imagining how they’d spend a getaway when their beloved (YN) invites them to relax and spend time together. Each one is separate and stays true to their personality and dynamic with you:
🕯️ William James Moriarty — “A Holiday of Stillness ”
WILLIAM JAMES MORIARTY
🌹 William James Moriarty
Destination: A quiet countryside estate in the Cotswolds
William rarely takes a break unless you insist — but when he finally agrees, he meticulously plans the route and lodging, ensuring everything suits your comfort.
He loves the serenity of rolling hills, classical gardens, and the faint sound of violin music in the air.
He’ll bring books, chess, and fine wine, but what he really wants is to see you barefoot in the grass, smiling without a care.
He’ll say, “It’s strange, how peace only feels complete when you’re near.”
At night, you sit by candlelight while he reads aloud from his favorite novels, his voice low and steady, his gaze flicking up just to see you blush.
Maybe Liam He will play you a piano rendition of “Love Story” by the fire. The notes are soft, as if thanking the world for finally finding peace - and you.
"If peace had a sound... it would be your laughter."
Sometimes he would lie in your arms, his eyes half-closed, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair, as if he had forgotten that the world could be so beautiful without blood and drawings.— linen blanket, strawberries, champagne—and a gentle kiss beneath the stars.
_ _ _ _ _ _
🔎 Sherlock Holmes
Destination: A lively seaside town in Brighton or Dover
He pretends he’s uninterested in vacations (“Sentimentality, sweetheart… a distraction”), but you catch him packing early.
The salty air energizes him; he takes your hand and leads you along the cliffs, talking about the patterns in the waves as if they’re a code only he can decipher.
He’ll challenge you to small games — who spots the most seagulls, who can guess where a passerby is from.
Late at night, you share fish and chips while he plays the violin for you under a lamppost, the melody dancing with the sea breeze. A name title ‘Rachmaninoff: romance for violin a minor’
“You do realize,” he murmurs with a smirk, “that I’m entirely addicted to these moments with you?”
After that, he would lay his head on your lap, hiding his tired eyes, letting silence become the language between you.
"You're the only mystery I don't want to solve," he said, as if admitting something he didn't even want to believe.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
🌙 Louis James Moriarty
Destination: A lakeside cabin in Switzerland or the Lake District
Louis chooses somewhere peaceful, surrounded by water and pine trees — his dream is to finally breathe away from the city’s weight.
He spends mornings cooking breakfast for you, his hair messy, sleeves rolled up.
You find him staring at the lake often, lost in thought, until he turns, softly smiling, and says, “It’s beautiful… but not as much as you.”
He insists you rest and let him take care of everything. When you protest, he kisses your forehead to hush you.
At night, he lights a small fire, wraps you in a blanket, and lets you fall asleep against his shoulder, whispering promises you almost don’t hear.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
🥂 Albert James Moriarty
Destination: A luxury villa on the French Riviera
Albert adores elegance — he’ll book a private villa overlooking the sea, with sun-drenched terraces and champagne breakfasts.
He enjoys slow mornings: sunlight on your skin, a silk robe slipping off your shoulder, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair as he murmurs, “You make every place feel like home.”
He’ll take you sailing, teaching you how to steer while the wind tousles your hair — a rare, unguarded laugh escaping him when you splash water on him.
Evenings are pure romance: candlelit dinners, gentle dancing, and soft jazz a name song “True love” echoing through the villa.
He’s the type to toast to your happiness and mean it with his entire soul.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
🔥 Sebastian Moran
Destination: A rugged mountain lodge or a desert adventure in Morocco
Sebastian loves action and freedom — the farther from civilization, the better.
When you invite him, his grin says it all: “Finally, an excuse to get you alone.”
He teaches you how to shoot, fish, or ride a horse, but he’s endlessly patient when you fumble — always teasing, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
Nights are warm and wild: campfire stories, whiskey, and stargazing with you tucked against his chest.
He’s protective to the core, making sure no danger touches you.
“Next time,” he murmurs against your ear, “we’ll go somewhere even wilder. Just you and me, love.”
❤️🔥🌡️all rights reserved to the artist @ogata69 on twitter (x)
❤️🔥🌡️inspired by the king of leon's song, sex on fire
❤️🔥🌡️wc: 4.5 k
❤️🔥🌡️contains sexual tension, pussy eating, sex (p in v), edging, unprotected sex, pull out method, mutual pining and cursing
❤️🔥🌡️thank you all for the support, especially @elicypher and @ayaswrld
edit: i am still traveling, so if you want a continuation, please tell me (i've not completely finished it correctly). sorry if it's not my best work 😭
The rush of velocity coursed through your veins, matching the pulse of the city lights streaking past. Driving at night always felt different—there was an undeniable thrill to it, a spark that broke through the monotony, offering an exhilarating contrast to the otherwise predictable routine of your life.
The car glided through winding roads, past blurred signs and landmarks, each one a marker of a potential destination for some distant future. Tonight, though, the journey wasn’t about where you were headed, but about surrendering to the soft pull of the past. A fleeting sense of nostalgia washed over you, dragging your thoughts back to childhood. You remembered sitting in the passenger seat, watching adult hands move gracefully over the gearshift. Back then, freedom had felt like a distant promise, carried on the hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of practiced fingers.
Now, you were the one at the wheel, your gaze locked on the road ahead. The city had dissolved behind you, leaving only the open countryside, the outline of a secluded manor just visible on the horizon. But even with the adventure unfolding before you, something felt off. Like a gap that you couldn’t quite fill.
The soundtrack.
Your eyes flicked sideways, catching a glimpse of William’s profile, half-illuminated by the passing neon glow. His expression was focused, lips tugging into that mischievous smile of his. There was a silent contest between you, one neither of you had fully acknowledged yet. Would it be his soulful classics, or your less-than-subtle dad playlist that would define this moment?
"Let me guess," he broke the silence, voice teasing but soft. "You want something dramatic."
A laugh escaped you, breaking the tension, but your hand was already reaching for the console. "Only if it fits the mood."
"Keep driving," he replied, his fingers dancing over the screen. "I’ll find something you’ll like."
The hum of the car filled the air, the steady rhythm matching your pulse as you focused back on the road. The traffic was light, but the hours ahead would stretch into the quiet of the night before you reached your destination. William had suggested this trip—a blend of relaxation and intellectual curiosity. The Lake District’s ties to Romantic poets intrigued you both, and you were both curious about rare manuscripts housed in a private collection near the estate.
You were reluctant to take a break. You and William were always so caught up in your work, but maybe this would give you both the pause you needed. Yet, as the city lights faded behind you, and the peaceful countryside opened up before you, there was something about the sudden shift that made you question if you were being impulsive—or if William had more influence over you than you cared to admit.
From the corner of your eye, you noticed his calm concentration as he scrolled through the playlist. His golden hair, darker in the dim light, tousled slightly—a rare but not unexpected sight. With one hand steady on the wheel, you grabbed his water bottle from the compartment and took a quick sip.
"You could’ve told me you were thirsty," he said, his tone light, his attention still on the screen. "It’s my job as co-pilot."
The car hummed around you as he found a playlist he seemed to approve of. The music started, and he turned to you, his expression unreadable, though the teasing edge in his voice was unmistakable.
"A playlist for driving at night, huh?" he asked, tilting his head. "Why do most of these songs sound like they’re... about sex? Feeling a bit needy, darling?"
You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him only briefly. "You’re intelligent, William," you replied smoothly, your tone casual. "Stop asking questions you already know the answer to."
He chuckled softly, but his gaze was still fixed on the screen. His hand rested warm and steady on the wheel, the quiet intensity of the night deepening around you.
"There’s nothing wrong with not having a boyfriend, or having a healthy imagination," he said, voice lowering a little, almost softer now. His fingers brushed lightly against your shoulder before resting there, a touch that lingered. "It surprised me, that’s all. You’re brilliant, desirable... anyone would be lucky to have you."
You glanced at him for a moment, a quiet smile tugging at your lips, but your voice carried the faintest edge. "Finding someone worth your time? It’s like searching for gold in a river. You know it’s out there, but you’re going to waste a lot of time looking."
Your gaze flicked to his face, studying his reaction. "Most men are scum, William. Honestly, I couldn’t care less to try."
He was quiet for a moment, gaze still on the screen as though measuring his words. When he finally spoke, his voice had softened. "I wouldn’t call it wasting time. You just have to find the one worth keeping."
You shot him a sideways glance. "And where, exactly, do I find this mythical man?" you teased, voice light but with an underlying curiosity.
"Maybe closer than you think," he said quietly, the weight of his words lingering longer than you expected.
A faint smile tugged at your lips as you glanced at him. "I still think he should fall straight into my lap. Like an angel."
"So, you want a demon, then?" William shot back, grinning. "I remember you were obsessed with Sebastian from Black Butler. Your room was basically a shrine—pictures, drawings, all over the walls. Good times."
A groan escaped you, rolling your eyes in exasperation. "I was a teenager, William. That doesn’t count."
"Doesn’t it?" he teased, his grin widening. "The evidence was pretty damning."
But it wasn’t his teasing that had you biting your lip, barely able to focus on the road. It was the way his hand had settled on your thigh—warm, steady, but there with an undeniable intensity. The air around you shifted, thickened, as though the car itself was holding its breath.
"Stop teasing me," you muttered, your voice playful but edged with something else. "Or I’ll make you drive instead."
His eyes flicked over to you, amusement dancing there. "But, darling, I’m terrible with GPS."
"Exactly," you said, the words slipping out with a knowing edge. A wicked thrill ran through you as you imagined him fumbling with directions. A slight shiver passed through him.
The corner of his lips twitched, betraying the conflict inside him as he looked away, watching the road ahead. His body language was tense, the heat rising inside him not entirely from the car’s temperature. The break with you had been everything he needed, but there was still a part of him that burned for more. Every teasing word, every playful exchange, only left him wanting more.
Would he try again?
He cared for you—no, he craved you. The thought of you consumed him, haunted him, until even the silence between you felt charged. He’d come up with this whole trip as an excuse to spend time with you, a reckless move, but when you agreed, it felt like everything had clicked into place.
William wanted to see the moment you let your guard down. He wanted to feel your lips pressed to his, your body against his as the heat of your connection filled the space between you. His thoughts drifted, pulling him into an imagined reality where you were finally his, where you melted into his touch. His chest tightened, the longing almost unbearable.
"William?"
Your voice cut through the haze of his thoughts, your hand waving in front of his face. His eyes snapped back to you, the moment broken, but the heat still simmering beneath the surface.
"You okay?" you asked, voice soft but insistent. "I asked if you'd like to stop for a bit."
"Yes," he replied quickly, his voice a little tighter than usual. "A break sounds good. Is there an inn around here?"
You studied him for a moment, a little too aware of the tension that had built between you both. "A break? Or are you just avoiding something?"
He looked away, his fingers absently smoothing the coat in his lap. "Something like that."
And then, his gaze met yours again, lingering just a little too long. "We all need a moment to breathe, don't we?"
You smirked. "Maybe, but I'm not sure it’s just a bathroom break you need."
You shifted closer, your words soft but charged. "You think you’re the only one holding back? The way you move, the way your hands grip the chalk when you’re writing, the way your body—lean, strong—gets so close when you explain things. The way you smell... how I can feel the heat radiating from you. It’s maddening."
The words hung between you, thick and undeniable.
"It’s maddening to realize that you don’t desire me truly, but want a distraction from your rational world. I see the glances and the whispering when we are together, it seems I am too basic to be with you – the hot young professor – don’t you think?"
Her words stung, sharper than he had anticipated. The casualness with which she dropped them, as if they were nothing more than another playful observation, made them all the more cutting.
He turned to her, his jaw tight, the words caught in his throat for a brief, strained moment. A part of him wanted to deny it—wanted to push the whole subject away. But the raw honesty in her eyes made it impossible to lie.
"Is that what you think?" His voice was lower now, the teasing edge gone. It wasn’t the frustration he was used to hearing in his own voice, but something quieter, something far more dangerous. "You think I’m just trying to escape the confines of my ‘rational world’?"
She shrugged, her lips curling into a half-smile, but there was a softness in her gaze now, a vulnerability he hadn’t seen before. She was playing a dangerous game, one she knew all too well.
"You don't have to admit it," she said softly, eyes flickering to the road ahead, though she could feel his gaze lingering on her. "You just have to look at the way you act around me. When you’re close, it's like you're holding your breath, like you're scared to let yourself... want anything. But you're drawn in anyway, aren't you?"
William shifted in his seat, the tension tightening further. He didn’t need to admit it; he could feel it—a pull he couldn’t explain, yet couldn’t ignore.
"You don’t know anything about what I want," he muttered, though his words lacked the usual confidence, tinged with something far more uncertain.
Her laugh was soft, almost like a sigh. "Isn’t it always the way? You never want what you think you need, but you can’t stop yourself from wanting it. It's easy to convince yourself it's a distraction, a game. But it’s not, William. It never has been."
The silence between them grew, thick with unspoken truths and unacknowledged desire. She didn’t look at him again, but she didn’t need to. The tension was palpable, the space between them charged with the words they hadn’t yet said but both knew were there.
"You think I’m just playing games?" he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
She didn’t answer at first, instead letting the question hang in the air, drifting between them like the road stretching out in front of them. And when she did speak, her voice was low, steady, and undeniably certain.
"Maybe you’re the one playing games, William. But if you’re trying to keep me at arm’s length, you’re losing."
"Stop the car."
"What?"
"Stop this fucking car, darling." He smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. His gaze was sharp, different from all you had seem before, with a malicious glint that reminded you of blood. Sighing, you obeyed, steering the car into a small parking lot at a gas station by the side of the road.
You put the car in neutral and pulled the handbrake, unaware of when he kissed you. His voice was a low mutter, and your eyes widened as you saw a tear fall from his eye. "Why can't you understand anything I say? Do you really think I'm just a filthy womanizer, name?"
You tried to speak, but he cut you off again. "How could I even sleep with anyone when you're the only one in my mind?" He placed his hand on your cheek. "I... I even dedicated an entire thesis to you."
"Does that make you understand?" he groaned as he pulled you into an embrace, the feel of your hands on his back almost unbearable. "I love you."
His hands roamed over your body with an urgency that matched the pounding of his heart. Every touch, every breath felt like a claim, marking you as his. You could feel the heat of his body, his breath shallow against your skin as his lips traced the curve of your neck – nibbling it incessantly.
"Do you feel it?" he whispered, his voice low and raw. "The way I need you... the way you're the only thing that matters now?" He pressed closer, his cock hard against your hand, and you could already taste the tension, thick and unrelenting. "Tell me you feel it too. Tell me you understand."
"I want you, William. I always have."
Aren’t you afraid of being seen?" you murmured, confusion evident in your voice as your back pressed against the leather of the car’s backseat—the car you had only recently bought and that wouldn’t remain so clean after this. Your gaze darted from side to side, searching for anyone who might intrude on your fragile sense of privacy.
"Who cares?" he muttered, shifting awkwardly on his knees against the carpet, his face now level with your hips. "I almost lost you because I was too scared to feel anything real—let them watch if they want."
His patience was wearing thin, but he forced himself to move carefully. He unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them down your legs slowly before tossing them aside. His hands lingered, firm, his touch more certain than hesitant, as if grounding himself in the moment. His gaze burned into you, full of need and desperation, like you were the only thing in his mind.
"Open your legs for me, sweetheart." He rested his head on your thigh, his eyes almost pleading as he gazed up at you. "Let me make you forget everything that's troubling you."
You parted your legs, and the sight before him – oh, the sight – was enough to make him cum undone. The hardness in his pants throbbed painfully, barely restrained. A glistening patch of your arousal darkened your simple nude panties, the wetness trailing all the way to your clit. He swore he could almost catch the faint, intoxicating hint of your sweet scent.
Would you taste as good as he imagined?
He moved closer to your core, pausing just long enough for your consent. When you nodded, his fingers slid your panties to the side. He started with a slow lick, savoring your taste as he traced the length of your slit. Then came a single, lingering suck on your clit that drew a gasp and a moan from your lips. He was definitely pussydrunk.
How could he not be? You tasted divine, and the sight of your walls fluttering around nothing, desperate to be filled, drove him to the brink. It was maddening. His hand pressed firmly against your lower back, pulling you closer to his mouth. He wanted more, he wanted everything. Every drop of you.
William slid his index finger inside you, curling it eagerly toward the spot he had studied so meticulously in his anatomy books—the one that promised to bring unparalleled pleasure to a partner. "S-Shit, this feels so good," you stammered, biting your lip as you struggled to steady your breath.
He chuckled, unable to resist the allure of your soft, vulnerable expressions. His finger curled in a deliberate come-hither motion, coaxing pleasure from deep within as he continued to suck the very breath from your lungs. Adding a second finger, he watched you unravel before him, utterly lost in the rapture he so skillfully provided.
"Ngh…s-so close." The pulsing sensation in your gut tightened, drawing a sharp tremble from your legs as you clenched around his fingers. Your breath hitched, a gasp escaping, and your thoughts dissolved into a haze of pleasure. William's tongue moved with calculated precision, circling and teasing until the world around you blurred, leaving only him and the dizzying waves he adored.
"I won't let you cum yet," his gaze held a spark, the corners of his mouth lifting just enough to tease without revealing too much. "I want you on my cock."
Before you could respond, he grabbed your arms and pushed you onto all fours. His grip was firm, immobilizing you without effort. You gritted your teeth, frustration bubbling over as the sensation of being so close yet denied coursed through you. He didn't react to your hissing protest, simply adjusting his hold to keep you steady.
"I won't stop once I start," he said, leaning close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. "Are you sure this is what you want?"
"Just fuck me already," you snapped, your patience gone. "Stop teasing, you bastard."
"If you insist," he said, the words laced with heat that sent a shiver down your spine.
Snap.
The sound of his belt being undone broke the air between you, deliberate and unhurried. His movements were calculated, a stark contrast to the rush of tension that gripped you both. With a flick of his wrist, he loosened the leather, casting aside the composure he wore like a mask. The William you thought you knew—refined, restrained, untouchable—was gone, replaced by a man consumed by need.
His pants slid down to his knees, and he freed his cock,
letting it press firmly against your ass. You gasped as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your neck, his voice a low growl that seemed to echo in your chest.
"Do you feel that?" he murmured, his hand gripping your hip, pulling you back just enough to make his intentions clear. "This is what you’ve been driving me to."
Your body tensed as he guided you into position, his hand pressing firmly against your back to arch you just the way he wanted. The cool air hit your exposed skin, heightening every sensation as his grip tightened, his fingers digging into your hips to keep you still.
The tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, hot and unyielding, sending a jolt through your body. He leaned over, his chest brushing against your back as his lips hovered by your ear.
"I’m not holding back this time," he said, his tone commanding yet heavy with affection. His voice trembled slightly, giving away the tension coiled in his body. "Do you want me to fill you up?"
The weight of his body pinned you in place, but you managed to look back at him, meeting his gaze. The hunger in his eyes was unrelenting, blazing with need, but there was something deeper there—a silent plea, almost vulnerable, as if he were asking for more than just permission.
"Yes," you breathed, the word spilling out before you could second-guess yourself. "I want you to, please."
The corner of his mouth lifted, satisfied with your answer, before his lips claimed the back of your neck in a kiss that left you trembling. Then, without waiting for a response, he pushed forward, filling you inch by inch, the stretch forcing a gasp from your lips. He didn’t stop, didn’t pause, until he was buried deep inside you, his body flush against yours.
His hand slipped from your back to your jaw, turning your face just enough for his lips to brush the corner of your mouth. "You keep pretending you're in charge," he murmured, his tone low, almost teasing. "But look where you are now."
Your breath hitched, and you opened your mouth to snap back, but the slow pull of him moving inside you wiped the thought clean from your mind. He pulled back slightly, letting you feel the drag of every inch, before slamming his hips forward, forcing a sharp gasp from your lips.
"Liam!"
His name spilled out before you could stop it, your voice trembling as he moved inside you with deliberate intent. A rich, low laugh escaped him, warm yet tinged with a smugness that made your cheeks flush hotter. "That’s it," he murmured, his grip on your hips tightening. He adjusted his stance, his thighs bracketing yours, keeping you steady against the rhythm he was setting. "Say it again. I want to hear exactly what I do to you."
You swallowed hard, your breath catching as his weight pressed you deeper into the worn leather of the back seat. The windows had long since fogged, heat radiating from where your bodies met, filling the car with your scents. "You’re insufferable," you managed to hiss, though the words wavered as your body betrayed you, arching instinctively into his sex every movement.
His response was immediate. His teeth grazed your shoulder, just enough to make your skin tingle, before his lips followed, nibbling lightly as if testing your limits. "And yet, here you are," he murmured, his hips snapping against yours with more intensity. The wet, rhythmic sound of his movements filled the cramped space of the car, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.
His hands moved lower, gripping your thighs firmly to hold you in place as he adjusted your position. The shift sent him deeper, the hard, insistent head of his cock brushing against that sensitive spot inside you, drawing a choked gasp from your lips.
"Taking everything I give you," he continued, his voice softening but never losing that sharp, teasing edge. His pace didn’t falter, every thrust hitting the perfect angle, as if he had mapped out every way to fuck you long before this moment.
"Tell me again," he murmured, his body pressing closer, his chest brushing against your back. His breath was hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "How you’re the one in control, name. I’d love to hear it."
For all his gentlemanly charm, William could truly be insistent at times. The control he prided himself on could crumble so easily, his reason slipping away as instinct took over. It was almost funny—almost. The way the heat of your pussy wrapped his dick, engulfing him completely, made it impossible for him to think clearly. All that careful composure vanished, his blood rushing south until he felt dizzy with pleasure.
He paused, his moans growing louder as he began grinding in slow circles. You felt your arousal trailing down your thighs, threatening to stain the leather seats beneath you
"Oh my fucking god," William muttered, pulling away, slick coating his lips and chin as he stared at the mess you’d made. "Look at that pretty pussy. So wet, all for me." A soft slap to your ass had your body jolting.
You let out a breathless laugh, your head dropping forward as your fingers clawed at the edge of the seat. "You talk too much."
"Stop pretending you don’t love it," he murmured, his voice rough but steady as his eyes locked onto yours. His pupils were blown wide, his golden hair damp and sticking to his forehead from the heat between you.
His pace slowed, his hand sliding around to your abdomen as his thrusts grew more intentional. His palm pressed against your skin, right over the spot where he could feel the motion of his cock inside you, eager to see your expressions.
You felt yourself nearing the edge of climax, and you knew he was just at the same point. The slick noises intensified with each of his final thrusts into you.
"If you stain my car, you will clean it, okay?" you chuckled, your voice breathy, as he massaged your clit in circular motions while rolling his hips. You moaned loudly, the dizzy sensation in your head reaching its apex, your vision momentarily going black.
"Don't worry," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "I’ll clean it every time, dear."
He bit his lip as he reached the edge, pulling out of you and wrapping his hand around his length. Pumping up and down along his flushed shaft, he moaned your name, circling the tip with his thumb until sticky ropes of cum painted your back white.
You looked at him and sat down, your legs trembling, your skin slick with sweat and stained with his cum. "I’m exhausted. God."
"I am no god, name," he smirked teasingly, pulling a cloth from the car door compartment to clean you. "But I can be your boyfriend."
"As if I’d let you have me this easily," you huffed, crossing your arms. "We still have two hours left, and you just lost your driver."
"Go, go, math genius. I’ll help you with the GPS," you added nonchalantly, pushing him lightly and pointing to the steering wheel.
He pecked your cheek and ruffled your hair. "I’d do it even if you hadn’t asked."
William reached for his boxers, pulling them up his legs and over his hips in one swift motion. He grabbed his jeans next, stepping into them and tugging them into place before fastening the button and belt.
He opened the car door and stepped out, the sound of his shoes faint against the ground as he moved around to the driver’s side. Once there, he opened the door, slid into the seat, and adjusted it slightly, his hands steady as they found the steering wheel.
"But I’ll really need your help to understand these maps," he pouted. "I’m a mathematician, but this type of technology is a no for me."
You sighed, sitting down next to him after putting your clothes back on. "I hope this place is actually relaxing and interesting."
"Let’s go, darling," he said with a smile. "I’m paying for it anyway."
So William always sleeps like "🧍♀️". He literally doesn't move at all. If you go to bed after him, you'll have to cuddle on his side. You can even lay on top of him, or throw a leg around him, he doesn't mind. But like bro's not changing position.
If you've already gotten into bed, and you're sleeping on your side, usually he spoons you from behind. He hugs you protectively and kisses the top of your head. When he's feeling more vulnerable and wants to be spooned, he'll sneak into your arms and tuck his head into your chest.
Now if you sleep on your back, he'll cling onto you like a coala, wrap both arms and legs around you. He actually enjoys it very much.
Also I feel like, even after years of marriage, he always sleeps fully clothed. What a gentleman. Though if you want to remove your nightwear because of the heat, or sensory issues or whatever, or even want to sleep butt naked he doesn't gaf. He's just as courteous and gentlemanly, holding you in his arms as if you're the most precious thing in the world (+ he brings you your robe first thing in the morning).
And no, he doesn't get 'distracted'. He's a fully grown man, he can very well control himself.
Generally he's very comfortable to sleep with, like a teddy bear. He's cuddly and loves this kind of non sexual intimacy.
-long seperate posts based on the fluff slow dancing prompt + kissing others hand (or is this case character kissing the readers hand) prompt for Williams moriarty x fem! Reader and Albert James moriarty x fem! reader at a masquerade ball where the reader and him are dating? Plz make it as tooth rottingly fluff as u possibly can lol! Thx a bunch!
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{Masquerade Ball}
☰[Main list]•⊰ Moriarty the Patriot
↬[A/N]•⊰ sorry I couldn't do it separated. Hope you enjoy it 💚🫂
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[Albert]
Albert notices you fanning yourself from the heat of the ballroom and offers his arm. "Come, let’s get some air." He leads you to the balcony, where the moonlight casts a soft glow over both of you.
He takes your hand in his, tracing idle patterns over your fingers before lifting it to his lips.
Albert’s kiss is slow, deliberate, almost reverent. "I’ve been waiting all evening to do that," he admits with a gentle smile.
As the distant music plays, he pulls you into a slow dance right there on the balcony, humming along. "You’re the only one who makes me wish these nights would never end."
Albert is the type to open doors, pull out chairs, and offer his coat when you’re cold. His love language is acts of service and tender affection.
He loves kissing your forehead when you least expect it, while reading together, or before parting ways. "For luck," he’ll say.
Unlike William, Albert prefers subtle affection in public. a hand on the small of your back, fingers brushing as you walk. But in private? He’s endlessly doting.
Albert has spent years playing the perfect nobleman, but with you, he doesn’t have to pretend.
He notices everything. the way you bite your lip when concentrating, how you hum absentmindedly while reading. It’s these little things he treasures.
When you’re stressed, he brings you tea exactly how you like it, just to see your shoulders relax.
After a lifetime of masks, your honesty is his salvation. One night, drunk on warmth and firelight, he confesses, "I used to think love was a weakness. But you… you make it feel like armor."
He’ll kneel to fix the hem of your dress, kiss your forehead when you’re half-asleep, and defend you with a smile sharper than any blade. "Hurt her," he tells an arrogant lord, "and I’ll show you why the Moriarty name is feared." (Then he turns back to you and adjusts your shawl like nothing happened.)
Albert notices you fanning yourself and offers his arm. "The stars are lovely tonight," he says, leading you outside.
He shrugs off his tailcoat and wraps it around you when you shiver. "Better?" His thumb strokes your shoulder absently, like he can’t stop touching you.
With no music, he hums a waltz against your hair, swaying gently. You rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "I could stay like this forever," he admits, voice soft. When you laugh and say "Even if the party ends?" he tightens his hold. "Especially then."
He lifts your hand, studying it like a treasure. "Did you know," he murmurs, pressing his lips to each fingertip, "that in France, this is how gentlemen vow devotion?" His mouth lingers on your ring finger. "A shame I don’t have a ring… yet."
He walks you home, arm-in-arm. At your door, he cups your face, his forehead resting against yours. "Dream of me," he whispers. Just as you turn to leave, he pulls you back for one last kiss—chaste but aching with tenderness. "Until tomorrow."
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[William]
A grand masquerade ball in London, hosted by the Moriarty household. You and William are secretly dating, and tonight, he’s determined to steal every moment with you.
William personally delivers your mask, a delicate silver piece with intricate lace detailing, matching his own. "Wear this, my love. I want to find you in the crowd without anyone else knowing it’s you."
Amidst the swirling waltz, he pulls you close, his gloved hand resting firmly on your waist. The music slows, and so do the two of you, foreheads nearly touching. "Do you know how breathtaking you are tonight?" he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear.
When the dance ends, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles. But then—because he can’t resist—he turns your hand and places another kiss on your palm, his golden eyes locked onto yours. "A promise," he whispers. "Later, when we’re alone, I’ll repay this debt properly."
To the outside world, William is a man of cold calculation, a genius who moves people like chess pieces. But with you? He’s ruined.
He could predict every move you’d make, your tells, the way your breath hitches when he’s near. but he doesn’t want to. For the first time, he enjoys being surprised. The way you laugh at his dry jokes, how you challenge him without fear… it fascinates him.
He craves it.
"You’re My Only Exception" He’s spent his life manipulating emotions, but yours disarm him completely. When you trace the scars on his hands, he doesn’t flinch.
Instead, he turns his palm up to intertwine your fingers. "I didn’t believe in miracles until you."
He hates sharing you. If someone flirts, his smile stays polite, but his grip on your waist tightens. Later, he’ll murmur against your neck, "Tell me you’re mine. I need to hear it." And when you do? He kisses you like a man starved.
William adores making you blush in public. lingering touches, whispered compliments, stealing kisses behind curtains. He loves the thrill of almost getting caught.
He kisses your hands often, but each time, it’s different. sometimes playful, sometimes possessive, always leaving you flustered.
He’s an excellent dancer and uses it as an excuse to hold you close. If you stumble, he’ll just smile and say, "I’ve got you. Always."
William gifts you that lace mask, matching his. "So even in a crowd of thousands," he murmurs, tying it behind your head, "I’d recognize you by the way your breath catches when I touch you."
The orchestra plays a waltz, and William’s hand slides to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. His lips brush your temple as he whispers, "Every step you take is a calculated move to ruin me, darling." When you tease him about being dramatic, he spins you out. then yanks you back, your chests colliding. "Ah, but you love it," he purrs.
Between dances, he drags you into a shadowed alcove, pressing you against the wall. His fingers tilt your chin up as he hovers just inches away.
"Tell me to stop," he challenges. When you don’t, he kisses you—slow, deep, and thorough. until you’re clutching his lapels for balance.
He walks you home, his coat draped over your shoulders. At your doorstep, he kisses your hand. then your wrist, then the inside of your elbow—each touch burning through the fabric. "Next time, I won’t let you go home at all."
Smutty William drabble go brrrrrr
(Inspired by the song Run Baby Run - Dutch Melrose)
Word count: 2.1k
Content Warning: p.i.v, unprotected smexy times (wrap it before you tap it, kiddos!), praise kink, brief mentions of kidnapping, mild gore in the first like two paragraphs, character death (not William or Reader), tooth rotting fluff, oral (fem receiving), breeding kink, possessive William, humorous ending, my man William is a little subby at heart, but he's still a top but a SERVICE TOP ahuigddjaio;hgdp
Minors d.n.i
*************
You had been taken from him.
Some rich nobleman, furious that his biggest investors were being strategically killed off like flies. He had tracked it down to one man, William Moriarty.
But oh, did he want the man to suffer. So he took the one thing William held dear. His sweet wife, Y/N.
But, it had backfired.
William was more than happy to sink the knife deep into his jugular. He relished in the red oozing from the wound, smiling gleefully.
You were behind him, still tied up and paralyzed in fear on the floor. Your eyes were closed, just like William told you to.
You felt yourself be swept up into his arms, the sensation of his footsteps and his thumping heart reverberating through your entire body.
"You can open your eyes now." He was setting you onto a plush mattress, likely one of your captors guest rooms.
You took in William's face. Concern was etched on his porcelain skin, the corners of his mouth downturned with worry.
"Please, please tell me you're alright. Tell me I got to you in time. Tell me he didn't hurt you." His arms were wrapped around your torso now, gripping you like you would float away if he let go. William's forehead was resting gingerly on your shoulder.
Your own hand came up to cradle his head, "Yes. I'm alright, my beloved. I'm so happy you found me."
He looked back up at you, but your lips were crashing into his before he could speak.
Though surprised, he kissed you back almost immediately. It was if all the adrenaline had turned into want within moments.
He finally had you again. You were finally safe, back in his arms.
The kiss turns deeper. Your hands are now clutching him, fingers tangled in his golden hair. You pull back for a moment, only to see that he's blushing.
"I missed you, Will..."
Gulping, he gasped out, "Oh, my darling... I thought I'd lost you." His hands wandered down, clasping onto your waist, "I thought I'd never get you back. I can't be without you..."
His right hand hovered over your thighs, and he looked up at you for permission.
"Do whatever you want to do. You are my knight in shining armor, after all." You smiled at him. You were exhausted, but something about the relief and elation on his face made you gain a bit of your strength back.
Strong fingers groped your ass with a tenderness only your dear lover could have. You shed your bodice and undersleeve, discarding it somewhere across the room. You didn't want to see it after this. His lips found yours once more, sweet nothings being whispered between every one.
"I finally have you again..."
He mouthed lower, this time along the underside of your jaw.
"I was so scared for you..."
Your neck this time. A mark is being sucked upon your fragile skin, which he soothes with his tongue. Simultaneously, the strings of your corset are being undone. He has very little trouble with it. After all, it was the same corset he had helped you put on days prior. You took a few deep breaths once you were relieved of it, trying to calm your racing heart.
You had missed his scent. The softness of his hair. The smooth feeling of his skin. Everything. You had missed your William.
Finally, your petticoat and overskirt are practically ripped off your body, thrown away with the rest of your clothes. He pulled back to admire you, and you saw his pupils dilate as he looked you up and down. Just seeing your unmarred skin gave him more relief than he knew he was capable of feeling.
You saw his hands hesitate, lifted awkwardly above your breasts with apprehension.
"Darling, you won't break me." Rolling your eyes, your hands grabbed his, guiding him to palm your chest. He exhaled shakily, like he was trying to hold himself back.
"Maybe we shouldn't do this," Despite his hesitation, he wasn't pulling back, "We should get you home first..."
You stopped him with a finger to his lips, "My dear, if you don't make love to me this instant, I'm walking out the front door nude."
Sanguine eyes widened, his pallor flushing, "O-oh. Alrighty then."
Your back hit the bed with a soft thud, and he was caging you in below him. You could feel his hardness against your hip, but he seemed to pay no mind to that. He was too busy suckling on your right breast to even notice his own arousal. You felt his tongue circle your nipple, before delivering a gentle nip with his teeth. Your other breast was being fondled, while his free hand rubbed comforting circles into your thigh.
Heavy lidded eyes gazed up at your face, taking in your sweet features. All you could do in response was give him a kind smile.
"You're doing so good, William."
His eyes unfocused then, and you could see his mind get all syrupy with desire.
"You saved me. I'm all yours, my love. Forever."
You felt his spare hand go lower, now groping your plush thighs. All the while, he continued his loving assault on your chest. He eventually popped off your skin, panting like he'd run a marathon.
"You had your fill yet?" Your hand covered your mouth as you tried to suppress a giggle.
He shook his head, "Never. But, I feel I've been neglecting the sweetest parts of you..."
His palms found your inner thighs, spreading your legs with a gentleness only he could ever show you. He dove into your sweet core without hesitation, lapping at your wetness like he was a man dying of thirst.
Oh god, did it feel heavenly.
Your fingers wove themselves into his hair, subconsciously pushing him deeper into your heat. He obliged happily, moaning at the taste he had been deprived of. His lips found your clit, sucking it harshly in a way that had you squirming.
"Oh my god, William-! Feels- Feels so good!" You babbled incoherently. After days of fear, it was as though all your senses had been heightened by adrenaline. The feeling of him tasting you was near maddening.
He hummed in response, which only sent more sensations to your poor rosebud. Two fingers were circling your opening, one of them plunging in.
He lifted up for just a moment. You could see his chin shining from your slick.
"Tell me if I'm going too fast, my angel."
Another finger. You subconsciously clenched your thighs around his head at the stretch.
He shushed you tenderly, "Shhh. It's okay. You're doing so good. Just relax into it."
Scissoring his digits apart, you hissed in discomfort, but it was soon drowned out by another moan as he continued his ministrations on your clit. Once you loosened around him, he added another, finally prodding at your most sensitive spots. You felt another rush of slick dribble out of you in response, which he drank up greedily.
"Oh fuck, angel, you're so damn perfect..." He finally lifted up, pinning your hips down with his arm as he continued to finger you, "I swear I'm going to make you forget about everything that's happened here. You won't remember a single bad thing. It will all be replaced by me. I promise."
He stopped his abuse on your sensitive core, finally unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them down frantically. Once his underwear was gone, his hard arousal sprung free, bumping against your thigh as he hovered over you.
"Do you think you're ready, my love?" His hands spread your thighs once more. You didn't even realize you had closed them.
Nodding, you huffed out a response, "Yes, my dear. I'm always ready. Please... Please just ruin me."
He tutted, guiding his length to line up with your center, "If that's what my darling wife requests..."
You felt the head of his member push itself into you. Despite his prep earlier, it was still a stretch, and your fingers found purchase in his back.
"I'll ruin you as much as you want, love."
He slammed the rest of his length into you, and you nearly screamed his name as he pounded your cervix head on. Despite it only being days since you two last made love, he still felt absolutely massive inside you. You don't think you'll ever get used to it.
But, you're okay with it. Especially with how good he could hit your g-spot with every thrust.
One arm was used to keep himself steady on the bed, the other was fondling your breasts again, "Look at you. All mine..." His mouth went to your collar, nipping at your sensitive skin, "No one will take you from me ever again. No one- No one!"
A harder bite. You knew you'd be covered in marks after this.
Your hands grasped his suit tie, "Fuck, please my love, take your shirt off. Please."
He grunted, stripping off his vest and tie, still pounding into you with vigor. Your fingers shakily unbuttoned his dress shirt, discarding it as well. With him finally being fully nude, your nails dug into his back, only spurring him on to continue destroying you.
It was like his hardness was carving out a space inside of you, ruining you for anyone besides him. Fitting together perfectly, like it was always meant to be like this. Like it was always supposed to be you and your sweet William, together, against the rest of the world.
You gasped out curses as his fingers found your clit again, rubbing gentle circles in the way he knew you loved. It like your very blood was on fire, screaming out for more. You wanted every bit of pleasure and relief he could give to you. Luckily, he was happy to give it.
"Fuck, Will- I'm so close-!" You buried your head into his shoulder, biting back moans and curses.
You could feel him nod above you, "I know, my dear. Don't be afraid. Cum for me. Let go."
With a final harsh pinch on your clit, you felt yourself shatter apart like fragile glass.
Your vision nearly whited out, and you could hear high pitched moaning of his name. It took you a second to realize that the moaning was yours. Your nails felt something warm beneath them, and you could faintly register that you had clawed him so hard you had drawn a bit of blood. But he didn't seem to care, still fucking you through your high.
"Y/n, I'm getting close too..." He groaned, trying not to lose his mind at the feeling of you clenching around him.
"Inside-! Cum inside, please, William!" You were near delirious at this point. Normally, both of you were so cautious about letting him cum inside. It was risky, after all. But right now, after he had finally saved you? Now that you were safe in his arms again? You couldn't find yourself to give a damn about any risks.
He was panting into your skin, mouthing at your neck, "Oh my god- Are you sure? Y/n, you have to tell me you're sure-" He broke off with a moan, and one of his hands gripped your side for dear life.
"Yes! Fuck yes!" you were wailing his name, clinging onto him. Clinging onto your beloved darling.
"Oh fuck-! I'm gonna cum. Y/n, I'm gonna cum-!"
He bit down on your shoulder as he came, and it was as though fireworks were exploding inside his head. Spurts of hot cum shot into you, and you could vaguely feel the warmth spread inside. He was grunting, groaning out your name and curses you couldn't quite understand. Vaguely, you could feel your shoulder ache where he had bit you, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.
Finally, he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily. His cloudy eyes searched your face, "Are you alright still, my love? I- I didn't mean to go so rough..." He sheepishly avoided your eyes, instead choosing to gaze down at your chest.
"You dare ask me that after we literally just made love? Amazingly so?" You laughed, hands coming up to cradle his face. You could see a tint of red on your fingertips, and you grimaced, "I didn't mean to go so rough either..."
He shook his head, "Nonsense. I barely even felt that..." Sighing, his head resting upon your bosom, "Goodness, the others are probably looking for us now. I had told Fred to bring you your pajamas..."
As if on cue, there was a knock on the door, and you both gasped. Scrambling to cover you, William called out, "Fred? Is that you?"
A moment of silence, before a quiet voice continued, "Yes, Lord Moriarty. I brought Y/n's nightgown. Is she there with you? May I come in?"
"NO!" You both shouted, and you could faintly hear Moran outside the door as well, trying to cover his laughter.
"Do'ya want us to just leave her stuff outside here then? Y'can come and grab it when you need it?" Moran was speaking now, his gruff voice light with humor, "I take it you two are... Busy?"
Your face flushed, but your husband barely seemed to care. He was just happy to have you back.
"Yes, Mr. Moran. I'll come collect it in a minute. You two may take your leave and wait in the carriage, if you need."
He looked back at you, taking in your half covered figure on last time before kissing your cheek.
God I just had the funniest idea after watching the tea party ova of Moriarty the Patriot…
Just picture their darlings there because they all are a part of the household now.
William’s darling, the shy little thing she is, is just clinging onto William’s arm or near his side the entire time. Half of the ladies present are glaring at her because she is a little street rat who took William’s heart before anyone else could have a chance that they didn’t even have in the first place. The other half of the ladies present are smitten with the adorable little wife of the mathematics professor, like the way a little girl would coo over their baby sibling or new doll that their parents bought them, they offer William to take her off of his hands for a day or perhaps a week, telling her how adorable she would look with a trip to her family’s country home and makeover, perhaps a new wardrobe and- While the ladies ramble on, she is just looking at William with pleading eyes to get her out of there.
Meanwhile Albert’s darling, who was born into nobility is taking the opportunity to visit with some of her old friends who are present, slipping away from Albert to fend for himself with all the ladies present. Many of those ladies she speaks to are the same ladies who have swept William’s darling away to fixate on her, and they are just talking to Albert’s darling while playing with her curls like did she do her hair? Oh she did, well isn’t that just adorable- oh and the earring and necklace she is wearing was a gift from Albert’s darling? Well isn’t that just the sweetest.
Louis’ darling has the most merciful fate because she gets to help her husband and the temporary staff in the kitchen away from all the commotion of the party, though if she does end up nicking herself once with a knife even once Louis will bandage it and send her upstairs so she can read or something, but chances are she will snag Von Herder’s darling from the basement where they are keeping watch over the things the others don’t want found and she will take her upstairs to read with her and people watch from the window.
Then there is Bonde’s and Moran’s darling who get to help out with the party, and by get to help it means they have to help due to all the pleading from each of their partners. The both of them stick close together, gossiping and making notes about the rich ladies at the party and asking each other what the other gets from the other’s partner in order to agree to do this and let’s just saw the answers they give one another they would have to hope none of the guests at the party overhear…
But of course by the end of the party those promises are put on hold due to everyone’s exhaustion. Bonde has his darling cuddled up next to him, his arms pulling the blanket around them both. Moran practically has to carry his darling up to bed because she is ready to fall asleep at any moment and run out the cramps in her legs from her heels. Louis’ darling cleans up the kitchen for him as the temporary staff is dismissed and her husband gets ready for bed. Von Herder’s darling has to pull him out of the basement so the two of them can go to sleep cause if she didn’t he would be down there all night. Albert and his darling go up to bed early and split a bottle of wine between the two of them before they pass out from exhaustion. William helps his darling get undressed and ready for bed and she quickly tells him as they settle into bed how she never wants to do that again and he fully agrees.
