#william j moriarty

[q1ngqve]

ᝰ LEAVE !

✶ 𓏲ּ ꩜ 𓂅 cockwarming william j. moriarty!

CW; fem! reader, cockwarming, penetration, praise kink, slight edging, ‘good girl’, ‘pretty girl’, ‘darling’, slight angst at the end

soft whimpers fill william’s office as you sit on his lap, his cock buried deep inside of your cunt. he’s told you to keep it down at least three times, telling you that the others would hear if you kept whimpering his name like that.

that comment shut you up immediately, you haven’t told anyone but you’ve been sleeping with almost all of them since you arrived and joined their little group. you just couldn’t help it, how could you when all of them gives you their undivided attention and respect? and it’s pretty damn hard to say no when they’re all so convincing in their own way.

you bite back another moan when william shifts his hip beneath you, trying to get into a more comfortable position while he focuses on grading the maths assignments before him.

you know he’s doing it on purpose, he’d shift his position slightly every once in a while just to rile you up. it isn’t the first time you’re cockwarming him, but it sure is the first time you’re lasting this long trying not to fuck yourself on his cock. and he can feel it, the way you’re clenching around him unconsciously and the way you’re already dripping down his pants is a clear indication that you’re this close to begging him to fuck you.

your legs tremble as you struggle to stop your body from reacting. the pleasure was just too much to handle, especially when the tip of his dick kisses your spot so sweetly. and he presses a soft kiss to the crevice of your neck, “I’m almost done, just a little longer, okay? you’re doing so well for me.” and all you can muster without making too much noise is a soft hum that you’re not even sure if he heard.

william knows. of course he does. he knows you’ve been sleeping with the rest of the group, and he knows he should be doing something about it, but he’s not going to deny the fact that you’ve raised their morales tenfold since you joined. and he knows he shouldn’t be fraternizing with a fellow team member, but it’s so hard when you’re so fucking obedient to everything he says. he loves that about you, always so pliant and obedient for him.

you are so close to fucking yourself on his dick, and he knows that as well. which is why he shifts his legs, the soft motion pushes his dick right up against your g-spot. the moan you’ve been holding flies out in an instant, and you let go. the pleasure was just too much to not move, how could you not when he’s so deep inside, stretching and filling you up so good?

your hips grind down onto his and you let your whimpes escape, fully focused on chasing your high and throwing away the fact that you might get punished later into the back of your head.

but obviously, doing it by yourself isn’t enough. william smiles when he hears your pleas tumble out in incoherent words, barely catching on to what you’re trying to say. but he’s fucked you enough times to know that you’re begging. begging him to thrust up into your warm, wet cunt, giving you the release you want so badly.

“please, please, please— I’ve been so good!”

william hums, the sound reverberating deep from his throat. “you have, haven’t you?” he thinks he’s getting soft hearted, especially when it comes to you. “been a good girl and cockwarmed me for so long, didn’t even move a muscle and make a sound. isn’t that right?”

a few strands of hair falls to the front of your face when you nod in reply, trying so hard not to scream his name you finally feel him thrusting up into you.

“pretty girl deserves a reward, don’t you think?”

“yes please…”

you hear him chuckle before his leather-gloved hands grabs your hip and shoves you onto his desk. he swears he’s losing it. completely and absolutely losing it when it comes to you. one look at you lying on his desk beneath him with your face contorted in pleasure is enough to make him cum on the spot.

but he promised he’d give you your reward, and he always delivers.

your back arches off the wooden desk when you feel his hands drawing circles on your clit. the sensitive muscle reacting to his touch instantly, sending heat up your core.

william twitches inside you, feeling your soft walls clenching around him as your whimpers increase in pitch. “c’mon darling, you’ve got this. come for me.” you blacked out for a second, your climax hitting you like a truck under his soft coaching.

“that’s it, good girl.”

soft moans leaves his own lips as he cums inside you, unable to hold it back any longer.

you steady your breathing, eyes still closed as you await the harsh change in his tone. “now, leave.” your eyes open, adjusting to the lights above, heart breaking into a thousand pieces.

william’s already shoved himself back into his pants and looking down at you like you’re filth, as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out. you scramble to stand and smooth your dress, eyes hardening at this repeated scene ever since the two of you began this whole ‘thing’.

the sound of your heels walking away in the corridor has his own heart aching. deep down, he is sure that he’s falling in love, and he can not allow himself that luxury, not when so much is at stake.

⭒ A/N — this was supposed to be a drabble so idk how it turned into a full blown fic with some plot behind it…

[favficbirthdays]

Happy Birthday

William James Moriarty (1st April)

Moriarty The Patriot

[igot2137problems]

Catch me if you can, Mr. Holmes. 🔪🎩

❗like/reblog if you save/use❗

[sunchiw]

AWW LATE BDAY ART FOR WILLIAM

[lilies-are-azules]

I rarely see people give louis that status in william's life tho? It's always sherlock this romantic love that

You're probably right and maybe I just read three fics that did the same thing in the same hour and im just exaggerating.

(Maybe im having a moment because I've been in a lot of fandoms were they do this thing of "adoptive sibling is less siblings because they are not blood related")

I still wanted to point that I don't think Liam would do this difference of adoptive/biological sibling. I believe that if they weren't blood related Liam would still be overprotective with Louis.

[saintorhypocrite]

in my mind trans william is so canon

[tulipsforvin]

smudge of love & lipstick ✦ wj. moriarty

⚠️: a little suggestive, make out sesh with liam. not proofread.

author: creds to val dearest for the idea @.starsh1ne-va1ly btw

art by @.ogata69 on x // william j. moriarty x fem!reader

“lord william is certainly the very epitome of gentlemanliness out there, isn't he?”

“ladies...—”

“of course, lady adelaide! not only is he kind and gentle, but also smart, good-looking and...” chirping from noblewomen fade into the background. william exhales slowly, looking down at his pocket watch.

forty six minutes.

in forty six minutes he'd have to open up an entrance for his colleagues to slide in and go forth with their mission for tonight; however, with the way things were going on, women from high society clinging onto him—it certainly proved to be very difficult.

“hm..” william hums absentmindedly, gaze searching for you in the crowd. he seems to be doing this more often than usual these past few months. he tells himself it's because he's looking out for you—another colleague of his, but he knows the way he looks at you is different than the way he looks at others.

did he perhaps like you...? no way. certainly not.

“looking for someone?”

you pop up behind him, hands behind your back and a cheery smile on your lips. he stares at you too long, though, and you can't help but ask: “william?”

“ah, yes. i...” he clears his throat. “there is something i wish to talk to you about.” he glances back at the noblewomen all looking curiously at you two, eager to listen in to your conversation. a sigh. “privately.”

“oh.” you nod. “okay, sure. let us go, then?”

william gives you the smallest twitch of a smile and turns to the noblewomen with a bow to excuse himself, “pardon me, ladies. i will be right back.”

“exactly where are we going, by the way?” you question the blond when the two of you are scurrying away from the party with long, fast steps.

“somewhere private.”

“not much of a hint, willie.”

“please.”

“it was a joke.”

you could tell he was fidgety than usual. had something gone wrong with the plan? his calculations? what was the issue here? unable to ask and wanting to co-operate, you follow him silently.

“woah. pretty.” you look around when you finally enter a tall but cramped room, dark and heavy purple silk curtains draping everywhere, accompanied by the sense of incense, a table in the middle with cards along with a hand-held mirror atop it and an.. orb?

“it's a fortune reading room.” william explains when he reads the confusion and curiosity on your face.

“mm.. well,” your fingers travel across the fabrics of the purple silk lazily. “what are we doing here?”

“do you have lipstick on you?”

you pat the hidden pocket on your dress. “yep.”

“kiss me.”

you freeze. a brief, almost painful pause.

“...what?”

“kiss me.” he repeats, like the first one wasn't clear enough. “..for the success of the mission, of course. being swarmed by a horde of noble ladies would prevent me from entering the men's club and opening a route for fred to infiltrate, thus dropping the success rate from a whole 100 percent to—”

“okay, okay, okay.” you throw your hands up in the air. “i understand. just, y'know, don't speak maths.”

“my apologies.”

you make your way to the round table, take your seat, hold up the handheld mirror, pull out your lipstick and start painting your lips red. occasionally you'd happen to peek at the reflection from the mirror to william and what you'd see was:

a strange expression. heavy—yet not sad. contemplative—yet not harsh. soft and hazy—yet focused on you. fond; the way he looked at you.

“okay, i'm done.” you stand up and make your way to a william staring at you with folded arms, leaning against a wall. “how.. do i look?”

you can't help but ask.

and he can't help but answer: “ravishing.”

as always. he'd add, but that would be too much.

“here i go, then.” you lean in and william leans his head downwards. your heart beats are loud, drumming past your chest and into the open and..

a soft, barely there kiss, no—a peck on the cheek.

“...” that ended too quickly for william. he seems almost disappointed when you pull back and away.

you hand him the hand held mirror and he observes the light mark of your red lips on his right cheek.

although it was a mark enough and visible to the naked eye, it wasn't enough. for him, to be exact.

a single kiss on the cheek isn't enough for him.

“that won't cut it. we need to be convincing, (name). as much as possible.” he leans back in towards you, pulling you back to him gently by your wrist. perhaps he was being too selfish. “let me have some more.”

“..alright.” but it didn't matter anymore. especially when he feels the touch of your soft lips bless his skin once more. it starts innocent; a kiss on his nose first, then his cheeks again, one on his brow and—

“ah,” your lips press somewhere on his neck, somewhere that makes him shiver—somewhere that causes the adam's apple on his neck to move.

“oh—oops. too much?”

were you teasing him?

william looks down at you dizzily, pupils dilated and his voice is slightly hoarser, rougher when he begins speaking once again. “no.. please continue.”

and so you go on with your charity of kisses, placing them wherever his bare skin laid; more and more. bolder, harder, passionately. hotter and hotter—he feels his composure, the one he was known to hold during all difficulties snap in an instant with you.

a loud crash. and then silence.

“...liam?”

william's knee is between your legs, pushing you up against a wall—your wrists pinned against it's cold, hard texture by his long, slender hands.

“haa.. haa..” hot breaths tainting each other's skin; panting and panting. there's a look in his eyes; wild and feral, almost teetering on animalistic. his gaze falls to your lips; those soft, alluring lips of yours inviting him in for a bite. william gulps, licks his lips, contemplates, hesitates. and then pulls back shakily.

“sorry.” he mumbles hoarsely, staggering a step back in shock of his own actions. he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. “i'm sorry, (name).”

he'd almost gone and done it. he almost, almost kissed you. almost pulled you in by your waist. almost ruined whatever relationship the two of you had—

william's eyes widen in surprise. hot, wet lips against his own trembling ones. you take a step further, fingers digging into the fabric of his sleeves, pushing yourself onto your tiptoes all the while you're stepping on his shoes. but he doesn't seem to mind.

not one bit.

he leans his head down, angles his lips to your own lips, holds you by the hips and kisses you back with the same passion, the same heat and desperation.

you pull back for air. “if you're going to do it, go all the way. don't back down—that's not like you.”

“..haha.” he's too drunk in your shared kisses, he chuckles half consciously; gaze hazy and nips on your bottom lip teasingly. your hands loop around his neck and attack him with more of your heated kisses.

and they go on for a while; lips smushed sloppily against each other—stopping only when the two of you head voices outside of the room, making you both flinch and bringing yourselves to a halt.

“before we go out..” he whispers lowly, forehead resting atop yours; his eyes are closed—his expression calm, but it was clear from his thundering heartbeat that it was the opposite.

“i must tell you something i've hidden too deep in the crevices of my heart for far too long.” a deep breath. “i do not remember when you first made an appearance in my life, all i know is you been there since—with and without your presence; you have made a home for you to live in every inch of me. every hour, every minute and every second i spend thinking and drowning in a possibility of you and me.”

and then he presses his lips against your own for the last time; infinitely softer. “i love you dearly, (name).”

he pulls back, detaching himself away from you.

both of your appearances are messy when you return from your secret little rendezvous, messy hair, half crumpled clothes and lipstick smudges everywhere. it is certainly a sight to look at and you realize nobles—men and women alike are practically gawking at the two of you. william slips past for a few minutes to finally clear a secret pathway for his colleagues to enter through and follow on with their mission, all while noblewomen swarm you with questions.

“my god, lady (name)! did you truly kiss lord william?”

“are the lipstick marks on him yours?”

“what is going on between the two of you?”

an arm wraps around your shoulder. william's back.

“i must apologise for my curtness, ladies. but i must ask that we all be calm with our queries and curiosities. can we do that? my darling seems to be feeling a little under the weather, you see.”

“p-pardon? ‘darling’? then—!" the noblewomen feel their eyes practically fall out of their sockets.

“yes,” he smiles kindly at the noblewomen. “if i'm allowed to, and would certainly feel honoured to, i can answer any questions you have in my her stead.”

click. all lights go off. people shriek. they are here.

and you are nothing but glad because at least in the dark nobody can see how red your face is burning up in embarrassment and fluster, especially when the blond pulls you in close to him protectively.

[fairy-writes]

Hello dear! How are you? I hope you are doing great💕

I'd like to request an oneshot with William J. Moriarty, where he has just returned from a mission with minor injuries on his back and his wife (preferably feminine, but if you're uncomfortable gender neutral is fine!) takes care of him. There she sees the scars from when his foster mother would punish him so she caresses and kisses his back😌.

With prompt 7

I really hope this is not confusing and thank you very much in advance. 😘😘

KNOW WHEN IT’S ENOUGH

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): William James Moriarty x Reader

Prompt: “Enough is enough, and your best is good enough.” (Dialogue Prompt #7)

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader

Notes: I’m weak for people calling their significant other “love.”

Vague references to the Hounds of the Baskervilles chapter(s) of the manga!

__________________________________________________________________________

It’s late when William gets home. 

You wake to the sound of the bedroom door opening and see him in the light of the dying fireplace. Your husband is haggard, covered in dirt, and looks like he’s two seconds away from passing out. 

You’re out of bed in an instant, gently working his long black coat from his shoulders and guiding him toward the shared bathroom in your chambers. 

“I’m fine, love. Really, it’s merely a few scratches.” He says, and you hush him as you turn on the oil lamps and flit about the bathroom like a busy bee. You gather bandages and ointment from under the sink and draw a bath. Setting your supplies on the counter, you turn to face your husband. 

William is leaning tiredly against the doorframe, watching with something akin to amusement at your fretting. 

“I promise you, I’m alright.” He says, and you shake your head, approaching him and dusting some dirt off of his cheek. 

“I want to make sure, William. Please?” You whisper, and he sighs, cupping your hand and keeping it there. He leans into your touch and offers a small smile.

“When can I ever say no to you?” He whispers, and you grin brightly. 

You turn away to give William some privacy as he sheds the rest of his clothes. You’ve already seen all of him. As he’s seen all of you. But it still seemed appropriate. 

The splash of water alerts you, and you turn to see William sinking into the bath, eyes closed and looking utterly at peace. You fold his clothes and set them aside as he starts to relax. His arms hand out of the tub, and as you drag a stool to sit behind him, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even move as you lather some soap in your hands and scrub it deep into his hair, getting all the dirt and smoke out from the golden strands. 

Once done scrubbing his hair, you take a cup that was beside the tub and fill it with water to gently rinse the grime from your husband’s hair. 

“What was the mission about this time?” You ask softly, and his eyelashes flutter but don’t open, as if you had woken him from sleep.

“Some nobles had been kidnapping children and hunting them for sport. Fred was worried, so we went and took them down. The children were rescued.” He says simply, and you hum.

“What about the nobles?” You can’t help but ask, and he finally tilts his head back and opens his eyes to look at you. 

They’re tired and dark.

As if he had done something terrible.

He likely had.

You weren’t a fool. You weren’t necessarily privy to William’s methods, but you were well aware of the lengths he would go to achieve his goals. 

“They got what they deserved.” Is all he says, and closes his eyes again as you comb the wet hair from his eyes. You nod once,

“I’m glad.” You reply. The two of you sit in silence as you gently wash the dirt from William’s shoulders. 

Then you noticed the faint red color coming from his back, leaking into the water and turning it pink.  With a frown, you gently push William forward from where he was relaxing to get a good look at his back. He moved without a fight.

William wasn’t necessarily well-built or massive like Moran. He was lithe and lean, built almost like a dancer rather than a fighter. 

He was also covered in scars. Old and new. Some were from past missions. Others were not. 

Though William wasn’t one to talk about his past, you had gathered enough in passing conversation to know that Albert’s family wasn’t the kindest to him and Louis. You knew the both of them were adopted from an orphanage as a charity case rather than out of the goodness of the Moriarty family’s hearts. You knew their birth son, whose name your husband had taken, was especially cruel to the boys. And you knew that the mother was quick to physical violence. 

But to this extent?

You traced what looked like an old scar of a belt buckle, and it was then that William realized just what was going on. He sat up quickly, turning to say something but stopped when he saw the look on your face. 

It was then that you realized you were crying. 

Tears streaked your cheeks, and you wiped them with soapy fingers, careful not to get the suds in your eyes. Droplets of water dotted your nightgown, but you paid them no mind. He turned so he was facing you in the tub and reached with a wet hand to cup your cheek.

“Why do you cry, my love?” He asked, and you gave a rather sad, watery sort of smile.

“Because you’re always doing so much with no regard for yourself. You took all that witch’s punishments without complaint, without so much as a word against her.” You whispered, and his eyes turned so unimaginably sad.

“I have to. I have to try my best to help others.” He replied, and you shook your head, leaning to press a kiss to his shoulder.

“Enough is enough, and your best is good enough. You can’t work yourself to death. I won’t stand for it.” You say, and he doesn’t say anything else.

So, once he’s clean, you fetch his robe, a towel, and a fresh change of night clothes. You wait until he’s clothed from the waist down before dressing the injuries on his back. They’re minor in severity and won’t need stitches, but you clean and bandage them nonetheless.

All the while, William doesn’t say a word.

Until you’re nearly finished, that is. 

As you’re wrapping the last of the gauze around the worst of the largest injury, he speaks. 

“Thank you.” He says quietly, and you smile, although he can’t see it. You lean and press a gentle kiss to his back, right over his heart.

“It’s not a problem. I love you.” You reply, and he hums.

“I love you too.”

[theoutcastrogue]

"The knife is a weapon of the Other"

"The emerging martial art of Bartitsu, appearing in middle-class magazines during the Boer War, was the encapsulation of British civilian gallantry. Yet Bartitsu would have slid into obscurity had it not been for its curious appearance in the Sherlock Holmes canon. The final showdown of the ‘duel’ between Holmes and Moriarty is a wrestling match between two Victorian masterminds. When Holmes returns to London he tells Watson that he and Moriarty went to battle at the Reichenbach Falls unarmed. Holmes managed to ‘slip through’ Moriarty’s grip as he possessed ‘some knowledge’ of ‘baritsu, or the Japanese system of wrestling’, adding that the art had on occasion been useful to him.

Founded in the 1890s by an Anglo-Scottish engineer, Edward William Barton-Wright (1860–1951), Bartitsu was a synthesis of British boxing, French la savate (kickboxing) and Japanese jujitsu. Barton-Wright tapped into the need for a bourgeois form of self-defence, something which he could promote as being British and yet was also exotic and refined.

The principal aim of Bartitsu’s promoters was ‘to provide a means whereby the higher classes of society may protect themselves from the attacks of hooligans and their like all over the world’. These urban gangs were a new form of folk devil, descendants of the mid-Victorian-era garotter. While they were armed with clubs, knuckles, iron bars and leather belts, it is doubtful that they carried firearms. Nevertheless, the press did represent the hooligan as a threatening presence.

Perhaps the scares promoted the growth of a burgeoning culture of ‘British’ self-defence which avoided the aggressive and increasingly unmanly action of using a firearm against a ruffianly lower-class opponent equipped only with basic weapons.

Barton-Wright follows a literary tradition when he presents his martial art as a British form of self-defence. Pierce Egan’s well-known self-defence manual was supplemented with a word on the ‘Englishness’ of physical heroism, arguing that ‘Englishmen need no other weapons in personal contests than those which nature has so amply supplied them with’. In 1910 the former lightweight boxing champion Andrew J. Newton said in his manual Boxing that ‘the native of Southern Europe flies to his knife’, whereas the ‘Britisher […] is handy with his fists in an emergency’. Elsewhere it was maintained that the ‘Italian, Greek, Portuguese, or South American’ ‘give preference to the knife’ while the Englishman extols boxing. For Barton-Wright, British boxers ‘scorn taking advantages of another man when he is down’, while a foreigner might ‘use a chair, or a beer bottle, or a knife’ or, ‘when a weapon is available’, he might employ ‘underhanded means’. The views of these articles reappear in a later self-defence manual of 1914, where it is argued that Britons ‘live in a country where knife and revolver are not much in evidence’. This statement about the low number of firearms and edged weapons can be read as an attempt to extol British virtues and is not necessarily representative of reality. The knife is a weapon of the Other. Barton-Wright’s view that English practitioners of Bartitsu are principled men is reflected in the Sherlock Holmes canon, where Holmes never uses a knife, although his enemies, whether foreign or British, do so at times."

— Emelyne Godfrey, Masculinity, Crime and Self-Defence in Victorian Literature (Palgrave Macmillan, 2013) (very abridged)

[pfpanimes]

⌕ yuukoku no moriarty • william j. moriarty.

like or reblog if you save/use.

[married-to-google-translater]

hi!! can u pls write a yandere liam j moriarty x reader where like the reader spends like a lot of time w/ james or moran or sum?? :3

Yandere William James Moriarty

It would all start with boredom.

You and William had just gotten married.

Even if you don't really want it.

And this would really limit your life.

Because William wouldn't want to let you out of the mansion.

The world is a dirty place…

Way too dirty.

And you're way too pure.

But William would also be really busy.

He simply wouldn't have enough time for you.

And he would be very sorry for this.

It doesn't bother you much.

Instead, you spend your time exploring the mansion.

Looking for an escape route.

As well as spending time with other people in the manor.

You especially get along well with James and Moran.

You would spend a lot of time together.

William would notice that.

At first, he would be happy for you to adapt to the life of the manor.

This never really bothers him too much.

But sometimes…

If he had made time for you but you would rather spend it with others.

He would have to admit to feeling a little jealous.

However, William would try to understand you.

And stay sane.

But if the situation requires it, he is ready to remind you who you married ;)

[favficbirthdays]

Happy Birthday

William James Moriarty (1st April 1855)

Moriarty The Patriot

[igot2137problems]

It's my pleasure to meet you. My name is William James Moriarty. 🔪🎩

❗like/reblog if you save/use❗

[shall-we-die]

{Happy 100+}

Thank you for all the support and love you have given to me & my blog. I was happily writing every post during all these days ❤

📍Requests for this list are closed.

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{NSFW Alphabet}

╞•⊰❖⊱•═══•༻💋༺•═══•⊰❖⊱•╡

↬[Fandom(s)]•⊰ {Obey Me! || Moriarty the Patriot || Jujutsu Kaisen || Bungou Stray Dogs}࿐

↬[Warnings]•⊰ {NSFW... so yeah, MDNI}࿐

☰[Main list]•⊰ ──────┈┈┈─╮

╭─────┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈──────╯

╰┈➤Likes/Reblogs are appreciated࿐

╚•°💋༄•°══════════•⊰•°༄༚‌‌‌

[A]ftercare: What they're like after sex?

⇒ [Obey me!]: Diavolo (💋)

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[B]ody Part: Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's?

⇒ [Obey me!]: Lucifer (💋)

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[C]um: Anything to do with cum?

⇒ [Obey me!]: Simeon (💋)

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[D]irty Secret

⇒ [Jujutsu Kaisen]: Geto (💋)

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[E]xperience: How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?

⇒ [Jujutsu Kaisen]: Sukuna (💋)

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[F]avorite Position

⇒ [Moriarty the Patriot]: Sherlock (💋)

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[G]oofy: Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc?

⇒ [Bungo Stray Dogs]: Atsushi (💋)

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[H]air: How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.?

⇒ [Jujutsu Kaisen]: Yuji (💋)

┣━━━━━━━━━━━━━┅┅┅┄┄

[I]ntimacy: How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...?

⇒ [Moriarty the Patriot]: William (💋)

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[J]ack Off: Masturbation headcanon

⇒ [Bungo Stray Dogs]: Tetchou (💋)

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[K]ink: One or more of their kinks.

⇒ [Obey me!]: Solomon (💋)

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[L]ocation: Favorite places to do the do.

⇒ [Jujutsu Kaisen]: Nanami (💋)

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[M]otivation: What turns them on, gets them going?

⇒ [Obey me!]: Satan (💋)

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[N]O: Something they wouldn't do, turn offs

⇒ [Bungo Stray Dogs]: Chuuya (💋)

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[O]ral: Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

⇒ [Bungo Stray Dogs]: Dazai (💋)

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[P]ace: Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?...

⇒ [Moriarty the Patriot]: Albert (💋)

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[Q]uickie: Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.

⇒ [Bungo Stray Dogs]: Jouno (💋)

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[R]isk: Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.

⇒ [Bungo Stray Dogs]: Fyodor (💋)

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[S]tamina: How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...

⇒ [Obey me!]: Barbatos (💋)

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[T]oys: Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?

⇒ [Moriarty the Patriot]: Sebastian (💋)

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[U]nfair: How much they like to tease?

⇒ [Jujutsu Kaisen]: Gojo (💋)

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[V]olume: How loud they are,what sounds they make?

⇒ [Moriarty the Patriot]: Louis (💋)

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[W]ild Card: Random headcanon

⇒ [Obey me!]: Mammon (💋)

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[X]-Ray: Let's see what's going on in those pants.

⇒ [Jujutsu Kaisen]: Megumi (💋)

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[Y]earning: How high is their sex drive?

⇒ [Jujutsu Kaisen]: Inumaki (💋)

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[Z]ZZ: how quickly they fall asleep afterwards?

⇒ [Bungo Stray Dogs]: Akutagawa (💋)

[itsnotauthor]

“That's why we have to change it.” — William J. Moriarty.

[bed-wed-behead-your-fave]

William.J.Moriarty from Moriarty the Patriot