find anything out
Lestrade logged off
(Y/n) invited Moriarty
Moriarty logged on
(Y/n): Did you set fire to a field?
Moriarty: Oh no, that wasn’t supposed to go off yet!
(Y/n): Jim!
Moriarty: I wanted to show how my love for you was burning inside
(Y/n): Aww
(Y/n): Can’t you just send me flowers?
Moriarty: That’s cliche
(Y/n): We don’t have to do Valentine’s Day, if you don’t want to…
Moriarty: For you I’ll do anything
Moriarty: even if it involves murder
(Y/n): I know
(Y/n): Just can we not set fire for things?
Moriarty: Well you’re not going to like what happens next…
(Y/n): Are you kidding me?
Moriarty: ….
(Y/n): Jim…
Moriarty: I’m joking!
(Y/n): ….
Moriarty: What did you get me?
Moriarty: For Valentines Day?
(Y/n): It’s a surprise
(Y/n): You’ll see it later
Moriarty: Oooooh, I’m looking forward to it.
Sherlock logged on
Sherlock: (Y/n)!
Moriarty: Uh Oh
Moriarty logged off
(Y/n): Ummmm
(Y/n): You didn’t see anything!
(Y/n) logged off
Sherlock: Fraternising with the enemy!
Sherlock invited (Y/n)
Sherlock: Great.
Sherlock invited (Y/n)
Sherlock: I’m officially taking you off of my good books
Sherlock logged off
…
Authors note: Happy Valentine’s Day Guys, I hope you had an enjoyable day!
His Queen
Summary: Y/n is a writer who is working on a new novel. Moriarty is one of her biggest fans. He decides to send her a special gift
Pairing: James Moriarty x fem!reader
Warning: possessive Moriarty
A/n: requested by anon. I have three other Sherlock fics to do this week so hopefully I’ll be able to do them as soon as possible. I had a lot of fun with this, hope you enjoy :)
He sat on his throne as if it was made for him. As if he was a God and everyone else was below him, a pawn in his little game. He smirked to himself.
“Is there anything you require your highness?” a maiden asked from below him.
“Right now, a queen.”
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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.
***
Thank you for reading
➳ To read more
➳ To make a request
➳ To know what I’m currently writing
# 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
Darkness…pain…headache…dizziness….
That is what you see and feel when you slowly open up your eyes. Growning, you try to sit up, doing your best to recall the events of what feels a few hours ago. Sadly enough, the only thing you feel is a new wave of dizziness flowing through your sore body. Who are you again? Oh, right. You’re (y/n). But, where are you? Through your half-closed eyes, you see lights flashing on and out and a strange buzzing noise rings through the air. It almost sounds like…a motor?
‘‘Waking up already, pet?’‘
Startled by the sound of a man’s voice, you try to lift your head to take a look. There, in the drivers seet of what appears to be a car, sits a man. And not just a man, you realise as you take in his appearance: dark hair, light stubble, dark cold eyes and a light smirk that is forming on his face as he looks back at you.
‘‘Hold on a minute,’‘ you start as you try to ignore the pounding feeling in your head. ‘‘I know you.’‘
The man raises his eyebrows in almost a bored way.
‘‘Well, I would feel offended if you wouldn’t have.’‘
You ignore his remark. Instead, the events of a while back come flowing back at you. You remember wanting to get milk, but seeing no milk in the fridge and yelling at your brother Sherlock that you would go out to the supermarket. But after you had closed the door of 221B Bakerstreet behind you and had walked a few streets, you had suddenly felt a stinging pain on the back of your head followed by darkness and the voice of a man: ‘‘Don’t worry, pet. I’ve got you now…’‘
And now you were sitting in a car next to your handsome kidnapper, none other less than James Moriarty, the most dangerous criminal known. Your brother Sherlock had had some confrontations with him, you recalled. But you hadn’t seen the man in person, only from pictures.
‘‘You’re the dude that played that stupid game with my brother, right? Do you know how rude it is to hit a lady on the head? I mean, if you really wanted to kidnap me that badly so you could annoy my brothers even more, you could simply have asked. That would have saved a lot of trouble, and a soring headache…’‘
Jim frowned at your words, clearly not expecting such a reaction.
‘‘Stupid?’‘ He mumbled, more to himself than to you.
You only crossed your arms in a stubborn way and looked out of the window, seeing trees and streetlights pass by quickly.
‘‘You better take me to a nice place,’‘ you muttered, slightly angrily. ‘‘Or I’ll let you experience how it feels to get hit on the head.’‘
You don’t see the little smile tugging at Moriarty’s mouth. Maybe this would be much more interesting then he’d thought…
(Gif not mine)
Fever
Pairing: James Moriarty X Reader
Requested By: Anonymous
Prompt: #22 - Fever - an abnormally high body temperature.
Summary: Reader has to take care of a sick Moriarty.
Warnings: Some light cussing, nothing too crazy.
AN: My very first ask! :D You made me happy! I feel like I rushed a bit to get this out before class, so I hope you like it. Cheers!
~!~*~!~
You felt hot, almost too hot as your eyes slowly opened and you looked over at the clock. It was still early, the sun just starting to peek on the horizon and cast and orange glow within the bedroom. You brought your hand up, feeling the sweat on your brow as you wipe it away, wondering if you were getting sick. You curse yourself mentally, knowing you shouldn’t have stayed out so late in the cold the other night. You turn your head to look at Jim, he was curled up next to you with his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close. You didn’t want to wake him, so you grabbed his arm and that’s when you realized it wasn’t you, it was him.
He was burning up.
You move your hand to his forehead, feeling the heat radiating from his skin before you ever make contact. You sit up carefully and maneuver yourself out from under his grip, watching as he curls up with the pillow you were just using. You smile, loving how cute he looked while sleeping, so innocent looking. You had to hold back the scoff of laughter at the thought of James and innocent in the same sentence, you knew better.
You make your way across the bedroom, grabbing your silk robe and wrapping it around yourself before making your way down stairs to get an early start. You make a batch of tea and pour some for yourself while you start a pot of chicken broth. You yawn as you start cutting up some vegetables, and before too long you have a nice pot of chicken noodle ready. You grab some lemon from the fridge and some honey from the cabinet, mixing them together with the hot tea and placing it on the tray along with a bowl of soup, a tall glass of water and a wet cloth. You know he’ll be awake any moment now, so you head up the stairs and back into the bedroom.
When you enter the covers are completely off the bed along with the pillows, and Jim is laying in the middle, stripped down to his underwear. You walk closer and place the tray on your nightstand, “James,” you say softly, sitting on the bed with one leg crossed beneath you as you reach out and stroke his sweat soaked hair off his face. “I made you some soup.” He opens his eyes and you pity him as he suddenly starts to cough. Jim hardly ever got sick, but when he did it was always awful, and lord knows Jim didn’t handle sick very well.
“I’m not sick,” he mumbles, batting your hand away weakly, “and don’t look at me like that.” You ignore him and grab the cloth from the tray, using it to dab at his face. He grumbles, something under his breath that you can’t make out as you fold cloth and lay it across his forehead. “I have things to do,” he says, his voice horse from the coughing, “I’m not sick.”
“Of course not, darling.” You say, getting off the bed and picking up the pillows from the floor. You set them up against the headboard, motioning for him to sit up and he does, a scowl on his face as he leans back against them. You readjust the cloth and then hand him the tea, he looks at it for a long moment, a staring contest to the death. Finally he gives in and takes a drink, a winch crossing his face as he swallows.
“I need to get ready,” he says, trying to hand you the cup of tea but you just stand there, hand on your hip, an eyebrow raised. Another glare, another cough, a huff and he drinks the rest of the tea. “Happy?”
“No,” you say, taking the cup back and sitting back down on the bed, this time facing him. “I’ll take care of business today, you need to rest.”
“Like hell, you haven’t a clue as to what needs to be done.” He retorts, the cloth falling from his face as he sits up in protest.
“Oh please, you have a lunch today at eleven with Mr. and Mrs. Foster, nothing too serious, just to get a feel of the two before you decide to go any further. Later I believe you are scouting out an area in downtown London, adding a few final touches before you contact your hounds and release them on that wicked old man that pissed you off last week.” You say with a smirk.
He clears his throat, “well, that wasn’t sexy or anything.” He says, leaning back into the pillows in defeat. He starts coughing again, his head falling back against the headboard and letting out a groan as he did. You turn until you are sitting next to him, pulling at him to lean against you, “no, I’m not a bloody child.” He says, but allows you to pull him as he lays his head down on your chest.
“Not at all,” you say, laughter in your voice as you run your fingers through is hair. You grab the fallen cloth and dab at his face again, watching as he closes his eyes and eventually falls asleep. You lay that way for a few hours, watching the steam fade from the soup you made. Watching the way he twitched as he slept, listening to his breathing. Luckily your phone was near by, you quietly made a few calls, one to the driver, the other to the doctors office.
“I’m not going to the doctor,” he mumbles against your chest.
“You’re going to the doctor, even if I have to hold you at gun point to get you there.” You say, the threat sounding in your voice
“Hmm, sound kinky.” He says, a smirk on his face as he looks up at you.
You only laugh and place a kiss to his forehead, making a mental note to add some extra rounds to your purse later before you leave. ~!~*~!~
![JM: [Y/N], Put That Camera Down.](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f6f2ffbb2d42f0ebdf181d1b5756586d/tumblr_inline_onbogtZH301rtk5ez_250.gif)
JM: [Y/N], put that camera down.
[Y/N]: i’m trying out the new phone you got me! so far so good~
![JM: [Y/N], Put That Camera Down.](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9819dbb8e5270a9484cbca7dde43de68/tumblr_inline_onboipXo161rtk5ez_250.gif)
JM: You’re lucky you’re wonderfully interesting and pure evil.
You grinned and he couldn’t help but to grin back.
Moriarty x Reader | ‘Always Take The Shot’
Hey! So this is gonna be my first ever Moriarty x Reader fic, I hope you guys like it. (It might be a series…)
Plot: You are a crime scene photographer working alongisde Sherlock, John and Lestrade. You capture something you weren’t supposed to…
Warnings: None,
Guide: C/N = Client Name
*click*
The sound of your camera snapped a photo of the dead body in front of you. You quickly looked down at the screen and blankly stared before it disappeared again. You were a photographer.
Well… You took a course at university to be a creative photographer but ended up being a crime scene photographer. You also worked alongside Sherlock and John. The two were very famous in the media, Sherlock was a ‘consulting detective’ whilst John was a blog writer and wrote about the two. Sherlock said you were the best photographer he’s ever seen and regularly uses your photos for evidence. John also uses your photos on his blog. It has given you quite good rep in the past.
But you were just working alone this morning. Sherlock and John were caught up with a particular man called Moriarty.
Keep reading
Masterlist
Sherlock Holmes
Without You
Game Night
Song for You
Fight with John
Crime Photographer
Prank
Unreadable
Coming Out
New Years
Secretly Dating
Dating Sherlock Would Include
We’re Enemies
Can We Keep It
Cuddles
Drunk, Pants
Intimidating
Batman
Proposal
Protective Brother
Panic Attack
Off the Rails
Nightmares
Sacrifice
Family Panic Attack
Front Door
Sherlock’s Playlist
Games
John Watson
Game Night
Fight with Sherlock
Crush
Coming Out
New Years
Dating John Would Include
Math
Forgiving Sherlock
Proposal
Nightmares
Family Panic Attack
Jim Moriarty
Finding out that you work with Sherlock
Plot Twist
New Years
Dating Moriarty Would Include
Stop Deflecting my Cuddles
Drunk, Cuddles, Pants
We’re Enemies
Drunk
3 AM
I’m Alive
Feelings
I Want to Break Free
Jim’s Playlist
Friendship
Jealousy
Art Institute
Protective
Egocentric
Games
Mycroft Holmes
Awkward Crush
3 AM
Protective Brother
Having Mycroft’s Baby
Dating Mycroft Would Include
Molly Hooper
Molly Hooper’s Playlist
32 18 10 8 please with moriarty. If its to many just pick one please
Reader x Moriarty
8. “What part of ‘we’re enemies’ did you not understand?”
10. “I’m not a biology teacher, but I’m pretty sure your dick isn’t supposed to be in your personality.”
18. “I’m not expert, but enemies don’t usually have tea together.”
32. “You’re supposed to be dead. Why aren’t you dead?”
You unlocked the front door to your flat and walked in, freezing in place. “You’re supposed to be dead. Why aren’t you dead?”
“Y/N, it’s always a pleasure to see you.” Jim Moriarty smiled and poured himself a cup of tea.
“I thought you killed yourself.” You blurted out. “And out of all the places you could be why are you sitting in my living room? How did you even get in?”
“Y/N, you always were my favorite.” Jim sighed nostalgically and poured another cup of tea, holding it out towards you. “Tea?”
“I’m not an expert, but enemies don’t usually have tea together.” You muttered warily, taking the cup and placing it on the table.
“Drink up.” Jim smiled at you, taking a sip of his own tea. “It’s rude to let someone as handsome as me drink alone you know.”
“I’m not drinking that tea, Jim.” You shook your head, laughing lightly at the fact he thought you’d be stupid enough to take tea from him.
Jim sighed, taking the cup and drinking from it. “It’s not poisoned. I’d never poison you, Y/N. You’re too good for that. After all, you are my favorite.”
You stared at Jim for a long time before speaking up. “Okay seriously, what part of ‘we’re enemies’ did you not understand?”
“All I’m saying is that we don’t have to be enemies, Y/N.” Jim told you, with his customary smirk plastered on his face. “I like you, Y/N, I really do. You’ve got this fiery personality to you. And you’re witty. You’re definitely someone that could have an intelligent conversation.”
“Thank you?” You said, although it came out more like a question.
“Don’t get me wrong you’ll never be half as smart as I am, but then again the only person that might come close is Sherlock.” Moriarty paused, scanning your body before looking back at your eyes. “But you’re cute enough.”
“I’m not a biology teacher,” You huffed. “But I’m pretty sure your dick isn’t supposed to be in your personality.”
“Oh c’mon, Y/N. We could be partners in crime. You and I would rule England together. I can give you the world and then some.” He told you, leaning across the table and placing his hand on your arm. “And as for Sherlock. He can’t give you half the things that I could.”
“Sherlock’s a better man then you are.” You pulled your arm back.
Jim Moriarty let out a deep, sinister laugh. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that one, love. You’d be surprised about the kind of man he is.”
You looked away from Moriarty, not wanting him to know that his words made you think twice about Sherlock. He grabbed your hand, snapping you out of your thoughts and placed a kiss on the back of it. “If you do change your mind love, just give me a call.”
With that, Moriarty left his card on your table and walked out the door as if he had never been there.
13 and 25 with Moriarty please 💕 x
Reader x Moriarty
13. “It’s three a.m.”
25. “This is a horrible idea.”
You felt a poke on your cheek and shifted away.
“Y/N.” Your boyfriend Jim poked you again. “Come on wake up.”
“Go to bed, Jim.” You swatted his arm away and faced the other side.
“Y/N.” Another poke.
Begrudgingly, you opened your eyes looking at the alarm clock and then at Jim. “It’s three a.m.”
“Time is only a number.” Jim responded in a sing-song tone. “Besides I’ve got a great idea.”
“What is it?” You asked warily. Jim’s ideas almost always ended with the two of you getting in trouble.
“Get dressed and I’ll tell you on the way.” Jim flung clothes at you and walked out of your shared room, yelling back behind him, “I’m going to get the car. Meet me outside in ten minutes.”
You groaned and grabbed the clothes, putting them on as fast as you could before walking outside. When you were outside, you knocked on the car window and waited for Jim to unlock the car.
“It’s so bloody early, Jim.” You muttered while getting in and buckling your seat. “This better be good.”
“Oh, it will be.” He assured you, backing out of the driveway.
After driving for a few minutes in silence you spoke up. “Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?”
“We’re going to steal the crown jewels.” He told you excitedly.
“Steal the crown jewels?” You asked in disbelief. “You just did that last month. Remember, they had a trial and everything.”
“I didn’t steal them, Y/N. They didn’t leave their case.” Jim said as if it was the most obvious thing ever.
You stayed quiet for a minute. “This is a horrible idea.”
“Well, get ready.” Jim stopped the car. “Because we’re here.”
When you refused to get out of the car, Jim opened your door and grabbed your hand, pulling you out.
“We’re going to get caught.” You muttered, anxiously. “I’ll never survive in jail.”
Jim stopped walking and turned to face you. He placed his hands on either side of your face reassuringly. “We’re not going to get caught. You’re with me, darling, remember.”
“It’s still a bad idea.” You sighed before asking, “Why are we even doing this?”
“Because Honey, you should see me in a crown.” Jim smirked, placing a light kiss on your lips. He grabbed your hand once again and pulled you the rest of the way.
The crown jewels loomed in front of the two of you. Jim looked over at you, shooting you a wink. “Pretty cool, huh?”
“Alright, yes. It’s pretty cool.” You admitted.
“Go stand next to them.” Jim told you. “I’ll take your picture.”
You let out a laugh and moved over to stand next to the crown jewels. “Alright, I’m ready.”
“You’re just standing there.” He rolled his eyes. “Boring.”
“Well then what do you suggest?” You crossed your arms.
“Do something evil.” He told you.
“Like what?” You asked. “I don’t know any evil poses.”
“Pretend like you’re going to kick the glass down.” Jim smiled, getting his phone ready.
“That’ll set off alarms, Jim.”
Jim gave you a soft smile. “I’ve already disabled them. Do you really think I would bring you somewhere dangerous?”
You grinned and pretended like you were kicking the glass down as Jim took your picture. “Is that evil enough for you?”
“We’ll work on it.” Jim laughed before continuing, “But now, I think we need a little music.”
Before you had time to answer, Jim started playing Staying Alive by Beegees. He grabbed the fire extinguisher off of the wall and took out his gum, sticking it on the glass. Jim looked over at you. “You better stand back. I don’t want the glass to hit you.”
“Jim-” You began to protest, but he shot you a stern glare. You stepped back and watched as he placed a diamond on the gum and hit it with the fire extinguisher, shattering the glass.
With a goofy grin, Jim stepped into the case and began to put the crown jewels on. “What do you think, Y/N?”
You took your phone out and snapped a picture as your eyes scanned over Jim’s body. “You were right, Jim. I did need to see you in a crown.”
Could you write something for Jim Moriarty with prompt 9? Maybe with a reader that works with/for him and is an assassin (and kinda badass and sassy)? Also your writing is super good!
Yes yes yes I love that idea!
____________________________________
Prompt : "Make me."
Warnings : A little bit of cursing,
Mentioning of death/murder
Pairing : Reader x Moriarty
____________________________________
You slammed the car door shut behind you and leaned back in your seat, relaxing for a few minutes. Just watching people outside passing by. You weren't in a hurry.
After a while you carefully you pulled out your phone to read the text you got again.
After making sure that you got everything memorized you put it away. Placing both hands on the steering wheel without turning the car on.
You had a special phone for every single client of yours. Of course every client was different. But today you got a message from a special one. Special because he was the only one out of all of them that you actually liked.
Maybe even more than that. But you didn't allow yourself to think about that to much.
And he wasn't just different because of that.
No. There was another reason too.
Some clients wanted you to steal for them, to spy, to lie, to get information that no one else could get. And on some very rare occasions even to make people disappear one way or another.
You didn't particularly like your job. It had its ups and downs. But you we're good at it and in the end that was enough for your clients.
Every single of your clients had their own phone for when they needed your services. But this phone had a difference.
If this phone Rang it meant death. Never spying or stealing. If this phone Rang it meant some poor fellow somehow, somewhere had to die. And it was your job to do it.
With a sigh you turned your car on and started driving. You had work to do .
_________
You parked in front of a house in the middle of nowhere. You had just finished your job and now your client wanted to meet you. To "cheek in" he said.
This wasn't normal at all. Every other client of yours stayed as far away from you as possible but not this one....You had the feeling he took every chance he could get to see you but maybe that was just your imagination running wild.
It was way to late and way to cold to be outside for to long so you quickly grabbed your car keys and walked up to the front door.
Two men completely dressed in black were guarding the house. Both of them were heavily armed. As soon as they recognized you the practically jumped out of your way. Staying as far away from you as possible while opening the door for you. You nodded as a silent thank you and stepped inside.
You walked up the stairs, already knowing where to go. You opened a big door without even bothering to knock.
Your client sat behind a big table. A big grin appeared on his face when he looked up.
"Moriarty" you greated. Stopping in the middle of the room.
"Y/n! Where are your manners? Not even a hello or a good evening? I'm shocked."
You stayed silent, crossing your arms with a small smile. You would never admit it out loud but there had always been a chemistry between you and him. Since the moment you started working for him.
To bad you had a strict rule to never have any kind of close relationship to one of your clients. Just wasn't good for business. Even though you had to remind yourself and him of this rule multiple times in the past.
When you stayed silent he stood up and walked around his desk. "How's my favorite assassin doing?"
You tried to hide the smile that wanted to form on your lips. But you were pretty sure you failed.
"Oh you know." you replied slowly,
"The usual...How's my favorite client doing? " You asked in return.
He seemed very pleased with your answer you could tell because this time his smile reached his eyes.
You stayed in place when he walked around you. You two always played these little cat and mouse games of back and forth. And it would be a lie if you said that you weren't enjoying it.
You didn't even flinch when one of his hands gently wandered over your waist just for a second before he stepped back and sat down in a chair in front of the fireplace.
"Come here my dear. Drink something with me. Stay a little bit. "
You shook your head with a smile.
"You say that every time. And it's always the same answer. You know my rule. "
He rolled his eyes in the most dramatic way possible.
"Rules are boring. Name a different reason. "
You grin." I'll name you three. One, I'm afraid you can't afford more of my time. Two, My job is done here and three-"
He held up your car keys. You closed your mouth mid sentence.
Of course... he had taken them just a second ago when he strocke your waist. And you didn't even notice. "Shit." you thought to yourself before speaking. "Give them back."
He smiled innocently. And placed them inside his jacket without breaking eye contact.
"Don't you want to spend just a liiiittle more time with me y/n? Come on i can tell that you like me. It's rather obvious I would say. And you are one of the few people who don't bore me to death. Don't disappoint me now. Pleeeaaasee, please, please don't be boring. "
You clench your hands into fists.
"Jim moriarty. Give me my keys back. Now."
"Make me." he replied, eyes gleaming.
No he definitely wasn't bored right now.
You couldn't help but smirk. "Alright... But you asked for it."
Before he even had the chance to reply with some smart-ass comments you leaped at him. Throwing him out of his chair in the process and pinning him face down to the floor.
He giggled a high pitched giggle while playfully struggling in your grip. "Oooooh now that's exciting! Tell me y/n are you enjoy this?"
You rolled your eyes with a smile. Yes. Yes you were. But you certainly wouldn't tell him that.
"No. Not at all. And now..." you reached around him. Inside his jacket only to find... Nothing.
He took you by surprise when he suddenly rolled around. Throwing you to the ground only to pin you down on your back.
"Searching for this?" he teased while holding up your keys.
You fake gasped "Yes I was! How did you know?"
He grinned in return. Throwing the keys over his shoulder and pinning both your wrist to the ground. The keys landed somewhere on the floor with a clatter but neither of you really cared right now.
He looked down at you for a while. Multiple seconds passed while he was only studying your face in silence.
You gulped. Suddenly you weren't sure how important your "No close relationship with clients" rule really was.
You cleared your throat "What about my-..."
"We find them later.." He mumbled, suddenly very serious.
His mood switches made you dizzy. Sometimes it was hard to keep up with them.
"Stay." He half ordered, half begged.
You couldn't tell how serious he really was until your eyes meet his. It feelt like you looked at him for the first time. Really looked at him. He looked honest. Like he really wanted this. Like he wanted this as much as you did.
"Stay" he mumbled again. His voice was barley more then a low wisper. And finally. After who knows how long you gave in.
"... Fuck it" you thought and freed one of your hands to pull him down to you.
Just when your lips where about to meet his he stopped you, speaking directly against your mouth. "I may regret asking this but... Are you sure about this ? There's no going back after... "
His hand tightened around your wrist just a little bit.
You took the time to think about your decision again. The consequences that this could have. Good and bad ones but in the end you already made up your mind. You wanted this. You wanted him.
"Don't make me regret this okay ? ..." you wispered. Your eyes meet his again and you smiled playfully at him. "And now kiss me bevor I change my mind."
And he did. In the end he was right....
Rules really are boring.
____________________________________
Aaaaalright that's it!
Hope everyone liked it
Love ya'll <3
Sherlock
B-DAY
Imagine Moriarty Loving You
For My Followers
James Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes are locked in a deadly stand off.
This is looking to be the end for John and Sherlock.
*RING*
It’s Moriarty’s phone it’s going off.
“Oh for the love of-” James groans and pulls out his phone with one hand. He answers it but keeps his aim at Sherlock. “Hey babe what is it?”
“Oh James I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I know you said I could call you at work but I know your work is real important so I hate to do this,” you gush.
“Darling it is okay. Just tell me why you’re calling,” he invites sweetly. James Moriarty may be a cold blooded super villain but he melts at your feet.
“There are these guys here asking for you. They said they’re friends of yours but they’re freaking me out,” you explain and James growls.
“I’ll be right there (Y/N). Go lock yourself in the safe room honey,” he guides.
“Going now James. Kisses babe! I’ll stay safe if you do!”
“Alright I love you,” he sing songs.
“I love you too!” you giggle and then hang up.
James looks up at Sherlock and John and shrugs.
“The wife just called. Looks like you two can get away this time.”
The lights cut out and James Moriarty disappears.
Two Men and A Murder Suspect
Imagine by: @sherlockrelatedimagines
Imagine: Moriarty threatening a jury to find you not guilty when he finds out you’re on trial.
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Pairing: James Moriarty x Reader, Slight!Sherlock x Reader
Warnings: Mention of heavy violence
Keep reading
Requested by anon
PART 1, PART 3
Now, to go into detail of how you and Moriarty told those of your … partnership
Of course, it had to be big and dramatic
Anything less is unacceptable
You and Moriarty plan something complex and utterly ingenious
Maybe robbing a few banks at once
Maybe leaking classified documents
Maybe edging two foreign governments on the brink of war
Maybe an assassination on a high ranking official
Maybe all of the above at once
And Moriarty could not have done a single thing without you
“You are a horrible influence on me.”
“I would hope so.”
All of this devious planning also included clues for a certain detective and his partner
Sherlock could not understand how Moriarty had done it
How could Moriarty control so many moving pieces?
How did he orchestrate it all?
How?
And more importantly, why?
Before it crosses Sherlock’s mind, his phone rings
Mycroft’s name flashes on the screen
Sherlock has to suppress a groan
“Mycroft.”
“Sherlock. It seems a certain someone has decided to play a game with you, but he has also jeopardized other governmental affairs which I now have to set in order again. Have you figured out why?”
“He sent you something too, didn’t he?”
“Yes. A letter with an address. It says to bring your brother and your brother’s boyfriend.”
Sherlock, John, and Mycroft obey the letter
How could they not?
Curiosity is a powerful weapon
And they all want answers
They enter an old play theater
The place schedule for demolition next week
The main foyer had a concession stand and a small waiting area
The doors straight ahead hanged off the hinges revealing the broken stage in the distance
Along with the rows of cushioned seats that were rotting and eaten away by burrowing rats
A pair of stairs lead to a balcony above where a set of door lead to the higher seating
The air smelled rotten and moldy
Everything dull and dusty
Expect for the man of the hour
Moriarty
Standing in front of the bottom floor doors
Dressed in the sharpest suit
A vibrant shade of navy blue
He smirks
“Hi.”
The trio stays silent
Moriarty pouts
“Aw, come on. No, ‘Hi, Jim, seen you’ve been busy’ or ‘Hello, isn’t is a beautiful day for a meeting’? You guys are no fun.”
John steps forward
Solider first
“What do you want, Moriarty?”
“To have some fun, duh.”
“You mean to show off.”
“And that too. You know what, John, you’re catching on. Maybe one day you’ll be as smart as us. Maybe.”
John would have punched him
Only if Moriarty wasn’t a murderous psychopath
Mycroft clears his throat
“So, I assume this whole charade you created was a show of power.”
“Yes.”
Sherlock interjects
“How? It’s nothing like your other … plans. Far too complicated. Unless … unless you’ve expanded gathering more soldiers, gathering more intelligence to complete such a task.”
Moriarty smirks
“Expansion? I suppose you could word it like that.”
A door creaks
The trio glance up to the balcony
Out of the shadows, you stroll out
Sharply dressed
A suit that matched Moriarty’s
You smile wickedly as you lean on the railing overlooking the stunned trio
Mycroft immediately starts cursing under his breath
You laugh
“You kiss your mother with that mouth, Mikey.”
He glares
“Mycroft.”
“Don’t care.”
As you descend the stairs, Sherlock glances between you and Moriarty
Moriarty’s eyes never left your presence
A wide smile spread over his lips
John appears a little confused
“I … I thought you two hated each other.”
You shrug
Hate that actually masked something else.”
Sherlock states the obvious
“You’re together.”
“Duh, Sherly. And are you alright? You’re looking a bit pale,” you smirk
You stand next to Moriarty
He wraps his arms around your waist
He pecks your cheek
You look over to the trio
“Now, that you three know I want to say something.”
You peel yourself out of Moriarty’s embrace and stroll forward
You whip out a gun hidden your waistband
They all froze as their hearts beat faster
You lovingly glance at the gun with a soft smile
Like it was a your newborn
Your eyes flicker up with danger radiating off of you
“I want you to commit this gun to memory because if you try to hurt Jim, in any way possible, I will personally put three bullets in your head with this gun. Got it?”
They wordlessly nod
Moriarty chuckles
“Isn’t she just the sweetest?”
You and Moriarty leave the trio to silently reel with this new information
Now while you and Moriarty despise the Holmes boys and John
You also can’t help but admire their intellect and determination
Even if they constantly ruin your fun
But from time to time, you will all call a truce
You and Moriarty won’t do anything
And Sherlock, John, and Mycroft won’t either
You all go to someone’s house for drinks
While drinking, you and John love to gossip about the Holmes boys and Moriarty
“So, Sherly, did what?”
“He deduced that a man’s wife was having an affair with the next door neighbor’s wife. Poor bloke was about to punch Sherlock in the face.”
“Oh man, did I ever tell you about the time I caught Mikey flirting with his assistant. Not the best. Very awkward like you expect. But not as bad when Jim was given the wrong information and embarrassed himself in front of high ranking officials. His little cheeks blushed a delicious shade of red. He nearly killed the informant.”
John chokes on his drink
You’ll gossip with John while Sherlock, Mycroft, and Moriarty are two feet away
They grumble
Sherlock mutters in his drink
“Again, why do we have this truce?”
“Because you have no other friends.”
“Says the murderous psychopath.”
You’ll lean in whispering into John’s ear while maintaining eye contact with the others
He’ll chuckle or spit his drink back into his glass
The others will glare
But of course, you said nonsense
You just wanted to get them all worked up
And sometimes that’ll lead to a fun time later tonight with Moriarty
“Honey, are you trying to get me mad?”
“Maybe.”
And when everyone is drunk enough games will ensue
Friendly competitions
Like 20 questions with random nouns attached to your forehead
You take a swig of your drink
“Am I a person?”
John snorts
“Define person.”
“I’m Sherly or Jimmy, aren’t I?”
“Try again.”
“Mikey.”
“Bingo.”
The game will get heated
“Draw four! What the fuck, Jimmy!”
“Sorry, sweetheart, but you know how I love to win.”
Lots of thinly veiled threats
The Holmes boys almost broke out into a fight one time
John was the only one who could break it up
Now also during games, you’ll sit on Moriarty’s lap or lean on him
Both of you always near each other
Needing to touch one other
Mycroft and Sherlock will gag
But you roll your eyes at the Holmes boys
“That’s right, boys, we fuck. Unlike you, hey-o!”
You raise your hand and Moriarty high fives you chuckling
After so many drinks, everyone is joking and laughing like old friends
Even Mycroft who is so poised
But now he is slurring his words talking about utter nonsense
“I … I’m, I’m the g-government! I … I derseve the cr-crown!”
“Hell, yeah, you do, Mikey! The biggest one with all the pretty jewels.”
The night blurs by
More laughter
More embarrassing moments
Lots of videos and picture
Curtsying of you
And they may or may not become blackmail some time down the road
And you all wake up with massive hangovers
Everyone cranky
Glaring at each other
Hoping someone will make one wrong move
Hoping to start a war
But no one ever does
You wonder why you do this
“So, same time next month?”
Everyone mumbles
“Yeah.”
And you’re reminded why
It’s fun