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unbridledbrainrots · 1 year

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A little treat for weary souls

Rating: Mature Length: ~3k words Genre: Modern!AU, smut, slice of (married) life, fluff, romance Warning: Slowburn, consensual & unprotected sex, long foreplay, slightly rough at beginning but vanilla-ish towards ending, body image, size, (slight) praising, markings, fingering, spanking, breeding, and.... it’s supposed to be missionary but somehow she wanted it on top :D Pairing: Sebastian Moran (from Moriarty The Patriot) x OC (named Marjorie Reiss) Notes: Uhh, this is my first time writing explicit smut so spare me! Only little proofread, so so sooo sorry for unnoticed mistakes (my eyes t___t). May also contain inaccuracies. Oh... in case you’re wondering, Marjorie is an actress! And it’s actually for her birthday but I only finished it recently hoho~ happy (late) birthday, dear Marjorie! <3

Ever since the birth of their twins last November, Sebastian and Marjorie barely had their time together. Their eyebags got darker and heavier due to lack of sleep. Their usual banter gradually changed into words of comfort, warm cups of tea, and tender massages. So far, there was no major issue in taking care of their beloved newborns. They were just being too careful not to (accidentally) offend each other; moreover, Marjorie was still in her most sensitive phase—even sometimes Sebastian found her unconsciously weeping in her sleep.

One night, after tucking their children in bed, Sebastian joined Marjorie to watch a film together in the living room. They knew they would fall asleep in the middle of the film, but that was the least they could do to distract themselves at late night.

“You forgot to cover them,” he said as he sat next to her.

“Ah—thanks,” she replied without shifting her gaze from the TV, still looking for any film they hadn’t watched yet. She just realised that she forgot to tuck them as soon as she finished feeding them; and it was no longer surprising for him.

Sebastian kept looking at his dearest wife. Set and unbothered. But he felt something wrong happened to her as he knew that she would, at least, take a glance whenever she talked to him. He already found the answer yet he still wanted to test her

“Marje?”

“Hm?” Marjorie reclined on the sofa as she finally picked the film. Then, she rested her head on his shoulder with her eyes stayed straight to the screen.

“Are you okay?” His first question, and she shrugged it off. No, he wouldn’t stop asking her even though the film was showing its opening credit. The second question was invasive yet it hit the spot. “Did you read the comments, sweetheart?” She shushed him in a flash. Gotcha, he didn’t specify it, but her response was enough to confirm his speculation. Then, as he was about to throw the final question, she cut in with an unexpected answer.

“Can we—”

“Not with this body.”

Right, Marjorie had always been self-conscious about her postpartum body. And of course, Sebastian reassured her countlessly. In fact, he encouraged her to eat happily and not restrict herself on a certain diet until their babies grew into toddlers. However, as much as she tried to stay private about her life, she was still a subject in mainstream media; and thus, malicious comments were inevitable. Perhaps she accidentally saw one and it affected her mood throughout the night.

Regarding that last question, Sebastian actually was asking for her consent, but he didn’t intend to have sex with her; he was merely reaffirming his assumption. And somehow her hasty answer raised his brows in surprise. He hadn’t finished his question yet she directly refused it as if she knew the full question; moreover, she prolonged her answer dubiously instead of declining it with a simple “no.”

“But I haven’t finished it?”

“Oh—” Marjorie rose from her rest and finally looked at him. A deep sigh came out from her mouth; she realised that she had unconsciously slipped her tongue. Deep down, she was craving for his touch indeed, but she was too reluctant to voice it. Her self-consciousness had made her slightly lose her usual self.

Sebastian smiled then patted her head, “it’s okay. People are surely so mean over a harmless thing.” But all of a sudden, he leaned closer to her ear and teasingly whispered, “which is why I don’t get all those hatreds for simply being the hottest woman ever.” His breath tickled her ear, enough to make her flushed in embarrassment. Her hand quickly shut his mouth and pushed him away a bit.

“B-Bash, that’s cringe!”

He quietly chuckled upon hearing her grumble; but the tease wouldn’t stop there. He then grabbed her hand that covered his mouth and kissed it, “I’m sorry, just please don’t push yourself too hard.”

Marjorie frowned, “w-what?! What’s with this nonse—”

A kiss successfully landed on her lips as he gently pulled her closer. It was a long and deep kiss that made her freeze. She secretly liked it as if his lips thawed her palisade of apprehension. However, as she tried to close her eyes to feel the kiss, he abruptly ended it, to which it disappointed her. She wanted more of him and, at last, she uttered it.

“Do it a-again,” she murmured.

“Eh?”

A green light? Well, Sebastian didn’t expect this outcome as mentioned before that he had no intention at all; but concurrently, he was relieved that she didn’t have to bottle up her feelings anymore. Honestly, he also had been holding his desire and kept waiting until she was fully ready. And after she explicitly gave him her consent, he finally made his move.

“Alright, I’ll be slow,” he took off her glasses and placed them on the coffee table. Then, his lips quickly locked hers; this time, it wasn’t one-sided. And it evolved into an explosion of their pent-up lust as every kiss they planted became deeper yet sloppier, with their respective tongues slid into each other’s mouth, allowing their excessive saliva to gloss their lips. They were out of breath, but their tongues wouldn’t stop tangling themselves for a mere dominance. Each pant filled the room and harmonised together with the neglected film. They could take it slow as what he promised, but they were too stubborn; they were truly longing for one another.

He even prepared a pillow for her head before he laid her down gently. And now, she was in his confinement—a warm and comfy confinement. But not long after, she suddenly broke the kiss.

“Hold on!” She said between her pants, “t-turn it off, we’re not watching it afterall.”

Sebastian looked at Marjorie and then he placed his hand on her chubby cheek, caressing it with his thumb. Her eyes slightly closed as if they told him that she was worn out, but there was a heap of lust behind that gaze. Her breath was still unsteady. And her lips were polished a little with a mix of their saliva. Somehow he felt guilty for pushing her to fulfill his ego despite her consent, but he knew she didn’t want this to end; and if they truly stopped, one possible scenario would be her sulking at him for days.

No, they wouldn’t. And he pecked her lips before teasing her again, “why? Let it watch us instead.”

Marjorie let out a loud gasp as Sebastian preyed on her neck in haste; licking, then nibbling down from her chin to neck, and some spots were sucked deeply to leave purplish marks on her skin. Ah… slow my arse! Her fingers already gripped his hair. His hand was busy unbuttoning her pyjamas; and when the last button finally parted from its hole, his forefinger brushed her hardened nipple in circular motion; all done while his mouth was still relishing her neck and collarbone. Her bitten lower lips slowly loosened into soft whimpers as he trailed his mouth down to her ample breast and immediately devoured it.

“Haa—ah! You said you’re going to be s—ahh, fuck!” One mouth bit then sucked, creating another mark near her areola; and his tongue licked that leaked milk before latching onto it like a baby. One hand fondled her vacant boob and occasionally titillated its nipple. She could be mad as hell because he made her as if she was his prey; besides, her breasts would be slightly hurt for the next feeding. Yet she loved this balanced combination of pain and pleasure, to the point that she almost yanked his hair.

Seeing her squirming beneath his embrace had surely made him aroused. His penis slowly stuffed his briefs, and her knees unintentionally brushed his crotch. He enjoyed it; he really enjoyed the way she teased his dick like she begged for more. And of course, while he was latching, his hand that played with hers travelled down to her shorts. At first, it was merely a couple of presses to her covered vulva with his fingers, but his desire drove him to slide his whole hand under her undies and playfully caress her bare pussy. Her grip on his hair tightened, and somehow he wasn’t bothered with that. All she could utter was either a moan or cuss, or a mix of both; and for him, that was blissful music to his ears.

But suddenly, Sebastian stopped, leaving Marjorie whimpering in protest. “My, my, someone is so impatient tonight,” he teased her before he took off his tee and tossed it behind him, flaunting his god-like body, “that’d be selfish if you’re the only one who’s naked.” Again, he finished his sentence in such cheesy way that she could only whine as a response. As he was about to savour her lower body, she immediately covered it with her hands.

“No! Don’t look at it!”

He smiled; then he gently moved her hands to both sides, exposing her abdomen. Her pooch was still there although it had shrunk slightly compared to last month. Those stretch marks and linea nigra were also still there, adorning her belly with their lovely streaks. And down to her bikini line, the surgery scar was still visible; it was no longer red and itchy stripe, it was now just an obscure scar. He didn’t understand the unnecessary hate that she got for this body; no, he never understood. To him, who witnessed her whole journey, her current body was a medal for being the strongest fighter.

“No, it’s beautiful,” he kissed every inch of her tummy, including her scar. Her fingers slowly combed his unruly hair as he was still tickling her with feathery kisses; somehow she was flattered by the compliment.

Sebastian wasn't as rough as earlier. After he gave a final kiss to her surgery scar, he removed her shorts then undies gently. At first, he had an evil thought of marking her inner thighs but he immediately called off that idea; her upper body had already been stained with purplish marks, and he knew he would be pinched as an aftercare.

And instead, he reassured her, “Marje, if it hurts, remember the safeword, okay?”

Ah, better late than never! Marjorie then nodded in reply. “Good girl,” Sebastian said before he lowered himself and slowly licked her vulva; firstly from the opening then up to the clitoris several times, then he swirled his tongue downwards into her vagina. She pulled his hair again, her moan was louder than before, and her thighs squeezed his head as he added one finger into her moistened pussy and slowly thrust it. Meanwhile, his tongue moved back to her clit, stimulating her with constant licking.

“Bash, p-please—aahhh—”

Two. Sebastian slid another finger and continued pushing those fingers inside out while his tongue was still arousing her clit. He felt her walls gradually swelled as he increased his pace slightly. And it was heaven for Marjorie: toes curled, thighs squeezed him further (even he had to part one of them so he could have a room for breathing), body squirmed, and head was thrown back to the pillow. She loved that sensation, that tingling and thrilling sensation. He definitely knew how to please her.

She then felt the blood rush from head to toe as her cunt pulsated, wanting to pour out her juice, but she consciously held it. “It’s okay, don’t hold it, sweetheart,” he soothed her. Usually, he instructed her to keep it until he allowed her to cum; as for now, he didn’t want to force her. And a few seconds later, she exhaled a deep sigh as her cunt finally exuded its cum. He pulled out his fingers, licking them clean.

However, just as he was about to reach inside his pocket, he froze; shit, he forgot to bring a condom! And the nearest place to get one was in their bedroom. Normally, he would pocket one in case of emergency. Roughly a year and a half absence had surely made him accustomed to sexless life—well, not necessarily off, they actually had it twice when her bump got bigger and both were unprotected. Or, perhaps, he got too carried away by the whole situation. Unfortunately, he had no choice but to excuse himself to get a sheath.

“Marje?”

“Uhmmh?”

“Can I get—”

“No need to.” She knew it.

“Maaarje…” He pleaded although it was useless.

She shook her head. And he only sighed; she was indeed that stubborn.

“But, Bash…”

“Hm?”

“Can we sit?”

He suddenly chuckled, then he stretched his hands to help her, “as you wish, Your Marjesty.”

After Marjorie rose from the sofa, Sebastian quickly took off his pants as well as briefs underneath it, revealing his big and twitching cock, with his pre-cum coating its tip. Then, he reclined his back and pulled her closer. They stared at each other, exchanging weary yet lustful gazes. His fingers caressed her crotch, wiping off the remaining cum and using it to lubricate his erected dick. She positioned herself, and then she lowered her body, allowing his cock to penetrate her cunt. They both groaned in unison; her nails clawed his shoulder, his grip on her waist tightened, and now she finally straddled his lap. It was followed by a long silence for her to adjust herself; somehow, it still perfectly fitted in hers.

“You’re pretty. As always,” he broke the silence. Her cheeks reddened, her lips curved shyly into a smile; perhaps, he wanted to cool her down as he saw a slight nervousness in her face when she positioned herself. “Go ahead, sweetheart, don’t be shy,” he pecked her lips to comfort her again.

Then, she started to move her hips up and down, carefully thrusting his penis.at slow pace. It had been a while since their last, so the first couple of thrusts were quite strange as she tried to find her own tempo back. As she already found her tempo, she sped up a little. Her lower body felt full, and the tingling sensation was still there. But she loved it; that was what had been missing in her for several months. She loved how big and thick his dick glided into her wet pussy. She loved how it grazed through her narrow canal. She loved how it perfectly hit her spot. She loved the way her muscles also rubbed it tenderly. She loved that it sent her to the cloud nine.

And their tongues were slightly numb for emitting a word or two. Their minds were also in their sweetest chaos; they loved the feeling, but they were torn between moaning or talking.

“A-ahh, ahh, ahmmh—! Am I—am I doing it well?” Marjorie asked him breathlessly. Her hand held his shoulder tightly, while another hand simultaneously fondled her own tit and teased its nipple to add more pleasure.

Sebastian spanked her arse; not that hard, it was merely a regular butt slap. “Very well—aahh—that’s it, honey. You’re doing it so well,” he held her waist as she hastened her pace, pushing his cock deeper until her cunt touched his base. “Fuckhh—” He threw his head to the back while his thumb was caressing her clit.

Moans became growls; their noises filled the room together with the sound of slapping skins. All those sounds competed against the TV for being the loudest. And her thrust grew sloppier; his cock was fully coated with their pre-cums. “I’ll finish it,” he offered her to take over but she refused. He then felt a knot suddenly, “a-ahh—a-alright, together.” And perhaps she felt it too as she accelerated her thrust until her limit.

He pulled her closer to his embrace as she slowed down. He squeezed her arse and gave a final push. And finally, they became one; their fluids melded together into something that warmed them inside. Their bodies were sticky from their own sweats. Their hot and heavy breath brushed each other’s skin, tickling their senses after cumming. Now their heads were lighter than earlier. He snuggled to her generous tits afterwards, while caressing her back. At the same time, she patted his head before giving him a kiss on his forehead.

“As expected, you never lose your energy for th—aaack!” Sebastian yelped as he was about to liven up the atmosphere but Marjorie quickly interrupted with a hard pinch on his arm.

“Shut up! It’s unfair that you’re the only one who’s clean!” She scolded him. But she was right, the only mark he got was a gash caused by her nails; meanwhile, her torso was strewn with love marks.

“Hm? Why, though? Am I forbidden to satisfy a birthday girl now?”

“H-huh?” She cupped his face, staring at him with her eyes full of confusion, “b-birth—day girl?!”

He lifted his brows in surprise while tucking her messy hair behind her ear, “you must be so exhausted that you forget your own birthday.” Then, he pecked her lips, again, to comfort her, “even I already took a leave for this day—”

“No, no, Bash, do you even remember today’s date?”

“I should be the one who asks this, sweetheart. Hold on,” he stretched one arm to reach her phone and immediately showed the screen to her. He was correct; it was two in the morning now, on the tenth day of May.

“Ah—”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay to be forgetful, just like I forgot to pocket a—”

She covered his mouth with her hand, preventing him from saying something nonsensical again. She then leaned her head closer to him and whispered, “shall we do it again?”

Under her palm, his lips curved into a smirk. His mind was definitely tickled. He slowly shifted her hand from his mouth, demolishing the barrier between them.

“You naughty kitten.”

However, as they were a centimeter closer to aggressively kiss each other, a mewl roared from their bedroom. They paused awkwardly for a moment. Alright, time to take care of the twins again!

“Well, I guess… next time?” Sebastian calmed Marjorie while giggling.

“Next time?”

He confidently nodded, “next time.”

#yume #fanfic #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #sebastian moran #sebastian moran x oc

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unbridledbrainrots · 1 year

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Home is (never) far away

Rating: Restricted Length: ~1,4k words Genre: Canon-divergence, angst, a little comfort in the middle Pairing: Sebastian Moran (from Moriarty The Patriot) x OC (named Emmanuelle “Emma” Rousseau/Greta) Notes: Back again with my project hohoho~ this one is set before the entente on chapter 60... oh definitely breaking the rules of historical accuracy, proofread as always but maybe some things left unnoticed, also... there’s (implied) mention of William in the middle of the story. Enjoy! P.S. Please listen to Taylor Dayne’s Love Will Lead You Back to enhance the experience.

The stool shrieked as the four legs rubbed the old wooden floor backwards. A woman perched on that pulled seat, and let herself lost in her own thoughts of which liquor should she drink. The pub was relatively crowded since it was late afternoon. And in a few hours, there would be a reception party at the nearby hotel—in which Emmanuelle Rousseau was assigned there to assist one of the ambassadors in an agreement between two longtime rivals; hence, she still had time to sneak out awhile.

“Do you have brandy?” That was very out of the blue from her who regularly savoured white wine in a pub whenever she was on her own. Perhaps she was tense these past days due to heightened workload, so she needed a quick and easy escape through today’s choice.

“Sure, in seconds.”

Emma smiled as the bartender served her order in a snifter, “thanks.” Then her hands cupped the glass, letting the warmth from her body seeped into the liquor. Coming back to London after three years made her mind suddenly reminiscing past memories in the country, be it on or off duty. First sip to quench her stress, she pictured herself lying down on a mattress of grass then thanking God for a clear sky full of glittering stars. Second sip to numb her senses, all those files pressed her head yet her eyes had to read them. And the third to—

“Whiskey. On the rocks, please.” That lifeless voice harmonised with a loud screech from the pulled stool beside her. And the next sequence was a pure idiocy: Emma unconsciously shifted her gaze from her brandy to the newcomer, and that person also did the same as if he knew the previous sound surprised his neighbour. Time froze for them; and their minds were full of cuss and blame, even noisier than the pub itself.

Sebastian Moran and Emmanuelle Rousseau were staring at each other awkwardly and they loathed themselves for it. They never expected their forgotten memories simply arose from the dusty tombs—and it was all because of their foolishness! Shit, they shouldn’t be too responsive to a slight noise. And then the ordered liquors somehow became bland, maybe sour when touching the respective tongues. But they had to clean their rowdy minds first so they still swallowed that to refrain themselves from breaking down. Oh, how funny! They were professionals who had been hiding their true identities from each other, and on top of that their relationship was strictly sexual; but why did they behave as if they were ex-lovers? Did they finally admit that they had crossed the line by chance?

At least, there was a big relief between those curses—they were still alive, although their appearances were like two different worlds. Emma, in his eyes, looked refined as she was supposed to be: well-dressed with a thin layer of makeup and dark rouge on her lips to enhance her beauty. However, for her, Moran seemed like he lost his will to live, probably a few steps closer as a living corpse. His cheekbones indicated a slight loss in his weight, his lower jaw was full of stubble, yet the unfinished revenge she used to see in his eyes came back along with the usual melancholy he bore on his shoulders.

Moran finally sat on the stool, thus making him lost in the staring contest. Emma tightened her grip on the glass before she gulped the remaining brandy in a flash—and none of them realised that they drank their own booze in unison. Silence. A thorny silence. Their lips puckered, reluctant to greet each other, or perhaps they were settling their minds first.

“How are you?”

“How’s life?”

Again, they looked at one another. And they tittered afterwards; at last the tension between them had cooled down a little.

“I’m good,” Emma replied.

“So, your little sister has fully recovered, then?”

“Ah—” Emma was slightly taken aback by his question, but she managed to keep her composure and nodded in reply. Moran knew she lied about the answer, even the whole excuse from three years ago was also a lie. Her face said it all! But he couldn’t be angry at her. No, he wouldn’t do that to her, never; and it was all in the past. Moreover, just to see her once again was enough—and she was like a glimmer in the gloom for him.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

Emma merely smiled then looked down on the table. Everything she wanted to utter was swallowed to her throat; she truly had no courage to ask him back, seeing him miserable somehow made her heart burnt for the second time. Her forefinger danced on that solid wood, enough to distract her for a while.

Then, Moran exhaled deeply soon after he finished his shot. And much to her surprise, he leaned his head on her shoulder. Emma remained silent but she felt the weight of his crumbled world pressing her skin, so close to tear it apart. If he wanted to cry, let him be—she kept that thought in her mind; she didn’t care if one side of her red overcoat became darker as maybe she was the only solace he had.

“Stay. I have nowhere to go.”

“Don’t you have a home, sir?”

“I’ve lost him.”

Sometimes silence was the best response Emma could do, but she stretched her arm to tenderly caress his head as she leaned her head closer, giving him reassurance as best as she could.

“You’ll find your home soon.”

“No—” Moran whimpered. His arms confined her waist as he snuggled closer to her neck. Then a loud snivel deafened Emma slightly, yet her fingers kept brushing his tousled black hair as if his cry never bothered her. “Don’t worry, you’re home even if it’s for a while,” she mouthed those words cowardly, she simply didn’t want him to know because she thought her gesture was enough to comfort him. Five, ten, fifteen, she occasionally looked at the longcase clock near the bar counter; she still had time.

No, twenty. Time’s up! Emma reluctantly tapped his shoulder and whispered, “I’m sorry.” Moran arose from her shoulder and sat straight on his stool. She smiled wistfully as she took out her hanky to wipe his face gently. At this point, she wished she could stay longer with him, even just for a chat, but she still had a duty to perform. And deep down, his heart shattered as she returned the hanky back to her pocket. He finally realised that he yearned for her, yet ironically all he could say was an impossible plea to be fulfilled.

“Why can’t you stay longer?”

“I’m sorry,” Emma apologised again, “I have something important to do, Mr. Moran.”

Moran only sniggered. Ah, now he understood everything about her; no wonder she had been a great liar since day one, no wonder she refused to exchange some words, no wonder she completely distanced herself from him afterwards, it was a perfect disguise executed by a brilliant actress. All of their memories flashed through his eyes. He was a fool, a fool that took him three years to perceive her true colours. And the stubbornness in him still wanted her closer—no, not as a potential enemy, but as a friend to share stories.

“Right, go—”

“I have to go,” Emma took out some money and placed it on the table, “ah, bills on me! Say it’s a treat for a regular though it’s too late.” She ended her sentence with a beam on her face; and that smile might be something Moran would hate for the rest of his life. As she got up from her seat, he grabbed her wrist.

“Can we—can I write a letter to you, Greta?” Moran knew her name wasn’t Greta but that was all he got from her.

“You’re such a strong-willed person, sir. But still, the absolute answer is no.” Of course, Emma would decline it again; at least, their relationship finally received a closure—it was all over before it could begin.

Moran slowly loosened his grip, “well, I guess… good luck, dear.” He then looked at her with a forced smile. He had to let go of her again, and for the last time. “Thanks,” Emma bowed at him before she walked away from the pub. And he could only watch her slowly disappearing into the early twilight.

#yume #fanfic #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot #sebastian moran #sebastian moran x oc

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unbridledbrainrots · 1 year

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Sheets and suspicions

Rating: Restricted Length: ~700 words Genre: Drama? they’re dramatic, and then... canon-divergence! Pairing: Sebastian Moran (from Moriarty The Patriot) x OC (named Greta) Notes: It’s based on chapter 3 in the manga... or more like an extension of it? definitely butchering historical accuracies so deal with it, proofread as always but maybe some things left unnoticed, and oh... it’s actually part of my own mini project!

The last smoke from that rifle had finally fused with the fog. Now that the show was over, Moran stepped back to the room. And just about to return the rifle to the wooden box, a thunder of applause broke the silence. But Moran still leisurely stowed his firearm; he knew the source of that sudden noise.

“Fantastic performance, sir.”

“That’s flattering,” Moran stood up as he finished packing his belongings, then he quickly dressed himself. Never did he, for once, take a glance at the woman he slept with soon after they came together; he was selfishly busy executing the order.

“Oh, c’mon, I’m being genuine!” that woman rose from the bed, wrapping her naked body in sheets. “You almost forget this one, commander,” she then lifted a half-burnt paper, to which it surprised him. No, not the paper; but the way she addressed him that he took the paper and squashed it in a flash.

The woman sniggered, “so my assumption is correct.” Then, she stationed herself at the doorway, watching him groomed his tousled hair. “You’re indeed not a police. Well—I mean they’re useless here!” She simpered before giving her final remark, “but judging by your skills and attitude, there’s no way you’re not a soldier. Or at least, you were.”

“You’re so chatty, Greta.” Moran was definitely provoked by her invasive interrogation since he merely introduced himself with his last name at the tavern. In fact, she was supposed to be asleep during the whole mission; it was all written in the paper he burnt. Yet she only closed her eyes while listening to the orchestra.

“Relax, I consider you as my friend now.” She clearly didn’t want to end the conversation unless he answered her inquiry. Moran glared at her, but she gave him a sentimental look as her response. “‘Cause—ah, thank you. Thank you for avenging her death when none of us could,” she continued with a softer tone.

But Moran ignored her implicit inducement. He had a gut feeling that she was more than just a bar girl. “Your money is on the table,” he tried to end the talk as he walked away from the doorway while carrying his stuff. Still, that woman insisted on letting him go. Her fingers pinched his overcoat; and somehow she felt familiar with the fabric. Then, she sneered in triumph, yet she needed an extra question to push his button.

“Who the hell are you working for, Mr. Moran?”

Moran snickered and turned around, “that’s none of your business, my dear.”

“It’s a mere curiosity. I won’t tell anyone about it.”

Heh, what a siren. Of course, Moran wouldn’t fall for her trap; and to distract her, he landed a kiss on her forehead before he descended the stairs. She was deliberately speechless as she watched his back.

“Ah,” Moran stopped halfway then looked at her, “thank you. You were great, but I didn’t put ‘inquisition’ as a special request for the service.”

——————————

“Your package from the office.”

“Ah, merci!” Her lips held the cigarette as she unsealed that large envelope; then she perched herself on the nearest chair and thoroughly examined the file from the brown paper.

“You’re truly lucky that the director approves this.”

“Sometimes, I have to abuse my status, dearest. Care to take a look?”

“No, no need to. I know it’s that guy.”

She tossed the file to the table soon after she saw the phrase “declared dead.” Two fingers clawed the cigarette and moved it next to the documents. She exhaled an abundance of smoke afterwards, “apparently, that particular client is a ghost—or perhaps I better rephrase it as a cat with eight lives.”

“Well, that’s technically advantageous for him. But you have to be careful, Greta.”

She scoffed, “as long as we don’t interfere, we’re good. Moreover, all these papers haven’t answered one lingering question in my head though, at least, I’ve already got a glimpse of him.” Again, she inhaled the tobacco, letting her body absorb every strand of death. Then, her middle finger tapped a portrait of him from his military days, “well—I think in a few days he will come again to shut me up.”

#yume #fanfic #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #sebastian moran #sebastian moran x oc

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unbridledbrainrots · 1 year

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one of the best parts of being a writer is that YOU can read the updates to the story before anyone else can, no I will not elaborate

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unbridledbrainrots · 1 year

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I knew I love (you)

Rating: PG-15 Length: ~1k words Genre: Modern!AU, slice of life, fluff? oh, slight romance at the end? you know when your bestie suddenly confess they have a crush on you ;) Pairing: Sebastian Moran (from Moriarty The Patriot) x OC (named Marjorie Reiss) Notes: May contain inaccuracies and quick proofread so sorry for some errors! but I think this one is kinda rushed? I’m sorry t____t I was under paracetamol influence sick when writing this

“I’ll see you guys in two days!”

Marjorie waved goodbye to her team as she walked towards the eastern gate of the hall. She couldn’t hide her beam knowing that their last performance received an eight-minute standing ovation. All their blood, sweat, and tears for months had finally paid off. Moreover, in a few weeks, she no longer was the president of the club. Haa, time to embark on a new beginning!

Happy, yet partially still in withdrawal. She twirled and frolicked through the hallway, swinging a big paper bag filled with congratulatory flowers like a little kid got their first meal set as a reward. The sound of contented tread mixed with random hum echoed the whole area. And someone was smiling at the end of the hallway after hearing those distinctive footsteps.

“Need a ride home, Ms. Director?” That familiar voice made Marjorie pause her walk; she was a few meters away from the exit.

Simpering, she turned around, “this late, Mr. Moran?” She playfully tilted her head from side to side as she approached her longtime friend.

“Today’s report said it’ll be raining cats and dogs this midnight. Yet I know you never bring an umbrella in such a particular situation and,” Sebastian passed her a bundle of roses, “you always take a bus after a big performance.”

“Ooh, I may open up a shelter next morning then,” she replied jokingly while taking the bouquet off from his right hand. And he bartered the bouquet with the paper bag from her hand.

Her eyes scanned through the flower arrangement. Black and red, all together in a perfect dozen, wrapped tightly in a soft white paper…

“Great work, as usual,” he patted her head. He knew she merely skimmed the bouquet. She indeed loved gardening, but never dived deeper into its language unlike his little brother.

She was used to him touching her head. However, this time, she felt his nervousness in each tap. Ah, she let it slide; perhaps it was the chilly air of London in mid October that made him behave peculiarly.

“Thanks,” she twinkled at him.

Little did she know that his ears were reddened by her smile.

“S-shall we?” He broke a brief silence between them.

“Sure!”

They walked together towards the only four-by-four in the car park. The forecast was right; in a few seconds, the sky dropped its waterfall, making them rush their way to his car. Yes, Sebastian did bring an umbrella on his way to the theatre, but he left it in the backseat. Hence, the two cats were soaked cold by the time they were in the car.

“Haa-ah!” They immediately sat before tossing the flowers onto the backseat in unison.

She stared at him, “sooo… you said I never bring my own umbrella, huh?”

“Ahh, I forgot about it, I’m sorry,” he nonchalantly replied while starting the engine.

She rolled her eyes then shifted her focus to the heavy rain outside.

There, there, silence again. And somehow the atmosphere became slightly awkward.

Hands on the wheel, he sighed quietly. His tense pulse could fill the entire box. His lips trembled either by the cold, or his trepidation, or a fusion of both. He glanced at her who was still musing on the rain. His eyes closed for a while as if he asked for strength to the universe. Confessing should be a piece of cake for a flirt like Sebastian. But why did it take him so long?

He then pursed his lips, “can I have a mo-”

“Can we drop-”

“You first,” they exchanged a perplexing gaze.

“No, you,” she let him speak first.

“Maybe it’s too late for me.” There was an underlying exasperation in his voice. And it was enough to make Marjorie wrinkling her brows.

“Huh?”

“You. I- I’m now actually mad at myself for crossing the line.”

“Bash?” she mumbled.

“Marje, don’t look at me,” that prosthetic forefinger pointed at the windscreen.

Instead, she slightly bowed her head while peeking at him.

“When you curtsied on the stage earlier, I pondered: woah, soon after this you’re going to completely dedicate yourself to theatre and film. You’re going to meet a lot of amazing people. Who knows some of them may be with you someday,”

She raised her head, thunderstruck by his sudden rambling.

“I know! I know it sounds like I was discouraging you. B-but I didn’t mean to! I swear I’m not,” he let out a heavy sigh, “not… I’m not. I can’t.”

His mind was in shambles. He couldn’t think coherently, even the way he talked seemed like a virgin in romance. Oh, at this point, he only wished he could have her level of composure!

“I can’t, Marje. I tried to suppress everything with all those dates, but it’s you. You. And you. I- I just… I just can’t bottle this shit up anymore,” he continued.

Again, she was stunned and sneered silently: I also dated people to repress my feelings for you, silly.

His throat was already parched but he had to pour out the final remark. He took a deep breath, at least to ease his mind first.

“As I said before, I think I’ve crossed the line. No, I clearly crossed it, yet I can’t withhold it since the twelfth year,”

So, a year older than me.

“I simply don’t want to ruin our friendship. ‘Cause… ‘cause we share the same neighbourhood, friends, band… but, look! I screwed it up now.”

I also screwed it up, don’t worry.

He began to snivel, “it’s worse than liking you.”

There was a long mute between them.

“I love you, Marje,” that pair of teary jade looked at her tenderly.

A sappy smile grew from her face. Her cold hands cupped his hopeless face; and a kiss landed on his lips. It was deep yet innocent, probably enough to warm them up. And it was their first kiss as lovers.

“Thank you for pouring out my feelings, Bash.”

Sebastian sighed in relief as he realised Marjorie reciprocated his love. He then returned her kiss with another kiss on her forehead.

“You said we need to drop?” He patted her head. It wasn’t as tense as before. Each tap was comforting, as it should be.

“Ah, I mean let’s drop in somewhere! I’ve been eating water since afternoon.”

“Alright, hamburger?”

“And fries.”

Then they crashed through the rain to the referred place.

#yume #fanfic #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #sebastian moran #sebastian moran x oc

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unbridledbrainrots · 1 year

Text

A day in their class...

Rating: PG-15 Length: ~600 words Genre: Slice of (school) life, modern!AU? probably Pairing: Sebastian Moran (from Moriarty The Patriot) x OC (named Marjorie Reiss) though I prefer this one is Marjorie-centric story featuring Sebastian at the end lol Notes: Highkey dry humour or absurd... huhh you name it, may contain inaccuracies, quick proofread so sorry for some errors! Oh, they’re still friends in this timeline

Attending math class after lunch break was one of several phases that Marjorie wouldn’t recommend to everyone. Especially when the nippy breeze struck her face like it was trying to hypnotise her into its abyss of unconsciousness. In addition, sitting further back in the class worsened the situation. To conclude, it was a perfect orchestra for her lullaby.

And that’s… that’s what currently happened.

Her right arm tried its best to bear her head that had been nodding for umpteen times. Her mind was on a brink of combustion whether to instruct her eyes kept wide open and her ears pricked up for the teacher’s explanation, or her entire system shut down for a nice power nap. Her glasses were taken off from her face eversince she was seduced by the zephyr. Her lips had been curled inward, merely avoiding any drool leaked from her mouth. Normally, she would slam the table by reflex every time a drop of saliva fell down and then miraculously regained her consciousness.

Ahh, too bad it was math class! Marjorie could sneak some snacks to keep her alert, but Mr. Gregson had eagle eyes. He rarely allowed his students to eat during his class unless it was an emergency. Whenever he caught his students dozing off, he only asked them to wash their faces in the loo. Yet he calculated the time they spent in his head! That’s why no one dared to stop by the cafeteria or drag their feet back to the class. His class was indeed one of the strictests here. Never did she survive his class without accidentally sleeping. To the point that she thought he had tagged her as an easy target to answer the question on the chalkboard just by how often she got called out.

She was one step closer to REM…

“Miss Reiss,” that hoarse voice awakened her, but her souls were still scattered around. In a full bafflement, she looked at Mr. Gregson who had been standing next to her. Silence, it was all blank stare. Everyone in the class knew she hadn’t woken up completely.

That stern teacher handed over a stick of white chalk to her and chillingly half-whispered, “it’s time for you to say goodbye to your world.”

She slightly nodded, yet still puzzled.

“Leave everything behind- no, you can bring your notes, and do number 2 there,” his hand aimed at the board that had already been divided into three sections. One was already filled by him as an example.

“N-now?”

“Yes, Miss Reiss.”

“But I haven’t done anything good in this world.”

“You’ve finished that number and I’ve checked it.”

“The grim reaper will grant you leniency if you finish it correctly,” he continued.

The living corpse ascended from her chair then dawdled her way to the blackboard.

“Number 3,” Mr. Gregson passed another chalk to Sebastian, in which it also snapped him back to reality.

Shrk… shrk… the dusty white chalk slowly rubbed the slate. Marjorie kept shifting her glance between her notes and the board. But she barely understood her notes. It was too cryptic for someone who was half-asleep. Yet she was too indulged in writing the answer until her right hand crashed into someone’s left arm, making that person accidentally streaked a small part of his answer.

On an impulse, she stared at that person next to her. Unfortunately, her glasses were left on her table, so she could only see the outline of the person. Tousled, black… is this Sebby-chan? She pondered while squinting.

Perhaps she snorted chalk dust too much as she abruptly handed her notes to him.

“Exchange.”

Instead of telling her to open her eyes, Sebastian gave her his notes without any hesitation. Hadn’t he already woken up? Or had he inhaled the dust as well?

As though they shared one last braincell, Marjorie and Sebastian switched their spots. She did his, and he did hers. They continued solving the questions respectively, although he struggled deciphering her disastrous writing.

#yume #fanfic #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #sebastian moran #sebastian moran x oc

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