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lowkeyrobin · 3 months ago

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Hi sorry if im annoying u but can u do a james hook x reader story . I kenda want the reder to be the dugther of peter pan and hook fell in love whit her.

no need to worry! you're totally fine haha ; but yeah of course I could! ; I decided to make the reader a kind of relative to Peter (sibling/cousin at least) cause age differences and whatnot, even though Peter stays a kid forever, I still didn't wanna do smthn weird lolll but dw I got you ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also I only write they/them / gn readers but I tried to keep readers gender identity pretty in the middle and stuff so

JAMES HOOK ; star crossed lovers

summary ; you and hook fall for each other, your love forbidden as he was a vk, and you were an ak

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; reader can fly & uses pixie dust like peter pan

word count ; 1.1k

masterlist

Hook's eyes land on you from afar, watching as you sprinkle pixie dust upon Bridget and Ella. They had been begging you to let them try out flying, and you'd finally given in halfway through today.

He peers past the concrete wall into the courtyard, watching you three fly about, or really, watch you try to help your friends learn how to fly how you do. You giggle, bouncing back as you practically swim in air, watching them struggle to control themselves. It wasn't as easy as it looked.

"Whoever can fly to class faster wins!" Bridget laughs, looking over at Ella.

"Oh, you're on!" She smiles, dashing toward the nearest doors as fast as she could, attempting to beat Bridget.

Bridget was definitely better at the flight thing, but Ella had speed. You'd have to check in with them later, considering your class was in the opposite direction.

Hook, seeing you were now alone, casually walks toward you, having popped out of nowhere as you watch Ella and Bridget soar past the windows and eventually disappear. He tilts his head as he looks up at you, trying to read you somehow, from behind. You turn around, jumping back in slight fear and surprise.

"Uhm, hello!-" You awkwardly smile, floating a above the ground, making yourself a foot taller than him. You recognize him, knowing he's a VK.

"What's with the eh-" He looks you up and down, "Floaty thing?"

You glance around and shrug. "I dunno. Just kinda... born like that"

He nods, posing no threat. "Cool"

You subtly raise an eyebrow. "You think?"

"Yeah," He chuckles. "Got any more of that fairy dust?" He asks, referring to the magical golden dust that enchanted its victims with flight.

"Pixie dust," you correct. "But, yeah. Why?"

"You do flying classes?" He asks, a soft expression on his face, one of curiosity, craving adventure.

Your cautious expression quickly fades to one of happiness, a smile curling the corners of your lips up. "For you, I guess"

He smiles, watching as you dig into your pocket and sprinkle him in the glittering gold powder. His feet slowly depart from the floor, his arms quickly reaching out to you in fear.

You jump back to avoid his hooked hand, but realized that this was more like teaching a kid how to ride a bike rather than he wanted to hurt you. You reach for his in-tact hand, pulling him closer to you, laughter escaping your lips as he front flips a few times.

"This isn't funny!"

"Yeah, it is!"

He clings onto you, not liking gravity not pulling him down to the ground.

"What're you so scared for?" You chuckle as you question him. "You a pussy?"

"No!" He quickly pushes away from you, needing to keep his tough guy VK coat on in front of you, reminding himself that you weren't one of his friends. "It's very hard to keep balance!" He exclaims as he falls backward to hang upside down. He flails his arms, returning right side up.

"What's your name?" You ask, stifling a laugh as you watch.

"Hook. James Hook"

"Cause the hook, I'm guessing?"

It'd been a few days since you'd last seen James Hook, your mind constantly trying to find an answer to why he wanted to try the pixie dust and why he spent nearly an hour hanging out with you to try and learn to fly. Maybe he was forming some sort of plan. Maybe you shouldn't speak to him again, maybe he was bad just like the other VKs. Maybe you should stop trusting everyone-

"Hey Y/n," James smiles, appearing from behind you, hand quickly jumping to your shoulder.

You jump, looking back at him as you sit under a tree in the front yard of Merlin's Academy.

"Hey, Hook" You answer, looking back down at your textbook.

He raises an eyebrow, looking down at your spell casting book. "You can call me James"

"Hey, James," you repeat, correcting yourself. "What's up?"

He shrugs. "I was going to ask you that"

He slides down the tree, sitting next to you. "I saw your little stunt earlier in the library." he smiles. "You're a trickster, hm?"

You lightly smile. "Yeah."

"Little sprinkle of that dust and watching people try to fly is amusing, isn't it?"

"Yeah, kinda. Especially when it's assholes" You reply, referring to his VK friends.

He chuckles. "It was funny, really. I like you, you have a sense of humor."

"Y'know," You speak, looking up at him. "My shadow is it's own being, it spies"

He raises an eyebrow. You glance back at the tree you rest your back upon, showing him your shadow standing above you, hands on their hips. He jumps for a moment, looking back at you.

"I don't lie, James" You shrug, watching as the shadow attempts to push you two together. You roll your eyes. "They want us to kiss"

James glances between you and the shadow, face growing red. "I mean, a lot of people call me James-"

"It's not about that." You sigh. "Little mischievous bitch thought you falling into my arms the other day was 'adorable'. You have a crush on me or something, apparently, according to them"

He blinks and shrugs. "I mean, they're not totally wrong." He smiles awkwardly wide, looking for validation. He breaks, disturbed by your silence. "I'd love to be friends with you, at least. You're very intriguing and humorous, and-"

You quickly cut him off. "What? We can't, we can't be friends. You're a VK"

His expression quickly falters as he realizes the predicament.

"But... I shouldn't deny that I feel the same way about you"

He blinks, confused and slightly caught off gaurd. "What are you getting at here?"

"We're star-crossed lovers." You speak dramatically. "We can't be together, yet there's something pulling us together. Even if it's just a silly little crush or infatuation"

He nods. "Can we at least be friends? I promise you, love, I'm not as evil as it seems."

Yeah, friends was an awful word to use when describing you and the infamous James Hook.

Someone call up Anne Marie...

Over the course of the next few months, you and Hook had become true star-crossed lovers like Romeo and Juliet, bound by love, separated by fate. The constellations aligned but the stars between you and James never did.

You wondered why you had to be separated by social norms, why you couldn't be with him because he was a villain. If James was a villain, then you were too for your pranks, there was nothing fair about it.

Even though you'd sucked yourself into a little world of your own, he was there by your side, loving your lips behind closed doors and confined spaces so you wouldn't be caught. God, no one would ever forget it if they found out. A VK and an AK together? The world might as well have ended.

You fly through the forest with James, his fingers tangled in yours as you swiftly pull him along.

"Y/n, slow down!"

"I'm not even going fast, you're going slow!"

#lowkeyrobin #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #james hook x reader #hook x reader #joshua colley x reader #descendants x gn reader #descendants x reader #descendants rise of red #rise of red x reader #katjahorvatseka

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softfem-dom · 21 days ago

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heyyy Ii love you and your writting and I was wondering if you could write something? it's kinda a different rq from what I saw you writing but would you be willing to write sepparate headcanons/a short blurb for different Logans? (esp the xmen 97', origins, worst wolverine, patch if u write for him and the dofp logan)

if youre comfortable with this rq style, could you write something for the different moment they/someone realized they were a girl dad™ with a platonic!teen!yn? if not that's okay dw <33

different wolverines, same cub different!logans x fem!teen!reader

a/n : okay this is diferent from the requests I usually get but it's a very welcome change in format! pd: i love you too anon <33

wc : aprox 500 words for drabble.

FLUFF , GIRLDAD!LOGAN(S) , TEEN!READER , MUTANT!READER , TW FOR PAST ABUSE MENTION IN ORIGINS LOGAN.

xmen97'!logan . origins!logan . dofp!logan . patch!logan . worst!logan

XMEN97'!LOGAN HOWLETT

Ever since Proffesor Charles' death things were a bit tense in the team. Scott, even as hard as he tried, wasn't all that ready to be a leader and with a baby in the way and Logan acting like a jerk to him anytime the opportunite arose, things weren't getting that better.

However, strangely, today the team wasn't that much of a team. It was more like the family you all were. And the way you were playing on the basket court was something to see. With two of the men without shirt, Jean as a ref, and Jubilee and you bursting with energy things were about to take an interesting turn. Especially when Gambit and Logan were placed into opposite teams.

You spent the majority of the time in the sidelines, talking about the latest gossip with Jubilee, while you cheered for Gambito —who seemed to be eating it all up. But then the orange ball bounced your way, and you grabbed it before thinking of the consequences. So now you were running for your life, trying to evade the opposite team's players —which was a difficult task given how good Beast seemed to be at this.

And just when you were about to reach the basket and score, you bumped into a solid wall of muscle. You groaned under your breath, already knowing who you had just bumped into, before you were suddenly being lifted into the air. The ball fell to the ground for Morph to grab.

"an' what do we have 'ere, hmn?" Logan laughed, his voice gruff and deep as he looked at you with a smug ass smirk on his lips. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes playfully and making you scoff, before deciding to throw you up into the air and catch you.

"LOGAN!"

"what? too much action for ya, princess?"

Jean could only watch from the sidelines, a hand resting over her round belly. Rogue caught onto that, her eyes having been trained on your laughing form as Logan kept throwing you into the air and catching you —like a father with his baby. "seems like Scott ain't the only father around, huh, sugah?"

Jean chuckled softly, a fond glint on her eyes as she stared at the scene playing before her. "it does seems like it, it does" she sighed with a smile on her face.

___

ORIGINS!LOGAN HOWLETT

Since the moment James entered his homely cabin, finding it oddly silent, and walked right onto his girlfriend —Kayla— trying to convince a blood and dirt covered teenage girl into eating he knew he was in for a wild ride. His girlfriend had always been alright with the fact a mutant was living with her, and now it seemed like that number had leveled up to two.

They still hadn't been able to get much out of you, just the fact that you were an experimented mutant that had escaped and was probably being searched for. Still, his sweetheart of a partner didn't seem to mind the risk —just like she didn't mind his adamantium claws.

He was sitting on the couch, the fireplace lit up and casting a gentle warm glow over his face. However, his hazel eyes weren't looking at the hypnotizing flames, but at you. You were way more healthier than when Kayla had found you lost and scared out in the woods near the cabin, less sickly-looking. You were simply minding your bussiness, seated on the floor —on the warm and fluffy carpet— as you read one of the books that Kayla had kept from her early teenagehood.

"what're you reading, kid?" his voice was calm, soft, and with a bit of the usual rumbly tone it held. You looked up from the pages to the man sitting on the couch. "the princess bride" you spoke quietly.

You didn't speak all that much, short sentences and direct meaning behind them. But Logan still found himself humming along to your simple answer. "that one's good,"

"yeah"

"you met iñigo yet, bub?"

"uh-huh"

He found himself sporting a small smile at your responses, you weren't a troublesome kid you just had trouble opening up. But it was fine, he had all the time in the world to coax you out.

"you know what Kay' used ta' say 'bout him?" he asked you, his voice soft. Hoping to keep the conversation going for a while.

Your curious tilt of the head and the way you lowered the book slightly —subcounsciously— was enough answer.

"she used ta' say I was like tha man" he hummed, looking at you with a smile. His girlfriend did use to say that he reminded her of the spanish henchman.

A beat of silence. A wrinkle in your brow and your nose scrunched up. "you're way better" was your quiet response before you went back to reading.

He would never deny the way those words made the rest of his day, and his week, and his month. He didn't even know it yet, but when the day came that all of him but blurred parts was lost, he'd still remember a girl telling him he was way better than the swordman.

___

DOFP!LOGAN HOWLETT

Yes, he had traveled back in time to save the future from the centinels. And yes, he was on it. But while Charles and Hank tried their best to track Magneto to get him to collaborate, he decided it would harm no one to have a bit of fun with this version of you.

He knew you in the future, and you were the dictionary description of a real woman. You knew your abilities, had self-confidence, and had that damn smile that could challenge the sun. But, right now, in the past, you were nothing but a feisty 15 year old that he was having the time of his life bothering.

He walked through the empty halls of the lived-in School with that confidence and 'no-one-can-sweep-me-off-my-feet' attitude he carried everywhere, his tinted aviator glasses resting idly on the bridge of his nose. He was in search of you, and he knew exactly where to find you.

He opened the door to your room with his usual carelessness, not even bothering to knock just for the sake of annoying you, and laughing —loudly— at the way you almost jumped out of your skin.

"Logan! fucking god-!" you screeched from your place on your bed, hand grabbing at your chest. "you almost gave me a fuckin' heart attack, you asshole!"

"yeah, yeah, whatever you say, bub" he laughed, shaking his head in amusement. Before his eyes fell on the pink —glittery— notebook open wide infront of your crossed legs. "ohhh, and what is that?"

He smirked at the way you scrambled to close the thing, pink gel pen falling to the covers without a sound, as you clutched the notebook to your chest. The words written on the cover exposed you. A diary.

"nothing!"

"is that a fuckin' diary, bub?" he snorted, walking over to the bed with an amused smirk on your face.

"no it is not!"

"yes it is"

"no"

"yes"

"nah"

"yeah"

"nuh-huh" you shook your head. "yeah-uh" he replied, noding his head with a smirk on his face.

You two stood in a silent stare competition for a few seconds, but he had reflexes way better than yours and much more strenght aswell. And he ended up snatching the pink notebook from your gasp. "HEY!"

You were quick to scramble up to stand over your bed, trying to pry the glittery item from his hands as he kept dodging your hands with mocking ease while he opened it on the last page. The page you had been writting about him. When you saw his eyes start to read the words written in girly pink you sighed, a red hue creeping onto your face and growing more and more intense with each second that passed before he looked up at you again. His smirk had turned even more cocky and smug if that was even possible.

You groaned loudly before dropping back onto the bed, pulling a pillow over your face. "you think that 'bout me, bub?" you groaned in embarassment as an answer, getting a deep chuckle in return. "yeah, well, I appreciate you too, ya little feisty thing"

Your embarassment eased up a little, knowing athat at least he was not going to ridiculize you over the way you had written about him and the way you wanted to be like him when you were older —the way you held him over a gold pedestal. AS a role model.

"but, let me tell ya a thing real quick" he added. You heard the sound of him closing the diary and placing it safely on your desk. Then the bed dipped slightly. "when ya grow old, don't be like good ol' me, be like you. That's how I met ya in the future, remember?"

Just when you were about to pull the pillow off your face, and thank him, he went back to his jerk behaviour and decided to playfully suffocate you for one or two seconds. "I'm still gonna make fun of ya, though" he added. You could hear the smirk on his lips as you groaned a loud "fuck".

___

PATCH!LOGAN HOWLETT

You had gotten admited to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters when you were a kid, finding a family closer than the one bound by blood. If someone, anyone, had told you that you'd be going on missions with the X-Men when you grew a pair you wouldn't have believed them.

But right now, you realized that maybe you did aspire to be someone in the hero world. Especially when it's the Wolverine —the X-Men— the one taking you with him on his side quests.

It wasn't beacuse you had some kind of insane, min-blowing mutation that made you invincible, nah, not really. The thing was that your mutation allowed you to locate mutants and perceive their powers and level, and that did damn come in handy when it came to tracking down the targets of his missions.

And that's how you had endedp up staying in a hotel room with Logan in Madripoor. The city of crime and casinos.

You were currently all dolled up, pretty as ever by his side, with a fancy white dress with black buttons that matched his white shirt and his black eyepatch. 'Patch' is how they knew him here, one eye hidden beneath black cloth and his characteristic cowlicks slicked back. He was hidding his identity quite well.

You two were at one of the fancy casinos on the highlife streets, 'lady luck' they called it, and Logan was hoping he had enough of said luck to catch the target that frequented the place before midnight —you had a damn bedtime he was always going to stick to.

Seated at a poker table with some greedy men surrounding him, Logan had you seated prettyly on one of his legs. Holding his deck of cards with one hand while the other was firmly planted on your hip, so no dirty rich man got any 'brilliant' ideas.

Your young eyes were moving from place to place, admiring the fancy decorations in rich reds and golds. Looking at the pictures of famous people that had visited the place hanging from the walls, the gorgeous chandeliers and oogling the pretty dresses the women there wore. Logan thought it was cute how shy you got when one of those women caught your gaze and smiled your way, waving sweetly, but what wasn't cute was the way you were getting distracted. And not because of the mission at hand, but because he saw the lascivous glances sent your way —those perverted men made a low growl start to rumble in his chest.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart. Can't have you gettin' distracted here" he explained in a low tone, not even taking his eyes off of his deck —intending on at least winning the game if the target didn't show up in the end—.

"that's some serious arm candy you've got there, Patch" one of the men in the table spoke up, pushing a few more red coins on the table to to add up to his bet.

Logan growled, his hand suddenly tightening up on his hip, squeezing you to his side. "with all respect, I'm not a sex toy, mister" you huffed, frowning in disgust at the man.

Said man quirked an eyebrow at your 'attitude' before looking back at Logan, as if epecting him to scold or chastise you for speaking up. Still, he was only met by a grumble of Logan and a shoulder shrug.

"you heard the girl, she ain't no sex toy" he hummed, adding another few gambling coins to the pile in the middle of the table. "so stop tryin' to fuck her with yer eyes or I'm leaving you without 'em"

The man fell silent after that, probably a bit intimidated, while you just sat there kepon his leg and kept your eyes on his deck. You knew that if you were obedient and let him concentrate on winning this game he'd let you order as many sweets as you wanted from the hotel service. And you were really looking forward to those chocolate cookies.

___

WORST!LOGAN HOWLETT

You thought that the worst scent of all was the scent of blood. A sickeningly cloying and metallic smell that whafted into your nostrils and forced your mouth to taste of iron, so strong it was dizzying more often than not. But, lately, you've started to repulse the scent of whiskey much more.

You hated the way that alcoholic brevage clung to him. To every cell of his very being. To his breath, his skin, his clothes, everything smelled like whiskey. It wasn't a particularly unpleasant smell, but just like blood it was the thought of what came behind it, was it corpses and death or drunkeness and slurred speeches.

You both had managed to crash in an old appartment that used to belong to Cyclops before, well, his death. Except you weren't allowed to call it that, as long as you were in Logan's presence you had to talk about it —think about it— as 'the accident'. Who could've guessed he'd end up drunk out of his mind on Jean and Scott's old queen-sized bed.

He doesn't know how long he's been laying on that bed, drunk off his ass, he just knows he's sober and awake now —and without a hangover thanks to his metal bones. It's half past 4 in the morning, and he just sits there for a moment as he tries to make out what has woken him up. He waits for a few seconds before he hears the creacking of the wooden floor of the appartment coming from the kichen.

You. He doesn't know why he jolts out of bed, almost loosing his balance and falling face-first to the floor. You two are in an appartment in the city centre, you two are safe, but just the thought of you awake at half past four in the morning has something in him stirring and clawing at his insides.

"bub?" his voice is rougher than usual due to sleep, raw with the disorientaame with waking up so abruptly. "bub, s'that you?"

He blindly reachs for the doorknob to the small kitchen, pulling the door open to reveal you there. In the middle of the kitchen. Still in your pyjamas and looking as sleepy as he did and with a mug in your hands. He looks to the side slightly, spotting the bottle of milk on the counter and the opened door of the microwave. Oh, so that was what had woekn him up, the beeping of the stupid microwave.

You stood there, like a deer in highlights, with your mug of warm milk in your hands. You weren't about to admit to him that you were still childish enough to believe a warm glass of milk would send you to bed after a nightmare.

"what-?" he started, rubbing a hand over his face. "what're you doing? it's fucking 4:30 a.m, bub" he groaned tiredly—pretty much using the doorknob as support for his sleepy body.

"I-" you breathed out, voice groggy with interrumpted sleep. "-wanted a glass of milk" you mumbled, cringing at how childish you sounded.

His gaze seemed to both soften up and clear up at your words, and he found himself walking past the fog of sleep that his worn out brain was still trapped in, to join your side and close the microwave's door gently.

"nightmare?"

"yeah.."

"you want a hug or something?" he suggested, not really knowing what to do.

"yeah.."

And with that, one big arm was drapped over your shoulders —a bit awkwardly but still— while you sipped on your warm milk. His free hand reaching up for the liquor cabinet, yet stopping when he caught the way you looked at him. He sighed at that, redirecting his hand's trayectory to the cabinet next to where the alcohol was kept, and grabbing a bag of instant coffee.

Yes, you hated the smell of blood. And yes, you hated the smell of whiskey even more. But you could get used to the smell of cold winter nights shared over a glass of warm milk and a cup of coffee.

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moriartyluver · 1 year ago

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Hello🙋 it's me yet again. How's it going?

Are you still taking requests? If you aren't, please ignore this.

If you are, could I please request a William x Reader oneshot? I got inspired by that poker chapter (I hate Johnson).

So, one night, William, Albert, Moran and Bond decide to play poker, and the winner will be recieving a kiss from William's wife (they somehow persuaded her to do it💀). So, William pulls some intelligent shit (I'm stupid, ok?) and obviously wins. Bonus, he asked reader to sit in his lap for good luck🤭.

I really hope this is not confusing and thank you very much! ❤️🥰

A/N: I’m still taking requests dw 😭 this request got me giggling and blushing omg 🤭 I’d sell my soul to get to sit on liams lap 🛐 (I hate Johnson too)

Character(s): William James Moriarty x fem! Reader

Format: oneshot

Genre: fluff + spicy

Prompt: above^^

Warnings: established relationship (marriage), reader is female, gambling??, a little bit spicy. Way too short 😞

“POKER?”

“That’s right, darling. We’d invite you to join but..” William trailed off as you scanned the table. Fred and Louis were observing while Bond, your husband, Moran and Albert were all sat around a table, the poker set out.

“But what?” You asked, feeing slightly left out. “Because I’m a woman?” You were half joking but everyone knew that playing games like cards or poker were not very ladylike.

Bond shook his head “You’re the prize, (nickname). The prize can’t be playing because then what shall you get if you win? It’d make more sense for you to watch instead.”

You raised a brow in confusion. You? The prize? What on earth was that supposed to mean?

“When you say it like that, it makes you sound perverted.” Moran commented from beside Bond, a subtle smirk on his face.

You look over to William as if demanding an explanation. He smiled sheepishly, it wasn’t him who had declared the bet and he’d much rather not have you on the line.

“What Bond meant to say was that the winner is supposed to get a kiss from, you, (name).” Albert explained with a smug look and a sip of wine as usual, watching his little brother furrow his eyebrows in slight irritation from beside him. “Nothing too extreme, just a little peck on the cheek.”

Clearly he had some of not all the responsibility of creating the prize. Albert wasn’t as much of a mastermind as William was, but God, he had the tendency to meddle and scheme in other peoples lives whenever it could provide entertainment.

You looked at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t agree to this! You can go bet on something else,” then you paused “Nevermind that, as the lady of the house, I’d much rather not have any gambling take place within the estate, or anywhere for that matter. Haven’t you learned anything after that run in with Mr Johnson?”

“Oh don’t be like that, (name), it’s just for fun.” Moran laughed, although there was a slightly guilty tone in his voice, like a child caught misbehaving “Besides, we all know Louis acts more like the lady of the house much more than you do.”

Louis glared at the colonel then rolled his eyes while you held back a snort from his reaction.

You sighed begrudgingly “If you insist..but if I do, then the loser has to do all of my chores for the next month.”

“Two weeks.” Louis negotiated with a stern look.

“Deal.”

Fred was about to pull a stool out for you to sit on but was stopped by William calling out to you. He had his evil (yet attractive) little mischievous smile on so you knew he was planning no good. Chances were, he was probably going to win if Moran didn’t cheat as usual but with a kiss from you up for grabs, he had become even more competitive and determined to win. Both because he adored any scrap of affection he could receive from you, and because he dreaded the idea of you kissing anyone but him, even if it was strictly platonic.

“Come sit here, my dear,” He said, patting his thigh. The corners of his lips were turned upwards “I need my lucky charm to help me win your affections.”

“Do I have to?” You groaned, clearly flustered by the idea.

“Please?” He pleaded, looking at you with a teasing yet innocent expression. You gave in, walking over to him and sitting on his lap while your husband wrapped his arm around your waist, securing you in place. You look at him as if to say ‘you’re lucky I love you.’

“L-Let the game commence.” You said, hoping not to draw attention to your flushed expression as you played off your stutter

“Damn.”

“Oooh, unlucky Bond,” Albert chuckled as James frowned at his loss.

It was finally William’s turn as he was sat beside Bond and the turns went clockwise.

“Your turn, dear.” You said, hand on his shoulder. You could see a smirk forming on his face. One that he would usually wear whenever he would bring corrupt nobles to justice or read of Sherlock’s work in the paper or whenever you would tease him. A smirk he would proudly wear with satisfaction.

You peer over to look at his cards, eyes widening momentarily. You look back at your lover’s face as his eyes land on you. William gives you a wink, ever so smug from what is seconds away from being a win. You had been observing him the entire game, and yet he still managed to get his way as usual.

His hand clutched his cards, ready to spread them over the table while his other hand caressed your waist, thumb massaging the soft flesh over your clothes.

Everyone had been waiting in anticipation, silently observing your reaction aswell as William’s. It was a general presumption that he would win though, partially due to his intellect, partially due to his possessive nature.

“Royal flush.” William stated nonchalantly as he spread his cards on the wooden table.

Moran tossed his cards to the ground in anger, clearly because he had the potential to win if William wasn’t so damn lucky (not for the sake of being kissed, just for the fact he was once again so close to beating William but just not close enough) James has his hand cupped in his cheek, glad Moran didn’t win whilst Albert could care less, he just wanted another glass of red wine.

William could only smile, hoping not to appear boastful despite how badly he wanted to brag, not because he won, but because you were going to kiss him. Although it seemed you had forgotten that now because of how proud you were that he won.

“It seems I’m much deserving of a prize now,” William whispered to you, pulling you closer to him “Don’t you agree my love? I did play so well just for you.”

You pause, recalling the original deal. You hesitantly nod, still annoyed that you were the prize because if you weren’t, you probably would have won anyways.

“Fine.” You groan, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

Except you don’t.

The cheeky bastard turned his head at just the right moment, possibly intentionally, for your lips to land on his. Wolf whistles echo through out the room along with a “get a room” from Moran who recovered from his loss.

You pull away gently, tapping William I’m a faux scolding manner before sticking your tongue out at Moran, about to hurl some insults before William kisses you once more.

#—a’s anons 💄#moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #mtp william #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #—a’s asks 💌

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