Sherlock Oneshots (Request open)

How Deep is Your Love?

Moriarty X Reader
James Moriarty sighed happily as he stared at the woman he had slept with every night for a little over two years. The way her (h/l) (h/c) bed head sprawled across his chest, the soothing warmth of her body, the sweet smell of her perfume that always seemed to linger on her skin... All these things brought a sense of peace over the consulting criminal, one that was really hard to come by. It amazed him how different this love was when compared to any other feeling in his life. Most of the things he had ever felt were crazy, and psychotic. His deepest urges had always been to take whatever, it din't matter if he was taking a life or any woman's warmth. He'd always ripped away things from others . But this sentiment he had was unique. He didn't want to take anything from her, and she wasn't special -not by other's standards anyways- she was completely ordinary. Something that he despised in everyone else, but that made her more endearing to him. All he wanted was to protect her, to spend every breath by her side...
James Moriarty loved her....
Everyone thought it was impossible. She was an angel, all smiles and warmth. He was the devil, a psychopath who liked to kill for fun. They were complete opposites, day and night should never meet. It was simply unnatural. In other words, to maintain the natural order of things, James Moriarty and (Y/N) (L/N) should not even know each other. What everyone else didn't understand was how well they mixed. That her quiet soul could calm his darkest storms.
Many people had try to break them down too. Moriarty still remember the day that Sherlock found out that he and (y/n) were together and the painful situation that it ensued.

---------------- Flash Back---------------

The tension could be cut with a knife as both men stared each other down. The game had been going for a while now, the final countdown had begun. This was it. Moriarty's message had been clear 'I O you' He owed the detective an unforgettable finale, one that not even the great Sherlock Holmes could ever see coming. A crazy smile twisted his features as he pictured the perfect solution to the final problem. It widened at the stupid, stupid detective's confused expression. Everything was truly going according to plan, until it wasn't. The flat's door opened to show someone who the consulting criminal never expected at 221b. (Y/N). She stood there, grocery bags on her arms as she fumbled with trying to close the door.
"I'm back Sherl. Brought some food over since you and John never seem to have any and you know how much it angers Mrs. Hudson whenever you guys act as if she is your house keeper, which ,honestly Sherlock, she isn't." The beautiful (h/c) just ranted out, her custom L. A. accent bouncing through the air.
Why was she there? Out of all the people that Sherlock considered "friends", why was she the one arriving at that time? Moriarty sat, frozen to his seat, heart beating at a million miles per hour. She hadn't noticed him, not at first anyways. He found the rant quite adorable, considering that it was her voice which sped up to tell the detective exactly what she was thinking without expecting a reply.
An awkward silence fell upon both men as they watched the (s/c) beauty do her thing.
"Sherl, did you use my last bag of tea?" (y/n) asked, turning around to unknowingly face both archenemies. "Why would you-" the moment that her eyes landed in the consulting criminal' s figure the world seemed to stop.
-"Jim?! What are you doing here?" she was exited, he could tell by the way that those (e/c) eyes sparkled.
He was screwed. (y/n) was supposed to continue through life, blissfully unaware of his work line. He had to keep her safe, that was his one true goal. She couldn't know what he did, and he couldn't be the one to tell her.
However, before Moriarty even opened his mouth to say the first excuse that came to mind, Sherlock had already beat him to it. "You know this man?"
"Yeah. You know that day when you deduced that I had been seeing a guy? Well..." She grinned. "Sherlock this is Jim, the guy I've been dating and Jim this is Sherlock, my neighbor, the idiot one." The chuckle that escaped her lips was reciprocated by a frown from the detective and a still surprised expression from the criminal mastermind.
"Is something wrong? Jimmy you are as pale as a ghost. Do you have a fever or something?" She laid her hand on his forehead, and he noticed the height difference between them wasn't as big as her and Sherlock. The angle from which he could look, made her concerned features much more adorable. For a moment, he almost forgot the situation.
"(Y/n) stay away from that man!" The detective grabbed her by the wrist forcefully. Moriarty could see the the pain and confusion in her eyes, and angered boiled inside him.
"Why? What's wrong Sherlock?"
"He is James Moriarty. The man we have been working to capture, the one who blew up all those people, the one who almost blew up John!"
In that moment, in that room the world stopped.
The way she looked at him reminded him of a computer, one that was loading too much information, and because of it would never work again. Would she ever be the same again?
She was shattered. He could sense that. After all they had lived, after all they had shared. After showing all the cracks in the crystal armor and the imperfections in her soul. Telling him everything she had professionally hidden away in the deepest part of her heart. Being his support. She was the only one who knew the real him and he was the only one who knew that. She was the only one who could ever put up with his seemingly bipolar personality without batting and eye.
Yet he lied to her. Time and time again He hid the real intentions of why their relationship began. Moriarty knew he had used her, at least at the beginning. Plus every now and again, he would beg her to do something, one day it could be getting information other days it would be grabing something he couldn't do because of who he was. She had never questioned him, not out loud. And he had never explained. Now the explanations that HE should have given were shared by his ENEMY, and he could see the way this affected her.
While he though of how to explain himself (Y/n) had left. Sherlock glared at the man, even more poison in his eyes. "Now would be a good time to leave, don't you think?" Moriarty knew it was true. He left with out another word, a heavy chest that he couldn't quite explain in his heart. She was supposed to only be a toy, a little doll he could play with to throw away later. Since when had she become so important?
That didn't matter at the moment. All that matterd was that she was hurt because of him.

A few days passed. Sherlock and Moriarty stood at the top of St. Barts hospital. The view of London from above was absolutely perfect and the devilish man only wished that he could've shared it with his angel instead of his enemy who claimed to not be one. Both men knew what the solution to this final problem was and they had both accepted it. Every little detail went according to plan. Moriarty knew that John and his can was in it's way. It was now or never. He knew this wasn't the end for him, and still he worried for (y/n). With a psychotic smile and her name in his mind he pulled the trigger.

------------2 years later -------------
James Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes had been reported dead at St. Bart's hospital. One was found at the top; the other at the bottom. Their friends and family mourned their deaths as the rest of the world carried on, not really caring about the short term celebrities. A person suffered for both of them, was hurt by both their departures.
The first day without them, she cried and screamed. She became a hurricane of emotion trashing the world around her. From the second day foward, she became numb, loosing a lover and a best friend would do that to a person.
Then two years passed, and society moved by and John found a girlfriend and Mrs. Hudson found things to do and Greg kept working on different cases; even Sebastian Moran, the best sniper she had ever met, found new victims and got himself a hobby. Yet she stayed in the same place, stuck. The worst part was wishing to move on and still not changing. It was killing her, and she knew it. What she didn't know: angels and demons lurked in the shadows looking for her well-being from the distance that was permitted to them.
The man stood there, looking at her. Those (e/y) universes that he could always get lost in were suddenly dull and the glossy, (h/l) hair that had always been taken care of was now messy and glum. He hated the obvious effect this had in her, the effect that it had on him. She seemed to finally be coming to terms with him leaving. He didn't want to fuck it all up!
He was scared. He had hurt her before and he was terrified of doing so again. However, he needed her. Every second spent away from that woman slowly took the air out of his lungs. It made him defective, it made him weak. She had to be his once again, for him to function properly.
James Moriarty, the king of crime, needed (Y/N) as his queen. And nothing in the world would stop him from having her.
--------------Back to the present-------------
It had been hard, getting her back. At first she couldn't believe it was him. Once she actually did, she became enraged at him because of his departure and wanted nothing more than to be left alone. But time, like it always seemed to do, healed her open wounds and turned them into scars. Scars that she could ignore if it meant having him by his side. Staying together forever.
The world did try to tear them apart. But they didn't care. (Y/n) (l/n) and James Moriarty were deeply, madly in love. The belong to each other and were happy about tha differences that made them perfect together. The best part? No one else could ever change that.

How Deep is Your your love?
I really need to learn
Cause were living in a world of fools
Taking us down
When they all should let us be
We belong to you and me.