Sherlock Preferences & Imagines

Fight 》Jim Moriarty x Reader

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Jim hasn’t even been home for a minute, and you are already screaming at him. He blinks, but doesn’t answer you which fire you up even more.

“You know perfectly well what I am talking about, you motherfucker.” He sighs.

“I only did to what he deserved.”

“What you mean is that your men did what in your head was right, and that was to have him bet up in a dark alley. God, the whole thing I so wrong and such a cliché that I hardly can believe it.” During your shouting you have moved closer to him, now you are standing with just a few inches of space between your bodies. Jim normally looks calm and smug, but now you can see that he is slipping. He is getting really angry.

“He deserved it; he touched you against your will.” You throw your hands up in the air, not confining yourself to not making gestures anymore.

“I yelled at him, told him to fuck off, and punched him. I think I handed it pretty well all by myself. There was no need for you to bother with him!”

“Oh yes, there was!”

“No, it wasn’t you fucker!” The slap is a surprise; it stings on your cheek. You slowly turn your head back towards him from where it had turned to the side.

“Get out.” Your voice is calm, dangerously so.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-“ You don’t want to hear it.

“Get out of my flat, or help me god, I will knock you unconscious and drop you out the window.” He slowly turns, opens the door, goes outside, and closes it again. He knows he fucked up, and that you are not to mess with when angry. The bullet holes in one of his suits that you had taken to the shooting range told him that.

You don’t see him or hear anything from him in the five following days. Nothing. Which makes you happy in a way, but you still want him to come home soon. After day three you had finally calmed down enough to admit it to yourself. But there was no way you were going to ask him to come back to you, he had to come back and apologize on his own initiative. Then, at 10 pm the fifth day there’s a knock on your door. You open the door, already in your most comfortable pajamas, ready for bed. Jim stands there; shoulders slumped, clutching his hands.

“I’m sorry” he says without looking up. You open the door wider and gesture for him to come inside. He does so, still not looking at anything else than the floor in front of him. You close the door behind him and lean on it with your arms crossed over your chest. He takes your silence as his cue to speak, rightfully so.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to hit you, I just lost control for a second. I was just angry at the man that molested you and I thought you wanted him punished.” You sigh before uncrossing your arms. You take a few steps towards him, shrinking the space between you. He is still looking at the floor like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.
“

It’s okay, let’s put this in the back of our minds and go to bed instead.” His head slowly rise up and you can clearly see that he hasn’t sleep well. Also his eyes are slightly red, not much, but noticeable. He doesn’t speak, just stretches out his hand. You take it and lead him to the bedroom. No more fighting for tonight,

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Written by: Readerstories
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5849146