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moriartysnerd · 3 years
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Jim Moriarty x fem reader Harry Potter! AU
An: this is kinda short, not really anything big. Just a cute little story. I want to start writing more one shot story’s in this AU. There will be many more parts, I just needed some soft fluf, tell me if there’s anything specific you’d like to see!
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How you loathed mornings. The sun had finally just begun to hit your eyes as you awoke to the soft click of the dorm room door closing and giggling slowly fading away behind it. You finally managed to open your eyes and looked around. Everything around your bed was so clean, and all the other girls had left. The images of what you and sherlock did last night flashed in your mind. You where always so tired after a revision night with the ravenclaw. You struggled to keep up with him half the time, you couldn’t imagine how you two had become friends in the passing years but there was no getting rid of him. You wiped your eyes clean before getting up and preparing yourself for the day. Sherlock seemed to of gotten everything ready for you. Even folded your uniform. The neat freak. You smiled to yourself, slipping into your attire and then reaching for your tie. It was blue. Not only was it blue, it wasn’t yours. Sherlock’s cologne swiftly surrounded you as you picked it up. He’d taken the wrong tie. No. Of course he hadn’t. Sherlock Holmes didn’t make such simple mistakes. He was either marking you, or he wanted to tell you somthing. Either way, unless you wanted house points off you had to wear a tie. Unfortunately, you wernt in the mood to deal with a professor harassing you over somthing so simple. It was settled. You’d wear it.
It felt like it took you forever to get ready that morning, the minutes where dragging and so where your feet. Finally your hands reached for your bag, tossing it over a shoulder and groaning at the heaviness. Seems Sherlock had packed that too. You groaned in defeat as you realised you wouldn’t have the time to resort you bag and headed out of your room and down the stairs, making your way out of the common room. It still made you laugh to think that Sherlock had some how found a way to sneak passed the magic and get himself into the girls dorm room. He was bright, you’d give him that. He was also somewhat of a charmer. Always helping the other girls in your dorm room, Or waiting outside when any of them needed to change. He was more than welcome to say he wasn’t really a people’s person, but most of all. The girls loved the drama he could indulge. Sherlock could deduce things so easily with substantial evidence. He was a drama whore, he just didn’t admit it. He’d figure things out about couples, teachers, classes the works. It was like a super power. It even had its perks. He was a bright wizard and you where somewhat in his shadow, it didn’t help that people constantly doubted your intelligence. Thinking you where only friends with Sherlock so you could pass classes. You worked your ass off for those grades. With or without Sherlock.
You stumbled your way into the great hall, sighing softly when their was no sign of Sherlock. Of course he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. He had your tie, he wanted something. You walked past a table, picking up an apple and taking gentle bites out of it, the noise of people chattering filled your eyes as you stared up at the huge Christmas tree in the corner. That’s right, Sherlock would be going home for Christmas. He’d invited you, but you’d declined. Christmas was for family after all. You smiled a little shaking Your head, you had Netflix and chocolates for Christmas. Plus most if not all the girls in your dorm would be gone. A practically empty school. Perfection.
You hadn’t noticed how far you’d wondered out of the great hall until you’d made your way to the whomping Willow tree. You knew not to get too close, she didn’t like that. You sighed softly as the wind blew through your hair, letting the breeze comfort you effortlessly.
“Blue tie L/N? Honestly, that man has you collared like a mutt.”
The Irish voice broke the silence, you didn’t face him. Moriarty. You knew it. You could feel it in your stomach. You and Moriarty weren’t really on speaking terms, he’d been harassing Sherlock a lot this month and you’d always been the one having to comfort the Ravenclaw after Moriarty visits. It didn’t help that Moriarty and Sherlock both shared a house. They where both Ravenclaws. Both so alike yet so different. Sherlock found it impossible to sleep in the same room as the man stood behind you. That had started the whole “study nights with Sherlock” thing. Sherlock would sleep with you, unbeknownst to the teachers, you where close. You wanted him to be safe.
You took yet another bite of your apple, the sour taste now running down your tongue and slipping down your throat. It was bitter. You threw the apple towards the willow tree and it sprang into action, destroying it in seconds. It was almost a warning. A warning for James to back off. Maybe he couldn’t find Sherlock either and that’s why he wanted to play with you. You wanted to tell you darker male to leave you alone, to push past him and never see him agian, but you couldn’t. In an odd way he had you wrapped around his finger, and only he knew that.
“I came out here looking for Sherlock. He has my tie. I wasn’t going to risk the house points.”
You stated, Still defiant and refusing to look at him. You knew it made his blood boil. He was taking time to give you attention. Attention that wasn’t being reciprocated.
“Didnt you hear? He left this morning.”
Those words rang in your ears as you swallowed dryly. He left without saying goodbye? It was stupid, of course it was, but it still bothered you. You two where always together. Then he just leaves? You thought you’d atleast get another week with him before he left for Christmas. You shook your head silently, finally looking into Moriartys deep eyes. Your stomach couldn’t handle it for too long as you looked away.
“Whoops. Have I told you something I shouldn’t? You should be used to this though, shouldn’t you? You’re always second best to him. If he leaves you. He still has John. Who do you have L/N?”
He practically sang those words but that didn’t stop the truth from hitting. You where going to be alone on Christmas. No matter what way you looked at it. Moriartys eyes softened as he looked down at you, was it pity? Possibly. You never knew with this man.
“He has a family. Which is more than either of us have. He’s his own person. He can leave if he wants too.”
You gently gripped Sherlock’s tie and pushed past moriarty, swiftly walking back inside. You weren’t about to doubt your best friend over this. No way. The day slowly blew over, you had been bored out of your mind without Sherlock. He annoyed the hell out of you, without him even magic couldn’t keep you entertained. 4 o’clock eventually chimed and you made your way to the library, there was one thing you could do that would pass the time. Work. You spent a good few hours revising alone. Picking out books and writing. Even practicing a few non-threatening spells while alone. You grew tired early, the sun just beginning to set as you put your last few books away, packing up your things and wandering down the empty corridor your ears picked up the soft Irish chuckle of moriarty once agian.
His laugh was sweet, it belonged in the hearts of millions. It was a shame it belonged to such a horrid person. You continued towards his voice, your feet moving without your mind even telling you too. He was stood near an open window, watching the sunset. He had quietened down and whatever he was laughing at had long since passed. Your hands traced the wall as you came up behind him, staring at the sunset, unsure of what to say. You knew this man. You knew him well. However once you started hanging around with Sherlock, you drifted. He was no longer the most important man in your life.
“It’s nice hearing you laugh agian..”
You spoke softly, looking up at moriarty, he didn’t even glance at you, but still acknowledged you. You gripped Sherlock’s tie a little tighter as you looked down. You felt the gentle touch of a hand brush yours as moriarty moved to hold your hand, still staring out. It was golden hour. Everything was beautiful. It was as if nothing had changed between you two.
“I do miss you sometimes darling, i must admit I hate how Sherlock acts like he owns you.”
Moriarty spoke gently, weaving a hand around your waste and holding you from behind, head placed on top of yours. Neither yours nor his eyes left from the gorgeous veiw of the lake just outside the window. Everything in that moment felt so right. You couldn’t even stop yourself from your own thoughts. They where a mess. Leaving you confused and somewhat brave. You couldn’t even prepare yourself for what was to come, but one string of words slipped out and for once, you where glad they did.
“Spend Christmas with me jim....”
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moriartysnerd · 3 years
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Jim Moriarty x rockstar!reader
A/N: this is my first time ever writing with moriartys character. It may be off from his true character and there may be human error. Apologise in advance.
The sweat dripped down, circling around your body as you continued to prance around the stage. By now the speakers had cut off any noise that wasn’t the beat or your own voice. The constant beat of your guitar bouncing against your abdomen and hips had started to become slightly sore. You flicked your head back, while grabbing your guitar, in an attempt to move the damped mess out of your eyes. The crowed was cheering, almost mimicking the ringing in your ears as you swallowed dryly. You where out of breath and worn out, but by God where you going to give the last verse your all. Finally, you stilled on stage, feet glued to a particular position as the lights faded to black. You panted hard unable to catch your breath, your lungs hurt, your eyes hurt, your throat hurt but holy shit, that was one of the best performances of your life. You’d spent months on this tour, and needless to say, your partner back in London didn’t seem to be too happy about it. He’d warned you how bored he’d be without your undivided attention. James had built your career. He was somewhat of a manger for you. When he first came up to you, you’d never recognised him. It was a cold evening, your fingers hurt twice as much as they did remembering the events
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You where softly strumming on your guitar in the middle of London town centre, waiting for your friends to finish up with their classes and come and meet you. The unfortunate thing about going to a separate university was the scattered time tables. You weren’t causing too much attention to yourself, it was a busy day and at worst people would think you where a busker. You where only tuning your guitar back up, it was starting to sound pitchy and unpleasant and you needed it perfect for the bar later tonight. You weren’t just specialised in the guitar. You where a jack of all trades. Could play a lot of instruments. Thinking back that must of been what James saw in you. It had to be. It wasn’t long until you caught the attention of someone, despite it being a humid day he still wore a trench coat and scarf. A shorter man following behind him. They taller man seemed to stop when you locked eyes, hair being brown back by the wind. You found the nerve to atleast smile, he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. The fear finally stuck you when he headed quickly towards you, muttering to himself. He was analysing you. It didn’t take a genius to realise that. His loyal lap dog following short after. The shorter man seemed to limp, he stuttered on a few words but managed to keep a conversation with you going. The questions lingered in your head longer than you’d like to admit, and with the cloaked man looming over you. You felt trapped.
“My names doctor John Watson, and this is sherlock.”
You recognised him. How could you not. The Sherlock Holmes. They wernt there to hurt you. They where there to interrogate you. Johns words seemed to calm you once you realised who they where. Fortunately for you the conversation and answers didn’t last Long when you heard a groan from sherlock, who suddenly stormed off calling back behind him.
“They don’t know anything John. They havnt been here for that long. No change from the music. Even their fingers arnt reddened from playing their guitar. Well loose the suspect if we wait any longer.”
John sighed. It seemed as if he was used to being dragged all over the place. He thanked you before waddling back after sherlock. You groaned softly, you wernt a busker, but you didn’t dare say that out loud. Imagine telling a famous detective he was wrong. You sighed softly, running your fingers through your soft hair, taking a step back you heard a crunch. Instantly looking down, you seemed to pray you hadn’t accidentally stood on a pigeon. Thankfully, it wasn’t. However, what was there seemed somthing more important that the slight decrease in London’s flying rat population. A pendrive. It wasn’t there when you first sat down. And no one other than the detective and his faithful sidekick had been near you. You added up the dots rather quickly. It couldn’t be important, Sherlock Holmes wouldn’t of just simply dropped something right? You picked up the drive, looking around before shoving it into your pocket. Going back to your guitar, finally your friends came from around the corner. They all looked out of breath, it was reliving that they’d actually run to meet you. You loved your group of nerds. However the rest of the day was draining. You couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on you. Not fully anyway. Even with your friends constantly around you there was always something just slightly off. It was later that evening when you met James. You where about to come on stage when a man in a gorgeous black suit came out, he had a soft Irish accent and smelt of mint and old books. He instantly caught your attention. His little smirk covered his face as he realised you where staring.
“Didnt mummy ever tell you not to stare my dear?”
You face flushed with embarrassment as you clutched your guitar case. Biting your lip hard and walking past him to get to the stage. To this day his little chuckle still rang through your mind.
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After they lead you off stage you where taken back to your dressing room and completely spoilt. They made sure you had water, and an ice pack just incase and they finally left you alone. Once alone the realness set it and all you could think about was James. How mad you where at him. How you’d left London angry as he screamed about how he’d made you.
“I could just as easily take it away”
you mimicked under your breath. Fists clenching into balls.
“What was that, my love?”
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It wasn’t until after your little solo that you ran into James again. This time he was outside when you left. You where planning on leaving with friends but the night hadn’t planned out this way when two of your friends had gotten so drunk they’d thrown up. Another vivid memory you’d never forget. The Irish man approached you, smirking a little wider as you kept your eyes of him
“You’re learning.”
He spoke softly standing just infront of you, you wanted to know what he wanted. He knew it But the drawn out silences caused you to crack faster
“Can I help you?”
You asked, trying to keep it polite. You wernt one to judge based on looks, but he looked important.
“Your preformance. I want to represent you, wouldn’t you like to be a star my dear? I could make you shine.”
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“What was that, my love?” The sweet sound of his voice filled the quiet room as you turned to glare. The second you locked eyes your glare softened. You couldn’t stay mad at him, well you could, just not when he came out all the way from London.
“I didn’t think you’d ever leave London.”
“For you dear the distance was worth it.”
He tried to make a move towards you before you stood up, backing further away. He stopped in his tracks, chuckling and looking down.
“Still bad blood?”
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He’d lied to you. About everything. You’d figured it out a few months after. All because of that stupid pendrive. You’d left it out in the open when James had first visited your apartment. It was quite a cozy small space. You’d put the kettle on and had a cup of tea while discussing what you where studying in uni. The man seemed very enthralled with what you had to say, and everything about you if we’re being honest. By the time he had left the pendrive was also gone. You didn’t think to much of it. A clumsy mistake, you’d misplaced it. That wasn’t the case. You’d found the pendrive in James’s pocket once again when he came to visit. Only it was accompanied by a second one. You bit your lip and placed them on the table while he was in the kitchen. He’d noticed they’d been moved. But didn’t hide them. He didn’t even pick them up when he left. He just left. It had information. Cases on Sherlock Holmes. Most importantly the victims of the London bombings. A full detail description of each and every single one of them And that’s when the knock came on your door. Sherlock Holmes himself.
“He’s stalking me! I don’t know what he wants but he won’t leave me alone Y/N! I never asked for this I never-“
“Jim. Jim Moriarty. He told me James... he told me everything. He had photos. Evidence. He took those pendrives. You’ve been using me as a messenger for months. Sherlock knew that if he faked an interest in me. You’d use me. And that’s what you did. I was secretly passing both of you those pendrives without even knowing. I was helping a criminal!”
James snapped out of his little victim role. He chucked and shook his head
“smart, very smart my dear. It’s a shame, my plans for you wernt over yet...”
You shook your head frantically, and grabbed your suitcase. Leaving soon after. The criminal didn’t even give chase. He watched you leave. He knew he’d hurt you.
“I made you.”
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You glared at the now foreign man stood there. Your gaze was burning into his soul. He was right. He made you. He could take it all away. But was it really yours to begin with. Moriarty sensed your thoughts by the look on your face and gently moved to put his arm around your waste, this time you didn’t stop him. You leaned into him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
“See, isn’t it so much better to be in daddy’s arms agian kitten?”
He was a psycho. he’d ruined you. He was a murderer. He killed people. He blackmailed people. But, he was different with you, he was kind and gentle, he’d helped you with you career. You where already in to deep. He wouldn’t let any harm come to you. In that moment. That was good enough. You locked eyes with jim Moriarty. Your Jim Moriarty. And gently placed your hot lips aginst his, pulling him closer by the jacket and slowly letting him claim you. You tried to pull away when you needed air but Moriarty just chased your lips. Even outside of work he couldn’t help the torture. When you two finally separated you looked deep into his eyes, holding his face in the palm of your hand.
“I love you Jim Moriarty.”
“I know you do my love. That was the plan.”
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