#even sebastian moran is hot

[slicedblackolives]

my personal theory of why characters like james bond and indiana jones and batman and the line cook in bear are sexy is that that particular rogue archetype combines working class male attributes of physical violence and manual labour with a bourgeoise genteelness so middle class viewers don't have to deal with the cognitive dissonance of finding male labouring bodies hot but not wanting to fuck poor people

[rosesrflo]

Hi! Sorry for bothering you, I'm new to your account and I don't know if your requests are open. But if they are, can I request Sebastian, William, Sherlock and Louis seeing y/n in lingerie and how would they react? Thank you so much! Have a nice day and take care!!

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　ﾟ。 V　｡ﾟ

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｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 E　｡ﾟ

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(=•ㅅ•=)

(つ♡⊂)∫

U--U

Feats; Sebastian, William, Sherlock, Louis (MTP). Genre; NSFW

Prompt; ❛❛Don’t mind me, just enjoying the view.❞ Warnings; a bit handsy but not smut, painfully long, fem!reader/AFAB

Desc; IN WHICH you showcase some interesting outfits for your partner, if only you knew what you do to them. Don’t worry, they’ll let you know with some intimate explanations.

A/N; Of course, lovely! I enjoyed writing this but a few scenarios are rlly long, and I apologise if some characters are a bit ooc (sorry if it’s too/too less smutty), have a good day/night and enjoy! <3

SEBASTIAN;

This man is thirsty asf

What can he say? Force of habit.

What can he say? Force of habit.

If this is what he’s like on a normal basis, you can imagine what he’s like when things get hot, he cannot believe that you think you can wear an alluring lingerie without him at least touching you.

But he must say, black looks good on you.

So much that Sebastian pounces the moment he lays eyes on your figure, his hands hooked underneath your exposed thighs, lifting you against the nearest wall with a smirk etched upon his face as he presses surprisingly soft kisses against your neck.

You’ve dug a hole for yourself, you’re definitely not getting out of this one and the next few hours will be rough.

A muffled squeal fell from your captured lips, Moran’s hands travelled over your body, the fat of your thighs spilled from his tight grip that held you upright, “Well aren’t you a pretty thing?” His eyes hungrily scanned your expression.

“And all for me..” The skimpy fabric hugged your physique in a way that he didn’t dare look away, you looked down at him through lidded lashes, if you knew this was how he’d react, you would have worn lingerie earlier.

Sebastian lowered you onto the floor although his hands didn’t leave you once and continued his onslaught of hickeys to your bared neck. A heated blush crawled onto your cheeks at the sensation, “Not here-! Someone might see us.”

Your request was blatantly tossed aside as he only pressed on, hands trailing from your thighs to more sensitive parts, “Big talk for someone walking around in that.” He pulled away proudly to observe the darkening marks on your neck; ever shameless, Moran doesn’t give a damn whether anyone catches sight.

Not when you’re all dolled up just for him, in fact, he dares them to look at you.

WILLIAM;

How can he resist you?

Revealing, red silk cupped your features perfectly, it was clear as day that you had no idea what filthy thoughts were racing through William’s head at the moment.

Even though his face doesn’t break its charming facade, his heart beats a little faster than usual, and is that a tint of red on his ears?

Your little showcase was slowly yet effectively testing his patience.

Liam isn’t usually a sexually frustrated person, well that was until you dragged him into your shared bed chambers to rate a few rather seductive outfits.

His crimson irises rake up and down you, admiring how irresistible you appeared, every model pose sent his mind into a blurred frenzy - the feeling of your hands balancing on his shoulders as you leaned in to ask him for his thoughts.

Your body barely grazed his and if you lent in just a little further you’d be touching him, just a little closer and he would..-

The ornamented cup of tea clinked throughout the quiet room as Liam lifted it from its porcelain plate to his parted lips. But of course this all served as a minor distraction, the main focus was you, his gaze was half hazed as the straps slid over your bare body.

He wished to rip it off of you in the very moment.

After an anticipated pause, you shyly stepped forwards, hands cusped behind your back, “What about this one..? I like the coverage but it isn’t red..” Mindless mutters cut him off before he could reply.

“You look ravishing, either way.” You blinked at his double meaning compliment, a sweet smile formed on your lips in thanks. William on the other hand was undressing you imaginatively, you were so pure.

Turning away from him, you loosened the straps holding your outfit together, hues of blush heated your cheeks as you tried to undo the bra straps but ultimately failed, “Ah-Liam could you help me with..-“ Gesturing to your situation.

Liam’s beverage had long since gone cold, placing it onto the plate, he watched you nervously saunter towards him. Your hands clasped onto his shoulders for balance whilst he skillfully unclasped your bra straps, he had done this too many times to count. He swallowed audibly.

The lingerie was only just covering you, unconsciously, he held the small of your back and lightly urged you onto his lap; you gasped as he slid the clothing off of your shoulders, his eyes wandered to your exposed assets.

“May I kiss you, darling?” William’s tone was laced with lust as you steadied yourself.

What came after was certainly more than just a kiss.

SHERLOCK;

It was a stuffy night.

and It wasn’t exactly your intention to dress up for Sherlock, it was just so unbearably warm that you simply couldn’t wear anything else.

Unbeknownst to you, the minute he sees you in such revealing clothing, you’ll be even more hot and stuffed; except this time with his cock.

It was late into the night when Sherly received a bit of a gift as he finally retired to his room. You were a sight to behold say the least - all curled up in his bedroom, dark blue fabric danced hazardously across your body.

Unlike the others, Sherlock doesn’t immediately jump to sexual conclusions, no, he admired you. How lucky was he for catching a divine being like you?

He watched your sleeping figure for a few minutes, his eyes glinted with nothing short of admiration, you were absolutely heavenly, especially in that.

Admirations soon faded into lust.

A huff escaped Sherlock as he quickened his pace towards 221B, the sky was midnight blue and the finished cigarette in his hand didn’t ease any thoughts about you. His breathe hitched upon pacing inside the silent flat, everyone was asleep.

Wasting no more time idly standing around, Sherlock started his way to your shared room; the room air was humid, the largest window was far open and you were snoozing as peaceful as ever.

However, his eyes seemed to linger on your sleeping form, but it wasn’t a surprise - your body seemed almost nude if not for the lingerie, bed covers were strewn everywhere except you and the pale moonlight shon down onto your (s/c) skin.

You tossed in your sleep, sensing another person in the room. Sherly knelt by the bed before gently cupping your face, “Now what do we have here, (n/n)?” The familiar scent of cigars and faint cologne, accompanied with his cockney accent woke you from your slumber.

Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you blinked at Sherlock’s smirking face, “You’re back, Sherly.” He drew a figurative line with his index finger from your neck, between your breasts, “I’m back.”

“What are you wearing at this hour?” You averted your eyes at the query, “Not that I mind.” He lent in to press a kiss to your neck, despite his vague actions - it was quite obvious to you what would occur next.

“Please be gentle, Sherly, ‘m tired.”

LOUIS (SMUT WARNING);

Contrasting this man’s modest appearance, he’s probably the most sexually active excluding Moran.

Not on his own account but because he just can’t keep his hands off of you.

Have you seen yourself? He tries not to think about your body but it affirmatively fails every time you show him one of your revealing outfits.

It makes his mind go brrr, the way it cups your breasts, your thigh high socks don’t help your alibi either, by the time he’s finished with you - you’ll be a mewling mess, bite marks littering your inner thighs.

Yes he’s a biter.

But don’t worry, Louis is an absolute gentleman and awfully good at it, he’ll have you screaming in no time flat.

All that can be said is, good luck.

“I advise you to be quiet, my lady.”

A silent gasp escaped your plush lips as your head fell into the fluffy pillows, Louis’ hands pinned your legs in the air to ensure you didn’t move whilst he worked on your pretty cunt.

Lace, blue garments were pushed aside your left lip, he wanted to devour you in such an outfit that captured your complete charm. Mewls vibrated in your throat, his tongue flickered kitten laps against sensitive nerve bundles.

Despite the situation at hand, a polite smile eased his features once his teeth catch your little bud and you looked just about to pass out, all fucked out. Using one hand to spread your sopping pussy, he pressed two digits into your entrance and he almost came on the spot from how tight you were clenching.

Pushing them in a few more times, you cried out his name as your back near arches off of the bed, “That’s the spot, isn’t it?” Louis leaned in to taste more of your essence, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his lips suckle your swollen clit.

Your legs kick upwards the closer you came to the edge of release, and it wasn’t until then does he realise how hard you were cumming, “Looking so lovely…dressed up in such obscene attire..”

He pulls away breathlessly after you slowly came down from the mind blowing high, your eyes squeezed shut and body trembling. Louis gazed down at the art piece he dubbed you, lightly pecking your forehead, how sinfully gorgeous..

“As you were, my lady.”

[fairy-writes]

Hello!! If requests are still open (if not, please ignore) can I ask for a Louis Moriarty x reader like the Mycroft “regret” one you wrote? Where he says something mean and they get into a fight and it’s dramatic with a fluffy ending? I would appreciate it very much! ♥️

SWEET APOLOGIES

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): Louis James Moriarty x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Angst to Fluff, Arguments, Injuries

Notes: I really hope this is alright! I was second-guessing myself the entire time 😭

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Your name being shouted makes you prick your finger on your sewing needle. You curse and drop the thing onto your current project which happened to be a pair of Moran’s trousers. You were often asked to sew various things, whether that was an injury or socks. You were the Moriarty’s tailor or seamster and makeshift doctor. 

The voice shouts your name again. Moran maybe? But wasn’t he out with Bonde and Louis?

You make it to the top of the stairs and stop dead in your tracks.

Louis hangs limp between Sebastian Moran and James Bonde. Blood drips from his forehead, and he’s clearly unconscious and missing his glasses.

You’re down the stairs in an instant. 

You direct them to the sitting room, where you have them leave Louis while you retrieve your stitching needles and threads, as well as some medical supplies like bandages and whiskey.

Because you know he’s going to need it when he wakes up.

“What happened to him?” You ask as you gently work his suit coat from his shoulders. Moran favors his right side, and you make a mental note to take a look at him after Louis. Bonde has a scratch above his left eye but otherwise looks unharmed.

“We were jumped,” Moran says, voice strained with pain, and if you had to guess, he has a couple of cracked or broken ribs. You end up handing him the bottle of whiskey to which he takes several long swigs. 

Soon enough, you dismiss Moran and Bonde, promising them you’ll look at their injuries later, leaving you and Louis alone in the sitting room. He lets out a pained moan as you agitate his injuries in your attempt to remove his shirt but doesn’t awaken.

It isn’t until you are threading your needle that he stirs. By that time, you had bandaged his lesser wounds and were working on what looked like a knife cut on his collarbone. It’s awkward and long, and you’re fairly certain that his shirt is partially shredded because of it. 

But your rage has started to grow. Tiny and hot like a dying ember, but slowly fed by your worry and panic at seeing him so injured. 

His already darkened maroon eyes are even darker because of the pain. He grits his teeth and tries to sit up but is stopped by you putting a gentle hand on his chest.

“Don’t get up. You’re hurt.” You say quietly, keeping a tight leash on your anger so as to not anger him. 

The last thing you needed was for him to get angry back and start an argument. 

“I’m fine.” He tries, but you glare and show him your bloody fingers where you had been stitching for the last twenty minutes. 

“Clearly you aren’t. So be quiet and let me finish.” You snap, the leash on your temper fraying just the tiniest bit. 

Thankfully, Louis catches your slip and doesn’t say anything. Instead, he bites his tongue and leans back against the couch arm. You’ll likely have to throw the couch out or burn it after you’re done. It’s stained in blood and grime from his injuries.

As soon as you finish the last stitch, Louis is sitting up and pushing your hands away. 

“I promise I’m fine.” He says quickly, and that’s when your patience snaps. 

“What do you mean you’re fine?! THIS IS NOT FINE!” You shout, and he stops where he’s shrugging on his button-down and suit coat. His movements are painfully slow, and it’s clear that he’s suffering. 

But that doesn’t stop his temper from flaring up to meet yours like two bucks charging each other. 

“Can you stop it for a moment?!” He snaps back and yanks on his suit coat, ignoring how it pulls his stitches. You toss the dirty needle back into your bag and feel tears burn in your eyes. 

“You promised me you weren’t going to be reckless! You promised!” You exclaim, and he grits his teeth,

“Well, promises can be broken, so just leave me alone, yeah?” He says, and you flinch back. 

Then, with tears threatening to overflow down your cheeks, you pack up your things and leave with a slam of the sitting room door. It rattles the chandelier above you as you wander the mansion halls in search of Bonde and Moran. 

You find Moran in his chambers, smoking a cigarette and shuffling a deck of cards. 

“Those’ll kill you, y’know.” You say as a way of entrance and he looks up, clearly unimpressed. 

“Then I’ll die doing somethin’ I like.” He retorts, and you roll your eyes, shuffling inside to take a seat across from him. 

“Take your shirt off.” You say curtly, and he huffs out a laugh, 

“At least buy me a drink first.” You look up to the ceiling and pray for patience. Because after Louis, you don’t have any left. 

Did he really want you to leave him alone? 

“I need to see if you broke anything dumbass.” You say eventually, and his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline.

“What’d Louis do t’ you t’ get your knickers in a twist?” He says, clearly picking up on your foul mood. You set your bag down and reach inside for bandages in case he’s bleeding. 

“Nothing. Louis just wants me to leave him alone, is all.” You say and swallow down the lump in your throat. 

If he was so willing to break this promise what others was he going to break?

Thankfully, Moran doesn’t say anything else and instead sheds his shirt so you can take a look at his side. It’s mottled in purples and blues and slightly swollen. You don’t have to touch it to know it’s tender. So, you prescribe him rest and the occasional shot of whiskey to dull the pain. 

“No missions for you for a while. Take it easy, alright?” You instruct and he nods, waving you off as he starts playing a card game with himself.

“Yeah, yeah, go check on Blondie, will ya? He took a pretty good look to the head.” 

You are about to say something when you see Louis hobbling down the hallway, favoring his stitches. He stops, looks at you, scowls, and continues down toward his bedroom. You huff and brush past him toward where you guessed Bonde would be.

Two can play that game. 

The tension between you is palpable by day four of not speaking to each other. Perhaps it was day two, but you didn’t really care to count—not when Louis was still being so touchy.

But it wasn’t long before everyone else came to you, asking you to make things right.

“He’s so mopey! Not at all like himself!” That was Bonde. You grunted to acknowledge his words but didn’t respond past that. 

“He’s got a stick up his ass. You should talk to him.” Moran. At that, you roll your eyes and stab your needle into your embroidery. Perhaps more aggressively than you meant to, but it got your point across. 

“He said he wanted me to leave him alone. So that’s what I’m doing.” You snap, and he relents and doesn’t push the issue anymore. 

Soon, everyone has come to you, complaining about Louis’s sour behavior. And every single time, you turn them away with the same excuse. It isn’t until you stumble upon Louis nursing a clearly infected injury that you relent and talk to him. 

You enter the library to find Louis hunched over himself, taking a long pull from a whiskey bottle as he tries to remove his stitches. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” You snap, hurrying to his side to stop him before stopping yourself. 

The injury on his collarbone is infected—that much is obvious. The wound has an unpleasant odor emanating from it and is red and inflamed. He’s successfully removed a handful of stitches, but a few remain. 

“What does it look like?” Louis retorts and sets down the whiskey bottle. It’s clear he’s in pain, his nose scrunched and his eyes tight. 

Despite your anger, you’re gentle in helping Louis. After some back and forth, he eventually sits back and lets you work. 

Pus oozes from the gash, and you work to clean it out and apply a poultice of your own design to help fight infection. Then, you leave the wound open to breathe. 

“I’ll restitch it later if it starts bleeding again.” You say and begin cleaning up the mess that Louis had made.

He stops you by saying your name oh so softly. You sigh, stop what you’re doing, and look at him. He looks sad. Broken. And hurt. 

“I don’t want to keep fighting.” He says, and you scoff,

“You told me to leave you alone. So I am.” You say and go to leave but he catches your wrist as you stand to leave.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts, and you stop, raising an eyebrow at him, and he continues. 

“It was never my intention to hurt you. I want you to know that. It’s no excuse, but I was in pain and upset that the mission went so badly. But I took it out on you, and I’m sorry.” He finishes, and with each word, you feel your anger dissipating. You lean down and press your mouth to his hairline in a soft kiss. 

“I accept your apology. Thank you, Louis.” You whisper, and he smiles.

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

Characters reacting to their s/o squirting

Fandom:MultiFandom

Pairings: Various Characters x Fem!reader

Genre:Nsfw,smut,comedy

Format:idk what to call it =\

Warnings:NSFW Content

Word Count:163

A/n: since i love these dirty imagines so much,here you go :D

↬Planned it.wanna make you feel like a fucking queen who's his and only his.wants you to know that only he's able to give you this much pleasure,so when your legs start shaking and a huge amount of cum literally flies out of your wet pussy,they smirk and keep rubbing your clit until youre begging them to stop from overstimulation.

Haikyuu:Iwaizumi,Kuroo,Daichi,Sugawara,Tsukishima,Akaashi Bungou Stray Dogs:Dazai(ofc),Fyodor,Ranpo,Mori,Kouyou,Yosano,Nikolai,Jouno,Teccho The Case Study Of Vanitas:Vanitas,Roland Death Note:Light Yagami,Mello,L Lawliet Jujutsu Kaisen:Saturo Gojo,Suguru Geto Moriarty The Patriot:William Moriarty,Albert Moriarty,James Bonde,Sebastian Moran

↬Accidentally makes you squirt.it was unplanned,but you screaming from pleasure and your head falling back just makes them sooo proud of themselves.they wont tell you that tho,just make it look like they did it intentionally and they might even brag about to their friends lmao.

Haikyuu:Oikawa(this is literally him lol),Hinata(imagin him and his proud face),Nishinoya,Tanaka(the only reason these two are not in the next category is because they watch porn and knows what squirting is),Bokuto,Tendou,Kenma,Ushijima (the last two wont tell anyone but yeah) Bungou Stray Dogs:Atsushi(this bitch),Chuuya,Kunikida,Fukuzawa,Tachihara,Tanizaki,Gin,Higuchi,Kaji,Sigma Death Note:Near,Matsuda Jujutsu Kaisen:Yuji Itadori,Megumi Fushiguro Moriarty The Patriot:Louis Moriarty,Sherlock Holmes,John Watson

↬Freaking out.they think they broke you or something and now youre dying (lifes liquid is being sucked out of you lmfao) already on their way to call an ambulance when you tell em that youre fine,and explaine to them what had happened while trying to catch your breath.

Haikyuu:Kageyama(awww this clueless,hot guy),Asahi,Yamaguchi Bungou Stray Dogs:Akutagawa(my poor baby T^T) The Case Study Of Vanitas:Noe

I actually feel bad for myself cause i have to tag so many characters :')just dont freak out when you see the tags lmao-Ash

[pillow-anime-talk]

make out session with albert.

request: hello there! could i maybe request albert moriarty with a male reader getting caught in a make out session by his brothers or moran? it’s alright if it gn reader too tho- if you don’t write x male reader

# tags: scenario; secret current relationship; hot romance; fluff; a bit of comedy; wet kisses; suggestive

includes: male reader ft. albert james moriarty & sebastian moran in the background {kny}

author’s note: sorry, anonnie, that you waited so long :( and ofc, i also write for male readers!

It was a very quiet night; though the sky was dark and full of stars, it was one of the warmer nights of that terrible March. You and Albert were at your favorite cafe that day, like every Friday. Your weekly meetings have become something of a tradition since you started dating. Although at the beginning your relationship was purely friendly and without major obligations, you have been in a full-fledged partnership for three months, not only in a relationship existing out of human curiosity.

Until now, you’ve spent Fridays and Saturdays at your apartment if the opportunity arose, but tonight, due to bad weather, Albert took you to his house, which was much nearer than your small place in the middle of the city.

“Would you like something to eat or drink?” The man asked as soon as you crossed the threshold of the great house (or rather villa) of the Moriarty brothers.

“Well...” You looked at him with a slight smirk as you took off your shoes. “Since you’re asking...” You added cheerfully, hanging your brown coat on the hanger.

“Then I’ll suggest a ham and vegetable sandwich or a cheese and tomato omelette.” He also responded by taking off his outer clothes and shoes, and then together with you he went to the saloon, and next to another, slightly smaller room. “I can also make fried fish or eggs benedict.”

“Omelette sounds very delicious.” You admitted smiling slightly and your partner nodded.

“So go to my bedroom and get some clean clothes, then come back to me. We will eat supper together and drink some hot tea with honey.” He instructed you and you nodded this time. However, before you went to the dark-haired man’s bedroom, you approached him for a short while, snuggling into his rain-scented body and clothes. A few seconds later you looked into each other’s shiny eyes and connected your lips in a light but long kiss.

The tenderness you showed each other very quickly turned into a lustful act; Albert’s hands were on your hips and you wrapped your arms around his warm neck, pulling him even closer to you. You just wanted to get into his skin and feel its pleasant softness and taste. 

The kitchen got warmer, and a drop of saliva ran down your chin. For almost half a minute, you didn’t break even an inch from each other, all the time touching each other’s bodies and faces, as well as hands and hair.

Only after a while (which for you was a pleasant eternity) did you both hear a light cough combined with laughter and you immediately turned to the source of the noise. Your cheeks blushed almost immediately, and your eyes turned to the painting hanging on the wall, showing a woman in a green meadow.

“...It’s okay, I only came for water and an apple.” Sebastian laughed once again as he walked towards the small refrigerator. Albert forgot that both his younger brothers and also Sebastian with Fred were at home for the weekend. “Albert, I didn’t expect this from you, but don’t worry. I’ve had plenty of experience with men too, though not as hot as yours. Remember about the long foreplay so that it doesn’t hurt. Have a nice night, guys.”

After a short monologue of the black-haired man, you both awkwardly scratched your head or chin.

“I’ll just go to the bedroom...”

“... Maybe... Let’s skip our supper. I’ll make us breakfast tomorrow morning...” Your lover whispered and you nodded.

“Good idea.”

[starr-251]

Sebastian Moran has tired dad energy

I honestly can't stop imagining Moran being the tired dad of the Moriarty gang.

Like, not even big things.

Taking Fred shopping for disguise elements like wigs and makeup and helping him organize them and put them on later.

Taking James hot towels and chocolate when he's on his period, and taking his place in missions when he has heavy cramps.

Fetching tea for Moneypenny so she doesn't have to stop working on the paperwork the MI6 desperately needs.

Talking William to sleep after a heavy day so he'll have proper rest and not the three hours of sleep and sixteen cups of tea he normally runs in.

Taking up dinner when Louis is tired so he has a moment to himself to read a book or fill paperwork or just meditate a bit before going back to work.

Staying up all night with Albert gossiping and drinking to ensure his sleep will be heavy and empty, no nightmares on sight.

Just, dad Moran.

It would surprise his 21 year old self to see this.

But I think he really matured during the manga.

He doesn't show it very much, but I think that spending the last days with the Moriarty gang really set him straight.

[discordantwords]

after the storm

In honor of Sherlock's birthday, here's a little glimpse at what happened with our beloved storm chasers after the credits rolled on Whirlwind.

_____

John wakes to the muffled drone of the television. He throws an automatic hand out, finds an expanse of empty bed, long gone cool. 

He sits up. 

Morning sun slants through the windows, casting the cluttered room in golden light. 

The bed is comfortable, and familiar. The warm embrace of home after far too much time spent away. 

He stands, muscles aching, and shuffles his way out of the bedroom, down the hall, and into the living room. Bartholomew is stretched on the couch. He gives a thump of his tail as John enters, but otherwise does not stir. Sherlock is standing by the window, mug of tea steaming in his hands. 

The morning news is on the television. 

John glances at it, looks away. It is his network. The anchors, Janine and David, toss pre-scripted banter back and forth with wide smiles. He knows them well. Any moment now, the morning weather report will come on, and he will not be the one delivering it. 

The relief is staggering. 

"Regrets?" Sherlock asks. 

He smiles, lifts his head to meet Sherlock's steady gaze. "None." 

Sherlock nods slowly, takes a sip of his tea. There is a bandage at his temple, bruises and shallow scratches criss-crossing his skin. John had mapped those marks with his fingertips the night before, marveling at the miracle of Sherlock's heartbeat, the blood pumping in his veins, the soft breaths he continues to draw.

It is twice, now, that the wind has attempted to tear him from the earth. Love has kept him tethered.

"—our very own John Watson—" 

John startles, looks back at the television. His own face is on the screen. He knows the photograph. It is the professional headshot he'd had taken when he first joined the news team. His tie is fixed slightly too tight. His smile is fixed a little too wide.

Sherlock steps up next to him, shoulders just brushing. 

"—and his heroic efforts to warn James Moriarty and the Stormfans crew, all caught on tape seconds before tragedy struck yesterday," Janine's voice is somber as the image cuts away from John's smiling face to grainy, jittery feed from inside Moriarty's SUV. "I must warn you that the footage you're about to see is quite graphic—" 

"Jesus," John says, and looks away. He hears his own voice piped in over the radio, his desperate pleas that went unheeded. Moriarty's mocking dismissal. Sebastian Moran, protesting just a little too late. The terrible screams before the abrupt severance of the feed. 

Sherlock stays at his side, unmoving, unspeaking. 

"As the full scope of yesterday's destruction comes into focus," David says on screen, "we can confirm twenty-three fatalities in Grant County, with further damage in—" 

John shakes his head. His face is hot. He reaches blindly for the remote, switches off the television. 

"That photograph," Sherlock says. 

John lifts his hand, rubs at the back of his neck. "What?" 

"The photograph that Mary chose to air. You weren't happy when it was taken." 

"What?" John says again. He stares hard at the now-dark television screen. Shakes his head to banish the memory of Moriarty's screams. "No. Um. It was taken my first day on set. They used it for— I don't even know. The website. Press releases. My ID badge. That sort of thing." 

"You weren't happy." 

"No," John says. "I wasn't." 

He hadn't been happy. He'd been resigned, and determined, but not happy. 

"They gave you a gracious sendoff at the start of the hour," Sherlock says. "You were still asleep." 

"They—" John shakes his head again, feeling hopelessly behind. "Really?" 

"Said that your weather reports would be deeply missed, but that in light of yesterday's events you'd elected to return to the field in an effort to prevent such tragedies from occurring in the future. There was even a little montage of your most memorable moments in the studio." 

"Oh," John says, surprised. "Mary would have had to approve that. That was—nice. Of her." 

"No," Sherlock says, but there is a glint of mirth in his eyes. "Not nice. Smart. You were a member of her staff. Well-liked by viewers. Abrupt departures often evoke scandal. Positioning you as a noble hero sacrificing his comfortable career for the greater good paints the network in a better light."  

"Ah," John says, smiling in spite of himself. He looks down at the ground. "That makes a lot more sense."

"She may have been being nice as well," Sherlock says, after a moment. He sounds slightly unsure.

"Maybe," John concedes.

They stand regarding each other for a moment. 

"I spoke with Mrs Hudson," Sherlock says, finally.

"She's all right?" 

"She will be. Mycroft has offered her a place to stay until her house can be rebuilt. From what she tells me, he campaigned vigorously for the move to be permanent, but she has no intentions of leaving." 

"Glad to hear it," John says. "Hard to imagine Wakita without her." 

Sherlock hums in agreement. "Oklahoma would fall." 

Bartholomew stands up, stretches. He hops down off the couch, nudges at John's fingers with a cold nose. 

"Unfortunately, Mycroft seems to have developed an allergy, so we'll need to keep Bart until construction is done." Sherlock heaves a heavy sigh that does not fool John in the slightest. 

"I think we can manage that," John says, scratching behind a silken red ear. There is a warmth in his chest, spreading, threatening to spill out of him. 

"We should go," Sherlock says. "Lots to do. You're moving back in. You need clothes. And we need a new truck." 

"My truck was new," John grumbles without much heat.

"We're due at the lab by noon," Sherlock adds. 

"Lots of data to go through," John agrees. There is a little thrum of excitement at the thought. 

"It'll be good to have you back. I—" Sherlock says, and trails off.

John looks up. Sherlock's expression is soft, considering. There is a little furrow between his brows. 

"—missed you," Sherlock says. 

John lifts his hand, traces gentle fingertips over Sherlock's bruised face. Sherlock's breath hitches, ever so slightly. His eyes flutter shut. 

"Noon, yeah?" John says, puts just a hint of suggestion in his voice. 

Sherlock smiles, a slow, languid thing. He does not open his eyes. "Yes. Well. I suppose we can be flexible on the timing." 

"Just the timing?" John presses, leaning in close, inhaling Sherlock's warm, familiar scent. 

"And—other things—" Sherlock amends, capturing John's mouth in a kiss.

"Hey, Sherlock?" John says, pulling back ever so slightly. 

"Hm?" Sherlock huffs a shaky breath against John's lips. 

John rolls his forehead against Sherlock's, takes a steadying breath. There are so many things he wants to say, so many things he needs to say. But he will start here, with a memory and a promise: "I'm going to love you forever."

Sherlock opens his eyes. His grin is sunshine parting through the clouds.

[envihellbender]

Fatbrain \o/

Characters: Sebastian Moran, Jim Moriarty

Content: extreme weight gain, fat fetish, feedee/feeder, bullshit science, brief ableism

—

Sebastian was a lot more worried about this than Jim was. Where as he was whistling and huffing impatiently, Sebastian was sat perched between the two breasts that were easily both bigger than his entire body respectively and he nervously picked at the adipose beneath him. His catlike eyes were fixated on the doctor who was stood on the electric scissor lift who was using the bariatric needle that was pressed into Jim’s temples. Sebastian was almost daring him to make a mistake so he could rip him to pieces. Thankfully, despite the doctor’s obvious nerves, Jim continued smirking and staring at Sebastian the whole, showing his mind can’t have been compromised. Jim took a deep breath and blinked, Sebastian felt his limbs tense as he saw Jim’s wince and screwing his fat face into a mass of rippled adipose.

“Jimmy?” Sebastian said, panic rising in his voice. He dove forward, with one hand on Jim’s plump cheek. After a moment he felt Jim’s fat laden muscles relax, his dark eyes flutter open, and his bloated lips began to smile. Sebastian relaxed and then saw it, Jim’s cranium was starting to swell. The pale skin was growing, the veins becoming prominent and enlarged, as the adipose began to grow over his ears. Jim winced once or twice more, his breathing growing heavy, but his smile never faltered. After a few minutes, the growth steadied, no longer visible, but hopefully expanding at the rate of the rest of his body. Sebastian was still hovering over Jim’s face, knees perched on his chest. His green eyes widened and stared in awe.

“Holy shit,” Sebastian gasped, reaching out and pressing his hand into Jim’s temple. “Holy shit, Jimmy. It’s working.”

“Mhm, did you doubt me, tiger?” Jim teased, his voice a low wheezing hum, it had deepened slowly as the fat on his chest grew heavier. Meaning what had been a distinctive lilt was now a unique wheezing.

“Kinda.” Sebastian gave a disbelieving laugh and fell back onto his feet, his hand still on Jim’s temple. “I mean, sounded pretty insane.” He paused for a moment before continuing, his eyes fixating on the stretching skin and a warmth growing between his legs. “How d’you know it’s actually going to improve and increase intelligence? All that fat just might be making your brain all weak or summat.”

“Move your fingers down towards my ear, Seb.”

“Uh-huh.” Sebastian reluctantly followed instructions, feeling the hot wet sweat behind his ear and the fat roll of his cranium. It was different to the rest of his fat, it wasn’t as soft nor did it move in the same way.

“You feel that? That pulsing underneath my skin?” Jim’s voice was softer now, he licked his lips, and enjoyed feeling the warm touch against his sensitive new growth.

“Yeah…” Sebastian’s voice trailed off, he swore the flesh beneath his fingers was almost breathing like his chest.

“That’s not fat. That’s my brain. The feed is mixed with protein and muscle tissue, as well as many other chemicals, my brain is getting fat with power rather than traditional body fat.” As Jim explained it, Sebastian understood instantly. It made sense, that was why it felt so different and why it quivered and tensed. It was almost like a muscle that was being adjusted to grow like fat.

“Shit,” Sebastian said simply.

“If it was actually effecting me negatively it would have done already. I wouldn’t be speaking to you.”

“S’true. You’d be a big fat drooling vegetable. But don’t worry, I’d still take care of you.”

“Yeah? Have yourself a nice brainless sex doll?” Jim teased.

“Ew, gross. I’d make sure-” Sebastian’s stopped suddenly as he noticed something odd. He reached up and stroked Jim’s cranium. “Jimmy. Are you aware your head is breathing?” At that Jim’s eyes widened and a grin expanded across his bloated face.

“That is even better than I had hoped, Seb,” he said quietly, his mind already thinking of where they could go from here. It managed to function faster and cleaner now, obviously he was already the smartest man in London, now he could run circles around any Holmes who came up against him. Or at least make it even more fun.

[sgterso]

@gunbash : sneaks a kiss to her cheek... just because :)

it's unusual that jyn feels so at peace in the presence of another but lately it seems to be happening around sebastian more and more. due to her general ineptitude in the kitchen ( and how she'd managed to shock sebastian into stunned silence when she'd told him she occasionally skips meals in favor of a protein bar ), she's relegated herself to cleaning duty, ignoring all of his protests to sit back and relax while he does all the work. with ruthless efficiency, she scrubs at the counter with a wet rag. by the time sebastian comes up behind her, slow enough that she sees him and doesn't move away, she's almost finished.

from behind, he wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her cheek. she leans back into his embrace, eyes closing for a few seconds as she basks in the warmth of his proximity. but she's never been one to let a nice moment linger. she schools her face into it’s usual neutral expression, with the exception of her reddening cheeks, face hot and flushed. she squirms away from him, flicking the rag so it snaps lightly across his chest. " you're distracting me, " she informs him, trying to be serious despite the smile tugging up at her lips. eventually, she reaches a point where she doesn't even try to hide it. " i take my cleaning job very seriously, sebastian moran. "

[cuddlytogas]

8 shows to get to know me better

tagged by @bookshelfdreams (thank you!) uh...... nearly two weeks ago, which is actually less than i thought! >.> so, not just shows i like, but shows that encapsulate my personality... hmm... let's see.....

okay i mean obviously we've gotta start with Our Flag Means Death. period piece (and EARLY C18th, that's less common than i'd like!), mundane comedy, pirates, queer as hell, lots of body and accent diversity (accent diversity!!! in a period piece!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)... if it was just a bit more accurate about boats, it'd just be my brain on the screen XD

I'm putting Elementary on here, because it's definitely in the top three Sherlock Holmes adaptations, and you can't understand me without understanding my preoccupation with early detective fiction and queer history and adaptation analysis. but Elementary specifically has Lucy Liu and a Sebastian Moran plot, which are also dear to my heart :)

Stellar Firma. weird british improv. sci-fi comedy that if you think about it too long turns sharply into existential horror. anarchist anti-capitalism. an interesting and complicated sentient computer. also i love everything Tim Meredith does, so, jot that down

on the note of sci-fi comedy that's secretly existential horror: Red Dwarf, maybe? even when it's bad, it makes for a FASCINATING encapsulation of, like, the inevitable entropy of the classic sitcom format, or late 80s/early 90s homophobia, and god knows I love to over-analyse that shit

John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme. not JUST season 9, although season 9 is also Everything To Me (queer characters! ACE CHARACTER?? complicated but generally very sweet family dynamics!! interesting format and structure!! lawry lewin is there!), but the whole show is just whimsical and silly and full of puns and historical jokes and... it's just so fucking refreshing, and Finnemore's such a good writer it makes me angry

Good Omens s1 is actually an extremely good encapsulation of my existential outlook (through the lens of christianity rather than atheism, but like... well, yeah). also: those bitches gay, and indulging in earthly delights like oysters and sushi and old books is Very Important

I really liked bookshelf's idea of putting in something you hate (and Vikings was an excellent fucking choice there), so it's gotta be Sherlock. what a wild disappointment that show was, for so very many reasons, all encapsulated by the hbomb video essay <3

Hornblower. what can I say? I watched it way too young and imprinted on the boats and learned a lot about personal and political structures in closed societies. also, Ioan Gruffudd and Paul McGann are hot.

there's probably something huge I'm forgetting about, but oh well, it's a sunday, i'm allowed to slack off XD

not tagging anyone because I'm lazy, so consider this your excuse if you want one! <3

[gunsandheels]

@anakinsstuff

Amelia had been missing for near three days by now, she'd been taken from 221b Baker Street who the police assumed Sebastian Moran. Why? They weren't entirely sure. Her father, the famous consulting detective Sherlock Holmes, was now on the case with Scotland Yard as well as Doctor John Watson. Sherlock had managed to figure out the puzzle left at the scene, on the location of Amelia which he had discovered was along Whitechapel.

The cars drove with full force, sirens blaring, to the location. The armed forces rushed in making sure it was clear and safe before allowing anyone inside. They gave the green light and there quite clear in view, Amelia was hanging from what looked like a meat hook wedged into her shoulder. She had various other cuts, bruises and injuries upon her body though the hook was the main damage. Hazel eyes opened, she felt cold, going in and out of consciousness. How she was still breathing was a miracle in itself, one thing was certain she needed to be off that hook.

Blurred vision saw the outline of who she knew was Henry and a faint smile formed across her features. She couldn't even move her hand out towards him, just suspended in the air ".. Hey, stranger" She stated in barely a whisper. Doctor Watson looked toward the young Holmes, "Amelia, we are going to have to get you off this hook alright?" John warned, "Detective I need you to take her by the legs and lift her weight off this hook so I can get it out of her" The hook had been wedged right into the other side of her, showing the end of the metal where her shoulder blade was. Though the young Holmes was beginning to fade in and out again "No, no, no. Amelia, I need you to keep your eyes open, I need you to try and stay awake for me" John tried to hide the panic in his tone.. The pain that went through her body was like a red hot fire.

[unbridledbrainrots]

Fortuitous: second and end

Rating: Mature Length: ~1k words Genre: Modern!AU, slice of (married) life, (mild) smut Pairing: Sebastian Moran (from Moriarty The Patriot)  x  OC (named Marjorie Reiss) Notes: Continuation of the first part, foodplay towards the end, also this is my first time writing something smutty smutty /srs, may contain inaccuracies, quick proofread so sorry for some errors!

“We’re home!”

A soft chunk of void welcomed the couple. “Kyaah~! Did you wait for us, Jiji?” Marjorie knelt down and gently scratched his chin. And out of sudden, Sebastian delicately scratched her head, “shower first, Gremlin.”

“Unless you make osmanthus tea.”

“Deal.”

She rose and went for a shower. He sneered as he smelt his fingers that touched her head. It’ll be an hour at the minimum, he thought. An hour was sufficient for feeding their cats, showering, shaving, brewing tea, and looking for any candle left in the kitchen drawer. Even he could finish it all in half an hour. But why did he need candles?  

―――――

A lavender bathrobe wrapped around her damp body. The hair towel was worn like a nun’s veil. Those slippers squeaked a bit as she strutted her way to the dining room. There, she was stunned by the table setting. It was simple yet neat. The red velvet cake from the pastel pink box was on the right side. The frosting was slightly off, perhaps from her tight grip on her way to the station. Four birthday candles adorned the cake as if it was a substitute for cherries. The plates, cups, and cutlery were on each side like the wings. And the big cat was seen near the sink, cutting the roses’ stems. 

“You don’t have to arrange it this nice, Bash,” she pulled the chair and calmly sat down. 

“And,” she chortled while taking off her hair towel, “what’s with the candles? Nobody in this house was born on this day.”

“Why not?” He put the vase filled with roses in the middle of the table before he sat next to her.

She lit the candles, “shall we sing too?”

“You said none of us celebrate birthdays today. So let’s just make a wish.”

“Alright,” she intertwined her hands and closed her eyes. He followed her soon after.

They blew the candles together. 

“Oh, I almost forgot your tea,” he got up to fetch the kettle.

Immediately, she removed the candles and scooped a big bite to her mouth.

“Starving much?” He poured the hot tea into the cups. 

She only nodded, still relishing herself over a medium treat. Then she sipped the tea slowly to let her throat warm up. There was a few seconds pause before she took another bite.  

But his focus shifted from his slice to her lips. Traces of the cream cheese frosting were all over that plumpy flesh. Now, it was a battle between him and her tongue.

Unfortunately, her tongue was quicker than his senses. She licked clean that sweet cream from her lips. Ahm-m! A spoonful of cake went to her mouth again. Still, a messy gourmand like Marjorie would never eat spotlessly. 

This time, Sebastian won over her. By the time her mouth opened slightly, he leaned on and managed to seize it. However, she didn’t resist that sudden attack at all. She allowed him to press his lips onto hers, softly sucking the leftover cream on her lips. Her blood rushed to her head although all her nerves went numb. It was an equilibrium between saccharine and tobacco. It should be a perfect mix of fuel for them. 

As he tried tilting his head to deepen the kiss, she tugged at his hair. He slowly released the kiss with a look of pain and confusion. 

“Marje?” He furrowed his brows. That pair of dark jade stared at her. 

“It’s corny,” she sneered in a muffled tone. 

“Huh?”

“It’s co-” his finger was faster than her mouth. The sweet frosting was smeared on her lips. And his bittersweet lips caught it again. It was deeper than the first time. Even their noses were pressed onto each other’s skin. Even until her glasses were shoved closer to her eyes.

He drew her chair towards him; but unexpectedly, when he moved the chair for a centimeter, she pushed him and straddled his lap. He was absolutely taken aback by her reaction. And now they were facing each other. 

She took off her glasses then flaunted it at him, “my… can’t you see that?” The lenses were clouded with her sebum and scratches of water from his damp hair. 

Irritated like a true bespectacled, she swiftly tossed her glasses to the table and grabbed a handful of cake. Then, she spread that lump on his lips as if to shut him first before he apologised. But she didn’t stop there. She trailed her greasy hand to his cheek, sensually down to his neck, to his bare hunky chest underneath the loosened white bathrobe…

He clasped her wrist in a flash and scoffed, “not that fast, Little Slut.”

The temperature surrounding them escalated like the summer sun had risen. Their eyes were full of lust yet both of them hesitated to assert dominance. They had a war in their own minds whether they should step up first or stay, to which it was ironic since making love wasn’t a new thing for them. 

But Marjorie and Sebastian tended to mirror each other. Or, in this time, their hormones were in charge? They moved their heads recklessly that instead of exchanging an erotic and passionate kiss, they accidentally bumped their teeth onto each other. 

She buried her face on the crook of his neck and whimpered. He sighed while rubbing his forefinger on his upper lips, trying to soothe the pain. Then, a chuckle followed simultaneously before it grew to a guffaw. 

“But, Marje,” he said while holding his laughter.

“Hm?”

“I think we should.”

“We…” she wrinkled her brows. Her ebony brown irises wandered around. Her lower lips protruded into a pout. Her mind attempted to decipher his words, “...should?”

His brawny arm picked her up as he rose from the chair. Meanwhile, his other hand took the remaining cake. 

“I bet you didn’t realise that you’d been sitting on my cigar, Mrs. Reiss.”

And thus, the two cats headed to their nest. 

[jeninependleton]

I N T R O D U C T I O N

Hi. My name is Jenine! That's my second name, but I liked it better than the first. Pendleton isn't my real surname, though. Just some sort of pen name.. or something similar to that.

Anyway, here's a few things about me in case anyone's interested :D

English is not my first language, so I apologise if I ever make grammatical errors in the future.

I'm from the Philippines. And yes, even it is scorching hot here every summer, we still keep on drinking coffee lol.

I'm enjoy Taylor Swift's songs. (Stream TTPD)

I'M A HUGE CAT LOVER. I don't care about the breed or the colour, a cat is a cat. And I love cats.

I love playing rhythm games. I'm not good, but not bad either. I play OSU and Deemo. I used to play Cytus, too.

My favourite colour would pe purple. I don't know why I liked that in the first place, though.

My hobbies are reading books, writing my stories and listening to music.

I love learning things but I don't fancy studying that much. Though, I'd love to listen to Science class if the lesson is about the universe and celestial bodies.

I'm planning on pursuing a law degree because I want to be a prosecutor.. but since I need a pre-law course, I might also take criminology or forensc science. I also want to be a detective, afterall. But then again, it depends. If I am not granted the opportunity, then I might switch to Journalism.

My interests would be Sherlock Holmes, Moriarty the Patriot, Project LOKI.. alright in short, mystery. Something about solving cases makes me thrilled for some reason. I actually want to see a real crime scene, too. (Don't wory, I'm not a psychopath) Oh and greek mythology and history interests me too!

I've been obsessed with Sherlock lately— no, John, to be exact. He looks so adorable, alright. (Also, Johnlock is canon. claim it.)

Oh anyway.. my favourite fictional characters would be Sebastian Moran (MTP), John Hamish Watson (MTP and Sherlock) and Sherlock Holmes! (MTP and Sherlock)

Uhm.. I think that's all? I might post some vents or rants here, it depends. Maybe I'll post what happened with my love life later lol.. (it's too dramatic not to share)

[kenjacku]

.

[dream-a-little-longer-1]

I wont ever fear the cold,not with your arms around me :

Merry Christmas everyone!!!enjoy your holidays with your husbands ;)

(For the characters that get the most requests.)

✧*.｡*♡✧*.｡*♡✧*.｡*♡✧*.｡*♡✧*.｡*♡✧*.｡*♡

Albert

•as the pure white snow covers the ground

•the silence makes everything more peaceful

•the faint candle lights,light up the hallways and the living room

•casting the shadows of two figures on the wall

•the music is soft,slow

•as Albert's hand rests on your waist

•the other taking hold of yours in a tight,but gentle grip

•you two sway together,your bodies so close

•as if you were trying to become one

•you laugh freely as Albert dips you down slightly,your free hand coming up to grab him behind the neck instead of his shoulder

•Your husband lets out a chuckle,and brings you back up, bending his head slowly,a silent invitation

•when you look up at his emerald green eyes, shining so so lovingly under the faint light

•you cant help but to fall in love all over again

•and when his lips meet yours

•you feel like you've finally come home

William

•you take a deep breath of the cold air

•almost freezing your lungs in progress,but you dont regret it, not even a bit

•not when it brings you the feel of freedom and happiness

•and now when you feel like you're finally breathing for real

•there's a kind hand in yours, warming you gloveless fingers

•as the free one tightens the scarf around your lower face

•you giggle when William's fingers brush agaisnt your red nose

•and when your husband brings your hands up to his lips to blow on them

•to warm them

•you cant help but to sigh in happiness

•tugging William down gently,and locking your eyes with his single red one

•as you smile and lean forward

•to capture William's lips with your

•his lips are cold,but so is yours

•but when you feel his arms snake around your waist,

•you've never felt warmer before

James Bond

•the Cafe is warm as you finish your food

•People are laughing and chatting excitedly all around you,

•the whole place is colored with different kinds of lights, celebrating the new year

•there's a hand on your shoulder as you get up

•and James holds your hair for you as you slip into your winter coat

•wrapping your scarf around your neck

•and pecking you softly on the forehead

•when you exit the restaurant,the cold weather hits you straight in the face

•but when a strong arm wraps itself around your waist,

•and pulls you closer to your husband's warm body

•you stop shivering

•you look up,at James's sky blue eyes

•there's a playful smirk on his face as he points up,to the doorway of the place you'd just came out from

•and upon seeing the small mistletoe,you roll your eyes

•but lean in to meet James's sweet lips halfway

•and if they taste like hot chocolate and sweets

•you definitely have nothing to complain about

Sherlock

•the sound of the music fills the cozy small apartment

•and you feel so warm,at home with the thick and soft blankets wrapped around you

•staring at the man of your dreams,with his eyes closed

•his eyebrows slightly pulled together in concentration

•Sherlock opens his eyes as he reaches the end of his performance

•his lips immediately curling up in a sideway smirk as you start clapping for him

•you watch as your husband puts aside his violin,and walks up toward you

•he flops himself down next to you

•and when you immediately wrap the other side of your blanket around him, afraid of him being cold

•Sherlock curls around you like a big cat

•sighing softly as he nuzzles your hair, inhaling your scent

•there's a soft kiss on the crown of your hair

•and when long,gentle fingers raise your chin

•to be met with a pair of warm lips

•you know you'll never be alone or cold

•not with Sherlock's arms around you to keep you company

Sebastian Moran

•the snow falls down all around you

•slowly,but surely sitting on your hair and lashes

•there's a huff of laughter beside you,as gentle hands ruffle your hair to get rid of the snow

•you squeak your husband's name, batting Sebastian's hand away and covering your head with a slight pout

•but when Sebastian only laughs and starts to walk away,a devilish idea comes to your mind

•you try to act casual, walking as quiet as you can as you sneak behind your husband's back

•Sebastian has no time to react,or merely has lets his guards down when he's with you when you suddenly rush foward

•and jump up on your husband's back

•and try not to melt when Sebastian immediately hugs you around your legs,to keep you up

•but you should get your revenge,as you start ruffling his unruly hair

•laughing loudly when he screams

•and when you lean down,kissing his high cheekbone

•he turns his head to a silent invitation,the angle slightly uncomfortable but he doesnt seem to mind

•not when you giggle against his lips,tasting of candy,and home

[pillow-anime-talk]

kidnapped!s/o.

request: hola,, can I request the the moriarty brothers (+moran) with a kidnapped reader? what would they do? and what would they do if the reader is still skittish and traumatized (idk torture or something maybe) when they are returned? bonus points if they try to hide it because they don’t want their boi to worry?

# tags: headcanons; kidnapping!au; current relationships; romance; angst; drama; trauma; supportive boyfriends; sfw? idk

includes: gender neutral reader ft. william james moriarty, louis james moriarty, albert james moriarty & sebastian moran {mtp}

author’s note: hola! thank you for your request as always!

— WILLIAM

↘ It was predictable that sooner or later you would get hurt; even if you didn’t take an active part in the actions organized by William, his brothers and friends, somehow someone found out about your existence and decided to take advantage of it.

↘ You were a gullible person who wanted to help others and this was what was disastrous for you one Saturday night. 

↘ You just saw a huge paper, gray box and the first thing you thought was an abandoned puppy or a small cat, but when you opened the box there was nothing suspicious inside, just a plain, old and dirty cloth. So you got up and after that you felt something soft but wet touches your nose and also your waist, and a moment later you fell asleep. You only woke up after a few hours in a place that was strange to you.

↘ The news of your disappearance, or rather kidnapping, spread quickly around the city, and William immediately started your search, which turned out to be easier than it might have seemed. After all, no one could beat him in a game that he became master long ago.

↘ I will skip the details of what your boyfriend did to the two kidnappers, but I must admit that it was very unpleasant and loud, as befits to a blonde-haired man.

↘ Knowing that recent moments have been truly traumatic for you, William has provided you with a lot of mental support; conversations lasting many hours, slowly getting used to the other person’s touch, spending time together in the living room, in a calm, more and more comfortable silence. Your loved one has provided you with everything you need, from new books to the warmest and largest blanket he could buy.

↘ William is a lover who will put your welfare above all else, so expect a huge amount of support and reassurance that it wasn’t your fault.

— LOUIS

↘ Unlike his brother, he wouldn’t know what to do at first; he didn’t expect it, especially since he never told anyone about you except his siblings, Sebastian and Fred.

↘ He would think about his mistakes and his previous decisions that were increasingly tearing his mind and heart apart.

↘ But he also understood the seriousness of the situation and at first he did everything on his own, but the longer you were away from home, the more he was inclined to ask his two brothers for some help. Of course, they were very happy to give it to him, not only because of their kinship, but also because you were someone extremely precious to all of them.

↘ Getting your person back was stressful for everyone, but when it was successful and your torturers got their due judgments, things slowly returned to normal.

↘ At least that’s what people around you two thought.

↘ If it weren’t for a good reading of human nature, Louis wouldn’t noticed how your gaze ran away from your interlocutor and how your body trembled every time someone touched your arm or hand.

↘ Of course, the blonde asked you if everything was alright, and you said that he didn’t have to worry about anything; but of course it was a lie that your loved one noticed right away.

↘ An honest conversation over your favorite, hot drink and snacks would therefore be a priority. It was a long night full of confessions, but thanks to this you definitely felt better and closer to each other than ever before.

↘ It was also the first time in several long days that you hugged your lover, and he couldn’t be more proud of you than at that moment.

— ALBERT

↘ In the beginning, just like Louis, he would be lost, but he would ask his two younger brothers for help much faster; he simply wouldn’t be able to think about anything, much less to find your terrified person, and he was well aware of it.

↘ Fortunately William had a more logical mind at that time, so he considered many options; one of them had to be correct.

↘ He would feel most guilty of all that this situation had happened, even if it wasn’t logically his fault.

↘ But when you come home, safe and sound, conversations with him will be just as calm and full of understanding as with his two blonde brothers. Unlike them, however, brown-haired will also offer the help of a doctor or therapist, as he’ll know that he alone may not be enough to calm your nerves, sleep problems or panic attacks.

↘ Thanks to this, you will get rid of your anxiety much faster than with anyone else, and you will also see that Albert really cares about you.

↘ However, if your muscles or face ever stiffen again, and Albert notices this, he will definitely have another small talk with you; perhaps while walking in the garden or while playing with an animal, to both calm your mind and relax your body.

↘ Albert will definitely study many books on this topic in order to learn about more human responses and stimuli in the future.

— SEBASTIAN

↘ He worked alone from the beginning, because he didn’t want to expose more people to any harm. Anyway, he preferred to deal with his affairs personally and also personally pass judgment on the people who hurt you.

↘ Since you were the first person he took seriously in his life, he would be terrified and would probably act on impulse. 

↘ This time, however, this behavior helped him get rid of your kidnappers quickly and retrieve your scared person in the process, so he was happy.

↘ Here, however, a difficult time would begin for him, because it was hard for him to help a person so wounded by fate; talking, ensuring that he will never leave you and preparing a cup of warm drink would not be a problem for him, but if he sees you cry again, you cannot sleep or you are afraid of being touched by someone...

↘ What should he do in this case?

↘ This time he had to ask for even the smallest help.

↘ Fortunately, you had good contact with Fred, who turned out to be a great psychological support for the two of you; Fred, unlike Sebastian, approached everything with his mind, which is why he became your little private therapist for a certain period of your life.

↘ Sebastian was really glad that he had such a friend.

↘ Also, the two men would talk for a long time in private so that the elder could learn the correct tone and questions that he could ask you so that you wouldn’t feel overwhelmed or verbally attacked.

↘ It was definitely a hard period in your relationship, but it wasn’t something that would destroy it. On the contrary, as soon as you felt better, you had the feeling that your love also grew stronger and more trusting.