#yuumori x reader

[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]

Spillage

pairing: Albert James Moriarty x Fem!Reader

summary: Albert’s favourite wine is spilled and now he has to clean it up :(

warnings: smut, erotic content, unprotected sex!!!

The hour was late and Albert was still yet to return to your shared bedroom.

Everyone in the Moriarty manor decided to celebrate a recent victory taking down a nobleman that had been troublesome for quite some time.

However you couldn’t find it in yourself to join the celebration as you remained tired throughout the day and had returned to your room rather early. William did the same to correct some students test and Herder…

well he’s Herder, putting something together you assumed.

When it comes to celebrations of course there is all sorts of alcohol.

Of course it was Moran who didn’t hesitate to start the drinking early.

How could Albert refuse ?

You found yourself laying just in your undergarments along with one of Alberts white dress shirts that practically engulfed you. The buttons all open exposing your body underneath as the room had a tendency to become quiet warm with the heavy sheets even with the window slightly opened. A book.

Of course the calmness couldn’t last long.

The door practically swung open as the head of the manor walked in causing you to practically throw your book away in such sudden fright.

“Are you tipsy, Albert ?” You sigh, watching his every move as he walked in confident yet a slight trip to his step. His blazer out of sight he always looked fine in his suits.

Tightly gripped in his hand was a new bottle of his favourite wine half empty of course.

“Of course not, y/n.” He smirks. A familiar glow in his emerald eyes. He runs his hand through his typically combed back hair and a few loose strands fall over his forehead making him appear messy and desirable.

“Come to bed, beloved.” You pat the spot beside as if you were trying to convince a child that it was bedtime.

“You’re more so the lord of wine rather than lord of crime.” You roll your eyes, rubbing your hand up and down his back in a comforting manner.

“What’s this ?” He simply asks.

His eyes practically glowed at the sight of you his darling Wearing nothing but your undergarments along with one of his dress shirts. Overcome with tiredness you failed to even button the shirt, your stomach on view. Just like how he liked it.

“I didn’t think you’d notice.” You simply state.

“I’d be a fool not to notice.”

For a small intimate moment he presses his lips against yours before going back to taking a swig from the bottle.

Such a gentleman.

“”We’ll I’m sorry my lips don’t taste like wine, Albert !” You scoff at the sight an amused glow in his emerald eyes.

With a smirk on his wet lips Albert turns towards you and in an instant cages you in one arm

Suddenly Albert tips the expensive bottle and the warm red liquid splashed your belly and rolls down your side, staining the silk sheets.

“Albert !” You jump, your attempts to sit up fail as his arm keeps you still. He towers over you, quite the intimidating sight.

“Louis helped me change these sheets just this morning !”

His tongue pressed flat against your stomach licking up whatever was left of the wine like a starved man.

You gasp at the feeling of Albert licking the scarlet liquid from your belly and suddenly that familiar tingle starts riling up inside of you.

“Albert-

“I’ve missed this.” He whispers to himself.

It was only then did you realise he wasn’t as drunk as you originally thought he was.

He always had that certain smirk on his lips.

His tounge invades your mouth, wine spilling and running down your chin

“It seems you need cleaning kissing down from your lips to your neck.

“I don’t recall having wine splashed on my neck ?” You groan, Albert’s wet lips pressing against under your jaw all the while his fingers effortlessly grasp at your underwear. He playfully slaps at your hips silently telling you to raise them. You comply shimmying slightly while whines escape past your lips due to the lack of contact. But as soon as Albert removed your clothing he was quick to return the warmth of his touch.

He licks a long stripe of your cunt taking his time like he would sipping his wine.

His emerald eyes roll to the back of his head as you grind your cunt against his scarlet stained tongue. His brown locks feel so soft as they slip through your fingers as you grip at Albert hair holding him in place as he satisfys himself by enjoying his meal.

You learned quite early on to never interrupt Albert while he was in pure bliss.

But the cravings that rise inside of you make you suddenly wanting more. You practically have to pull Albert off of you to gain back his attention.

He always had his priorities straight.

“I’m here, my love. I’ll have your legs shaking in no time.”

You don’t hesitate in helping Albert remove his clothing while typically you would admire Albert in his nicely fitted suit, in this moment of time you’d rather see it be removed…more often.

The lamp by your bedside leaves the room in an orange glow makes Albert’s skin glow as his dress shirt is finally remover. A wave of greediness washes over you as you run you hand up and down his glistening body from his nice shoulders till just above his suit pants.

It doesn’t take long before his pants are removed and you’re suddenly too shy to look despite knowing not only the captivating appearance of his aching cock but also the sensation that it caused inside of you.

“I’m taking you now, y/n.” He assures, his hand massaging your waist. His eyes flickered down to the sight of your wet cunt, eagerly wanting to dive into his desert. You’ve both enjoyed the pleasure of love making to eacherother for a long time and yet on every occasion you’re both suddenly filled with giddiness and relaxation which come from the complete trust you both hold deeply for one another.

“Then take me, Albert.” You smile, no longer being able to hold back.

You’re connected not only physically but emotionally too. The pleasure not only feels good but Albert’s smile as he stares deeply into your eyes make you more than content.

He takes you just as good as he always has. Albert practically does all the work and yet with the pace of his thrusts you understand that he prefers it this way.

You don’t mind. The only sounds evident in the dimly lit room was your gasps of pleasure and Albert’s groans that sounded like music to your ears. Though the sound was of skin slapping was becoming much more louder.

“Don’t be shy now. You know how to use that voice of yours.”

If they hadn’t already, your ears had blushed red at his constant teasing. Yet really you couldn’t get enough of it despite how embarrassed you may of seemed.

His thrusts were deep as one of his hands rested by your hand holding himself up as his other was stained with scarlet, groping your left breast, clear determination evident on his soft yet toned features.

He soon presses soft little kisses between your breasts. He always shows the same affection with both of your breasts. You had to laugh at how considerate Albert was towards them. Your highs come when Albert leans up and presses a considerably slow kiss against your lips, purposely avoiding tongue making you wanting more. He couldn’t whether your lips were bruised or simply stained by the wine. Either way he liked the sight.

His eyes glow with not only lust but also with admiration as he brushes strands of hair away from your forehead, his touch being so gentle compared to his thrusts.

He doesn’t pull out he remains inside of you. He doesn’t hesitate to move on with the constant kissing onto your neck.

Albert was practically addicted to the sight of your newly bruised neck being mixed with the staining shade of red wine.

“I think the celebration is over.” You breathlessly sigh, running your hand through his dark hair.

“On the contrary.” He doesn’t hesitate to continue his attack on your neck.

“I think it’s just starting.”

[cupidandcherubs]

[fancyfeathers]

lol I saw the pregnancy headcanons and immediate thought of all those victorian and regency movies where the labor process is bad and the doctors asking the husband who to save, the child or the wife. It's always fun to see period drama yans realize that their darling could just die due to their greed

Oh my gosh, the darling would be absolutely terrified and so would almost every single yandere, like not going to lie I could picture this happening with Albert and his darling when she had the twins because that would have been a high risk pregnancy at the time and I can just imagine the pure panic all around the house when it was happening. Besides Albert, I imagine Louis would be busy trying to keep the other children in the house distracted, especially Andrei because he does not to know that there is a possibility of him not having a mother tomorrow. Then Albert is holding his darling’s hand when the doctor asks him that question and it looks like he saw death himself and honestly it takes him a few minutes to recover from that question and when the doctor asks him again he nearly looses it, terrified to loose any of them.

“My Lord, you need to-“

“Save them both!”

“My Lord-”

“Save them both, do what you have to but neither my wife or child will die here.”

The doctor probably thought Albert was in hysterics due to the shock but when seeing the look on Albert’s face, dead emotionless and staring into the soul of the doctor. Honestly the doctor probably thought Albert was out of his mind requesting something like that, most would save the child because they were the heir but Albert already had his eldest, Albert was just terrified of loosing them…

Eventually morning did come and the house was at peace again, and when little Andrei peaked into his parents room he saw his mother asleep with one of the two little girls asleep in her arms with her mother and the other being cradled by her father who was running patterns on her skin with the covert tip of his fingers. Albert definitely notices his sun in the doorway and gestures for him to come here with his head.

“Meet you two little sisters, I am holding Hyacinth and your mother is holding Marguerite.”

“…May I hold her?”

“Not just yet, let everyone sleep a little while longer.”

[moriartyluver]

Rare aesthetic: William just stood there🧍

[gh0st-author]

lover of mine

pairing: William James Moriarty x reader

tags: angst, hurt/comfort but very bittersweet

summary: when i take a look at my life and all of my crimes, you're the only thing that i think i got right

warnings: mentions of death, lots of sad thoughts

A/N: ha ha .. guess who's back ... jk jk i've been away for a little while and i dipped in true fanfic author fashion BUT HEY im back now. and i was craving a bit of pain so here is a lil something angsty. its more of a character study than anything... also could you tell that ive been listening to lover of mine lmao

The serene silence of the night was interrupted by a strangled gasp, a broken intake of air momentarily cutting through the calm as a figure arose suddenly from their sleeping position, clutching their chest. Scarlet eyes flashed open, disoriented, hauntingly glancing around the room, the man trying to gather his bearings. He felt as if the walls were caving in around him, although the logical part of his brain was aware that those notions were only in his head. But lately, there was little difference between nightmares and consciousness to William.

And that was all that this was— a nightmare. A horrible fragment of his imagination seeping into his dreams and haunting his waking hours. Usually, the myriad of thoughts and emotions was kept tightly at bay in the furthest reaches of his mind, but at night when his defenses were lowered and his being slumbered, they seeped through and poisoned his dreams, his consciousness becoming a prison, caging him in. Faces flashed before his eyes, his own bloody hands, the weight of his own deeds and sins— oftentimes he felt less like a man and more like a whirling swarm of guilt, despair, and nihilty.

He directed his gaze at the ceiling, eyes tracing the veiny cracks weaving over it like spider webs, as his mind churned with thoughts. His soul was screaming out, but no sound seeped out. Power comes in response to a need, not desire. He felt no desire for bloodshed he dished out, found no enjoyment in it, yet he continued to drag himself further into hell, each step heavy as stone but unwavering, preserving what little hope was left at the cost of damning his soul. That was something he needed to do. He even abhorred violence, deeming it an absolute evil. Violence for violence was the rule of beasts, yet most days he felt as if it was the only language he knew how to speak. Maybe before long, he will become just like them, a violent animal of claws and teeth that did not know why it bit, crossing the blurry line of this dark gray area he roamed in and passing the point of no return. 

A minuscule movement and soft rustling of the sheets at his side drew his attention away from his musings. He gazed down at the figure sleeping next to him peacefully, face serene and bathed in moonlight. Shadows splayed over her skin making her look even more ethereal, hair draped over the silky pillowcase forming a halo around her head. An angel— or perhaps divine punishment for his sins. 

She was a being pure and unsullied by the darkness of the world; the darkness in him. Sometimes, he was almost afraid to touch her, in fear of tainting her pristine radiance with his stained hands. The mere fact that a person so far fallen like him was able to bask in the warmth she provided was as cruel as it was bitter-sweet. 

She was an existence that he shouldn't have been able to approach, and the reality of that seemed too harsh and unkind in actuality, yet he often found himself wondering if that was really true, though.

Reaching out to brush away a stray lock of hair from her forehead, he once again contemplated that thought. Maybe fate wasn't evil or cruel for sending him this brilliant shard of light. Perhaps it was actually merciful, providing him with a single taste of heaven— something he thought he had no hope of ever reaching. Maybe it was kind enough to gift him with this momentary reprieve. 

Her brows furrowed in her sleep as his ministrations disturbed her slumber. He slowly drew his hand back as her eyes opened, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in his. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

She shook her head and inched ever so closer to him. "Why are you not asleep? You have to teach early tomorrow." Her worried gaze ran over his face. "Did something happen?"

"No, nothing." His throat was tight, each word rasping out almost painfully. "I am just... pondering."

She hummed lowly, considering him, then rose to sit next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Hmm, a bad nightmare?" 

He sighed deeply, bone-weary, resting his cheek against her temple. "Don't concern yourself with it. I promise I am fine."

She let out another hum, and he knew what she was attempting, yet he was too weak to refuse her. She gently cradled his hands in her lap from where they'd been clutching the sheets and started tracing little patterns with her thumbs over them. "Tell me about it"

A small wry tilting of his lips, too fleeting to be called a smile, accompanied her actions. Exactly as he predicted. She knew precisely what to do to get him to talk. And that was no fault of hers, for he always acquiesced and yielded to her wants. "When I put my life into perspective, and all of my sins and crimes I committed, you are the one singular decision in it that I think I made right."

Her hands paused their movements and her gaze flew to his face, confused and slightly vexed. "What do you mean?"

Her face was so sincere, so unwaveringly loving, that he was barely able to endure the depth of her gaze. Yet he was unable to tear his eyes away from hers as the words spilled from his trembling lips. "My only right choice was meeting you, despite all of my wrongdoings. But your place is not with me, in the shadows. You should be out under the sun, never touched by our darkness."

Her brows furrowed once again, this time more severely, and he observed her face becoming even more confused and irked. "William you are talking nonsense." She clutched his hands tighter. "I chose you, William. Promised to be by your side through the good and the bad. No one else. You"

Another piece of his soul bloomed and withered away with her words, leaving its rot embedded deep in his chest. He slowly rose one hand from her grip to rest it gently on her cheek. "How I wish I could've loved you under different circumstances."

"Stop that!" she protested, shock subsiding, replaced with indignation. "You fight for equality. You are noble. You are not evi—"

"There is nothing noble about what I do." The look he gave her was cold and mournful, closed off. Any semblance of warmth leeched out of it. "Taking someone's life— even for a greater cause— is never justice." Dropping his hand from her face, he inched away from her, pulling away as the thick walls he usually built to keep these thoughts away crumbled in her presence. As he confessed to her the depths of his despair. "I never told you this before, but I plan to die." He didn't know if saying these words was a weight off his chest, or the last nail in his proverbial coffin. "I plan to atone with my death, to disappear as the last blight on society. To end the great evil that the masses depict me to be."

"Don't you dare!" Her words were a shocked gasp. And suddenly she understood— he saw it in her eyes that she did. She saw his guilt. Guilt, and grief, and resentment, and loathing. An inescapable torment weighing him down, trapping him, crushing him under the immense pressure of his deeds. A bottomless pit pulling him into its depths of despair. She understood why he condemned wrongdoings so harshly, why he mourned the loss of life. There was probably no one who valued human life more than him, yet was forced to extinguish it to save the majority. And he saw her terror. He saw her grief, her anguish, her heartbreak. 

With a sob, she threw herself in his embrace. She was shaking, trembling in his arms, and his chest caved in knowing he was the cause of her pain. Her plea was a broken whisper. "Don't you dare, William. Not like... that. Never like that. Remember our deal: Where you go, I go. If you die, I'll follow, since there is no me without you."

His mouth opened to protest, to refute her argument, to undoubtedly say something akin to her life holding more value than his, but she halted him with a firm grip on his shoulders. "Promise me!"

Her eyes were boring into his, and once again he found himself rendered speechless and unable to resist her. "I promise I won't." The falsehood tasted like ash on his tongue, and not for the first time he wanted to cut the lying appendage off. What good did it serve him if it only knew treachery and deceit? If it would only bring her more pain.

Her trembling hands wound around his figure as she hugged him tightly once again. "You are everything to me, William. I don't know what I would do without you. Please... Please never say something like that again."

A shuddering breath left his lips and he leaned completely into her, resting his head in the crook of her neck, feeling incredibly worn out and frail. "How do you not condemn me?"

Her hands slowly made their way up to brush through his hair, so achingly gentle. He couldn't remember when the last time that he'd been touched so lovingly was. Couldn't remember if he'd ever been before meeting her. "I love you, William, the broken parts and everything. Stained hands or not. I have always vowed to stay by your side. No matter how much our souls are tainted, we will spend the rest of our lives atoning for it— together. After all, is it better to just be born good or to achieve goodness through your own effort?"

She leaned back to smile at him, then brushed a soft kiss against his lips, still trembling from the onslaught of his raging inferno inside him. "Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone. Use the pain as a motive to continue forward. You will heal and you'll rise above it all."

Oh, she was so cruel, unintentionally so. Her sincerity was like bitter wine down his throat or a poison slowly making its way through his bloodstream. The simple fact that she truly believed there was any chance of redemption for him hurt more than death by a thousand papercuts. "I was correct." His hand lightly traced her cheek once again. Every word was a wound slowly bleeding out, draining his strength with it. "I really do not deserve you."

She shook her head, somber once again. "Stop saying that. I can't think of a man more worthy of my love and redemption." 

Darkness without light was an abyss. Light without darkness was blinding. You could not have a coin with only one side. Maybe they were like that. She was his perfect antithesis, his other side. The one that would grab and pull him out of the bottomless abyss of living hell, and he was the one that would ground her and shield her from flying too close to the sun. She would provide warmth to thaw away his frost, and he would keep her fire from burning out too fast. He only hoped he would be around long enough for her to not need him anymore. He hoped she wouldn't be too furious with him after he'd perished. What was another broken promise added to his ever-growing list of sins?

Because he couldn't stay with her in the light. She was still so incredibly radiant, not as far gone as he was. He knew that only the dead have seen the end of war. And that has always been his plan from the beginning. For how could he, a sinner as vile as the ones he was ridding the world of so diligently, be allowed to live in this new pristine world he was trying to create? How could she still see something good in him when he was the biggest evil that had to be eradicated? His fate has been set in stone since the first day he took Albert's hand, maybe even before that, yet with every new day he found his resolve on that matter wavering more and more. With each kiss from her; with every touch; with every love-filled glance— she made his icy determination crumble under her warm light. He was nothing but a coward wearing the face of a revolutionary, desperately clinging to life— to her— when he knew he couldn't. But for her, he almost thought it was worth it to live.

Sometimes he felt as if he could feel time moving, slipping through his fingers, and that dreaded moment of judgment creeping up closer and closer behind him, breathing down his neck. A walking dead man— that's what he was. The person currently cradling her, whispering sweet lies and false promises, was just his shell, a ticking time bomb or a lit candle only waiting for its fuse to burn out. That is precisely why he said nothing more as she urged him to go back to sleep once again. Said nothing as she draped the covers over them. Said nothing as the stifling silence threatened to pull him under once again. 

He would not be sleeping tonight, although she did not need to know that.

[rosesrflo]

Hi dear! I saw that one of the annons requested Sebastian, Sherlock, William and Louis how would they react to seeing y/n in a lingerie. So, I wanted to request how would Albert react seeing y/n wearing a lingerie 👀

(๑`✪̤◡✪̤)◞ღԵհɑղƘՏღ

Feats; Albert James Moriarty x f!reader (MTP). Genre; NSFW

Prompt; ❛❛Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view.❞ Warnings; a bit handsy but not smut

Desc; IN WHICH Albert takes you out to spoil you with gifts, one of them being lingerie; what was once a harmless shopping spree will eventually turn into something more..heated.

A/N; Hi! I’m sorry this took ages to write up, I’ve been caught up in a lot of work and stuff recently, writing sexual themes isn’t my forte either (I actually struggle with it a lot) but I hope you enjoy! 💌

As we all know, Albert is 99.9% sugar daddy.

He will spoil the shii out of you if you’re someone he holds dear.

Luckily for you, you’re one of them, aside his brothers of course:

But you’re special, if you ask him to buy one outfit, he’ll buy the entire store - you liked that specific meal? He brought the restaurant. He’s just that rich and that dedicated to you.

He would do anything you asked of him.

You hypnotized him with your personality, your habits and gorgeous looks. Every sultry smirk, fluttering eyes and teasing touches gets him riled up real fast.

In addition to this, he also loves to dress you up.

Albert will take you to the best of tailors, he’d spend hours upon hours watching you twirl and pose in pretty outfits specifically made for his eyes and his eyes only.

Your skin on display, the clothing only a decoration, an accompaniment to the real beauty. You, your body. He’ll place you on a figurative pedestal once he catches a glimpse of you in lingerie.

God who? All Albert knows now is (y/n) (l/n).

It was actually originally his idea for you to wear it, he just wasn’t prepared enough to face your gorgeousness, is literally blown away.

You’re a goddess in his eyes, but watch out - he’s been eyeing you for a while now and I bet he’s ready to take a taste of you…

“Albert! Please don’t be so rude to the tailors, they’re the ones fitting our outfits, you know?” You lightly scolded your lover for shooing the tailor out after quote on quote ‘eyeing you for too long.’ In other words, he had threatened to fire the tailor whilst pulling your lingerie clad body close to his.

Your words seemed to go into one ear and pass out the other, he didn’t so much as blink. Emerald hues flickered up and down your figure, his mouth was parted slightly and his hands seemed to tighten on your hips. It took a while until you realised the exact position you were in, and how hungry Albert looked.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you swatted away his excuses, “No excuses mister-“

“(y/n).”

He spoke your name like you were a celestial being, honey slithered into his tone, successfully masking his silver tongue. “-Apologise this instance, the poor man looked petrified-“

“(y/n).”

Albert clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in amusement, you continued to disregard him, “-He probably has a family, if he loses his job, he won’t be able to-“ The brunette pursed his lips, softly yet firmly forced you to look him in the eye - using his thumb and index finger, hooking under your chin and raising it.

“(y/n).”

The rant weakened, eventually trailing off the longer you gazed into his vixen guise, “..Yes.?” And just like that, your five senses heightened painfully; you couldn’t see past Albert’s handsome features, you were so close to him you could smell a whiff of expensive cologne, his voice rang smoothly in your ears and you grew aware of his hands roaming your body.

As for taste, well you’d have hoped you would get a bite soon enough.

“You look…entrancing in that outfit.” True to his word, Albert was absolutely captivated.

You giggled at his faltering voice, lifting your head to press a slow kiss on his neck, “You’re not all that bad yourself, sir.” Albert quietly groaned upon hearing your suggestive tone, cornering you against the nearest wall of the changing room. He slid a knee just below your groin.

His mouth found yours, catching you in a heated make out session, the pads of his fingertips pressed on your waist-

“Uh-C-Count Moriarty..? Are you finished in there yet?”

The tailor called out the two of you, breaking you apart along with the sensual mood. Crouching under his arm and making your great escape, you began putting a more mature outfit on - Albert yelled back a frustrated confirmation.

You almost burst out laughing at his face, “Let’s finish this off at home, shall we?”

[yyutsuu]

hi! your imagine was amazing, thank you so much for answering. i hope you don’t mind but may i request a mycroft x reader again but with some angst, where they have a really bad argument? they can break up or reconcile - it’s up to you!

Argument -Mycroft Holmes x GN Reader-

———

!! Angst with comfort !!

Gender Neutral reader

!! TW !! : Argument and smoking/nicotine mentions

Romantic relationship

———

Word count: 1098 words

A/n: (I have returned !!) I chose to have a happy ending, I hope you’re fine with that ! I also have no idea what the argument should be about, so I did not specify it, I hope you also do not mind that

This is serving as such a good distraction from the suffocating air in this plane 😭😭

———

It was a rainy day, both on the inside and out. You are laying on a relaxing and comfortable bed, the one that you and Mycroft shared. Usually, the two of you would be resting together, but last night was contradictive. Mycroft did not return home, he had most likely been staying in his office for the night.

You knew clearly what was the cause of this, during the night before yesterday, the two of you had an argument, not pleasant at all. “I despise you.” His words hurt like a excruciating stab wound, engraved onto your brain, haunting you.

The curtains were not open, but a faint luminescence emits still from them. The silence filling the air is harmonized by the rain, softly tapping at your window. At first, the tapping was simply background music, but now it seemed to become louder and louder, driving you to the brink of insanity as you hid under the warm blanket.

You decide to finally let go of the comforting embrace of your blanket which is as soft as a feather. You begin to sit up against the chilly bed frame. Your eyes are slightly swollen from the tears of last night mixed with the fact how you did not get the recommended amount of sleep, no, way less than that.

You simply sit there, blankly staring down the thin strips of light that had succeeded in escaped the cover of the gloomy curtains. You slowly and painfully recall the recent events, fatigue weighing down on you as you do.

It was presumptively one of the worst fights you’ve ever had with Mycroft, not psychical, but equally painful. You sat on your soft bed, rethinking the whole conversation over and over again, recalling every single tiny detail as if it only happened seconds ago.

By the time you realized you should perhaps head out for a breather, hours had passed since you sat up, the rain had died down. Getting out of bed was not difficult, you were wide awake ages ago. The very moment you step out from your blanket, the icy cold air bites at your skin.

After getting dressed and brushing your teeth you head straight outside, forgetting about breakfast entirely. It wasn’t too early in the morning, you stuff your house keys into your pocket, the sound of steady footsteps arising from your shoes. The air was particularly nice, cool and fresh, just what you needed.

The grass was damp, water droplets still resting on the emerald leaves that sprout from the earthy dirt. Every wave of sound was automatically blocked out by your ears, granting you the calmness you had wished for. The frown painted on your face, at long last, disappeared.

It was late in the evening when you finally returned home. During your stroll you had purchased some delectable food at a befitting bakery and had a cup of warm coffee.

You approach the front door to your and Mycroft’s shared house. By the amount of times you saw the door, you could tell when someone entered after you left. After you left the door, it had been unlocked from the outside and then locked from the inside. You stood there, slowly extending a hand to unlock the door, puzzled at who could and would enter.

It appeared you forgot about him, you had forgotten about Mycroft for a good couple of hours. “Mycroft…” You mutter, your memory finally refreshes as you unconsciously say his name. Your hand movements stop entirely, freezing up on the spot.

Your heart races, you don’t quite know what to do, open the door or stay out for longer? You knew deep down, the argument did not result into hate for Mycroft, you had said some pretty hurtful things too, but you just didn’t know at all what to do to fix the relationship.

You take a deep breath and place the keys into the keyhole, turning them as your ear takes in the sound of a familiar click. With your shaking hands, you turn the door handle and push the door open.

You look around and observe the room, Mycroft was most certainly present in the area, his once shiny shoes sitting near the front door accompanied with the difference in placement of a chair at the dining table proved that. After taking off your shoes and carefully placing them next to the door you walk around.

He was not in any room, not sitting on any furniture, you had searched most rooms. It was until you plopped yourself down on the couch you felt a small breeze graze your skin, it was coming from the sliding glass doors to the balcony along with a faint smell of nicotine.

You approach the balcony doors, brushing the silky curtains to the side, revealing the sight of Mycroft standing on the balcony. His back was turned to you but you could spot the smoke forming from each drag of the cigarette he made. It is without a doubt, you were not happy at all with Mycroft’s actions, he had promised he would avoid smoking a while ago, keeping his promise until now.

You slide open the glass door, Mycroft immediately puts out the cigarette on an ashtray and turns around to face you, as if nothing occurred at all a second ago. As he turns to face you, you can observe and notice that his lips are quite dry, the cigarette he had clearly wasn’t his first in a while. In addition to that there are very visible eye bags, he wasn’t getting enough sleep.

The moment the two of your eyes met, tears spill from Mycroft’s eyes, he had evidently been holding it in for quite a while. He walks towards you and holds you in a tight embrace. “Please, just allow me to do this for a while,” Mycroft whispers. You are caught off guard by this.

After some time you both head inside and make some tea. Eventually, the two of you talk about the matter and came to an agreement. Mycroft had also promised he would try his best to avoid turning to nicotine no matter what happens.

The following night was better than every other one you experienced, the two of you holding each other in an embrace while sleeping peacefully under the familiar warm blanket. The aftertaste of the argument entirely washed away. The both of you finally being able to receive sleep, the rain had begun again, but this time it was in forms of soft and calming taps on the window.

———

-yyutsuu on Tumblr and Wattpad-

!! Please refrain from reposting my work without permission !!

[izaanagi]

Alright so, I have an idea for an office/working romance, with an age gap for a female reader. Any suggestions on the meal lead?

[moonartemisia]

Hey hey! Just wanted to know if ur upcoming moriarty the patriot works will all be “x oc” instead of “x reader”? I’m really excited for the William one bc he’s my new obsession

Oh, a reader would do because of the general audience! I will always consider readers to be inclusive. Ocs will also do the trick, but I want my readers to depict their imaginations inside a story I will try to create

[kunikame]

ㅡ william james moriarty

in another life. ☆

[married-to-google-translater]

So if this don't bother you, you would write about William and Sherlock with a y/n as smart as them but incredible lazy

You don't bother me <3

Sherlock Holmes

You really intrigued Sherlock.

You two met each other at some fancy party.

Sherlock recognized your intelligence right away, but not you as a person.

He would think that with those intellectual gifts you would have recognition.

However, Sherlock was wrong.

Probably the first time in years.

Sherlock would spend almost all of his time with you.

You would talk about a lot of things and have a good time.

When Sherlock got back home he would start investigating you more.

Watson might think you're some level of criminal...

Sherlock was so passionate about his research.

The first meeting will definitely not be the only one.

Eventually, friendship would lead to dating.

Good luck with Sherlock, you're going to need it.

You two would have intelligent conversations every now and then.

Sherlock might try to bribe you to help him with his detective work.

The success rate of this would be variable lol

William James Moriarty

William met you on the first day at the flower shop.

At first he was just going to get some seeds for Fred's garden.

However, things had not gone as he had planned.

You two would get into a really interesting conversation.

William noticed right away that you are smarter than you look.

However, this could cause problems for him.

At first this was William's explanation for observing you.

However, soon you two would start dating.

William would probably never directly reveal his plans to you.

He would quietly ask you about it.

If you show the same spirit, William could reveal his plans at some point.

This would also provide an interesting challenge.

William would try his best to be as unsuspicious as possible.

Every day he would be grateful for your laziness.

One Sherlock is a solid opposition, but two Sherlocks would really be too much.

[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…

[cupidandcherubs]

Mentally, I'm there

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

[moriartyluver]

Okay but imagine being Liam’s wife and he forgets his lunch so you take it to him at the university, and his students (who have seen how soft Liam gets when he talks about his wife) are gushing over you and asking you a bunch of questions about their professor, how the two of you got into a relationship and all that

Meanwhile he’s just flustered and blushing in the corner

AND THAN AFTER YOU LEAVE THEY START TALKING TO HIM ABOUT HOW NICE AND PRETTY YOU ARE

🎀.

A/N: IM CRYING BC I WROTE A ONESHOT FOR THIS BUT IT DIDN SAVE 😭 ANYWAYS I REWROTE IT BASICALLY THE SAME SO TAKE THIS. YOU HAVE BEEN FED ONCE AGAIN, MY DEAR LIAM SIMPS

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

Format: oneshots

Genre: fluff

Prompt: ^^

Warnings: uhhh implied nsfw at the end ig? Reader is a noblewoman, reader is female, reader is William’s wife/ established relationship. NOT PROOFREAD kinda short too 😞

A knock came from the other side of the door to the lecture hall. Classes had already started so you were hoping and praying that this was the right room, as you would’ve felt so embarrassed otherwise.

A familiar voice calls out to you, causing you to smile.

“Come in.”

You slowly open the door, trying not draw too much attention to yourself, which fails terribly the moment you’re visibly in the classroom.

You play with the cloth wrapped around the lunchbox in your hand, which your husband, who was now teaching his class some complex equation, had forgotten that morning in a rush to get to work. (“Five more minutes” he said as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck when you told him to wake up. Those five minutes became half an hour and yet your tired husband didn’t even regret it)

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, Professor-“ you apologise as your husband’s face shifts into a soft smile.

“It’s alright, darling,” he said softly but discreetly as he approached your figure by the door. He took the lunchbox in your hands and gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek right before you walked back to the door, ready to leave as the handle squeaked.

“Oh look! It’s the professor’s wife..!” One student called out to you

As you began to turn to leave, another one of William's students spoke up. "Excuse me, Mrs. Moriarty," he said, waving his arm about as you failed to notice the growing blush on your husband’s face"but we've all been curious about our professor's personal life. Would you mind answering a few questions?"

You hesitated for a moment before nodding your head. The students leaned forward in their seats, eager to hear you talk about the usually strict professor.

They asked about how you met, how long you'd been married, and what it was like being married to the mathematics professor. They all seemed fascinated by William's usually strict demeanour turning soft whenever he mentioned you in the past and now they were faced with you, they understood why.

William was sat in the corner of the room, clearly flustered by the attention, which was rather amusing even if you didn’t admit it aloud. He kept his head down, hiding his pink cheeks whilst you answered his students happily.

As you finished answering the questions and prepared to leave, the students all thanked you for your time. The moment the door shut, William lifted his head to continue the lesson, coughing slightly to regain his composure. The young men in the room talked of how beautiful and kind you were to them, while the professor desperately tried to change the subject.

Not that he didn’t agree, of course, because he certainly did, but because he knew if the topic of conversation had stayed on his lovely wife, he wouldn’t be able to resist singing your praises or getting incredibly flustered and lovesick as he thought of you.

When he arrived home after work, he showed this great affection in the best possible way (iykwim🤭😏), secretly hoping you’d come by his classroom more often.

[bunnybelleisamess]

This is so beautifully written. I want to eat it. 😍

lover of mine

pairing: William James Moriarty x reader

tags: angst, hurt/comfort but very bittersweet

summary: when i take a look at my life and all of my crimes, you're the only thing that i think i got right

warnings: mentions of death, lots of sad thoughts

A/N: ha ha .. guess who's back ... jk jk i've been away for a little while and i dipped in true fanfic author fashion BUT HEY im back now. and i was craving a bit of pain so here is a lil something angsty. its more of a character study than anything... also could you tell that ive been listening to lover of mine lmao

The serene silence of the night was interrupted by a strangled gasp, a broken intake of air momentarily cutting through the calm as a figure arose suddenly from their sleeping position, clutching their chest. Scarlet eyes flashed open, disoriented, hauntingly glancing around the room, the man trying to gather his bearings. He felt as if the walls were caving in around him, although the logical part of his brain was aware that those notions were only in his head. But lately, there was little difference between nightmares and consciousness to William.

And that was all that this was— a nightmare. A horrible fragment of his imagination seeping into his dreams and haunting his waking hours. Usually, the myriad of thoughts and emotions was kept tightly at bay in the furthest reaches of his mind, but at night when his defenses were lowered and his being slumbered, they seeped through and poisoned his dreams, his consciousness becoming a prison, caging him in. Faces flashed before his eyes, his own bloody hands, the weight of his own deeds and sins— oftentimes he felt less like a man and more like a whirling swarm of guilt, despair, and nihilty.

He directed his gaze at the ceiling, eyes tracing the veiny cracks weaving over it like spider webs, as his mind churned with thoughts. His soul was screaming out, but no sound seeped out. Power comes in response to a need, not desire. He felt no desire for bloodshed he dished out, found no enjoyment in it, yet he continued to drag himself further into hell, each step heavy as stone but unwavering, preserving what little hope was left at the cost of damning his soul. That was something he needed to do. He even abhorred violence, deeming it an absolute evil. Violence for violence was the rule of beasts, yet most days he felt as if it was the only language he knew how to speak. Maybe before long, he will become just like them, a violent animal of claws and teeth that did not know why it bit, crossing the blurry line of this dark gray area he roamed in and passing the point of no return. 

A minuscule movement and soft rustling of the sheets at his side drew his attention away from his musings. He gazed down at the figure sleeping next to him peacefully, face serene and bathed in moonlight. Shadows splayed over her skin making her look even more ethereal, hair draped over the silky pillowcase forming a halo around her head. An angel— or perhaps divine punishment for his sins. 

She was a being pure and unsullied by the darkness of the world; the darkness in him. Sometimes, he was almost afraid to touch her, in fear of tainting her pristine radiance with his stained hands. The mere fact that a person so far fallen like him was able to bask in the warmth she provided was as cruel as it was bitter-sweet. 

She was an existence that he shouldn't have been able to approach, and the reality of that seemed too harsh and unkind in actuality, yet he often found himself wondering if that was really true, though.

Reaching out to brush away a stray lock of hair from her forehead, he once again contemplated that thought. Maybe fate wasn't evil or cruel for sending him this brilliant shard of light. Perhaps it was actually merciful, providing him with a single taste of heaven— something he thought he had no hope of ever reaching. Maybe it was kind enough to gift him with this momentary reprieve. 

Her brows furrowed in her sleep as his ministrations disturbed her slumber. He slowly drew his hand back as her eyes opened, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in his. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

She shook her head and inched ever so closer to him. "Why are you not asleep? You have to teach early tomorrow." Her worried gaze ran over his face. "Did something happen?"

"No, nothing." His throat was tight, each word rasping out almost painfully. "I am just... pondering."

She hummed lowly, considering him, then rose to sit next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Hmm, a bad nightmare?" 

He sighed deeply, bone-weary, resting his cheek against her temple. "Don't concern yourself with it. I promise I am fine."

She let out another hum, and he knew what she was attempting, yet he was too weak to refuse her. She gently cradled his hands in her lap from where they'd been clutching the sheets and started tracing little patterns with her thumbs over them. "Tell me about it"

A small wry tilting of his lips, too fleeting to be called a smile, accompanied her actions. Exactly as he predicted. She knew precisely what to do to get him to talk. And that was no fault of hers, for he always acquiesced and yielded to her wants. "When I put my life into perspective, and all of my sins and crimes I committed, you are the one singular decision in it that I think I made right."

Her hands paused their movements and her gaze flew to his face, confused and slightly vexed. "What do you mean?"

Her face was so sincere, so unwaveringly loving, that he was barely able to endure the depth of her gaze. Yet he was unable to tear his eyes away from hers as the words spilled from his trembling lips. "My only right choice was meeting you, despite all of my wrongdoings. But your place is not with me, in the shadows. You should be out under the sun, never touched by our darkness."

Her brows furrowed once again, this time more severely, and he observed her face becoming even more confused and irked. "William you are talking nonsense." She clutched his hands tighter. "I chose you, William. Promised to be by your side through the good and the bad. No one else. You"

Another piece of his soul bloomed and withered away with her words, leaving its rot embedded deep in his chest. He slowly rose one hand from her grip to rest it gently on her cheek. "How I wish I could've loved you under different circumstances."

"Stop that!" she protested, shock subsiding, replaced with indignation. "You fight for equality. You are noble. You are not evi—"

"There is nothing noble about what I do." The look he gave her was cold and mournful, closed off. Any semblance of warmth leeched out of it. "Taking someone's life— even for a greater cause— is never justice." Dropping his hand from her face, he inched away from her, pulling away as the thick walls he usually built to keep these thoughts away crumbled in her presence. As he confessed to her the depths of his despair. "I never told you this before, but I plan to die." He didn't know if saying these words was a weight off his chest, or the last nail in his proverbial coffin. "I plan to atone with my death, to disappear as the last blight on society. To end the great evil that the masses depict me to be."

"Don't you dare!" Her words were a shocked gasp. And suddenly she understood— he saw it in her eyes that she did. She saw his guilt. Guilt, and grief, and resentment, and loathing. An inescapable torment weighing him down, trapping him, crushing him under the immense pressure of his deeds. A bottomless pit pulling him into its depths of despair. She understood why he condemned wrongdoings so harshly, why he mourned the loss of life. There was probably no one who valued human life more than him, yet was forced to extinguish it to save the majority. And he saw her terror. He saw her grief, her anguish, her heartbreak. 

With a sob, she threw herself in his embrace. She was shaking, trembling in his arms, and his chest caved in knowing he was the cause of her pain. Her plea was a broken whisper. "Don't you dare, William. Not like... that. Never like that. Remember our deal: Where you go, I go. If you die, I'll follow, since there is no me without you."

His mouth opened to protest, to refute her argument, to undoubtedly say something akin to her life holding more value than his, but she halted him with a firm grip on his shoulders. "Promise me!"

Her eyes were boring into his, and once again he found himself rendered speechless and unable to resist her. "I promise I won't." The falsehood tasted like ash on his tongue, and not for the first time he wanted to cut the lying appendage off. What good did it serve him if it only knew treachery and deceit? If it would only bring her more pain.

Her trembling hands wound around his figure as she hugged him tightly once again. "You are everything to me, William. I don't know what I would do without you. Please... Please never say something like that again."

A shuddering breath left his lips and he leaned completely into her, resting his head in the crook of her neck, feeling incredibly worn out and frail. "How do you not condemn me?"

Her hands slowly made their way up to brush through his hair, so achingly gentle. He couldn't remember when the last time that he'd been touched so lovingly was. Couldn't remember if he'd ever been before meeting her. "I love you, William, the broken parts and everything. Stained hands or not. I have always vowed to stay by your side. No matter how much our souls are tainted, we will spend the rest of our lives atoning for it— together. After all, is it better to just be born good or to achieve goodness through your own effort?"

She leaned back to smile at him, then brushed a soft kiss against his lips, still trembling from the onslaught of his raging inferno inside him. "Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone. Use the pain as a motive to continue forward. You will heal and you'll rise above it all."

Oh, she was so cruel, unintentionally so. Her sincerity was like bitter wine down his throat or a poison slowly making its way through his bloodstream. The simple fact that she truly believed there was any chance of redemption for him hurt more than death by a thousand papercuts. "I was correct." His hand lightly traced her cheek once again. Every word was a wound slowly bleeding out, draining his strength with it. "I really do not deserve you."

She shook her head, somber once again. "Stop saying that. I can't think of a man more worthy of my love and redemption." 

Darkness without light was an abyss. Light without darkness was blinding. You could not have a coin with only one side. Maybe they were like that. She was his perfect antithesis, his other side. The one that would grab and pull him out of the bottomless abyss of living hell, and he was the one that would ground her and shield her from flying too close to the sun. She would provide warmth to thaw away his frost, and he would keep her fire from burning out too fast. He only hoped he would be around long enough for her to not need him anymore. He hoped she wouldn't be too furious with him after he'd perished. What was another broken promise added to his ever-growing list of sins?

Because he couldn't stay with her in the light. She was still so incredibly radiant, not as far gone as he was. He knew that only the dead have seen the end of war. And that has always been his plan from the beginning. For how could he, a sinner as vile as the ones he was ridding the world of so diligently, be allowed to live in this new pristine world he was trying to create? How could she still see something good in him when he was the biggest evil that had to be eradicated? His fate has been set in stone since the first day he took Albert's hand, maybe even before that, yet with every new day he found his resolve on that matter wavering more and more. With each kiss from her; with every touch; with every love-filled glance— she made his icy determination crumble under her warm light. He was nothing but a coward wearing the face of a revolutionary, desperately clinging to life— to her— when he knew he couldn't. But for her, he almost thought it was worth it to live.

Sometimes he felt as if he could feel time moving, slipping through his fingers, and that dreaded moment of judgment creeping up closer and closer behind him, breathing down his neck. A walking dead man— that's what he was. The person currently cradling her, whispering sweet lies and false promises, was just his shell, a ticking time bomb or a lit candle only waiting for its fuse to burn out. That is precisely why he said nothing more as she urged him to go back to sleep once again. Said nothing as she draped the covers over them. Said nothing as the stifling silence threatened to pull him under once again. 

He would not be sleeping tonight, although she did not need to know that.