Sherlock with Moriarty's Younger Sister II

A/N: Sorry this took so long :') Tag/s: Fem!Reader, Familial Relationship, and maybe romance? maybe

william j moriarty x gn!reader. he's aging, but without you.

tags; short, you're dead btw, not proofread cause im lazy

a smart part of him will always wait for you to come back.

despite his logical mind, he can't help but hope—and so hope he does. hope is all he can do. most nights he's chasing the flickering shadow that is you in his dreams and by the mornings he'll wake up, rub his eyes, and let the tears flow. it's unfair, terribly so-the unfair proximity of dreams.

you are gone.

he misses you.

Delightful | William James Moriarty x Reader

Chapter Four

“So you found her wondering the streets all by herself ?” “Like I told you, we were on our way back and she was just stood there in the middle of the road.” Moran states, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall.

“She seemed like she was in distress.” Fred states, Moran nodding at the younger lads words.

“Did you see the rather odd clothing she was wearing. I wouldn’t want to jump to conclusions but-“There’s a chance that’s she’s in danger.” Moran interrupts Fred. Not that Fred minded but interrupted, the young man was finding it hard to fully detect the situation at hand.

“I’m not particularly sure what exactly is going on with her but it’s definitely something out of the ordinary.”

“There will be clothes brought for her tomorrow. But we will not question her tonight. Whatever has happened must have been stressful enough.” Albert states.

“What ?” The young blonde man questions, turning towards his eldest brother. “She can’t possibly stay here ?Even so this hasn’t even been discussed with William yet.”

“William is in his study, Louis.” Albert sighs. “You and I both know he’ll be there all night.” Yet despite his brothers words Louis is still not convinced.

“You needn’t worry. William will be informed before the morning.”

“Otherwise he’ll think someone’s broken in.” Moran teases, keeping the tension at bay.

Frustrated but keeping his composure, Louis abandons the conversation by taking the cups present on the table, leaving with the excuse of washing the dishes before bed.

“I’ll be off then.” Moran smirks, grabbing his coat, already heading towards the door. “The hour is late.” Albert reminds him.

“I’ll be back before Louis opens the curtains in the morning.” He states, and with that the Colonel is off down to a familiar setting.

You’re located on the second floor, quite the distance from the ground. You’ve no longer got the will to pull at the door anymore. It’s completely useless.

Unless the window. By chance after a few tugs, the window comes loose and opens and a burst of dust comes flying at your face. “Does nobody clean these poxy windows !” You cough, using your hand as fan to wave off the dust.

If you somehow had a drink on you perhaps this situation would be slightly more easy to deal with but no life just has to be so strange. The distance from the window and the ground is too high, the only suitable solution is to jump from each window sill and-

“Fuck it.” You sigh. “I’ll just have to limp down the road.”

Moran found himself more pleased then ever. Here he sat what others would call gambling where he simply put it as “teasing the imbeciles” while the barmaids looked over, eager to converse with him. Typical. The men around Moran groaned and whined as their losing streak continued.

Your eyes almost shine with stars at the sight of a pub just down the road.

You’re not exactly sure how long you’ve been walking-well slightly limping down the streets but all of that flew out of your mind the second you reach it.

Shakingly pushing the heavy door open, you do not hesitant to head straight to the bar. So determined that you miss the stares and looks sent straight your way.

Although you do not miss the deliberate loudness of a few drunks in the back.

“Where’s her skirt ?!” “Why she’s underdressed !” Tilting your head back Your brows furrow in confusion before turning around. But before you can get a word out you’re practically being thrown out. “I ain’t serving you miss.” He states, shaking his head as he cleans a glass.

“You want to be served, come bring your husband.” Some men around snicker.

At the noise of the laughter, it is only then Moran, looks up and at that he’s shocked.

“Pardon me, chaps.” He nods to the men yet his eyes remain only on you as he stands up heading swiftly over to you. Unfortunately for them, the barmaids are the ones to notice the Colonel stare to you. “Husband ?” You laugh. “Oh you need to get a grip-

“What are you doing here ?” Moran groans, already taking your arm.

“What are you doing here ?!” Your eyes widen as you turn to face him.

“We’re leaving.” He states it more to the barman as he holds out his hand, pardoning you.

“I didn’t even get a drink !” You cry, shoving the Colonel off your arm, spinning around to glare at him as he practically drags you outside.

“Tough. How did you even leave the manor you rascal ?!”

“I’d do anything for a little glass !” You state, glaring up at the Colonel frustrated face. “Some willpower.” He mumbles, already turning away. “Come on then. We’re going back.” “No !” You yell, forgetting that it’s quite late at night.

“Huh ?” He turns to look back. Just then he faces you with an uncertain look in his dark eyes. “Go.” He simply states. “What ?” Your eyes suddenly filled with anxiousness. “If you have some other place to be then go. I’d say you have a long way to walk by yourself late at night.”

He’s right. You’ve no one to follow but him. Even if you did have some place to go into late at night and who knows who else would be wandering the streets especially if you’re all alone.

“Look miss.” The man sighs, only now feeling somewhat sympathetic as he looks down to see your defeated expression as your eyes stare down at the concrete, head low in shame.

But before he can continue you cut in.

“I don’t understand. You with the others have only just met me ? Why are you helping me?” You look up to him. The hardship of the day is finally catching up with you. “It would be cruel not to help someone in need.” Your taken aback by his words and your widen eyes shows it all. Not once did you consider it being this way.

“I’ll go with you.” You state. “But only if you answer a really stupid question of mine first !” You’re so sure now. You need to know. “What year is it ?” You’re so scared of what the answer will be because only now you’re sure this isn’t a dream and yet you still have no idea how any of this has occurred. Not one bit.

“It’s 1879.” He states so obviously.

“You must really be fond of the drink.” He chuckles. “Or perhaps you really did hit your head hard back then.” He smirks.

“Wait !” You realise. The Colonel groans, clearing getting fed up with you already.

“I don’t even know your name ! Or the others !” You shake your head.

“Sebastian Moran and you are miss ?” He asks. “y/n.” You smile. “y/n.” He nods in confirmation. So his name is Sebastian. “And the young lad that was with you back then ?” You question. “Fred Porlock. He’s a quiet but good lad. The other two you met was Louis the blond gentlemen and his eldest brother, the head of the Moriarty manor Albert James Moriarty.” Well it seems that Moran was skilled at introducing people.

Moran, Fred, Louis and Albert.

“Wait. You said eldest brother right ?” So there’s a another Moriarty but why wasn’t he there just the few hours you were at the manor ? “William James Moriarty. He’s the second Moriarty brother.”

“William ?” You wonder. “How come I didn’t see him amongst the men bombarding me ?” You ponder, furrowing your brows. “No one was bombarding you !” He scoffs. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Hey !” You whine. “William is a maths professor. He’s quite busy with his teaching as of now. I’ll sure you’ll be introduced tomorrow.”

Despite your curiosity, you decide not to pry further. “Okay fine lead the wayyy.”You drag out your words, raising your arm forward.

“Just don’t walk too fast, Sebastian.” You sigh, attempting to keep up with the tall man who’s already steps a head of you.

“Don’t call me Sebastian.”

A/N: This was ALSO being difficult to post. Tumblr stop deleting my drafts please and thanks x

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Delightful | William James Moriarty x Reader

Chapter Two

“You fucking idiot.” You curse, slamming the charger onto the floor. For last several minutes or what rather felt like hours, you crouched down to the sockets desperately trying to charge your phone using that useless wire.

You’ve become so needy that you resorted to using the typical technique of wiggling the charger around in hoping it’d somehow work even if it’d result in loss of blood circulation due to the wire somehow tying around your wrist.

“I’m fed up with you.” You mutter to yourself. Pulling yourself up from the ground. You suppose it was time you needed to return to the town to buy a new charger. It was easy before not needing your phone while drunk as everything was spiralling and blurry clearly a phone was no use to you. But now you were…sober.

Wanting to escape the public while needing to be out in public seemed like a challenge quite like…yesterday.

But since it was still late morning and you’d rather do anything but sit with your own thoughts, you thought now would be the time to head out and seek out an insufferable charger. How convenient.

The town was calm and steady compared to the rush and turbulence of the previous evening. You weren’t however sure if that pleased you or not. It was easy to mix into a crowd, become lost and yet being completely sane with not physically feeling present. Yet right now it was completely opposite, you stood out more now with the lack of people despite the fact that everyone present was off living in their own world. It made your fingers twitch in nervousness. The anxiousness that being sober brought.

Eyeing down the shop before you, you were glad that you needn’t walk far into town to come across the shop. Despite the shop being modern the location was rather suspicious since either side of the small shop was an older shut down building barricaded by rotting walls. It didn’t seem to belong here.

Just as your fingertips touched the door a sudden noise emerged. A cry of a crow broke out. Next to the modern phone shop on the high brick wall stood the crow staring down at you.

Looking up, you tilt your head in wonder, brows furrowing as well.

Just then the stoic crow flew overhead you, his large ruinous wings spread.

Your head snaps turning as he fly’s behind you. He lands on the market stall.

Since when was the modern phone shop located just across from the markets ?

Eyeing the crow, your eyes lower the see the owner of said market stall to see who stands before it. Your eyes widen in surprise at the sight. The same quaint bygone woman from yesterday. Her small eyes gawking straight ahead. At you.

The more weary steps you took the more you felt as if though you were being chained and being tugged at, pulling you closer. You then come to the conclusion.

The crow was leading you away.

“We meet again.” You smile politely at the woman. “You must have me confused. I don’t know a woman like yourself.” The woman continues to stare. Confused, your head tilts to the side but you shake your head slightly. She’s an elderly woman, of course she wouldn’t exactly remember you. This is probably her hundredth encounter of the morning. Yet the woman doesn’t even attempt to recall who you are.

For the first time, your eyes glance down at the table of her stall to see what exactly the woman sells. Silver pendent necklaces placed down on silk sheets. They all showed a carved heart, many details placed in the necklaces. Your fingertips barely graze the necklaces when they’re suddenly snatched from her.

“If you are to seek one of these you must take this one, woman.”

There from her own pocket she pulls a necklace just like the others however there’s a clear difference. “A crow ?” You state, eyeing the bird who’s sharp eyes still stare you down. You subtly tilt your head at him almost as if you were challenging him.

The necklace contained fine details and 3D like as the crow and branches sprung out from the pendent of the necklace. Rather peculiar.

The urge to leave grows strong. “Why is this different from the rest ?” You also wanted to ask why said necklace was also in the elder’s pocket but you bite your tongue. The question seems to throw off the woman it as if though no one ever dared to question her despite the fact you were genuinely curious.

“It can be yours.” She dangles it in front of your face. Somehow you’re intrigued, this woman must make a fortune.

“How much-

“I don’t want money, woman !” She barks, snatching the necklace back. “Yours.. if you sign.” Almost as if it appeared from thin air a scroll like sheet is placed before stating some lines that you have no desire to read due the handwriting being cursive yet small and yet clear as day at the bottom stated signed.

“Is this some sort of receipt or something ?” You wonder, taking the pen from her frail hand. Without a second thought, you sign and suddenly as soon as you finish the sheet is abruptly taken from you before your eyes could even glance over the paper.

“Now !” The old woman shoves the necklace into your hands, practically pushing you away. “Best be off.”

Hesitantly, you turn going to walk away but not before looking back and noticing that the crow is now gone, nowhere to be seen and so you head back home away from the town.

You sat down on your unusually uncomfortable bed with your knees up to your chest staring down, lost in your thoughts. It was late evening about seven o clock as the sun was starting to set the sky bloomed of various shades of bright orange. Your eye catches sight of the necklace placed by at your feet.

The light from the window hitting it made it glow like a beacon.

“Why was there only one ?” You whisper, grabbing the necklace to observe it more closely. Your brows furrow in thought and then you decide. “Ah why not ?”

The necklace then is lad across your chest comfortable, your fingers already fidgeting with it. Attempting to find comfort, you slowly lay down adjusting yourself on the bed but-

“Shit !” You shout, practically jumping up.

“I forgot to buy that fucking charger !” You groan, tapping the side of your head in frustration. “Oh I give up !” You sigh, throwing yourself onto the bed.

Your eyes squeeze shut, hoping that slumber will take over.

A soft cooling breeze was present slowly pulling you awake from slumber. It didn’t take you that long to fall asleep after returning from anti climatic evening despite the encounters with the odd folk yet you couldn’t be surprised all walks of life were present in the town, even the strange ones.

Your eyes flutter some , turning your head to meet your soft pillow yet.. you don’t.

Confused you open your eyes to see..

concrete ?

Raising your head you squint looking around with eyes still adjusting to the rather obnoxious bright light.

“Mother ! The harlot’s legs are exposed !” A young voice cries out.

“Don’t look at such filth, dear.”

“What the fuck is going on ?” You sigh, rubbing your tired eyes.

“Mother the harlot’s talking to herself !”

“How strange… and she’s laying herself out open in the middle of the street. Come now dear, look away !”

Your eyes widen at the sight before you, it seemed like town but not the same.

No cars present, the place looks somewhat deserted and the people are…wearing formal suits and dresses ?

This has to be a dream. Last thing you remember was laying in bed

“I must be drunk.” Shaking, you stand to walking over to an old looking lamp post, you barley look up taking in the weird surrounding before shaking your head in shock, eyes glazed over.

“Am I in a dream ??!!” You cry out to a man passing by. The man scoffs, dragging his cane along as fixes his top hat, mumbling something about lower class imbeciles as he walks on yet you’re too frightened to try to understand what he means.

Looking down you take note that you’re still wearing the same sweatpants and top you wore before you fell asleep but now your knees are covered in dirt and the same goes for your sleeves.

Your hand subconsciously goes for your neck and there you feel-

“The necklace !” You gasp, tugging on it.

Clenching the necklace close you soon come to the realisation. This is not a dream. But then what is going on ?

What is happening and why is it happening ? Why you ?

Some time has passed, you’re not that positive as everything seems to be spiralling and not right. You’ve been wondering around the streets searching for an answer by to no avail. No help.

You cluelessly walk out to the middle of the somewhat empty road, looking back and forth not knowing where to go.

The later it got made you more nervous as to what the night would spring upon you.

As you stand contemplating what to do, a sudden noise a heard as you turn to look, your body completely freezes at the sight of… a carriage !

You shiver, shutting your eyes as you wait for impact but suddenly there’s none.

A arm grabs you at the last second and you’re dragged out from the road onto the pavement. Your chest feels tight as you sit on the ground, hoping to calm down.

Before you could even have the courage to face the heroic person who saved you from the carriage, your eyes set on the sky behind you. It looked the same bright orange sky as it did before you fell asleep and woken up…here.

“Are you alright there, miss ?” A deep voice broke you from your thoughts.

Still breathless, you turn to look up high at your saviour. There stood two men, well one to you looks younger possibly your age. He stands smaller and shorter than the other man who is your saviour.

Both men share dark hair yet this younger man stands out with a light blue scarf laying tightly around his neck.

You notice the older man seems to have styled his hair more, he wears gloves with a high collar on his black jacket.

Both their dark yet somewhat soft eyes stare you down and now it’s starting to feel slightly intimidating. Clearly not comfortable with the silence the man continues as the younger man remains silent yet still carefully eyeing you.

“You’ve got a bit of dirt on your cheek.” He rather states the obvious. He lends out his rather large hand and when you take it you’re thrown off just by how strong this man is as he pulls you to your feet.

Looking in between the two men, your breathing starts to become rapid once again and then it’s all too much.

“What the fuck ?!” You cry out, and just like that everything turns black.

You’ve passed out.

Before your unconscious body hits the ground, your saviour catch’s you and doesn’t hesitate to throw you over his shoulder, your arms dangle over his back, his hands securely placed on your thighs.

“Seems we’ve got a vulgar one here, Fred.” He smirks at the lad. “What are we gonna do aye ?” He practically asks himself as the lad remains quiet following your saviour as he now walks on his way.

“Why has she got pants on ?”

Delightful | William James Moriarty x Reader

Chapter One

“Ugh.” You groan, arm hanging off the rather small and rather falling apart sofa.

The rather small couch was usually more comfortable than this but then again you can’t recall the last time you slept on the couch instead of your own bed. Ah yes.

It slowly but surely was coming back to you. How you the previous night had gone out and found yourself drinking more than the average intake and then when you crawled your way back to your neglected apartment, you could barely find it in yourself to crawl to the puny bedroom. So here you lay some hours later with your clothes tossed about and your neck painfully stiff.

Taking a blind turn, suddenly you slip off the couch and fall flat onto the floor but of course not before smacking your head off the coffee table. “Ah !” You scream.

“Fucking bastard.” You groan, shakingly pulling yourself off the floor.

Squinting your eyes at the floor noticing your phone that was somehow not smashed to bits. Picking it up you see how the battery reads. One percent.

Just then. The screen goes black. Dead.

“Typical.” You scoff, heading to plug the but just then you froze. The charger-oh wait..the charger that was currently broken and not working.

“You know what ? Fuck you I don’t need you.” You sneer at the phone, throwing it onto the couch before making your way to the bedroom while of course tripping on last week’s laundry clothes on the way.

You can’t help but sigh at the scene.

An unmade bed that you said you’d make two days ago still remains untouched.

Pulling out a pair of grey sweatpants along with a plain black jumper from the cluster of clothing, you dress and before slipping by you catch yourself in the reflection.

A small but present bruise forming on the top left side of your forehead. Fantastic.

Time Skip.

The town’s busy streets remains packed and slightly chaotic. Many people gather round the local markets eager to see what awaits whether it be clothing or hand made crafts. Something you purposely came to see. “I should’ve brought a jacket.” You wince at the cool breeze as it passed by. By the sight of the orange sky It had already seemed to have become late afternoon and yet the town showed no sight of slowing down.

Almost sleepily like walking, someone roughly pushes by, hitting against your shoulder. You halt, turning your head slightly to eye the man.

“Tch !” The man grunts. “Watch where you’re headed !” At that the idiot scurries off.

“You watch where you’re going !” You call back, rolling your eyes at the unaware bloke. “Dickhead.” You mutter, picking up your pace.

But just then you suddenly stop . Just down the road, exactly straight ahead from you were a museum that you had once heard off but had never actually thought to visit. Whether it’d be due to hangovers or not that didn’t matter now.

Maybe you should-

“Head in.”

You gasp at the unexpected voice. Turing around to detect the unfamiliar tone you spot an elderly woman, by your guess possibly in her mid seventies and who was quite short, standing behind a market stand. You can’t help but note that she’s on her own.

Your brows raise in confusion and yet this seems to amuse the woman. “You were eyeing that ol’ museum weren’t you, little lady ?” The old woman smiles but yet it doesn’t look natural as despite her age, no smile lines where present. How-

“Odd.” She states, slowly but surely, making her way around the stand. “You should go on and have a little look in there.” She points with her index finger that was littered in rings. “You’ll never know what you’ll discover.” She nods.

“I…see.” You frown, slightly at a loss for words. Who is this-

“Woman.” The elderly woman barks with a stern tone.

Your eyes widen at her change. “You ought to go there now.. before you’re stuck.” Without another word, you head straight on down to the museum, without daring to look back.

Your steps echoed off the marble ground as you shyly walked closer to the grand painting. Out of all the paintings present in the secluded area you found yourself in, you couldn’t help but be attracted to this particular piece. Perhaps the fact that it was the largest painting in the room didn’t help. Every step you took closer you couldn’t help but take in every detail. Despite the signature being clear as day it was hard to pinpoint the year.

You could assume it was Victorian era due to the gloomy London like landscape.

“Fascinating isn’t it ?” A quiet voice spoke.

Your head snapped to the right at the unfamiliar voice. There stood a man who was awfully close to you considering he’s a stranger. He stood rather tall, furrowed brows with inhumanly dark eyes staring down at your confused state. The man also appeared dressed well as your curious eyes eyed him from head to toe. The man wore a dark indigo suit.

Your brows furrow in sudden irritation.

“Who the hell are yo-

“Wouldn’t it be delightful to just go there and leave this exhausting life of ours ?” The man questions, not hesitating to cut you off. “I suppose.” You mutter, turning around to suddenly note that the museum was suddenly abandoned. No one in sight.

Except for you and this odd fellow.

“You suppose ?” He grins.

“How delightful.”

“Assuming you’re referring to time travel or what not, I wouldn’t be mad going back to the seventies, I suppose everything was flares and all but couldn’t be all that bad could it ?” You chuckle. You’re not sure why now you felt the need to state it but yet it’s not as if you were the one to suddenly start the rather unusual conversation. You look around, expecting to face the man and yet like everyone, he’s no where to be found. “What the fuck ?” You mutter, raising a brow.

“Ma’am.” You hear from the right. Looking over you see a security guard not far looking rather agitated. “The museum closes in five minutes.” “Oh.” You sigh. You were barely here. You couldn’t help but think this was your “lesson” for having too much to drink as of last night. Or the last few weeks. “Apologies, sir.” You sincerely state, already taking your leave.

“I’ve gotta head home.” You moan, wrapping your arms around yourself as you sluggishly make your way back. Yet, whether you’d be hungover or not, you fail to notice the lurking presence just stood a few feet away.

“And home you shall.”

lover of mine

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

if you ever had to give a mathematician a gift, a set of hagoromo chalk would be the perfect choice. known as the "rolls royce" of chalks, the "steinway" of writing tools, hagoromo is a luxury that many would go to great lengths to obtain. the same chalks that turn every mastermind into old folks fighting for the last fish. it's feather-smooth writing, even a mathematician transforms into an artist, the blackboard becoming their canvas.

that was exactly what you were planning on buying for your professor. you’d often notice how he relied on the university’s cheap chalk, constantly wiping his hands to rid them of chalk dust. you’d watch his expensive vest get coated by the fine powder, almost resembling a sugar doughnut.

you’d even gone as far as offering to clean the board after class—it just didn’t seem fair for your professor to teach for hours and then clean up the mess. determined to make a change, you resolved to buy him a set of hagoromo chalks. you spent months saving up every bit of your pocket money, but even the smallest set was beyond your budget.

“why are we in the market in this blazing heat?” your best friend alvin leroy groaned

“it will be quick! i just need to buy a nice cloth and some hagoromo chalks!”, you replied, pulling him closer to avoid losing him in the crowd.

“wait hold on- did i hear you say hagoromo chalks? why on earth would you need that?” alvin stopped dead in his tracks.

you looked back at your friend’s confused face. he proceeds to drag you both away from the bustling crowd, into a quieter corner of the market. you looked up to alvin who stood firm as a statue, clearly not planning to move until you confessed. with a sigh, you lowered your head, finding comfort in staring at your shoes.

“i want to buy it for.. professor….. william”, you muttered under your breath 

“professor william?!” alvin nearly shouted before you clapped a hand over his mouth in panic.

“don’t shout it out loud! urgh why did i bring you?”, you retracted back your hand 

wait... don’t tell me you have a crush on professor william? no way, [name]! you? crushing on professor will—hey, wait up!”

you bolted away, your face flushed as you tried to hide your embarrassment. for the rest of the day, alvin declared himself the “captain” of his newfound ship, teasing you relentlessly until you finally parted ways. the next day, he was waiting for you with a... board?

“alvin what are you doing??”, you shouted as you ran over and pushed the board down.

“i’m having a voting poll on my ship name! i’m debating between will[name] and [name]liam!”, alvin grinned, folding the board back into his bag. 

“i don’t like him that way”, you grumbled, throwing the nastiest side eye on him 

despite this antics, alvin's smile didn’t hold the same meaning. there was a hint of something else behind it. deep in his heart, resentment began to spread as he let you drag him into the classroom.

even during your maths class, you weren’t left in peace. your professor walked in with his neatly pressed coat draped casually over his arm, which he placed on his chair. he looked around the empty hall, spotting you and alvin seated at the front.

“i never thought i’d see mr. leroy arrive on time," william joked, pulling down the extra blackboard.

“hey!- oh professor, [name] has something”, alvin nudged you with a not-so-subtle grin

“[last name]? how can i assist you? having trouble with yesterday’s theorem?” william asked, setting his board at last 

he turned to face you both, his expression patient but with a hint of curiosity. he slowly walked closer to your seat, standing not too far from you. alvin gently pulled your chair back and gave you a small pat. you turned over to the boy and wished to slap off the wide smirk he showed 

“professor moriarty... i’ve noticed how you often leave with a rather... dusty coat,” you began softly as you stood up 

“i thought it was unfair for you to put in so much time to teach us- especially alvin”, you snickered remembering his test score 

“hey—” 

“i decided to buy some new chalks for you! it’s pretty popular amongst mathematicians”, you continued 

taking a closer step, you could smell his woody perfume, tinged with a hint of citrus. never in a million years did you expect to stand this close. alvin’s voice died down, watching the subtle tension and nerve you held to yourself 

you presented your professor a neatly wrapped cloth with his name engraved. william’s usually sharp and calculating eyes soften by the gesture. he took the gift from your hand to carefully feel the soft cloth. 

“thank you [last name]. it was rather unexpected but i am flattered”, william’s voice portrayed his genuine gratitude 

the rest of the day went on as normal. students rush into the class feeling dreadful but are left with joy after william promises not to give any homework. later that evening, william walks back to the moriarty estate feeling happier than before 

“you look like you outwitted sherlock holmes” albert welcomed his brother with a sip from his glass 

louis glanced up to see his brother indeed looked in a good mood. he watches william settle his satchel down on a nearby sofa before he sits himself. his lips created a small smile as he looked back at albert. he pulls out the small present he receives, letting it rest on the table in front 

“one of my students gave me a set of chalks as a gift for always coming home like a baker” " william replied with his rare gentle humour 

“that is rather…” 

“considerate. you don’t often see students go out of their way like that” " albert finished louis’s hanging sentence 

louis leaned forward, wanting to see more of the chalk. adding a small comment on the expensive gift, he questioned his brother about the owner. even albert expressed a wide-eyed smile, listening to william refusing to reveal your name 

while on the other hand, alvin stared at the ceiling of his dorm, replaying the events of the day. a heavy heart is what he would describe his feelings. he tried brushing off his obvious feelings of jealousy. he needed to ensure his ‘ship’ wasn’t sailing too fast, even if he was the ‘captain’. 

from the future to the past.

# tags: headcanon; strangers to friends & strangers to lovers; time travel; hacker!reader; soft romance; a bit of comedy; sfw

author’s note: hey anonnie, sorry for waiting so long! thank you! hope you like it :)!

↘ Your latest invention turned out to be the biggest and by far the most shocking success of your twenty-something life.

↘ And at the same time your greatest and most dangerous curse, because the last virtual time exchange program you created, which was made by the initiative of restoring old databases, took you… several hundred years back, to be more precise, to the end of the 19th century and on top of that to London city.

↘ You looked like a recluse among beautifully dressed ladies, children in clothes with long frills and gentlemen with tall hats and gold-trimmed coats.

↘ Your bright jeans, black sweatshirt with a huge hood and hair tied up in a loose bun were a comic image among the dressed-up nobility or even less wealthy townspeople. Your appearance and the fear in your eyes caught the attention of Albert and Louis Moriarty, who extended a helping hand to you without asking for anything else.

↘ At the MI6 hideout William spoke first, not convinced of your presence among them. At first he thought you were the enemy and wanted information about their group, but then when he started asking you about various names and situations that seemed logical to him, your expression didn’t become distrustful or deceitful in the slightest. He realized that this is not your world.

↘ On that day you told everything about yourself and the future that awaits humanity, as well as about their fame in later centuries. You told about the actions of Sherlock Holmes and the Moriarty family, and also that in the 21st century many books, series and films about their lives were created. Of course, Sherlock was thrilled and asked you about everything, and then he got closer to you than anyone in MI6.

↘ For others it was strange that he liked and trusted the other person in this way, and for some it was completely normal – after all, you were a person always smiling and really cute in your actions.

↘ Sherlock quickly fell in love with you and became your partner (not only at work, but also in life).

↘ Over time: days, weeks and months, you forgot about your previous life. You gladly accepted the help of Louis and Miss Moneypenny, who helped you dress up so that you fit perfectly with the other members of MI6, while Sebastian and Fred, with a little help from James Bond, created a new name for you and your new past, so that no one has not developed unfounded suspicions of you.

↘ You also made great contact with Jack, who replaced your father in these difficult times, and with Von Herder, who became your closest friend. You two got along great, and although he did weird things sometimes and had a dangerous passion for firearms, you really had a good time and loved playing cards and reading books in your spare time, and teasing William or Albert who always shook their heads when they saw the two of you.

↘ Zack acted like your second father, although he was definitely shyer than the others, while Henry and Sherlock’s male sibling were like big brothers to you. The latter felt great respect for you, the more that you straightened his real, younger brother a bit, and at the same time made him much more serious and became a good helper of the Moriarty brothers.

↘ Your manual skills have been very useful to MI6; even if at first the middle brother just wanted to use you to help him with his own plans, over time he really liked you and realized that even though you feared for your current life, you worked hard to help them and be their real friend.

↘ You continued to create your inventions as a hobby, and your list of later achievements included the creation of the first light switch and lamp, and even the first screen with the ability to save data on it. For your entire group, you created the first makeshift telephone with the ability to receive short calls, and when you had a little more time than normal, you created more inventions that benefited not only MI6, but all of England, and then the world.

↘ You wrote it all down in a notebook, which after many years found its way to the right people, and they published it, making MI6 famous all over the world, starring you, and your romance with Sherlock Holmes became one of the best-loved romance novels of those years.

↘ Such was your new life, and your relationship with people from the officially nonexistent sixth branch of the British Military Intelligence.

"Will you be my Valentine?" + "Try that again and I swear, I'll be Cupid just to shoot you with arrows," + "Oh god... Why are you here?"

William James Moriarty

Tag/s: PhantomThief!Fem!Reader, Longer Than Expected (800+ words)

"Oh, dear..." William muttered, seeing the Moriarty heirloom missing from its case.

"And this happened only last night?" Albert asked Louis, who hesitantly nodded.

"My apologies... I should have triple-checked everything was secure before we left..."

"No, it's not your fault, Louis," William reassured, analyzing the room.

"Everything was in place. The perpetrator managed to sneak through every security measure we had..." he muttered, not seeing a single footprint.

"Even with Mr. Herder's technology?" Louis questioned, making William nod.

"Interesting," Albert chuckled, looking around the room.

"So, it was a perfect crime?"

"Almost," William knelt on the floor, seeing short strands of hair and droplets of blood on the floor.

"But I believe we have found our phantom thief,"

"Miss (L/N), it is marvelous you could come," William smiled as you stepped into the manor, full noble woman attire.

" Of course, Mister William. It's my pleasure," you courtly smiled with a bow.

"Only a fool would turn down an invite from the Moriartys," you added, making William smirk for half a second.

"Yes, well... I was hoping we could discuss some things over tea," William innocently probed, making you quirk your head.

"Is it about the auction for next week?" you asked as William walked to you.

"No, not exactly," William answered, tracing his hand against your hat and hair.

"I see you are trying a new look,"

"O-Oh, yes...!" you smiled, flustered.

"I thought it would be a nice change of pace," you added, making William smile.

"It looks refreshing on you,"

"Oh, my... That is terrible," you gasped, hearing how someone broke into the Moriarty manor and stole their precious heirloom.

"I do hope everyone was okay,"

"Yes, no one got injured, thankfully..." William reassured, leaning back in his seat.

"Well... All except for you, miss thief," he probed, making you pause.

"Whatever do you mean, Mister William?" you questioned, keeping your innocent facade.

"The thief from last night got a small cut close to their head, I assume," William explained, pointing at the side of his head.

"And I believe your new hairstyle is a result of it, along with your hat," he added, making you cover your mouth with your fan.

"I believe that is too shallow of evidence to accuse me of a crime, Mister William,"

"Then it will be all right if you take it off? Or at least part your hair?" William questioned, making you chuckle.

You looked to the side as you felt the presence of someone, Louis, you assume, along with the eyes of the rest of the residents.

"They weren't kidding when they called you a genius," you sighed in defeat, removing your hat and letting your hair fall, revealing the cut on your head.

"So," you crossed your legs as you leaned back in your chair.

"What now? Are you going to arrest me?"

"Quite the contrary," William smiled, making you raise a brow.

"I would like to recruit you,"

"She rejected your offer?"

"It would seem so," William chuckled as he and Louis walked along the manor.

"However, she did return the heirloom," William reassured, showing the jewelry in his hand.

"Then... What do we do?" Louis asked, weary of having you know their operations.

"Simple, Louis..." William smiled, looking back at Louis,

"We wait,"

After that meeting with William, you noticed he would always be within arm's reach when you were socializing, which does not help since most women try to grab his attention.

Even during your heists, William would mess with you, playing tricks and making it harder to escape undetected.

But nothing you couldn't handle, and he knows.

It also didn't help that his newfound interest in you made your parents think he was a potential suitor, making you both meet more often.

"Oh god..." you muttered as you saw William waiting for you, "Why are you here?" you sighed as he walked up to you.

"Is this a bad time?" he teased, making a vein pop on your forehead.

"Kind of, yeah..." you muttered, ignoring him as you continued your heist.

"Why did you get past the guards?"

"Same way as you,"

You rolled your eyes as you avoided the rest of the guards, William closely behind you.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again... No." you insisted, grabbing your score.

"So, if you don't mind-" William suddenly held your hand, putting something in it, making you jump back.

"...Try that again, and I swear... I will shoot you," you threatened, but he only smiled.

"Your parents asked me to give it to you," he explained, making you raise a brow and open it:

It was a ball invite for Valentine's Day.

"Oh, no..." you grimaced, seeing the lovey-dovey design.

"Yes... Even I am inclined to say it is too much," William sighed, fixing his tie.

"However, the host specified that we must say these to our dates," William cleared his throat as he walked up to you, making you step back and shake your head.

"Will you be my Valentine?"

Caught making out

William James Moriarty

A/N: And this is the last for the Valentine's event, thank you, everyone! 🥰 Tag/s: Established Relationship Warning/s: Suggestive? Mention of Hickeys

"Hmm..." you muttered, staring at the variety of Valentine's gifts on display, analyzing each one.

You sighed in defeat as you stepped back.

'It's no use... I can't think of a way to surprise Will...' you begrudgingly thought, remembering how all your old attempts to fluster your boyfriend failed.

Since you two started dating, William has never failed to tease you and make your face turn red, whether in private or with other people present.

You tried to do the same, but he was always ten steps ahead.

At this point, even just a little startled expression would be enough.

"If you keep staring like that, the chocolate's gonna melt," Bonde warned as he patted your head, making you turn to him.

"I'm sure Will-kun will like any gift you give him," he reassured with a teasing grin, making your face flush as you removed his hand from your head.

"The chocolate's for everyone," you reminded with an awkward cough, making Bonde roll his eyes.

"Right... That's why we're on our third department store for the day," Bonde added as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders with a smirk.

"Haha... Yeah... Thanks again for coming with me,"

"Don't mention it! Besides, you promised me you'd buy me that new perfume, remember?" he reminded, walking up to one of the stalls with various colognes and perfumes.

"Yes, yes..." you chuckled, looking at the selection as Bonde started trying on some of the samples.

As you continued to look through the store for Bonde's perfume, an idea popped into your head.

'That could work...!' you thought as you rushed to Bonde.

"Hey, can you help me pick out a perfume?" you asked, catching him by surprise.

"Sure, but why? Are you buying one for Will-kun?" you shook your head in response,

"No, it's for me. I have an idea,"

'All right!' you smiled as you took out the perfume from the bag, testing its spray before the surprise.

"(Y/N)? The meeting is about to start," William called out as he walked into your shared bedroom, making you hide the perfume behind you as you turned to him.

"Okay! I'll be out in a minute," you innocently replied, making him raise a brow as he walked up to you, making you step back.

"What are you hiding?" he asked with a knowing smile, making you nervously laugh.

"It's just the perfume Bonde and I bought," you answered honestly, showing him the bottle.

"But the real thing smelled different from the samples we tried," you added, spraying some into the air.

"It smells off..."

Curious, William leaned into the spot you sprayed and smelled the perfume.

"I don't think-" you gently held his chin and kissed his lips, feeling your face flush.

William pulled away as he looked at you in surprise, making you step back and look at him for a reaction.

"Pfft," he quickly covered his mouth and turned away, making you furrow your brows.

"It didn't work!?" you asked in exasperation, making William chuckle.

"Well... I wouldn't say that, my love," he replied, showing his cheeks flushing pink.

"Ah-" you muttered, letting out a sigh.

"Fine... I'll take it as a win," you murmured with an exhausted smile, making William lightly laugh.

"All right, let's go to the meeting-" as you were about to leave the room, William grabbed your hand and pulled you to his chest.

"Will? We're gonna be late," you reminded, seeing a mischievous smile on his lips.

"We still have a few minutes to spare," he reassured, wrapping an arm around your waist as he kissed you, his free hand laying on the back of your head as he deepened the kiss.

"Did you truly think you could pull a stunt like that without consequences?" he whispered against your lips before kissing you again.

"Where are they?" Sebastian grumbled, looking around the meeting room for you and William.

"I wonder..." Bonde thought out loud, trying to piece together your plan for the perfume.

"Do you know why Mr. William and Mx. (Y/N) are late?" Fred asked innocently, making Bonde grin.

"I have an idea..." he replied, getting out of his seat and leaving.

"And where are you going?"

"To see if I'm right!" Bonde answered as he headed straight for your and William's bedroom, getting ready to kick the door open and announce to the whole manor that you two were late and see why.

"Now that we're all present..." William started the meeting casually as you sat in the very corner of the room.

Steam was practically coming out of you as you hid behind your scarf, hoping to hide the hickeys William happily gave you.

"Why the hell were you two late?" Sebastian whispered to you, making your hide further into the scarf.

"I don't want to talk about it..." you replied, hoping the curious eyes of everyone would leave you.

"So, I guess your plan worked?" Bonde asked with a grin, making you flush and lightly hit him.

"That was not my plan!" you corrected, making him laugh.

"What was?" Fred whispered, making you hide behind your hands in horror.

"Can we please focus on the meeting...?"

—memories• William J. Moriarty

Precious {William James Moriarty}

A/n: I'm so sorry I took so long to write this but I had trouble with like inspiration and shit so there you go I hope you like it @ashllleyyy

Pairings: William x f!reader

Warnings: description of wounds but as far as I am concerned other than that it's good

Majestic. Those were the words William chose in order to describe the performance he and his brothers just watched at Drury Lane.

Louis, as odd as it sounds, had came across an article at the newspaper and he was thrilled to say the least. That was how he decided to buy tickets to The Phantom of the Opera for him and his two beloved brothers. Even though Albert had been a bit reluctant to agree due to all the work he had, he eventually said yes. Surprisingly enough, William had accepted the proposal almost if not immediately.

So there they were, leaving the Drury Lane building after the performance had ended. The ending scene was still playing in William's head as they were walking down the stairs.

Usually, like all nobles, they would have a carriage waiting for them outside the building but William had insisted they walked back to the house they were staying at in London. He hadn't given an explanation but Louis knew, better than anyone, that his brother wanted nothing more than to gaze the night sky.

As they turned left and entered a narrow alleyway, the three brothers stopped walking. It was Albert who had first heard the muffled cries and groans coming from somewhere near them and it was Louis that first noticed it.

You, the star of the play, laying barely unconscious on the street. Other than the name of the character you played, Catherine Daaé, your real name was a mystery to them but no matter the case, they rushed towards you. It didn't take long to understand that you were badly injured, with a stab wound on your stomach and since no one was around to do anything besides them, the three men carried you with them to their house.

Without waking up the other residents of the estate, Louis, Albert and William carried you to the guest room at the end of the hallway. Louis took it upon himself to take care of you and your wounds since calling a doctor this late at night would have led to many disastrous results. Thankfully your wound wasn't deep and only required a couple of stitches.

Judging by how tired you were last night and the fact that you were wounded, Louis was surprised to see that you were awake when he entered your room the next morning. He was carrying a tray with tea and some biscuits he had made himself and was planning on waking you up but the last part of the plan had already been covered.

“Good morning.” He gave you a kind smile which you did not return.

The expression on your face gave everything away: you were frightened and rightfully so. You were in a stranger's house, wounded.

Louis chose to remain quiet and after setting the tray in front of you, he left and went straight to his brother's office. Maybe William could handle it better. But William was a bit busy at the moment so the next option was Albert who gladly accepted.

“Thank you.” You mumbled as soon as Albert was done explaining the timeline of events.

“Since our side of the story is covered, I think it would be fair if you also told us what happened. It's not everyday we find an opera star unconscious after her performance.” Albert took a sip of his tea.

“Well as you could clearly tell, I was stabbed. I didn't see who did it and I certainly don't know why but it happened.” You replied, fondling the hem of the white satin bedsheets.

“I see.” William entered the room and after introducing himself to you he took upon the questioning since Albert had received an emergency letter from Mycroft. “Do you think it is possible for one of your fans to have done such a thing?”

“No.” You said after a few moments of careful thinking. “There had been some sort of an argument when the casting for the play was taking place.” You continued a bit taken aback by how carefully William was listening to what you were saying.

“A jealous cast member?”

“More like a furious partner. You see, a fellow cast member of mine wanted to play Christine since her fiancé was set to play Erik, the phantom.” You paused to catch your breath. “He became enraged when I got the part. It wouldn't surprise me if he was the one.”

“Hmm.” William's hand moved to his chin and his red eyes focused on the floor. “I'll look into it if that's okay.” You nodded your head almost immediately. “I would advise you stayed here until your wound is healed.”

“Oh no I couldn't-”

“I insist, it's the least we can do for the excellent performance you gave us last night.”

To be completely honest with you, William could have found a better excuse to make you stay and he knew it. But he couldn't help it, as cliché as it sounds he was amazed by your beauty and of course your voice. And during your one week stay in the Moriarty manor he got to hear you sing.

When you finally left he found himself missing you.

Oh yes, you.

He missed everything, you singing to train your voice, the long walks you would take together at the garden Fred was oh so beautifully taking care of, the late night conversations you both had about different theatre plays with you tucked in your bed and him sitting at the edge of it, teacup in hand. He missed all of it.

So when you left he found himself buying books about Shakespeare and in a matter of days he had read most of his plays. But it was pointless. You weren't around to discuss them with him. And oh did he long for those late night conversations, he wanted to tell you everything about what he had read, from Romeo and Juliet to Macbeth.

And so two weeks passed. As far as William was aware, you busied yourself with a new play and he had his plan on taking down the nobles to set in motion, besides his job as a professor.

He didn't know how much he longed for love until he met you and he hated himself for it. He hated it because he had already planned everything out, he knew how the whole thing, his whole plan, was going to end and for the first time, that was the night you left, he found himself almost backing out. However, he immediately returned to his senses and continued working.

“Brother...” Louis opened the door to William's office. “You have a visitor.”

The youngest Moriarty brother could barely hide his smile and it was only natural. During your stay in the manor you had been of great company to him as well.

“Let them in please.” William set his pen down and waited patiently.

The moment you walked in, he almost threw his chair back and ran towards you. But he kept his cool and actually stood up quite calmly and reached out his hand for you to shake.

“How is the play going?” He offered you his seat as he sat down at the chair meant for guests in front of his desk.

“Wonderful.” You giggled. “We're putting Romeo and Juliet up.”

His heart clenched a bit at the sound of that. You were beautiful and talented enough to play Juliet but this somehow...he almost reminded him of you and him, how he was going to die wether you ended up as a couple or not.

“William...” His attention shifted back to you and you swore you saw stars in his eyes the moment his name left your lips. “I have grown quite fond of you.”

He was taken aback. Of course he knew you weren't shy, for god's sake you were an opera singer, but had you always been this straightforward? He didn't know but he liked it.

“So if the feeling is mutual-”

“It certainly is my dear.” He chuckled and reached out for your hand. “It certainly is.”

We Can Make This Work (W.J.M)

Genre: hurt/comfort, slight angst, slight fluff mostly towards the end, arranged marriage au!, listen idk what else this will contain cause I just got the idea (again at 3:53 am)

Pairings: William James Moriarty x fem!reader

A/n: you're in for a wild ride if you read this, I started writing it at 3:53 am and it's currently 5:32 am rip my sleep

Btw requests are open for anyone who is interested

I also uploaded a part two upon request

It would have been a lovely day at the manor; no really, the birds were singing, the flowers had bloomed as it was early spring, there was a slight breeze that made the leaves dance...everything would have been perfect if your two older siblings hadn't set you up for an arranged marriage.

Well it was a job mostly carried out by your older sister, the idea and all, but the man had been picked by your older brother to whom you always favoured slightly.

“Brother, please I beg of you-”

“Oh stop it.” Your sister stepped in before your brother could say anything. “Just take this opportunity and make this work. It will do you good, maybe get your mind off this archaeologist business you're so looking forward to.”

Was this done out of pure love for you? Surely not. If it had been out of love your sister would agree on sending you to Egypt to help with the searches there, she would help you achieve your dream of being an archaeologist. Of course it wasn't common for a woman at a time like this to get involved with men's jobs but you were willing to give it a try. Besides, you had already send a letter to Cambridge University that wouldn't go unnoticed due to the amazing reputation your family had in England.

“Brother.” You noted his every move. It was only natural that after your parents' deaths the heir of the family would be your brother so at the end of the day he was the one to have the last word.

“I am sorry but it's-”

“I don't want to hear anymore...” You left his office almost disappointed.

You couldn't remember one time your brother hadn't sided with you. Convincing your father to sign you up for archery because he had seen the way you looked at him every time he practiced? Done. Signing the letter that requested you attended Cambridge university? Done. Buying you books about ancient civilizations? Done. Getting the family tailor to make you pants so you could be more comfortable while practicing your future profession? Done. Really, you just had to say the word and he would do it but only when that word walked in logical lines. So if had been a shock to you when he had agreed to the whole arranged marriage thing despite knowing that any day now, the response from the university would arrive.

So when you walked inside the dining room that night you were doing it out of respect for him and him only. You weren't on good terms with your sister anyway. And when you smiled at your new husband, math professor at Durham University, William James Moriarty, it was out of pure respect for him. And when you walked down the aisle to marry a man you had talked to only three times it was out of respect.

William had moved in the manor the day after the wedding and had informed your brother that due to his line of work he would most probably leave in a week so he could return at his post as a math professor, fully aware that you wanted nothing to do with him. He didn't want you to move in with someone you didn't want to and stay away from your family.

You hadn't even spent your first night together since you had purposely fallen asleep in your own room before anyone could say anything.

However you couldn't avoid the problem more than once.

“So this is how it is going to be...” You were currently sitting at your side of the bed, contemplating whether you should lay down or stand up and leave. Your back was turned at the blond haired male.

“I suppose.” You could practically hear him smile if that was possible.

William had been wearing the same smile as you ever since the day you met. He hadn't told you anything but you could only assume you were being the same burden to him as he was to you.

“Well, it can't be helped. If you want us to live peacefully, we will have to set some rules.”

“Is that a threat my dear?” Even though his eyes weren't on you but on the book he was reading, he knew you had turned around to look at him.

“Oh hardly. Those rules are simple. The side you're currently on is your side of the bed and the other one is mine. We are not to speak to eachother unless needed and we will only act as husband and wife when on formal events.” You removed the robe that was covering your shoulders and placed it carefully at your side of the bed. “If you want, you can add more rules.”

“No.” His scarlet eyes left the book to meet yours. “I think I'm covered by your rules.”

“Then it's a deal. Goodnight William.”

“Goodnight to you as well.”

The week passed by quite easily and quickly. You and William barely interacted with eachother though you had silently picked up on habits the other person had. For example, how William always read a math book before going to bed, enjoying his vacation as a newlywed and how you had trouble sleeping.

It was something William had noticed the first night you had spent together, sharing the same bed but he hadn't commented further on the subject. However he couldn't help but wonder what was the reason you couldn't stay asleep for the entirety of the night. He had stayed up all night accidentally, wanting to finish his book, when he saw you waking up for the first time three hours after you had originally fallen asleep. You had quickly fallen back asleep though, paying him no mind. But two hours later you had woke up again. He asked your brother the next morning but he received no further information on the matter so he decided to add one more rule, hoping that would help you.

“Are you serious? Tea?”

“Yes. We will both have tea together before falling asleep. We don't have to converse or anything.”

“We will just...drink tea?”

“Yes.” A smile warmed its way up to his lips as his eyes closed before he tilted his head.

“Whateved floats your boat.” You shrugged it off and continued pacing up and down the common room.

A letter from the university should have arrived by now saying that you were either qualified to attend the search that two professors would conduct in Egypt or not but you had been informed by the maids that nothing had arrived.

And when two weeks passed and yet there was no sight of the letter you decided to take action.

William and his older and younger brother, Albert and Louis respectively, were to dine with you and your family that night. It was going to be just a simple dinner with you, your brother, his wife, their seven year old son, your sister, her husband and the three brothers.

Despite knowing this, you had decided to stay a bit longer outside at the back of the manor where the archery targets had been set, just to relieve the stress.

It was currently 7 pm and you knew that the three brothers would arrive at the manor at exactly 7:15 pm. Obviously you had to make yourself look presentable and wear the dress that had been tailored just for you upon your brother's request.

So you kindly handed your bow and arrows to the maid and headed upstairs, where your bedroom was.

“(Y/n)!” You could have recognised that voice anywhere and you quickly turned around to welcome your little nephew with a warm hug. Ignoring the formalities, you had requested that the young boy would call you by your first name when you two were alone. “This is for you.” He shyly gave you a letter. A letter that judging by the stamp alone came from the university.

“When did that came?” You asked without expecting to receive an answer from the young boy that kept hugging you. You picked him up in your arms and carefully opened the letter.

“Aunt had hidden it inside dad's office.”

At the sound of that you nearly dropped the boy from your arms. You unfolded the paper and read through the letter. The answer had indeed been positive, just like you had expected yet that didn't undo the fact that your sister had kept it a secret from you for god know how long.

“Do you know when this letter came?”

“Last week. I saw aunt hide it in dad's office but when she saw me she told me to keep it a secret. But I couldn't.”

“You did so well.” You kissed the boy's cheek and let him down before running towards your sister's bedroom. “You hid it from me.” You opened the door without knocking and threw the letter at her.

“Oh please, it was nothing worth mentioning.” She said and took a final glance at the mirror. You watched as she walked out of the bedroom. You didn't care about changing out of your blouse and pants to the dress...not now.

“How would you know? That letter is my everything. My future!”

“What future? Digging to discover some stupid graves in the midst of the sun is not called a future. You are a woman, act like one.”

“Take that back.”

“Or else what?”

You didn't waste another second and did exactly what you should have done years ago: you ran down the stairs and headed towards the door. Your things? You couldn't give a shot about them. You would return to pick them up tomorrow. For now you had to make it clear that you did not intend to spend another second at this house.

“(Y/n)? Is everything okay?” You passed by your sister in law.

“(Y/n)!” Your sister screamed from the top of the stairs but you weren't going to listen. Hiding the letter from you had been the last stroke. It was what you needed to leave this house. “(Y/n)! Stop right there.” The anger had been too much that you didn't even question how fast she had run down the stairs.

“Don't touch me.” You yanked her hand away and made your way out of the manor. But she followed you.

“You little stu-”

“I won't allow anyone to talk like that to my darling wife.”

Your eyes widened when you saw the three brothers standing in front of you, William in the middle. His smile was a threatening one and his eyes were half closed. Generally the expression on his face was terrifying to say the least. And just a second later you noticed how your brother was leaning against the carriage that had brought the brothers here.

“Pack your things, my love. We are going to Durham.” You could do nothing but nod so you turned around and with a smirk on your face you ignored your sister and walked upstairs, ready to pack your things.

You should have expected it in a way. The decision of getting married had been your sister's but the man had been picked by your brother and for that you were grateful even though you were late.

You silently said your goodbyes to your brother and his small family before following William, Albert and Louis to the carriage that would now take you to the train station.

“Thank you.” You said with your usual cold tone as you entered the carriage. “But I will leave for Egypt in three weeks.”

“That doesn't mean you have to stay there.” William's threatening smile had turned into a gentle one and the next thing you knew, you drifted off to sleep even at such an early hour.

You woke up by someone opening the curtains the next morning. Well not just someone, Louis.

“Good morning.” He smiled at you and pointed at the tray he had placed on your nightstand. He poured the tea in the cup and gently gave it to you. “Brother William waits for you in his office.”

“Thank you.” You returned the smile and took your time drinking your tea and eating the delicious biscuits Louis had made the same morning.

When you were done with breakfast you wore another pair of pants that you had packed along with a white blouse. Soon that blouse would be covered with sand while you would be helping with the research and that was the only thing that made you happy; doing what you loved.

“Your brother said you called for me.” You walked inside William's office. He was still wearing his robe even though he was wearing a suit underneath. Surely he wasn't pleased by whatever he had been reading in that newspaper, you could tell that much by the expression on his face; a slight frown on his lips.

“Indeed.” He folded the newspaper and placed it on his desk. “Congratulations on getting the job...”

He couldn't be...

The William James Moriarty was...nervous?

“I wanted to add one more rule...” He signaled at the seat in front of his desk, which you gladly took.

“I'm listening.”

“Until you leave... let's make this work.”

A Kiss to End All Doubt | Albert Moriarty

Summary: When you agreed to tag along with the Moriarty brothers to a grand ball, the last thing you expected was to receive a noble's offer of marriage. Thankfully, Albert plays the part of your lover well, perhaps a little too well for his affectionate words to be fake...

Content: SFW. Fem!Reader. 3,723 words. Pining. Soooo much romantic tension. Albert is a flirt and no one is surprised.

Notes: I have been writing this fic for what feels like forever BUT IT'S FINALLY FINISHED :3 I'm so excited to finally give this to you. I hope you enjoy it 💖 I may also add an epilogue if there's an interest for one...🤭

Did Albert Moriarty, one of the many faces of the Lord of Crime, truly not have the slightest idea of the effect he had on you?

It was silly to even fathom that a man of his stature could be so oblivious, but you couldn’t help but start to wonder once he started giving your flushed cheeks and wide eyes a quizzical look.

That, or he was playing coy with you, which wouldn’t be all that surprising coming from him. He’d long since mastered the art of making noble ladies go weak in the knees.