#james moriarty x you

[moriartsy]

beyond gilded chains

pairing: jim moriarty x fem!reader

warnings: toxic parents, anxiety attack, sexual tension

summary: what is the lesser of two evils? your father and his world of elites he wants to trap you in? or the overt yet unspoken reality of moriarty's darkness?

w/c: 1.7K

a/n: okay, i know this is kind of cliché, but i have an idea for a jim moriarty story and i have to warm up before i get into it. so i wrote this. i plan on writing a second part and possibly making it a series of oneshots / drabbles. but we'll see how it goes...you can send in requests if you want (and if there are any moriarty enthusiasts still)! thank you for reading !! <3

The grand ballroom of the opulent Ravenscroft Hall shimmered with a golden hue as crystal chandeliers bathed the room in a soft, ambient glow. A symphony of murmurs filled the air, blending seamlessly with the soothing melodies of a string quartet playing in the background. Lavish floral arrangements adorned each table, their fragrances intermingling with the scent of expensive perfumes a polished mahogany.

You stood at the periphery of the extravagant scene, your eyes wandering over the sea of elegantly dressed attendees, each adorned in designer gowns and tailored suits. You fidgeted with the hem of your own exquisite dress, a creation of silk and lace that clung to your figure with the same precision as the couturier's careful stitching.

Despite the expensive fabric enveloping your body, your mood was in a poor state. Honestly, you’d rather be at home, rewatching The Office for the millionth time, but your parents will never let you not attend these events. It's like a chore.

Your parents were proponents of social grace and high society and they had meticulously trained you to navigate such events with poise, concealing any trace of your true feelings beneath a veneer of practiced smiles and genteel conversation.

You sighed.

Suddenly, you felt a new presence at your side. Following the sound of slow footsteps, you found one of your father's associates wearing a smirk that mirrored the self-assured glint in his eyes, sauntering towards you with his hand in the pocket of his dark pants as the other held the fragile flute, a fizzy liquid swirling inside.

"I can see attending these social shindigs brings you such a genuine pleasure. A sheer joy is just radiating from your every pore.“ he said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

You forced a tight smile. "That would be an understatement, Moriarty."

You took a sip of your Dom Pérignon, the liquid gold sliding down your throat as Jim chuckled, unfazed by your icy demeanor.

"Is there something you want, Moriarty, or are you just here to grace me with your charming company?"

Moriarty grinned, "I'm just marveling at the spectacle, my dear. Your enthusiasm is truly contagious."

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, "If that's all, then kindly go and marvel elsewhere. Go strangle someone just because they looked at you the wrong way."

Moriarty feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart as his lips formed an 'O' and his brown eyes widened.

"Oh, (Y/N), don't be like that. I thought we were bonding over our shared love for wealth and excess this boring bunch put on display oh so exquisitely," he said as his hand, still occupied by the glass, swept over the room before facing you again with a knowing smile. "But just so you know. I just did." He added with mischief.

You honestly didn't know if he was joking just to entertain you or maybe intimidate you. Moriarty was capable of bringing all of those people to their knees right in that instance. Including you.

"Do you really want my father to come after you that much? He won't stand for anyone bothering his precious daughter, you know," you sassed with an ironic smile, bluffing your way through.

"Ah, the protective father card, awfully clever.“ He murmured, his eyebrows knitted together before his expression became serious again as he leaned in. His scent invaded your nostrils as you fought to maintain your composure. "But you and I both know, (Y/N), your dear father is at my beck and call. He wouldn't dare lift a finger against me, no matter how many threats you throw around."

You held his gaze, but as much as you tried to hide the signs of the turmoil he stirred within you, you cou+ldn’t help but grind your teeth together. You knew there was no point in attempting to deceive him. He was remarkably good at reading people and you couldn’t be more of an open book to him.

His eyes fell to your lips just for a millisecond before they bored into yours once again.

Suddenly, a clink of the glasses between your bodies made you jump and he smirked at that.

"Cheers," he said with his psychotically soft voice, taking a sip of his drink. With that, Jim turned around a walked away, disappearing into the sea of the richest.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He seems to always find you at these events, making your blood boil every time.

Your solitude was short-lived, though, because soon enough, your father appeared at your side. He observed you with a scrutinizing gaze.

"(Y/N), my dear, what was that all about? What did that spider want?"

Always adept at concealing the complexities of your emotions, you responded with a nonchalant smile.

"Oh, nothing. Just a brief exchange of pleasantries."

He probed further. "Pleasantries? You seemed rather tense. Did he say anything about me? Any threats, perhaps?“

Your father was a man driven by self-interest and the desire to maintain his social standing. Moriarty was right, your father would be willing to sell you in pieces if it meant saving his own ass.

You shook your head, your expression composed. "No, Dad, nothing like that. Just some small talk."

Satisfied but still slightly suspicious, your father linked his arm with yours. "Well, let's not dwell on such matters. We're here to enjoy the evening, aren't we?"

He guided you through the lavish crowd, engaging you in conversations that held little interest for you. Stock portfolios, luxury vacations, and exclusive club memberships. You hear it all the time.

It didn't take long for your father to notice your disinterest, though, and it didn't make him happy.

"You should really take more interest in these matters. People talk, you know. It's essential for your future, especially in our circle.“ He hissed at you when he made sure nobody was paying attention, his words dripping with toxicity that echoed the unspoken expectations of your privileged world.

In that moment, you fought an overwhelming urge to snap back, to unleash the resentment that had long been bubbling beneath the surface. You just bit your lip, resisting the impulse.

"I'm sorry, I'm just tired is all," you said with a tight-lipped smile before putting on the aristocratic mask and this time truly engaging in the conversation.

But the air started to feel thick and your eyes started stinging. You couldn’t take a nice deep breath and your joints started to tingle. You quickly put the flute on the tray the passing hostess was holding to hide the slight tremor in your hands.

Fuck. Here we go again.

5 things I can see: chandeliers, flowers, couples dancing, gilded mirrors, candles.

4 things I can touch: my dress, the Champagne glass, smooth marble surfaces, my silver necklace.

3 things I can hear: string quartet melodies, hushed conversations, footsteps.

2 things I can smell: rich perfume, and leather shoes.

1 thing I can taste: bitter Champagne.

You'd fought this anxiety battle right in the middle of a circle of elites many times before and you'd always pushed through. And you always will.

As you finally managed to take a breath and your tears dissolved, you took a quick scan of the room, catching the sight of Moriarty as he watched you.

Great. I’ll never hear the end of this.

The circle of riches finally broke not long after your crisis, and you took that opportunity to excuse yourself from the suffocating atmosphere. The sound of your high heels echoed through your personal space as you headed toward the exit. Unbeknownst to you, on the other side of the room, Moriarty discreetly signaled to his bodyguard it was time to leave, making his exit too.

As he stepped into the darkness of the night, he unbuttoned his midnight blue suit jacket, his eyes scanning the grandiose driveway. He started descending down the grand staircase and as soon as he reached the bottom, he spotted you leaning against the newel post of the steps, your eyes closed and arms crossed over your rising chest.

Jim jerked his head at his bodyguard, who nodded and rushed away, leaving you and Jim alone.

"It's a shame for such a magnificent creature to be hiding out here." You opened your eyes, slightly turning your head to follow his nearing form. "I mean, can they even call themselves 'crème de la crème' when you're not around?" he asked with a furrowed brow as if it was a serious question.

"You're disgusting," you said and let your eyelids fall again, rolling your head back into its original position, the sturdy structure of the stone scratching the back of your head.

He was now right in front of you, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could feel the warmth radiating from his body.

„Your father certainly knows how to orchestrate an impressive show. How long are you planning to dance to his tune?“

You opened your eyes again, the cool darkness giving way to the silhouette of Jim Moriarty standing before you. As your gaze locked with his dark brown eyes, you felt a complex mix of emotions swirling within.

Everything about him was dark, a demon steeped in shadows, but as your eyes lingered on his, you couldn't shake the feeling that, in some inexplicable way, he appeared lighter than the suffocating life you led with your parents.

"Well, you know. It's a waltz I've mastered"

„Sure, sure. But I also know you can only twirl around the predictable steps for so long before the music changes.“

You studied each other in silence before your forms were illuminated by the headlights of a black SUV. He turned on his heels and headed towards the awaiting car, pulling a gum out of his pocket and popping it into his mouth. Once he reached the vehicle, he opened the back door and turned to you, tilting his head as he waited for you to make a decision.

There was no point in stalling, he knew what you were going to decide anyway. You pushed yourself off the hardness of the pillar and walked towards the car. Moriarty smirked as the two of you locked eyes, watching as you got in.

Before he followed your suit, he took a glance at the doors leading inside the manor, spotting your father as he watched the situation unfold with terror on his face. Jim’s smirk widened as his jaw worked the gum, savoring the flavor. Then he disappeared into the luxury of his SUV, and your father only watched as the car sped away, the tires screeching against the rubble of the driveway.

tbc.

oop👀

a/n2: thank you for making it this far! sorry for the pineapples.

[yandere-romanticaa]

Thinking about yanderes who know you better than anyone ever did. They know you better even than you know yourself, that's how in touch they are with your life.

I see them as the subtle types, the ones who would perhaps silently admire you from a safe distance. You look charming in the cafe you're sitting in, chatting away with a friend or two about some shared hobbies. He can't help but to stare, but it's only for a few moments! He knows better than to look for too long, he doesn't want to appear like some sort of creep now, does he? He sips on his drink quietly as his eyes ever so slightly go back and forth towards you and the door, ensuring a safe escape route, just in case things go south but they never do.

You're too lost in your own little bubble to notice him.

From that day onwards he starts to... Well, he's not sure how to put it into words.

It's natural for a person to have a crush but what he feels towards you is something much more intense to ever be in the realms of normalcy. If you've ever spoken two words with him would be a miracle but actually remembering him would be downright impossible because he is just not willing to show himself to you. He stalks all your social media, friends and family included. He is informed of where you went to school, your birthday, what jobs your estranged cousins may have. If you're the type to post stuff online, his life is made that much easier. He screenshots everything you post, no matter how silly and commits it all to memory in case he may need it.

If you don't, then it's a bit harder but he manages. He has a good head on his shoulders, even if that same head is telling him to stop doing this, this isn't right but his bleeding heart is screaming at him to please keep going, please, if I'm not keeping an eye on them 24/7 I think I might die.

No human being should ever know someone so intimately but he does not care. Even if you're not 100% in his life, he is content with whatever this is.

One day, he might grow a pair and properly introduce himself to you.

And it would be so cute if you got along just perfectly because you just so happen to like the same things too... He's always prepared.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ 𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈 (haikyuu), 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 (moriarty the patriot), 𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀 (genshin impact), 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆 (honkai star rail), 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀 𝐇𝐘𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐘𝐀 (seraph of the end), 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐄 (bungo stray dogs), 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐘𝐀 (my hero academia)

[tulipsforvin]

Hello,can I request headcanon about how moriarty brothers will act as bf or s/o pls?

How would The Moriarty Brothers Act As a Significant Other/Bf?

Characters: Albert James Moriarty, William James Moriarty, Louis James Moriarty.

Format: Headcannons.

Albert J. Moriarty

Affluent, rich and successful in almost all aspects to live a luxuriously comfortable life. What else could one ask for?

His gaze follow you anytime you look at something that catches your eye. Perhaps you didn't tell him you wanted it because you felt shy or nervous? He'd keep it a secret - his awareness of you finding something you like.

The next day you'd find it on your bedside table when you wake up, all nicely wrapped.

I reckon he leaves love notes as well ranging from short 'Good morning'(s) to professing his love for you.

Very playful with you. Always, always joking around with you. He loves listening to the sound of your laughter.

Protective. I think he's a fairly jealous man. Definitely not the pouting, sulking type but more like the 'show-them-you're-his' kind of type.

What a gentleman. And I mean, WHAT A GENTLEMAN. Back of the hand kisses, kissing your face, tying your shoelace, opening the door for you..I could go on and on.

He loves to use his money on you.

He knows what he's doing. Although he probably hasn't been in a relationship before, his experience with noble ladies absolutely fangirling over him has probably made him an expert in that field already.

If something gets overwhelming for you, for example a function, he'll shift the spotlight away from you to him so you can have a break. Just like how he does the same thing with William and Louis. Only further proves his protective tendencies.

William J. Moriarty

To be able to get into a relationship with him in the first place implies that you would need to have to break down through several walls that he built to shield himself and go through several obstacles (probably orchestrated by himself☠️).

But once you do, there's a certain comfortness he'll find in your presence. He'll be very vulnerable and turn emotional with you. Shocker. He's also really attentive.

Gets you out of predicaments with ease and can put up with your stubbornness.

He's very sweet and knows how to take care of you. Like, stroking a thumb over your lips if there's milk or something else that you didn't know was there when you just finished eating/drinking something.

Subtle, cute acts that make you swoon.

I'm so, so vey sure he writes love letters.

He's posessive, I'm sure. Contrary to the gentle exterior he has and even though he's quite soft with you, he's posessive. Proof is him going on and on about how Moran was his like a weirdo. Who says he can't do the same with you?

Not very experienced in the field of romance, but he would love to try out new things for you. There's also his intellect. This man probably does research on everything and anything relationship related to please you.

Your personal encyclopedia on all subjects. Don't know about a particular topic? There's nothing to worry about. William, of all people is your boyfriend after all.

Neck kisses. There's something he loves bout intimacy. Like, not just cheek kisses, though they are fine too but I think he loves to explore crevices of your body no one has explored before. Once again, makes him feel like you're his and only his.

Louis J. Moriarty

He likes to bake and cook for you. Anything you want to eat or drink at like, 3 in the morning? He'll trudge out of bed and go make it for you.

He's the more snuggly type. He likes to get warm and cozy with you, especially if it's cold outside.

He's protective like Albert but unlike Albert's more discreet way of acting protective, he's more direct. More agressive with his ways. Just as he is with Sherlock whenever he gets close to William.

NOT EXPERIENCED AT ALL !! He's very clumsy. He probably hasn't even interacted much with ladies before but he tries so, so very hard for you. That's so endearing.

Lots and lots of forehead and nose kisses for sure.

He's not one to talk unless it requires for him to speak so he's pretty satisfied just hearing your voice and nodding his head. A wonderful combination if you like to go on and on about all kinds of random topics.

The type to get easily jealous. He, most likely, has not had alot of meaningful relationships in his life except the Moriarty group, so when he's in a relationship - he's very territorial and gets jealous even though he seems like a sweetheart. Which he is, ofcourse - but just for a selected few.

He gets bashful in the early stages of his relationship or if the two of you are trying out something new. He also likes to bury his face in your chest and neck.

A sucker for intimacy like his older brother.

[isolabellz]

the reunion we didn’t get to see

[ananiel]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[yandere-wishes]

⋆ Anomaly ⋆

❤Summary: Reader is an anomaly. A noblewoman of foreign descent. She doesn't belong here. But oh how she wishes to burn the world down just like William.

❤Author's note: A little something for Ana (@yandere-romanticaa) I hope you enjoy it!!

❤Warnings: Reader is traumatized, Yandere behavior, killing and blood, cryptic. I swear I know how math works…I've just been slaking this summer.

There are equations written over your skin. Complex formulas he's yet to solve. Exponents and variables freckle your body, scattered shards that try to tell him something, whispering the world's secrets every time he kisses your hand. You are an anomaly he thinks. Face full of cracks where the stars seep through. You're a mistake in the universe. A perfect doll misplaced. You are something, William is almost sure of it.

At heart, William is and always will be a mathematician. It just so happens that crime and math follow the same principles. Both require diligence and practice. Carefully throughout plans of how one must approach such a conundrum. One may call it a formula or a modus operandi or anything else as jejune. But in the end, a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet.

And yet to Moriarty, you are an equation that refuses to be solved. An enigma he's desperately sought to unravel since your first meeting.

William notices something odd as you stroll down an exquisite exemplar of the golden ratio. Something the lord of crime can't fully place. You're akin to a puzzle missing far too many pieces to properly depict its picture. Maybe it's the setting he ponders as he watches you take careful steps in heeled shoes. Maybe it's the music from the ballroom or the meaningless prattle of the aristocrats that robs your form of all logic. Something is amiss with you and he's frantic to find out what it is.

William introduces himself when you reach the bottom of the staircase. He's never been one to show primary interest in the ladies. Rather he waits in the faint glow of the moonlight until someone approces him. Maybe it's the need to distinguish himself from the other aristocrats, maybe it's the repulsion for their customs and manners that refrains him from ever commencing idle chatter. Yet with you, a girl he's never met before, he finds it fitting to say hello first. To talk, about nothing and everything in the same breath. He mentions his admiration for the staircase in passing. Never expecting you to latch on to the words and morph them into the divine proportion. "My father was a mathematical enthusiast, he's passed that on to me as well." Your words slip into his veins like a narcotic, like the melody of an ancient tune lost to time.

William smiles, easy and bright like the melting rays of the desert sun. "Quite the coincidence, I'm a mathematics professor at Durham University". There's a giggle that bleeds from your rose-tainted lips. Reverberating in the chambers of his heart. "A toast then" you propose "to the lethal magnificence of calculation"

You click your champagne glass against his, as something feral festers within the young nobleman.

It's only days later when he's replaying that night in his head as he sips his afternoon tea. That he realizes your champagne glass was empty that whole time. How strange he pondered, wondering if he'd even seen you touch a single intoxicant all evening.

Four days and three sleepless nights later William finds himself tracing the letters of your name with tender adoration. As if he's engraving prayers upon his bones. He needs to see you again as desperately as he needs to breathe. The letter he writes is aloof, meticulous. Prying on your curiosity, hoping you'll take the bait. One miserable day later Louis delivers a letter bathed in your fragrance. Informing the lord Moriarty of your acceptance of his invitation for tea. William folds the letter with the leniency of a biologist regulating their slides. Tucking it away within his breast pocket.

You wear red when you oblige his invitation. An odd red, one that breaks his perception of the color. It's too vibrant yet too opaque. He's beginning to wonder if everything about you is an irregularity. When he ushers the conversation to your garment you merely laugh and brush it off as having belonged to your mother. There's something wrong with that reply as if the universe weeps at your every word. William watches astonished as if he's been told a secret lost to time.

It becomes a habit, an obsession, an addiction really. Tea thrice a week with the woman who plagues his dreams. He lets his cover slip between sips of tea. Permitting you glances into his dark affairs. There's a moment that breaks the norm. A bizarre instance when you ask him to spare no detail in recounting how a poor tormented man murdered the marquess that raped his wife. William stops the proclean cup mere millimeters from his lips. His voice dies in his throat as his mind races to find an appropriate way to tell a lady such a bloody tale. For a second reality slips away.

Reality has a tendency to slip away unnoticed when he's with you.

You weave William tales of foreign lands that sound like they belong in children's fairytales. You tell him about heroes who've done the impossible and kings whose hearts are as pure as the summer skies.

Something about you reverberates in his subconscious. Oh, how he wishes to engulf you, to pick apart your flesh revealing all those dainty secrets you keep in your pretty little chest.

He asks how you know of such utopic lands. You smile. "Because I once lived there"

One day, as Louis serves black tea with rose petals, you bring up a rather peculiar request. "Permit me to assist you in your quest for equality lord Moriarty." William's beginning to believe he's going mad when he hears you. Albit it may as well be expected. Any sane noble lady would have run away many times over. Yet you remain. Forever poised in your adorned seat. Now more than ever William wishes he knew what you truly are. "I want to help you", you plead. "Allow me to aid you in burning this world down and starting anew". He shouldn't have accepted, he shouldn't have nobbed. He shouldn't have left his seat to trace the side of your face with more love than he knew he possessed.

Sometimes, William wonders if something is haunting you, an apparition nesting within the depths of your heart. He ponders what could drive a brilliant mind such as yours to crave the blood of the rich. You once told him about a heritage disrespected. A legacy buried under sand and water lilies. He's yet to find the true meaning behind those words. Does that make you a threat or an ally? Can either be exalted to a lover?

Moriarty promises you the world. Promise you revenge. He's not sure if he too will burn away in your vendetta. Yet he's willing to take the risk if he can hold you close after every murder case.

"I've tried to kick the habit of strolling around the cemeteries at night. Yet I must admit I rather enjoy this." William smiles at your twisted words as he leads the way. If everything has goes as planned -which is most often the case- then the two of you should be prepared for quite the spectacle. A certain Count - who had shown more interest in you than Moriarty could permit- would be getting knifed by his butler whose life he had ruined. A whole new meaning to the term 'the butler did it'. Quite comedic from William's perspective.

You lean on a withering oak tree, hidden by London's thick fog. William stands by your side, the personification of a grim reaper. You watch the play begin, the cobblestone stage illuminated by the blood-red moon. The confrontation, the knife being thrust into the rich vermin's heart. Again and Again and Again. The butler screams into the bloodstained night. His words quelled by his sobs and screams of agony from his dying tormentor. You only catch half of his reasoning, half of his allegations. And yet that is more than enough to comprehend his motive. You sympathize with the poor man, one whose scars mirror your own.

William's scarlet gaze befalls you, as the performance nears its end.

You pick at your nails in a manner that William finds a little too adorable.

You are an anomaly masquerading as a human. Depression lays heavy over your bones as stardust gathers in the corners of your eyes.

You pray to the creator of the moon, pray for a place long since destroyed.

"I've yet to find someone who truly understands me," you say as the two of you begin the journey back to the Moriarty estate.

"Then we share the same burden, my lady," William says, stopping in his tracks.

He lays a firm hand on your shoulder pulling you backwards into his embrace. Somewhere in the distance, three crows consecrate you with their blessings. Willian's hands rest heavy on your sides. He holds you like a little boy holds his father's arithmatic books. Full of care, full of wonder. "What are you" he whispers into your ear. Leaving a playfully hard bite to the shell. His lips trace yours like one traces a treasure map. Trying to unearth all the riches of the world. "My anomaly" he mutters before he finally commits.

When Moriarty kisses you the whole world melts away.

There's an intriguing lightheadedness that follows. As if the stars themselves have exploded within you. You wonder if basking in his presence will mend your tattered heart.

"My precious little anomaly"

Tag list: @elvyshiarieko @himerurun @latolover @aru-nightmare @guidingstarsstuff @myfancollections

[kanroji-san]

Y/n: don't kill me, I have a husband! Random Aristocrat: I don't care! Y/n: you don't understand, I'm not begging for mercy or anything like that. This is a warning. Louis: *suddenly bursts in* YOU'RE READY TO DIE!

[fairy-writes]

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

A BUSINESS PROPOSAL

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): William James Moriarty x Reader

Word Count: 3k

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

Notes: So this was super fun to write! 

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

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

PART TWO HERE

__________________________________________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least someone shared your sentiment. 

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

The letter was short. 

Dearest sister, 

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

With best regards, 

Mycroft Holmes

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

This was going to be fun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scowls, 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Taking away your funding? 

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

Much less one as young as yourself! 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could they? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sherlock trusted him well enough… 

Perhaps…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?!” You demand, and he shrugs, 

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

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

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

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

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

“I accept your proposal.”

[ranposbabe]

You Dangle The Mistletoe

summary: how some mtp men react when you dangle the mistletoe above you ;)

warnings: slightly suggestive in all except louis n herder (??)

WILLIAM JAMES MORIARTY

William had spent the entire day locked in his study

He didn’t mind as the hours flew by but you begged to differ

All was quiet while he continued to read his book until he heard a rather loud knock at the door.

He wonders who it is (not)

He expected you to simply walk in and yet when he didn’t hear your footsteps or was only then did he turn around.

You stood there with the mistletoe laying on top of your head

Like a statue waiting for his reaction first

He attempted to hide his smirk but of course you saw right through

“Take that off your head, y/n” He sighs, his eyes still stuck to the page.

You don’t even think he was actually reading at this point, surely it doesn’t take that long to read one page

“I will if only you-

“If only I what ?”

“Take off your clothes first”

William could no longer hide his smirk

ALBERT JAMES MORIARTY

It was late eventing and Albert had finally returned from his military duties

But what you didn’t expect was to find Albert still in his uniform.

But it was a good surprise

You always thought he looked good in any colour but he something about him in red had you hot and bothered-i always get carried away when writing about Albert plss

Anyways he’s standing there looking proud and you’re dangling that mistletoe with your shaking hands and all is well

He then joins you by your side and does not hesitate in kissing you

You both enjoy yourself as you spend hours minutes kissing

When I say enjoy I mean like really enjoy

But next thing you know he’s groping your chest :0

“Albert !” You gasp at the sudden pleasurable sensations

He apologizes but he doesn’t mean it

He looks down at you with this mesmising emerald eyes that are glazed over with lust as he chuckles at the sight of your face becoming hot-

“You were holding it rather low, y/n”

LOUIS JAMES MORIARTY

Louis stood rather anxiously in the kitchen as he listed to himself the ingredients he needed to gather to prepare supper

As always you were prepared to lighten the mood

Of course it never made him feel better you just got a laugh out of it most of the time

With his back facing you, you did spend quite some time simply watching him as he worked.

You were about to make him stress even more

“I think you’re missing something.”

He acts like he knew you were there but he didn’t (at least the whole time you were there)

“What is it ?” He rather blunt while you giggle showing off the mistletoe

He just stands there looking at you and you’re starting to get freaked out by his judgemental stare

He can’t help it though he struggles with expressing himself :(

He quickly catches on and trust me he wants to give you a little kiss but what if moran walks in ???!

Nobody is ever in the mood to deal with that man

Eventually he does come to your side and gently presses a kiss to your cheek

He does look behind your back to make sure no one is there

“Here” You hand him a napkin from the kitchen counter only for him to raise a brow in confusion at you

“You have a squished berry on your cheek”

SHERLOCK HOLMES

Sherlock had mentioned to you earlier in the day that his day would be filled with jobs so he of course told you not to wait up for him

Of course you never listen to him

To be far as it was already late you didn’t think you’d have to wait long for his return.

You were so wrong

You decided to wait up holding the mistletoe above your head waiting

Sherlock was gone so long you literally fell asleep

Some time went by Sherlock was busy :(

Your eyes flutter open to see the room in complete darkness except for a candle keeping the room in a dimly light

“What’s this ?”

You jump up in shock to see the sight of Sherlock standing over you holding the mistletoe as if to inspect it

“Nothing !” You laugh, without hesitation you grab it right from the detective

But still Sherlock observed it, noticing immediately how hot your face became as you twiddled with it nervously

“Perhaps it should be lower.”

Next thing you know the mistletoe is laying on your stomach ;)

Let’s just say…Sherly knows where to place his kisses <3

VON HERDER

You didn’t have to search far when it came to looking for Herder

“Herder !!!” You called, of course not surprised to see the man hunched over working on something you could only guess was an invention or so

With his back facing you as he was sat in his chair you didn’t hesitate to make your presence more known

“Oh hello” He smirks at slight ticklish sensation of the mistletoe touching the tip of his nose

Still sitting, he looked straight up tilting his head back already anticipating exactly what you came for

He couldn’t help but chuckle as you rather hastily pressed a quick kiss against his lips

“Well thank you for my present, y/n” He stands up from his seat.

He could tell you were blushing

With his figure now standing in front of the table tho truly did begin to wonder what exactly he was working on

But with Herder you were never left wondering long

“Here’s your present !”

Your jaw dropped as soon as you saw what was laid out on the table

“My very own gun !!!!”

[pfpanimes]

⌕ yuukoku no moriarty • william j. moriarty.

like or reblog if you save/use.

[miffytaffy]

dating william james moriarty aesthetic

[yandere-romanticaa]

Omgg I am obsessed with your recent mtp Yandere William posts. I am a sucker for Yandere William but for his darling to be a Yandere for him also?? That’s just chefs kiss. I love how he acts obviously to his darling’s pinning! I can see him testing his darling and putting them through an emotional rollercoaster whenever he “mistakes” their gestures as innocent and friendly or getting close with other women. Like darling is contemplating whether they should march over to him talking to the women flirting with him and grab him by his tie and pull him away or stay put but glare daggers at him and the woman.

He'd act so coy, the perfect gentleman. Why, he is only making small talk with the ladies who came up to him, it would be rude to turn them away! Social protocol is unfortunately something to consider here and as a gentleman from a noble house, William can't turn down the women most of the time, particularly if they catch him off guard.

The faces you make are like a drug to him. William is a man who can read you like an open book, there's absolutely nothing you can hide from him. Even as you do your best to stay hidden in the shadows he can still make out the bitter frown on your face and if looks could kill, every single woman that surrounded him would already be deep in the ground, serial killer style.

You have no idea that William feels exactly the same when it comes to you too.

Men are slimy dogs who will do practically anything to get their hands on a woman.

In a way, he's no better.

Whenever he thinks that some fool has a chance with you, William makes his move. Bloodshed is not ideal but it is not completely off the table either, more so if the gentleman in question thinks that he can just have you as he damn pleases.

William always has to hold himself back from scoffing and pinching the bridge between his nose whenever he's talking to these morons. To think, that these men could come close to your level is preposterous. They do not even bother to see the absolute radiance you possess, if he could William would kiss the ground you walk on. He wants to worship you, give you his entire heart, body and soul, it's all you deserve and so much more.

He's more than happy to see that you feel the same way. All he needs to do is bide himself just a little bit more time and he can go in for the kill.

You will be his. There were no doubts about that.

[tulipsforvin]

Hi ! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ I would like to react to the moriarty boys reacting to their s/o messing with them and doing the "you know other woman ?!"

I’m sure you’re gonna do great, I love your work !

✧ thank you for requesting and for your kind words !! also, really, really sorry for the incredibly late response 🥲

✧ albert james moriarty

“honey?” he calls out to you. he's holding up a dark blue suit infront of him in his right hand and a black one in his other hand. “which one do you think would be appropriate for tonight?”

he'd told you yesterday that he'd been invited by the queen for some sort of function, which is why he had been asking for your advice on what to wear.

“hmm..” you ponder. “what kind of party is it and who is going to be there?”

“well, it's supposed to be a banquet held by the queen—so probably noblemen and noblewomen.”

“do you know them?”

“well, i'm acquainted with the men and i've held conversations with some of the women before.”

“hold on a second..” you pause. “so what you're staying is that.. you know other women than me?”

he freezes. “..honey?” he's practically sweatdropping in an instant. has he made you upset somehow?

why? he thinks to himself, staring at you in shunned silence. for being aware of the existence of other women on this planet? would blinding himself do the trick? perhaps he and you should move to a cave instead, perhaps—

you can practically see the coils turning in his head, the way his adam's apple bobs when he gulps, the sweat forming on his brow and you can't help but burst out laughing.

“a little overdramatic, aren't you?” you giggle and he looks at you like you've just told him the sky is below.

“what..?” he raises an eyebrow, confused. “i'm not sure i follow, however, if i've angered you then-”

“i was joking, al.” you grin and he exhales heavily in relief, hand on his chest. but he manages to calm down, even tease you back a little. “you've already taken my heart and now you want to take my life as well? quite selfish, don't you think, my dear?”

✧ william james moriarty

“i still think you should rest..” you huff.

although he only just recently recovered from a fever, he'd resumed with his duties. “rest assured, darling, i'm sure grading a few test papers won't kill me.'” william tells you, a subtle smile on his lips.

the man lifts his head up from the desk ever so slightly, watching your lips form into the smallest of pouts. amused, and quite fond of how endearing you look—he leans back in his chair, chuckling softly.

“if you're that worried, i'll inform you that i already have someone from the university helping me.”

“really? then—” you exhale. “wait, she?”

“mm?” he tilts his head. “yes. she.”

“wait—” your eyebrows furrow and your eyes narrow into a glare. “you know other women?”

“pardon?” william blinks in surprise. the calmness that he always exerts seems to crackle the tiniest bit as confusion surges within him. “are you.. jealous?”

“hah?” hands crossed, a single eyebrow raised.

the blond's eyebrows shoot up momentarily before relaxing. he's far too intelligent to not catch up to the little prank you're playing on him, far too observant not to notice the little grin you're trying to hide.

he laughs, eyes creasing. “very funny, love.” he says sarcastically. “but you have absolutely nothing to worry about..”

william takes your hand in his, pressing soft lips atop your knuckles. “for my attention, affection and everything of me are reserved, solely for you.”

✧ louis james moriarty

it is afternoon and the two of you are strolling in the streets of durham, grocery shopping. your fingertips brush as you both walk by side by side. louis suggests going to the bakery and buying some pastries since one of the missions that his elder brother planned had become a complete success.

as the two of you enter the bakery and look over the cake and pastry counter, deciding what to buy—

“louis!” a woman chirps, eyes glittering. she's hovering right behind louis, looking over his shoulder. “good to see you again. what are you buying?”

“oh.” louis turns, nods his head. “it's good to see you, too. we were just deciding on what pastries to buy.”

“really?” she asks. then, points to a few pastries. “you should buy these, they're really good.” and suddenly, they've engaged in deep conversation about dairy while you watch them interact in utter silence.

something about this irks you, even if it's by the slightest so you decide to mess around with him.

once she's gone, you begin quietly. “i didn't know you knew other women than me.” your lips look like they've inflated with how much you're sticking them out in feigned upsetness, and that startles louis.

“is that... an issue to you?” he questions, genuinely curious. he's careful with his words—amidst his surprise—because he notices your demeanor turning gloomy. “she is just someone i happen to coincidentally meet once in a while i do some shopping. nothing more, nothing else.”

he's sincere in his words, his eyebrows furrowed in genuine worry and you begin to feel a little guilty.

you shrug. “it's okay, you don't need to explain yourself to me.” you tell him. “because i'm not really upset or anything, i was just joking.”

and then you give him a grin and you watch his tense shoulders visibly relax. “i.. see. then—”

“but we're not going to get the pastries she suggested.” you tell him bluntly and he blinks in surprise.

“let's choose something else together, louis.” your words sound joyous and so does your voice but something about your smile makes him feel a little chill down his spine.

perhaps you were a little jealous, after all?

[moriartyluver]

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

Meanwhile he’s just flustered and blushing in the corner

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

🎀.

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

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

Format: oneshots

Genre: fluff

Prompt: ^^

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

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

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

“Come in.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ananiel]

What if You were the snake in the grass of their world?

Talking about this "snake in the grass" saying. It's the fact that usually, all the snakes You find on fields aren't poisonous and usually harmless, more afraid of You then You are of them. But there is a very poisonous species of snakes that hides around fields and is said to have a poison strong enough to kill an adult in less then 30 seconds after the bite

So think of it, a snake in general brings fright to people because hey, it looks weird and scary. People usually don't care if it is poisonous or not. They just run away and don't look back, saying that it is better to be safe then sorry

So thinking of it. What if You come from a misterious family. One that is known for being linked to many murders and / or felonies as a whole.

Yet, your family had always an excuse or turned out to have an aliby that held them out of this acusations. Even if they had witnesses to prove that they were part of it, they never got caught

So that's when You come along. A young individual, one that doesn't seem to have bite in them at all. A quiet and shy person or a loud but inocent one.

They see You and think of You being weak, harmless, but knowing the rumours that your family is surounded with, they are still very carefull around You

Even if the cruelty doesn't run on the surface like the rest of your family, You are still very misterious yourself

Not many know anything about You, somehow, no matter to who you speak, they become more clueless then they were before after they spoke to You.

But what if there are more layers to your personality, what if You wait until they are close of You and then You attack? What if You act weak just to get their guard down for You to strike better?

What if the cruel and calculated individual is the real You. What if the real You is ready to kill and hurt anyone to get their way?

What if You are the true villain of the story they are in ? What if You truly are the snake behind it all?

And what if they get addicted to your poison? What if they get addicted to the sharp toungue of yours? What if they are ready to die to have You in their arms?

Imagine the irony, they watched as many fawned over them, not knowing their true intensions, only for them to fawn over You, but them knowing who you truly are and what You do

[shuichiakainx]

they put Sherlock BBC on Netflix and guess who's watching it again 🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️