#Yandere yuukoku no moriarty

[yandere-romanticaa]

i know you've mainly written about yan! william with a darling who is just as crazy, but can you do one with a more innocent darling? like they just tried to run away from him, too bad he knows them like the back of his hand and knows where she could have gone

The serene song of the morning birds gave an ethereal atmosphere to the Moriarty household, as some of the large branches from the nearby trees kept tapping against the open windows, their soon to be bright orange and red leaves decorating the wooden floor.

William drank his tea in peace, the hot aroma engulfing him as he let out a satisfied hum. The branches were beyond beautiful, they truly did give a certain pop of life to the entire estate which he marvelously enjoyed.

Said branches were also quite sturdy, he duly noted.

Placing the tea cup back down onto the porcelain white plate, William uncrossed his legs and stood up, his posture as straight as it can be as he made his way towards the window, his pace slow and relaxed. He looked out the window, taking in the soon to be autumn scenery and a few footsteps left in the grass from a little someone who managed to escape. How cute, he thought to himself.

"Brother..." said a sudden voice, it being gentle and soft, but with a hint of worry in it. William did not even bother to turn around to look at his brother, already knowing what he was going to ask him. Louis always made sure that everything was in order, no matter how miniscule it may seem. He would sometimes even have him tend to the little captive he held in his basement, making sure that the shackles were tight just right, but not too tight.

He despised seeing bruises bloom on your pretty skin. The sight alone made him seethe.

"Yes Louis, I know. No need to concern yourself with anything." came William's reply, his voice neutral.

"I shall take care of everything. You just keep doing what you always do best." said William. He turned slightly back to look at his brother, to analyze his worried face. He gave him a nod, which allowed Louis to leave the room.

The room was almost vacant now, save for William and his morning paper. The man could not help but to let out a wistful sigh, red tainting his pale cheeks as he felt his heart do backflips in his chest.

You had no kind of idea just what sort of power you had over the Lord of Crime. That was always something William was going to give you credit for. Your fiery nature was beyond precious but you just had this innocent doll like quality to your person, which William James Moriarty could not help but to deeply admire.

He already knows where you are. He already knows where he was going to go tonight and at exactly what time he was going to collect you. William was buzzing at the thought of you telling him just how you had managed to get out of your shackles without waking up anyone in the entire house, all the while climbing down a tree like a little mouse.

For now though, he was going to let you enjoy this mini spoil of victory. He could already picture your sweet face, a face so sweet that he sometimes wondered if it would crumble due to his dark touch.

William was not a good man, he knew this all too well. However, he was also not cruel, especially towards you. You would be granted these few hours of freedom, you truly did deserve them.

Once the sun goes down and the silver moon comes up though, all is fair in love and war.

[fancyfeathers]

God I just had the funniest idea after watching the tea party ova of Moriarty the Patriot…

Just picture their darlings there because they all are a part of the household now.

William’s darling, the shy little thing she is, is just clinging onto William’s arm or near his side the entire time. Half of the ladies present are glaring at her because she is a little street rat who took William’s heart before anyone else could have a chance that they didn’t even have in the first place. The other half of the ladies present are smitten with the adorable little wife of the mathematics professor, like the way a little girl would coo over their baby sibling or new doll that their parents bought them, they offer William to take her off of his hands for a day or perhaps a week, telling her how adorable she would look with a trip to her family’s country home and makeover, perhaps a new wardrobe and- While the ladies ramble on, she is just looking at William with pleading eyes to get her out of there.

Meanwhile Albert’s darling, who was born into nobility is taking the opportunity to visit with some of her old friends who are present, slipping away from Albert to fend for himself with all the ladies present. Many of those ladies she speaks to are the same ladies who have swept William’s darling away to fixate on her, and they are just talking to Albert’s darling while playing with her curls like did she do her hair? Oh she did, well isn’t that just adorable- oh and the earring and necklace she is wearing was a gift from Albert’s darling? Well isn’t that just the sweetest.

Louis’ darling has the most merciful fate because she gets to help her husband and the temporary staff in the kitchen away from all the commotion of the party, though if she does end up nicking herself once with a knife even once Louis will bandage it and send her upstairs so she can read or something, but chances are she will snag Von Herder’s darling from the basement where they are keeping watch over the things the others don’t want found and she will take her upstairs to read with her and people watch from the window.

Then there is Bonde’s and Moran’s darling who get to help out with the party, and by get to help it means they have to help due to all the pleading from each of their partners. The both of them stick close together, gossiping and making notes about the rich ladies at the party and asking each other what the other gets from the other’s partner in order to agree to do this and let’s just saw the answers they give one another they would have to hope none of the guests at the party overhear…

But of course by the end of the party those promises are put on hold due to everyone’s exhaustion. Bonde has his darling cuddled up next to him, his arms pulling the blanket around them both. Moran practically has to carry his darling up to bed because she is ready to fall asleep at any moment and run out the cramps in her legs from her heels. Louis’ darling cleans up the kitchen for him as the temporary staff is dismissed and her husband gets ready for bed. Von Herder’s darling has to pull him out of the basement so the two of them can go to sleep cause if she didn’t he would be down there all night. Albert and his darling go up to bed early and split a bottle of wine between the two of them before they pass out from exhaustion. William helps his darling get undressed and ready for bed and she quickly tells him as they settle into bed how she never wants to do that again and he fully agrees.

[married-to-google-translater]

yandere william moriarty with a female darling who escaped and she disguised as à man to not to be found

(But we all know the answer)

Yandere William James Moriarty

William couldn't figure out how you got away.

He should have taken into account even all the little details.

However, when he returned home you were gone.

You were gone and he felt nothing but emptiness inside.

William was afraid for a moment that you had been taken.

The world really wouldn't be pure enough for you.

However, when he investigated the matter more closely, it turned out that you had disappeared voluntarily.

William would try to find you.

It shouldn't be difficult in theory.

He would be intelligent and have a lot of resources.

However, you have lived with William and somehow know how his brain works.

William would find you after a while almost by accident.

He wouldn't really recognize you at first.

You would look so... different.

However, there was something familiar about you.

You had settled in a small village far away from his house.

William would never let you go again.

[queenendless]

THEM AND I

A/N: I am so sorry for this improvised mess of a piece. F Hurricanes. F Florida. F my ADHD self that can't force ingenious masterpieces outta my anxious fatigued brain. How does anyone put out long ass pieces on a consistent basis? I'll never know.

SHORT 🔞 DARK MATURE CONTENT DOWN BELOW.

Your very presence changed the foundation of the anime universe. They are the moths, and you are the flame. An anomaly like one. The dozens to hundreds of certain folk you crossed paths with immediately rewired their brains and tainted their cores.

Each one taking every chance to show off for you flexing their skills and pros to win your favor. Cheering on champion class soccer games. Taking motorcycle rides with fine delinquents. Treated to private tea parties with tier layered savory and sweets.

Having all this special treatment was flattering even though all those eyes on you was quite overwhelming, like the Six Eyes.

But of course, none are satisfied with having so many opponents standing in the way of you being with just themselves. All walks of life and death stalked you from every corner. Wizards gone overblot. Duelists who wacked their duel disks in others' faces. Apple- obsessed Shinigami employed shady tactics to derail everyone else's endeavors.

Cue the bloodbath.

Giant killer robot bears swarming the streets to laser eye and topple buildings on those from their master’ hit list. Geass brainwashed many to take their own lives. One of your lovesick options wanted you to unalive yourself with his bandaged wrapped self right off a roof. Not even butler cutlery was safe as it clashed with holy loaded guns for ownership over your soul. The sword wielding slayers beheaded many in their path.

Devil hunters trembled, crybaby heroes broke down, rangers' smiles cracked in fury, and so many unfortunate hunters were crushed; literally. Sinful demons would relish in the chaos. For crimson enveloped their now shared world.

Love letters for you, smothered in bloody kisses and hand prints, fell from the sky. Bouquets of white roses splattered with crimons drops on the petals. You felt your stomach twist in knots, your chest suffocating from the various hands and arms wrapped around you, and your vision being flooded with the color red.

Basically …

The fight for your love would result in WWIII.

But who would win in the end?

At that point, would it even matter?

Who's to say?

[p-seduonym]

Being the Wife of Yandere William James Moriarty

A/N: I know I've been radio silent for a while. A major blog that I like reblogged a post of mine and I'm hecking embarrassed cuz it sucked and uhirewalgbrteiuyag. Anyway. enjoy. And merry christmas.

William adores you, his darling wife.

From the moment he met you, William vowed to protect you from the filth of this world. Even if that meant less than pleasant ways of doing so.

Of course you wouldn’t know about that; you’d be kept blissfully ignorant of your husband’s possessive nature. And that’s why he loved you. You were so innocent and naive, believing in only the good of people. A ray of light in his dreary world.

You're so clueless that you don’t notice how he manipulates you and those around you. Your friends, your family, anyone you meet on a regular basis are slowly cut out of your life. And as you lament over your loneliness, William will only smile and comfort you.

Outwardly, he is the ideal husband, attentive, loving, and courteous. If you ever second guessed him, you’d immediately feel guilty for doubting your wonderful husband.

He has no qualms manipulating you. It was all to protect you, after all. And even as he does so, it is with a saccharine sort of sweetness that soothes any worries.

However, he is less kind to those who desire you as well. While most wouldn’t be bold enough to pursue another’s spouse openly, there were a few ambitious individuals. 

William has quite a few schemes to take care of anyone who looks at you with their lecherous eyes. Enough to make them regret ever approaching you with ill intentions.

There are few that William trusts around you. Of course, that includes his brothers and the household staff. However, that doesn’t mean he wasn’t adverse to your attention being taken up by them. He wants to be the only one in your gaze.

One would be surprised by how jealous William can be. It’s hard to tell from his cordial mask and seemingly affable nature. But he is quite susceptible to the green eyed monster, perhaps more so than others.

To love someone is to possess them, in William’s eyes.

And you were his greatest possession.

That being said, he’s not completely delusional to his situation.

William knows he doesn’t deserve someone as kind and pure as yourself. Not with the amount of blood on his hands. And yet, he can’t help but desire a future with you, even if that desire is in vain. He won’t forsake his ultimate plan for you, but that doesn’t mean he’s selfless enough to let you go.

Sometimes, in the dead of night as he holds you in his arms, William dreams of having a family with you. 

William is fully committed to dying for his sins, but that does not mean he is ready to truly release you from his grasp. So, before his death  he would leave you one last reminder of him, something to tie you to him even in his death. 

A child, with scarlet eyes and your smile.

[skay-ali]

The lonely lady

new fandom

The sun was shining, illuminating the dark streets, although they were very busy, there was a tense air in all the people, there was nothing but gray colors devoid of life, frowning or tired faces.

You would miss this small city full of aristocrats and commoners or normal people who always made you smile with their mundane, moderately fierce lives.

What you wouldn't miss is all the trouble about crimes at the hands of aristocrats, dealing with the helplessness of not being able to do anything about how innocent people suffered at the hands of monsters, only crying over the miserable end they had and enduring living without discomfort with the perpetrators. . of stories abominable actions.

You would finally be free from your entire evil family, you wouldn't miss them, they never showed an iota of compassion when you came to the family, you were just a stain on their lineage, that's why they could barely sell you to a nobleman.

But they were foolish, by compromising just to fill their pockets and have more power, they opened their doors to ferocious wolves, who meticulously planned their fall for all the evils they caused for generations.

You were never treated as their equal, you were just another maid, it didn't bother you even though they were cruel, the tasks they made you do were the typical ones you did in your old life, it was like a respite from all the work you were forced to do. to survive in a modern, capitalist world.

In addition, you had good friendships, you were able to gossip with the maids, drink with the gardeners and coachmen, play like a little girl with the children of the employees of the family home.

Your family in this new world would soon see its end, this was the night, the night where you would no longer see the need to stay in a house pretending to be an exemplary young lady and the fiancée of one of the most coveted men in the world. the ladies for their beauty and high status, afraid that your family will punish you for running away and ruining their business.

But above all you would no longer live with the fear of seeing your end at the hands of your fiancé and his family, the vigilantes of this story who wanted to clean up the world, you were not ready for such a thing, you were just an extra you told yourself and as a good extra You would disappear without a trace.

The United States seemed like a good option, going to the future land of dreams, where many people in the future could improve their lives.

Just don't look back, don't remember the affection you have for those characters with whom you lived for a few months, they were only pretending to achieve their goals, you repeated yourself endlessly... but you... you didn't, you actually got attached to them, they helped you overcome the emotional attachment you had with your former friends, the servants of the big dark house in which you were raised.

But now you were free although your heart hurt a lot, because you loved those people, you even allowed yourself to love, the one you never imagined, because you always had reason as your guide, it didn't end well, that person never saw you in such a way.

Even if you tried, you were in his eyes the evil that he sought to eradicate.

Not even his radiant fake smile could lie to you, you saw it many times captured in ink, in his story, that radiant smile he gave to his victims.

It was sad how such a vigilante would end up, not being able to witness the wonderful paradise he created.

Oh if only you had known, your escape would only cause problems later on, those people you didn't expect anything from would surprise you.

“Where is the lady?”

“excuse me who?”

“Miss ___, your fiancée” the maid became impatient, something that did not go unnoticed by those present.

“Excuse me but what do you need from her?” asked one of the brothers, disconcerted by the interest of the servant they had helped, in the noble woman who lived in their winery.

“She must know…” the young woman said calmly.

“she is finally free… she will no longer suffer for that family”

It was a bucket of cold water, although the entire group was very insightful, they never noticed such a thing, it must have been a very well-kept secret on your part.

They knew they had to talk to you after the maid's big confession.

They just didn't expect you to have left.

It is hopeful to see how in the darkness a being emerges capable of bringing light to this place again, it takes being truly brave and determined to try to cleanse the world of corrupt nobles.

But there is something that bothers me, perhaps this new great hero will be corrupted, or will he think that now he is the evil that must be eliminated.

I think that after his great deeds, the hero should live his happily ever after, even if it is a childish thought, doesn't he deserve to be happy after having sacrificed himself?

After all this, the obsessive characters are unleashed....

[yandere-wishes]

⋆ Anomaly ⋆

❤Summary: Reader is an anomaly. A noblewoman of foreign descent. She doesn't belong here. But oh how she wishes to burn the world down just like William.

❤Author's note: A little something for Ana (@yandere-romanticaa) I hope you enjoy it!!

❤Warnings: Reader is traumatized, Yandere behavior, killing and blood, cryptic. I swear I know how math works…I've just been slaking this summer.

There are equations written over your skin. Complex formulas he's yet to solve. Exponents and variables freckle your body, scattered shards that try to tell him something, whispering the world's secrets every time he kisses your hand. You are an anomaly he thinks. Face full of cracks where the stars seep through. You're a mistake in the universe. A perfect doll misplaced. You are something, William is almost sure of it.

At heart, William is and always will be a mathematician. It just so happens that crime and math follow the same principles. Both require diligence and practice. Carefully throughout plans of how one must approach such a conundrum. One may call it a formula or a modus operandi or anything else as jejune. But in the end, a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet.

And yet to Moriarty, you are an equation that refuses to be solved. An enigma he's desperately sought to unravel since your first meeting.

William notices something odd as you stroll down an exquisite exemplar of the golden ratio. Something the lord of crime can't fully place. You're akin to a puzzle missing far too many pieces to properly depict its picture. Maybe it's the setting he ponders as he watches you take careful steps in heeled shoes. Maybe it's the music from the ballroom or the meaningless prattle of the aristocrats that robs your form of all logic. Something is amiss with you and he's frantic to find out what it is.

William introduces himself when you reach the bottom of the staircase. He's never been one to show primary interest in the ladies. Rather he waits in the faint glow of the moonlight until someone approces him. Maybe it's the need to distinguish himself from the other aristocrats, maybe it's the repulsion for their customs and manners that refrains him from ever commencing idle chatter. Yet with you, a girl he's never met before, he finds it fitting to say hello first. To talk, about nothing and everything in the same breath. He mentions his admiration for the staircase in passing. Never expecting you to latch on to the words and morph them into the divine proportion. "My father was a mathematical enthusiast, he's passed that on to me as well." Your words slip into his veins like a narcotic, like the melody of an ancient tune lost to time.

William smiles, easy and bright like the melting rays of the desert sun. "Quite the coincidence, I'm a mathematics professor at Durham University". There's a giggle that bleeds from your rose-tainted lips. Reverberating in the chambers of his heart. "A toast then" you propose "to the lethal magnificence of calculation"

You click your champagne glass against his, as something feral festers within the young nobleman.

It's only days later when he's replaying that night in his head as he sips his afternoon tea. That he realizes your champagne glass was empty that whole time. How strange he pondered, wondering if he'd even seen you touch a single intoxicant all evening.

Four days and three sleepless nights later William finds himself tracing the letters of your name with tender adoration. As if he's engraving prayers upon his bones. He needs to see you again as desperately as he needs to breathe. The letter he writes is aloof, meticulous. Prying on your curiosity, hoping you'll take the bait. One miserable day later Louis delivers a letter bathed in your fragrance. Informing the lord Moriarty of your acceptance of his invitation for tea. William folds the letter with the leniency of a biologist regulating their slides. Tucking it away within his breast pocket.

You wear red when you oblige his invitation. An odd red, one that breaks his perception of the color. It's too vibrant yet too opaque. He's beginning to wonder if everything about you is an irregularity. When he ushers the conversation to your garment you merely laugh and brush it off as having belonged to your mother. There's something wrong with that reply as if the universe weeps at your every word. William watches astonished as if he's been told a secret lost to time.

It becomes a habit, an obsession, an addiction really. Tea thrice a week with the woman who plagues his dreams. He lets his cover slip between sips of tea. Permitting you glances into his dark affairs. There's a moment that breaks the norm. A bizarre instance when you ask him to spare no detail in recounting how a poor tormented man murdered the marquess that raped his wife. William stops the proclean cup mere millimeters from his lips. His voice dies in his throat as his mind races to find an appropriate way to tell a lady such a bloody tale. For a second reality slips away.

Reality has a tendency to slip away unnoticed when he's with you.

You weave William tales of foreign lands that sound like they belong in children's fairytales. You tell him about heroes who've done the impossible and kings whose hearts are as pure as the summer skies.

Something about you reverberates in his subconscious. Oh, how he wishes to engulf you, to pick apart your flesh revealing all those dainty secrets you keep in your pretty little chest.

He asks how you know of such utopic lands. You smile. "Because I once lived there"

One day, as Louis serves black tea with rose petals, you bring up a rather peculiar request. "Permit me to assist you in your quest for equality lord Moriarty." William's beginning to believe he's going mad when he hears you. Albit it may as well be expected. Any sane noble lady would have run away many times over. Yet you remain. Forever poised in your adorned seat. Now more than ever William wishes he knew what you truly are. "I want to help you", you plead. "Allow me to aid you in burning this world down and starting anew". He shouldn't have accepted, he shouldn't have nobbed. He shouldn't have left his seat to trace the side of your face with more love than he knew he possessed.

Sometimes, William wonders if something is haunting you, an apparition nesting within the depths of your heart. He ponders what could drive a brilliant mind such as yours to crave the blood of the rich. You once told him about a heritage disrespected. A legacy buried under sand and water lilies. He's yet to find the true meaning behind those words. Does that make you a threat or an ally? Can either be exalted to a lover?

Moriarty promises you the world. Promise you revenge. He's not sure if he too will burn away in your vendetta. Yet he's willing to take the risk if he can hold you close after every murder case.

"I've tried to kick the habit of strolling around the cemeteries at night. Yet I must admit I rather enjoy this." William smiles at your twisted words as he leads the way. If everything has goes as planned -which is most often the case- then the two of you should be prepared for quite the spectacle. A certain Count - who had shown more interest in you than Moriarty could permit- would be getting knifed by his butler whose life he had ruined. A whole new meaning to the term 'the butler did it'. Quite comedic from William's perspective.

You lean on a withering oak tree, hidden by London's thick fog. William stands by your side, the personification of a grim reaper. You watch the play begin, the cobblestone stage illuminated by the blood-red moon. The confrontation, the knife being thrust into the rich vermin's heart. Again and Again and Again. The butler screams into the bloodstained night. His words quelled by his sobs and screams of agony from his dying tormentor. You only catch half of his reasoning, half of his allegations. And yet that is more than enough to comprehend his motive. You sympathize with the poor man, one whose scars mirror your own.

William's scarlet gaze befalls you, as the performance nears its end.

You pick at your nails in a manner that William finds a little too adorable.

You are an anomaly masquerading as a human. Depression lays heavy over your bones as stardust gathers in the corners of your eyes.

You pray to the creator of the moon, pray for a place long since destroyed.

"I've yet to find someone who truly understands me," you say as the two of you begin the journey back to the Moriarty estate.

"Then we share the same burden, my lady," William says, stopping in his tracks.

He lays a firm hand on your shoulder pulling you backwards into his embrace. Somewhere in the distance, three crows consecrate you with their blessings. Willian's hands rest heavy on your sides. He holds you like a little boy holds his father's arithmatic books. Full of care, full of wonder. "What are you" he whispers into your ear. Leaving a playfully hard bite to the shell. His lips trace yours like one traces a treasure map. Trying to unearth all the riches of the world. "My anomaly" he mutters before he finally commits.

When Moriarty kisses you the whole world melts away.

There's an intriguing lightheadedness that follows. As if the stars themselves have exploded within you. You wonder if basking in his presence will mend your tattered heart.

"My precious little anomaly"

Tag list: @elvyshiarieko @himerurun @latolover @aru-nightmare @guidingstarsstuff @myfancollections

[ananiel]

So we talked about many difrent au's, did we not? But You know one that can't posibily fail us? One where You are like Howl from Howls moving castle.

Howl is a wizard known for his famous spells, strong magic, wit and for being well known in the ladies world

So what if You had his personality and overall magical qualities

A Christmas special

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

You were driving him mad with your personality that let's out so much but nothing at the same time.

He hated You so much he loved You. So much he grew obsessed with your very own being.

You were difrent, a witch of some sorts that made him so angry.

You were so arogant and pridefull, so ready to just flick your wrist and float away from him.

Clearly You knew he didn't have the very best intensions, but You never voiced it. It didn't seem like You treated him difrent from the others either. He could've sworn that You didn't know anything, but when a younger fan decided to come out to You, he saw the protective hand You put over the child when he came on sight.

You knew, You knew more about him then he could even comprehand You did, You could be a threat to his plans. In his eyes, You were an impure being that played with things God has forbiden humans from ever doing

He even went to confront You in that weird abomination You called Your castle. You let him in while working on God knows what and he got a look around... It doesn't seem that bad...

When he tried to argue, You gave back witty responses which annoyed him teribly but what caught his attention was an answear You gave about leaving soon to continue your search for someone You met in the past.

He was fuming, he put on a happy act that You didn't buy, but didn't care enough to question him either.

There's no way in hell he would ever let You leave him for another, no way in hell.

So he come up with a plan, he helped You find that person but in return You craft a ring that can block all magic for him.

Now, theoretically he did help You find them, but before You could run to them, he shot them, straight to the heart, the perfect shot.

You feel to your knees in anguish as You knew You couldn't do anything. He was phisically stronger and magic couldn't help You if he wore that ring.

The maniac crounched down next to You and took your hand in his while shussing your cries. He pulled out a ring that looked the same as the magic ring You crafted and put it on your finger before kissing your hand with a deranged smile

"You see my love? How pathetic they were? How foolish of You to try and find them when i am all You need, right in front of You"

[sophistication-as]

"𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓"

"𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤�� 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙖𝙙𝙮."

ꕥ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: william james moriarty / reader

ꕥ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: implied female reader, +18, smut, nsfw, oral (f + m), fingering (f!receiving), sex (p in v), edging, unprotected sex, mutual pining, romantic intimacy, emotional vulnerability, mention of crimes and society's problems.

ꕥ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: william james moriarty, the infamous lord of crime, is now your ally. but when he stands at your door late at night, you find yourself questioning if being just that is enough. there’s a tension between you, something more than simple partnership. as trust and desire intertwine, you can't help but wonder—what is it that draws you to him? is it mere fascination, or something far deeper?

ꕥ 𝐰𝐜: 4135!

ꕥ thank you @eliasorchard for your support

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤

The room was still, the only sounds being the faint scratching of your pen and the soft crackle of the candle burning low on your desk. Books lay scattered across the surface, open to pages filled with intricate diagrams and notes you’d carefully scrawled over the past few hours. The faint scent of wax and parchment lingered in the air, familiar and comforting.

The knock on the door broke the fragile silence. It wasn’t loud, just a gentle rapping, but it was enough to pull you from your focus. Your pen stopped mid-stroke, hovering over the page as your gaze shifted toward the sound. A rare disturbance at this hour.

You rose from your seat, tugging at the edges of your skirt to smooth the fabric. The floor creaked softly beneath your bare feet as you approached the door, hesitating for a moment with your hand on the handle. Taking a quiet breath, you turned it and pulled the door open.

"William?" you asked, tilting your head slightly. The faint flicker of candlelight casts shadows over his face, making his expression even harder to read. He stood there, as calm as ever, but something in his stance gave him away—something small, but enough to make your curiosity spike.

"Is everything all right?" you pressed, your voice softer this time. “It’s unusual to see you at this hour.”

"I do apologize," he said, his tone as polite as ever. The golden strands of his hair fell lightly over his scarlet eyes, catching the faint light in a way that made it hard to look away. "But I assure you, I am here on business, not merely for the pleasure of your company."

"First of all, it’s quite rude to leave a guest standing at the door, don’t you think?" you remarked, a quiet chuckle escaping your lips as you stepped aside to hold the door open. Your gaze flickered briefly over the sharp lines of his black cloak, a garment clearly chosen for its ability to conceal more than just his identity. Though your tone carried a playful edge, your posture remained poised, every movement calculated with the kind of grace that bordered on instinct.

You gestured toward the leather armchair by the fireplace, its surface gleaming in the soft, golden glow of the flickering flames. "Please, make yourself comfortable," you added smoothly, your words effortlessly mingling warmth with precision. "I’ll prepare some tea."

William chuckled, a spark of amusement flickering in his scarlet eyes. "Your consideration is truly remarkable," he said, the edge of a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Though, I must say, I’m rather surprised you’d welcome me after such an ungodly hour and finding you, of all places, in your own room."

With a smooth nod, he entered the room, his movements effortless, like he had all the time in the world. His gaze swept the space, lingering on the flickering fire that cast shadows across the walls and shelves. He lowered himself into the armchair with a languid grace, his fingers finding each other almost instinctively as he settled in. "Quite cozy in here," he remarked, his voice laced with dry humor.

Some minutes later, you proceeded to pour hot water into the teapot, which had been previously filled with tea leaves. You presented him with an exquisite fine china cup, worth thousands of pounds, in a serene manner.

William accepted the delicate porcelain cup with a small, appreciative smile, his fingers wrapping around the smooth china with careful precision. He brought the cup to his lips, inhaling the floral fragrance before taking a sip. "I must admit," he said, his voice low and thoughtful, "you truly have a talent for creating...environments." His eyes briefly scanned the room before returning to you. "I hadn’t imagined a study would require quite so much furniture." There was a playful note, but his tone remained gentle, his gaze sharp as he watched your reaction.

He was bold, that much was obvious, and you couldn’t hide the faint smile that tugged at your lips. He had that effect on you — no denying it. There was something about him that screamed genius, that rare kind of brilliance that only comes once in a lifetime. Or, as you liked to joke, a damn mastermind. It wasn’t easy to hide anything from him, though. His eyes were sharp, always watching, always noticing. You could try to mask your thoughts, but he seemed to see right through you, like an open book.

"I realized I was working into the late hours, so I thought, why not make things convenient?" You lifted your cup, savoring a sip of tea, before gesturing casually toward the king-sized bed nestled behind you. A subtle smile played on your lips as you added, "Besides, I think it adds a certain charm to the room, wouldn’t you agree?"

"I assure you, that charm pales in comparison to the owner's," he murmured smoothly, the comment slipping from his lips with such ease that it almost went unnoticed. Before you could muster a reply to his casual flirtation, he seamlessly shifted topics, his tone adopting a more serious edge. "Speaking of pressing matters, did you receive the documents regarding the labor exploitation and trafficking schemes between the French and British elites? Or perhaps any updates from your meeting with the Queen?"

"I wouldn’t say receive—more like acquired by stealing," you chuckled softly, shifting slightly in the armchair beside him, your body moving with a fluid grace as if to shake off the weight of the conversation. "But don’t worry, I’ll fetch them for you, all right?"

Rising to your feet, you crossed the room with purpose, the soft tap of your steps barely audible against the rich carpet. At the mahogany wood drawer, your fingers traced its edge before pressing a hidden button beneath it, revealing a concealed compartment.

William observed the process with a faint, almost amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His crimson gaze followed each movement you made, noting the precision and ease with which you executed even the simplest of tasks. It hadn’t escaped him how much more efficient his life had become since forging an alliance with you—an ally who, thus far, had never failed him.

Yet, it was him who messed things up, since your relationship was supposed to be strictly professional. But there he was, lingering in those moments you shared—debating, reading, or planning together. It was like he couldn’t help himself, enjoying it more than he probably should.

He didn’t even notice when she was standing right in front of him, handing over the documents he’d asked for. That expression of surprise lasted only a second, then he masked it, quietly diving into the information like it was the only thing that mattered.

"So, there really is a cartel between the English and French elites, keeping the textile industry under the control of those arrogant bastards." he muttered, his voice low with a tinge of disgust. His lips curled slightly, his tone almost mocking as he continued, "And as if that wasn’t enough, they’re linked to the deaths of workers and the suppression of popular movements."

William let out a dry chuckle, running a hand over his face, his fingers briefly lingering at his temples as if trying to rub away the weight of the revelation.

"Thankfully, you’ve prepared a plan, Liam. At least those monsters will see their power diminished," you said as you reached for the empty cups. With practiced ease, you placed them on a silver tray, the porcelain making a soft clink. Turning back to him, you folded your arms lightly, tilting your head with a hint of curiosity. "So, what’s next? What am I required to do now?"

"Don’t worry about work now. You’ve already done enough, risking your life for those documents," he said, offering you a reassuring glance. His voice was soft, almost gentle, though the edge of his usual sharpness lingered. "Enjoy your rest for a while."

"Are you going home now?" you inquired, watching him carefully. You figured he had accomplished what he came for and didn’t have any other reasons to stay. "Do you want me to call my coachman?"

"I was lying when I said I was only here for business," he whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them. He shifted slightly, a faint trace of embarrassment coloring his expression. "But, are you willing to listen to what I have to say?"

Was he implying he felt attracted to you ?

You glanced at his eyes—scarlet, like a deep, burning flame—and then, almost involuntarily, your gaze shifted to his lips. There was something dangerous about the way he stood there, words hanging between you both like a heavy fog. The air felt charged, and you weren’t sure whether you were ready to step into it or pull back.

He raised from his seat with deliberate ease, his movements carrying a quiet confidence. He leaned down, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his fingers brushing softly against your lips as if testing the waters. His voice dropped to a near-whisper, laced with something raw and unguarded. "Please, tell me, name... May I kiss you?"

"Do you really think I would reject you?" you murmured, a playful edge to your tone as you closed the gap between you. Your hands reached up, pulling him into a kiss that was anything but shy. His fingers found their way to your neck, the touch insistent as he deepened the moment, his warmth consuming you entirely.

Without breaking the kiss, he swept you into his arms with ease, carrying you as though you weighed nothing. The world tilted for a moment before you felt the soft sheets beneath you. He placed you down gently, his touch careful, as his scarlet eyes met yours, searching for permission to go further, silently asking for permission.

You answered without hesitation, your gaze and the way you drew him closer saying everything he needed to know.

He then used his lean, slightly calloused fingers to trace along your thigh, moving deliberately. Each touch was firm yet careful, stirring sensations that sent shivers through your body. You tensed under his hand, your breath hitching as his fingers circled the hem of your skirt, playing just at the edge.

The slowness wasn’t accidental—he enjoyed drawing out your reactions, taking his time as if savoring every second. You could feel the subtle pressure of his fingertips, rough but measured, igniting a mix of frustration and longing. A soft sigh escaped your lips, one you couldn’t suppress, and his low chuckle followed immediately after.

“Patience,” William murmured, his breath brushing your ear. His tone carried the faintest hint of mockery, making the flush on your cheeks deepen.

His fingers slid just beneath the edge of the fabric, and the warmth of his touch against bare skin made your pulse quicken. The teasing was unbearable, every nerve in your body screaming for more. The tension was maddening, and finally, you couldn’t hold back.

“Just take this off already,” you huffed, trying to sound commanding but failing to hide the tremble in your voice. Your fists clenched at your sides, as if the small motion could keep you grounded. “Stop toying with me, William.”

He paused, a smirk forming on his lips as he leaned back slightly. His crimson eyes traveled slowly across your form, a deliberate sweep that left you feeling bare under his gaze.

“Why would I stop?” he asked smoothly, his voice low and teasing. “I’m enjoying the view.”

Then, with infuriating calm, he moved his hands to his waist, undoing the button of his pants with a soft click.

"If you’re not going to do it, I’ll just handle it myself." You inverted your positions, placing all your weight on top of him – a silent reminder that you, too, had the strength to equal him.

That surprised him, though not in the way you might have expected—he visibly hardened beneath you. Glancing down, a smug grin spread across your lips, satisfaction glinting in your eyes as he tasted his own poison.

William's pupils dilated when you had the brilliant idea of starting to take off each piece of clothing from your body. He could no longer suppress his desire, not when he finally had your bare skin touching his. "I surrender," he murmured, your name lingering on his tongue. His voice was hoarse with longing, tinged with the faint embarrassment of admitting defeat in this intimate battle.

He gently placed a hand on your back, pulling you closer until his lips captured yours in a soft, deliberate kiss. The tenderness quickly gave way to passion as his lips explored yours with a fervent curiosity, eager to uncover every hidden detail. A low groan escaped your throat when his tongue slipped into your mouth, the intensity of his desire igniting something equally heated within you.

"It seems you're skilled in more than just academics, Mr. Moriarty," you teased, your voice slightly breathless as your lips parted. The unusual fervor in his kiss contrasted with the composed, calculated persona he so often wore, making your remark all the more fitting.

A mocking expression played across his face, silently taunting you, as if to say your situation was no better than his. To stoke the flames further, his fingers began to explore the delicate heat between your folds, teasingly tracing the slickness that had escaped the confines of your now-forgotten undergarments, abandoned somewhere on the floor.

"I can show you many other things I skilled as well, my lady."

Your eyes fluttered shut from the overwhelming stimulation, breaths uneven as your chest rose and fell rapidly. Instinctively, your legs attempted to close, but his firm hands pushed them apart, holding you in place. Without hesitation, his head dipped lower, drawing closer to your womanhood with purpose. "Liam, it's so good. I can't take it anymore," you gasped, your voice trembling and pitching higher with a mix of pleasure and desperation.

He looked up at your face from below, a soft, almost predatory smile tugging at his lips. "Darling, I know you can," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire.

The words sent a jolt through you, your body arching slightly in response. Before you could protest, his tongue returned to its relentless pace, circling your clitoris with maddening precision. Each flick and swirl sent waves of satisfaction that spread like wildfire through your body, leaving you gasping for air.

Your thighs trembled as his hands pressed into your skin with just enough force to ground you while his tongue pushed you higher. When he slid a single finger inside, the intrusion was almost too much, your walls instinctively clenching around him. But it was the curl of his finger — achingly precise, particularly for his first time — that sent shockwaves through your core.

A strangled moan escaped your lips as he found your sweet spot, a sensation so intense it was almost unbearable. Your head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as the world outside this moment faded into oblivion. The faint rustle of sheets beneath you and the warmth of his breath against your most sensitive skin grounded you, while your thoughts spiraled—momentarily forgetting that you were ever rivals.

"William—please," you gasped, voice quivering. The desperation in your tone surprised even you, but it didn’t faze him. If anything, it spurred him on.

His free hand moved to grip your hip, his touch rough yet reassuring as if to anchor you amidst the storm he was conjuring. The rhythm of his movements was unrelenting, every stroke and flick driving you closer to the edge.

Your breaths grew uneven, each inhale catching in your throat as the tension within you coiled tighter. The only sounds in the room were your soft whimpers and the wet, sinful noises of his ministrations — you felt yourself nearing your release, unable to hold on any longer.

"Come for me, darling. Don't hold back," he urged, his baritone voice coaxing as you reached your peak. A broken moan escaped you as your fingers tangled in his golden hair, pulling slightly to steady yourself, while he eagerly savored every drop of your release.

You let out a soft chuckle, the calming sensation washing over you leaving your body pleasantly exhausted and your head spinning faintly. Beads of sweat clung to your skin as you tried to steady your breathing. William rose from his position, leaning in close. His lips brushed against your forehead in gentle, lingering kisses, a tender contrast to the intensity of moments before.

"I believe it's your turn now. After all, I’m not one to allow imbalance, especially in matters of pleasure," you teased, a playful smirk tugging at your lips as you glanced at him with an air of confident mischief.

He couldn’t help but glance at you, his crimson eyes gleaming with a sadistic edge, that highlighted his mixture of intelligence and a shadowed past—one you had yet to unravel. "If you insist," he said, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine, "who am I to deny you this pleasure?"

With deliberate slowness, he spread his legs slightly, the fabric of his underwear tightening just enough to reveal the unmistakable length of his desire. Your breath hitched at the sight, heat rushing to your cheeks, but his gaze pinned you in place, unapologetic.

Placing his hands firmly on his thighs, he leaned back ever so slightly, the motion hinting a challenge. A wicked smirk danced across his lips as he taunted, "Come here—if you dare."

You weren't one to shy away from challenges, so pleasing the infamous Lord of Crime couldn't possibly be dangerous, could it? That question went unanswered as you pushed his underwear down with anticipation, sliding it off his feet before letting it fall to the ground. It revealed the most delicious cock you had ever seen – the tip swollen, a deep pink hue, and the girth, goodness, it could stretch you deliciously.

"I see why you're so popular in society, my my," you teased, your tongue flicking gently along his base. In response, he let out a low groan, his grip tightening on the bed sheets.

"Do you really think I would bed someone who doesn’t share my ideals?" His voice was low, barely a whisper, as you felt his body tense beneath your touch. His eyes closed, a faint hiss escaping him, not from pain, but from the pleasure your actions were bringing. "And do you honestly believe I have the time for endless physical relationships?" His lips curled into a slight, mocking smile, even as he fought to keep his composure. "You couldn't be more wrong."

"So, am I privileged?" Your eyebrow arched in anticipation, a playful challenge in your gaze. As you took the tip of him into your mouth, you circled it with your tongue, feeling the salty taste of his precum linger. You couldn't help but chuckle, the vibrations sending a thrill through him, awaiting his response.

"What do you think?" William murmured, his voice laced with a soft amusement. His hand moved to your head, a gesture both tender and possessive. Slowly, his fingers combed through your hair, savoring its texture as he massaged your scalp in a soothing rhythm. And then, your lips wrapped around him, moving up and down his length in a steady rhythm, your effort evident as you fought to suppress the urge to gag. The stretch and weight of him tested your limits, but you kept going, driven by the muffled groans of your name that escaped his lips.

"Shit, name, you're gonna make me cum," he murmured, his voice hoarse with restraint. But you didn’t relent. If anything, you pushed him further, your fingers trailing down to gently massage his balls, drawing out a low, guttural groan from deep in his chest. Determined, you took him fully into your mouth, the stretch overwhelming but intoxicating, your nose brushing against the soft tickle of his blond pubes as you moved.

And just as he seemed on the verge of release, you pulled away with a mischievous grin, leaving him with a devilish expression. "Little minx," he growled, his voice low and dangerous, "do you really think you're going to get away with that?"

"With what?"

Without hesitation, he slipped his hands behind your back, flipping you beneath him with a swift yet deliberate motion. His crimson eyes burned with unrestrained desire as he aligned himself against your entrance, teasing you with the head of his length, as he rubbed it against your slit. "Now take all of me," he commanded, his voice low and thick with hunger.

Following that, he slammed into you, the slick heat of your walls wrapping around him with an almost perfect fit, causing his length to twitch with raw pleasure. "You feel incredible, darling," he murmured, his voice dripping with longing. With a slow, deliberate roll of his hips, he pushed deeper, his tip grazing your cervix. "So wet and ready, all for me," he added, his words lingering in the charged air before he closed the distance, capturing your lips in an intimate kiss – his hands roaming into your body as he explored you.

While immersed in the kiss, your bodies shifted, and before you knew it, you were straddling his lap. Your hips moved in tandem with his, rocking back and forth, taking in the fullness of his massive length and girth with each motion. Soon, you buried your face in his neck, the aroma of his cologne enveloping you. It carried a sophisticated oud note, warm and smoky, with hints of spice and leather that lingered like a signature of his power. The heat of his skin against your cheek sent a subtle hum through your body, and you couldn’t resist brushing your lips softly along the pulse at his throat, feeling its steady rhythm beneath your touch.

You felt yourself nearing the edge, and it was clear he was too—his brows furrowed, his shoulders rigid with tension. His gaze burned into your breasts, the intensity sparking a shiver through you. His fingers didn’t falter, tracing deliberate, slow circles around your sensitive areolas, the coolness of his skin sending a contrast against your warmth.

Your hands clung to his back, nails tracing faint marks as your body tightened around his cock, your climax spilling around him in a slick, glistening ring. "I... I’m going to pull out now, name," he murmured, his voice strained and pitched higher from restraint. With a sharp exhale, he withdrew, and his release followed—hot, white streaks painting your belly in messy, heated patterns.

The room is still heavy with the warmth of the moment, while William moves with purpose, his hands gentle as they clean you up, the motions slow but steady.

"Jesus, I think we really need a rest now," you mutter, voice low. "Or we won't be able to do any work tomorrow."

He laughs quietly, the sound almost lost in the stillness of the room. His fingers are careful, wiping away with a handkerchief he found in a close wooden corner table any traces of him in your skin, and replied, "it would be perfect, since our bodies need to rest. Now, let me take care of you."

Seeing a nod, William moved with a quiet grace, slipping into his silk pajamas. The fabric clung to his frame just enough to reveal the sharpness of his form, the deep midnight blue catching the light as he adjusted the cuffs with ease.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, before he stepped closer, his hands gentle as he helped you into your own nightwear. Then, he carefully dressed you, his fingers brushing against your skin as he fastened the buttons.

You lay on your right side, facing the cool edge of the bed, while he settled on the left, a small gap between you that felt oddly familiar. The blanket, thick and heavy with a soft, worn texture, was pulled up to your chins as you both adjusted into place. You reached for the lamp on the corner table, which clicked off with a soft metallic sound, leaving the room bathed in silence and the intensity of each other's gaze.

"I think we overdo it a little too much."

"...."

"I agree."

"Maybe we should just accept it...no?"

"It would be a pleasure."

[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.

[yandere-romanticaa]

It's a crime just how there's no content for this series, especially because the men in this show are just out of this world. Lucky you, I have thing for the Lord of Crime.

Hell is empty and all the devils are here - that is what William liked to tell you from time to time.

Afternoon tea with William James Moriarty and on occasion his brothers as well, was always lighthearted and enjoyable. Their home was always warm and welcoming, their smiles contagious as the sun and the food they would fill your belly with was always out of this world delicious. Playing games with William became one of your favorite hobbies ever since moving to this neighborhood the Moriarty family took an odd liking to you, William in particular. He would tease you until your ears would burn from embarrassment, his red eyes gleaming with mischief as he would sit across you, a knowing little smirk on his face. He was a bit of a bully like that but it was all in harmless fun at the end of the day. William would never take it far, he detested seeing you in a sour mood. Sometimes if he felt like it, even his elder brother Albert would join in on the fun as Louis calmly watched the commotion in the background, his stance seemingly neutral.

Yes, the Moriarty brothers were a charming little bunch. You loved being with them, you loved being with William. You couldn't deny the way in which his mere presence made your heart flutter. He was handsome, so incredibly handsome. And his unmatched wit only make him more lovable, how could you not fall for him? On the surface he really was the perfect man of anyone's dreams. One simple glance from him took your breath away, as if he somehow managed to crush your lungs with some otherworldly ability unknown to you. William James Moriarty really was the perfect man.

Which is why it became harder to ignore some of the things which disturbed you in the dark of the night.

Suspicious men would linger around the estate, like wild beasts out on a prowl. You managed to identify them as the Moriarty house staff and there was a question which would linger in your mind for ages - what in the devil were they up to in the middle of the night?

They could not be this active by their own choice, someone most definitely ordered them to make haste with whatever mysterious task they were up to. The men clearly knew what they were doing as they would always move with precision and determination, their weapons always hidden well despite being safely covered by the inky black darkness.

You lost sleep over this, monitoring them quickly bled into your evening activities. The Moriarty brothers were hardly ever spotted, it was mostly just the staff. At first you figured that you were nothing more than paranoid and was just looking for an excuse to oogle at William, which wasn't necessarily untrue either. To any random person passing by the men were doing house chores and obeying their bosses. They were good and hardworking men, you had no right to judge them for something that they clearly were not at fault for.

Things took a sharp turn once one of the men came back to the Moriarty estate with a few splatters of blood on his fine white shirt. It was carefully concealed in order to avoid suspicion and yet you still saw it.

Someone out there was dead or dying and you knew who was responsible.

There was no turning back now.

And William, ever the charmer, kept luring you in. The more you observed him the more you came to pick up on his ticks and came to the realization that he was not the simple but perfect gentleman who had so carefully crafted his image. He was like a venus flytrap and you the dumb little fly, it was inevitable that he was going to catch you one way or the other.

He found it amusing how you watched over everyone like a hawk. It could not be more obvious but he still silently praised you for your efforts. It was good to remain vigilant, especially in a cruel world like the one you both lived in. Evil and wicked men roamed on the streets freely, who knew just when one was going to snatch you up.

In your eyes, maybe he was one of those men too. Regardless, he was planning on enjoying this silent game of cat and mouse he had set up. And you never failed in taking on the bait, each and every time.

[fancyfeathers]

Just Like Rosemary

(Yandere William James Moriarty x Ballerina Reader) (feat. Platonic Yandere Louis James Moriarty and Albert James Moriarty)

inspired by this post about Williams with a historically accurate ballerina darling which was inspired by @yandere-wishes

A bit of background, during the 19th century, the ballet world, including the esteemed Paris Opera, operated under a disturbing norm of sexual exploitation. The company essentially functioned as a brothel, exploiting the vulnerability of impoverished young girls who aspired to become ballerinas. Malnourished and lacking support, these girls were often coerced into relationships with wealthy patrons, their only perceived avenue to a better life. These affluent men wielded their power to objectify and proposition the ballerinas both on and offstage, effectively creating a demeaning "men's club" atmosphere. Their influence extended beyond mere harassment, dictating who would rise to star roles and who would face dismissal from the ballet.

TW//pr*stitution, slightly graphic murder, work place abuse, implied human trafficking, kidnapping

You stepped out backstage as the performance finally ended, the applause of the audience fading away into the background as the chatter of your fellow dancers took over the sound of the back halls of the Royal Opera House. You yawned but quickly gasped as you felt arms wrap around your torso along with a high pitched giggle that you quickly placed as belonging to Sorelli, one of your friends and fellow dancers at the ballet.

“Seems like your new costume is fitting wonderfully.” She spoke with a melodic tone which made you roll your eyes as her arms slipped from your waist.

“It only took two weeks of complaints to the costuming department to get a new one.” You sighed as she came to walk next to you. You looked around the backstage, and it seemed like a few of the gentlemen from the audience had already made their way backstage, slipping away from their seats before the show had ended so they could have first pick of the ladies of the ballet. You glanced at Sorelli and she was doing the same, looking over the men present trying to pick out the ones who would be able to pay for her time. “Your rent is due, huh?”

“Yes, and I do not think my landlady will be willing to take a late payment this time around.” You were slightly tempted to stay and help her but looking over the people present you thought it better if you did not since you had already engaged in more unsavory activities the night prior and it seems like Sorelli recognized this as well since she leaned over to whisper in your ear. “You should head home before they come into the dressing rooms.”

“Will you be alright?” You asked and she nodded before pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Fine, but please promise me you will not go home with any of them, you remember what happened to Rosemary.”

“I promise, you have my word.” 

With those words you scampered off to the dressing rooms to avoid any flings that may take place in there tonight. You managed to avoid many of the clientele on the way to the dressing rooms, only receiving a handful of comments and compliments that you responded to with false gratitude in your voice.

“I could not take my eyes off you this evening.”

“Thank you Earl, you are too kind.”

“The way your body moves was mesmerizing.”

“O-oh, thank you, my lord.”

“Ah why don’t you join us for drinks, I have a friend I would like to introduce you to.”

“Oh no thank you, perhaps another night.”

You clicked the dressing room door locked as you began to remove your pointe shoes and slip out of your costume, hanging it up on the rack by your name label on the wall and placing the shoes in a box underneath it. You made note of your worn down shoes, it had only been two weeks but it seems like you would need a new pair sooner than later, but to find ones that actually fit you would cost more money than you currently had so you would probably have to settle on some that were a side to big or small.

You sighed as you slipped on your scarf as you stepped out of the dressing room, closing the door behind you. You managed to spot Sorelli talking to two gentlemen, a viscount and earl you believe, in a doorway, it seems like she will be able to pay rent tonight. You slipped through the back halls of the opera house, ignoring the sounds from all around you as hard as they were to drown out.

You pushed open one of the back doors of the opera house that led into a back alley and the cold winter hair hit your skin like cold water washing away sweat from your hot skin after a summer’s day. You began your long walk home through the dark streets of London, the streets were still populated enough that no one would try anything but it did not stop you from feeling the heat of eyes burning into your skin. You picked up your pace ever so slightly as you felt it begin to drizzle, you did not wish to catch a cold in this weather, you did not have the money to pay for a doctor right now. 

…and it seems you spoke too soon.

A carriage moved past you, the wheel driving through a puddle and the splash landed on you, soaking you to the bone with both water and mud. The carriage did not even stop when you saw the face of someone finally dressed peer out and completely ignored you, speeding down the street. You huffed and shook out your hands  to get the freezing water off of them.

“Miss, are you alright- oh my you are soaking!” You heard a voice from behind you exclaimed. You turned around to see a young man with blond hair and scarlet red eyes, he was dressed in fine clothes, a noble it seemed, but his eyes were filled with worry for your freezing form. You watched as he stepped towards you, removing his own jacket to wrap around your shoulders. “What on earth are you doing out in this weather?”

“I could ask you the same thing, sir.” You replied as his gloved hands pulled the jacket tighter around your shaking form. “But I am fine, really, I was just on my way home.”

“Then please let me escort you home, you will catch a cold out in this weather .” He said and he gestured to the carriage across the way and you could see the silhouettes of two other men within. “I am sure my brothers would have no problem with a detour on the way home.”

Remember what happened to Rosemary.

Those words you spoke echoed in your mind as you thought of a response as the scarlet eyed man looked at you. You remember the cries of Sorelli when you found out what happened while you could only stand there, wide eyed, in shock. The photos that were published in the paper were horrific, but the truth was never written and went unspoken by the girls of the ballet. You suppose money can buy anything and everything, even silence.

“Are you alright over there, William?” A voice from one of the two men in the carriage pulled you back into reality. You turned your head to the carriage to see an attractive brown haired man who opened the door to call out to his brother.

“Yes, Miss (Name) here just seemed to be out of it for a moment.” He replied to the man who nodded at his response. The man you now knew as William turned to you once more, extending his hand out to you. “Shall we?”

“I… um….” What happened to Rosemary was a rare occurrence, right? These were not the same people you last saw here with, besides they did not seem to be regulars at the ballet, you would recognize them if they were, then William gave you his coat in the freezing cold, no one, let alone a noble, has ever done something like that for you. You set your own hand in his, feeling his larger fingers wrap around the back of your hand. “Yes, I will take you up on that offer.”

“Lovely.” He led you towards the carriage that had the door open from when the brown haired man called out. William braced your arm as you stepped up into the carriage, along with the assistance of the brown haired man who helped you up by offering you his hand.

 You sat down across from the two other gentlemen in the carriage, the brown haired man and another blond haired man who looked almost identical to William besides the glasses he wore and the hair that seemed to cover a scar of sorts. You did not make eye contact with either of them despite the kind smiles they offered you as William said something to the driver before stepping in and sitting alongside you, his arm pressing against your shoulder that was covered by the jacket he had given you.

You felt the carriage begin to move as you just tried to remind yourself this was not going to end like Rosemary, they were just taking home, nothing else, you were perfectly safe, but what if-

“Miss (Name), are you alright? You look quite pale.” The voice of William stopped you from spiraling even deeper. You jumped at first but managed to regain your composure, but that did not go unnoticed by the three brothers.

“Y-yes, just caught up in my thoughts, apologies.” You responded and he hummed in response and you all were resolved to silence for a moment before you mustered up the courage to speak again. “What brings you to this side of the city, sir-“

“William James Moriarty, but please just call me William, and to answer your question, I was just attending a meeting with one of my clients.” He cut you off as you tried to remember his name. He extended his hand, gesturing to his two brothers, the blonde first and then the brunette. “These are my brothers, Louis and Albert.”

You pieced the names together in your mind…

…Louis James Moriarty.

…Albert James Moriarty.

You had heard the name of the brown haired man before, whispered in conversation of the nobles after shows at the ballet when you were hanging on one of their arms. You learned quite a lot when listening in to those conversations, gossip and dirty secrets kept in hushed tones among the nobility, and even a few names, the Earl you sat across from being one of them.

“Earl Moriarty, correct?” You asked and an almost embarrassed smile came across the man’s face.

“Yes, but how did you know?” He asked, a playful curiosity coming into his voice.

“I am a ballerina at the Royal Opera House.” You answer but not one of the brother’s expressions turned to one of shock, it is as if they already knew. “It is honestly surprising what you learn when the aristocracy get drunk and already have no filter around someone they already deem as insignificant- I should not have said that, apologies.”

“No need to apologize, I promise no one here will be offended.” William responded on Albert’s behalf with a small laugh, you glanced at Albert for confirmation and he nodded along with a smile. William’s red eyes fixed on you as your gaze went from Albert to him. “Now I am curious, what does a lady like you hear from such nobility?”

“Well mostly meaningless gossip, whose wives are having affairs with other men, failed business deals or scams, but currently the unknown Lord of Crime has caught the attention of the ton.” You looked at William as you spoke, unable to see the narrowing eyes of Albert and Louis as you did. “But I suppose none of it truly applies to me, just something to listen to in order to pass the time of the last few hours of the work day.”

“Hm, but would your day not end at the end of the performance?” You heard Louis chime in, finally hearing him speak. You shook your head no, your smiling fading ever so slightly. “How so?”

“One unfamiliar with the ballet may be surprised by what happens within those walls.” Your eyes fell down to your skirt, your gloved hands gripping the fabric of it as you spoke. “ It is not all as beautiful as it may seem after the show.” 

You jumped a bit when you felt and saw William’s hand come to rest atop your own, his thumb running circles over your knuckles. Your eyes shot up to him and he offered you a comforting smile.

“It is alright, you can tell us.”

“You… you promise you will not tell a soul that I told you this.”

“You have our word, my dear.”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Albert who nodded in agreement, then at Louis who also nodded in agreement, then back at William. He smiled down at you with those lovely scarlet red eyes and it felt like any hesitation melted away.

“Well… after shows many gentlemen of the aristocracy will come to… socialize with the female performers of the ballet.” Everyone’s attention and gazes were fixed on you as you began to explain. “Sometimes it is just harmless flirting with some conversation and drinks, other times it becomes a bit… more. But it pays, keeps a roof over my head and enough food on my plate so I don’t starve.”

“I see….” You did not notice the drop in William’s voice as he responded and pondered over what you just explained. “And I could imagine the money one would make if one was to go home with one of them for the evening.”

“That… that does not happen anymore, not since Rosemary.” 

“Rosemary?”

“She was another ballerina at the opera like myself, I performed alongside her and her sister, Sorelli.” You responded to Louis, explaining who she was. “She was a kind lady, too kind for her own good. She went with some Baron after a performance, she told us that she would see us in the morning but that was a lie. Two weeks later, a shop owner, a tailor I think, found her body in the river, gutted like a fish.”

“That must have been horribly hard for you.” Albert was the first to respond after hearing your explanation.

“What I went through was nothing compared to what Sorelli went through. I remember her crying when we found out, it was after a performance and I had to drag her away to not start a scene, but you can’t blame her, the law enforcement did not even bother telling her until the death was published by the papers.” You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you recalled that horrible day, there was not even a funeral, just the grave marked when the body was identified. You had taken Sorelli to visit the grave and she was just broken. “But that is not the worst part, that man still goes to the ballet and even paid off the owner, every single girl there knows he did it but no one will say anything, not if they value their life.”

“I am sure they will receive their punishment in due time.” William spoke to you after a moment, his hand coming up from your hand that he held and up to your cheek to wipe away your salty tears. The leather felt warm against your cheek, from the heat between your hands. “I will see to it personally.”

“If only the world worked like that.” 

The rest of the carriage ride was peaceful, a few more pleasantries exchanged here and there but soon enough you arrived outside of the apartment building you lived in. Like before, William helped you out of the carriage and as soon as your feet touched the ground he took your hand that he held and brought it up to his lips, kissing the back of it.

“It was a pleasure finally meeting you, Miss (Name).”

“It was a pleasure to meet you as well, William.” 

He released your hand and you quickly made your way inside the warm apartment building and scurried up into your own one room apartment, it was not much but it was home. Your landlord finally repaired the ceiling so it would not leak during the rain and freeze you during the winter, but you still had to stuff whatever extra bedding you had in the window because it would never close all the way. 

You went to remove your coat, only to find that you were still wearing William’s coat, you had forgotten to return it and he forgot to take it back. You sighed and peered out the window, the carriage was gone so you doubted you would be able to return it now so you simply decided to hand it up alongside your own clothes in the closet. As you were beginning to strip out of your wet clothes to change into a nightdress, you reflected on your conversation with the three brothers, they were so kind to you especially when you mentioned such a sour topic as murder. Then the way William looked at you, it was like he knew you better than any man alive, like those lovers who attend performances with one another and they gaze into each other’s eyes when the romantic music begins to swell…

You felt your breathing stop…

You pushed yourself to turn your head to gaze out the window once more…

Looking over the streets…

The other buildings…

The people that walked the streets and dwelled in these houses were nothing like the brothers, they were commoners and the Moriarty family was nobility, you should have no prior interactions with one another…

But how did they know your address without you telling him…

And how did he know your name…

You felt your stomach lurch at those thoughts…

Has he been watching you?

Were you going to end up like Rosemary?

—————————

A week had passed since your encounter with the Moriarty brothers and life carried on like it always had, minus the pocket knife you had bought off from one of the stagehands at the opera house. It was after another performance and you were going to go straight home with Sorelli tonight since she had begun walking you home due to your growing paranoia. You both had stepped into the dressing rooms and Sorelli immediately ran off to her own things and reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a box.

“Macarons!” She exclaimed as she opened the box and sat on the floor, gesturing for you to sit next to her. “Come on, I got these for both of us.”

“You are an actual angel, Sorelli.” You replied, going to sit down next to her, not caring about ruining your costume by sitting in it or eating in it, it was already old enough that it needed to be replaced. 

“Well with all the stress you have had as of late, it was the least I could do.” She spoke as you both reached in to grab one and you brought it up to your lips-

“What are you two doing in here?!” You heard a voice angrily shout as the dressing room door slammed open. You both gasped as your eyes shot up to see the ballet mistress in the doorway. She stomped over to you two and you immediately stood up and fell silent. You felt her eyes look you two over, scanning over you like fire covering the room. “Eating and sitting in costume, do you even care for the things you are provided? Do you know how much these cost?”

“No madam.” You both said in unison like you had been taught, along with not making eye contact with the old hag out of fear.

“Well you better pay for the damages you caused.” She snapped at the two of you, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. “I want the money for them before the opera house closes for the night, do you understand?”

“But madam, I-“

You were cut off with a sharp pain across the face as she stuck you.

“I did not ask for buts, do you understand girl?”

You had to bite back tears as you replied.

“Yes Madam.”

“Good, now fix your makeup, no man would want to be seen with a girl who looks like that.” She stated as she finally walked out the door and you finally broke, weeping in your hands. Everything has finally become too much for you. You felt Sorelli rub circles into your back.

“I hate that witch.” You muttered through your tears.

“Have to agree with you on that one.” Your fellow ballerina replied as she helped you stand up straight and wipe away your tears. “Why don’t we fix you up and we can deal with this together.”

“You are too sweet for your own good.”

Sorelli sat you down and began to do your make up again, cleaning up the tear stains on your cheeks and taking special care to hide away the red hand print that was forming on your skin. You sadly had to put the box of treats away to enjoy some other time since you did not wish to get caught again. 

“I can take care of my hair, Sorelli.” You said as you picked up the brush from the vanity. “You can go on ahead, I think I will find that viscount that is here tonight.”

“Alright, see you at closing?”

“I will see you then.”

You watched as she scampered out of the dressing room and you began to brush through your hair in near silence minus the chatter and other noises from outside the dressing room walls. Sometimes with Sorelli it did not even seem like she had a sister, her name had become a warning among the dancers of the ballet so that is what Rosemary’s identity had melted into.

“You look lovely tonight.” Your eyes shot up into the mirror when you heard that voice and in the reflection of the glass you saw those same red eyes from that carriage ride once more, Williams was standing behind you and you did not even notice.

“Thank you… William.” He stepped towards you again, his feet clicking against the old wood floor. You felt his hand slip into your own, grabbing the brush you held and he took a strand of your hair and began brushing through it himself.

“You have been crying, your eyes are swollen under your makeup.” He stated this as a matter of fact and you could only nod as he brushed through a knot. “Now why do you stain your face with such tears? What is wrong, my dear?”

“Everything, everything is wrong.”

“Everything?”

“Yes, there is not a day I don’t imagine leaving this hell hole, but there is no day where I do because I have nowhere to go. The way they look at me and touch me, it feels like I am nothing but just something for their amusement.” You wrapped your arms around your shaking form as you tried to hold back your tears. “The sometimes it feels like Sorelli has all but forgotten what happened to Rosemary, she is in the ground now.”

“Oh you poor thing, I was in the audience tonight and I have to admit I noticed their looks as well, a terrible thing for you to go through.” He pulled a little harder as he combed through a tangle. “But as for your friend, I am sure she will come to terms with her grief in time, sometimes it just takes action in order to recover.”

“I just wish this all would go away, I want none of it, I just want to see this place burn up in smoke and flames.”

“Then your wish is my command.” Before you could question his words he spoke as he tied up your hair with a ribbon. He reached into his pocket and took out more than enough money to pay back the ballet mistress. “Why don’t you go home early, I am sure you need your rest after such a long day.”

“Thank you, William.”

After he left the dressing room, you scampered to get changed so you may go and find Sorelli. You made your way through the halls looking for her and you found her in the oddest of places with the oddest of people, you found her near the entrance to the storage cellars talking to.

“Lord Albert? Sorelli?” You called out to the duo who were talking, but they did not seem to share the same playful chatter as most others in the building did. Sorelli and the eldest Moriarty brother looked at you with a bit of surprise.

“Oh (Name), are you ready to go?” She asked, a false smile coming across her face.

“Um… yes, are you not coming?”

“Oh well, Lord Albert and I were just having the most interesting conversation.” She replied, gesturing to the man beside her. “I think I would like to talk to him a bit longer if you would like to head home.”

“Talking? About what?”

“Pyrotechnics.” Albert answered on her behalf and your gaze shifted to him. “Some theaters in the Americas and France are using them in their stage performances.”

“Sounds dangerous.” You replied and your eyes shifted back at her, you were about to say something, but sighed, deciding to let it go. “I am going to head home, I already paid both of our portions to the old hag so just head home when you are done.”

“I will.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow.” You turned on your heel and began walking down the hall, slowly…

You waited for a reply but all you got was a simple…

“Goodbye.”

—————————

“Fire at the Royal Opera House: Three Dead, Ten Casualties.”

That was the first headline you saw in the morning when you picked up this morning’s paper from a newsboy. 

You threw up on the spot.

Apparently after the opera house closed last night, a candle fell over and ignited the whole building, or at least that was the most logical guess but the other part of it was a mystery. Two men were found with bullet holes in their heads in the rubble while a girl was simply found, most likely suffocated to death…

Sorelli…

Not only were you out of the job but your best friend was dead.

You raced to the scene immediately, your warm breath showing white fog in the cold as you ran through the streets of London like a mad woman. Then upon arriving at the sight, all that was left was the burnt ruins of the opera house. The sight was being contained by law enforcement since the ruins were still smoking and the sight was being investigated. You could see three bodies, covered in a black tarp in the the distance, two larger and one smaller…

Sorelli…

She did not deserve this…

No…

Please god no…

You must have stood in the street for hours, just staring at your friend’s dead body in shock…

Just like you did when Rosemary died…

You had to be told to go home by one of the officers since you looked exhausted, so you did.

Your mind just felt numb…

You felt dead…

Why…

Why…

Why…

You pushed yourself back inside your apartment building and your landlord who was reading the morning paper, the same edition as the one you bought, looked up at you.

“Someone is here to see you, I let him into your apartment.” You nodded at his statement and as you went to walk up stairs he spoke again. “Oh and rent is due by the end of the week.”

You gritted your teeth…

Selfish bastard…

He is literally reading about how you just lost your best friend and job and that is what he says.

You rolled your eyes and walked back upstairs, not even remembering the fact that you have a guest. You pushed open your already partially opened apartment door and you immediately dropped your keys and paper…

“William… what are you doing here?”

William James Moriarty sat on your bed, holding his coat he gave you that night in his hands. He looked up at you with a smile, but this time it did not feel kind, it felt almost wicked.

“I am here to take you home.”

“Home?”

“Yes, with the opera house burnt down I figured that you would be out of the job so the least I could do was provide you with a safe place to rest your head.” Your lips were slightly agape in shock when he said those words. He looked at you, a new pity coming into his eyes. “I am also here to extend my condolences for your loss.”

“Sorelli…”

“Yes, I am afraid so.” He nodded at your words as he stood up from the bed. “We tried to get her out before she got trapped in the flames, but she just would not listen.”

Your eyes went wide when he said those words and you felt your heart stop beating in your chest.

“What…”

“She told me to tell you to live for both her and Rosemary and told me to take care of you since she knew you would be quite grief stricken.” You felt your mind grow numb again in shock as he continued to speak. “She did it for you, she did not want to see you end up like her sister.”

“She… she did what?”

“Well she murdered both the owner of the opera house and the man who killed her sister.” You felt the bile building up in your throat as he began to explain again. “The fire… that was her idea, to burn it all away so you would never have to go back there.”

“Oh my god…”

“I know it must be a lot to take in, my dear.” You felt William’s ungloved hand come to rest against your check, raising your head up to look at him. “But I will be here to help you through it, my brothers as well. Louis already has your room prepared, and Albert was expressing to me at breakfast how happy you will be there-“

“Don’t touch me!” 

You slapped his hand away, backing up towards your door. Your eyes were wide with both rage and fear.

“Dearest-“

“You are the Lord of Crime, aren’t you?” You cut him off, raising your eyes to look up at him. William’s smiling expression had all but disappeared at your words and instead was replaced by something darker. “You knowing my name, where I lived, it all makes sense, you were trying to kill those two men all along.”

“While you are not incorrect with your first guess, you are with your second.” He stepped towards you after you stepped back. “I was originally looking for someone to assist in the removal of those two men but when I was looking into you, you were just too pure to do such an act.”

“What… what are you on about?”

“You have been tossed around all your life, forced into this work by your mother and kicked out when you said you did not want to do it anymore. Then your ballet mistress, who abused you for even making a mistake. Then those men, who took advantage of you because of your weak state.” You were frozen as he finally stood before you again. “Did you even know that you were the next target of the man who killed Rosemary?”

“…no…”

“You were, and if it was not for me and your late friend, you would be dead.” The breath left your lungs as he spoke. You could barely process the feeling of him draping his coat over your shoulders, just like that night when you first met. “She told me to take care of you and who am I to refuse a request from a dying woman?”

You did not process anything after he spoke those words…

Not you being led downstairs by him…

Not him handing over your keys to the landlord…

Not him taking you outside…

Not him helping you into the carriage…

Not the carriage beginning to move as William placed a kiss upon your lips, just like all the men who have done that before….

The only thought that came into your mind came to you as William laid your head in his lap as you began to daze off into sleep…

…You were just like Rosemary.

[married-to-google-translater]

Yandere sherlock with a darling who smart and sneaky but she weak in health

Yandere Sherlock Holmes

You and Sherlock met each other on the ship. At first, he probably wouldn't care much for you. But he would change his mind when he realized your intelligence.

After this, everything would change.

Oh you would be a perfect couple. At least that's what Sherlock would think. You can really help him out a lot with solving crimes.

He just didn't remember to ask your opinion.

Just a small Yandere mistake :3

Sherlock would ask for help on many cases. You would make him think better. This would just be a fact. Also a great way to get to know you better. This would eventually lead to dating.

Dating wouldn't last that long. Yandere gotta do what Yandere gotta do.

Your health would affect the plans a lot. He would slowly try to figure out your limitations and strengths.

Sherlock would try to support your needs and health. He'd probably quit smoking inside if you asked him to.

He doesn't say it often but he cares about you a lot.

However, he also makes sure he can't leave. At best, this would be an exciting game of cat and mouse.

[p-seduonym]

Being the Maid of Yandere Louis James Moriarty

A/N: I kinda winged this one, if you can’t tell already. Enjoy, or don’t, I guess. Do whatever.

You were a maid at the Rockwell estate.

Fairly young, you had worked there for your entire life.

Your days consisted of tedious chores, cooking and cleaning mostly.

That is until Lord Rockwell suddenly took in three wards.

You heard passing rumors from other servants, about the incident at the Moriarty manor.

The count and his wife, along with all of their servants, tragically lost their lives in a terrible fire. Nothing was spared, except the count’s children, who were left orphaned.

Although no one seemed to mention the adopted child that had also perished in the fire…

You felt pity for the boys, only a few years younger than yourself. Especially the youngest.

The eldest son, Albert, was busy with duties as the heir to the earldom while the second son, William, was soon enrolled in school.

That left the youngest, Louis, alone.

And, although you don’t like to admit it, you felt slight trepidation at first. 

The boys were withdrawn, which could only be expected, but they didn’t seem to have an air of grief about them. More so, the atmosphere appeared almost like a cold sense of resolution.

But, when you laid eyes on his bandaged face, you felt guilty for your thoughts.

Ashamed, you made it a point to be especially kind to the boys. But, your efforts mostly went to Louis, who remained in the house most of the time.

Initially, Louis was rather confused by your attention. You seemed to go out of your way to speak with him. Whether it was just greeting him or asking how his day was.

He didn’t know why you were so interested in him, rather than Albert, the eldest, or William, the prodigy. 

Most people disregarded him, the adopted, scarred boy from the slums, with neither age or intelligence to make him stand out in a particular way.

Still, he remained cordial to you. He was even somewhat grateful to learn firsthand how to manage a household.

Soon enough, it became common for the two of you to be seen together, whether it was doing laundry, washing dishes, or cooking in the kitchen.

It was tedious work that you were used to, but you enjoyed the time with Louis.

And you couldn’t help but think he did as well.

As time passes, Louis becomes gradually less distant, his smile becoming less of a pleasantry, more genuine.

He would also leave small gifts for you, be it a small pastry he claimed he made too much of or a flower he said was out of place in a bouquet he picked.

You're pleased by this change. Ignoring etiquette, you sometimes gently ruffled his hair just to see him get flustered. Or you would hug him to coax a smile out of him.

If someone saw the two of you, they would have seen an older sister teasing her brother.

And it felt that way. For you, at least. For Louis…

It felt odd to think of you in such a way.

William mentions, offhandedly, how close the two of you seem to be.

Louis is startled by this observation. He’d never been particularly close to anyone except William, and Albert, to an extent.

He quickly assured his brother that you were just a maid, an innocent servant that knew nothing.

But William only smiles and says he’s happy to see Louis enjoying himself. 

With his brother’s (seeming) blessing, Louis reconsiders his feelings about you.

It was obvious you viewed him as a younger sibling, if your physical affection said anything. But why did that frustrate him?

He wanted to be the only one you smiled at with that beautiful smile of yours. He felt irritated whenever you gave one in passing to a male servant.

Fortunately, it was easy to use his young age to his advantage. He would grab at your skirt like a child trying to get someone’s attention. It was shameless, but effective as you would turn to him with a smile.

Or he would pretend to be confused about how to prepare a meal, just to have your attention to himself.

It was easy when he was younger, but those tricks wouldn’t work as he got older.

So how could he keep you to himself?

As years passed, the two of you grew older.

Your relationship now turned a few more heads. Why would a simple maid be so close to the son of a count? You heard this among other whispers as you passed servants in the halls.

It was endearing, at first, to see a maid so attentive to her young master. Now, however, it made it look as if you were just a tad too ambitious. Could you be trying to raise your social status by seducing a young nobleman?

The entire idea scandalized you so much that you made an effort to shape up, acting more professional around Louis, who obviously notices you becoming more distant.

It’s difficult trying to maintain a proper relationship, between a servant and their master, with him. But you figured it was for the best, since he came of age and wouldn’t remain in the Rockwell estate forever.

This was inevitable, and you had resigned yourself to that…

Louis, however…

He isn't oblivious to the rumors, so he doesn’t blame you for becoming distant. However, he refuses to accept this. You’ve become someone precious to him.

So, he asks his brother for his advice…

For reasons unknown to you, your life had become increasingly hostile at the Rockwell manor. Rumors followed you everywhere, along with disdainful looks. You noticed items of yours disappearing. Pins were stuck in your uniform and broken glass in your shoes.

Who would do such a thing?

Your only solace was Louis, who remained loyal even in the wake of your distant behavior towards him. He comforted you as you confessed all that happened.

Ultimately, it all culminates in someone - you only saw a shadow - pushing you down the large staircase, causing you to break a leg. The one who found you lying at the base in a heap was Louis…

Carrying you to the servant’s quarters, Louis softly proposes something to you.

Albert has purchased a house, in the quiet town of Durham. Somewhat old, but furnished. He and his brothers were to move there soon.

As he bandages your leg, he asks for you to come with him. He can’t bear to see you suffer here any longer. There won’t be too much work, his brothers and he weren’t demanding. There was always a place for you.

As you tear up and hug him, for the first time in a while, Louis smiles to himself.

[nosyp]

A Favor to the Devil

A/N = Errmm... I tried decorating it.... let me know what y'all think (i personally think it's kinda weird😭) Anyway, this story was way darker then I envisioned it so I'll probably make a lesser dark version later on. But momentarily, deal with whatever this is. 🙏 This is for @sakisakichacoreakin (sorry it was so late).

Warnings = smut🔞, debts, favors, manipulation, dark themes, dubious consent, toxic relationships, power imbalance, marking, p in v sex, threats, spit play, choking, aftercare

Pairings = William James Moriarty x fem! reader x Louis James Moriarty

Summary = Drawn into the Moriarty brothers' dangerous world, you're trapped in their dark, obsessive game with no escape.

Word count = 3.4k

Read story below 👇 (Please read warnings before reading)

The rain was pouring outside, drops of rain slamming onto the ground with a loud thud, dispersing particles in every direction around it. The steady rhythm of the water droplets created an almost hypnotic beat, the sound reverberating against the walls and filling the air with a damp, heavy scent. The precipitation put a thick coat of water along the roads.  It was as though the world had been submerged in water, each droplet joining the others in a relentless, natural rhythm. The air was humid, moist. That’s how you knew something was coming. 

You didn’t mean to come in contact with the dangerous William James Moriarty, nor his brother. But alas, the fate was sealed, and now you were heading to their residence, the very home where they stayed, hung and spent time in. There was nothing friendly or welcoming about it, as expected from the blonde Moriarty duo– William James Moriarty and Louis James Moriarty. 

You stood outside, in the cold rain, hesitating and rethinking your decision. The door felt so close… so alarming... You could feel the presence of the two brothers from the outside, despite being across the street from the building. Swallowing your pride, you clutched the handles of your umbrella, and walked towards the other side of the road, vehicles stopping at the sight of you.

The umbrella somehow started to get increasingly heavy, not from the rain, but from the pressure mounting on you. The temperature outside was freezing cold—the rain unrelenting, pouring down for hours with no sign of stopping. You could feel the weight of the moisture, the quiet anticipation hanging in the air as the distance between you and the door decreased. Each splash from the droplets felt like a cold, sharp sting against your skin, but it was the tension in the air that really weighed you down, making it harder to breathe.

You hadn’t intended to cross paths with the family at all. After listening to all those stories and rumours going around the town, you feared —no, terrified— of them. Every detail, thing, or story you’ve ever heard about them was cruel. 

At first, they’d lure you in with promises of an end, a solution to all your problems, wrapped in the guise of salvation. They offered it so easily, like a gift you couldn’t refuse. But if you even dared to reject it, they’d hang that offer over your head, a constant reminder of what you could’ve had, taunting you until the end of your life. It became your burden, a silent threat that weighed on your every decision.

Then, once you’d finally break, they’d start to take advantage of you. They’d use you and use you til you were soaked dry of all your dignity, independence, and worth. And that was the exact cycle you fell into.

You had a dirty little secret, a secret nobody would or should know. That secret was something you’d wanted to take to the grave with you. Never let it out of your own space. But somehow it reached the pair of brothers.

—

Flashback

“Y/N, I believe you have… a problem.” a blonde says, crimson red eyes piercing right through you.

Hearing that voice, you turned around, only to be met with your future tormentor. It was midnight, almost pitch-black outside, the street light flickering serving as your only source of light. You couldn’t see him clearly at all, but you could see his silhouette and that was enough for you to confirm his identity. 

“H-huh…?” you said, stammering. Surely, giving him a great first impression of you.

He wasn’t alone. No, he never was. He always had his brother, Louis, or one of his lackeys following him around. You didn’t doubt his strength, nor his power in any way, shape or form. But you know anything that had to do with him wasn’t any good.

“Well I have an---------” he says, voice ringing in your ear… before your memory started to blank out.

—

The devil couldn’t reach you, so he sent William James Moriarty. 

Your heart was pounding as you extended your hand towards the door knob. The entrance to their house was dark… terrifying. You’d much prefer to be anywhere else than here, even drowning in a sea of piranhas is better than whatever bullshit he put you through. 

Trembling, your cold fingers wrapped around the door knob… before turning it and pushing it.

Click.

The door revealed nothing but a pitch-black void, a suffocating darkness that seemed to stretch infinitely. The air was thick, pressing against your chest and making it harder to breathe. You could feel it, even before you saw them. It was as if they were already inside, their eyes trained on you from the shadows, waiting.

Your hand shook as it lingered on the door handle, the cold metal burning against your skin. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to turn around, to run, to go back. But you couldn’t. The moment you’d stepped into their world, was the moment your whole life would change. And there was no escape from it.

The door creaked as you pushed it open, the sound sharp in the silence. A low murmur stirred from the darkness, the sound of a presence moving toward you. The faintest silhouette of William appeared, his pale blonde hair catching the dim light, his crimson eyes gleaming with something dark… something cruel.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice smooth, almost too calm, as if everything was under his control. You could feel the venom in his words, the subtle threat dripping with every syllable that spilled out of his mouth.

Louis followed, his steps echoing softly behind you. The younger Moriarty’s gaze flicked over to you, piercing through your clothes, through your skin, straight into your soul. There was something predatory in his stare, something that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

“You didn’t think you could come here and leave unscathed, did you?” Louis’s voice was a low, guttural whisper, a promise of suffering that hung in the air like a fog.

You didn’t answer. There was nothing left to say.

You were already too deep.

The door slammed shut behind you, the sound reverberating through your bones, sealing you in. You were trapped in their world now, a world where every decision you made was controlled, every move calculated, every breath you took was theirs to command. You could feel the weight of their gaze on you, their presence wrapping around you like a noose, tightening with every passing second.

William stepped closer, his footsteps slow, deliberate. “I wonder… How long will it take before you beg?” His fingers brushed your cheek, the touch cold but searing, sending an electric jolt down your spine.

Louis moved behind you, his breath hot against your neck. “Begging might be a bit too soon,” he mused, his fingers tracing along your shoulder with the precision of someone who had done this too many times to count. “But we’ll get there. In time.”

Your body was betraying you. The fear, the terror, the humiliation… it was all there, but so was the unbearable pull toward them. You knew they had you. You knew it before you even walked in the door.

And you hated yourself for it. But there was nothing you could do now. 

You felt a shiver run down your spine as William’s presence loomed closer, his form now towering over you. His fingers trailed down your throat, a whisper of pressure, delicate yet firm. His eyes held a knowing gleam, a predator toying with its prey, and it sent a surge of heat rushing through you. You hated that you felt it.

"Do you feel it?" William’s voice was barely a whisper, a dark and sultry invitation. “The pull... toward us?”

You couldn’t speak. You didn’t know how to answer him, because deep down, you were starting to wonder if you even wanted to fight it anymore. The weight of everything—the fear, the disgust, the inevitability of it all—sat heavy in your chest. And yet, there was a strange allure, something magnetic, pulling you toward them like a moth to a flame.

Louis stepped forward, his hand sliding along your waist with casual ease, his breath fanning over your ear. “You’ve been running from us, haven’t you?” His voice was a soft purr, his tone dripping with amusement. “But now, here you are. Finally giving in.”

You tried to step back, but the movement felt like a joke. There was no space. No room to breathe. Louis was there, right behind you, a breath away from trapping you. And William… William was in front of you, his gaze predatory and intense, watching every subtle shift of your body as if he could read every thought you were trying to suppress.

"You don't get to decide, little bird." William’s fingers tightened, the grip around your throat firm yet not painful, just enough to make you feel the weight of his control over you. His other hand reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch unbearably gentle for someone who had already shown you the darkness of his world.

And you hated that, in that moment, you wanted more of it.

Louis’s hand slid lower, a playful caress along your side, before he leaned in, his lips brushing your neck as he whispered, “Tell me, Y/N... Do you want us? Or are you still pretending that you don’t?” The warmth of his breath against your skin was enough to make your pulse quicken, an ache settling deep within you.

You wanted to push them away, to scream at them to let you go, but your body betrayed you. The warmth in your veins, the strange heat that was blooming under their touch, made it impossible to think straight.

“You’re going to give in,” William murmured, his thumb brushing over your pulse. “Whether you like it or not.”

Louis chuckled softly from behind you, his voice low and dark, “And it’ll be beautiful, Y/N. You’ll see. You’re not leaving here the same.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as the reality of it all hit you. You were trapped. Completely, utterly trapped. And there was no escape from the Moriarty brothers. Not anymore.

William’s grip on your throat loosened, just slightly, but his eyes never left yours. “I hope you’ve been prepared for what’s coming, little bird. Because once you’re ours, you’ll never be able to escape.”

And that sealed your fate. Now you were their property.

—

In the blink of an eye, you found yourself trapped beneath William, his body pressing down on yours as his hands planted firmly beside your head on the bed. The bedsheets underneath you were soft, brushing your skin so gently with every movement. You didn’t doubt that it was made of the most-expensive silk ever found. 

“Are you ready Y/N?” he asks darkly, but you knew it wasn’t even a question. More of a warning of what’s to come.

William lifts one of his hands to unbutton your sweater, while the other leans on the bed, the mattress visibly dipping to the side under his weight. He expertly uses one hand to undo the buttons, one by one. His body heat was radiating to you, providing you with a faint warmth.

That was until his demeanour changed. Before you could even react to the shift in his expression, he grabbed your chin with a forceful grip, tilting your head up to make you look into his eyes. His hand forced you to open your mouth and his eyes gleamed with something dark, something unnerving. Without a word, he let a thick stream of spit fall into your mouth. The action was sudden, almost cruel, leaving you frozen in place as a twisted smile tugged at his lips.

Then you felt Louis's hand grip the edge of your pants, giving them a firm tug. His hands then tugged a bit more, and he pulled them off with one swift motion. It revealed your underwear, it was a lacy, pink victoria secret underwear that you didn’t mean to wear. It was only your last pair, so you were practically forced to. But you probably wouldn’t can’t blame them for thinking it was for them.

“Oh… What is this?” William says, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

His long fingers land on your panties, tracing the lace pattern. “Was… this perhaps for us?” he asks.

Fuck no. But that’s not what you say of course.

“Y-yes…” you mutter underneath your breath, gaze looking in any other direction but his eyes.

Following that, he ripped your panties apart with just his arms. The sound of the fabric tearing was horrifyingly loud. He tore at your shirt after that, the fabric giving way under his hands like it was nothing.

Soon enough, your whole body was revealed to the two brothers. They had been ogling at you since you first met them, and you knew this was just going to make it worse.

In a flash of a second, William was tapping his tip onto you… it was dripping with precum and was a flushed red. He pushed it in slowly, letting you adjust to his girth before starting to thrust in and out of you.

Thwap Thwap Thwap

The sound of his skin slapping onto yours echoed around the room, repeating repeatedly in and out of your ears. The heat inside you grew the more he went on. “Mh- Mhh!” your moans silenced by your unwillingness to let him win.

Louis's hand closed around yours, pulling it up with a deliberate motion. He moved your hand to wrap around his cock, making you stroke him while William was still thrusting deep inside you.

The pleasure began to build relentlessly, an electric current racing through your veins, each pulse sending waves of overwhelming dopamine flooding your senses. It was almost too much, but you couldn’t pull away… couldn’t stop.

“M-mmh!! Wi-William!” a moan escaped from your mouth, voice filled with plead. Plead for… more…? Or for less…? 

Your mind spun, thoughts colliding in a chaotic whirlwind. It was like trying to catch fragments of your sanity in the storm, each one slipping through your fingers just as quickly as you could hold onto it. Which was… for a fleeting moment. Like a flash.

The room was dark and it felt like the walls were closing in on you despite you not being able to see them. Everything leading up to this moment was… destiny.

A destiny you could not escape. Them.

Louis’s hands guided yours to help you pump his cock, your hand matching his pace. While William’s rough thrusts hit your cervix over and over again, sending you into a spiral.

“F-Fuck!” you let out.

It felt like your high was coming, a slow burn that built with every touch, every pulse of pleasure. The world around you faded, everything but the electric buzz coursing through you … becoming distant and unimportant. Your breath quickened as the overwhelming sensation crept closer, the tension tightening in your chest.

That was until… William suddenly stopped and his face started huddling in your neck. His lips pressed onto your neck and started nibbling on the spots, leaving behind dark marks, staying as a reminder of who owns you. 

His assault on your neck didn’t last too long for it to become unbearable but enough for it to feel traumatizing. He slowly lifted his face from your neck, his breath still warm against your skin. For a moment, he was unnervingly quiet, and the silence only made you more uneasy. You could feel his gaze lingering on you, calculating, as though you were a puzzle he had yet to solve.

Then, without warning, a cold sensation dripped onto your skin. The suddenness of it made you freeze in place, your breath catching in your throat. He had spat on you. The shock of it, combined with the lingering heat of his presence, made your mind spin, unsure of how to react.

“Louis, your turn.” William says in an authoritative tone.

Louis' eyes widened for just a split second, a flash of something unpredictable flickering within them before his expression returned to its usual calm composure. His lips curled into a faint, dangerous smile as he leaned in closer, his face hovering just inches from yours.

"You like that, don't you?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight of his words hung heavily in the air between you, making the tension in the room feel suffocating.

The proximity of his face, the almost imperceptible warmth of his breath brushing against your skin, it was like he was daring you to do something, to react in any way, to surprise him. But you were frozen, unsure whether to fight, flee, or give in.

Louis’ gaze never left yours, the tension between you both thickening as he leaned closer. His breath was slow and deliberate, each exhale warm against your skin. You felt his lips hovering dangerously near, but it wasn’t his kiss you had to fear. It was far from that.

Then, without a word, he tilted his head, and his eyes locked onto yours, full of knowing intent. The air around you both seemed to still as you watched him, his lips curling slightly. And then, slowly, a droplet of his saliva escaped, slowly oozing from his mouth as it landed against your lips, a cold and unexpected touch.

The sensation was jarring, different from anything you’d expected, and it made your heart race. For a moment, the world seemed to pause as you processed what had just happened, feeling the weight of his gaze, the unspoken power behind his actions.

"You think you're in control?" His voice was a low growl, each word dripping with something darker. His hand reached up to gently put back his spit into your mouth, fingers light against your skin.

"You belong to us now, little bird," he added, the words like a sharp whisper in your ear. "And you’re going to learn just how much you do."

Then, William started drilling into you again, cock pulsing in and out of you in an endless cycle. Your walls tightened around him, pulling him in more, eager to reach your high, your climax. 

And it finally came, you came. All over them. Leaving a huge giant mess of your fluids and theirs. The bed was soaked with all your cum and sweat, cum still oozing out of your wet pussy.

When everything slowed and the storm of sensations faded, Louis and William remained close, their hands soft against your skin, grounding you. Louis's touch was gentle as he cupped your face, his fingers brushing away the sweat that clung to your forehead.

“You did so well,” he murmured, his voice laced with tenderness.

William finally pulled out, leaving you feeling empty but more relaxed. And he, ever the silent guy, placed a warm hand on your lower back, rubbing soothing soft circles as if to remind you of the safety and care in this moment. “Breathe,” he whispered, his tone steady and calm.

The overwhelming tension began to ease as they helped you to sit up, one of them handing you a glass of water. You drank greedily, still catching your breath, and felt yourself starting to come back to earth.

Louis pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress. “How do you feel?”

Safe. Protected. But those words seemed too vulnerable, so you simply nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You’re alright,” William said, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “We’re not going anywhere.”

They stayed with you, no longer in the dominant roles they'd just held, but as calm anchors, ensuring you had everything you needed to feel grounded once more. The storm was over, but the connection remained, deep and unspoken.

[yandere-romanticaa]

On my knees, I'm out of breath

⋆ Anomaly ⋆

❤Summary: Reader is an anomaly. A noblewoman of foreign descent. She doesn't belong here. But oh how she wishes to burn the world down just like William.

❤Author's note: A little something for Ana (@yandere-romanticaa) I hope you enjoy it!!

❤Warnings: Reader is traumatized, Yandere behavior, killing and blood, cryptic. I swear I know how math works…I've just been slaking this summer.

There are equations written over your skin. Complex formulas he's yet to solve. Exponents and variables freckle your body, scattered shards that try to tell him something, whispering the world's secrets every time he kisses your hand. You are an anomaly he thinks. Face full of cracks where the stars seep through. You're a mistake in the universe. A perfect doll misplaced. You are something, William is almost sure of it.

At heart, William is and always will be a mathematician. It just so happens that crime and math follow the same principles. Both require diligence and practice. Carefully throughout plans of how one must approach such a conundrum. One may call it a formula or a modus operandi or anything else as jejune. But in the end, a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet.

And yet to Moriarty, you are an equation that refuses to be solved. An enigma he's desperately sought to unravel since your first meeting.

William notices something odd as you stroll down an exquisite exemplar of the golden ratio. Something the lord of crime can't fully place. You're akin to a puzzle missing far too many pieces to properly depict its picture. Maybe it's the setting he ponders as he watches you take careful steps in heeled shoes. Maybe it's the music from the ballroom or the meaningless prattle of the aristocrats that robs your form of all logic. Something is amiss with you and he's frantic to find out what it is.

William introduces himself when you reach the bottom of the staircase. He's never been one to show primary interest in the ladies. Rather he waits in the faint glow of the moonlight until someone approces him. Maybe it's the need to distinguish himself from the other aristocrats, maybe it's the repulsion for their customs and manners that refrains him from ever commencing idle chatter. Yet with you, a girl he's never met before, he finds it fitting to say hello first. To talk, about nothing and everything in the same breath. He mentions his admiration for the staircase in passing. Never expecting you to latch on to the words and morph them into the divine proportion. "My father was a mathematical enthusiast, he's passed that on to me as well." Your words slip into his veins like a narcotic, like the melody of an ancient tune lost to time.

William smiles, easy and bright like the melting rays of the desert sun. "Quite the coincidence, I'm a mathematics professor at Durham University". There's a giggle that bleeds from your rose-tainted lips. Reverberating in the chambers of his heart. "A toast then" you propose "to the lethal magnificence of calculation"

You click your champagne glass against his, as something feral festers within the young nobleman.

It's only days later when he's replaying that night in his head as he sips his afternoon tea. That he realizes your champagne glass was empty that whole time. How strange he pondered, wondering if he'd even seen you touch a single intoxicant all evening.

Four days and three sleepless nights later Williams finds himself tracing the letters of your name with tender adoration. As if he's engraving prayers upon his bones. He needs to see you again as desperately as he needs to breathe. The letter he writes is aloof, meticulous. Prying on your curiosity, hoping you'll take the bait. One miserable day later Louis delivers a letter bathed in your fragrance. Informing the lord Moriarty of your acceptance of his invitation for tea. William folds the letter with the leniency of a biologist regulating their slides. Tucking it away within his breast pocket.

You wear red when you oblige his invitation. An odd red, one that breaks his perception of the color. It's too vibrant yet too opaque. He's beginning to wonder if everything about you is an irregularity. When he ushers the conversation to your garment you merely laugh and brush it off as having belonged to your mother. There's something wrong with that reply as if the universe weeps at your every word. William watches astonished as if he's been told a secret lost to time.

It becomes a habit, an obsession, an addiction really. Tea thrice a week with the woman who plagues his dreams. He lets his cover slip between sips of tea. Permitting you glances into his dark affairs. There's a moment that breaks the norm. A bizarre instance when you ask him to spare no detail in recounting how a poor tormented man murdered the marquess that raped his wife. William stops the proclean cup mere millimeters from his lips. His voice dies in his throat as his mind races to find an appropriate way to tell a lady such a bloody tale. For a second reality slips away.

Reality has a tendency to slip away unnoticed when he's with you.

You weave William tales of foreign lands that sound like they belong in children's fairytales. You tell him about heroes who've done the impossible and kings whose hearts are as pure as the summer skies.

Something about you reverberates in his subconscious. Oh, how he wishes to engulf you, to pick apart your flesh revealing all those dainty secrets you keep in your pretty little chest.

He asks how you know of such utopic lands. You smile. "Because I once lived there"

One day, as Louis serves black tea with rose petals, you bring up a rather peculiar request. "Permit me to assist you in your quest for equality lord Moriarty." William's beginning to believe he's going mad when he hears you. Albit it may as well be expected. Any sane noble lady would have run away many times over. Yet you remain. Forever poised in your adorned seat. Now more than ever William wishes he knew what you truly are. "I want to help you", you plead. "Allow me to aid you in burning this world down and starting anew". He shouldn't have accepted, he shouldn't have nobbed. He shouldn't have left his seat to trace the side of your face with more love than he knew he possessed.

Sometimes, William wonders if something is haunting you, an apparition nesting within the depths of your heart. He ponders what could drive a brilliant mind such as yours to crave the blood of the rich. You once told him about a heritage disrespected. A legacy buried under sand and water lilies. He's yet to find the true meaning behind those words. Does that make you a threat or an ally? Can either be exalted to a lover?

Moriarty promises you the world. Promise you revenge. He's not sure if he too will burn away in your vendetta. Yet he's willing to take the risk if he can hold you close after every murder case.

"I've tried to kick the habit of strolling around the cemeteries at night. Yet I must admit I rather enjoy this." William smiles at your twisted words as he leads the way. If everything has goes as planned -which is most often the case- then the two of you should be prepared for quite the spectacle. A certain Count - who had shown more interest in you than Moriarty could permit- would be getting knifed by his butler whose life he had ruined. A whole new meaning to the term 'the butler did it'. Quite comedic from William's perspective.

You lean on a withering oak tree, hidden by London's thick fog. William stands by your side, the personification of a grim reaper. You watch the play begin, the cobblestone stage illuminated by the blood-red moon. The confrontation, the knife being thrust into the rich vermin's heart. Again and Again and Again. The butler screams into the bloodstained night. His words quelled by his sobs and screams of agony from his dying tormentor. You only catch half of his reasoning, half of his allegations. And yet that is more than enough to comprehend his motive. You sympathize with the poor man, one whose scars mirror your own.

William's scarlet gaze befalls you, as the performance nears its end.

You pick at your nails in a manner that William finds a little too adorable.

You are an anomaly masquerading as a human. Depression lays heavy over your bones as stardust gathers in the corners of your eyes.

You pray to the creator of the moon, pray for a place long since destroyed.

"I've yet to find someone who truly understands me," you say as the two of you begin the journey back to the Moriarty estate.

"Then we share the same burden, my lady," William says, stopping in his tracks.

He lays a firm hand on your shoulder pulling you backwards into his embrace. Somewhere in the distance, three crows consecrate you with their blessings. Willian's hands rest heavy on your sides. He holds you like a little boy holds his father's arithmatic books. Full of care, full of wonder. "What are you" he whispers into your ear. Leaving a playfully hard bite to the shell. His lips trace yours like one traces a treasure map. Trying to unearth all the riches of the world. "My anomaly" he mutters before he finally commits.

When Moriarty kisses you the whole world melts away.

There's an intriguing lightheadedness that follows. As if the stars themselves have exploded within you. You wonder if basking in his presence will mend your tattered heart.

"My precious little anomaly"

Tag list: @elvyshiarieko @himerurun @latolover @aru-nightmare