Sherlock Preferences & Imagines

Distracted Again 》Jim Moriarty x Reader

The flat was for once quiet and you used that to your full advantage. You are sitting in one the chairs next to the table, laptop on your lap, with your feet on the table. You know Sherlock wouldn’t care (he has little respect for furniture himself), but John would have nagged that you should put them down. You are also listening to your favorite music out loud; no ear phones needed when there is no one else there. This may be why you don’t hear someone ascending the stairs and opening the door. You do however hear them knocking on the already open door. When you look up, you are met with the face of none other than Moriarty himself.

“I am interrupting something?” he asks with a smirk. You tense slightly, and mumble forward a small “No.” This is the man that kidnapped you after all. Moriarty sees you tensing and smiles.
“Oh, no reason to be tense my dear.”
“What do you want? Sherlock is not here”, you say, wishing he would just leave. Moriarty doesn’t answer, he just walks closer. He pulls the other chair out and places himself next to you. You quickly go through what chances you have of escape. Your gun is out of reach, hidden in one of the bookshelves. You have a small letter knife under your left foot, hidden under some letters. And you could always try to physically fight him. All this goes through your head in under two seconds, but Moriarty seems to know what you are thinking about anyway.
“No need for violence. I am not here to try to kill you; I would never get my hands dirty like that.” You almost snort, but you hold it back.
“Thank you, that was very reassuring”, you say with a voice dripping of sarcasm.
“Now tell me, why are you here?” You are trying to figure out the reason, but you pull a blank.
“I gave you a hint last time we met that should give you a reason why.”
“You used “met” quite widely and wrong there. I think the word most appropriate would be the last you kidnapped me.” Moriarty just waves a hand at you.
“Minor details”, he says. You still try to think, and suddenly it comes to you.
“Last time you said that I was a distraction.” Moriarty claps his hands together, making you almost fall out of your chair.
“There you got it!” Now he gets up and stands in the middle of the floor. “You are a distraction, for what are you really for?” Before you can ask what he means, he continues.
“There is nothing special about you; you are just an ordinary person. Why is Sherlock interested in you? John I get, Molly is useful, so is Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson is an old lady, and Mycroft is his brother. But you, he shouldn’t be interested. So why is he?” You hear him speak, getting more and more confused. Why the hell would he think about why Sherlock was friends with you? You start out of your own thoughts to find Moriarty staring at you. He walks close again and leans in. You withdraw as far as you can without falling out your chair or getting up.
“Indeed why is he? You are just normal. Dull, ordinary, human.” With these words he pulls back and walks toward the door. He has almost closed the door completely before you react. As quickly as you can, you pull out the knife from under your foot and throw it. It flies, and connects with the wood with a satisfying “Thump!”. Moriarty laughs from the other side of the door.
“Now I’m starting to see your appeal!”

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Written by: Readerstories
https://archiveofourown.org/works/5849041