Random x Reader One Shots

Jim Moriarty x Reader !

"No It's for the better"
Jim/James Moriarty
Angst, pure angst, pretty much just a vent one shot.
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Slotting the keys into the door I twisted them quickly to the left, my hand rotating twice over as I unlocked the door to 221B Baker Street. Pushing open the door, I remove my keys and slam it behind me. My feet take swift steps as I head over to Sherlock, without a thought in my mind I make my way over to the idle man. Shaking my sleeve up my wrist as I raise my arm, his blue eyes come into contact with mine, the whisper of a smile lifting itself onto his lips.

"Hello (Y/N)-" My hand makes contact with his cheek, his neck twisted to the side as shock makes a home in his features. I shake where I stand, rage, fear, and sadness all ruminating in my mind as I stare at the man I once loved. "I have no words for you," I state, "Not like you'd need them anyway." I turn from him, heading to the room we once shared as I collect my belongings, throwing them all in an old suitcase I had brought with me when I originally arrived at the flat.

Sherlock watched as I ignored memories, forgetting to throw pictures of us in but remembering every gift we shared. Finally, my hands felt the scarf I gave him when we first met, the one he always wore. My eyes glossed over for only a second before I threw it on the bed behind me. Zipping up the suitcase, I refused to look at him as I left my key on the side by his skull. "I hope you can find a new flatmate, you'll go insane all alone," I muttered quietly, letting my worry for him slip through as if he had never done anything.

With that I walked down the stairs, my feet feeling as if they were on fire until I left the building. With my feet on the concrete, I took a deep breath of the London air. For the first time in weeks, my mind was finally thoughtless, though I knew that would change as soon as I'd be alone.

Soon enough a car pulled up, not Mycrofts personal chauffeur, but a man I'd never seen before stepped out. A grin on his face as I walked in front of me, "Need a ride?" his Irish accent peaked out as I surveyed him for a moment. Without thinking I let out a small sigh followed by an almost manic laugh, "Why not?" I responded with a weak smile.

Turning to face the car, he opened the back door for me and took my suitcase to put in the boot. As I got comfortable I took note that there was a personal driver, I wouldn't have been shocked if this was another relative of Sherlock's. When the man got in the seat beside me I took note of his eyes, brown and filled with fire, as if he would happily watch the world burn without a second thought. Something intrigued me about those eyes, how could someone who seemed so lovely have the most dangerous gaze I'd ever seen?

"I'm Jim, Jim Moriarty." He introduced, awkwardly turning to shake my hand. As the driver set off I took his hand in mine, shaking it politely as I responded, "(Y/N) (L/N), though you already knew that right?" Letting go of your hand he let out a short laugh. "You could say that..." He leaned back in his seat, letting his head drop onto the headrest as his fingers drummed on the side of the car for a moment. His eyes lazily turned to make eye contact with you once again, "Not someone your boyfriend would approve of though." Looking out the window I let out a breath, my head bobbing twice to feign a nod. "Not my boyfriend anymore... If you're on about him that is.

He let out an elongated humming noise, a small 'click' sounding from his side of the back seat. Turning my head I felt the breath hitch in my throat, the cold metal of a gun pressed directly against my skull. "Shame... I thought you could be useful..." Staring at him wide-eyed, my mouth fell agape as I shook in my seat. My hands tremored as I felt behind me for the handle, tugging on it I realised the child locks had been put on.

Closing my eyes, I scrunched my nose as I felt tears form, my shaking breath slowing as I tried to stabilise myself. Trying to figure out what I'd want my last words to be, I gripped the seat underneath me as I breathed out my final sentence. "I know it's for the better" For a moment there was nothing, just our breathing in the car around us. That's when I felt the cold metal move away from my skull. As I fluttered my eyes open I saw Jim in front of me, his lips pressed into a straight line as he analysed me.

"What did he do to you?" He asked softly, tears soon streamed down my cheeks. Finding myself sobbing I hid my face as we continued to drive in silence, the only sound being my whimpers and whines as I frustratedly tried to stop myself from crying. Those few words had managed to break me instantly, the feeling of being seen by someone who had just tried to kill me moments ago. Something I never realised would be an issue while being Sherlock's partner. Yet this killer had made me feel more cared for than I had in months, even by my own friends.

That's how I met Jim, or as I know now, James Moriarty.

FIN
950 words