Can you please write a Moriarty x reader meet cute? It just seems so unlikely for someone like him to meet his s/o that way, making it even cuter!
Thank you 🙏
After You, Love ~ Moriarty x Gender Neutral!Reader
Summery: You meet the most puzzling person at a café.
Word count: 1,424
Warnings: Free and clear, Darling
A/N: Anything for you Darling! I'm so sorry it took me so long to answer this. I love this idea and I hope you enjoy my execution of it! you are a wonderful human being and I send you all my love! See you later Darlings.
Mingling with the common peasants wasn’t really James Moriarty's style. They were all soooo BORING! Seven billion of them and not a single brain cell among them. He found it tedious to have to talk to them. None of them got it. They didn't see what was right in front of their stupid faces. Sometimes, he almost felt bad for how easily he could mess with their empty little heads. Then they actually spoke and any drops of empathy he had was washed away in the tidal wave of disgust that flooded his brain. He did like to watch them though. To study how they talked and walked and pretended to live a life with any sort of purpose. He had a favorite little café in the heart of London that he loved to watch them all from.
He was standing looking at all the little puppet people running around when from behind him the barista called out his order: a double shot of espresso with a cheese danish. As he grabbed the coffee out of her hand someone else grabbed the little bag with the danish. Startled, he looked to the right and saw someone whose eyes were different than everyone else's. There was something behind them that sparked his interest.
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You thought you had heard your name. In all honesty you were too busy looking at all the people in the café to pay attention. They all seemed so far away from you somehow. Like they all existed on a different plane of reality. You knew they didn't see the world like you did. That they didn't understand things on the level that you understood them. You saw the little strings pulling them around like marionettes putting on a play of living. Sometimes you felt bad for them, but most of the time you were just confused how they could be content to live like that.
You grabbed the danish bag but before you could grab the espresso someone else did. In utter confusion you looked to your left and saw a man standing there looking just as puzzled as you. The moment your eyes met it was like the whole world went out of focus around him. As if you watched him step onto your plane of existence. Like he was the first person you could truly see.
“Ohh sorry,” you said, holding the bag out to him. “I thought they said my name. I think we got the same order.” you looked him over. Noting the slightly upturned corners of his mouth, His slicked back hair, and his slightly chewed cuticles.
“S’alright” He said in a thick Irish accent. “You have good taste.” He laughed lightly as he said it. You could feel him studying you as you locked eyes again. It was like he could hear your thoughts as he eyes bore into yours, like he could watch you think. His intense gaze lessened as he began to talk, “I’m Jim. do you ah… do you come round here often? I stop in almost every day and I don't think I’ve seen you before.”
You shook your head, “No, I’m just here for business. Seemed like a nice spot to catch up on emails, that's all.” You weren't lying, you were here on business, and you did have some emails to read. You tried to put together what he did for a living as you looked him over. His gray suit was expensive which read business man but the callus on his right index finger indicated he commonly fired a weapon. He was a puzzle, one that you needed to solve.
“Y/N!” the barista called again, holding out the same order. It startled you out of your investigation and back to the moment at hand. Jim smirked,
“Y/N, I'll have to remember that.” you chuckled as you took your espresso and danish.
“Care to join me?” you asked, gesturing to a nearby table.
“Sure, sure” He agreed happily. The two of you sat together for a while, both attempting to riddle out exactly what connected the two of you. The elaborate dance you performed together around the truth of your lives’ was mesmerizing. Eventually, all good things must come to an end. And Jim and you parted ways about an hour or so later. Jim made the excuse of a meeting and you made the same. You were both lying.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your target that night was irritatingly easy. Actually, it was insultingly easy. Government documents are always the simplest, you would think they would at least try to challenge you.
The office that you were in was sparsely decorated. A large antique portrait of someone you didn't care to recall was hung on the wall behind their desk. It was a small concrete room, honestly it seemed like a sad place to work. Mycroft Holmes was pretty high up there though so you suspected this was supposed to be a very secure location. You typed away on the desktop, almost absent-mindedly breaking through the encryptions.
Your mind had wandered back to Jim from the café. Even now he was still perplexing. No one else ever seemed to remotely match you in wit or intellect, but there he had stood, sharp as a razor and clearly just as deadly. There was something unique between the two of you, something you had never felt before. You had talked for an hour without a pause, it was like the electricity between you was tangible. You regretted not getting his number. Though you had a sneaking suspicion that if he wanted to find you, he would.
The sound of leather shoes creaking at the other end of the room roused you from your thoughts. You pulled your gun from its holster smoothly, pointing it in the direction of the sound. Your eyes were still locked on the screen as your free hand typed away. They whistled as you cocked the gun,
"No need to be hostile, Love" The thick Irish accent made you smile. "After this morning I thought we were friends." You smiled and finally looked up at him. He was in the same grey suit. His hair still slicked back, but his smirk was replaced with a grin. He had his hand in his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels. “Soooo… What are you doing?” he whisper-yelled.
“I could ask you the same thing." You glanced back at the screen. The last firewall was almost broken, it wouldn't be long before you were in. "Don't tell me you work for the government." Jim laughed,
"Who, me? Noooo no no no. They are SOOO pointless! They just sit there, with their grandiose illusions of power and importance." He walked closer to the desk as he talked. Rolling his eyes and gesturing with his hands. The cadence of his words sounded almost musical as you broke through the last of the so-called "defenses''. You looked back at the screen as Jim talked.
"I know where the real power is. I know how the world works." He stopped in front of the desk, "And I think you do too, Y/N.” you smiled as you hit download on the files you needed. The orange thumb drive already waiting in the USB port.
“Do I?” you asked. His normally rather high voice got low and drown out as he spoke
“Ohh I know you do. I mean you're here aren't you? Stealing classified documents to sell to the heist bidder.” he leaned in close until his forehead nearly touched yours. You looked up from the computer screen you had been so focused on. His face was inches from yours. He smiled wickedly.
"That's true," you sighed, "what are you going to do about it?" His smile grew,
"Offer you a job, obviously." He moved back and raised his eyebrows. "You're clearly quite clever. So why not be clever with me?" You just looked at him.
“Are you offering me a job or asking me out on a date? Your words say job but your eyes favour the later option” You smirked at him as he leaned back in.
“Why not both?” There was something so captivating about him. When he got close you could smell his cologne and see just how much was hiding in his eyes. You had no doubt that he was a complete mad man, then again, so were you.
“Alright. Drinks first, then tell me a bit more about your operation.” Jim smiled,
I’d love a fanfic/short story with Mycroft facing a situation where the person he’s dating/wife/etc would feel insecure about herself and he reacts to her telling him so - I’ve only ever read stories, where either he gets comforted by someone or where he takes care/worries cause of Sherlock, so it would be interesting to read about how he’d handle a situation like this (for example if one is concerned with not being „pretty enough“ or anything „profane“ like this)
So Brilliant ~ Mycroft x Gender Neutral!Reader
Summery: You haven't been yourself lately and Mycroft is worried about you.
Word count: 813
Warnings: No need to worry, just a few kisses and cuddles!
A/N: Hello Darlings! Surprise, its a bonus story Tuesday! I love the way this story turned out and I am so thankful for @deductinglife for requesting it. it not vary long but then again when is anything I write long lol. I hope everyone enjoys it, keep those request coming y’all!!!!! see you lovely Darlings on Thursday!
Mycroft was worried about you, he had been for over a week. You seemed distracted, far too in your own mind to properly perceive the world around you. Even in conversations with him you seemed distant.
You were sitting up in bed, reading one last chapter of your book before bed. He took a moment to appreciate how at peace you seemed. How perfect you looked in your simple robe, all the extravagance and embellishments of the day stripped off of you so you were left as nothing but your truest self. That was Mycroft’s favorite part of getting to spend nights with you. No one else got to see you in such a true and vulnerable state. He was deeper in love with you then he thought himself capable of. It was thrilling and absolutely terrifying to care for you the way he did.
“Mycroft?” your words startled him out of his musings as he stood in your shared room's door. “Are you going to come to bed or do you plan to stand in the threshold all night?” you laughed lightly as you spoke. He did the same as he climbed into the four post bed with you.
“Now how could I stay there when someone so brilliant waits for me in bed?” he leaned to kiss you but to turned your head away. “Darling?” he asked,
“Do…. Do you truly think I'm brilliant, Mycroft?” you looked away sheepishly.
“What do you mean, Darling?”
“I mean, I'm nowhere near your intellectual level am I? You can process information faster than a supercomputer and I…” you took a shaking breath and stopped yourself from rambling on. Mycroft was stunned. He had never imagined that you would feel like this. You were normally so confident, so certain of yourself and your abilities. Now he looked at you and saw the doubt that had been infecting you for so long. He saw how vulnerable you truly were. There were tears in your eyes as you put your book on the nightstand and took another breath. He took you hand in his, making you look at him reflexively. The worry in his eyes was not lost on you as he began to speak.
“You, my love, are truly the most brilliant person I have met. Certainly the only one capable of holding an intelligible conversation with me. I would not have given myself to you if i thought anything less. I am grateful that someone like you chose me in truth. You have an emotional intelligence that I lack entirely. In all reality, though it would pain me to admit this about anyone else, your mind far surpasses mine.” Mycroft stared into your eyes to ensure that you understood every word he said. He meant every single one. Your mind astonished him every day and the idea that you could put up with him baffled him. He had been so lonely before you found him. His large house had been so empty without you and so had his heart. He owed you his happiness.
You smiled at him, understanding what he had told you. Mycroft was not prone to lying about matters of his heart. In just a few moments he had quelled the insecurities in your mind. You were still not cured of such thoughts but you never would be. They were a doubt that would plague you for your whole life, but Mycroft had eased them. His was the only opinion that truly mattered to you and to know that he saw you with such a high regard made the voices of doubt quiet. He was everything to you, you owed him your happiness.
You leaned into him, gently taking his lips against your in a gentle and loving kiss. His hand came to rest on your cheek, deepening it slightly before pulling away. He looked into your eyes for a moment, taking in your expression.
“Is that what has been troubling you, Darling? You haven't been yourself for over a week.” He asked gently,
“I will admit I have been worried about it for a while.” you looked sheepish again but Mycroft stopped you from looking away.
“Well, don't worry about anything like that again. You are brilliant.” he smiled and kissed you for a moment. He knew you would still worry about it. He understood those thoughts, though ideas in your mind that would never leave you. But he hoped that maybe he had helped and that next time you would come to him sooner.
He sighed and laid back against his pillows,
“Now, turn off the light, I think we could both use some rest,” you agreed and did just that. As you began to get comfortable Mycroft pulled you close to him, a rare occurrence. He held you close and kissed your forehead. “Goodnight Darling” he whispered.
Hi! So I imagine Moriarty as the more jealous type, but how would he react if his partner becomes jealous of someone? Fluff please! 🥰 Thank you
Now Pet~ James Moriarty x reader
Summery: You and Jim Moriarty are long standing partners in more then just crime. you have never really been the jealous one till a Russian office makes a few moves on your man. Jim knows just what to say to let you know you are the only one for him.
Word count: 712
Warnings: Nothing much but some fluff for a lovely mutual!
A/N: Here you go hun! I hope it was something like what you were thinking. its kind of short but I saw the idea and I just had to write it! Enjoy everyone!
Your blood boiled. Your skin crawled. You felt as though you would tear through this mask of calm at any moment and rip the head off of the insolent little wretch who thought she could touch your Jim. The beautiful ballroom you stood in faded from view as you stared at the pair on the dance floor. Jim held the blonde haired woman close to his chest, one hand resting on her back while the other held her hand tightly. He smiled and she laughed at something he said. As a high ranking Russian official she made a useful ally but that didn't stop you from hating her. She thought she could step in and take your Jim away from you as easily as she had done before. Not to your Jim.
You crossed the room once the song had ended. Jim met your eyes with their normal glint to them. The woman turned round to see what had caught the eye of the man she desired. You stare daggers at her.
“I do believe this next dance is mine,” you smiled at Jim and he stepped towards you.
“The pleasure would be all mine, Pet.” The blonde rolled her eyes and sulked off. a triumphant feeling spread over you. The string quartet began again and the dance started. You relaxed as you felt the familiar warmth of Jim's body tight against yours. The way his hand pressed into your lower back and held you firm made you melt. The side of your head rested against his cheek as you both moved through the steps. He hummed a little in your ear.
“Now Pet, if I didn't know you better I might think you were jealous,” he sang the last word or so, drawing it out and making you roll your eyes.
“I am nothing of the sort,” You retorted a little too quickly. Jim laughed,
“Well then I suppose I will go dance with our new friend.” he began to pull away but you held him in place. “Ohhh,” Jim giggled, “So you are jealous.” He sounded practically thrilled. “Now, Sweets, we both know that's my job in this arrangement.” he danced you both off the floor then began to pull you away from the crowd.
“Jim, what are you doing?” the question slipped from your lips as you made it out of the large room. He only smiled and ducked into a door to the right. It lead to a large office with towering windows and lush furnishings. The door closed behind you. Jim’s arms snaked around your waist as he pulled you against his chest once more. The warmth of his breath in your ear made your skin prickle.
“Now pet,” he whispered, “were you scared that mean Russian woman was going to take me away?” he said it in an almost mocking tone. As if he were speaking to a child. You sighed and traced your fingers along his arm,
“Well I knew she was at least trying,” you felt his chest shake as he laughed. He turned you in his arms, still holding you close but looking you in the eyes.
“Ohh Sweets,” he said with a tint of mischief in his eyes, “why would I ever leave a dazzling creature such as yourself?” He took your hands and released you, looking over you with an approving gaze. You smiled and pulled him back to you. “If it makes you feel better, Pet, she can be dead by morning.” his voice went up in pitch as he spoke and he began to pull out his phone.
“No darling, not yet, we can at least make use of the wretched little thing first.” you smirked. Jim laughed,
“Ohh you're bad, you are.” he said in his adorable accent before pulling you into a passionate kiss. Making you melt into him before he pulled away and stepped back.” Now pet, we have a government to blackmail!” you laughed at the way he threw his hands up before opening the door. You both left the room and returned to the party. That blonde woman still pined after Jim but he took care not to give her a moment of his time. The rest of the evening was a perfect success.
Request by: @grellsutcliffsworld (Hope you enjoy it!)
Summery: Thins go sideways after Sherlock enlists the help of Mycroft's Partner. With that and His Partner being a complete cluts Mycroft has a lot on his hands.
Word count: 861
Warnings: Description of a car crash but its not graphic.
A/N: Sorry if Mycroft isn't to in character for this one guys. I haven't written in a while and I need to get my groove back. I hope you all still enjoy it! thank you to @grellsutcliffsworld for the amazing idea!
It started with Sherlock just asking a few questions. Did you know some lords in the house of lords? Did any of them have size twelve shoes? One thing led to another and you were in a car chase with a few members of the Russian mod through central London. You were driving, seeing as you were the only one with a car. Sherlock was in the passengers, eyes closed trying to think. Meanwhile John was in the back shooting at the car behind you through the broken rear window. Everything was a blur. All you could focus on was the road ahead of you. John kept swearing every time you made a hard turn. He was unbuckled and was being thrown about. You had just made a particularly bad turn when Sherlock's eyes snapped open.
“Mycroft.” he said, looking at you with sharp eyes. You made an aggressive left at a light. Horns screamed behind you but the Russian car made it through the intersection too.
“Their still following!” yelled John.
“Call Mycroft.” Sherlock said. Making you realize he was speaking.
“What?!” you looked at him like he was mad. “Why would I call him now? Can’t you?” you held your breath as you made it through another intersection by a centimeter or two. Sherlock shook his head. Dark curls brushing along his brow.
“It's no good. He wouldn't answer if it was me. Plus he wouldn't listen if he did.” he grabbed your phone from where it had fallen on the floor by his feet. He dialed and held it to your ear.
“Hello Darling. What is it? I'm about to hold a meeting.” you took a breath at the sound of Mycroft's voice.
“Yes hello. I needed to ask you do yo-” you never got to finish. At that moment the Russians car caught up with you. John yelled your name in warning and fired his gun at the driver. You looked back only for a second car you thought you had lost to come at your side. The three of you were sent careening into the shoulder of the road. The front of your car hit a fire hydrant. John had just managed to get a belt in before the impact. Sherlock dropped the phone and was hit in the face with the airbag. You were hit hardest of all. The second car had hit your side panel. Crushing the door into your arm. Mycroft heard this all before the line went dead.
Mycroft's face was ghostly white when the other members of the meeting got into the room. He stood staring at the phone unmoving before realizing they were all there with a start.
“If you'll all excuse me.” He said as he left the room.
A loud crash rang out from the kitchen as Mycroft stepped into his home. His head snapped up as he dropped everything but his umbrella and ran towards the noise.
“(Y/N)?!” he called as he saw the source of the crash. You were on the floor, covered in flour and a few broken eggs. Pots and pans were covering the counter and ingredients were strewn about. Everything was a wreck. “What have you done!” you laughed,
“Sorry, Mycroft, I fell while trying to reach that pan up there.” The pan you indicated was a rather large cake tray on the top shelf of the pantry. He sighed heavily and helped you to your feet. Careful of your right arm which was encased in a gray cast. He also minded your ribs on that side as then had been fractured in the crash. Once on your feet you shook off some of the flour and scraped off the eggs. Mycroft gagged.
“Daring, really, what do you think you are doing?” he took a step away from you and your mess, brushing the flour off his hands and sleeves.
“I'm baking.” a smile was on your face as you looked at the disaster that was now the kitchen. Mycroft shook his head,
“No darling, you're destroying our house. Besides, do you really think you're up for baking in your condition?”
“It's not a condition.” you almost huffed. Crossing your arms and giving him a stern look.
“Ohh your right, a broken arm, two cracked ribs, and a barely healed concussion is not a condition. It's just the state of anyone who helps my little brother.” His tone had no amusement in it. He looked you up and down before rubbing his temples. “Go shower, darling, while I clean up this mess.” He ushered you out of the kitchen before turning around to examine all the work he had before him.
“It's not Sherlocks fault.” you mumbled more to yourself then to him.
“I heard that love, and yes it is. That brother of mine will be the undoing of this country and my nerves before I am old and Grey. Now go clean up. I have work to do.” and with that you left to shower while Mycroft cleaned up for you. Once you were gone he put his face in his hands.
Hello Darlings! Here is all my fics in one place. Go wild. (Also requests are Closed!)
Disclaimer! I only post once a week so my request are honestly a little backlogged. I will get to your request I swear, just give me time. I am sorry for the delay but thank you so much for the request I love them all!
How about a love-sick yandere Mycroft with a S/O that just loves to dirty herself with pretty much everything she finds and who's also very clumsy, which is why she often gets herself injured/hurt x'D
Would that be a good idea ? :D
Hi Hun! I'm sorry if you asked this forever ago I just got my computer back. After a few months of not having it this is my first time properly on Tumblr.
I have never written or really read anything with yandere before. but as for a clumsy reader I can defiantly do that! maybe Mycroft finding the reader hurt or has made a huge mess from falling and helps clean them up? how does that sound?
Hello! Can you please write preferences for the Sherlock characters going home with the reader for the holidays and meeting the reader’s parents? Thank you 🙏 !! I love your writing
Absolutely Darling! I love this thought and cant believe I didn't think of it lol. I think imma do this in two part. the first as just an over view of what all the characters and the reader did over the holiday. then a more detailed look at what the parents thought of them. they should be up soon!
Also thank you so much!!!! I'm so glad you enjoy my stories. I know they aren't much but I love to write when I actually have the motivation lol.
