Sherlock Imagines

Queen of Crime👑Moriarty X Reader

You smile greedily, watching the chaos caused by you, on the television. Then, a man with dark, curly hair, a trench coat, and a deerstalker hat comes on the screen.

"This was obviously done by a female around the age of thirty, with red fingernails and dark red lipstick. She is a psychopath and enjoys seeing people suffer. She feels no remorse for what she does, as she laughs everytime she shoots someone. You can tell by the chips of red nail varnish, lipstick smudges, and uncontrolled array of bullet holes. I believe that she would be watching this as of right now..."

The rest of the man's words are muted, as you hear the sound of footsteps coming up to your flat. You sigh, smiling slightly. The man- yes man; you can tell by his gait- is obviously interested in a business deal. His casual, confident steps expose him as a fellow criminal mastermind, wanting to create an alliance.

You know that he could get in the flat whether you lock the door or not, so you don't bother locking it. To you, this is all a game: he'll come in wanting to join forces, you reject him harshly, he'll be stubborn and plead for you to join him, you shoot his foot, he leaves with his tail between his legs; this time, you can tell that this guy will be especially persistent.

The door opens; you don't acknowledge it. The door closes; you stare at the telly. "I know you're the criminal mastermind behind the operation on the telly. I watched you the whole time; followed you too," he says.

You say nothing, but you do turn the telly off and stand up. You go into the kitchen and grab some water, then head back into the living room and sit back down.

The man has a smirk on his face, and his hands in his pockets. "Now that's no way to treat your guests, now is it?" He asks in mock offense. You snort, drinking the water.

"You weren't an invited guest, so...yeah. I believe that ignoring you is the way to treat an uninvited guest," you say. He mocks hurt, then grins widely. "I like you already," he says. "Don't get attached," you say.

He smirks. "Yes, I like you very, very much. I have an offer that you would hate to turn down," he says. "I don't think so," you say. He frowns. "Honey, you can't turn it down. I'll kill you if you do," he says. You laugh. "That's what they all say," you respond. The man's lips curve into a smile.

"Do they all mean it?" He snaps his fingers and a red dot appears on your forehead. You sigh. "Fine. What's your offer?" You ask boredly. He smirks. "You and me become the monarchs of crime. I'll be the king; you'll be the queen," he says.

While saying this, he has inched closer and closer until he's right in your face. You smirk. "What if I say no?" You ask, testing the waters. He backs away, smiling maliciously. "Then kiss your life goodbye," he says.

Knowing he's got you, you cave in. "Alright. But first, you have to tell me your name," you say. "Jim Moriarty," he says, inching closer once again. Then, he captures your lips with his.