that one request where sherlock comes back after the timeskip to his wife who had a baby gave me inspiration for my own request! so this would probably work better for one of the moriarty brothers or mycroft or any character of “noblity/status” but feel free to do whoever!
so the scenario, just a warning, it’s LONG: Y/N is a woman of poor/middle class status and she’s dating one of the moriarty brothers/someone of status. she becomes the subject of gossip for all of upper class society and a bunch of nasty rumors are spread about her like how she’s a gold digger or how she’s only using him to social climb etc. but Y/N doesn’t tell her bf all of the shit that happens cause she doesn’t want to worry him. and he proposes to her and Y/N hesitantly but happily accepts, except the bullying and rumors just get worse until it hits an all time high where someone threatens Y/N telling her to break up with her fiancé of they release a bunch of scandalous stuff about him. so she basically breaks it off with him saying a bunch of stuff like how she only used him for money and how she never loved him etc and then runs away. and Y/N REALLY doesn’t want him to find her going as far as to moving to America or even faking her death so he would stop trying to find her. and i was thinking it could end in 2 ways but you can also write your own if you want! these are just what i thought of! so there’s 1 ending where he figures out what happened, manages to find Y/N, and they reunite and it’s all super cute. or 2, for a LOT more heavy angst, he finds out what happened, manages to find Y/N, but she’s dying in childbirth/has died already and left a newborn baby behind and it’s very angst filled but also bittersweet
sorry that was like SUPER long. i felt like i had to set the scene first but you don’t have to make it super long if you don’t wanna! thanks a bunch!
RUMOR HAS IT - ALBERT MORIARTY X READER
Warnings : lots of internalized misogyny and envy from women, period-typical classism, blackmail, this is not proofread, reader uses she/her pronouns!
Genre : angst (to mild fluff)
Word count : 4.1K words (ouch)
Additional notes : Thank you so much for requesting! After I had a quick look at my masterlist, I realized that I never wrote for Albert, so I went with him. He’s also the one who’s the most in the public eye, given how he was born into nobility and has a well-known job. However, I hate to say this, but this request also goes against my rules and guidelines for requesting🫣 To work on such a heavily detailed piece, I need to write a minimum of 4K words for it to be cohesive, which is the typical length of a ficlet, whereas a regular oneshot would have significantly less details and require a maximum of 1K to 2K words. I have stopped taking requests for ficlets for a year now, seeing as writing them takes up so much time, and I end up totally drained for days afterwards🫠 So please be sure to check my rules for requesting, linked in my pinned post! 🥰 However, the idea was absolutely wonderful, and you’ve been quite sweet about it, so I would’ve felt horrible saying no to that. Anyways, I hope this ends up being to your liking, and I hope you enjoy reading it!💗💗
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Masterlist
Being courted by Albert James Moriarty meant that she’d had firsthand experience in seeing the disparity between the English social classes. A wealthy, charming nobleman like him had—for some reason or the other that she couldn’t quite recall—taken an interest in her some year ago, despite her being born to a factory worker and a seamstress.
It had surprised her when he’d first flirtatiously complimented her for her beauty while they’d both been helping out at an orphanage during their spare time, effortless charm flowing through his every word and motion. The man was every bit as magnetic as it was whispered among the public, particularly the women of them. Though she’d had her reservations, she wasn’t immune to the sweetness in his words and how affable he was. What she expected to have become friendship soon bloomed into something more, her unease melting with every kind gesture, every wonderful outing, and every kiss upon her palm every time they parted.
The ‘Ton seemingly shared her surprise at the development, seeing as they soon became a household name for gossip. Horror and disdain always followed the discovery of the fact that they were openly together, with none holding back the sentiments of disgust.
“Her?! But she’s so terribly plane, and awfully poor! She can’t possibly be right for him when she’s a commoner with filthy blood!” She couldn’t count on her hands just how many times she’d heard the angry whispers—whether by the customers at the bakery where she worked, out about in the marketplace when noblewomen haughtily passed by, or by passersby near the mansion gates whenever she stepped out of the carriage Albert had her brought in.
Though the words left a sting that wouldn’t quite go away no matter how hard she clenched her fists and dug her nails into her palms, she always tried her best to brush them off. After all, what did it matter if the masses thought her unworthy, when Albert himself looked at her like she cradled his whole world in her palms? Why should she care, when his hand always sought hers and his thumb carressed her knuckles whenever they went on a walk together?
It made no difference if the word spread around that she was leeching off him for money, because she knew her pride and dignity would never allow that to actually happen. She always asked him to keep his lavish gifts to a minimum, and as adoring as Albert was, he’d never go against her wishes. Word has spread that she was only using him to pull herself out from the shroud of the working class and into the dazzling nobility, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth, given how repulsed she’d been by the false glamour and shine that seemed to settle down on the rich whenever they attended the balls held at the Moriarty household, causing her to politely request from her lover that she be excused from them after a few appearances at his side as he’d wished.
Ever the understanding companion, not once did he express disgruntlement, accepting the fact that she simply did not feel comfortable enough to mingle in such places—and she was unlikely to ever know it, but perhaps that was part of what Albert liked so much about her; she shared his exact feelings towards the accursed nobility that he’d been equally fortunate and unlucky to have been born into.
Through all the terrible name-calling and rumors that flew around her, she absolutely refused to let Albert in on them. Sure, he had his connections and could’ve easily found out under normal conditions, but the nobles seemed to be extra careful to not let him know. Not a single word was spoken when he was in the vicinity—a wise decision from them, really, because she was more than well aware of Albert’s capabilities; she knew he could have them fall into ruination should he hear a malicious word about his beloved. That deadly glint to his emerald eyes that she sometimes saw when he was displeased with a nobleman who’d swindled another client wasn’t an empty threat.
More importantly, she simply didn’t want him to worry. If she told Albert of the rumors circulating, his primary concern (before disposing of the perpetrators) would be her well-being. He would fret over her, and would almost smother her with his well-intentioned concerns. If he had it his way, he probably wouldn’t even leave her side at all, something that wouldn’t do given his high standing in society. No; it was best to stay quiet and shrug the vile words off.
And shrug them off she did on a particularly pleasant Sunday morning after she’d attended mass at her local church. The collective hushed voices and cruel glares were nothing unfamiliar, but she hadn’t wanted to dwell on them, seeing as she was going out with Albert right afterwards. He’d asked her out for lunch at a fancy restaurant, something that was both overwhelming and yet thrilling. She always enjoyed trying out new cuisine with him, even if the setting was a little daunting at first; she wasn’t about to spoil her fun with the man she loved with thoughts of how out of place she might’ve felt.
His brilliant smile as he held her gloved hands in his sent her heart fluttering in her ribcage. “You’re looking extra happy tonight,” she pointed out, though she had no room to say it when she herself was grinning from ear to ear.
“Well, I happen to always be happy when I’m with you.” His reply was smoother than she’d expected, and she felt herself flushing. Albert’s expression remained open and earnest, and she wondered how easy it was for him to charm her socks off. It didn’t take long for her to go down that line of thinking, because he soon stunned her as his hand momentarily left hers to pull out a small velvet box from his tailcoat.
“Albert…” she breathed out, heart thumping wildly in her chest. She watched as he slowly opened it to reveal a breathtaking ring, with a clean-cut dazzling diamond in the center, surrounded by smaller pieces that formed the shape of a delicate flower.
“I would’ve probably bought something bigger if I was left to my own devices, but Louis had to physically restrain me and remind me that you would probably hate that,” he laughed out, the tender look in his green eyes hypnotizing, “But I suppose it doesn’t matter as long as you like it. What matters is whether or not you’d be willing to be my wife.” Albert reached out once again to squeeze her fingers affectionately, lifting them to leave a soft kiss against her glove and immediately warming the spot. “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”
Swallowing thickly, she could feel her stomach flip with a mix of anxiety and pure elation. She briefly thought of all the nasty words she’d heard just by being his lover, and though she knew that things would get infinitely worse now that they were officially on the road to marriage, she squashed those thoughts. It wouldn’t do to hesitate; not when she loved him so incredibly much. It was her choice to grasp her happiness by the hands, and she could only imagine it with him.
And so she hurriedly nodded. “Of course. Oh, Albert!” she cooed, adoration washing all over her, as she squeezed his hand back, the most stunning smile on her face matching his.
***
Only a fool would’ve thought that becoming Albert’s fiancée would make things quiet down, and a fool she was not. However, she certainly hadn’t foreseen the fact that they’d only grow crueler and more condescending as soon as he’d introduced her to high class society as the future Mrs. Moriarty. How foolish of her, to not realize that they’d only grow more bitter and hateful the more her beloved solidified their relationship and showed that they weren’t to part.
She could’ve sworn that now whenever she locks up the bakery after a rainy day, some women wait until she turns around to order their carriages to leave at that exact moment, the wheels splashing the ends of her skirts with murky water. Sneers were always directed in her direction, and she’d been called a “filthy mutt” more times than she could count. The ladies, in their pristine clothes and flawless makeup, made it their job to remind her of how utterly inferior she was to them, and how undeserving she was of Albert’s affections.
One particularly sour-looking woman went out of her way to visit her daily at the bakery. She was the wife of a huge upstanding figure in society; a merchant who’d had close business relations with Albert in the past, and had supposedly remained a steadfast ally and partner to him. Since the girl wasn’t the owner, she could do nothing to deter the noblewoman from coming, seeing as she wouldn’t want to risk the business.
“You’re nothing but a gold-digging hound, pawing after its master before it sinks its teeth into him,” she’d hissed at her, roughly a month after their engagement, “I know what you lot are like, lecherous women with no honor and all the greed there is in the world.”
“My lady, I would rather not mix business with personal affairs,” she’d gritted her teeth as she said, “Your change.” And as she’d handed the woman back her coins, the furious lady had already taken off her gloves, long nails deliberately scratching her palms enough to draw blood, before haughtily turning her back on her.
Her malicious visitor at work had then persisted, injecting venomous words into her every single morning, her glare hard and loathing—until one day, she walked in with an oddly smug look on her face.
“Shall I get you your regular, my lady?” she sighed, preparing to turn around and take out her pain au chocolat, but the woman waved her off, that strange expression not wavering.
“No, there won’t be any need for that anymore. I won’t have to ward you off, because you won’t be seeing Albert again.”
A confused look came on her face. “Excuse me? You’re very mistaken if you think—“
“No, my dear girl,” she interrupted, her sickly sweet voice alerting her brain, “You’re the one who’s mistaken. You will end your engagement with him, tonight.” She had a steely glint in her eyes, her grin merciless. “Or else my husband will have a lot to say to the public, regarding the deals with firearms that haven’t been released to them.”
“My Albert would never do anything that conflicts with England’s interests,” she firmly said, all civility left behind the moment the noblewoman decided to bring her lover’s honesty into question.
“You poor thing,” she leered at her, a victorious smile on her face as she knew that she had her backed into a corner. “You seem to think that anyone cares to verify the statements. With a news story regarding his unscrupulous visits to your home at night, his honor will be in question the entire time. A false accusation after that will be more than enough to shatter his public image permanently.”
A sour taste fills her mouth as she paled. She knew that if anything were to be said against Albert, no matter how hard he’d try to negate it, there was little he could do when the entirety of the upper class turned on him. His power lied within his social standing, a good portion of which he had labored endlessly to maintain, and she would feel sickening guilt for the rest of her life if she ended up wrecking that for him.
“You’re a smart girl, and you know what to do.” The woman leaned back as she smirked. “End things with Albert tonight, and he shall not be harmed. That is my vow. Stick to your end, and we shall have no problems.” And so, parasol in hand, she clicked her heels away as she exited, leaving the girl to slump against the countertop, her heart beating wildly in her ears and fear turning her legs numb.
***
“Darling, where’ve you been? I sent a carriage for you hours ago. Were you not home?” Albert’s worried face was the first thing that greeted her at the doorstep, dresses in only a shirt and pants and his houserobe over it, before he took in the blank look on her face and frowned deeply. “Has something happened? Come in, love, it’s warmer inside.”
“No, it’s… fine,” she almost choked on her words, before she cleared her throat. “I’ve only got something to say.” Before he could look at her with his kind eyes and render her weak, she had to get done with this. Avoiding his confused stare, she twisted the ring off her finger and took his hand in hers, saying, “We’ve got to part ways, Albert.”
“Pardon?” he laughed as she opened his palm, but it sounded weak and a little hurt, “I’m not sure—“
She steeled her resolve and met his eyes, willing herself to keep any tears at bay and not allow herself a moment of weakness. “It’s been going on for far too long. All I’d ever wanted was a taste of what being rich felt like, of how the upper class was. The money was far more interesting than you’ve ever been.”
Albert recoiled a little at the words, and she was sure now that she hadn’t imagined the wounded look that flashed in his eyes. “Darling! You can’t mean that, you’ve never even touched my money, you can’t—“
“Can’t you see, Albert?” she snapped at him, frustrated at how it was dragging out. She wanted to get it over with; to bury the hurt before it could resurface. “I’ve used you as a stepping stone. I’ve never once loved, and yet here you are still deluding yourself that I still want you.” With a shake of her head, she dropped the ring into his outstretched hand, before stepping back fast as her knees began to shake and her chest began to ache. “Goodbye, Albert. May we never meet again.”
The sight of his stunned and heartbroken expression would be one that she’d never forget. It had been burned into her memory, to remind her of what she’d lost. Still, she couldn’t give up now. She had to leave. And so, with her fist clenched around the cheapest steamship’s ticket to New York, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the chill outside.
***
New York was just over two centuries old, but it still held the novelty of a brand new city. For some odd reason, everything about it tempted her and spoke to her of new dreams and a different life. And perhaps, had she not been nursing a broken heart and struggling to make ends meet, she would’ve come to love it. But for now, she loathed it and everything it meant for her.
It was nothing but a mere substitute; a place she’d fled to with nothing more than a tattered trunk that held what little she owned, and enough tears to fill the Atlantic twice over. If it could keep Albert and his reputation safe, however, she’d do it all over again without a single beat of hesitation.
Working at a bakery was a little bit better paying than it was in Durham, seeing as the general American public was better off with its economic boom than England’s limited upper class. The rent, however, took up a great portion of her pay, seeing as she was a single tenant that wasn’t splitting with anyone else.
What she most found befuddling was the cultural shock. Everyone was a lot more lax about the rules of propriety and etiquette, they spoke without inhibition with their peculiar accents, and the country advertised freedom above all else. What that freedom actually entailed, she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.
Still, it was at least a place where she could pretend that life was alright without her fiancé—or rather, ex-fiancé—holding her in his arms. She could never atone for her doing him wrong, or for lying to his face that way. Many a time she’d entertained the idea of running back home and confessing the truth, but then she remembered that sinister noblewoman’s face and shivered.
Before she knew it, she had spent three months in solitude in her small New York apartment. Her nights after closing shop was spent by the fireplace, knitting a scarf in an emerald color that was the same shade as a certain someone’s eyes.
Damn it all, for leaving her still so hung up on the man she’d never once stopped loving. She dropped her needles to her lap, hunching over as she squeezed her eyes shut. With so much she wished she’d never had to say, she wanted to cry her eyes out in despair, but knew that no one would hear her call for help but herself and these four walls.
A banging on her door caused her to jump in her seat, knocking the ball of yarn at her feet. She frowned. Her rent wasn’t due for another two weeks, and she hadn’t asked for the evening paper to be delivered to her doorstep. There wasn’t anyone coming to mind that could want anything from her at this hour.
As the rapping against her door grew more insistent, she grabbed her shawl from the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Coming, coming, Jesus,” she mumbled under her breath, before finally swinging the door open.
And there stood none other than Albert, his tie crooked, hear terribly disheveled and much longer than she recalled it being, and face looking clearly haggard and unshaven. He looked dazed, eyes dull but wide as he stared at her as though she were a mirage. Disbelieving that he stood right there in front of her, she couldn’t help but gape at him for almost two minutes, before he visibly shivered, and she remembered that he was standing in the middle of the cold.
“Come in,” she cleared her throat, gesturing for him to enter, something he seemed more than happy to obey.
As he sat down on the couch and she sat back in her chair, he kept his eyes trained on her, unmoving. While pretending to busy herself with tossing another log in the fireplace, she couldn’t help but think of just how much weight he seemed to have lost. He looked far worse for wear than she’d dreamed he’d be.
“Please look at me,” he softly said, and it seemed more like he was begging her. She stilled in place, slowly turning around to face him, and her breath hitched. Nothing in the world could get her to turn away when he looked at her so earnestly and with so much vulnerability in his eyes.
“Two weeks after you left, a woman, whom I recognized as being the wife of someone I’d had a good relationship with, came to talk to me.” His voice was low as he spoke, a little deeper and more tired than she remembered it being. His words, however, caused her stomach to sink as she imagined what could’ve happened.
“Oh?”
“She told me how happy she was that you were out of the picture. That now she had a better chance,” Albert smiled derisively, “It seemed she didn’t care that she was admitting to desiring infidelity.”
“I’m not quite sure what’s that got to do with me, my Lord.” Trying to sound as distant as she could, she prayed she wouldn’t go weak in the knees. The last thing she wanted was to get him into any further trouble by being entangled with her.
Hurt flashed behind his eyes. “I’m not your lord, and I never have been anything other than your Albert. And you, my beloved fiancée.” He leaned in his seat, the firelight reflected in his eyes. “She must’ve threatened you, hadn’t she?”
She sighed, “No, Albert, she hadn’t.” Not her, at the very least. “I wouldn’t cower when I am threatened because I don’t particularly care what happens to me.”
“And that’s why our dear friend Sherlock argued that she most likely threatened to harm me instead. Am I correct in believing his theory right?” Her tongue was heavy in her mouth as he eyed her carefully, a calculating look on his face. “Your response was a confirmation. You said you don’t care what happens to you, which means that the threats were never directed towards you.”
Remaining quiet and biting back her tongue was the only way she could prevent herself from admitting to the truth. His expression turned desperate as he stood up to walk over to her.
“Did you think I’d fear anyone? I’ve never been at any danger. Why did you not come to me with what she’d told you? We would’ve disposed of her immediately.”
She turned her face to the side. “If you had no fear, then I had enough for the both of us.” Taking in a rattling breath, she could hold back no more. “The truth wouldn’t have mattered, but the people’s trust in you should never waver. She wanted to put that to the test in the cruelest way possible.”
Fingers found her chin, tilting her head towards him. Emerald eyes bore into hers as he firmly said, “Even if she’d carried that out, I would’ve dispelled any rumors with little effort.” Albert then smiled sadly, “But then again, ignoring things was how you’d always dealt with rumors, wasn’t it?” It felt like she couldn’t breathe as he spoke, bringing to light everything she’d hoped she could bury in the past. “Fred had found that out over a year ago, but he’d been withholding the information, as he was under the impression that you had already told me.”
“Don’t berate me, Albert,” her bottom lip wobbled as she said it, and she mustered all the strength she had to keep as straight a face as she could. “If I had told you, you would’ve worried incessantly.”
“And that’s my job,” he softly said, going down on his knees to sit on the carpet beside her, his calloused hands gently cradling her face, “I’m not berating you, love. I’m only saddened by the fact that you didn’t think you could communicate these things with me. I would’ve never done or said anything that you didn’t wish to see or hear.”
When he held her face like this with that kindness in his eyes she’d missed having directed at her, a small part of her cracked. Wondering why she ever thought it a smart idea to hide things from him and lie to him, her shoulders slumped in defeat. His fingers began to caress her warm skin, and she began blinking back tears at the affection that swelled within her that moment.
“How did you find me?” she managed to croak out.
Albert shrugged, “I had a couple of connections in this city. One of them seemed to know about our relationship from a few noble English acquaintances. I’d once done him a favor, so he promised to pay me back by finding your whereabouts. After all, you were registered to have arrived at the port of New York.” He sighed heavily as he leaned in, his expression growing more solemn. “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you. It hadn’t crossed my mind at the start that you’d have left the country. Only when I had enough courage to entertain the idea that you’d left everything behind did I think of America.”
She couldn’t help herself. Perhaps it was his gentle voice, or perhaps that she’d missed his handsome face too much, or perhaps because she’d been secretly wishing all this time that he’d come find her, but for whatever reason, she found herself choking on a sob, flinging her arms around his neck and falling forward.
With an “oof!”, they both fell back onto the carpet, though neither of them cared, as they got entangled in each other’s limbs. Tucking her head in his neck, she cried to her heart’s content, wringing out all the sorrow and loneliness she’d had to shoulder on her own in an unfamiliar place that could never be her home. Albert’s grip on her was firm but loving, and the sound of him slowly inhaling her in as his hand rubbed her back was the most soothing thing she’d never even known she’d missed.
“Wherever you want to go from here on out,” he murmured in her ear, “You have all my love and support, if you’ll take me back.”
“You silly man, of course I will,” a watery laugh escaped her, sniffling as she only held onto him tighter, “Please take me back with you. Home is wherever you are, anyways.”
