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[deepfivetraveller]

Moriarty the Patriot x sick!child! reader (Platonic)

Chapter 3

So sorry for not uploading earlier! I had a lot of things going on in my life and I wasn't in the mood to write and when I was in the mood all I wrote was just trash D: But anyways here is the next chapter! btw the coloured texts indicate that those are the readers notes/cards

“You’re awfully quiet today. Is something bothering you?” William  passes back your plate after chopping up the steak into small bite sized pieces. “Maybe it’s because I literally can’t?” You remind him.

“True.” Albert places his fork back on the table. “But you tend to exceed your limits in order to convey your thoughts. “What happened?”

You finish your meal instantly  and wipe your mouth with a napkin. It’s been almost three weeks since you moved in here and things were going splendidly.  Two entire library’s were at your disposal along with William, who taught you mathematics and science whenever he was free Albert too doubled as a maths teacher since he showed you ways to handle paperwork, how to levy taxes on the estates citizens and how to even calculate your own taxes. Louis did an excellent job teaching you etiquette for  all forms of formal functions. But what’s the point of learning that if you never have the opportunity to use them? It started to get boring, seeing the same faces over and over again. But oh got you do not have a single bit of courage to tell these men that. They have been nothing but kind to you ever since they took you in and you feel a pang of guilt for even thinking of saying it’s getting boring.

 Louis cuts off your train of thought. “It’s alright y/n. If you never open up, how will we solve the problem? We are family now, so do not fret. We shall try to keep an open mind.”

You nod to his advice and pick up your pen to write. Albert and William are relieved (and maybe a little jealous) that you have already established a bond with Louis. They pestered you continuously and yet you only answered him.

It makes sense why though. Both of you know well what it feels like to have a disease that dictates the entire course of your life. You see some parts of you in him and he sees some parts of him in you.

‘It’s getting boring here. I want a friend.’

“Are we not your friends?” William replies.

‘I was thinking of someone closer to my age.’ 

Both Louis and Albert look at William with a smile, taken aback by your remark.

Two nights ago

“Y/n needs to spend more time with girls her age, or any women so to speak.” William argues. “She is a growing child and needs to socialise. It’s a normal want for any human really.”

“I know, I know.” Albert agrees hastily. “It’s just that-” He sighs and rubs his palm over his face. Louis takes this as his sign to  continue his elder brother's sentence. “How are we going to find a long term friend for her without interfering with our plans dear brother? No noble would allow their child to play with her since she’s adopted.”

“And no commoner would even come near her because she isn’t ‘One of them.’ ” Albert finishes. William understands their reluctance very much. “I understand your worries and I’ve come up with a temporary solution. Why not let Y/n play with helena?” He proposes. “The daughter of the department store owner?” Albert sits on top of the table while Louis sits down on the couch.

“Yes I think she’ll work for now.” Albert calms down a little. “It’s good you came up with a solution brother. Although Fred is closer to her age, even he cannot handle her bursts of energy.” Louis smiles 

William turns towards him. “You introduced them to each other?” Albert too joins Louis on the couch and leans onto his back “Yes, We both did in fact, but although he wasn’t wary of her he never spoke a word! He only kept nodding his head for a yes or no. Even Y/n who doesn’t talk found it weird.”

“Was he shy? Why would he be?” Louis is confused while  Albert chuckles. “No, no It’s for a different reason.’’  

Present

Guess that planning paid off. William was able to exactly predict your need which surprised both of them. A child is very unpredictable in nature and all three of them were inexperienced in taking care of one. Although this is nothing compared to plans usually William creates, it still deserves a round of applause. Louis made a note to make William favourite dessert for tomorrow night as thank you for this.

“We were actually planning on telling this later but we were going to take up to a friend's home.” Louis reassures. “They have a child who's your age.”

“Oh really? I'm glad.” You sigh.

 The men awkwardly chuckle, ending lunch.

 And with that, evening arrived quickly, so Louis and moneypenny accompanied you to her home.“How do you feel?” She asks you while you look outside the carriage.   

‘A little nervous.’

“That's alright. I'm sure you'll like her and she'll reciprocate it too.” Louis gently strokes your hair and reminds you “Like I said, she can perceive sounds in the form of colours due to her colour synesthesia, and she seems to be insecure about it too. You may use this as an opening for a conversation but make sure not to offend her.” Naturally you nod to his advice.

What kind of person is she? From Williams perspective she seems to be a ‘unique’ and ‘intelligent’ individual but those descriptions seem to be vague. But one thing is obvious. She is just like you, a child who lost her parents. Maybe it would be a topic you could talk about if you grow close. 

At last you arrived there.  Both adults help you get off the carriage. You approach the two people in front of you and the father comes close to you.

“Good afternoon miss Y/n.” Normally in high society, miss and mister are only used with people who are close like friends are. Although this doesn't apply to them since they are of a normal background, Louis noticed this minute detail, a desperate indicator that he wanted Y/n and his daughter to interlink. You however payed no heed to this and simply offered a handshake with a smile. You looked next to him and saw Helena.

“Hello, I'm Helena Curtis. Nice to meet you. What's your name?”

‘Y/n’ you show her your card.

‘I heard that you can see people's personalities in the form of colors. Can you tell me what color I am?’

“Hmm…” She looked at you sharply. “I would be able to tell more clearly if you talked…”

“Helena!” Her father looked at her with wide eyes. You patted his forearm to signal its alright. It's nothing to take offence about. She just wants to hear your voice.

“How about now?” Your voice came out much raspier than expected.

“Oh….OH…” she looked at you with wonder. You cleared your throat and apologized. “I'm sorry about that. It happens when I go long periods of time without talking.”

“No not that. You. You are a balance.” She answers

‘A balance?’ You frown. That's a neutral reply.

“Yes a balance, like the Chinese concept of yin and yang.  Both your positive and negative traits cancel out, making you a perfect shade of gray.. or maybe nothing. I would go as far as saying you're… the perfect human being.” 

‘Nobody's perfect.’ 

“And yet you are.” She finally smiles back. “Come inside. I want to show you something.”  Helena runs off inside and you try to catch up to her. 

“It looks like they’ll get along well. I’ll come to pick her up at sundown. Farewell Mr Cutis” Louis tips off his hat.

“Farewell.”

“And then we both realised it was pointless and went back to play with the ships.” You took a deep breath after your summary. All Louis asked was if you had fun there.

Look like both of you hit off. A good portion of his worries has been lifted off from his body.

“That sounds lovely Y/n. Now get ready for dinner.”

‘What about both of your brothers? I didn’t even see them when I arrived back. Where are they?’

“Oh they went out for some work related stuff. You shall meet them at dinner.” Strange. Overtime such as this  is understandable for a military officer but not a university professor. You wanted to ask more so you started writing rapidly, to ask further questions and while Louis was reading your card, a blond man with a blindfold barged in making both of you scramble in shock.

“Hey did you see William’s cane? I swear I put it somewhere over here.” He looks around. 

“You can see through the blindfold?!?” 

He sheepishly replies “yes and no.”

“How many fingers am I holding?” You hold 4 fingers.

“Negative 3.5.” He looks around hastily. “The point is, where is his cane? I put it right here.” He shows us a side of the drawer facing the wall. 

“Maybe it is there.” He patiently inserts his fingers between the gap of the drawer and the wall to miraculously pull out the missing cane. “Ah there it is! I’ve been looking for it for such a long time!” He snatches it from Louis, who in return only frowns. You on the other hand roll your eyes and write a note, showing Louis to tell him. Herder instantly recognises the pen you’re using by the sound of its scratches.

“You’re using the pen that I made.” his expression goes blank.

‘You made this?’

“Yea!” He lights up. “I didn’t quite understand why William wanted me to make a pen but he told me it was for a person who writes a lot, which honestly wasn’t a satisfactory explanation. How is it?” You look at him in the face and the man seems to be expecting approval. It’s honestly kind of endearing. Such a genius like him wanting the approval of a child so desperately. And of course you lie.

“It’s…okay I guess?” Herder’s expression drops. “W-What do you mean it’s just okay?! I personally sat down, chose the materials to make that! It took me 10 hours to make a single pen!” He screams. Louis seems very displeased by his attitude hence he strikes him at the back of his head.

“OW OW! Sorry!” He backs away. Maybe you shouldn't be here for long. “W-Wait child I have something to show you.” He pulls out an object that seems to be a pen and hands it towards you. When you open its cap, you notice the tip of the object has a pencil-like barrel but there is a small ball at its very tip. “Go on. Write with it”

With his permission you begin to write with that pen on your card. The pen glided smoothly on the paper. Its ink was unlike any of the inks you have used before, forcing you to write faster.

‘This pen is amazing! What do you call it?’

Herder finally seemed satisfied. “Thank you! I plan on giving it a simple name. Since it has a tiny ball at its tip, why not call it a ball pen?” 

‘That’s a great idea! From the looks of it you seem to be some sort of engineer. Do you have any other inventions?’

“Oh yes I do, Come with me.” He grabs hold of your hand. “My lab is just nearby if you wa-” “That’s enough Herder. She’s only a child.” Louis interjects. “But, Bu-” “No buts, no ifs, nothing! If you have any safer invention already present inside the house, you may show it to her.” You can almost see his face droop to disappointment. Louis cuts the tension. “It’s almost dinner time, we should head out now. Mr Q, would you be joining us? I’ve prepared extra food just in case for moments like these.”

“No thanks Louis.” He declines. “However I really enjoyed seeing a new face, even though I actually can’t see you.” His voice trailed off after that. “Well anyway goodnight!” And with that he finally left the room. For some reason you think this encounter is comical and will serve you a greater purpose in the future. But that aside, it’s dinner time! You run towards the dining room even though Louis was warning you not to and plopped yourself onto the chair, eagerly awaiting dinner.

A few minutes go by but you didn’t care much about it. Rather, you were wondering what the dinner will be. But those few minutes turned into half an hour making you rather worried. Although Louis was just behind you, he took another route since he wanted to inspect the food and serve it himself. 

Your patience ran thin. Naturally you got irritated and left your seat. Where is everyone?! Using your ears you were able to find a mix of voices from the entrance of the manor. This mix contained the voice of Albert, William, Louis, Moran, James, Fred and of some random lady. Considering the volume it seems that they were yelling or atleast one of them was.

Out of curiosity, you hid behind the main door and saw all the men gathered around the lady just near the gates. Moreover Moran and James were holding the ladys arms!

Albert flat out tells her. “I’m sorry mam but we can’t let you see her no matter how big the reason is.”The lady seems to not like his response considering the fact that she started to get even more aggressive. “We cannot allow you to meet her however if you want we can convey a message to her” James proposes this idea in the hopes of calming her down.

“I have no intention of seeing her. That girl is a monster!” She booms her voice.

Wait a minute. You knew that voice, She wasn't a stranger, she-

James chuckles.“Mam I would highly disagree on that part. Y/n is a sweet young girl who just wants to-”

“I AM HER MOTHER!”

Everyone looks at the woman in shock

“I AM…her mother.” Her voice faints down. “Trust me…that girl is a MONSTER.”

[deepfivetraveller]

♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧ 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱'𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 ♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 sukuna is a mafia kingpin 𖥔 teasing grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 pregnancy trope 𖥔 he'll burn the world for you 𖥔 "my wife" 𖥔 he's a great dad 𖥔 mentions of miscarriage 𖥔 mentions of physical and sexual assault 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 he loves eating you out 𖥔 anal play (yup.) 𖥔 last warning: mdni!

: ̗̀➛ words: 6.0k

: ̗̀➛ notes: no bc i love you all so much. it's insane how much you guys have supported my toji fanfic & and my nanami fanfic. i'll def be writing a part two to both of those masterpieces (yes i have self-confidence). as someone who's always imagined sukuna as a mafia leader, i decided to say fuck it and write it. please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy! (p.s. pregnancy trope>>>)

You never thought you'd be married to Sukuna Ryomen, let alone carrying his kid again. Yet, four years deep into this forced marital mess, thanks to your father owing a hefty debt to the kingpin of the underworld crime syndicate, here you were.

“Look at you, Mrs. Sukuna, radiant as ever!” chirped one of your husband’s associate's wives. You had studied a name list last night, but it all escaped your memory after you passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Sukuna wasn’t keeping a hawk's eye on you like he used to when you first stepped into the public eye. Gone were the days of his glares if you messed up a name. Never once had he laid a finger on you at home, despite your assumption that forgetfulness would earn you a beating.

“Thank you." You forced a smile at the woman, your patience waning as the mayor's birthday party stretched on. It was almost the end of the night, and your feet were protesting from traipsing around in flats. All you craved at that moment was your bed, pronto.

The woman and her husband attempted to capture Sukuna's lukewarm attention through political discussions and expressing gratitude for the illegal artillery shipments from your husband's syndicate. They made no effort to acknowledge your existence by his side.

Your hand rested on your belly, a mere eight months into your pregnancy—a new personal record. The first time you conceived, Sukuna demanded an heir, and you willingly agreed, knowing that the child would provide some distraction in the expansive estate that felt like a cage. Unfortunately, at the two-month mark, you experienced a miscarriage.

Feeling Sukuna's knuckles lightly tapping your back, you straightened your posture momentarily, only to slouch again almost instantly. It was futile. The discomfort of your swollen and cramped belly made it nearly impossible to maintain a poised demeanor in the midst of the party.

Disobeying Sukuna meant facing inevitable death, a fact well understood in his dangerous domain, and you had never dared to challenge that.

"Let's go," Sukuna said, cutting through the incessant chatter of the couple. He didn't grasp your hand, only your fragile wrist, a gesture you didn't mind. Yours was not a typical love; he, Sukuna Ryomen, a most feared monster in the criminal underworld, and you, a sacrificial lamb, a trophy collected three years ago, a means to his heir.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you exited the venue, heading towards the limousine surrounded by fifteen armed guards under Sukuna's command. "I'm so sorry—"

"Get in the car." He held the door open for you, signaling his guards to disperse and take their positions in the Jeeps parked behind.

Silencing yourself, you cautiously settled into the back seat, and Sukuna joined you, slamming the door with force. His anger was discernible, and the memory of that night, losing your second unborn child to a kidnapping, plagued your dreams. You were uncertain if the nightmares were about Sukuna's wrath upon finding you or the horrors his enemies inflicted on you during your 48-hour captivity.

Sukuna noticed your struggle with the seatbelt and contorted his body toward you. Your fingers released their grip on the belt, allowing him to pull it taut and secure it snugly around your midsection. Click. He withdrew, distancing himself from your face that had been mere inches away.

“Tedious fucking party, anyway,” Sukuna grumbled, his left ankle casually perched on his right kneecap. He always adopted a specific posture, his elbow leaning against something, cheek resting on his knuckles, and his narrow eyes a rich brown that could almost pass for a deep shade of red. He exuded an unrelenting air of intimidation.

"I agree," you unintentionally voiced your thoughts, earning a sidelong glance from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

His attention barely lingered on you as the car roared to life. You breathed a sigh of relief, stretching out your legs and leaning your head back against the seat's shoulder. Your palm absentmindedly traced circles on your belly. Goosebumps peppered your skin from the frigidness in the car, stirring an involuntary shudder.

"Turn on the heater," Sukuna ordered the driver in his smooth, languid baritone.

"Yes, sir."

As warmth gradually surrounded the backseat, you hummed a small "Thank you" and closed your eyes, enjoying a few moments of peace.

Disorientation clouded your senses, and you dispelled it by rubbing your eyes and using your knuckles to prop yourself against the headboard. A couple of contractions ripped through your gut, causing you to groan and hiss through gritted teeth.

The enormous room was devoid of Sukuna, its black silk sheets hinting at the luxury covering you. The fireplace casted a warm glow, and a soft, dim golden light spilled from the lamp onto the floor.

In the first year of your marriage and pregnancy, your bedroom was located three doors away. You were tended to by on-site nurses and doctors, surrounded by an entourage of maids for company. Days were spent aimlessly wandering the estate, occasionally crossing paths with one of Sukuna's mistresses, their curious smirks evident as they exited his room.

The second year brought a subtle shift. You still slept alone, but now there was a surprising addition of joining Sukuna for dinner. Positioned diagonally from him, an air of restrained silence hung above your head. Yet, between the utensils clattering and quiet chewing, Sukuna's glances toward you and your five-month-old belly revealed your anticipation for the impending arrival of your child.

One of your maids had been instructed to lure you into a private conversation in the back garden, and before you could react, a group of men clad in black drugged you and forcibly removed you from the cage, which in that cruel moment felt like a sanctuary.

Most details of the monstrosities forced upon you in that warehouse have been compressed by your mind—the merciless physical and sexual assault endured for hours. They callously bragged that raping Sukuna's Ryomen's wife was a personal victory, cackling like bloodthirsty hyenas as you bled from your legs. In the thick of your suffering, you lost your second child in a pool of your own sweat and feces.

When Sukuna discovered you, when he annihilated every man along with their bloodlines, you were left as a mere shell of a woman, practically lifeless. You've existed as a walking corpse for quite some time now. Following that dreadful night, you attempted every conceivable means to end your own life—drowning, leaping out of windows, creating a makeshift noose from bed sheets and tying them around balcony railings, teetering on the edge—but every attempt proved useless. Sukuna consistently interfered at the last minute, sweeping in and enveloping you in his arms as you wept until unconsciousness claimed you for days.

Therapy provided some relief, as did the medications. Sukuna heightened security measures tenfold, keeping only those workers who served during his father and grandfather's reigns. He moved your belongings into his bedroom, sleeping by your side with a gun beneath his pillow. There were times when you would doze off in the library while reading, only to wake up in his room.

Two years seemed like an eternity in the slow process of healing, both physically and mentally, from the torment that had befallen you. Stepping into the garden was a reminder of the progress you had made, yet the hope that blossomed in your womb now filled you with a different kind of fear.

You needed your baby. Even if it meant risking your own life during childbirth. The only thing that mattered was the precious life you carried within you, and as long as your baby took that first breath, you'd welcome death with open arms.

Sukuna's bedroom door creaked open, revealing his presence.

Mink-colored tendrils of hair obscured his eyes, disheveled from their usual spiked stance. The stark white of his dress shirt was marred by the unmistakable stains of someone else's blood, and a gun dangled casually from his grasp. In the subdued lighting, his facial markings, inked tattoos designed to mask the scars of his tormented childhood, appeared more ominous than ever.

Without acknowledging your ogling, he briskly entered his bathroom.

You slipped back under the covers, pulling the comforter up to your chin, soothing the sharp twinges in your belly. The rhythmic sounds of his shower served as a background melody. Sukuna took an eternity to freshen up, nearly two hours passing before the door finally creaked open. You had kept a close eye on it, lost in your own world and trying to ignore the persistent contractions. No complaints, though – you were at the eight-month mark, and this baby was determined to make its entrance into the world.

Draped in a sleek black silk robe, Sukuna strolled toward his side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. "Why are you still awake?" He tilted his head as if studying an unfamiliar creature. He always regarded you with a curious interest, unearthing some new revelations about you.

"Cramps," you whispered in the dimness, even though the first rays of morning sun began to seep through the curtains.

Sukuna strolled to his side of the bed, lifting the comforter to settle down. "Do you take any medication for it?"

You shook your head. "I don't want to take any risks."

"So you're just going to endure the night with a migraine?"

Your husband seemed oblivious to the concept of cramps. He hadn't bothered to educate himself about your pregnancy or even familiarize himself with basic menstrual cycle terminology. You hesitated to bring attention to his title and position, but he was, after all, born from a woman.

How could he not know?

"Answer me," Sukuna demanded, fixing you with a cold, indifferent gaze. How could two simple words carry such a heavy, intimidating weight? Your entire body shuddered, and you swore you felt your child kick in response to his attitude, causing you to clench your teeth.

"Cramps . . . are something women experience during their period and pregnancy. They're sharp, unpredictable pains in your gut and back," you explained, finding a position that eased the cramps and calmed your baby. "It's worse when you're pregnant—like someone attached a taser to your body without a switch to turn it off."

Sukuna's brow furrowed, and he seemed pissed off as if he held a vendetta against cramps. "Will it have any consequence on the baby?"

You were really trying to be patient. “The baby is the reason why.” 

He ran his hands wearily down his face, casting a stern gaze at the ceiling, his breath quickening. "Is there any way to relieve the pain? Besides medication?"

“Well,” you said slowly, “when I first started menstruating, my mother used to place a warm rubber bottle on my stomach.” The recollection of nights spent groaning, tossing, and turning with your hand clutching your stomach brought a smile. After her passing in high school, you found yourself managing the household, dealing with your drug-addicted father, and taking care of yourself all on your own.

"Come here."

Startled, you shifted your focus to your husband, who raised the comforter like a makeshift tent with one arm. "You don't have to—"

"Come here."

With caution, you edged closer, lying flat and holding your breath. Sukuna propped himself up on one elbow, resting his temple on his knuckles while adjusting the blanket up to your neck. His left hand glided up your sweater and settled on your swollen belly.

An immediate sense of relaxation cocooned you, your eyes closing as warmth radiated from his palm onto your skin. The sensation passed through to your child, who quit kicking within seconds, seemingly recognizing their father's touch. It dawned on you that Sukuna hadn't touched you since you conceived, and you hadn't realized the volume of your misery and longing until this moment.

"Feeling better?"

"Mm-hmm." You nestled your face close to his neck. All you managed to whisper, your voice tinged with brokenness, was, "Please, don't let go."

Sukuna responded only with silence.

You'd woken up screaming bloody-mary.

The security team and maids hurried into the bedroom, their eyes widening at the sight of blood staining your clothes and darkening the black sheets. In a swift response, the doctor and her team of nurses rushed in while Uraume, Sukuna's trusted aide, calmly called for your husband from a corner of the room.

In the heat of your excruciating screams, five nurses attempted to guide your breathing and encourage you to follow a pattern. Guards carefully lifted you into a sitting position, and Uraume decisively cleared the room of all men. The doctor swiftly removed your sweatpants and panties, covering your lower region with a sheet, and instructing you to push.

Your body felt numb, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and a black vignette closing in on your vision. Your head swayed left and right, on the verge of dropping if not for Uraume's unwavering support. Despite the intensity of your grip, they held steady, their only reaction being a stream of muttered curses amid the chaotic scene.

"I can't—Uraume—"

"You will, Mrs. Sukuna. You have come this far. Giving up now is not an option."

"I don't want to die," you whispered akin to a prayer.

"You won't," they softly replied. "He won't allow it."

Uraume, a silent figure from the past, now stood by your side, offering support and encouragement. The connection with them had been minimal, limited to the formalities of a marital contract signing. They had simply muttered, “He’s not half as evil as they say,” to you before packing up the papers and leaving you in the room with Sukuna.

The room buzzed with affirmations, reassuring you that they could see the baby's head and urging you to push with each breath.

The sound of the baby's cries stirred you awake.

You snapped to attention at the sweet, reassuring sound, realizing that your baby was close to arrival—alive and ready to face the world. Following two heartbreaking miscarriages and the pain endured as Sukuna's wife, the bearer of his lost children, you were finally on the cusp of welcoming motherhood.

"Two more pushes!" The doctor's voice cut through the air.

"AGH!" A guttural growl escaped your throat as you grappled with the harsh sensations. Your body trembled, and waves of fiery discomfort overflowed through your core as you exerted yourself to bring your baby into the world.

"Come on," Uraume whispered. "You can do this, Mrs. Sukuna."

You let out a powerful cry and strained with effort, bringing forth new life. The baby and you were crying at the exact wavelength, competing against who could be louder. The nurses and attendants, familiar faces from your previous pregnancies, clasped their hands in prayer for a safe delivery. Tears of relief streamed down your face as you pushed for your own well-being.

"Blanket!" the doctor urgently called out, prompting a nurse to rush over with a soft cream blanket. "Push!"

With a final, determined push, the weight lifted suddenly.

The slippery sensation of delivering the child and the immediate release of pressure left you slumping against Uraume's shoulder. As they laid you down, the doctor directed the staff to tend to you while the baby's cries filled the air.

The doctor approached through your hazy sight and gently laid your newborn on your chest. Overwhelmed with emotion, you showered your baby with kisses, tears of joy streaming down your face. Your little one was here. They were finally here.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Sukuna," the doctor announced as the cries of your newborn gradually faded into the background. "It's a girl."

You drifted into unconsciousness.

The soft cadence of Sukuna's voice filtered through the foggy boundaries of sleep, causing you to slowly come back to life.

“Why is this brat refusing to sleep?” you heard your husband grumbling.

With a laborious effort, you rubbed your eyes, summoning the strength to lift your head from the comfort of the pillow. The scene unfolded before you—Sukuna, the most feared criminal, pacing at the foot of his bed, cradling your crying newborn daughter in his arms, unsure of how to handle his little foe.

"What do you want? Food? You don’t have any teeth yet, little miscreant."

"Sukuna . . ." you whispered, a gentle plea for attention.

Your husband's gaze snapped in your direction, relief washing over his features as he realized you were conscious. "Thank fuck." Moving swiftly, he approached and took a seat at the edge of the bed.

His brown-reddish eyes lingered on the delicate scene unfolding before him—the intertwining of your index finger with your daughter's tiny, rattling fist. A calming magic seemed to stem from your touch, instantly soothing the cries to soft sniffles.

"Already playing favorites, I see," he remarked with a teasing tone, a wry smile on his lips.

"I have to feed her." Your voice was hoarse from the relentless screaming during the delivery. A series of deadly wheezes followed when you coughed, frightening your baby once more. Her cries started again, blending with the impatient curses of her father.

He gently placed her in the cradle, his strength used to prop you up against the headboard. The room carried the scent of coconut soap, your body freshly washed, the sheets beneath you brand-new. You were also dressed in a new set of panties and a nursing bra.

"Are you sure you have enough nutrients in your body to feed her?" Sukuna asked, holding your baby girl as you unclipped the front left cup. Rather than wasting your breath on a response, you focused on helping your daughter latch onto your nipple.

You winced once she caught it, then melted back as she started drinking. “I’m fine,” you finally answered. “Body . . . hurts.”

"No shit. You pushed an eight-kilo baby out of you." Despite the crude sarcasm in his tone, Sukuna tenderly caressed his knuckles over his daughter's cheek.

"Did you want . . . a girl?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, adjusting your baby onto your lap. "I assumed you'd prefer a boy as an heir."

"I'm not my father," he declared, putting an end to the conversation. "She's got your eyes."

Your daughter gazed up at you with a curiosity remarkably similar to yours. You smiled down at her, grateful she had made it. Grateful that Sukuna wasn't throwing a tantrum over the gender of your child but instead cupping the top of his baby girl's head and brushing his thumb across her forehead.

“You got a name for her?” Sukuna asked.

“Yes, but we can brainstorm if you don’t—”

“You carried the child, you birthed her, you will name her. Whatever it is, I agree.”

Something dead stirred inside your chest. Swallowing hard, you shared the chosen name, "Nobara."

He nodded in approval, and as he pronounced her name, Nobara responded with a wailing cry. "Her tantrums will be the fucking death of me." Sukuna took her into his arms again.

"Support the back of her head and rub her back. She needs to be burped," you advised.

He grunted but followed your instructions. Moments later, a tiny burp from Nobara made you chuckle, earning a slight eye roll and a hint of a smile from him.

"I'll take the next few weeks off to help you recover from the aftermath and the stitches," he announced, rising and walking towards his work desk, where he settled into a large leather chair, cradling your newborn.

You nodded appreciatively, easing yourself down.

"Oh, before I forget," Sukuna mentioned as you settled into bed, "I've arranged a new doctor for you."

“Did you fire the last one?”

“I fired at her, yes.”

Your eyes widened. "What? Why would you—? What?"

He shrugged, cradling the back of your newborn's head. "She suggested an additional stitch for you. Said it would make things 'tighter' down there for me."

Your face flushed. “So . . . you killed her?”

"Yes," he confirmed, his gaze fixed on you with those penetrating eyes, "I don't need a mere doctor questioning whether I'd still enjoy having sex with my wife after she gave birth to our child."

“But . . . you have mistresses. Don’t you?”

He lifted a brow. “I had mistresses up until . . . ”

Up until the kidnapping.

Sukuna never spoke of the crime after he’d saved you. Instead, he expressed his commitment through actions: sleeping beside you, teaching you how to handle a handgun, keeping a protective arm around your waist at social gatherings. Occasionally, you swore you felt him run his fingers through your hair as you slept.

"I wouldn't mind if you did," you admitted, a voice inside contradicting your words. "Given what my body has been through, I would find myself repulsive for pleasure, too. I understand if you feel disgusted."

Sukuna halted the gentle strokes on your daughter's back and straightened up. "What the fuck did you just say?"

An icy shiver ran through you, momentarily numbing the pain. "I-I just assumed—"

"You know, you make a lot of assumptions about me, wife. It gets under my fucking skin that you'd ever believe I could raise a hand on you. Day and night, every hour and minute, even now, in your presence, my mind is consumed with ways to kill the fear that's taken root in you.” He was infuriated yet vulnerable, with Nobara sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. “Everyone I’ve ever met has done nothing but fear me like I’m a curse on their soul, and while I’m flattered of the monster they’ve painted me out to be, I refuse to let my wife and daughter see me in that light. Do I make myself clear?"

You . . . nodded. 

“And for your information, I had mistresses up until I married you.”

You took in a sharp breath, processing the confession. "But those women—"

"Spies," he clarified, his voice low and steady. "They operate undercover in my clubs, keeping an eye out for potential threats. I haven't fucked anyone since the day I put that ring on your finger." He offered a small, almost imperceptible apology to your baby for cursing.

"Oh."

All you ever heard were twisted stories about the Sukuna Ryomen, a young man who, against all odds, slaughtered his own father to ascend the throne of the underworld criminal realm. Whispers spoke of a chilling childhood, where a mother's desperate attempt to suffocate her son in his sleep. The scars etched into his skin, concealed beneath a tapestry of dark markings, bore witness to the brutal initiation rites inflicted by vengeful uncles. In his domain, everyone prayed to see him buried six feet under.

Which is why you felt sympathy for your husband. He was lonely. Too lonely. Despite all the riches and influence surrounding him, he was stuck in a fortress where danger lurked around every corner. He had no friends, no one he could truly confide in—except perhaps Uraume. Opening up about his emotions wasn't in his nature. He kept the tough exterior, convinced that being a monster, a curse, was the only path to earning respect and recognition.

But just now, when had cut himself open in front of you and bled a human color, he was Ryomen. Your husband. The one who just became a father. A man wrapped in a comfortable robe with his hair combed down and his skin clean of dirt and blood as he held his daughter, as he gazed at you like you two were the only people meant fighting for in his treacherous world.

Sukuna noticed your silence, tuned in to your steady breaths, and lowered his lashes. "You'll ask me to touch you. Not just for the sake of having another child but for your own pleasure. If I'm not around and you need me, you will call, and I'll rush home. If this little brat gives you any trouble, I'll handle it. Hell, maybe I'll let her in on a bit of the family business for a head start."

"No," you murmured, absorbing everything he'd just said. "Not now. I want her to enjoy a proper childhood."

"Is that a demand?" Sukuna tilted his head slightly, another method of asserting authority. Yet, after all he'd shared about dropping everything for you, about making love to you, the fear in you started to dissolve bit by bit.

"Yes," you affirmed. "It's a demand."

A small smirk played on Sukuna's lips as he rose from his spot, circled the bed, and settled down beside you, with Nobara resting peacefully on his chest. Summoning all your strength, you turned to run your fingers over your baby's soft cheek and tiny, parted lips.

“She sleeps like you, Mr. Sukuna.”

“Ryomen,” he corrected, his arm covering his eyes as he breathed with a slightly open mouth. “My wife will call me Ryomen.”

Teasingly, you asked, “Is that a demand, Ryomen?”

His arm shifted low, and his reddish-brown eyes softened, stealing your breath. “Only from my wife and daughter.”

You smiled, closing your eyes. “Goodnight, Ryomen.”

In response, he wrapped his strong arm around you, pulling you close to his side, his two girls snuggled against his body.

In the beginning, you knew you didn't belong in the hell Sukuna ruled. Your father's mistakes, pilfering drug shipments and peddling them locally, had sealed both his fate and yours. With thoughts of fleeing the disgrace your father brought upon your family, you had started packing, desperate to escape the clutches of your old man.

The following night, Sukuna and his henchmen barged into your cramped apartment, wreaking havoc on every piece of furniture. Rocking in the corner of your room, Sukuna casted his shadow over you like the God of Death, bathed in your father’s blood.

Crouching down to your eye level, he tipped your chin up, leaving a splotch of blood. He used the collar of your sweater to wipe it away. In a hushed confession, you revealed the hidden drugs under the sink and floorboards, along with your father's buyer list folded in the cereal boxes. Sukuna grinned and ordered his underlings to retrieve the concealed items. Then, the chilling question hung in the air: "Are you going to kill me, too?"

"I'm tempted," Sukuna replied, "but not to kill you." His gaze fixated on your left hand, and he raised it, studying your ring finger. "You will pay for your father's crimes with your life." He held your hand in front of your face. "You will take my last name." His smirk widened, revealing perfect teeth. "Isn't that the cruelest form of death, love?"

Unconsciousness claimed you then, but after seven years of marriage, enduring unimaginable hardships, and finally welcoming a baby into the world, your answer was clear. The true torment wasn't caused by the man you once perceived as a monster but rather by his enemies.

"How am I supposed to know if Mr. Munchkin wants more tea? He's a fucking stuffed toy. Can't talk, you know?"

"Ryo," you warned, perched on the armrest while busy crocheting baby socks for your little one on the way.

Nobara, wielding a rubber, squeaky hammer, stood up from her seat, giving her father a bonk on the head each time he let out a curse. And you often heard the squeak of the hammer around the house.

Nobara's tiara was slightly askew, frustration evident in her curled lips and bared teeth. She was growing increasingly irritated with her father's lack of understanding about the rules of her tea party. "Mr. Munchkin wants tea, Papa. Give him tea! Give him tea! Give him—"

"Fine, I surrender. Here, you little bastard. Take the whole fu—damn pot." He shoved the plastic teapot towards Mr. Munchkin, a well-loved cat stuffed toy you had gifted Nobara on her last birthday. "Happy?"

"Cup," she insisted, pointing at the tea cup in front of Mr. Munchkin.

Sukuna sighed and poured the water from the kettle into the pink plastic cup.

"Me too," Nobara added, settling back in her kiddie chair. Sukuna had barely taken his seat before she had him on the floor. "Hurry!"

"May I pour for the other toys first, Your Highness?"

"Not toys. Friends."

Sukuna shot you a helpless glare, eliciting a chuckle from you. He filled the table with tea, and Nobara, holding her small cup, clinked it with her father's, followed by her collection of stuffed animals. Sukuna reluctantly mimicked the gesture. Instead of sipping the tea, he downed it like a shot.

“Papa!”

“Ryo, come on.”

There wasn’t any winning with his girls.

Sukuna reluctantly poured himself another cup, sipping it with an air of reluctance that mirrored a princess. Despite his resistance to the make-believe tea party, you couldn't ignore the genuine affection he showed toward his daughter. He would nod attentively when one of the stuffed animals "spoke," laughed along with Nobara, and even beautified himself with a glittering tiara, a feathered pink scarf, and deep purple-painted nails.

Sukuna was, without a doubt, a fantastic father. It came as no surprise that Nobara's first word was 'Brat.'

That night, you kissed your daughter goodnight and tucked her into her bed. Sukuna joked that he’d spent every last bit of his wealth decorating the brat’s room, filling it with the latest toys, and stacking her closet with whatever clothes she laid her finger or eyes on. She was truly the princess of her father’s heart.

"She's asleep," you informed him.

"I'll give her a kiss in a minute. Just need to finish this," Sukuna replied, poring over his documents.

Letting out a sigh, you shuffled over, rolled back his chair, and settled onto his lap. He continued reading as you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your cheek on his shoulder, peering at him through your lashes.

"I want you, Ryo," you murmured.

Sukuna paused, lowering his gaze to meet your cheeky smile. "Later."

"It's late."

"I have to finish—" He halted as you began kissing his neck, moving up to his jaw and cheeks, tracing the contours of his face tattoos.

"Please, Ryo," you whispered near his ear.

How could he refuse you anything when you appeared so stunning, radiating with the joy of expecting another child in your four-month-old belly?

“Take off your robe and get on the bed. Spread your legs for me.” He gave your ass a little smack as you happily skipped away, shedding your clothes and clearing the bed to settle in. With a grin, you opened your legs, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Sukuna stood up from his seat, loosening his robe as he did. He sighed, watching the moisture forming between your legs. Pregnancy seemed to heighten your lusts, and Sukuna was always ready to fulfill your needs.

“What pretty, wet cunt,” he whispered softly, leaning in to kiss your chest, trailing down to your stomach, your hips, your calling clit. 

Over the years, you realized Sukuna enjoyed pleasuring you more than the opposite. He feasted on you like a starved man, whether it happened in the back of the limo, in a guest room during a party, or just minutes before a crucial meeting in his office. He insisted it was his way of relaxing, often pleading with you to spend a full hour on his face as he ate you out and drank every drop of your release. It had turned into a daily routine for him. And for you.

“Oh, Ryo, yes, yes. Right there—ah!” Your back arched off the mattress when his tongue drove into your hole, flicking and exploring your clamping walls. His mouth was latched to your pussy, sucking it in, his cheeks hollowing rapidly. Your fingers tightened in his hair, hips voluntarily grating against his face, his sharp nose rubbing over your swollen clit. 

Sukuna drew back as you came down with a muted cry behind your hand and lapped at the flow of your juices pouring out of you. His lips shone as he leaned over and gently kissed you, allowing you to taste yourself from his tongue. “If I don’t fuck you now, I will die.” 

“Hurry, then.” 

Sukuna pushed himself inside you, and that first wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you sank your nails in his back and cried out heavenwards. He groaned and grunted, thrusts growing speed, his plump balls smacking against your ass. You loved that he fucked harder, faster, driving you to the brink of ruination. 

After you'd healed from Nobara's birth, he would always make sure to get at least ten orgasms from you. From midnight to early morning, he'd fuck you in every possible position. But his favorite was always missionary, where he could have his eyes on you, writhing and whimpering beneath him, telling him it’s too much, he's too thick, all while using your heels to draw him in even closer.

Sukuna curled his arm around your waist and sat you up on his lap, thrusting up into you as you coiled yourself around his neck. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Your cunt was made for me, love. Your cunt was fucking made for me.” His hand threaded to the back of your head, grasping your hair and drawing your face back so you were looking him in the eyes without wavering, without bowing your head. He needed to know you didn’t fear him when he fucked you like this. It was an unspoken check-in, and when you smiled drunkenly, only then did he let you return to embracing him. 

“Are you close?” you whispered. 

“Not yet. I want to come in your ass.” 

You shivered despite how scalding and sweaty your bodies were. “Do it.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Please.” 

Sukuna dragged you off his cock so you could get on all-fours, raising your ass up for him. He’s only ever been in your sacred spot a handful of times but never finished himself inside it. It appeared that tonight you were both a little extra spellbound.

Mounting himself behind you, Sukuna unfurled your ass and spit on his fingers, stroking the puckered hole. He gathered the creamy liquid dripping out of your pussy to lubricate the spot. His middle finger stretched you out, followed by his ring fingers, pushing in and out until he knew for sure you were prepared for him. 

Sukuna’s steel-hard cock pushed into your tiny hole. The sight of it expanding to swallow his girthy size almost made him come right there and then. He started to move in sluggish movement, grabbing onto your waist. His hips cruised, brushing against your ass, making you impatient and push yourself back. 

“Understood.” He chuckled and dug his nails into your skin, dragging out to the tip and shoving himself inside. Your face pressed into your pillows, crying and trembling as he abused your asshole non-stop. “You’re taking me so well, my love. Oh, fuck, fuck.” He rutted into you like a beast, claiming your body, rubbing your clit from the front, spanking your ass, brandishing you over and over again. 

You both snapped in unison. 

Sukuna sagged over your spine as he bucked in every last bit of his sloppy seed. His lips kissed your shoulder blades, holding you up by one arm. Gently, he pulled out, his cock growing floppy until you flipped onto your back, hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face, belly slightly swollen, your tits larger in size, his release mingled with yours seeping out from your holes. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, cupping your face like he didn’t just fuck your soul out of you. That smirk you’d come to love appeared on his lips. You reciprocated back, stretching out your arms so he could lean down and kiss you sweetly on the lips and cheeks and toss in a praise or two for what a good girl you were as he slid into you again, slower and more intimate with his game. “I fucking love you, Y/N.” 

You smiled against his lips that continuously whispered the three beautiful words and said, “I love you, too, Ryomen,” before sealing it with a long, lasting kiss.

[deepfivetraveller]

Sukuna x fem!reader (drabble)

Warning: Cannibalism (slightly), mentions of bodily fluids such as period blood and vomit, feet I guess??, corns on feet(not painful just dead skin), the reader is mentioned to have corns, eating bodily fluids, dead dove do not eat

Authors note: I didn't put much thought into this, and this idea just came to me in the middle of the night. Not proofread btw.

Sukuna, the king of curses, who has existed for over a thousand years and maybe more, is well known for his habit of eating the flesh of humans, especially infants. But what will happen if he starts to crave the flesh of his loved one?

Well, that's what happened with you. The more he fell in love with you the more he wanted to eat you. He could hypothetically eat you and heal you back with his reverse curse technique but that would traumatize you way too much and could potentially make you hate him.

So he resorts to the best thing available. This small journey of slight cannibalism starts when he accidentally stumbles upon you, trying to chew out the corns on your feet since they irritated you. Maybe you shouldn't have been too lazy to get out of bed and walk across the room to get the corn shaver.

You try to explain that the corns on your feet are itching and you wanted to just pluck them out. And yes, you expected him to be disgusted by this but Sukuna immediately propped himself onto the bed, extended your legs towards him, and started chewing out your corns with his teeth.

His sharp canines tore through your skin instantly. He even made sure he wasn't chewing too deep so you excused yourself from asking why he ate all your dead skin. Even though this was weird to you, for Sukuna it felt as if a hunger he never felt before was slightly satiated.

He got out of bed and turned towards you. “If they come back and you need to remove them, call me ya idiot.” With that he leaves the room, making you confused.

Over the next few weeks, you called him whenever your corns came back, as instructed by him, to which Sukuna was more than eager to help.

But this did not satiate his hunger entirely. The first time you got sick in front of him was one of the best moments with you. You complained on and on, about how the snot in your nose forced you to breathe through your mouth. Sadly, your annoying quibbles gave rise to a new idea.

“Brat.”

“Yes?” You sheepishly replied.

“Hold your breath for a moment.”

“But why?”

“Just do as I say.”

And you did. You took a deep breath in through your mouth and closed your eyes. Sukuna went to work immediately. He latched his mouth onto your nose and sucked out the mucus as if he were drinking a thick smoothie. And let me tell you, this man went ecstatic. He looked as if he had just drunk pure alcohol.

After he drained all of the mucus out, he pulled out his own mouth. Since you provided him with such a good snack, he had the patience to take a tissue and wipe off his saliva on your nose.

Nowadays he wishes that you get sick often so that he has the excuse to taste you. Sweaty because of the fever, no problem. He'll scoop up your sweat with his twenty chill fingers and lick it off. Throat is itchy? No biggie, Sukuna will just shove his giant tongue down your throat and clean up all your insides.

His ‘habits’ were excusable for some time since they helped you in one way or another but today was the last straw. You were on your second day of your period, which took quite a toll on your body. One of your pads wasn't positioned properly so your blood leaked onto your underwear. When you removed your panties and replaced them with new ones, you went to throw your old ones into the laundry basket as a responsible person.

And lo and behold, you were greeted by the sight of Sukuna holding your undergarment in each of his four hands, and licking your blood off of one of them.

“Sukuna are you… licking my underwear??” You drop the underwear that you held.

“Yes.” He replied with no hesitation as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

“I'm gonna vomit.”

“If you do, make sure you do it in a bowl or bottle so I can drink it later on.”

“WHAT THE F-”

[deepfivetraveller]

Moriarty the patriot x sick!child!reader

Chapter 2

Everything happened so quickly. One moment your parents got arrested by the military for smuggling drugs in one of their hotels, another moment the Moriarty household took custody of you. Looking at the window, you plan and replan on how your first meeting with them will be. You hear a faint voice saying something in the lines of "______ alright?" So you immediately turn your head to hear what the voice said.

"Is everything alright?" William repeats.

'Yes everything is alright.' You hastily write.

He gently smiles and holds both your hands. "I know it must be overwhelming for you and it's the same for us but don't you worry, we're going to take good care of you." You smile at his statement, finding comfort in it.

Silence continues for some time. In a few minutes, both of you reach the Moriarty mansion. It is fairly large in size and looks luxurious even with its simple structure. William gets out of the carriage first so he can help you out.

As you hold onto his hand and step out of the carriage, you are greeted by a man who looks similar to William. He has a huge scar mark on his cheek parallel to his jaw.

"Good afternoon brother." The man replies. "Good afternoon to you too Louis." William replies back. "Y/n this is my younger brother Louis." Louis looks at you. "A pleasure to meet you." In order to give a quick reply, you smile back.

"Now." William fixes his hat. "I have to go to Durham for that lecture."

"You're leaving?" How can he leave you like this! How can he leave you alone? Sure you have Louis but you literally just met him.

William understands your fear and tries to quell it. "Don't worry love Louis is a person I trust my soul with. I'll come back before you even notice I'm gone." "No, don't leave me!" You hold him back with your full strength which of course doesn't work. He breaks out of your grasp easily. Seeing that he is unable to persuade you, he gives you a small peck on your forehead catching you off guard. Immediately he flees while waving goodbye.

After 50 shades of denial you finally accept defeat. Louis sees an opportunity to talk with you, so he speaks. "Well since you're going to be staying here for sometime may I show you the way around the manor?" You quickly grab onto his hand before you overthink it.

As you enter the manor, you notice a man standing at a distance and you quickly conclude that he is the butler of this household. Louis takes you to him. “Y/n this is our butler Mr Jack Reinfield.” “A pleasure to meet you Ms Quinn.”

‘Please do not refer to me by my last name. It gives me unpleasant memories.’ Jack’s expression changes into a worried one. “Then is it alright if I refer to you as Young mistress instead?” You nod a yes to his question and he smiles. “I do not wish to be a hindrance in your tour so I shall take my leave. Have a wonderful afternoon.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Louis has now brought you to a living room where you see a blonde man with blue eyes sipping tea while another man beside him is drinking something from a glass bottle

"Mr Moron at least try to quit your habit of drinking in broad daylight. We have a guest here." Louis mispronounced his name on purpose as Moron to emphasise his anger towards Moran and to catch his attention even in his drunken state. Poor you, having no idea, actually thinks his name is Moron. “Moron?! Who names their child that?”

The blonde man spits his tea and starts to crack up. Even Louis turns his head to the side and giggles at your misunderstanding. “The names Moran. Pronounced Mo-run.” He patiently explains with a poker face, blinking rapidly due to his drunkenness. Realisation dawns upon you that you just called a man a moron.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t—-” You start to cough up badly. It seems you've crossed your limit for talking. Your head starts to feel hollow, vision starts to get blurry and your lungs and throat burn.

Both adults rush towards you. Louis picks you up and gently knocks on your chest and top of your head, hoping it would calm you down. Moran looks around, trying to find something that will help in the moment of panic. “Drink this.” He hands you a bottle of alcohol. “Moran, she is a child! Maybe you really are a Moron. Here sweetie drink this instead.” The blonde man hands you his cup of tea. You yank the cup and gulp down the tea. After some time, the coughing stops. You drop your head onto Louis’s chest and you breathe heavily for some time.

Later after that small recovery, you write ‘Thank you’ to the blonde man and ‘Sorry’ to Moran. “Don’t worry too much about it, I get that from kids a lot.” He shrugs.

“Y/n you already know Moran.” Louis clears his throat. “This is Mr James Bonde.” James smiles at you.

He has this sort of beauty to him, which is too much not to go unnoticed. His blue eyes remind you of an ever flowing river while his blonde hair makes you think about a paddy field. You could not resist your urge to comment on it.

‘You look so pretty Mr Bonde!’

Bonde squints and looks at your card. “ Aww thank you sweetie.”

Moran pushes James face to the side. “Hey! What about me?”

‘You look normal I guess.’ You show it with the same poker face he had. “Excuse you but many women have fallen in love with me just cus of my face and you’re saying my face looks just okay?” He points at you while stumbling a bit. Perhaps he too has reached his limit, looking at the fact that he is fighting with a child. “Alright Moran, you've drunk too much beer. Let’s get you to bed.” James leads Moran to his room.

“While they both do that, let me introduce you to Albert. He is our oldest brother and the head of this household.” Louis puts you down to the ground. It’s a little nerve wrecking, since you are going to meet the man who put your step parents in jail. But then again, in a sense he did you a favour.

In a few minutes, both of you stand in front of two huge doors. You take a deep breath in as he opens one of the doors, and step inside. There you see a brown haired man with green eyes.

The man looks at you and smiles “Ah you’re the child.” He gets up from his desk and walks towards you. He then crouches a little and stares at you, for quite some time. You can hear the ticking of the clock and you mentally note he has been staring at you for twenty one seconds.

When you finally pick a topic to write about, he pinches your cheeks, rubbing his fingers onto them. Why is he doing this, you don’t know and you’re too scared to ask him, so you remain as still as stone. His touch does feel pleasant but this is getting wayy too awkward so you sign Louis with your eyes for help.

“Brother you are annoying her.” Louis states. Albert immediately jolts back his hand and straightens his posture. “Sorry. That behaviour was quite unlike me.” He furrows his brows, smiling at the same time.”My name is Albert james Moriarty” You curtsy at his introduction and he bows a little. “Come sit.” He pushes a chair next to his inviting you to sit.

Albert continues to do his work while Louis helps him. And you honestly don’t understand a single word they are saying so you resort to daydreaming for entertainment. About half an hour later even daydreaming gets boring and your start to yawn. “Tired aren’t you?” Albert softly sighs. He looks at Louis. “Don’t worry this is boring for me too.” He leans back on his chair and orders “Louis can you bring the young lady some dessert?” You smile widely when he says that.

Louis runs to the kitchen and bring you a freshly made crepe in almost no time. Of course, you devour it in almost no time. Albert smiles at you, pleasantly surprised that his tactic on feeding you with food worked. But since you ate the food so quickly, some parts of it were splattered on your face.

“You have something on your face Y/n” Albert wipes the food on your face with his hand. He tries to find a handkerchief to wipe it with but you yank his hand to your side and proceed to lick it.

Louis freezes after seeing this. “OH GREAT HEAVENS WHAT ARE YOU DOING Y/N?!”

You look at him for a moment. Then you commence to chew Alberts finger to see how he would react to that. Louis’s head explodes. Albert tries to calm him down, explaining the fact that you were just a child. Louis tries to pull out Albert’s finger from your mouth which results in Albert yelling in pain for his brother to stop, as he felt his finger being torn apart by your teeth. Little did you three know, this entire scene was being spectated by William who just came home.

Naturally, he tries to control his laughter but miserably fails. Now all three of you are looking at him, frozen on the spot. When you three try to explain what was going on, He looses it and starts to roll on the floor (well technically just kneel down and laugh out loud).

Later after calming down, he says “It’s nice to see all three of you getting along like this. Oh Y/n I also got you something.” He takes out a stack of flashcards that seems as if they were cut individually from normal paper since they lacked uniformity in size.

He also handed you two gorgeous fountain pens. One had beautiful carvings with colourful enamel and the other had a silver base with a wooden top body. It’s also nice to see that both of them fit perfectly into your hands.

“I didn’t know what your taste was so I prepared both simple and intricate designs alike.” He replies. “Also the wood used to make the pen was extracted from the bookshelves of the library from the Quinn household.”

So that’s why they looked so similar to you.

“Think of this gift as a welcome gift since you’ve joined the family. I don’t want you to be scared of us or be ashamed that your previous family are criminals, alright? Be comfortable around us, don’t be afraid to tell us your worries and definitely do not be afraid to ask for help. Please treat us as if we are your actual family.” He pats your head.

You nod, smiling at the three brothers. “It’s dinner time now!” James barges into the room startling everyone. “Oh I’m sorry did I interrupt you? I just wanted to ask if dinner was ready.” He explains.

“In fact, yes, I already prepared before I met y/n. Let’s head into the dining room” Everyone walks with Louis towards the dining room.

Huh.

Fitting in with them wasn’t as surprisingly hard as you thought it would be. All the worry in you disappears as you see everyone chatting casually while entering the dining room.

[deepfivetraveller]

Moriarty the patriot x Sick!Child!reader. Chapter 1 (Platonic)

The MI6 could only gather little information about them since they were new to the circle of rich aristocrats.

The Quinn family owned luxurious hotels whose popularity and income just went above the roof, which is surprising since they’ve only been in the industry for a few years. Due to this, they were suspected of smuggling drugs across countries. Only problem was that the military had no evidence. Albert was instructed to check the family out, but since he had to do some preparations on ‘The final problem’ William decided to go instead.

As the carriage stopped, William turned towards the window and saw a large mansion. It had british architecture and was lavishly decorated in the family’s signature colour purple.

 He was greeted by the master and mistress of the family as he exited the carriage. “Welcome Mr Moriarty it’s finally good to meet you.” Richard Quinn says this as he shakes William’s hand a little too vigorously. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too Mr Quinn.” He replies. “Please come in. We have prepared some special Darjeeling tea just for you.” Elisabeth Quinn motions him towards the garden of the estate. After that all three engage in small talk to which William could only pretend to like. Eventually, a topic peaked his interest. “Yes,yes our daughter too has the same habit.”

“Daughter? You both have a daughter?” William sips tea from his cup. “Yes,we just adopted her a few days ago.” She slices her cake with more force than needed creating an unpleasant cling sound. “She is still adapting to her surroundings so we didn’t bring her here.” she continues. William too was once an adopted kid and yes, it does take time to adapt but he started to get a bit suspicious of them.

"Is it possible for me to meet her personally?"

The couple both look at each other after William says this. “Sure. Let me lead you to her.” Richard gets up from his chair and so does William. While walking, Mr Quinn says “Our daughter has a medical condition due to which she cannot talk much, so please don’t force her to talk.” he nodded and kept this point in mind. A mute child is perfect if the parents want to keep a secret from society.

After a few minutes of walking they both enter a grand library.The shelves were made from a wood of dark colour possibly walnut or teak. All the books there were binded by some sort of luxurious leather. After going in a little deeper William sees a small girl sitting on the table copying something from a book. Richard whispers “I’ll introduce you to her and then leave you alone.”

William nods again and both of them come up to you. “Y/n?” Mr Quinn taps on the table. You immediately stop writing and look at both of them. “This is our guest Mr William James Moriarty.” He points at William. “I’m going to leave both of you alone now.”

After Mr Quinn leaves William sits next to you. “Like your father said, My name is William. What’s yours?” He felt a bit guilty making you talk in your condition but for the sake of the mission some things need to be done.

You take a bunch of flash cards connected to a flash card ring. You flip to a page with you name on it and show it to him. Clever. “Y/n. What a lovely name. How are you adjusting to your new life?” He  turns slightly towards you. You immediately flip to an empty card and write ‘It’s going alright.’

He notices this was not a direct reply to his question. Either you don’t have much to say or you were threatened by your parents. Though he does try to eliminate the second option since you are wearing a luxurious dress. Nevertheless he still doubts.

“I see.” He leans onto the table.

“Are you happy with your new life?” He enquires. You write ‘Yes I’m quite content with my life.’ He smiles and then looks at what you were reading. “On the Origin of species…” he reads the title out loud. He also looks at the notes you were writing and sees the key points of the book written neatly.

“You should explore other parts of science as well. Why don’t we try to find  other books on physics and chemistry here?” He gets up and extends his arm. In reply, you hold his hand.

“Can you take me to the science section?” You nod to his question and take him there

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Yes, yes, maybe…no.” William picks a few books and takes them in and out of the shelf. All the books he thought were suitable to read were given to you to hold. “That’s about it.” he turns towards you. “Let’s go back and sit down.” He takes the books from you and carries them.

“Thank you.” This is the first time you spoke to him. He didn’t know what you were thanking for, maybe for holding the books, maybe for helping you select books or maybe for something else. But more importantly he was taken aback by your voice. Your voice did crack a bit due to your lack of talking, but in his ears they were melodious; like  crunchy sweet.

Suddenly the clock chimes, an indication that it is now evening. “Oh my, time went by fast. It seems it’s time for me to go now.” he replies. He kept the books on a small wooden chair but when he was about to leave you grab onto his sleeve. He could see you mouthing ‘Don’t leave’.

“Why?” he questions. You slowly take back your hand from his sleeve and mouth him ‘Sorry’. William kneels down to your level, expecting you to say a reason for your action.

‘The first person to not make fun of me is you.’ he frowns as he looks at your card. “What about your parents?” he inquired. ‘Well they aren’t mean to me but that doesn’t mean that they are kind.’ you’re hesitant to show this card and he can tell.

He tries to calm you down by patting your head and to some extent, it works. “Don’t worry,” he reassured. “I’ll take care of this.”   “But how?” You questioned back. “That…” He gets up and looks at you. “Is my problem. You just relax” He tilts his head as a sign of respect and leaves the room, leaving you a bit confused and dumbfounded.

[deepfivetraveller]

Moriarty the Patriot x Fem!child!reader

I'm a bit new on tumblr and English is not my native language, so please feel to correct me for any mistakes.

· The three brothers visit an orphanage whenever they have the time to. Then one day, they meet you

· They find you quite interesting, especially Albert. You are at that age where you question everything and when you openly start to question about the class system, he felt a pleased and encouraged you to question more.

· William is teaching you Maths and science for now. He knows how women are naturally looked down upon (Especially in the 19th century) so he educates you in the belief that when you grow up you will have better chances in life.

· Louis loves taking care of you and often helps with chores around the orphanage. He loves conversing with you while doing these tasks, and you love spilling tea that occurred in the orphanage while they were not there.

· Like for example, that one time when two of the kids vowed that they will only have each other as their best friends but one of them betrays and gets another friend.

· This grown man was so invested into the story too! Although you don’t seem to realise it since he has a habit keeping a poker face while doing work.

· Sometimes the three brothers will take all of the kids outside to a park and put on a small garden party so that the children can enjoy life like normal kids. The brothers know how hard it is to be an orphan and they want to provide some sort of escapism to you.

· You also have an accent different from theirs since you are a commoner. Honestly, you were quite insecure about it since your way of talking clashes with their refined speech

· The three brothers felt a bit downcast when they found out you felt that way. They don’t mind it at all. But if you really wanted to change it they’ll help you practice by making you read books and correcting your mispronunciations.

· The brothers loved carrying you around even though you know how to walk. It came to a point that the orphanage’s caretakes literally had to yell at then to put you down.

· She tried to explain them that children often forget habits when not practiced constantly and you may forget on how to walk.

· It’s not like the Moriarty brothers stopped carrying you though, they just did it less although William still feels a bit guilty.

· You are their biggest motivation into creating a better world. They want you to thrive in a safe and secure world where you can live happily