Yes, This Is Perfect!!!

Yes, this is perfect!!!

Hello! Could I pretty please have a Moriarty the Patriot story with Sebastian? Anything sweet and fluffy will do! 🥰🥰

*My pronouns are she/her, by the way. 😀

WRINKLED SHIRTS AND SUNLIGHT KISSES

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Requester: the-fangirl-diaries

Fandom: Moriarty the Patriot/Yuukoku no Moriarty

Pairing: Sebastian Moran x Gender Neutral!Short!Reader

Request: Hello! Could I pretty please have a Moriarty the Patriot story with Sebastian? Anything sweet and fluffy will do! 🥰🥰

Hello lovely! I’m so sorry this took so long! I tried to keep this gender neutral just so everyone is included :) I hope that’s alright!

This oneshot also takes place during chapter 32 of the Moriarty the Patriot manga or the second OVA of the anime.

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“Is that my shirt?”

You jumped and turned from the mirror where you were buttoning up what was indeed Moran’s shirt. He leaned in the doorway to the bathroom, one hand on his hip as he watched with a fond smile. His hair was rumpled, and his eyes were dark and tired from nightmares. But he looked happy to see you nonetheless.

Returning the smile, you finished buttoning the shirt up and approached him. The shirt was much too large for your short stature and hung to mid-thigh. He slung his arms low on your waist and pulled you close. You reached up and wrapped your hands around the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his unruly black hair, pulled him down, and your lips met his.

He tasted like whiskey and sunlight. Like cigarettes and the soft wispy clouds that hung high in the sky. You loved these types of kisses, the sunlight and cloud kisses that painted your skin in hues of blues and reds to make a lilac sky. You pulled away as he nipped your bottom lip and grinned at his pout.

“We have things to be doing. You can kiss me more later.” He brightened but reluctantly pulled away.

“I’m holding you to that.” He said, leaning his forehead against yours briefly before kissing your nose and then going to get changed.

The Moriarty estate was alive with chatter as you bustled around the kitchen. The Moriarty’s were getting ready for a tea party, and you were in charge of the food as Louis was frantically helping get everything else prepared. Moran’s shirt was tucked into your trousers, and the shirt sleeves were rolled up to your elbows as you adjusted your apron.

Tarts, cakes, other pastries, scones, and every manner of desserts and finger sandwiches littered every inch of counter space in the kitchen as you flitted about like a bee looking for pollen.

You were placing the finishing touches on a strawberry shortcake when strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back into a firm chest. You dropped the piping bag in surprise and turned to see Moran. He grinned and dropped a kiss to your cheek.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be helping Fred with the flowers.” You asked, and he shrugged,

“I wanted to see my favorite busy bee.” He said before kissing you again. You had to wonder if he had a fixation on your mouth with how much he kissed you, but you weren’t necessarily complaining.

“Keep the PDA to your living quarters, please. We’ll be having guests soon, and you both need to get ready.” Then came an unfamiliar voice, and you jumped. Moran scowled as Louis came in and inspected the room. He nodded to you approvingly at the display of pastries, desserts, and sandwiches but still had a scowl on his face.

“Whatever, sourpuss,” Moran grumbled but let go nonetheless and headed off to his bedroom so he could wrangle his hair into submission and change.

You took up the piping bag again but stopped when Louis approached you, tying an apron of his own around his waist, so he didn’t get any flour or frosting on his nice suit.

“Allow me. The other preparations are done. We’re just waiting on Moran. Please go make sure he stays on track.” He said and adjusted his glasses. You handed him the piping bag and untied your apron, hanging it on the rack beside the door.

Moran was still grumbling as you knocked and entered his room. Dressed in a nice suit, he was in the bathroom, standing before the mirror and trying to comb his hair. It was going terribly, to say the least. He had a stubborn cowlick on the back of his head that refused to stay down. You crept up behind him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, reaching for his comb.

“Let me help.” You said, and he relented, handing you the comb and sitting on the bench beside the sink. You stood in front of him and tilted his head slightly so you could get to the back of his head.

The cowlick and any other flyaway strands were quickly tamed and combed down, and soon, his hair was slicked back neatly and combed to the side in front. He looked handsome, but, if you had to admit it, you preferred him with his unruly hair. This was too… proper. Not brash and wild like Moran was.

As soon as you set the comb down, Moran was pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Thanks. Love you.” He whispered, sending a shiver down your spine but you smiled at him and cupped his face, kissing his forehead gently.

“Love you too.”