#Mtp x y/n

[ranposbabe]

Wrinkled Sheets

pairing: louis james moriarty x fem!reader

summary: louis doesn’t like the fresh sheets wrinkled but you kept provoking him :(

warning: smut, slight mention of voyeurism??, unprotected sex!! he’s sick of your bs

Each morning the same routine occurred.

From the moment Louis woke up as the rays of sun rise sneaked in past the curtains, he’d gather himself up and dress along with making the bed with fresh sheets. He found it somewhat relaxing. A simple not even task completed to start off the uncertain day.

Atlas, one’s tasks are certain to be disrupted when you are around.

“Louis !” You exhaustingly call, practically slouched over standing in the doorway. Your call did nothing but bounce off the walls as he continued to folding the sheets so precisely.

You couldn’t believe it ! You barely could find it within yourself to stay awake at the crack of dawn to even think about the daily chores let alone do them !

“y/n I’m rather busy at the moment.”

He’s polite with his words yet his back remains to yous still and suddenly a devious thought provokes your mind. “Doing what exactly ?” You tease, taking steps forward as you now stood behind him. Your curiousity leads you to stand on your tippy toes in an attempt to look over his broad shoulders. “y/n” Louis sighs, his hand patting out the creases. You could only stare down at his long fingers and the way they-

“Oh !” You gasp, your balance lost like your lucid dreams. You’re quick to fall against his back but not before Louis quick reflective kick in and he turns ever so slightly just to take you into his arms to stop you descending to the floor.

Just a moment everything stops and you feel everything. How both of his hands are placed against your lower and upper back. How even though you don’t dare look up as your heads places against his chest that its pace has indeed increased ever so slightly.

“Careful.” He softly tells you off before letting you go and it’s only when you’re not pressed against Louis, you feel the sudden coldness of the room and it leads you feeling such discomfort. Time to pursue your idea !

Louis stood still clearing his throat as he adjusted his glasses and he was none the wiser as you moved before him.

As soon as the back of your knees collided with the edge of the bed you didn’t hesitate to sit down, crossing your legs in the process.

You look up and you’re clearly not taken back by the irritated look on Louis face. His brows are practically always furrowed when in your presence.

“Get up.” A sigh once again escapes his lips, staring you down. You take on the challenge.

“Why should I ?” You tilt your head, resting down back on your elbows. He still stands above you, not threatened by your game. That is until your legs are uncrossed and ever so slightly spread and Louis realises that he’s standing ever so close to between your legs.

The faint blush on his cheeks and ears gives him away.

But Louis is quick to compose himself when he sees your elbows creasing the sheets and now he’s been set off. Poor you.

“Enough !” He finally snapped, his tone sharp with warning. His scarlet eyes filled with temptation. You will admit, his tone made a whimper out of you but when you stared up into those eyes you knew deep within you that he was welcoming this challenge.

He continue to glare right down at you, you’re not sure whether he was in contemplation or if this was your punishment. Either way, you were starting to feel uneasy about the answer that you were guaranteed to find out.

“Louis I-

You try to sit up yet as if a switch had been turned, you’re pushed down by the young Moriarty and soft lips are pressed against yours which you greedily accept. Strands of blond tickle your forehead as his hands grip onto the sheets beside your head. Creasing them far more than you’ve done.

He pulls back but before you can question him, he pulls his glasses off, throwing them above you onto the pillows.

Whenever the glasses come off that was when you understood to keep quiet.

His lips now more eager are once again on yours and you return the favour by the opening your mouth to invite his tongue.

It is when Louis reaches down to pick up your leg by the back of your knee that your skirt rises, that you realise the obvious.

“Louis !” Your eyes widened. “The door is still open !”

Anyone could walk by at any moment and the would see the disgrace of yourself. This seemed to only rile Louis up even more, you could tell by the way his teeth dragged his lip without a single care. With nothing to say, you could only pout. His kisses are moved down to your exposed neck. Sooner or later your neck wouldn’t be the only thing out in the open for anyone walking by to view.

Your eyes couldn’t help but follow his movements. How his fingertips rested around your throat, not squeezing but reminding you what he’s capable off. How the light purple and blue veins look exquisite and decorate his surprisingly smooth hands. His other hand was busy pulling up your skirt that was getting in the way of his desire. Your cheeks were warm, in an instant the buttons to your blouse were opening and your legs displayed which Louis rubbed your thigh with his remaining hand yet he was fully clothed, not even his bow tie was disturbed. It felt like a silly game that really only you were playing, following along to his rules. He was the real winner here.

While his addictive kisses which turned your skin into shades of purple moved down to your chest, you sneakily took the chance to move your seemingly stiff hands down to his belt.

You barely got it open before your hands were ripped away. “Are you going to continue to misbehave?” Louis questions you all the while he tugs down your undergarments, your skirt still ruffled around your waist. “Well ?” His movements stop. It all depends on your pretty lips to move.

“Um.” The embarrassment which prior was nonexistent is evident of your reddened face. You could feel his nails begin to dig into the skin beneath the waistband of your underwear.

“I’ll behave.” Your heart is thumping out of your chest and the sight alone of your pleading eyes of submission makes Louis weak in the knees. Quite literally.

Your back arches from the bed, sheets creasing the more your head sways back as your hands move from the sheets to Louis’ hair as he places delicate but long fulfilling kisses on your cunt. The more Louis licks and even bites the more you forget yourself and your lustful cries can be heard outside of the room where the door is wide open as ever.

It’s when Louis’ teeth have a slight nip at your clit, he looks up and those scarlet eyes can see the satisfaction on your dazed face.

He pulls back, looking down at his glistening prize. Not only are the sheets now destroyed in wrinkles from you griping so tight but also due to your soaking wet cunt that’s non stop dripping well because of Louis’ skills.

You don’t even get a second to come down from your high as his mouth is replaced with his cock. His cock so deep in you he snugly fits perfectly. Even if it takes you a minute and a gasp to adjust to his long girth. Every fast thrust, his cock touches your cervix, intending to leave bruises just like your neck. All you can do is cling onto him by his clothed shoulders as he uses your cunt to his advantage. Of course you always have to irritate him. Of course you’re delaying him of his tasks. Always you and your desirable cunt getting in his way !

Well he won’t have it anymore ! The sheets at this stage are done for ! Anymore mess to be made will be put onto you. Quite literally !

As you both reach your high together, it was rightfully Louis’ turn to make a mess and of course he would all over your exposed chest and blouse. He was fully dressed, he can’t make a mess of his own clothes now can he ?

The switch had been turned again, no longer under your enchantment. Louis gathers himself quickly, adjusting his pants as you’re left covered in his mess. “I need to prepare tea.” Louis states, his hands fumbling in an effort to fix his crooked bow tie. You can only stare in, not even budging.

He points to the sheets, his demands never tire. “I want them replaced when I come back. If not you’ll obey the repercussions.” Like that Louis bolts out the door, behind on his daily routine, not even sparing you a glance.

All you’re left to do is pathetically lie there, panting away in a useless attempt to catch your breath. But that’s doesn’t mean you follow instructions. You continue to lie there eagerly staring out at the open doorway, waiting for the repercussions.

[maidensveil]

HOW BEING IN HIS ARMS FEEL LIKE

being in the comfort of his arms and cuddling all afternoon might be the best moments you hope to happen everyday. you dont necessarily like the cruel frigidness in the room, and the touch of his cold skin doesnt help it either. but you dont care-- as long as you're with him and he's with you. the comfortable feeling of being in his arms just makes you forget about the burdens of life, the dreadful emotions that has been eating you alive. the tightness of your mental stability automatically eases up. it makes you forget even the hardest moments of your life.

-- . fyodor, shibusawa, ayatsuji yukito . william moriarty . hanako/yugi amane , teru minamoto . tanjiro, giyuu, obanai , (and anyone else u want!!)

instead of you initiating it, its usually him. he has always been a clingy significant other, not that you mind. it doesnt matter where you two even are, public or private, he just wants to feel your skin against his. he prefers being little spoon most of the time, but it doesnt matter. he often just rests his head on your shoulder. the feeling of it comforts and relieves you, your stress, and basically everything, i mean.. the feeling of his physical affection, his warmth and shared feelings with you makes you feel warm even in the inside.

-- . ranpo, nikolai, dazai . louis moriarty . mikey, baji keisuke . tsukasa, teru (m) . zenitsu

[pillow-anime-talk]

whiskey on the rock.

request ; @the-fangirl-diaries​​: hello! may i please request a sebastian moran x female reader story? maybe one where it’s her first night at the tavern he goes to in episode 5 and she plays hard to get even though she finds him really attractive? it can be spicy, but not explicit.

# tags: scenario; strangers to ?; barmaid!reader; a bit romance; flirting and compliments; a kiss on the hand; sfw

includes: female reader ft. sebastian moran {mtp}

author’s note: sorry that you waited so long :( i hope you like it

When 10 o’clock in the evening came, you corrected the clothes lying on you, and then left the room considered to be the cloakroom and went to the main room of the old wooden tavern. Several customers had already gathered, especially gamblers, and you quickly glanced at every important point in the room as you made your way slowly towards the bar. There, you exchanged a brief smile with the dark-haired bartender, who immediately hunched over and went to the back room to put on loose clothes and go home to sleep. It was the time of your first ever night shift in a famous tavern. There was another girl besides you, with quite a lot of work experience, but she dealt with cleaning, as well as filling out paperwork. Your job for tonight was to pour and prepare drinks for all the customers; both men and women who also visited the bar from time to time.

You started your shift by cleaning a few glasses, and sliced some lemons. You also rearranged the liquor bottles behind you, and finally cleaned the long table where the drinks were placed.

Your first client was an elderly man with a wedding ring on his finger, and your next client was a young man with dark hair and clever eyes. Until recently, you saw him at the table with cards spread on it, but you were glad that he came to drink. It’s always some money earned and an interesting experience; the first man ordered vodka with orange juice, while the dark-haired stranger asked for the oldest whiskey with one ice cube. Of course you complied both requests.

The older guy, after drinking a shot, put the appropriate amount of money on the table and then left the tavern, while the young man was enjoying his drink, glancing at you from time to time. Out of curiosity, you asked:

“Do I have something on my face or..?”

“...No, but you could use a little smile, pretty one.” He said confidently and you just rolled your eyes. “Sebastian.”

“Y/N.”You replied right away, cleaning up the stranger’s dirty glass. “Do you come here often?”

“Often enough for me to know you’re working here from today. How do you feel? You like it?”

“Work like work. Money is all that matters in this world and the answer to whether you can buy a loaf of bread or some coffee to lighten your mood with it.” You replied, finally looking up. Sebastian just chuckled.

“That’s true.” He rested his chin on his hand, watching your movements. “I’m sure you’ll do well in your new job. Anyway, you’re a beautiful woman and I’m sure you’re strong too, so I believe it will be fine. If needed, I’ll help you fend off pushy freaks.” He said in a lower voice and you just shook your head in slight amusement.

Sebastian was very kind that evening, sitting by your side for hours, occasionally chatting up about your life, background, your favorite things, and even your hobbies. You got to know each other better, and at the end of your shift, the man thanked you for the delicious alcohol with an extra tip. Then smiled manly at you, turning to face you.

“Will you be there tomorrow too?”

“Yes. I have night shifts until the end of the week.”

“See you tomorrow then, my dear.” He kissed the outside of your hand and then walked towards his temporary apartment.

For the first time that evening your cheeks turned pink.

[sophistication-as]

classmate!william x reader

modern au 💌 genius x genius

1.9k – fluff, masturbation (m!), pda, soft kisses

@cafekitsune thank you for the divider

happy new year, everyone! thanks for all the support. don’t forget to stay safe and drink plenty of water 💗

classmate!william who always saves a seat for you in the auditorium. he tilts his head slightly, a soft smile playing on his lips as he whispers that he likes being close to someone so dedicated, his voice quieter than the murmur of students around you. he’s never been much of a talker in class, but somehow, with you, silence feels comfortable.

classmate!william who loves your eloquence when you discuss different subjects, his gaze lingering a little too long on the curve of your lips as you speak. even if your words weren’t the only thing he paid attention to, he’d always nod along, offering thoughtful responses just to keep the conversation going.

classmate!william who notices your habit of slipping away for a quiet moment with a cup of coffee. he surprises you one afternoon, setting a steaming cup beside your notebook without a word. “black, no sugar,” he murmurs, his tone as casual as if you hadn’t just realized he’s been paying attention to your preferences all along.

classmate!william who finds you asleep in the library, your head resting on a pile of notes. instead of waking you, he gently places his coat over your shoulders and sits across from you, quietly reading until you wake.

classmate!william who tries to make sense of the unfamiliar warmth that stirs in his chest every time your hand brushes his when passing notes in class. he tells himself it’s nothing, just a momentary distraction, but the thought lingers longer than it should, gnawing at his carefully crafted focus.

classmate!william who clenches his jaw when albert teases him about the way his expression softens around you. he brushes it off, claiming it’s just admiration for your intellect, but deep down, he’s terrified of what it might mean to want something so far outside his carefully built world.

classmate!william who wakes up with his body aching, his breath uneven as fragments of a dream about you flood his mind. his hand is already wrapped around his cock, the slick evidence of his arousal staining the sheets as he strokes himself slowly, trying to chase the ghost of your touch from his dream. his hips jerk involuntarily as your imagined whispers echo in his ears, the way your lips parted just for him, the way you said his name, dripping with need.

he spills himself messily, his cum pooling over his abdomen and staining the blankets beneath him. shame crashes over him almost immediately, and his hand falters as he stares at the mess he’s made. william exhales harshly, his chest rising and falling, his usually calm demeanor completely unraveled. he’s disgusted with himself, not just for the act, but for the fact that it felt so good to think of you like that—too good.

the next morning, he’s brooding more than usual, his jaw clenched as louis and albert exchange amused glances. "someone didn’t sleep well," albert comments with a smirk, and louis adds innocently, "you seem... distracted, william. something on your mind?" he glares at them both, his ears burning as their teasing continues. but it doesn’t stop there. when he sees you later in class, your innocent smile only stokes the lingering fire in his chest. he forces himself to look away, biting back the memory of his dream and the shameful pleasure he took from it. for once, william james moriarty finds himself losing control—and it terrifies him.

classmate!william who, one evening, when he sees you sitting by yourself in the library again, can’t help but walk over. your concentration is so intense that you don’t even notice him approaching. “mind if i join you?” he asks, his voice surprisingly steady despite the flutter in his chest. you look up, meeting his gaze, and something in his chest tightens at the way your eyes light up with recognition.

you nod, and he sits beside you, just close enough to feel the warmth of your presence without crossing that invisible line he’s so careful to maintain. the silence between you both isn’t awkward—far from it. it’s a comfortable quiet, filled with the rustling of pages and the occasional glance exchanged.

classmate!william who glances at you from the corner of his eye, noticing how the soft glow of the streetlights catches your hair, casting it in a warm, golden hue. there’s a small, content smile on your lips, a look that seems to say you’re at ease in this quiet company. his heart beats a little faster, and before he can stop himself, his hand reaches out, brushing against yours.

classmate!william who, after weeks of stolen glances and quiet conversations, finds himself walking beside you on a crisp evening, the cool air brushing past the two of you. the path to the dorms is empty, save for the soft rustling of leaves in the trees and the occasional murmur of distant voices from the campus. it's a moment suspended in time, just the two of you, and for the first time, the silence feels heavy with something unspoken.

you look up at him, eyes widening just slightly, and for a moment, the world slows down around you both. his breath catches as he realizes how close the two of you are, the touch lingering longer than usual. he’s always been good at hiding his feelings, but in that small, stolen moment, he’s not so sure anymore. he can feel the warmth of your skin against his, and the space between you feels impossibly small.

classmate!william who clears his throat softly, as though trying to dispel the sudden tension. “i… i didn’t mean to…” he starts, but his words die in his throat as your eyes meet his, soft and searching. you both stand there for a beat too long, as if neither of you knows exactly what to do.

then, almost instinctively, you step closer, closing the small distance between you both. his heart races as you look up at him, your gaze softening. and just like that, it feels like everything falls into place.

you’re not sure who leans in first, but the next thing you know, his lips are brushing against yours, tentative and gentle, like he’s testing the waters.

classmate!william who feels the warmth of your kiss seep through him, a surge of emotions he hasn’t quite figured out flooding his chest. it’s slow and careful at first, a quiet exploration of something neither of you has dared to voice out loud. but when you pull back, just a little, you both meet each other's eyes, and for the first time, the distance between you both feels so, so small.

he smiles faintly, a soft, genuine smile that reaches his eyes, and you can feel the gentle pull of something more than just affection—something deeper, something that’s been building for a while. “i… i didn’t expect that,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but there’s a warmth in it, in the way his gaze lingers on you.

you simply smile back, feeling the butterflies settle in your stomach as you say, “neither did i.”

and for a moment, you both stand there, the world around you quiet, as the promise of something new lingers in the air between you.

classmate!william who hesitates when he sees you sitting alone on the metro, headphones in, your focus entirely on the view outside. it’s late, the lights of the city flashing by in a blur, and the car is almost empty except for a few quiet passengers. he shifts on his feet for a moment before finally walking over and taking the seat next to you.

“long day?” he asks softly, his voice low enough to not startle you. you glance up, surprised, and pull out one earbud, a small smile tugging at your lips when you see him.

“you could say that,” you reply, your voice tired but warm.

classmate!william who keeps stealing glances at you as the metro glides along its tracks, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence between your conversation. he notices the faint shadow of fatigue in your eyes, the way you rub at your temple absentmindedly. before he realizes it, he’s asking, “have you eaten?”

your head tilts at his sudden question, a small laugh escaping your lips. “no, not yet.”

he hums thoughtfully, pulling something from his bag—a neatly wrapped sandwich. “take it,” he says, holding it out. “it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

you blink at him, surprised. “you didn’t have to—”

“just take it,” he interrupts, his tone firm but kind. there’s a faint blush on his cheeks as he looks away, pretending to focus on the advertisements flashing past the windows.

classmate!william who feels the subtle press of your arm against his as the train sways, the small, unintentional contact making his heart race in a way he doesn’t quite understand.

the metro comes to a brief stop, and more passengers file out, leaving the car nearly empty. the flickering overhead lights cast a dim glow, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has melted away, leaving just the two of you.

classmate!william who catches your reflection in the window, the faint curve of a smile on your lips as you lean slightly closer to him. “thank you,” you murmur, breaking the silence.

he turns to you, his voice unusually soft. “for what?”

“for this,” you say, holding up the now half-eaten sandwich, “and for sitting with me.”

his gaze lingers on you, something tender and unfamiliar stirring in his chest. “it’s nothing,” he mutters, but the way his voice wavers slightly betrays him.

classmate!william who can’t stop himself when the train jerks slightly, his hand instinctively reaching out to steady you. his fingers brush against yours, and he feels the warmth of your skin—soft and real—and it makes his breath catch.

you glance down at your hands, then back up at him, your eyes meeting. the metro rocks gently, and the world seems to stand still as he leans in ever so slightly.

now it’s you who closes the gap, your lips brushing his in a soft, fleeting kiss that feels like a spark in the quiet hum of the train. it’s gentle, almost hesitant, but when you pull away, the look in his eyes is one of wonder.

classmate!william who stares at you for a moment, his hands coming to caress yours. his touch is deliberate, warm, and steady, a rare softness from someone so guarded. "name," he begins, his voice low but filled with conviction, "may i ask if you would like to have dinner with me?" he whispers, his golden gaze locked on yours, decided to show his feelings wholeheartedly for the first time.

you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, his question lingering in the air like a delicate melody. your heart flutters as you manage a shy smile, your hand still cradled in his. “yes, i would love to,” you reply softly, your voice tinged with quiet excitement.

classmate!william who feels a quiet sense of relief wash over him, though his heart still beats fast against his ribs. he doesn’t release your hand; instead, his thumb brushes over your knuckles gently, as though reassuring himself this moment is real. “then allow me to make it a night worth remembering,” he says, his tone confident but laced with a tenderness meant only for you.

you don’t miss the flicker of a smile that plays on his lips—a rare, genuine one that softens his usually composed demeanor. as he leads you out of the library, still holding your hand, you realize this is the start of something neither of you will ever forget.

[fairy-writes]

Would it be too much to ask for a William James Moriarty x Holmes sister reader? Like she's a travelling archaeologist/anthropologist who's a genius in the field and has found many artifacts and lost cities and can be a bit of an eccentric looney like her older brother Sherly but she's also incredibly kind to those in need and often donates her treasures to the less fortunate and even helps Sherly from time to time which is how he meets her and is impressed by her smarts and sarcastic wits. Also, a bit of a parkour junky likes to wear mens clothes tailored for her measurements and often wears her hair in loose buns or ponytails and loves riding horseback much to Mycroft's displeasure🤭

A BUSINESS PROPOSAL

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): William James Moriarty x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Holmes!Reader, Mildly sexist behavior from Mycroft? It is the 1800s after all.

Notes: So this was super fun to write! 

Fun fact! I took an archaeology class for my associate’s degree in criminal justice and highly recommend taking one to anyone in college! 

I actually took several anthropology classes (intro to anthro, bio anthro, and archaeology). I even considered switching my major to anthropology at some point! (I switched it to English lol)

PART TWO HERE

PART THREE HERE

__________________________________________________________________________

Otis whinnies, and you reach forward from your place in the saddle to pat his neck.

“Easy, Otie, almost there.” You whisper to him and gently nudge him to turn down the familiar road of Baker Street. You could spot your brother’s flat from where you were at, an unfamiliar carriage parked in front. You frown briefly and then shrug. Sherlock could have whoever he liked over. 

But… he did promise to take you out on the town in celebration of your latest discovery. Did he forget?

No… He wasn’t the type to forget something like that. You had been exchanging letters for weeks about your coming home. 

A tall man was at the front of the carriage, tending to the horses. He had spiked black hair and a glove on one hand. He looks at you with skeptical eyes as you draw near and dismount your horse. The Cleveland Bay snorts, ruffling your hair as you smooth your hand up his snout and between his eyes. Then, you promptly tied his reins to the post outside 221B Baker Street and went up to the front door. 

The door knocker was more worn than you last remembered, with the shiny brass turning a glimmering gold color from all the hands touching it. You rap the door once, twice, then a third time, and wait, stuffing your hands in your trouser pockets. 

A young man opens the door, sandy blond hair combed neatly and brown eyes alight with curiosity. A grin breaks your face, and you step forward into his arms as he realizes just who is at the door.

“My dear John!” You shriek, and he chuckles, lifting you off your feet and spinning once in a circle before setting you down. 

“I thought you weren’t due back for another two weeks!” He replies excitedly, and you laugh gleefully. 

“We finished early! Anyhow, how’s Mary? Sherlock said you two were expecting!” You say and slap his shoulder good-naturedly. He ducks his head, a pink flush on his cheeks as he nods.

“She’s home at the mo. But yes, we’re expecting. The midwife thinks it’ll be a girl based on how she’s carrying.” He said, and before you could say any more, there was a noise at the top of the stairs. 

You turn, and your grin widens even more until your cheeks hurt. 

“Sherly!” You crow, and he bounds down the stairs to sweep you up in a bear hug. His boisterous laugh made your heart sing, and you buried your nose in his hair. He smelled like cigarette smoke and whiskey. He must have been on a case. He squeezes you tight and sets you down. 

“I thought you were coming back in two weeks!” He exclaims, and you roll your eyes,

“So John said, I told you we finished early!” You tease, and it is then that you notice that there is someone else in the flat. 

He was tall, probably around your brother’s height. He had blond hair and deep scarlet eyes that studied you with interest. He was dressed in a brown suit with a crimson tie. A lord. That much is obvious.

Sherlock notices that you notice his friend and gestures to the man at the top of the stairs. 

“This is Liam! A mathematics professor at Durham University and a friend of mine who helps me on my cases.” He says proudly as “Liam” descends the stairs and approaches you. 

You stick out a hand and introduce yourself. His hand is smooth like you expected, as opposed to your calloused one. You had bandages littering your fingertips from blisters from shovels and tools. 

“William James Moriarty. I’ve heard stories about you.” His British lilt is proper and endearing. You feel your heart flutter and your ears burn. But you smile warmly nonetheless and give his hand a firm shake.

“As much as I’d like to say the same, Sherly has yet to tell me about you in his letters.” You direct the last sentence to your older brother in the same teasing tone as before. 

Sherlock rolls his eyes and punches your shoulder lightly while William watches on in amusement. 

“I got distracted!” Sherlock complains, and you break out into giggles. 

“I would love to hear some stories if you’re up to it.” William cut in gently before you, and Sherlock could start bickering. You brighten. A chance to tell stories of your work and not have someone get bored? It sounded like heaven!

That was how you got to where you were at the current moment. 

You were seated next to Sherlock at the Moriarty dining table, regaling them with a story of the most current dig you had been on.

“—and Egypt was absolutely smashing! It was so beautiful!” You say, waving your hands excitedly as you describe the tomb that had been uncovered. It had taken weeks to uncover everything, almost months. But oh so worth it. 

“Might I ask what you did with all the artifacts you found?” William inquires, and you hum as you sip at your wine. 

“Donated it all back to the locals. It’s the least I can do. Plenty of archaeologists steal their finds and bring them back to England to show in museums. I try and do the opposite.” You say and were pleased to see William nod in approval. 

At least someone shared your sentiment. 

You got a letter to your very old and very dusty flat a week after your return to England, summoning you to your eldest brother’s estate. You had been dusting and cleaning your furniture when the postman knocked on your door. You frown, brushing your pants on the seat of your trousers, and answer the door. 

The letter was short. 

Dearest sister, 

I have received news of your return to Egypt. I would like to have your company at the family estate for dinner to discuss business and your adventures. 

With best regards, 

Mycroft Holmes

A summons to the Holmes family estate that your oldest brother had inherited after your parents retired to the country. You look at the ceiling and groan, eliciting a funny look from the postman. 

This was going to be fun.

As soon as Otis realizes where you are, he tosses his head and tries to turn around. You tug the reins so he faces the right direction and nudge him into a walk down the road.

“Otie, I don’t want to do this either. But I’d rather not have Mikey send special forces after us or something.” You say to Otis, and when you reach the stables, Mycroft’s hired stable hand takes your beloved horse’s reins. “Take good care of him!” You nearly reprimand the stable hand who agrees and welcomes you back with ease. 

The maids welcome you in excitedly when you rap on the massive double doors, and you are ushered upstairs into the dining room. 

Mycroft was seated at the head of the table, where your father would be if he were here, and he stood to greet you. He offers a handshake, but you simply smile warmly and hug him tightly. He may have grated on your nerves, but he was still your brother. Mycroft stiffens and pats your shoulders awkwardly when you step back.

“As awkward as always, I see Mikey.” You said and took a seat at the table next to him like you did when you were kids. He clears his throat and calls for the kitchen staff to bring in the food. 

It wasn’t much, considering there were only two of you. But it was as extravagant as Mycroft always demanded it to be. 

“Would you like to change into dinner attire before we eat, sister dearest?” Mycroft says suddenly, just as you are about to dig into the delicious roast prepared by the staff of the household. You put your fork down and scowl.

“Don’t start with this, Mikey. You know I hate dresses.” You snap, and he raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push the issue. 

At least… he doesn’t until you are done with your meal and in his study, talking about your travels to Egypt. 

You down the rest of your whiskey and set the glass whiskey tumbler on the table between you two. 

“More whiskey?” He offers, and you shake your head.

“I want to be able to ride home after this.” You say and hold in a yawn. The excellent food combined with the fireplace blazing with a crackling fire is lulling you to sleep. 

Suddenly, Mycroft stands and walks in front of the fire, setting his own glass down on the mantle and turning to face you. 

“Might we talk some business?” He inquires, and immediately, your mood sours. 

So this was his end goal? Get you sleepy and drunk so you couldn’t ride home and were subject to his pleadings?

“I don’t want to hear it, Mikey.” You say and stand, holding onto the back of the wingback chair for a moment as the dizziness sets in. 

He scowls, 

“You are of perfect age. The season is just starting. You could still join in and find a potential suitor!” He tries, and you scrub at your face.

“I already told you I wasn’t interested in courting! I’m interested in—”

“Your work, I know. But what happens when the digs dry up and there’s nothing else for you to do? What will you do when you get too old for this?!” He snaps, and you whirl, steadying yourself with the chair as your anger flares. 

“It won’t dry up! There are thousands of years of history still to be discovered! Hundreds of thousands of cities and archaeological finds!” Your voice rises to a shout, and you hear distant footsteps as maids scurry away from you and your brother’s anger. 

This goes on for several minutes until Mycroft a bomb on you. 

“Mother and Father have decided. If you don’t find someone to court, they will no longer fund your excavations, and you’ll be stuck here with me.” 

You freeze, hands wound tightly in your hair, and argument dying on your tongue. 

“B—But that would mean—” Mycroft cuts you off gently and approaches, putting his hands on your shoulders. 

“You’d be stuck here until you find a husband—no more digs. No more artifacts. Not until you do as they and I ask.” Tears well up in your eyes, and you shrug off his hands violently and flee. 

Your boots pound against the hardwood floors, and you run outside where it has started pouring rain. Instantly, your clothes are soaked as you make it to the stables, dress Otis in his saddle and bridle, and swiftly mount his back. He tears out of the stables at a thundering gallop, and the stable hand barely dives out of the way to save himself from being trampled. 

Otis’s hooves dash against the cobblestone roads. You cling to his reins and hunch over his back as tears stream down your face and sobs wrack your body. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Taking away your funding? 

No one wanted to fund a woman on an archaeological dig! 

Much less one as young as yourself! 

You were screwed! Doomed to live as a housewife because that was society’s and your parent’s expectations of you!

Otis eventually comes to a halt, and you dismount, collapsing onto a bench, breathing hard as rain pours down your body. Your shirt sticks to your skin, and your trousers swim in water as you sit in a puddle on the bench. But you can’t bring it in you to care. 

A carriage rumbles to a stop before you, and you look up as the door opens. 

“Might I interest you in some shelter?” Comes a proper and endearing accent that you recognize. 

“William?” You sniffle, and he smiles, extending a hand. 

“If you’ll let him, Fred will handle your horse. How about you step inside the carriage, and we’ll take you back to the Moriarty estate.” He says over the rain. A young man with a blue scarf wrapped around his head gets off the front of the carriage and approaches. You hiccup and nod, handing Otis’s reins to the young man and accepting William’s hand into the carriage. He sheds his overcoat and offers it. 

It’s warm and heavy as you wrap it around your shoulders and sit down. Your boots squelch against the floor, and William knocks twice against the carriage's wall, and it starts moving once again. 

The Morairty estate is even grander than you remember, looming over you as the carriage stops by the front doors. You nearly slip in your haste to get inside and are taken up the stairs to one of the many bedrooms. 

“Draw a bath and get warm. I’ll have some clothes brought by. We can have a talk after you’ve collected yourself.” William says gently, and you nod, taking off his overcoat so he can have it back. He excuses himself, and you are left alone in the suite. 

The bath is nice and hot, and you let out a sigh as you shed your clothes into a pile on the floor and sink into the warm water. Your tears are drying, but your emotions are still raging like a rabid dog inside you.

How could they? 

Didn’t your family know archaeology was your passion? Your dream?! Of course, they did! You never shut up about it when you were but a little girl learning to play the piano! You babbled on and on about fossils and artifacts in between lessons until you were blue in the face!

It wasn’t long until you were done in the bath and dried off. As William had promised, some clothes were left on the bed. A button-down that looked like it might fit you, a pair of trousers that might be a bit too long, and a pair of undergarments. You tugged on the underwear and then the trousers, having to cuff them at the bottom so you didn’t trip. The shirt fit better than you thought so you pinned your hair out of your face and left the bedroom and down the hall. Hadn’t there been a sitting room just down the stairs? 

William was inside, stoking a fire with a poker, his back to you. He stood and turned when you rapped lightly on the entryway. His lips curled in a welcoming smile, and he gestured for you to take a seat. 

“Would you like some tea? I had Louis put the kettle on.” He said, and you nodded, sitting on the couch beside the fire.

“Thank you. For the clothes and… everything else.” You mumble, and he shakes his head,

“Don’t mention it. Sherlock mentioned you hated dresses.” He says and pours you a cup of tea.

It’s delicious. It warms you from the tips of your ears to the ends of your bare toes. You scuff them on the plush carpet as William sits across from you. His scarlet eyes are illuminated like glittering rubies in the oranges and yellows of the fire. They’re alive like a torch resides inside. 

“Now, might I ask why you were out in the rain?” William asks as soon as you’ve settled into your spot. You bite your lip and wonder if you can trust him with your problems. 

Sherlock trusted him well enough… 

Perhaps…

“I got into an argument with Mycroft. He said my parents will cut off my funding for excavations if I don’t find a proper husband.” You blurt, and he hums as he takes a sip from his cup. 

“I assume they’ve been funding your past archaeological escapades?” He says, and you nod.

“Correct. But that is going to change unless I get married.” You grumble, and he cocks his head to the side, setting his cup down on the tea table next to him and seemingly mulling something over. 

“This may be a bit forward, but I have a proposal. A business proposal, if you will.” He starts, and you narrow your eyes. A business proposal? You set your own cup down and cross one leg over the other. 

“Go on…” You say hesitantly, and he clasps his hands together as if working out a problem in his head. Sherlock did say he was a mathematics professor.

“I could marry you.” You inhale sharply and proceed to choke on your saliva. William half gets out of his chair to come to your aid when you finally get your coughing under control. 

“Why?!” You demand, and he shrugs, 

“I’ve done some research into you. You are spearheading the way in new archaeological techniques. You donate your finds back to the locals in need. And frankly, I find you fascinating. If we go ahead with this, you’ll have access to my brother Albert’s influence as well as the Moriarty name and fortune.” He says, and you sit back, stunned. 

“I could continue my work?” You say skeptically, and he nods. 

“Indeed. There’s no reason to stop you. I might ask for a lecture or two from you at Durham University. But that’s it. So…” He extends a hand for you to shake. “Have we reached an accord?”

You are speechless as possibilities run rampant through your brain. You’d be free from your parent’s influence as well as pleasing them. Though pleasing them was the last thing on your mind. Yes, you’d be married. But like William said… it was more of a business proposal…

You reach forward and shake his hand. His smile widens marginally as you speak,

“I accept your proposal.”

[kanroji-san]

Obanai!Y/n/Reader AU

Mycroft: *Throws open door*

Mycroft: So you two ARE having sex!

Obanai!Y/n and Sherlock: *Innocently lying around and reading*

Obanai!Y/n: We are? Sherlie, why didn’t you tell me? I would have put my book down.

[deepfivetraveller]

The textile syndicate

This story is a request and it won't feel as inclusive, since readers nationality is Indian. With that said, if you still want read this have fun :D

You instruct your servants the moment you get out of the carriage. “Alright everyone, unload everything.” They instantly take out all the wooden boxes, many of them adorned with intricate designs. You take one look at the garments inside  and give them a nod of approval.

‘Why did these Britishers hire me of all people? Surely they could find someone better’ You ponder.

But there is no time to waste. The grand Moriarty manor stands right in front of you. As you take a deep breath in, you put your right foot forward, officially entering the manor

“Moneypenny, do you want any style in particular?” Albert chimes. “Thank you for your concern, but I don’t know a thing about sarees.” With that, she crushes his chance for a conversation. To further show her discontent she puts a biscuit in her mouth, an indication she doesn’t want to talk further.

“Ah.” He grows silent. Albert doesn’t blame her for this behaviour. A mission to India takes at least two months of transport time. Obviously no person wishes to be trapped in a wooden hulled ship for that long. He quickly turns to William. “Brother, why did you call her out of all the saree producers?”

“Uhh…” William puts down his teacup. “No particular reason.” Albert’s eyebrows cross at his response.

“And you expect me to believe that lie? Please dear brother.” It was quite a peculiar situation, seeing the earl pout.

“There’s nothing to it really. Saree is an Indian garment, She’s Indian. Plus, she is the daughter of a well educated businessman.” He grabs a mini sandwich from the tiered cake stand

His reason was technically true. William put a lot of effort in finding you. After all, you’re a part of their mission. Y/n L/n hailed from a town called Kanchipuram, the Silk City of India. She had also spend 5 years of her teenage life in Dhaka, India, which is known for creating a very important fabric, Important because it plays a part in their mission.

“She’s here” Louis pops out of the doorframe of the tea room. “Great! Let's get to it.” With Albert’s command, the other two rise up.

Talking to your clients didn’t seem quite hard but what throws you off is the blonde man with the scar staring at you constantly. Although he has been helping your servants with the boxes, anytime this happens you start to talk with the other blonde haired red eyed man in the room.

“If it’s alright, may I ask why you want to purchase a saree in the first place? England's weather is not suitable for this in the first place.” A question lingers.

“My assistant is going to Calcutta on my behalf for a business trip. She would be attending a party behesting myself, so we thought it would be a nice idea to buy one.” Albert straightens up.

“Hmm…In that case I don’t think you should buy any of these sarees.”

This sentence rattles Moneypenny. “Why not?” She retorts a bit aggressively. ‘So all that browsing was for nothing?’ She thought. “You would be visiting a North-Indian household. My sarees are made in a south Indian style.”

That’s a good excuse. Truth to be told, you don’t want to sell your sarees to them. The Indians and nobles with no ties to the government have been your primary clients for…that fabric. Exposure of your work to high standing Britishers might scare your actual customers away.

“But Ms.L/n, you do have North-Indian styles in your inventory.” William speaks up. “Uhm I don’t.” You’re confused.

“Yes you do.”

“But I don’t???”

“Then what about the Dhakha Muslin?”

Oh no.

“The illegal fabric?” Moneypenny jumps from her seat.

Dhaka Muslin, an Indian made fabric banned by Britishers. Throughout history many famous figurines such as Marie Antoinette, Joséphine Bonaparte and even Jane Austen have worn and loved this Muslin. After colonisation, Dhaka Muslin became popular among female nobles, as it was a status symbol. However they didn’t know how to layer it properly. Dhaka Muslin is a transparent fabric, so thin some say it’s woven out of air. Without proper layering and pleating, wearing it can make you look naked. Thus, it was banned by Britishers. Weavers were forced to make garments out of cheaper fabric to get food on their table and cheap fabrics of England replaced this one quickly. All methods of reviving this fabric were almost gone until your father invested in the business. Even after being banned, the demand for the fabric still exists.

“This should get interesting.” Albert perks up.

“Excuse me Mr Moriarty but these are nothing but faulty accusations—” “Then what about this?” William shows you a piece of paper. A paper containing all the transactions with you and your previous clients. Worst of all, it’s written in your handwriting and has your signature.

Anger and fear blossoms upon your face.You knew it was a bad idea to be related to them. You knew Albert had ties with the military and yet you willingly signed up to this.

“Don’t worry Ms.Y/n, I don’t plan on showing this to the police.” Albert chums up.

What?

“Well that is if you comply.” William smiles and takes out a checkbook and a pen. “Dhaka Muslin is a highly sought after fabric in the black market.” He turns to his brother. “Did you know brother, it takes almost 16 steps to create it.” William continues writing. “That’s quite high.”

“Which is precisely why it’s hard to make. Even the cotton for it can only be grown on a specific land.” He looks at you.

“Overflood the market.” He swiftly tears off the check and hands it to you. “What are you planning?” You glare. “That is our business, you are in no place to ask for that. Should we want to reveal it, you’d know then.” Albert gets up from his seat and towers you. “We give you five months time to prepare and sell. If anything money related troubles you, call us.”

“Uh Lord Albert what about my saree?” Moneypenny looks up at the brothers as if nothing happened. “Just wear a gown. The party is hosted by an Englishman anyway” With that they leave the room, leaving you alone with the lady. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t even know they were planning something.” She gets going too.

“I should have expected this.” You drop the files on the table, creating a loud bang. Three months have passed by but you still don’t know why they’re doing this. The only reason you’re able to stand them is because of the pay. They’ve even overpaid you in some cases. But maybe, that should have been your second warning, another reminder to escape England. Today, Lord Albert Moriarty directly came to where the fabrics arrived and informed you the operation has to be done within a few weeks. You argued, bitterly, even shouting a few curse words in your mother tongue but his decision was final.

It’s odd timing that at the very same moment hundreds of buyers emerged for the muslin. From old-money manors to local tailors, everyone wants this fabric now. Police investigations have increased, leaving buyers at risk, but they still order.

“So much paperwork…” You mumble. This isn’t the time to complain. You grab a pen and start filling out the papers. Half an hour goes by and you can already feel the dark circles coming in. 

“A break would help you, you know?” Your head turns in a flash and your eyes lock in contact with the blonde man.

“L-Lord William! S-Sorry for the mess, please, do sit.” Your hands grab onto all the paper on the table and quickly arrange them. “Please, Liam is just fine.” William moves, standing opposite to you.

He had visited you a multitude of times in your office. Once when you expressed your displeasure to plain English tea, he brought some chinese tea cakes to try out. Ehne you both tried it the concentration of the brew from said tea leaves of cake was so strong, both of you spat it out. Ever since then, the two of you have become very attached to each other.

He stared at you for a few seconds. “Your hair.” He briskly pressed his fingers on top of your head, smoothening the abrasive hair. You quickly use both your palms to flatten it out. “Pardon me.”

“No, pardon me. That was very rude.” He looks to the ground and quickly pulls out a box. “For you.” he shys away.

Inside it was a luminous golden ring. “A Vanki ring.” You immediately pick it up. A Vanki ring is a ‘V’ shaped ring usually worn by daughters of high priests or kings. “A retired Colonel named Moran told me Indian women commonly wear gold jewelry so…there it is.” His mouth turns into a straight line. You figured gift giving was William’s way of showing love but this was beyond what you expected. Vanki rings are not commonly known jewelry and finding a goldsmith in Britain to craft one is even harder….

He actually looks kinda cute.

“I know my brother's demands seem unfair, but time is really not on our side. And I know, you’re still quite clueless on why this is happening to you.” Your eyes still linger on the red gemstones. “We don’t mean anything bad, w-well the true reason is—” William goes silent.

“Why are you wearing it there?” He almost pales from shock. “Wear the ring where?” “on your ring finger!” He panics. “Vanki rings are usually worn on the ring finger. Plus, why did you Englishmen name it the ring finger if its purpose wasn’t for holding a ring?”

“That—UGH!” He covers his face with his palm, trying to hide his blush. “In England we wear a ring on that finger to signify…”William’s voice trails off.

“To signify what?”

“NOTHING. Good day.” With that , he slams the door to your office and leaves.

“My little brother did what?” Albert chuckles. “Yes! And he didn’t even give me a proper reason. what does wearing a ring on the ring finger mean anyway?”

“Nothing of importance.” Albert smiles calmly. “Please forgive William, he doesn’t mean bad.”

It’s the day before you sell all your fabrics to the people. Only one more day before you cut ties with these gentlemen. Albert had invited you to discuss plans but it suddenly turned to him drinking wine. “Why not try some?” He shows you a bottle. “It’s vintage.”

“Oh no no.” You apologise. “I don’t drink.”

“Scared of some dried grape juice?”

“Well alcohol addiction does run in my family so yes.” You lean back. “I don’t think I can convince you any further.” He puts down the bottle. “Are you sure? About the alcohol addiction.”

“Oh yes very much. My father had it. It’s the main reason why I’m in England.” This peaks his curiosity.Albert waits for you to give him an answer.

“My father was a great man.” you slid back further. “He loved my mother, he loved me…He always made sure to put us first before anything.” Your eyes lingered on the wine glass. “When my relatives pestered on marrying me early, he was the one who stood up against them and gave me an education. Father taught me all there is to his business. No one could argue that he wasn’t a good businessman but…” Your voice lowered.

“But what?” Albert took a sip. “But he was casteist. You see, I come from a line of priests. In India, people would call me a ‘brahmin’. In my country, being a brahmin has a higher status than that of a king. He did believe our family were somewhat spiritually higher but he never discriminated against anyone until he took alcohol. I don’t know what exactly happened to his mind.”

“He mistreated our servants and the weavers working for us, calling them ‘untouchables’, giving customers different rates according to their birth and whatnot.” You sighed. “Even my mother had enough of him. Fights occurred a lot in the family ever since then.” Your voice hitched at the end.

“Then my mother left. She couldn’t handle him anymore.” You blinked rapidly to avoid tears. Albert noticed this and was ready to change the topic but you continued. “I wanted to leave him. But I didn’t have anything for myself. No money, no name. I was this close to giving up.” You gulped your saliva.

“Then I remembered I was one of the few people in my family who knew how to read and write English. I was also responsible for writing up contracts and had spare copies of everything. I even had the records of the illegal transactions. Being such a large amount, I took the files directly to the British officials in Dhaka. My father was arrested and the officers were very pleased with my confession. They decided to pardon me even though I was involved in the business. The officers gave me a heap of cash and told me to start a life anew. But, I just couldn’t leave the weavers. They were completely dependent on my father, that’s why they tolerated him in the first place. So I took the risk, hired them under me, set up a new area for business and came to England in the name of ‘expanding my business’. ” You close your eyes and lay back your head after the confession. No wonder why you were frightened to the core when William showed your records. You thought Karma caught up and was about to do the same thing you did to your dad. 

“I’m sorry for being emotional.” All you could do was stare down in shame.You told everything to a man you truly don’t know. You didn’t want to know what he was thinking of you at the moment. You were so caught up in ranting, you weren’t even sure you narrated the events correctly.

“No I’m sorry for making you talk about this…” SIlence suffocated the room. 

“You and I…Are not so different.” He smiles. “My father was a little like yours.” “Really?” “Yes. But minus the ‘great’ part and the ‘loving my mother’. Everything else is just the same.”

“Oh.” A small sound just left your lips. “I too did something drastic in order to get away from him.” You finally turn up your head to see him, and was greeted by something shocking. His eyes were red. So were his under eyes. He cried.

“Do you regret it?” You asked hesitantly. “Not much. But I wish he were a better man. It wouldn’t have come down to that if he had respected my wishes.”

Tranquility filled the room again. Abruptly Albert got up. “How about we go horse riding? That should ease both our minds.” 

“In the middle of the night?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Why not? Unconventional times always lead to great discoveries.” He grinned. 

“Come on then.” He holds out his hand for you to grab.

The stable was devoid of any person, field with nothing but hay and horses. “Why don’t we ride this one?” He points the black horse.

“Oh it’s alright I know how to ride horses, no need to go on the same one.” You look around. “I’ll ride the brown one.” You point at it.

“...Very well then.” Albert was disappointed. He takes out both of the horses. 

The blades of grass shimmer dimly at the moonlight. The wind blows cold, causing goosebumps around your arms even with a coat. Albert assists you in climbing your horse and climbs his with ease.

“I’m guessing your father used to take you on rides?” You nod to his question.

Both of you do a swift flick on the reins and the horses are out running. The seemingly cold wind feels warm to Albert after he hears your giggles.

As you further go down the field, the horse starts to go faster. Unbeknownst to you, the horse wasn’t properly trained. At one point you pull on its rein to stop it, but the untrained animal runs faster instead. It starts to jump, trying to push you off its back. Albert wasted no time to rush to your aid. “Y/n!!”

You try with all your might to stay on it, but finally it pushes you off, leaving you tumbling to the ground.

“Y/n!” He screams at the top of his lungs. At a panic, he tries to get off the horse while its moving, stumbling while running towards you. “Oh my goodness, are you alright?” You blink rapidly, seeing two versions of Albert.

“Can you hear me? Oh dear lord.” He quickly removes one of his gloves. “Forgive me for touching you without gloves but we must put your health above your reputation.” Albert uses his two fingers to check your pulse on your throat.

“You don’t seem injured in any manner but…Let’s get you a doctor.” Within a split second he lifts you up with ease, carrying you back to the manor.

“Is your ankle fine?” William passes you a slice of cake. You softly touch over the bandages of your leg. “It’s better than before.” You smile.

The mission was completed successfully. Apparently the reason why they needed to overflow the market was because a nobleman used slaves to enlargen his fabric empire. Your marketing had given them enough time to corner him to ‘settle the dispute’. You did want to ask why they did this but seeing the fact that they had money and power to take down such an elite man, you don’t think its best to ask. Infact, you feel queasy interacting with them now.

“Ms. Y/n.” Albert calls you. “You seem to be very passionate about reviving the fabric of your nation. Why don’t we continue this deal further? Let’s talk about this at dinner… just the two of us.” He tries to avoid eye contact.

You’re still oblivious to his advances. “Oh no thank you, I—”

“NO!” William shouts with unyielding determination. This situation was very unpleasant and unprecedented. Never did William guess that his own brother would be in love with his love. 

He has to do something now.

“Brother this is not possible…” He replies sternly. After regaining his composite he continues. “...Because I’ve already invested in her ‘business’.” 

“Oh and tell me, by what means did you ‘invest?”  His usually monotone voice takes a mocking turn.

William almost wants to laugh at his brother's behaviour. He had never seen him being so childish. “By using this” He gently picks up your hand and shows him the ring.

“I’ve heard Indian women wear gold as an investment.” He continues. “And I say, this is quite a steep investment.” He looks at his brother slyly.

“A ring on the finger means nothing if the other doesn’t understand its true meaning. ” He spat. “Besides, if you’re really ‘married’ to her, have you initiated anything???? Me and Y/n have already went horse riding…as spouses do.” He smirked.

Marriage??? They were trying to court you?

“Y/n.” Both of them call you at the same time.

Whom do you choose? 

#William#

#Albert#

#???????#

#?!?!?!!?!?#

[kougiri]

Masterlist

※ℬ𝓊𝓃𝑔𝑜𝓊 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓎 𝒟𝑜𝑔𝓈

ɴsғᴡ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ[ᴊᴏᴜɴᴏ sᴀɪɢɪᴋᴜ x ᴅᴏᴍ ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʜᴀɴᴅʟᴇ ɪᴛ, ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢ. ɴᴏ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴍᴘʀᴇss ᴍᴇ.[ғʏᴏᴅᴏʀ ᴅᴏsᴛᴏᴇᴠsᴋʏ x sᴜʙ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] sғᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ɴsғᴡ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛᴇᴛᴄʜᴏᴜ. ᴡʜʏ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴇᴇʟ?[ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ᴅᴏᴍ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ɪ’ᴍ ᴀ ᴅɪsᴇᴀsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ʀɪᴅ ᴏғ.[ғʏᴏᴅᴏʀ ᴅᴏsᴛᴏᴇᴠsᴋʏ x ᴅᴏᴍ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏsᴛ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ? ʟᴇᴛ’s ʀᴇsᴛᴀʀᴛ ɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇɴ.[ғʏᴏᴅᴏʀ ᴅᴏsᴛᴏᴇᴠsᴋʏ x ᴅᴏᴍ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ʙᴇ ᴘᴀᴛɪᴇɴᴛ, ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴɢ. ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ɪs sᴛɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ᴀғᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟ.[ʙsᴅ x sᴜʙ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

sғᴡ ʀᴇᴜɴɪᴛᴇᴅ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ[ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] sᴜɢᴀʀ ʀᴜsʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴs[ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ ᴇᴅᴏɢᴀᴡᴀ x ʀɪᴄʜ ᴋɪᴛsᴜɴᴇ ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ғɪʀsᴛ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀɴɢᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴs[ᴀᴅᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ, ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ[ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ ᴇᴅᴏɢᴀᴡᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ɪ’ᴠᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍʏ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs ᴡɪɴ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ[ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ ᴇᴅᴏɢᴀᴡᴀ x ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴘᴀʀʀɪɴɢ ʙᴇɢɪɴ![ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ ᴇᴅᴏɢᴀᴡᴀ x ʀɪᴄʜ ᴋɪᴛsᴜɴᴇ ᴍᴀʟᴇʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ)ʏᴏsᴀɴᴏ ᴀᴋɪᴋᴏ)]

※𝒥𝑜𝒿𝑜'𝓈 ℬ𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒜𝒹𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒

ɴsғᴡ sᴀʏ ɪᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ᴀᴍᴏʀᴇ.[ɢɪᴏʀɴᴏ ɢɪᴏᴠᴀɴɴᴀ x ᴅᴏᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴊᴜsᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.[ᴍɪsᴛᴀ ɢᴜɪᴅᴏ x ᴅᴏᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] sғᴡ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇ ᴀɴʏᴡᴀʏs[ᴀʙʙᴀᴄᴄʜɪᴏ ʟᴇᴏɴᴇ x ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ɪ'ʟʟ ɢᴇᴛ ʀɪᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɴᴏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ[ᴛʀɪsʜ ᴜɴᴀ x ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ, ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ.[ɢɪᴏʀɴᴏ ɢɪᴏᴠᴀɴɴᴀ x ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴏᴠᴇʀɢʀᴏᴡɴ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇɴ[ɢɪᴏʀɴᴏ ɢɪᴏᴠᴀɴɴᴀ x ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ʏɪᴘᴇᴇ[ᴛɪᴢɪᴀɴᴏ x ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x sǫᴜᴀʟᴏ]

※ℒ𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓂/𝒱𝒾𝓇𝒶𝓁 ℋ𝒾𝓉

※ℳ𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓎 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒫𝒶𝓉𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓉

sғᴡ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏғ ᴜs ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍ ᴊᴀᴍᴇs [ᴍᴏʀɪᴀʀᴛʏ x ғᴏʀᴇɪɢɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴡɪᴘ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ sɪsᴛᴇʀ~ [ ᴍᴏʀ ɪᴀʀᴛʏ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀs ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ!] ᴡɪᴘ

※𝒪𝒷𝑒𝓎 𝓂𝑒! 𝒮𝒽𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓌𝑒 𝒹𝒶𝓉𝑒?

[kanroji-san]

Guys please read this!!! This Author is so talented and their writing is the best!!!

If someone is still into Moriarty the patriot I suggest to go there.

Hi!!! It's me again. Thank you again for taking my request with Lisa!Reader. Like... It really made me speechless.

And if you don't mind can you take my request with Yan!Mtp but with Obanai Iguro! Reader? But this I time I want only William and Sherlock.

Like I want it to be William x Reader x Sherlock. Reader is a detective along side with Sherlock. And William meet Reader on the ship with Sherlock and take an interest in them. And maybe you could make the part how they found about Reader's scar and past?

IT was my pleasure writing it, Yes, of course, i hope You enjoy it! And thank You for The compliments, they mean a lot to me coming from you!

Iguro obanai! Reader x Yan! William x Yan! Sherlock

Tw : yandere, stalking, invasion of privacy, death, blood, Gore mention

---------------------------------------------------

Sherlock still remembers the day that he first met reader, the misterious woman was, much to his dismay at that time, thrown in his arms by the Scotland yard, that wanted her to be trained by him, so that they don't have to call for Sherlock everytime they can't deal with a case.

So, for The time being, John was the one to accept You inside, which You nodded at, making a small mental note to thank him.

And thus, You started living with them both.

I am more than sure that at first, Sherlock would pretty much, try to ignore You, not that You were too bothered, You were a fast learner, which he somehow apreciated, as he hates to explain things, and was thankfull You caught things fast. (sometimes he forgets You have a real snake that You carry everywhere, and jumps a little when it hisses out of the blue) But also, he would be a bitch at first, making fun of you, or making You read tiny notes, after finding out You were blind in one eye.

As a Detective, he was courious, it was in his nature to wander about things, and of course, your covered mouth was one of those things. He tried persuating and pulling, which both failed, as even if smaller in size than him, You knew how to block him and avoid him. John started getting in the way (when kaburamaru wasn't enough) too, making sure that Sherlock doesn't step too much on your toes.

I think that's where his obbsesion would start. I mean, You would be really gratefull for John, and would show it often with gifts and food prepared for him, and that annoyed him, it annoyed him that between the two of them, You were getting closer to John. I mean, he got used to You being his shadow, not talking much and observing him in action, it's like You were always there, and he felt that, for now, that was a way of keeping You close.

But John had to get in the way! The oh so charming man, that ladies seem to love, nah ah, You were to smart for that, too smart to like someone like John...

... Right?

Yes, You know what... Let John... Not join this mission... Let's not tell John of where we are going... John, oh no, he doesn't know where John is.

John? Where is John? Oh no, his dear best friend got lost or kiddnapped! Don't worry, his darling, togheter You will bond-i mean, togheter You will find him and bring him home safly.

IT annoyed him, but he had to wait, he had to watch You worried, but at the same time, You two patroled the whole City togheter, him sometimes having to drag You home to make sure eyou don't end up exhausting yourself... That many stares... The many whispers... Making rumours... Him paying the children to make rumours of you two dating...

... Oh come on, forget about John a little, i know what Will cheer You up!

And that's how You ended up on the noahtic togheter (his plan was that if You two were seen in such a place toghter, people would really start to believe that the rumours of you two being toghter are true... And he'd have You all to himself)

When the ladies started to suround him, You were not very far behind him, but in a more secluded area. He started guessing (trying to imprese You) and that's when he reached the blond mathematican...

... Who was already staring at You, nodding to himself. The ladies rushes from Sherlock the William, and following his gaze, Sherlock reached to grab You. Which was followed by some protests from you (that fell on deaf ears, of course)

While the ladies talked, William couldn't stop looking at you...

He read all of the people so easily... Why are You difrent from them... Why are You an enigma.. One, that as a math professor, he can't help but EARN to understand.

He reaches a hand, more to You, but sherlock moving in front of You, shooks it instead. That intrigued William more.

Later, William's plan is dilayed for now, on the reason that he found something more interesting... Of course he stages everything, but at the same time, he circles You two, when the time for The restaurant comes, i think he would notice things about You, not that he had eyes for anyone else that whole night.

For him, it looked like, at first, that You and sherlock were on very good terms, even togheter maybe, but then he noticed the side glances You had, the snarky remarks You do at his adress, how You insist to do read the menu yourself but he doesn't let You. Oh, the Detective was smart, making it look like You were a very snarky couple, but he was more perceptive than that.

He saw the way You groaned, the way You... Put a piece of meat in your sleve...?... Ah, there's a snake... Haha, You were a breath of fresh air, You knew that?

So unique, so unbothered by the social norms... Everyone should be like You. Instead, they whisper behind your back, and some even in front of You!

How could You be so unbothered when this creatures that need to punished!

After that it won't be long untill he asks for sherlock's presence to proposed something... To propose sharing You

"what?! Mate, if You think i'll let you just interwine with my life and my partner's, You are clearly mistaken-"

"You have no oficial status for her, You are just a nuinsance most of the time, she could slither under You and You will never see her... Now listen to me, i can stop that, she can't outrun us both"

Sherlock agree, moving to the moriarty manor.

IT was annoying, annoying how You three had to share a room because the other room were not ready

Annoying how the whole house treated You like You were the queen

Annoying how the moriarty brothers, Louis and Albert, are looking at you as if You are a sister in law for them. It was annoying that they were asking questions about your past, annoying that they tried to take your snake away, annoying that they interwined, at least one of them, in your training.

On the other hand, William and Sherlock were plotting, it's clear that they need to stay closer to You, they want to know you better, to make You trust them and tell them everything that had happened to You.

But You were so locked in yourself... They grew impatient...

The plan to sit in one room was so that if they came inside it, You wouldn't imediatly wake up from hearing them.

The plan to take a little care of kaburamaru was to just catch it and lock it somewhere to not interwine.

And of course, the training was just an excuse to see how much force they need to use to hold You down, so that they can pull of the bandages...

And when they do, William, the man that hates crying, sheds tears while holding You as You trash around to cover your face.

You were so beautifull, how much of a fool he was to think that You weren't scared by the cruel world already.

Sherlock went balistic, and soon, William followed too, they NEED names, You NEED to tell them everything, everything, so that they can restore your honour, so that You can see just how much they care for You...

Of course... After seeing that scar... I hope You said your goodbye to freedoom, cause in no way Will they let You walk around without them agaim

[theweepingangelofcas]

Pip pip from your friendly neighbourhood lurker, I saw your requests are open and so I shall request my fluffy little idea to you dear writer and I hope you find just as funny and sweet as I did.

So for my request for the mtp bois basically on TikTok I saw a vid where a gf found her bf sleeping on the soft and decided to prank him by setting up a fake game of uno (but you can choose a different board game/card game if you want) once set up she starts shaking him awake and telling him its his turn obviously confused and half asleep but still takes his turn.

I don’t have any pacifically for this request so I’m leaving up to you to choose who would be best for this scenario.

From yours truly,

Your friendly neighbourhood lurker 

Hello, Friendly Neighborhood Lurker! For your ask, I decided on a few things on my own. Sadly, I don't believe uno existed during the Victorian era, so I opted for chess instead (a game I am absolute trash at, but shall write about it nonetheless). I also decided that William and Sherlock would be the most likely to fall asleep on the sofa during a busy day, so they will be our victims lol

***********************

My Turn? - Moriarty Boys x Reader

William Moriarty

Your poor William had been working himself to death lately.

Between the long days of teaching, long evenings of grading papers, and long nights of committing acts of violence, it was a miracle he ever got any sleep.

So when he finally fell into a deep slumber on the sofa one lazy morning, you knew now was the perfect time to spring your trap.

William awoke to the realization of a few things. 1. There was fresh tea brewing beside him. Earl grey, as far as he could tell. 2. You were sitting beside him. The floral notes of your favorite perfume was unmistakeable. 3. You were calling to him. Gently, lovingly. It brought him out of his slumber in the most lovely way he could imagine. His eyes opened sluggishly, turning his head to look over at you. "Yes, y/n? What is it?" He yawned, trying to focus on your words. You giggled, "It's your turn, William." He realized what you were talking about. There was a chessboard in front of you, set up next to said previously mentioned tea. The table between you two held snacks as well, set up like one of your usual game nights. He observed the board, before chuckling himself, "I can assure you, my dear, I am not the one who placed these pieces. But, to humor you..." He picked up a pawn, using it to behead one of your knights. Another laugh, "Why do you say that, Will? We were playing, and you must've been so tired you dozed off-" "This board is set up to a Stafford's gambit. Though I am no great chess player, even I know that this is a poor choice of plays." You finally released your laughter, trying to scoff it down to no avail, "And here I was, dear, hoping I had finally tricked you." Finally, he sat up. leaning across the table to give you a peck on the cheek. "Mm. Maybe one day, my sweet girl. Maybe one day."

Sherlock Holmes

This man is the most manic creature ever created by fiction, do you think he sleeps on a regular basis?

He's too smart to fall for your tricks after just one nap, which is why you waited for a much different occurance to happen...

You waited til he was coming back from a case.

"Dove?!" He was elated. His latest case had truly been genius. A devious crime scene, a truly mad perpetrator, everything he could have wanted! Even a headless nun! He simply had to tell you, his beloved partner of 2 years, all about it! "I'm over here where you left me, Lock!" He ran to you, bounding over heaps of books that he had looked through earlier, before joining you on the ragged sofa. In front of you was a chessboard, still in the early few plays. "Did John play a few games with you? Goodness knows that man is rubbish at chess. He should stick to being a doctor." You laughed, placing your hand on his knee, "No, dear, remember? We were just starting our game when Lestrade barged in and asked for your help." His face fell, trying to recall the events earlier that day. Truly, he couldn't recall too much besides following Lestrade out the door. A guilty look marred his face, "Dove, I am so sorry. I don't even remember. The case, it took up so much of my mind..." He looked over to you. Normally, he would have expected you to look sad. Disappointed, maybe. Instead, you had a smile. He took an extra second to observe the layout in front of him. Those were not any type of moves he would have played. He pinched your arm, and you squealed, "Liar. Good one, though. You almost got me." A kiss on your cheek, and he picked up one of your bishops off of the board. "Now, let me tell you about the headless nun."

[ranposbabe]

(Ongoing) Masterlist

Delightful | William James Moriarty x Reader

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

To be continued…

[maidensveil]

"Sweets"

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑/𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐍: Louis James Moriarty

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: fluff

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒: she/they

𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑: baker!reader, fem

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: none [if there are, please do let me know]

William decided that he and his brothers to take a break after long days of work. They all were free to do on whatever they felt like doing.

Louis, however, just didn't know what to do. He wasn't that used to breaks. So he just spends his time cooking or running around doing errands.

"you really should take a break, Louis." Albert, his older brother suggested. "Yes you should Louis. It wouldn't hurt to rest even for a short period of time.” Said William.

“No, i’m quite fine. Its alright, you two dont really have to worry about me. I just feel the need to help around.”

The two did not respond but just gave each other looks before turning to their youngest brother, who opened the door which led to outside.

“I’ll just go and buy groceries.” Louis bid both of them farewell before exiting their home.

Louis did see a new bakery around the corner, so why not take a quick visit?

the sound of the bell that was just right above the entrance of the door chimed, signaling his arrival. The place was filled with the aroma of different types of sweets and pastries.

“Goodmorning good sir, how may i be of help today?” A beautiful lady, probably in her early or mid-twenties greeted him with glee. Oh and, Louis could not most certainly lie, the gorgeous woman before him was really enchanting to the eyes.

“O—oh, well um.. I was just merely walking around and couldn’t help but notice this new establishment.” He quickly answered, not wanting to make a fool out of himself.

“Oh, I see. Why dont you take a look at these pastries, maybe you’ll find one you’ll like?” She offered with a smile. “Oh, sure.”

Well, who could’ve had thought that ‘taking a quick visit to the bakery’ would’ve ended up taking longer than usual all because Louis had taken a fancy to one of the bakers?

Louis mouth curved a bit upwards when he heard [F/N] chuckle. “Do you mind if we meet up again? Well, if you’re not busy that is.” “I wouldnt mind. However, i’ll just check if i have the time too.”

[F/N] eyed the clock at the corner of the room. “Oh right.. i still have work to do. You should get going now, your brothers may be waiting for you?” She grinned.

“ah, right.” He said, snapping out of it. She giggled. “Zoning out again?” She sighed. “It was fun talking to you, Mr. Moriarty.”

“No need for last name basis, Ms. [L/N].”, said Louis. “Please just call me Louis.”

“alright, if that is how it’s gonna be, then just call me [F/N].” She smiled probably for the 100th time that day. He was certainly an interesting customer to say the most.

Louis left the bakery and returned to his home, with of course, few things he’s bought in order nit to draw suspicion from his older brothers.

His chest still beating.

..beating? Was beating that fast that whole time? Oh well, it doesnt matter now that Louis made a new acquaintance.

bonus ;

“Had fun at the bakery, Louis?” Albert playfully teased his brother. “B-brother?” Louis widened his eyes a bit, slightly confused and suprised, yet he knew this was coming.

“I see you had fun at the bakery, Louis. I dont entirely blame you though, she is quite a lovely lady.” Said William. “Just so you know, you both have my consent to your marriage.” Albert chuckled.

“brother!!”

ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏғʀᴇᴀᴅ

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪs ʙʟᴏɢ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ @aoizaraka . ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴀɴʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪɴsᴘɪʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ/ʀᴇғᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇs ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ.

ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ © 2023

[giggly-squiggily]

Can I get a moriarty the patriot x reader with William for be my valentine 🩷 Focused on ribs

Thank you thank you

{Candy Heart Prompts: OFFICIALLY CLOSED!}

AHH! *happy dances in MTP* God I've been craving ler!William; this was an absolute blast to write! I've gotcha covered, friend! :D

Be My Valentine: "I know all your weaknesses!"

“Physical ability?”

“I’ve been trained by the best.”

“Hm..any fears?”

“None that I can recall.”

“Really, Liam?”

“...Besides those wretched things.” William added with a small groan, making you laugh against his chest. “Besides that, none I can think of.”

“None at all, eh? Impressive. Well- besides caterpillars.” You giggled, laughing more when he hummed in mild irritation. “I suppose even the Lord of Crimes himself has a weakness.”

“I suppose he does- but I wouldn’t be so quick to laugh, (Y/N).” He shifted some, his hands coming to your sides and resting on your lower ribs. “I know all your weaknesses.”

“Wahhait, wahhahahhahahait!” You squealed when he suddenly pressed in, prodding along the spaces between each bone and sending ticklish waves across your skin. “Wihihiihiihliahhahham, pleahhahahhahse!”

“Giving up already? My, what a terrible spot this is.” He cooed down at you, slowly walking his fingers up your sides with deadly precision; gently scratching along your ribcage as you squealed and laughed beneath him. “You know- one of my strengths is being a mathematician; let me show you- one…two…three…”

“Nahahhahahahahhahahaha!” You cried out as he began to count your ribs, drawing out each number with a prolonged scritch. “Wihihihihihihliihihihihaahhahaham!”

“Hm..forgive me, while my math is good, I’m not entirely familiar with anatomy. How many ribs do we have again? 12? 24? Oh, I lost count.” Willam tsked, bringing his hands back to your bottom set once more. “Let me start again; one…two…three…”

There wasn’t much you could do besides take it, laughing and cackling when he “forgot” once more- drilling into a terrible spot somewhere along the middle set. “LIHIIHHIIAHAHHAM PLEAHHAHHAHSE!”

“Heh, I suppose I should let you go.” The blonde stopped at last, leaving you gasping for air as William ran a soothing hand along your back. “Thank you for indulging me, (Y/N).”

You only groaned, pressing your face into his chest once more as you swore to yourself you’d have your vengeance.

[sophistication-as]

SEX ON FIRE 🔥 WILLIAM JAMES MORIARTY X F!READER

CAR SEX WITH YOUR BEST FRIEND

❤️‍🔥🌡️all rights reserved to the artist @ogata69 on twitter (x)

❤️‍🔥🌡️inspired by the king of leon's song, sex on fire

❤️‍🔥🌡️wc: 4.5 k

❤️‍🔥🌡️contains sexual tension, pussy eating, sex (p in v), edging, unprotected sex, pull out method, mutual pining and cursing

❤️‍🔥🌡️thank you all for the support, especially @elicypher and @ayaswrld

edit: i am still traveling, so if you want a continuation, please tell me (i've not completely finished it correctly). sorry if it's not my best work 😭

The rush of velocity coursed through your veins, matching the pulse of the city lights streaking past. Driving at night always felt different—there was an undeniable thrill to it, a spark that broke through the monotony, offering an exhilarating contrast to the otherwise predictable routine of your life.

The car glided through winding roads, past blurred signs and landmarks, each one a marker of a potential destination for some distant future. Tonight, though, the journey wasn’t about where you were headed, but about surrendering to the soft pull of the past. A fleeting sense of nostalgia washed over you, dragging your thoughts back to childhood. You remembered sitting in the passenger seat, watching adult hands move gracefully over the gearshift. Back then, freedom had felt like a distant promise, carried on the hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of practiced fingers.

Now, you were the one at the wheel, your gaze locked on the road ahead. The city had dissolved behind you, leaving only the open countryside, the outline of a secluded manor just visible on the horizon. But even with the adventure unfolding before you, something felt off. Like a gap that you couldn’t quite fill.

The soundtrack.

Your eyes flicked sideways, catching a glimpse of William’s profile, half-illuminated by the passing neon glow. His expression was focused, lips tugging into that mischievous smile of his. There was a silent contest between you, one neither of you had fully acknowledged yet. Would it be his soulful classics, or your less-than-subtle dad playlist that would define this moment?

"Let me guess," he broke the silence, voice teasing but soft. "You want something dramatic."

A laugh escaped you, breaking the tension, but your hand was already reaching for the console. "Only if it fits the mood."

"Keep driving," he replied, his fingers dancing over the screen. "I’ll find something you’ll like."

The hum of the car filled the air, the steady rhythm matching your pulse as you focused back on the road. The traffic was light, but the hours ahead would stretch into the quiet of the night before you reached your destination. William had suggested this trip—a blend of relaxation and intellectual curiosity. The Lake District’s ties to Romantic poets intrigued you both, and you were both curious about rare manuscripts housed in a private collection near the estate.

You were reluctant to take a break. You and William were always so caught up in your work, but maybe this would give you both the pause you needed. Yet, as the city lights faded behind you, and the peaceful countryside opened up before you, there was something about the sudden shift that made you question if you were being impulsive—or if William had more influence over you than you cared to admit.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed his calm concentration as he scrolled through the playlist. His golden hair, darker in the dim light, tousled slightly—a rare but not unexpected sight. With one hand steady on the wheel, you grabbed his water bottle from the compartment and took a quick sip.

"You could’ve told me you were thirsty," he said, his tone light, his attention still on the screen. "It’s my job as co-pilot."

The car hummed around you as he found a playlist he seemed to approve of. The music started, and he turned to you, his expression unreadable, though the teasing edge in his voice was unmistakable.

"A playlist for driving at night, huh?" he asked, tilting his head. "Why do most of these songs sound like they’re... about sex? Feeling a bit needy, darling?"

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him only briefly. "You’re intelligent, William," you replied smoothly, your tone casual. "Stop asking questions you already know the answer to."

He chuckled softly, but his gaze was still fixed on the screen. His hand rested warm and steady on the wheel, the quiet intensity of the night deepening around you.

"There’s nothing wrong with not having a boyfriend, or having a healthy imagination," he said, voice lowering a little, almost softer now. His fingers brushed lightly against your shoulder before resting there, a touch that lingered. "It surprised me, that’s all. You’re brilliant, desirable... anyone would be lucky to have you."

You glanced at him for a moment, a quiet smile tugging at your lips, but your voice carried the faintest edge. "Finding someone worth your time? It’s like searching for gold in a river. You know it’s out there, but you’re going to waste a lot of time looking."

Your gaze flicked to his face, studying his reaction. "Most men are scum, William. Honestly, I couldn’t care less to try."

He was quiet for a moment, gaze still on the screen as though measuring his words. When he finally spoke, his voice had softened. "I wouldn’t call it wasting time. You just have to find the one worth keeping."

You shot him a sideways glance. "And where, exactly, do I find this mythical man?" you teased, voice light but with an underlying curiosity.

"Maybe closer than you think," he said quietly, the weight of his words lingering longer than you expected.

A faint smile tugged at your lips as you glanced at him. "I still think he should fall straight into my lap. Like an angel."

"So, you want a demon, then?" William shot back, grinning. "I remember you were obsessed with Sebastian from Black Butler. Your room was basically a shrine—pictures, drawings, all over the walls. Good times."

A groan escaped you, rolling your eyes in exasperation. "I was a teenager, William. That doesn’t count."

"Doesn’t it?" he teased, his grin widening. "The evidence was pretty damning."

But it wasn’t his teasing that had you biting your lip, barely able to focus on the road. It was the way his hand had settled on your thigh—warm, steady, but there with an undeniable intensity. The air around you shifted, thickened, as though the car itself was holding its breath.

"Stop teasing me," you muttered, your voice playful but edged with something else. "Or I’ll make you drive instead."

His eyes flicked over to you, amusement dancing there. "But, darling, I’m terrible with GPS."

"Exactly," you said, the words slipping out with a knowing edge. A wicked thrill ran through you as you imagined him fumbling with directions. A slight shiver passed through him.

The corner of his lips twitched, betraying the conflict inside him as he looked away, watching the road ahead. His body language was tense, the heat rising inside him not entirely from the car’s temperature. The break with you had been everything he needed, but there was still a part of him that burned for more. Every teasing word, every playful exchange, only left him wanting more.

Would he try again?

He cared for you—no, he craved you. The thought of you consumed him, haunted him, until even the silence between you felt charged. He’d come up with this whole trip as an excuse to spend time with you, a reckless move, but when you agreed, it felt like everything had clicked into place.

William wanted to see the moment you let your guard down. He wanted to feel your lips pressed to his, your body against his as the heat of your connection filled the space between you. His thoughts drifted, pulling him into an imagined reality where you were finally his, where you melted into his touch. His chest tightened, the longing almost unbearable.

"William?"

Your voice cut through the haze of his thoughts, your hand waving in front of his face. His eyes snapped back to you, the moment broken, but the heat still simmering beneath the surface.

"You okay?" you asked, voice soft but insistent. "I asked if you'd like to stop for a bit."

"Yes," he replied quickly, his voice a little tighter than usual. "A break sounds good. Is there an inn around here?"

You studied him for a moment, a little too aware of the tension that had built between you both. "A break? Or are you just avoiding something?"

He looked away, his fingers absently smoothing the coat in his lap. "Something like that."

And then, his gaze met yours again, lingering just a little too long. "We all need a moment to breathe, don't we?"

You smirked. "Maybe, but I'm not sure it’s just a bathroom break you need."

You shifted closer, your words soft but charged. "You think you’re the only one holding back? The way you move, the way your hands grip the chalk when you’re writing, the way your body—lean, strong—gets so close when you explain things. The way you smell... how I can feel the heat radiating from you. It’s maddening."

The words hung between you, thick and undeniable.

"It’s maddening to realize that you don’t desire me truly, but want a distraction from your rational world. I see the glances and the whispering when we are together, it seems I am too basic to be with you – the hot young professor – don’t you think?"

Her words stung, sharper than he had anticipated. The casualness with which she dropped them, as if they were nothing more than another playful observation, made them all the more cutting.

He turned to her, his jaw tight, the words caught in his throat for a brief, strained moment. A part of him wanted to deny it—wanted to push the whole subject away. But the raw honesty in her eyes made it impossible to lie.

"Is that what you think?" His voice was lower now, the teasing edge gone. It wasn’t the frustration he was used to hearing in his own voice, but something quieter, something far more dangerous. "You think I’m just trying to escape the confines of my ‘rational world’?"

She shrugged, her lips curling into a half-smile, but there was a softness in her gaze now, a vulnerability he hadn’t seen before. She was playing a dangerous game, one she knew all too well.

"You don't have to admit it," she said softly, eyes flickering to the road ahead, though she could feel his gaze lingering on her. "You just have to look at the way you act around me. When you’re close, it's like you're holding your breath, like you're scared to let yourself... want anything. But you're drawn in anyway, aren't you?"

William shifted in his seat, the tension tightening further. He didn’t need to admit it; he could feel it—a pull he couldn’t explain, yet couldn’t ignore.

"You don’t know anything about what I want," he muttered, though his words lacked the usual confidence, tinged with something far more uncertain.

Her laugh was soft, almost like a sigh. "Isn’t it always the way? You never want what you think you need, but you can’t stop yourself from wanting it. It's easy to convince yourself it's a distraction, a game. But it’s not, William. It never has been."

The silence between them grew, thick with unspoken truths and unacknowledged desire. She didn’t look at him again, but she didn’t need to. The tension was palpable, the space between them charged with the words they hadn’t yet said but both knew were there.

"You think I’m just playing games?" he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She didn’t answer at first, instead letting the question hang in the air, drifting between them like the road stretching out in front of them. And when she did speak, her voice was low, steady, and undeniably certain.

"Maybe you’re the one playing games, William. But if you’re trying to keep me at arm’s length, you’re losing."

"Stop the car."

"What?"

"Stop this fucking car, darling." He smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. His gaze was sharp, different from all you had seem before, with a malicious glint that reminded you of blood. Sighing, you obeyed, steering the car into a small parking lot at a gas station by the side of the road.

You put the car in neutral and pulled the handbrake, unaware of when he kissed you. His voice was a low mutter, and your eyes widened as you saw a tear fall from his eye. "Why can't you understand anything I say? Do you really think I'm just a filthy womanizer, name?"

You tried to speak, but he cut you off again. "How could I even sleep with anyone when you're the only one in my mind?" He placed his hand on your cheek. "I... I even dedicated an entire thesis to you."

"Does that make you understand?" he groaned as he pulled you into an embrace, the feel of your hands on his back almost unbearable. "I love you."

His hands roamed over your body with an urgency that matched the pounding of his heart. Every touch, every breath felt like a claim, marking you as his. You could feel the heat of his body, his breath shallow against your skin as his lips traced the curve of your neck – nibbling it incessantly.

"Do you feel it?" he whispered, his voice low and raw. "The way I need you... the way you're the only thing that matters now?" He pressed closer, his cock hard against your hand, and you could already taste the tension, thick and unrelenting. "Tell me you feel it too. Tell me you understand."

"I want you, William. I always have."

Aren’t you afraid of being seen?" you murmured, confusion evident in your voice as your back pressed against the leather of the car’s backseat—the car you had only recently bought and that wouldn’t remain so clean after this. Your gaze darted from side to side, searching for anyone who might intrude on your fragile sense of privacy.

"Who cares?" he muttered, shifting awkwardly on his knees against the carpet, his face now level with your hips. "I almost lost you because I was too scared to feel anything real—let them watch if they want."

His patience was wearing thin, but he forced himself to move carefully. He unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them down your legs slowly before tossing them aside. His hands lingered, firm, his touch more certain than hesitant, as if grounding himself in the moment. His gaze burned into you, full of need and desperation, like you were the only thing in his mind.

"Open your legs for me, sweetheart." He rested his head on your thigh, his eyes almost pleading as he gazed up at you. "Let me make you forget everything that's troubling you."

You parted your legs, and the sight before him – oh, the sight – was enough to make him cum undone. The hardness in his pants throbbed painfully, barely restrained. A glistening patch of your arousal darkened your simple nude panties, the wetness trailing all the way to your clit. He swore he could almost catch the faint, intoxicating hint of your sweet scent.

Would you taste as good as he imagined?

He moved closer to your core, pausing just long enough for your consent. When you nodded, his fingers slid your panties to the side. He started with a slow lick, savoring your taste as he traced the length of your slit. Then came a single, lingering suck on your clit that drew a gasp and a moan from your lips. He was definitely pussydrunk.

How could he not be? You tasted divine, and the sight of your walls fluttering around nothing, desperate to be filled, drove him to the brink. It was maddening. His hand pressed firmly against your lower back, pulling you closer to his mouth. He wanted more, he wanted everything. Every drop of you.

William slid his index finger inside you, curling it eagerly toward the spot he had studied so meticulously in his anatomy books—the one that promised to bring unparalleled pleasure to a partner. "S-Shit, this feels so good," you stammered, biting your lip as you struggled to steady your breath.

He chuckled, unable to resist the allure of your soft, vulnerable expressions. His finger curled in a deliberate come-hither motion, coaxing pleasure from deep within as he continued to suck the very breath from your lungs. Adding a second finger, he watched you unravel before him, utterly lost in the rapture he so skillfully provided.

"Ngh…s-so close." The pulsing sensation in your gut tightened, drawing a sharp tremble from your legs as you clenched around his fingers. Your breath hitched, a gasp escaping, and your thoughts dissolved into a haze of pleasure. William's tongue moved with calculated precision, circling and teasing until the world around you blurred, leaving only him and the dizzying waves he adored.

"I won't let you cum yet," his gaze held a spark, the corners of his mouth lifting just enough to tease without revealing too much. "I want you on my cock."

Before you could respond, he grabbed your arms and pushed you onto all fours. His grip was firm, immobilizing you without effort. You gritted your teeth, frustration bubbling over as the sensation of being so close yet denied coursed through you. He didn't react to your hissing protest, simply adjusting his hold to keep you steady.

"I won't stop once I start," he said, leaning close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Just fuck me already," you snapped, your patience gone. "Stop teasing, you bastard."

"If you insist," he said, the words laced with heat that sent a shiver down your spine.

Snap.

The sound of his belt being undone broke the air between you, deliberate and unhurried. His movements were calculated, a stark contrast to the rush of tension that gripped you both. With a flick of his wrist, he loosened the leather, casting aside the composure he wore like a mask. The William you thought you knew—refined, restrained, untouchable—was gone, replaced by a man consumed by need.

His pants slid down to his knees, and he freed his cock,

letting it press firmly against your ass. You gasped as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your neck, his voice a low growl that seemed to echo in your chest.

"Do you feel that?" he murmured, his hand gripping your hip, pulling you back just enough to make his intentions clear. "This is what you’ve been driving me to."

Your body tensed as he guided you into position, his hand pressing firmly against your back to arch you just the way he wanted. The cool air hit your exposed skin, heightening every sensation as his grip tightened, his fingers digging into your hips to keep you still.

The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, hot and unyielding, sending a jolt through your body. He leaned over, his chest brushing against your back as his lips hovered by your ear.

"I’m not holding back this time," he said, his tone commanding yet heavy with affection. His voice trembled slightly, giving away the tension coiled in his body. "Do you want me to fill you up?"

The weight of his body pinned you in place, but you managed to look back at him, meeting his gaze. The hunger in his eyes was unrelenting, blazing with need, but there was something deeper there—a silent plea, almost vulnerable, as if he were asking for more than just permission.

"Yes," you breathed, the word spilling out before you could second-guess yourself. "I want you to, please."

The corner of his mouth lifted, satisfied with your answer, before his lips claimed the back of your neck in a kiss that left you trembling. Then, without waiting for a response, he pushed forward, filling you inch by inch, the stretch forcing a gasp from your lips. He didn’t stop, didn’t pause, until he was buried deep inside you, his body flush against yours.

His hand slipped from your back to your jaw, turning your face just enough for his lips to brush the corner of your mouth. "You keep pretending you're in charge," he murmured, his tone low, almost teasing. "But look where you are now."

Your breath hitched, and you opened your mouth to snap back, but the slow pull of him moving inside you wiped the thought clean from your mind. He pulled back slightly, letting you feel the drag of every inch, before slamming his hips forward, forcing a sharp gasp from your lips.

"Liam!"

His name spilled out before you could stop it, your voice trembling as he moved inside you with deliberate intent. A rich, low laugh escaped him, warm yet tinged with a smugness that made your cheeks flush hotter. "That’s it," he murmured, his grip on your hips tightening. He adjusted his stance, his thighs bracketing yours, keeping you steady against the rhythm he was setting. "Say it again. I want to hear exactly what I do to you."

You swallowed hard, your breath catching as his weight pressed you deeper into the worn leather of the back seat. The windows had long since fogged, heat radiating from where your bodies met, filling the car with your scents. "You’re insufferable," you managed to hiss, though the words wavered as your body betrayed you, arching instinctively into his sex every movement.

His response was immediate. His teeth grazed your shoulder, just enough to make your skin tingle, before his lips followed, nibbling lightly as if testing your limits. "And yet, here you are," he murmured, his hips snapping against yours with more intensity. The wet, rhythmic sound of his movements filled the cramped space of the car, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.

His hands moved lower, gripping your thighs firmly to hold you in place as he adjusted your position. The shift sent him deeper, the hard, insistent head of his cock brushing against that sensitive spot inside you, drawing a choked gasp from your lips.

"Taking everything I give you," he continued, his voice softening but never losing that sharp, teasing edge. His pace didn’t falter, every thrust hitting the perfect angle, as if he had mapped out every way to fuck you long before this moment.

"Tell me again," he murmured, his body pressing closer, his chest brushing against your back. His breath was hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "How you’re the one in control, name. I’d love to hear it."

For all his gentlemanly charm, William could truly be insistent at times. The control he prided himself on could crumble so easily, his reason slipping away as instinct took over. It was almost funny—almost. The way the heat of your pussy wrapped his dick, engulfing him completely, made it impossible for him to think clearly. All that careful composure vanished, his blood rushing south until he felt dizzy with pleasure.

He paused, his moans growing louder as he began grinding in slow circles. You felt your arousal trailing down your thighs, threatening to stain the leather seats beneath you

"Oh my fucking god," William muttered, pulling away, slick coating his lips and chin as he stared at the mess you’d made. "Look at that pretty pussy. So wet, all for me." A soft slap to your ass had your body jolting.

You let out a breathless laugh, your head dropping forward as your fingers clawed at the edge of the seat. "You talk too much."

"Stop pretending you don’t love it," he murmured, his voice rough but steady as his eyes locked onto yours. His pupils were blown wide, his golden hair damp and sticking to his forehead from the heat between you.

His pace slowed, his hand sliding around to your abdomen as his thrusts grew more intentional. His palm pressed against your skin, right over the spot where he could feel the motion of his cock inside you, eager to see your expressions.

You felt yourself nearing the edge of climax, and you knew he was just at the same point. The slick noises intensified with each of his final thrusts into you.

"If you stain my car, you will clean it, okay?" you chuckled, your voice breathy, as he massaged your clit in circular motions while rolling his hips. You moaned loudly, the dizzy sensation in your head reaching its apex, your vision momentarily going black.

"Don't worry," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "I’ll clean it every time, dear."

He bit his lip as he reached the edge, pulling out of you and wrapping his hand around his length. Pumping up and down along his flushed shaft, he moaned your name, circling the tip with his thumb until sticky ropes of cum painted your back white.

You looked at him and sat down, your legs trembling, your skin slick with sweat and stained with his cum. "I’m exhausted. God."

"I am no god, name," he smirked teasingly, pulling a cloth from the car door compartment to clean you. "But I can be your boyfriend."

"As if I’d let you have me this easily," you huffed, crossing your arms. "We still have two hours left, and you just lost your driver."

"Go, go, math genius. I’ll help you with the GPS," you added nonchalantly, pushing him lightly and pointing to the steering wheel.

He pecked your cheek and ruffled your hair. "I’d do it even if you hadn’t asked."

William reached for his boxers, pulling them up his legs and over his hips in one swift motion. He grabbed his jeans next, stepping into them and tugging them into place before fastening the button and belt.

He opened the car door and stepped out, the sound of his shoes faint against the ground as he moved around to the driver’s side. Once there, he opened the door, slid into the seat, and adjusted it slightly, his hands steady as they found the steering wheel.

"But I’ll really need your help to understand these maps," he pouted. "I’m a mathematician, but this type of technology is a no for me."

You sighed, sitting down next to him after putting your clothes back on. "I hope this place is actually relaxing and interesting."

"Let’s go, darling," he said with a smile. "I’m paying for it anyway."

"Rich bastard."

And the engine roared to life

[moriartyluver]

Okay but mtp x reader band au except liam is a loser pianist in love with rockstar y/n

[kanroji-san]

Obanai!Y/n/Reader AU

Obanai!Y/n: John, can you take care of the baby while I'm gone?

John: Huh? Baby?

Obanai!Y/n: *Signal him to look at Sherlock*

John: ...

Sherlock: *Glaring at Obanai!Y/n*...

Obanai!Y/n: Pft- Bye.