#william james moriarty x reader

[yandere-romanticaa]

For the headcanon, tell us a headcanon you have for william james moriarty from moriarty the patriot please!

Ever the estute man, William would be curious to see how your mind works.

And what better way to peek into your head than for him to see just what sort of literature you read?

Ideally, he would prefer it if you show him your books or any collection you may have in person. It would establish a deeper bond between you and it would show him that you are starting to trust him. That you realize that he is not here to hurt you, that he is here to be your friend.

A selfish part of him wishes for more, but those desires must be kept at bay. It doesn't matter how bitter that makes him feel, he has no choice.

So, he compensates.

If your trust has not been secured, William is not above breaking into your home and taking a little peek. He brushes over the covers with reverence, his mind etching every single name and author deep into his memory for safe keeping and smart use in the future.

How joyous he would be if you were a romantic. That would make things so much simpler for him. Not to mention more fun.

send me a character and I'll write a random headcanon for them!

[stellaeerrantes]

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

req by anon: hello since your requests are open for smut, may i request william and albert eating you out headcanons? (separately)

note: art creds goes to the artist. lmk if i need to put it down cause i can't find their name and dk if they'd like their work reposted like this. + might be ooc cause i haven't written anything mtp related in months, go easy on me

tags: overstim, edging, reader w/ afab genitals, fingering, dacryphilia

𖥔 ꒰ — 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘

nsfw under cut.

: ALBERT is a tease. especially in bed — he's just so mean about it, you know? he'll have your legs spread open for him for hours on end, feather touches and small, playful licks on your swollen, pulsating clit.

: he definitely loves setting the mood beforehand. he doesn't like instantly ravaging you — he wants it to be passionate and heated, but not to the point of seeming carnal.

: he'll laugh when your fingers frustratedly twist into his hair, pushing his head further in between your thighs because god, you need more friction, or when pleas or frustrated whines claw their way out of your throat.

: his hand placement, i think, would be holding onto the pudge of your thighs orrrrr they'd be on your chest, fondling them or on your nipples.

: albert's driving you mad, and he knows it. he enjoys it. he just loves edging you. how could he not? the pretty noises that roll off your tongue are otherworldly to him, and he's going to do everything to hear more of them.

: "what's wrong?" he taunts, voice husky. he tries to play it cool, tries to make it seem like he's the one steering the reins, but his composure is slipping every second. "i figured you were a lot more patient than this, (name)."

: albert will have you pleading before he actually does any real work. just watching you crumble at his ministrations, watching as your cunt drip in arousal, soaking the towel beneath you is an ego boost to him.

: definitely gets pussy-drunk, i don't make the rules 🤷‍♂️

: i i hesdcanon he's a messy eater when he eats pussy. trust.

: he spreads your folds apart, licking a stripe before diving in and eating you out like a man starved. he acts like he's so, so hungry for you, as if he's been waiting for ages just for this. your back arches everytime he flattens his tongue on your clit, licking upwards.

: albert will drive you up to the point of madness with him leading you up right at the edge—only for him to pull you right back down from the high you almost got. i don't think he's a mean dom, to be honest, i think he just really likes teasing you. perhaps a little too much sometimes.

: your cheeks flushed, brows furrowed and tears pooling at your eyes definitely does something to him. once he thinks he's had enough or been too harsh on you, he'll finally cave and give you whatever you want.

𖥔 ꒰ — WILLIAM JAMES MORIARTY

: WILLIAM, on the other hand, i think is on the softer side.

: performing oral or having sex in the first place isn't something william always does often. so whenever he does eat you out, i imagine the act to be soft, gentle and intimate.

: definitely loves servicing you/giving into your needs. he'll be on the edge of the bed, knees against the carpet, while your legs are spread out. the view you get from your perspective with him down there and between your legs with his hair messy and eyes hooded with lust is definitely a sight.

: his hand placement would either be interlinked with one of yours or caressing your sides up and down slowly.

: i do think he'd like to tease you once in a while, though. but not as much as his older brother. he definitely talks you through it, either giving you praise on how good you're doing, checking in every once in a while, some light remarks like "i haven't even done anything yet and you're already soaking" etc, to the point of making you blush.

: william is a man who adapts to things quickly. it's a given he'd be able to find all the spots that make you feel the most good. his tongue working away at your clit all the while his fingers pump in and out of you at your favoured pace...

: you'll definitely be orgasming in minutes.

: on some more passionate nights, he's most likely a fan of overstimulating you. watching you squirm, the noises that escape your throat are so pretty to him. he can't help it.

: you're in good hands, trust him and let yourself go. the night is still young, after all, and his hunger for you is yet not quenched. get ready to see stars.

© eliasorchard — do not plagiarize, retranslate or feed it to ai.

[kanroji-san]

This is most popular scene

But with Y/n

:) Happy New Year Everyone!!!

[stellaeerrantes]

Random headcanons part (I think) 3

So William always sleeps like "🧍‍♀️". He literally doesn't move at all. If you go to bed after him, you'll have to cuddle on his side. You can even lay on top of him, or throw a leg around him, he doesn't mind. But like bro's not changing position.

If you've already gotten into bed, and you're sleeping on your side, usually he spoons you from behind. He hugs you protectively and kisses the top of your head. When he's feeling more vulnerable and wants to be spooned, he'll sneak into your arms and tuck his head into your chest.

Now if you sleep on your back, he'll cling onto you like a coala, wrap both arms and legs around you. He actually enjoys it very much.

Also I feel like, even after years of marriage, he always sleeps fully clothed. What a gentleman. Though if you want to remove your nightwear because of the heat, or sensory issues or whatever, or even want to sleep butt naked he doesn't gaf. He's just as courteous and gentlemanly, holding you in his arms as if you're the most precious thing in the world (+ he brings you your robe first thing in the morning).

And no, he doesn't get 'distracted'. He's a fully grown man, he can very well control himself.

Generally he's very comfortable to sleep with, like a teddy bear. He's cuddly and loves this kind of non sexual intimacy.

[joanquill]

Hiding from a Stalker with Moriarty Brothers + Von Herder

Can I ask for a scenario fic where a Fem! Reader runs up to the Moriarty Brothers + Von herder pretending to be their girlfriend becuuse of a stalker

Albert, William, Louis James Moriarty, and Von Herder

Tag/s: Fem!Reader, Scenario

Albert James Moriarty

"Miss (L/N)!" Sir Acheron called out for you as you squeezed in through the crowd, hoping the number of people would help you hide.

"Excuse me... Miss (L/N), please wait!" the man kept calling out, his eyes locked on you as he made his way through the crowd.

'This is bad...!' you gulped as you quickly walked around, hoping to lose him as he followed you through the dance floor.

'Is he gone..?' you thought, turning your head around as you walked, bumping into someone.

"Sorry! I didn't see-!" you quickly apologized as you faced forward, seeing it was Albert James Moriarty, his suit now drenched in wine as the crowd gasped.

"Insolent girl!"

"Ugh, how improper..."

"How dare she...!"

"Are you all right, miss?" he asked, seeing your frantic state.

"Miss (L/N)!" Sir Acheron called as he reached you, making your blood freeze.

"A-Apologies, my lord…! Shall I help you with the stain?" your voice cracked as you took out your handkerchief, wiping the wine out with shaky hands as the crowd glared at you.

Albert raised a brow as he looked at Sir Acheron, connecting the dots.

"I believe helping me get a new set of clothes would be a better alternative?" Albert suggested, stopping your hand.

"Shall we?" he smiled, linking your arm with his as you walked out of the dance floor.

"O-Of course!" you agreed, sighing in relief as you followed along, hearing Sir Acheron scoff as he left the scene.

"I can see why you would bump into me despite me standing still," Albert whispered, making you nervously laugh.

"Right… Sorry again about the stain. I know quite the talented tailor in town, though!"

William James Moriarty

Your eyes darted around the street, hoping to see at least one shop still open for the night to hide.

You gulped as you saw the man's shadow growing on the ground, hearing his footsteps quickening and closing in on you.

Desperate, you quickly made your way to the department store, only to be stopped by the security guard.

"I'm sorry, miss. We're closing in a few minutes,"

"No, no… You don't understand." you grabbed his arm in fear, "Please, I just need somewhere to-"

"-Sorry, darling. Have you waited long?" a voice chimed in, making you and the guard turn your head to the sound.

It was a nobleman with blond hair and red eyes smiling at you both.

"W-What?"

"Sorry, I lost track of time," he apologetically laughed, walking up to you.

"Shall we get going?" he asked, looking over to his side.

Following, you saw the man stalking you stopped by a lamplight, making your blood curl.

"Y-Yes," you smiled, taking his arm, "Let's go…" you muttered, following the man as you kept your eyes on the stalker.

"There's a police station a couple of blocks from here," the nobleman whispered, making you widen your eyes.

He only looked at you with a wink.

"I'm sure we can convince the officers to help, along with a restraining order if needed."

"I see…" you sighed in relief, feeling your body relax for the first time that night.

"Thank you so much…" you muttered, feeling your eyes tear up in relief, "I thought I was a goner.."

"Here," the man gave you a handkerchief, which you happily took.

"Don't worry, that man won't hurt you now."

Louis James Moriarty

"There you were!" you beamed as you grabbed Louis' arm, catching him by surprise.

"(Y/N)? What are you-"

"Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you," you sighed as you hugged his arm, your whole body shaking as you hid your face.

Louis raised a brow as he looked around, seeing a man staring at you both in the dark.

'Oh...'  he thought and frowned, wrapping an arm around you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry," he smiled as he pulled you close, hiding you from the man's sight.

"For how long has he been following you?" he whispered, making you gulp.

"I just noticed him an hour ago..."

Louis frowned at the answer as he put his coat on you, catching you by surprise.

"You seemed cold," he explained, keeping you close as you left the department store.

"Did he do anything to you?"

"No, he was just following me the whole time," you answered, pulling his coat close to your body.

"Sorry... I know you wanted to buy a gift for William's birthday,"

"What are you apologizing for?" Louis sighed, keeping an eye on the stalker following you both, "That creep isn't your fault," he reasoned as he called for a carriage.

"Let's get you home for the time being," Louis whispered as he helped you up the carriage.

"What about you?" you asked as you grabbed his hand, "You might get hurt,"

Louis breathed out a smile as he removed your hold, "I'll be fine. You're the one he wants,"

"Then what are you gonna do?"

A dangerous glint lit up in Louis' eyes before he lifted his head and gave you a courteous smile.

"Just giving him a lesson he won't forget,"

Von Herder

"Honey!" you called out as you hugged Herder from behind, almost making you both fall over.

"Huh? What-" he muttered, feeling you hold him with trembling arms.

"Um... Miss? I think you got the wrong-"

"-Honestly... I thought you said we were meeting in the cafe?" you sighed with a shaky breath, still holding onto him.

Furrowing his brows, he gently hugged you back, feeling another presence behind you not too far away.

'I see...'  Herder sighed, noticing the growing hostile air closing in on you two.

"Sorry, sorry! It must have slipped my mind," Herder played along with a cheery voice, pulling you away from the presence and linking his arm with yours.

"Now then, what should we eat?" he asked as he led you away from the presence, hearing you sigh in relief.

"You can decide this time," you replied, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Sorry, miss. Are you all right?" Herder whispered, still feeling the presence following you.

"Yes, I'm okay... Thank you for playing along," you whispered back, your hands still shaking.

Herder frowned as he kept you close, thinking of a possible solution.

"Oh!" he beamed, stopping abruptly with a grin.

"Sorry, honey. Can we make a quick stop?" Herder asked as he pointed at a mechanics shop, making you raise a brow.

"I don't mind. But what for?" you asked as Herder smirked.

"You'll see," he answered vaguely as you both entered the shop.

"It will be quick, miss...?"

"(Y/N)," you smiled, "(Y/N) (L/N),"

"Miss (Y/N)," he finished as he rummaged around some parts.

"If you don't mind, I might have a solution on how to protect yourself,"

[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 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.

[ranposbabe]

(Ongoing) Masterlist

Delightful | William James Moriarty x Reader

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

To be continued…

[fairy-writes]

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

A BUSINESS PROPOSAL

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): William James Moriarty x Reader

Word Count: 3k

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

Notes: So this was super fun to write! 

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

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

PART TWO HERE

__________________________________________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least someone shared your sentiment. 

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

The letter was short. 

Dearest sister, 

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

With best regards, 

Mycroft Holmes

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

This was going to be fun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scowls, 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Taking away your funding? 

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

Much less one as young as yourself! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could they? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sherlock trusted him well enough… 

Perhaps…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?!” You demand, and he shrugs, 

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

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

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

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

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

“I accept your proposal.”

[cupidandcherubs]

Mentally, I'm there

Don't get used to me posting three days in a row tho

[ananiel]

Imagine being able to see spirits. You are able to see animals and humans walking (or floating) around, hearing how they talk and how they speak, talking about how they wish they could see their family or talking about how they want nothing more but justice

You are able to touch and pet, to speak and to interact with any of them, and when people touch your bare skin, they can see spirits too, which caused You to always wear gloves and long sleaves, as well as a mask

Now, the basic answear for this Power would be to become an oracle or some crazy witch of the Town. But what if You become a Detective. Yep, a young Detective that suddenly rised into the favour of the people for being able to solve cases that are a century old (mainly because the beheaded victim cries in Your bathroom at 3:36 am sharp every night)

So You live like this, in a happy way with your gift

Logical would be to keep your gift hidden too, so that people don't try to kill You for knowing to much

You met him on a random day, thinking nothing of him while a dog spirit was hiding behind your leg. He seemed friendly, and eager to befriend You as well, almost honored to be in your presence

Now spirits upon spirits whisper his name, talk about how deranged and how he was the one who killed them, or played part into their death. Spirits that got very fond of You would tell You to stay away from that man

You clearly followed their advice, and distanced yourself from him. But he isn't dumb, he caught up to it, and now, he tries to figure out what has gotten You to hate him so much

Surely... He has been studing You for ages, talking You day and night to figure out the best personality to just steal You away only for himself. What failed in his plan?

He asked himself, oh well, guess he'd have to take You in a more forcefull attempt

[eliasorchard]

William tying our hands / gagging us with his red tie 👁️👁️

highkey steamy sex, p in v, use of belt as constraints and tie as mouth gag, fingering, reader has afab body features.

UAGSHSHS it's been so long since i've written smut. i hope you enjoy. thank you for the request, anon :)

"sit down, (name)." william's back faces you, his hands busily twisting off the cap of a whisky bottle.

"don't order me around." you grit. "i am not your dog."

william's hand freezes, then he slowly turns around — resting against his office desk, and fingers curling round the edges. it's subtle, but his scarlet eyes are slightly narrowed.

he'd expected this anger from you. the remnants of your recent argument was still there, still present — simmering under your skin. and truthfully? it was the same for him.

"my darling," he says, the sarcasm imminent in his voice. "my dearest, my love.. will you please do me the honour of taking a seat? i wouldn't want to tire out your pretty legs."

a hesitant pause. "not in this way, anyway."

fuck, you hiss under your breath. that tone, so annoying. and what came after that was even more annoying.

you settle into the nearest chair, leaning back into it and crossing your legs. he approaches, offering you a glass. you glance at it. "i didn't come here for this. you know that."

"why are you here, then? i am exhausted from arguing."

"an apology."

william raises an eyebrow.

"give it to me." you state, and he scoffs — looking away.

moments linger in silence before he finally replies. "you're right." his expression softens, shoulders drooping as his eyes come to meet your own. he sets the glass of whiskey aside on the coffee table and slowly kneels, taking your hands in his. "i’m sorry. i understand now that my actions and words were wrong. the fault lies entirely with me, and i am truly, utterly sorry."

silence fills the room. you lean in. and kiss him. the world melts. against his trembling lips, you whisper: "forgiven."

william smiles against your mouth, feeling your hand on the back of his neck. you bring him in and kiss him. you kiss him hard. you kiss him again, then kiss him some more. and every time, he kisses you back, angling your lips together.

william's hands travel under you, holding you up. you wrap your legs around his waist. he takes you to his desk, sets you down. his head drops low to pepper kisses against your jaw. "open your mouth for me." he rasps, voice hoarse.

and you do. your lips part, letting your tongue meet with his. it's hot, you think. the room feels incredibly hot — or maybe it's just the kiss. maybe it's your bodies. they glide against each other and you can't help but let out a moan.

"too many clothes." you gasp, trembling hands trying to pop his shirt buttons. he lets out a shaky chuckle. "that's right. so let me, my love."

shirts are shed, and his hands rest over your ribcage, just below your chest, holding you close and steady. he dips his head, kissing the sweetest parts of your neck. but oh, he's taking his time — he's too slow, too soft.

you want him.

and you want him right now. a whine escapes you.

"liam—.." you whisper against the shell of his ear. he shivers.

"please, my dear." william pleads softly, pulling back slightly as he runs a hand through his blond hair. his brows are furrowed, breaths coming in unsteady gasps, with loose strands falling into his face. "be patient."

"no," you beg equally desperate. "right now.. please."

you can't help it — the growing arousal between your legs.

your fingernails dig into his back, rake into his skin, and a pained groan tears out of his throat — his expression twisting. he lets his head fall against your shoulder with a breathy sigh, nibbling on your exposed collarbone. and he holds apart your legs, grabbing fistfuls of your thigh pudge.

"(name)." his voice is raspy, dark, desperate — frustrated. he unbuckles his belt and with it, wraps it around your wrists, securing them with a firm but gentle grip.

and a legion of butterflies takes flight in your stomach as he tightens it. "no more, my dear." he skates his thumb along your cheekbone gently. "it hurts, you understand?"

your brows crease in frustration yourself. but you still nod.

"yes," you whisper sensually. "i do. and i'm sorry. i do."

"good." he presses a kiss to your forehead, pushes your panties to the side — and with the much present wetness, the penetration of two of his fingers is easy.

your jaw slackens, head tilting up while a moan of pleasure makes it past your lips. william takes the chance to turn his attention to your jaw and your neck in hot, frenzied kisses.

"god," you gasp as william continues with his ministrations, fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. "ah- shit. that feels so good." and your moans continue to get prettier, get even louder when he angles his fingers upwards — hitting that spongy, sweet spot over and over. his eyelashes flutter at the sounds you make, now he'd normally never muffle the lovely noises that escape your throat...

but the walls are thin, and he's sure his colleagues are in the other room working on something else entirely. he pulls his fingers out, and you let out a whimper of disappointment at the loss of the feeling of his fingers inside you.

that sentiment, however, shifts instantly when he lifts his red tie, holding it taut between his fingers. "bite down."

you blink in surprise, cheeks flushed. "what?" / "the tie, my love." william says, equally red. "clamp down on it."

hesitantly, you part your lips and bite down on it. his gaze is intense, and you can sense his approval when he smiles. the way you manage to look gorgeous, even as your mouth is stuffed with his red tie makes him chuckle. he leans in, whispering against your ear. "you're beautiful."

you gulp, feeling the tips of your ears turn bright red as william align his tip against you. he lets out a shuddering breath, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly, very gently bottoms out inside of you.

"hngh." william whimpers, gripping onto your waist. he's sure he's covered in the most vibrant shades of vermillions. you feel amazing around him. "you feel so good.. so warm."

a moment passes, letting the both of you get used to each other before william begins to move. "ah..! fuck," you gape, blinking furiously. the friction is lovely — the way he rolls his hips, the motion, the speed — nothing could be better.

william snaps his hips against yours, the loud stuttering of his skin against your's makes him realise how ineffective the gag in your mouth really is. "hah...! (name), my darling—" he pants, adjusting his position for better support, he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, angling your hips slightly sideways as he picks up on the pace — grip on your hips firm and pulling you closer as he meets your movements.

"mmph," you're seeing stars, and you don't know what you're pleading for exactly, but you know the previous tension between the two of you has completely dissipated.

something pools in your stomach, warm and tingly and you know you're close — so close. william picks up on that, too, and his thrusts further intensify.

you want to hold something, anything to ground yourself—but your hands are tied, the leather cool around your wrists.

"liam, liam, liam," his name comes out in muffled chants, almost incompressible with the tie stuffed in your mouth over and over. the knot within you snaps, and everything releases like a dam. your orgasm washes over you, blurring your vision with white, and triggering his own as he whimpers his own gasps of your name repeatedly.

"haa... haa..."

william collapses against you — his breath labored and huffing. the only thing that brings him back from ecstasy is the beating of your heart against his own, bodies still trembling lightly. "you... have a talent for driving me wild."

[kanroji-san]

Kidnapper: I have your partner!

William: What? But we don't have a partner

Kidnapper: Then who just called me a lowlife bitch and spit in my face?

Sherlock: *who is already running towards exist* Oh shit, they have Y/n!

[stellaeerrantes]

Hello everyone, there's something that I'd like to share with everyone here, because I believe it will help a lot of people.

For us folks who engage in imaginary worlds, with canon characters or our own creations, who have deep conversation with their faves in their heads or need their comfort character's shoulder to cry on, there is an unavoidable phenomenon which I took the liberty of naming "Character burnout".

"Character Burnout" essentially means that you have no energy in order to visualise your character(s) in your mind or engage with them on your imagination. I've come to the conclusion that it can be a result of an actual burnout (mental) or it can be irrelevant to mental state and your mind is overwhelmed. Simply put, it is the way your mind kindly asks you for a small break to charge its batteries. After all, picturing an entirely different reality needs a lot of energy.

Now, the reason I'm saying all this, is not for the sake of just mentioning it. I understand that a lot of us are extremely attached to our comfort characters/ f/o(s) or whatever you prefer calling them, myself included, and this situation can be very stressful. Personally, I panic, thinking that I've lost interest to my favourite characters or "grew out of it" to the point I become unable to function at all, but, after a small amount of time I can connect with them again.

So, when you experience this, please don't jump into conclusions or let fear overcome you, the connection will come back again as enjoyable as ever, you just need to be patient and give your mind the time it deserves to recharge in order to take you places again. It may take days, or weeks, but the love we have for our characters is never gone.

If anyone wants to talk about this, please do speak your mind, and I'm open if someone wants to discuss it with me as well.

So um that's it, and and sorry for the long post!

[theweepingangelofcas]

Eat The Rich, Feed Them to the Cats - Moriarty Bros x Reader

Anyone else in the USA having a crisis? Me too! Let's all maladaptive daydream together that our sweet dear Sherlock boys are with us, on our side.

Title is inspired by a fav nonprofit cat shelter of mine, Wonky Hearts Animal Haven. Please go check them out. They have stories that are truly so heartwarming and uplifting, it's a great distraction.

(No, I do not believe all men are bad. I myself have a male fiance whom I love and trust very much. But the election has left me feeling helpless and scared, as though my rights or my body don't matter. I'm writing this to vent. I respect if your political opinions are different than me, but I ask that you do not attack me in the comments, my dm's, etc)

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

William Moriarty

You two had been together for years now, since you two were teenagers. You've shared everything. Hopes, dreams, ideals... So when he saw someone try to harass you simply because of your gender? That won't do.

"Oi! Pretty broad!"

The random man's words did little to phase you. You didn't even speed up your footsteps. But your dear William stopped in his tracks.

Oh, yes, that's right. No one had ever been stupid enough to cat call you with him around before.

"Y/N..." his gaze had turned to the man, unblinking, "Did you not hear what that man just so crudely yelled at you?"

You shrugged, stopping in your tracks to try and let him catch up to you. He didn't dare move.

"It's nothing, William. Happens all the time to us ladies."

If you didn't know better, you'd say his eye just twitched.

"Is that so? And here I was, thinking it was mostly noblemen who were the rotten part of our society."

He smiled then. Like his mind wasn't 100% alongside you anymore.

His cane left the ground, being weilded in both hands almost like a baseball bat.

Or, more accurately, perhaps he was holding it like a mace.

It was safe to say, no man went within a few dozen meters of you for quite some time after that. After all, you always had your dear William with you now.

Louis Moriarty

Oh, did you think William would be protective?

Ha!

Louis is SO MUCH WORSE

To be completely fair, he was already practically a guard dog for both you and William. You had been engaged to him for a few months, and each passing day he just wanted to spend more time by your side.

This was how he found out how truly awful some men could be.

You two had boarded a train back to Durham, coming back from a lunch date together. You two had managed to score a semi-private spot in the lunch car, meaning that he could hold you without too much fuss from the rest of society. One hand was in yours, the other wrapped around your waist. You had both ordered drinks, his a sophisticated Earl Grey tea, yours a refreshing seltzer water. That was when your waiter came back up to you both.

"Sir, I know this is quite uncouth of me to say, but the gentleman a few seats down won't stop staring at your lady friend there." He gestured to you, specifically your chest, and you seemed to shrink into your seat instantly.

Louis scowled, "Thank you for informing me. You're dismissed, good sir."

The waiter stepped away, and Louis's grip on you got tighter.

"It's fine, darling. You mustn't fret." You tried to comfort him, but his scowl only deepened.

"I will fret." He turned his head, catching eyes with a man a few booths down. He did, indeed, seem to be staring at you. "And I'm going to teach him to respect others, or die trying."

You saw Louis stand, and approach the man in a terrifying calmness. He shook his hand, and gestured for him to follow him.

If you happened to see a person-shaped figure get thrown out of the train that day, no one has to know.

Albert Moriarty

He understands deep, seething rage. He dealt with it much when he was younger. So he understands that the best way to deal with it, is to take care of it yourself.

Normally, women weren't allowed into a prestigious college. But Albert, with his power and wealth, managed to convince the school that having one woman among its ranks wouldn't hurt. Hence, you being halfway through a science and medicine degree. Albert supported you all the way through. Your husband truly was a lovely, understanding man.

"It was fascinating, my love!" Your eyes lit up as you opened your textbook to that day's lesson, "We learned about the chambers of the heart, and all the illnesses and diseases that can correlate to it's health. Isn't that so cool!"

His smile widened at seeing you happy, "It certainly is, my dear. Do go on, teach me more about it."

You nodded, eyes bright, about to keep talking before-

"I'm sure anything is fascinating to a woman. But can she even understand it? Why, she should be at home, not trying to educate herself on something she could never possibly understand."

A man had approached you both. His smug grin was enough to dampen your joy immediately.

Albert blinked, his expression blank, before turning his head back to you, "My dear, would you like my walking stick, or do you want to use your textbook? After all, this fine gentleman seems in need of an anatomy lesson."

Your grin came back, "Your walking stick, please. I'd rather not get my favorite chapter dirty."

The man's eyes flew open as you took the wooden cane from Albert, weilding it more like a weapon than an aid.

"Now," The excitement in your expression was back, "I'll give you an anatomy lesson as I break all of your bones in alphabetical order."

[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.