#duncan one shots

[this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms]

Alliance || Total Drama ||

After finding out Duncan cheated on you with Gwen, Alejandro offers you an alliance as revenge against Duncan. 

Pairing: Duncan x Reader x Alejandro 

Warnings: Cheating (not reader), fem implied reader 

Words: As I’m finally coming out of my writer’s block, I present this! Maybe a little self-indulgent because I like Alejandro and Duncan. Oops—Might make a second part if people like it though.

| Not my GIFs |

Your cheering for Cody ceased when Tyler blurted out the secret he’s been holding back. It took a moment to register in your head, not wanting to believe it. Duncan didn’t actually kiss Gwen, right? Your boyfriend and best friend wouldn’t have done that to you. It had to have been a strategy the other team came up with to throw you off. Pitting you against each other so you’d be distracted during the challenges. 

“Wait, what?” you ask, the distraction immediately working. 

“He said that Duncan kissed G—,” Alejandro repeated. 

You were quick to cut him off before turning to face Gwen. “I heard what he said! Gwen? Is that true?” 

She looked at you with guilt written all over her face that only confirmed it. She took a step back, as if expecting you to fight her. And for a moment you thought about it, anger quick to take over. Except heartbreak was quicker to hit when you fully accepted the situation. Your boyfriend and best friend kissed behind your back. 

You turned to look at Duncan who gave you a just as equally guilty look. You had hoped that by looking at him he’d shut down Tyler’s rumor. But when he looked away, you knew it was all true. Your heart cracked in your chest, and everyone was silent, waiting to see what you’d do. Both Duncan and Gwen watched you closely and you could see the fear on their faces. You never got mad or raised your voice, you were one of the few reasonable contestants on this show. It’s what made you so likable and kind of scary with everyone wondering if you’d ever snap. Today might just be the day. 

You turned to look at Cody who hadn’t moved yet, he was watching to see what happens next. No doubt scared that you might do something to Gwen. You kind of felt bad for him, he was sort of betrayed too. It can’t be fun knowing the girl you’ve been pining over kissed someone else. 

“Cody, start flying if you want to win this. Otherwise, if we lose, we’ll be voting Gwen off tonight,” you tell him. 

Your voice is eerily calm but it’s enough to set Cody flapping his poorly made wings. Your words made him determined to win, more so with his team agreeing with you. The Amazons won the challenge in the end which meant Gwen was safe for now. It also meant that Duncan had a chance to be voted off and although you were heartbroken, you didn’t want to see him go yet. 

Once your team is back in first class, you're left alone with your thoughts. And everyone wants to know what you’ll do to Gwen. Courtney is immediately giving you ideas, completely on your side. She had a crush on Duncan, but when he admitted he felt the same for you, she became your number one supporter. Which meant she was the embodiment of your anger now. 

“Hey, can we talk?” Gwen asks, approaching you with a guilty look on her face. 

“She has nothing to say to you!” Courtney exclaimed, standing in front of you. 

Gwen took a step back but looked over at you, nonetheless, silently pleading with you. Courtney looked at you too, arms crossed over her chest with a scowl on her face. You knew you should talk to her about this, but you didn’t want to. Not right now. 

“You heard her, I don’t have anything to say,” you repeat. 

She sighs heavily and walks away with a defeated look on her face. As much as she liked the kiss with Duncan, nothing could get rid of the guilt she felt. She hadn’t meant to betray you like that, it just sort of happened. At least, that’s how she likes to remember it. 

“We can so vote her off in the next challenge,” Courtney says once she’s gone. 

You shake your head, a defeated and broken look on your face. “It won’t change anything.” 

“No, but it’ll make you feel better. And it gives me an excuse to boot her out,” Courtney offers, trying to cheer you up. 

She liked you, which is rare for her, especially given the circumstances. This wasn’t exactly the place to make friends, but she became friends with you. You were the only person she’d deemed worthy enough to make it to the final two. Which is why she was angry for you. And maybe something else that she’d never admit. 

You offer a smile, strained but good enough to seem cheery. “I’d still rather play fair. If we happen to lose a challenge then whatever happens, happens.” 

That was enough for her, deciding to make your team purposely lose. People would suspect it from you but not from her. She could even get Sierra and Heather in on it. 

You wanted to be alone after, sneaking away from first class. You found a corner hidden away from everyone and sank down. Being alone meant you finally felt everything that just happened. Your boyfriend really kissed your best friend. You felt your heart crack inside your chest and the dam finally burst. 

You sobbed into your hands, using them to muffle whatever noises left you. It almost worked, had a certain someone not been snooping around. Alejandro found you in your corner crying your heart out. It’s exactly as he had hoped for. To get you alone and charm his way into your trust. Except standing in front of you now, he wasn’t so sure of his plan. 

“May I offer some comfort?” he asks, sitting beside you. 

You stop crying immediately and wipe your tear stained cheeks. You clear your throat and look away. “No, I’m fine. Completely fine.” 

“Of course, I didn’t mean to insinuate you weren’t,” he says, giving you a charming and gentle smile. 

You furrow your brows and stare at him, seeing straight through him. You didn’t trust Alejandro, from the beginning of this season. You saw what he did to Bridgette and LeShawna. You weren’t going to let him get to you the same way. 

“What do you want?” you ask. 

“My, I didn’t expect such a beautiful lady to be so harsh,” he places a hand over his heart and feigns being hurt. 

It makes you roll your eyes and cross your arms. “Listen, you may have everyone fooled but not me. And I’m not in the mood right now.” 

“I know,” he smiles again, this time showing his true intentions behind it. You were too smart for your own good and there was no point pretending. “But I figured now was as good a time as any.” 

“For?” 

“I propose an alliance between the two of us.” 

“You want an alliance with me? Why?” your eyes narrow and you’re even more weary of him. 

He was quiet for a moment, unsure of how to answer. What excuse could he say without giving away how he really felt? He didn’t want to admit that he actually felt bad and angered. No one should have ever broken your heart, much less someone like Duncan. But saying that out loud would mean having to admit how he felt. He wouldn’t. In a competition like this, feelings were a weakness. 

“To get back at Duncan, of course,” he answers. “If he sees us working together, it’ll irk him. Seeing you move on will definitely be a punch to the gut.” 

“Oh right, it’ll definitely be a punch to the gut when he’s making out with Gwen,” your voice cracks at the end, vision blurring. 

Alejandro’s heart wrenches at your sadness and anger bubbles in his chest. Duncan didn’t deserve you, not for a second. He abandoned you at the beginning of the competition and you just accepted him like it was nothing when he came back. He hated it and he hated you a little bit for it. Except now was his chance to get you to see him and forget about Duncan. 

He wraps an arm around your shoulders without thinking about it. Your pulled closer to him, facing him only inches away. “No offense, but you’re not exactly my type.” 

He laughs and gives you an ever so charming smile. “Don’t worry, that’s not my intention,” he lies. 

“And what are your intentions?” 

“It’s like I said, an alliance with you. Not only will it be revenge on Duncan but I’ll take you to the final two with me.” 

“Oh really? Why would you take me to the final two? I would’ve imagined you’d want someone like Heather.” 

“Heather? While she is lovely, she’s not my type. And I happen to like someone else,” he says, looking at you earnestly. 

Your heart skips a beat and you blame it on your bundled feelings. You push him away, making space between the two of you. Honestly, his deal sounded nice even if he ended up double crossing you. At least you could distract yourself from what Duncan and Gwen did. 

“Okay, on one condition. If you stab me in the back at any point, you vote yourself off.” 

He doesn’t even hesitate as he answers, all that matters is that he’s got you on his side. “Deal.” 

[dolicekiss]

Bittersweet Belladona

PAIRING: Dark!Will Graham x Yandere!Reader x Dark!Hanninal Lecter

CONTENT WARNING: SMUT (18+ only, mdni) very dark Will Graham. age gap (reader is twenty two) mention of mental instability, unhinged behavior by all parties, dubcon, stalking, slight blood, choking, hair pulling, manhandling (reader gets her shit clapped) degradation and praise, mention of cannibalism, scratching, slight fluff at the end.

SYNOPSIS: Following along the bloody trail left behind renowned Psychiatrist Dr. Lecter and his kin, Will Graham, your sick obsession had made you somewhat better than the FBI at tracking down the two. In the shadows, you lingered and stalked them both like a new born shadow, oblivious to the fact that you were also captured in their sight. Your twisted infatuation with the two had you cornered soon enough, trapped in an empty museum with them.

You were lured in.

You should've known.

Just why would they commit a crime in the open museum if not to lure you in and trap you?

The two men circled you around like you were their prey, like the man they had killed and formed into a firefly with its wings spread out, hanging in the air. Wings that were made out of the man's skin — red flesh exposed. The sight was spectacular and you wanted nothing more than to click photos of it, capture it in the deepest darkest parts of your mind and savor it forever.

You stared at it in pure awe, not registering the fact that you were trapped.

“Beautiful, isn't it?”

It was Will’s deep voice.

Strained and dry, it made you feel something dark inside your chest. You flinched at his voice, retreating a step back but all you felt against your back was Hannibal’s hard chest, as you crashed into him. His tall figure towered over you and you moved forward, in an attempt to get away from him.

“Beautiful like her.” Hannibal spoke, voice cutting the silence like butter. “But too bad she lacks manners, don't you think?”

All you wanted to do was stalk them, learn more about how their minds worked and get to know them. You had never found their acts of violence disgusting, no. It was simply human, their flaws and the gruesome darkness concealed behind their beautiful faces. It was all too fascinating for you but you knew all too well what the two men were capable of.

The proof was levitating right up in the air.

“Following us around, stalking us. Even going as far as to hacking our phones to eavesdrop on our conversations, how fucking impolite and ill mannered.” It was Will, as he snapped at you. Your face set ablaze underneath his searing gaze, feeling terrified as he stared at you.

A look of disgust in his eyes.

“She might as well be the next Freddie Lounds.” You wanted to hide away from the way Will was glaring at you. Glasses long gone, curly strands slicked back as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Your lips trembled. “I—”

Your throat was parched, running dry in an instant as you attempted to speak and come up with some sort of excuse to your bad behavior. You felt like a child trapped between two adults, anticipating a very bad scolding, maybe even a beating too.

“You're scared, hm?” Hannibal reached for your face, squeezing it between his hand. Your lips forming a forced pout. You were trembling in his hold, as resilient as you were.

You'd decided to follow them, in a way, finding solace in them. The cannibalistic murderers of Baltimore, murder husbands, the FBI profiler who eloped with his cannibalistic psychiatrist. Everytime you saw them on the news, you felt a connection form between you and them and tug you towards them. It was profound, what you felt for them and how the people to whom you were an unknown person comforted you.

Without their own acknowledgement.

You didn't want to die.

As much as you had nothing to live for, other than the delusions that you were meant to join the two— you were an empty shell. An unstable mind wandering the world with nowhere to go. You attempted to make a run for it as soon as you felt Hannibal’s grip loosen. Bolting for the large door, your hand nearly grasped onto the golden knob and pulled at the door but Will was quick to run after you, grabbing your hand and pushing you up against the wall next to the door.

His palm laid straight on your cheek, forcing the side of your head along the wall. Holding you firmly in place all while you struggled and became a sobbing, sputtering mess. Pain blossomed in the side of your head, throbbing and roaring through your skull. Like it could grow two large heads more. The rough manhandling caused tears to pool in your waterline, threatening to drop.

You felt horrible, didn't know what was so wrong about wanting to get to know them on a deeper level as they provided you with comfort. Feeling a bit dumbfounded and stupid.

“Please—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Will nearly growled in your ear, a shiver of terror dancing up your spine.

You watched, in your blurred peripheral vision, a figure moving in next to you. It was obviously Hannibal and you stared at him with a plea clear in your eyes.

“She looks so afraid.” He commented, moving his gaze from your face to Will’s. The man still locking you in place. “She's pretty too.”

“I hate to agree.” Will sternly said, with a hint of frustration in his voice.

You struggled and squirmed, all futile and not enough to help you get your freedom. Will’s hand tangled in your hair, fingers grabbing a bunch of your hair and fisting them. He dragged you from the door and tossed you right across the vast space on the floor, watching as your body collided with the hard marble.

You didn't waste a single second in scurrying away from them both. Now you were the prey and they were the predator, stalking upto you like you were their food. Which, you were pretty sure you were going to become. You didn't mind but you couldn't die with a heart aching to be understood, to be seen.

“She deserves a punishment, no?” Hannibal said to will, voice laced with mischief.

You shook your head. “Sorry—so sorry.”

Your tears and apologies were falling upon deaf ears. Will reveled in the feeling of seeing you this helpless, at this mercy and he knew he could crush you beneath his shoe like a dying little bird. Hannibal was more interested in Will and your dynamic, how you craved to be in his presence yet were terrified of him.

He found it endearing, even.

“Oh no, apologies won't cut it, pretty girl.” He said, in a hoarse voice. “I'm gonna make sure you never ever do something so silly like this ever again.”

Fear had consumed your whole being. Fingers trembling and breath hitching. Heart beat pattering like wild raindrops against a glass window. You could feel it thumping in your ears, as nausea took over you. The urge to throw up all over the floor fought to dominate you but you didn't allow it.

“What were you thinking?” Hannibal asked, squatting down next to where you were on the floor, back pressed into an old viking artifact. “Following dangerous men like us around. Just what did you believe you would achieve from it, if not your demise?”

You gulped, staring between the two men.

Glancing at Will and cowering under Hannibal’s gaze.

You didn't dare speak a word. The letters of the word ‘comfort’ burning the tip of your tongue but you didn't say it. The fear that wafted off you was almost arousing for Hannibal Lecter. His strong ability to smell emotions and feelings helping him smell your fear and anxiety.

“Answer him.” Will ordered, reaching forward and squatting down next to Hannibal in front of you. His hand extended out and collected the hair straight from your roots, tugging onto them. It hurt, the burning sensation spreading along your scalp as your neck was craned up.

You stared at him, a lone tear sliding down.

“J-Just wanted to see, w-wanted to see how you both do it.” Broken words uttered by your broken self.

Hanninal and Will looked at each other, seemingly communicating through their minds as their eyes spoke. Hannibal nodded and Will’s attention shifted back to you, this time staring at you with a different type of void behind those blue eyes of his. His grip tightened and you whimpered, fueling your tears.

Then he leaned down and in a rough kiss, captured your lips. Teeth clashing against your skin, tugging and biting on it. Your little fists tried to push him away from you, banging on the expanse of his chest. He didn't budge at all. Will had newfound determination to break you, to break you in order to put your pieces back together.

In a way he'd liked.

Hannibal knew as manipulative as he was, Will Graham was a cunning boy.

You felt him sink his teeth into your lower lip, piercing the skin enough to evoke blood. A trail dripping down, accumulating at the round of your chin. Vision blurry and eyes squeezed tightly, you cried and cried while struggling. It only worsened your situation as you felt someone behind you— taking a hold of your small fists and restraining them behind your back.

Hannibal held you in place tightly, giving full access to Will to have his way with you.

Your lungs expanded, in desperate attempts to suck in air but all you felt was Will’s tongue slipping past the entrance of your mouth. Colliding with yours, like snake, wrapping around it and in a way, the man was fucking your mouth.

Plunging his tongue in an out of your mouth.

Saliva, blood, tears. All of these liquids proved your demise, though not forever. You knew after Will or both the men are done with you, you'd be different. You'd be dead and you'll be reborn.

“Will, do you intend to end her life with a kiss?” Hannibal called out and the man finally, finally retrieved his tongue and broke apart from you.

Terrified to open your eyes, you let them stay shut. You could feel the hot breath of Will mingling with your own, chest moving vertically up and down. Lungs dragging in as much oxygen as the organs could, unaware of when they'll be allowed to breathe ever again.

“Open your eyes.” Hannibal’s hands caressed your wrists as he whispered in your ear.

You didn't listen and that was a grave mistake. That somehow managed to piss Will off more than you invading their privacy. Your disobedience towards Hannibal and as he walloped his hand across your cheek, a ringing sound entered your ears.

It was loud, everything becoming a blur to you.

Just how hard had he hit you?

Your eyes were opened and you blinked profusely, now finally capturing the man in front of you. You noticed the swell of his lips, as well as the blood that was smeared all over it. His slicked back hair now messed up in a few strands dancing over his forehead. You didn't stop your cries this much, soft little sobs echoing in the spacious museum.

“Will,” Hannibal warned. “She's fragile, you shouldn't be this aggressive.”

“She's strong and she knows it. A fragile little girl wouldn't stalk two men all the way from the US to Italy, would she now, princess?” You shook your head.

The obedience you had shown by responding immediately was satisfying for both of them. The slap had worked, and Hannibal took a hold of your chin, moving your face towards him. His scrutinizing gaze hovered over your busted lip. “It's bleeding, poor you. Will is really cruel, isn't he?”

The sheer rudeness and strictness Will Graham expressed and showcased was in complete contrast to Hannibal’s sweet, gentle demeanor. Its like one was meant to leave bruises while the other bandaged those same wounds.

“Please.” You pleaded, completely unaware of what you were actually pleading for. You knew that even if they were to let you go, you would still continue to stalk the men. You couldn't survive separation and it wasn't like you wanted to live with the two or be roommates, no.

You were more than okay with striving in the shadows, only admiring them from afar.

How did they catch you?

Were you that obvious? That obsessed and infatuated that you hadn't realized these men could outsmart you?

Will stared at you, the scared look on your face stirring something primal within his chest. You looked so beautiful, so broken and he saw himself in you. He saw who he was before meeting Hannibal and this — what he was about to do to you — could be your breakthrough.

They could be your pillars.

Hannibal was in absolute awe of the beauty you possessed and were. Just the raw vulnerability you exposed and how dedicated you were to stalking them, it was all endearing to him. To him it felt like you harbored romantic feelings for him, for them both. Like a puppy following its owners.

“Tie her up.” Will said to Hannibal and he nodded — immediately getting to work. Despite the amount of tears you shed, the struggling and the pleadings, it didn't bother them one bit. Hannibal had found a rope, magically and it made you realize all the more of how deep you had fallen into the well.

They came prepared.

Oh they had thought everything out.

They were looking forward to this.

“No, n-no, please. Listen to me.”

Didn't matter. You were nothing but a lifeless little doll, a plaything to keep them entertained. Hannibal tied you up, hands behind your back. Each knot tightened to the point of purple bruising, his hands skilfully moving across your body. It wasn't just your hands he tied, he'd restrained your arms too and the pain begun in your shoulders.

Both of them looked at you, sitting on the floor, tied up. Your dress had riled up to your thighs in the endeavor and it exposed your soft flesh, which seemed to be an invitation for the two men. Hannibal could only think how you'd taste, drenched in honey and garlic, sizzled on a barbeque. The flesh roasted and sprinkled with diced coriander.

Meanwhile Will could feel his cock becoming hard at how fucking hopeless you seemed. Just sitting on the floor, soft little sniffles falling from your lips. Even a few hiccups here and there too. A red handprint on your cheek a clear indication of your disobedience. It was a sight he wouldn't mind if he were to witness it for the rest of his life with Hannibal.

Will leaned down to you, sitting next to you as his hand reached for the exposed flesh of your thighs. When his soothing fingertips touched your skin, you flinched. That act of yours and how unwilling you still were made him tighten his grip on your thighs, nails leaving crescent moons all over the skin.

“You could've chosen a different path. A different life, different interests than the ones you have right now.” There was almost a heavy sadness to his words. Like he missed the person who he was, somewhere deep inside his mind. “Yet you got yourself into such a mess. Trapped with two men. Do you have any idea what we'll do to you, pretty girl?”

You shook your head.

“If you knew coming here would have you end up like this, would you still go through with it?” He stared at you, in anticipation, searching for the answer in your blurry gaze but he didn't need to.

As you nodded your head. Proving the unstable state of your mind. Despite knowing things would end this way, you'd come to this place over and over again. They had noticed you, they'd seen you, felt you. How could it get any better? Yes, you were hurt but did it really matter? It was worth seeing the two perform their art in all its glory.

Hannibal stared at Will and the man scoffed — shaking his head. “You're such a braindead little thing, aren't you?”

You lifted your eyes up from the floor you were on, confused. The confusion gave you the look of a lost puppy, who had no idea just what was even happening to it. Puzzled and all over the place, terrified and lost.

“She's a peculiar one.” Hannibal commented, one hand slipped inside his pocket. “Should we take her?”

“We'll decide that when she's proven to be worthy of it.” His hand inched closer and closer, riding further up your thigh and between them. Your breath hitched, body shivering as you felt his fingers brush against your clothed cunt.

You were already soaked, as confused as you were about it. They had humiliated you, disrespected you, hurt you yet your panties were saturated. Upon feeling the slick coating your inner thighs, Will let out a dark chuckle and showed his fingers to Hannibal.

The slick glistening against the bright lights.

“She's not some innocent little girl. Her cunt is drenched, Hannibal. All because of how we treated her, like some whore.”

You squeezed your thighs together, not wanting Will to pry more but he did. Both hands at both knees, he parted your thighs open fully and exposed you to the lascivious gaze of himself and Hannibal. The wet spot on your beige panties the perfect innuendo that you were aroused, like some fucking animal and it grossed you out.

Why were you feeling this way?

Will’s hand lowered to your cunt, his thumb flat against your covered clit. He moved it in slow, circular motions, watching you in exciting anticipation. Your body twitched, hips immediately beginning to writhe and he scoffed. Your reactions were fucking adorable, both the men in complete awe.

You still wanted out — as good as this felt.

You struggled, squirming your hips and trying to stray further from him but Will grabbed your leg, putting his own over it to refrain you from moving. You whimpered at his heavy weight on your leg, as he continued his ministrations on your cunt. He then finally peeled the panties off you, sliding them down yout ankles and tossing them to the aside.

“Fuck, such a pretty pussy.” He whispered, Hannibal also joining him on the floor.

Both of them stared at your cunt like it was a meal they both had craved for a very, very long time. A fresh set of tears fell as Will parted your pussy open with his thumbs, pink flesh coated with creamy arousal.

Hannibal shifted behind you, pulling you between his own legs. Both his hands caressed your sides, slowly riding upto your breasts. Fingers kneading into the plush of your tits and dragging your dress down, watching the fat mounds bounce out. His own cock hardened at the sight.

Hannibal loved the female body, how beautiful and different it was than a man's. Innocence seeped into it, like a fresh drop from the sun and a tear of the moon.

You looked up at him and shook your head, squirming. “Stop —no. Not right, not right.”

At your resistance, Will delivered a sharp smack across the stripe of your cunt. Watching as the pink deepened. He slid a finger inside you and you whimpered, gaze fixated on Hannibal. The men simultaneously toyed with your body, having their way with it and you could only sit there helplessly and sob.

“She's tight, even around my finger. I wonder how she'll take both of our cocks.” Will’s comment made Hannibal’s concealed cock throb. A low rumble escaping his chest, vibrating against your back. “Don't tempt me, Will.” Hannibal warned, his fingers pinching and tugging at your hardened peaks.

Will soon inserted another finger, staring up at you. He found you disrespectful and downright rude. Somewhere you reminded him of a certain redhead, with how you lurked everywhere in the shadows wherever they were. But he knew you were nothing like Freddie Lounds. You did not possess the same greed she did, the same lust for fame and content.

Instead he saw darkness. The type of darkness that matched his own — a reflection of his own self. He plunged his fingers in and out of you, curving them and gaining access to that sensitive spot. As he hit it, your gummy walls tightened around his digits, greedy cunt sucking them in.

Meanwhile Hannibal forced you to look at him, one hand still toying with your perky tits. He stared down at you, finding you endearing. How you cried, every movement of your little body. The tears pooling in your waterline, the way your lips shivered and produced small sobs, how the fear flashed in your gaze once in awhile. You were so broken and so damaged, he wanted to fix you right up.

By breaking you apart.

“You should've expected this to happen. Stalking dangerous men like us, while being so frail and fragile yourself. Just what did you expect to happen, hm?” His grip tightened on your wrist, as he stared at you.

You had no words. There was nothing on your mind, other than the realization that you were trapped and had nowhere to go. There was no one coming to your salvation and the thought terrified you more than anything. The complexities of your own emotions and thoughts warring together only left you further braindead.

Hannibal captured your lips. At first the kiss was sweet, gentle even but soon you realized it was only to swallow your little sounds. Every time Will bruised your sensitive spot, Hannibal swallowed a gulp of your whimper. These two were like wolves, consuming and sucking the blood out of their prey.

He continued kissing you, prying your mouth open and mingling his tongue with yours. The fact that you still had Will’s saliva in your mouth, also dribbling down your chin and Hannibal kissed the same mouth. It was all too taboo to not turn you on. Your hips shuffling a little only for Will to press his own leg harder down on yours.

Will stared at you both, watching with a burning gaze as Hannibal practically sucked the soul out of you. He scoffed a little, remembering Hannibal’s words from earlier at how he almost ended you with a kiss. The man was doing the same now, just with a much gentle tone.

He didn't even allow you to inhale or breathe, lips locked against yours in a tight firm kiss. You struggled, attempting to move here and there but it didn't work at all. He continued devouring you like you were his last meal. He kissed differently than Will. He kissed with the intention to eat you, with the intention to savor you for the rest of his life.

It was too passionate for you to ignore. Tears sliding down your face. “You can't eat her now, Hannibal. Don't end up biting her tongue off.”

Will’s words made Hannibal stall for a moment, registering what the man had said. He was right, Hannibal couldn't actually eat you now and from how sweet you tasted, he wanted to bite your fucking tongue off and decorate it with your white teeth.

He backed out, after relishing in the taste you had to offer. Hannibal almost flinched at how fucked out you appeared, from a mere kiss. Your vision had blurred, your mind hazy and your cheeks red. You stared at him, partially lost and numb and then more tears slid across your face.

“Let's take her over to the table.” Will passed an order and Hannibal complied, picking you up within seconds. Your legs resting on his waist, as he carried you to the table.

It was somewhere in the back, concealed in a dark corner. Hannibal laid you down against it on your stomach, and you kicked. Your little kicks delivering to his leg but it didn't affect him at all. Your act of disobedience was like drops of fuel against a fire and it angered both of them. Hannibal’s fingers circled around your ankles, holding them in place.

Will walked over to the two of you, and his fingers drowned in your locks. Grabbing a fistful of it, he craned your neck up and made you look at him. “You fucking brat.” Will slapped you across the side of your face, watching you with a burning stare.

Incinerating pain grew on your right cheek as you slowly regained your senses back and registered the slap. Blood trickled down your chin, the source being your busted lip. The trail cold and dark. “S-Sorry.”

“Oh you'll be fucking sorry when we're done with you, whore.” Will turned to Hannibal. “You take her cunt, I take her mouth. She'll know just how easy we were being on her.”

“Don't end up damaging her.” Hannibal responded, grip tightening on your ankles. “I have taken a liking to her, she'll be good entertainment.”

“Fine.” Will replied with a groan.

Then you caught his attention, again. How unlucky you were. You watched as he unzippes his pants and your eyes widened in horror, hearing another zip being pulled down right after Will’s. You shook your head but it caused Will’s grip to tighten.

As he pulled out his cock, you heard shuffling behind you as well. Will tapped his fat tip against your cheek, then slowly running it along your sealed lips. “Are you going to open up or do I have to force you?”

You contemplated. You really contemplated and the slap made you more pliant, as you parted open your lips. On the other hand, Hannibal had pushed your legs apart, his own cock in his hand. He slowly guided it inside you and when you felt his thick head enter you, a high pitched moan echoed within the walls of the museum.

Will pulled your hair. “Stick your fucking tongue out.”

And you obliged. Ashamed and embarrassed, you stuck your tongue out and Will slapped his fat cock flat against it a few times before driving it inside the wetness of your mouth. Feeling them both enter you at the same time, one inside your cunt and the other dominating your mouth. You cried out in pain.

Hannibal looked down at how your pussy hugged his cock, barely halfway through and a low growl rumbled from his chest upon seeing the ring of blood around his cock.

You were a virgin.

“She's a virgin Will.” Hannibal called out, pushing himself deeper inside you. To a point where no one else has been. “Poor girl probably wanted something sweet, something gentle for her first time.”

Will practically melted at the fact that you were a virgin. Completely untouched. He wondered how could that be possible with the way you appeared and how your body was carved by the gods them selves? But he didn't care. It was perfect. You were perfect.

Made for them.

Crafted for them by the same god they both resented.

Will’s gaze dropped down at you, watching you as your lips squeezed around his cock and sucked him in. “Ever sucked a cock before, princess?”

The term which was usually used for endearment sounded so ironic when it came from Will. Like he was mocking you, using it to taunt you. He didn't mean it when he called you that. He was only using it to make you feel horrible, calling you a princess while treating you worse than a peasant.

You shook your head. You were foreign to the idea of such explicit activities before this very night but now, you were stuffed two cocks. One in your mouth and one in your cunt.

You felt Hannibal’s cock grow thicker inside you at the information, its veins throbbing against your gummy walls. A muffled cry of despair left you as Will continued sliding his cock further into your mouth. “If I feel one tooth, I will punch them right out of your mouth. Got it?”

You inhaled through your nose, nodding.

“Good.” Will released your hair as both his hands settled against your face. He held your face, the head of his cock pushing past your palate and uvula as a loud groan mixed in with your muffled whimpers. He snapped his hips, not caring that you were choking all over his cock.

Saliva trailing down your chin, making a mess around your mouth. You moved your shoulders, all the while Hannibal held you tightly against the table by your hips and fucked you like some wild beast. Both men used their full strength, snapping their cock inside you and it left you light headed.

“She's squeezing me in so much, almost as if she likes this.” You heard Hannibal grunt, his cock slamming against your cervix. From how hard his fingernails dug into your flesh, you knew your skin was bloodied by now.

Hannibal’s gentle demeanor was out the fucking window, replaced with the monster he truly was.

As Will’s cock slid along the surface of your tongue, his hips bucked and he fully bottomed out in your mouth. You could feel his head at the back of your throat and gagged all over it, tears splattering out of your eyes. It was all a mess. You couldn't even breathe anymore and let out little screams — which were muffled and only worked as vibrations against Will’s throbbing length, nearing him to his orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck. I bet her little cunt is as tight as her mouth. It's like I'm fucking a pussy.” Will whimpered, slurring out soft little pants.

Hannibal groaned in respond. “Show me her face, Will. Right now.”

Will nodded, pulling out of your mouth only for a few seconds as he flipped you on your back and pushed your head up, holding it for Hannibal to witness the mess he'd created out of you. A mirror with broken shards, showing Hannibal a reflection of himself.

He almost came at the sight of you.

Looking so fucked up. Hair a mess. Lips bruised, bloody and swollen. Tears and saliva running down in rivulets. You were a fucking sight for sore eyes and Hannibal wanted this every single day. He needed to witness this every single day.

And he never needed anything.

“So beautiful. So fucking—” He snapped inside you, his pace becoming rough and animal like thrusts founding their way against your bruised spot. “beautiful but such an impolite little girl.”

He spat as the sound of skin against skin echoed in the room. Bouncing off the walls of the museum, reaching the carved out ancient ceiling. The cupids listening to each and every noise made in sin.

Will dropped your head down, your neck bending slightly as he shoved his cock back inside your mouth. This new position gave him all the power to fuck your mouth thoroughly, watching as the imprint of his cock inside your throat formed against your skin. Bulging and moving along the skin.

It turned him on like nothing else.

He glared at you, eyebrows furrowed in pure pleasure, lips parted to allow heavy pants escape it. Will Graham looked fucking breathtaking when the sweat trickled down his forehead. You were wondering if this was that bad, if them taking you against your will was anything bad.

But it was the pleasure getting to your head.

Of course this was morally wrong and fucked up.

But who had morals in this room?

One was a cannibal, the other was an accomplice and murderer and you were an unhinged stalker.

“Fuck you looking at huh?” He asked you, abruptly slapping your chest. Your back arched and you let out a whimpered cry, almost tempted to use your teeth.

But you were well aware what that act would cost you.

Will gasped out, feeling his orgasm nearing while Hannibal looked at Will. He could only admire the view before him and as he fucked your cunt, his own orgasm came knocking at his door. Both of them imitated each other's pace, fucking you like wild animals during mating season.

They came soon and the intimacy of them cumming together was so intense. Hannibal’s load shot out, coating your gummy walls and filling you up to the brim. Will’s thrusted, and as you subconsciously tightened your mouth around him, the man also released into your mouth.

His moans had evolved into whimpers and gasps, breathing ragged as he emptied himself inside you. Balls throbbing and hips bucking. It was fucking intense, for both Hannibal and Will. His fingernails dug into the wood for support, fucking your mouth leisurely to ride out his orgasm. Hannibal had left marks on your thighs and hips from how roughly he'd gripped them, as well as blood trails from his nails.

Coated in your own blood, your once untouched and unclaimed skin was now drenched in sin — purity long snatched by the hands of the devil himself. In your case, both Hannibal and Will relresented the Devil. Falling angels they were.

As Will pulled out from your mouth, he caught a glimpse of all his load sitting there in your mouth. It's taste salty and texture thick. Something you'd never ever experienced in your mouth.

“Swallow it.” He ordered and you shut your mouth, swallowing it all. It felt gross and weird against your throat but you didn't complain, only a look of grimace crossed your face.

You still hadn't cum.

Your body twitching and aching. Your cunt screaming for its own release, knots building up in your stomach and thighs convulsing. You were close too but Hannibal stopping made you let out a whimper of frustration.

“Look at her, Hannibal. Twitching and whimpering for a release, huh.” Will scoffed, lips shuddering as he inhaled long chains of oxygen.

Hannibal pried open your hole with his thumbs, watching as his cum oozed out of you and pooled on the table. Your gaping hole sputtered, more cum leaking out and Hannibal licked his lips at the sight. “Although she has not been an obedient girl, I think she deserves her release too for taking us so well. Don't you, Darling?”

You nodded.

You needed this feeling of intense desire and wanton to disappear. This frustration that bit at your stomach, nipped away little pieces of flesh.

Will walked over to Hannibal as the man took you into his arms, sliding his cock back inside you. This time Will sat on top of the table, his half soft cock fully hardening at the evil idea that cooked in his mind. He held your ass, opening it with both his hands and slowly pressing his tip against your rim.

Your eyes widened. “N—No.”

“Still resisting us? Knowing we've claimed you, all of you? How naive.” Hannibal commented, face only a few inches apart from yours. He slid his cock inside your cunt as Will lowered you onto his. The two men were gonna tear you apart, you knew that.

Their girth and length were both something you couldn't handle, not at once at least. But Will didn't care — and Hannibal shared that. Feeling the burning stretch in your ass, you shrieked as Will entered you. A tear slid down your face, disappearing into your parted lips as Hannibal held you for Will.

“It hurts— hurts please.” You cried, like a broken doll and Hannibal pressed a kiss against the corner of your lips. “It'll feel better soon. You shouldn't feel pain. You're only a set of holes for our pleasure, aren't you?”

You didn't answer, too lost in the searing pain in your bottom. Will wasn't even half way through, you could feel it and yet it felt like you were being ripped apart. Hannibal’s cock stayed inside you, not movinf at all. Allowing Will to first adjust himself inside you.

“Answer me.” Hannibal held you with one hand, as he lightly smack you with the other.

You nodded. “Yeah, only a set of holes for your pleasure.”

Hearing you accept it like this, so vocally and out loud. Will lost it and slammed you down onto his cock, bottoming out. Pain bloomed in your ass and you screamed but before it could reach the ears of people somewhere outside the museum, Hannibal captured your lips in a rough kiss.

He licked at your tongue, teeth against teeth while fucking into you slowly. Will sat there as Hannibal moved you up and down on his cock and the burning sensation only grew with each thrust. “Stupid fucking whore. Just what was going through your head, this young and dedicating your life to stalking men twice your fucking age. It's like you wanted this to happen to you, yeah? Two cocks in you at once.”

Will’s filthy words was like alcohol, and blitzed you were. Guilt consumed you and somewhere their manipulation was seeming to work on you in this vulnerable moment. You should've know better. This was bound to happen. Just what were you expecting? That they would invite you into their lives with an open, warm embrace?

You were so fucking stupid.

Hannibal parted from you, his forehead pressed against you as he settled you down against Will’s thighs. You sniffled, feeling his cock all the way inside your ass as Hannibal used your cunt. You felt nothing more than some whore that was here for their pleasure, their sake.

Your stomach flipped and churned, a disclaimer that your release was near. Your thighs shook terribly and when Will pushed upward, you surged forward and leaned against Hannibal’s chest. You tightened around them both, toes curling and eyes squeezing shut.

“Oh she's close. I can feel her. She's gonna snap my fucking dick in half.” Will grunted, as you twitched. Then it came. That strong, bone chilling feeling of pleasure, consuming your whole being. Eyes witnessing white and lips agape, high pitched moans slurring out and tainting the purity of the museum.

You felt the potent need of release take over you ans you gushed out, squirting all over the men. Your body going limp and losing all its strength, falling over to Hannibal. All you saw was darkness, as your eyes stayed closed and your chest moved up and down. Frame suffering from convulsions.

For a moment you thought they'd stop but what a mistake it was.

“She's made quite the mess, Will.” Hannibal commented, his button up soaked in your release.

Will released a hoarse chuckle, his chest rumbling. The man started fucking into your ass, watching as it revived you back but this time you had no resistance left in you. One orgasm had sent you over the edge, overestimated and sensitive. You whined into Hannibal’s chest, tears staining his shirt as Will continued fucking into you.

Hannibal was also in pursuit of Will, his cock carrying its assault on your cunt. Encouraging broken whines out of you. The two were also stimulated enough and after fucking you for awhile, they too came.

Feeling Will’s load in your ass was a weird feeling. It was uncomfortable but what made it even more uncomfortable was Hannibal’s cum leaking out of your cunt, as he fucked it back into you.

You fell against Will’s chest, head resting on his shoulder. Face drained and numb, no energy left in you whatsoever. You were so fucked out and numb — no expression on your face as you stared at Hannibal.

“She's fucked.” Will said, with a laugh as he stared at the worried expression on Hannibal’s face.

He tapped his fingers over your cheek. “Hey, can you hear me?”

You didn't respond. Completely broken and tired. You craved solace in that moment, absurdly from the two men who were the sole cause of all this. How fucked up could this situation get?

“Hey.” His taps on your cheek grew harder but you didn't respond. Will sat up straight, arm wrapped around your waist as he held you against him. “Fuck, I think we damaged her.”

“We?” Hannibal raised a brow.

Will narrowed his eyes at him. “Don't pretend as if you weren't manipulating her into thinking this was all her fault, all the while fucking her.”

Hannibal looked at you, also tapping at your face but to no avail. You were completely speechless and devoid of any human emotion. Like some fucking statue.

“All the fucking left her braindead huh.” Will whispered and then he leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss against you cheek. He shook your body lightly and there you were.

Staring at him, with your innocent eyes and his heart clenched. You still had remnants of who you were, just like all of them but he knew this would change you.

“There you are.” Hannibal said, a wave of relief washing over him. You stared between the two men and finally gathered the courage to reply to their question.

“Comfort.” Both their gazes narrowed in on you when you spoke, voice strained and almost gone from all the moaning you did. “You a-asked me what I believed I would ac—” You coughed out before continuing, “achieve from this. Comfort.”

Will’s jaw tightened.

Hannibal found you even more endearing than before. How foolish yet adorable of you to think being with them could bring you comfort. He caressed away the drop of nearly dried blood from your chin, watching it taint your skin further.

“Let's go, we're going home.” The blonde said — as Will nodded his head. He liked the idea of taking a broken person like you home, especially when you had chased them only as a means to seek comfort. He didn't know whether to think of it as something sad or something sweet.

But both of them had plenty of time to decide that, as they were taking you home.

[green-typewriterz]

hello 🥹 could you possibly write an unrequited love oneshot with art donaldson that’s actually just the reader being oblivious and projecting art’s actions and looks onto tashi

QUICK GOSSIP

Tashi Duncan/ reader, Art Donaldson x reader

Ask: hello 🥹 could you possibly write an unrequited love oneshot with art donaldson that’s actually just the reader being oblivious and projecting art’s actions and looks onto Tashi

summary: Art had never looked the your way… at least not while you were looking

Warnings: none really, reader is jealous i guess

Author Notes: hello ml! Thank you so much for this ask it was fun to write… its not ofen i do unrequited love oneshots!! I essentially listened to l’oeuf from the challengers soundtrack on a loop while writing the stairwell scene idk if you can tell.

word count: 1504

THE CAFETERIA

Art. It was always Art. You had been friends for a long time, growing up together playing tennis and deciding to go to Stanford to further it. He was someone you’d describe as your best friend. Though, you had always hoped there’d be something more.

Then, however, Art met Tashi.

Tashi Duncan was nice enough to you - though you weren’t sure it was in her biological makeup to be more than ‘nice enough’. The one thing you didn’t like (you hated admitting this) was that Tashi made you jealous. It was impossible to not notice how Art looked at her, his eyes tracking when she played or drinking in her outfits.

So, it did feel a little uncomfortable for you when the three of you would sit together at lunch and you didn’t know what to say. You liked to listen, sure - Tashi had interesting things to say - but you wished Art would talk to you. Or even just at you.

“Y/N hit a great shot the other day,” Art said to Tashi, practically gushing over you (though you were the ever oblivious fool toward this), “I was surprised it didn’t go straight through Mia’s racket.” He continued, talking about your match with Mia Lee-Kendall. It wasn’t a match you thought much of, sure you were good, but Mia wasn’t and so your win didn’t feel all that special. At least that’s what you told yourself. Maybe the reason you didn’t want to think about it that much was because of Tashi watching from the audience…right next to Art.

You practically zoned out of the conversation, eyes tracking Art’s in a sense of solemnity as he spoke (you weren’t even sure what he was saying anymore) and eventually, when Art leaned forward into his conversation more, you had had enough and stood up with the claim you were thirsty.

It only took a few moments for you to reach the fridge yet it seemed Tashi and Art were already in a world of their own, giggling about something. Giggling. 

You could admit that it hurt, seeing how happy they looked beside each other, whispering about something you were almost certain didn’t concern you. This assumption was answered when you walked over and the laughing stopped, Tashi turning to look at you as if there was some sort of joke you weren’t in on.

Art’s face was gently warmed, cheeks pink from some sort of embarrassment - though you weren’t sure why. The conversation quickly shifted to some other matter concerning tennis, though you found you weren’t really listening.

TENNIS PRACTICE

You had been practising the same backhand swing for the past hour, still not managing to get the movement how you wanted it - you were nothing if not a perfectionist. Maybe you would’ve gotten it eventually, but Art and Tashi had decided to grace you with their usual gossipping. It was the same position of leaning into each other, eyes darting across the room as if they were preparing for something big. It pissed you off.

“Want to play?” Art asked, lifting his racket up to show that he wanted to play a match with you. You didn’t reply, only sending a quick, distant nod and he crossed the courts, ending up opposite you.

The game was harsh, fast - not something Art was used to when he’d play against you. Your usual style was calm, calculated yet equally as powerful so this sudden shift to aggression caught him off guard. He tried to match your energy, but was stopped short when you returned the ball he had served with such force that he had to move out of the way - dropping his racket as he dodged.

He raised his hands, looking at you with confusion and annoyance. “What the fuck? You could’ve hit me!” He said, brows furrowing as he walked closer to the net - a sentiment you made no attempt to copy.

“You wanted to play.” You replied, voice harsh as you went to get another tennis ball from the side of the court. He scoffed, crossing his arms.

You finally turned to look at him and found him staring directly at you, eyes full with an emotion you couldn’t understand. Mother evening picked at your skin, raising your hairs as you approached again. It wiped the sweat from your neck, cooled the heat against your cheeks. “Sure, but that doesn’t mean I want a tennis ball shaped hole in me.” He replied.

There was no reply. You simply furrowed your brow and raised your racket, showing him you wanted to go again. Art sighed but gave in, heading for the back of the court once more. He matched the energy this time, hitting with force as you did (you could admit it made it harder to play, but you weren’t thinking of tennis at that moment).

All it took was for you to miss a shot and your racket was left shattered on the floor, its golden handle the only thing intact. You grabbed your bag and headed for the door, though that meant passing by Art on your way out.

And of course that meant he wanted you to say.

Art’s hand gripped your wrist, mouth centimetres from your ear as he whispered, “What’s your problem?” His eyes were set on yours, cheeks flushed from exertion. You tried to pull away from his hand but he only pulled you closer, bodies pushed toward one another.

“You.” Was your reply, one that seemed to shock Art. “You and all your secrets.” His hand released you now, trying to move to your shoulder in what seemed to be an attempt at comfort - something you didn’t let happen. Instead you walk away.

He follows, of course, arms trying to wrap around you in some sort of reassuring hug but your struggle proved you had no want for it and he acquiesced. Tashi was his resort, as if she would have the answers to his confusion.

STANFORD DORMS - BLOCK A - THE LIFT

You wait. The lift was a temperamental thing, but you were too tired, too annoyed to walk up the stairs. Instead, you leant against the wall, face still warm from practice that day. The lift offered a pathetic beep as the doors opened and you had to fight not to scream at who was inside. Tashi and Art stood there, silent and awkward - neither making direct eye contact as if you were some wounded animal.

“I’ll take the stairs.” You said with an irritated grunt before turning on your heel and pushing the door of the stairwell open.

Art followed behind you, as you had unfortunately expected and sped forward to stop you. That’s where the two of you stood, still and silent in the bottom of an echoey stairwell.

“Why do you hate me?” His question forced a new kind of silence into the room, a tension sitting thick against your chest as you found the words to reply to a question you never thought you’d get. Though, he had decided that you had taken too long to answer and asked again, though this time with more anger behind his tone, “Why do you hate me?”

Your words were just as sharp as yours, arms rising in frustration. “I don’t! I hate that you don’t love me.” You responded and he blanched, face contorting in shock before shifting into an almost invisible smile.

“I do.”

The word seemed to echo, and as his smile grew you stepped forward (though you weren’t sure it was by choice). “What?” You asked, words quiet and unsure.

Art smiled again, looking downward - you found your eyes flitting to the soft blond curls that fell over his face. “It’s um-” He began, seemingly trying not to laugh, “It’s always been you.” His hand rose to his mouth and he pinched his lip, a habit he had that you were especially fond of.

You placed your hand over your necklace, fiddling with it awkwardly and replied, “But Tashi-”

“Was giving me advice, trying to convince me to ask you out.” He laughed awkwardly afterward and you joined him, both of you leaning forward. You were willing to admit, it wasn’t your smartest moment.

He stepped closer to you, hand twitching, reaching out for yours. Art’s eyes, a beautiful mix of brown and blue, stared into yours, that same smile still playing on his lips. “I really want to kiss you.” The words were so quiet, so soft. You closed the gap between your hands, allowing his cool skin to settle against yours and he leaned in. There was a gentleness to it at first, which was quickly deepened as you moved closer. Your hand travelled up his neck, finding a place in his hair which elicited a shiver from him, a gasp. His breath shuddered as you kissed his jawline, head turning upwards. Art’s hands pulled you into him, fingers tickling gently against your waist. He whispered once more, through soft breaths,

“It’s always been you.”

[lostgirlfandom]

Fun and Games

Pairings: Duncan Vizla x GN!Reader

Warnings: mentions of bed time fun times, use of weapons, swear words

Words: 963

After living with Duncan for years by now, you would think he’d be use to your shenanigans.  

But he’s not.  

And that’s fine, because he likes how unpredictable you are. Sometimes, it’s you trying a new recipe.  

Others, it’s the weird times. Like now for instant.

Duncan had stood in the doorway to the living room with a paper bag full of food from the store, staring at you.  

Sitting on the floor with one leg pulled into your body and the other extended out as you leaned down to the floor with scissors and multiple pieces of paper spread out. The floor was cover with uncut photos and some cut photos with bits of edges all over the floor in a mess. The sound of your record player in the background softly echoes in the room. You were very concentrated on your task with your brow frowned and your tongue peeking out from your mouth.  

Duncan very slowly walked over to the kitchen next to the living room and sat the bag down on the table, never taking his eyes off of you.  

“What are you doing?.... and why are you on the floor?” He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at the scene in front of him.  

Without moving or taking your attention from your ‘project’ you speak. “Cutting out faces of all the people I think need to go.... and sticking them to the target practice boards.” Your words are slow as you finish cutting a photo.  

Duncan stays silent but slowly feels more confused but amused at your train of thought.  

“Look, this one gets bonus points if you get them in the dick!” You smile as you show a full body photo of your ex-boss who use to use you before you retired as an assassin.  

You lock eyes with Duncan, who still had his eyebrow raised at you. You smiled ‘innocently’ at him and after another pause of silence. “Wanna join?”  

His face goes back into its usual stoic nature and looks at you. His lip twitch for a moment and then sighs. “I’ll get the wine.”  

-

Twenty minutes later.  

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.  

The sounds of a .9mm hand gun goes off in the middle of the snow-covered land.  

Duncan and you had moved a little way from the house, each using your chosen weapon to aim at the targets about 50 yards from a table with bullet boxes and pictures waiting to be used and some pictures already used.  

Duncan put his gun down and looked at the target and swears under his breath as he is now behind by 10 points.  

You giggle as you wrap your arms around one of his, pressing your forehead into his arm.  

“Getting drunk, old man?” You tease as you reach over and take some sips from your bourbon glass. Having moved on from wine and to harder liquor, you both had finished each a bottle of wine and onto bourbon and whiskey.  

He sighs and shakes his head, but his lips twitched into a half grin. “No, darling. Just a slight buzz.”  

You give a hearty chuckle and go to pick up the next round of photos to go and pin them to the targets. Also having a slight buzz, but just enough to feel giggly.  

“Alright, this one has some bonus points.” You say semi-seriously as you walk back.  

You take your clip out and reload some bullets into the mechanism and then putting it back into the butt of the gun. Then taking the safety off and aiming, making sure your hands are in a good position and then squeezing the trigger when you were ready.  

After emptying the clip, you lowered your gun and looked at the target, only gaining another 10 points. You pursed your lips as you looked over at your lover.  

He tilted his head and nodded. “Not bad, love.” He then did the same process as you did and emptied his clip into his target. Gaining 15 points, he grinned as he looked at you.  

You both finished your glasses and then filled up again. You then clipping the next targets to the stands. Sighing, you turned back to him and found him staring at you as he leaned on his hands on the table.  

You smiled as you walked back to him and kissing his cheek briskly. His eyes shined softly as he watched you.  

You paused as you slowly put the clip back into the gun. Your eyes distant as you lost in thought. “Lets... make a prize for the winner.” You smirked at him playfully.  

He stoically leaned against the table and crossed his arm. “... Continue.”

You smiled and leaned forward. “If I win... you have to do that think I like in bed.... and if you win...” You pause to think, zoning out slightly and biting your tongue in thought.  

“You have to submit to me...” He speaks slowly but a very small smirk grows on his lips.  

You break out of your thoughts and stare at him for a moment. “Deal.”  

You both lean forward and shake each other's hands.  

Turning back to the game with renewed enthusiasm to win, you both glare in determination.  

-

Thirty minutes later... you both are walking back into the house. You have a pout on your lips and your feet are dragging. He is walking with a confident stride and a grin on his face. Both of your cheeks red from drinking and the cold.  

“Can’t believe I lost.... Shit!” You say as you move to the kitchen to make you both hot chocolates.  

“Shouldn’t have doubted me, elskede.” He told you as he sat at the table. 

You sighed.  

Tonight was gonna be long.  

[quamaii]

Max when the contraption he built specifically for Jimmy to throw knives at Duncan is used by Jimmy to throw knives at Duncan:

[sugarlesswriting]

Line cook Duncan, mechanic Duncan, tattoo artist Duncan, werewolf Duncan

Now get ready for Duncan working the night shift at a sex shop

[the-gom-jabbar]

Dune Part 2: *Throws in multiple shots of Paul waking into the desert alone*

Dune Messiah Fans: *vibrating*

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Merthur fic/playlist!

So when I finally got back into fic writing back in early October (can't believe it's been that long!) I started out with this four-part Merthur fic (it's one continuous AU where each of the four parts tackles an event that should have happened: in order, a love confession, a magic reveal, a reconciliation with Morgana, and taking down Uther). It's deliciously angsty and tender and the playlist greatly reflects that.

Excerpt:

Arthur's gaze is unnerving. It is wretched. It is impossibly close as Arthur leans in and their lips connect, a salty communion, a bitter goodbye, the sweetest of surprises, the sourest of reminders.

Arthur's kiss digs. It burrows beneath Merlin's skin and into his heart and shoves its roots in and he gasps into it, knowing that he will never be able to hold onto it.

Arthur goes to pull up, to pull away, and Merlin's hand shoots out instinctively, without thought, to grab the back of his neck and pull him back.

Merlin is a weak, craven creature, he knows. He is owed nothing save the other side of his coin. His destiny says nothing about love. It says pretty much the opposite, in fact, condemns him to be a lonely shadow to the greatest King to ever walk Albion's stones.

He should let go. He should let Arthur have his future with Gwen, his Kingship without nasty ties to sorcerous servant men who have three strikes against them in terms of love.

But even as his fingers slacken, Arthur's grab his and hold tight, tugging him close, holding him closer.

[whorcruxes]

The Knight and the Dragon

Claire goes on a quest, seeking vengeance for her husband Jamie’s death.

AO3

[oatshow]

In a kinder universe, [they] would have walked away from Scarif…

[ysabeausfrenchtwist]

Ysabeau de Clermont's Outfits in A Discovery of Witches Season 2

[dolicekiss]

Hey,

could you please write a yandere Hannibal one-shot, where the reader is one of Bedelia‘s ex patients/friends and Will‘s best friend. Will soon knows Hannibal is interested in her,( after she met him,while dropping of Will for therapy) and tries to ^save^ her from him. However Hannibal again has his way and maybe it ebds with smut?

♡: ohmygod i was literally about to write a yandere nigel but this is even better, especially knowing how manipulative hannibal can be !! also, i hope i do this justice, thanks :D

Famished

PAIRING: Yandere!Hannibal x Gullible, mentally disturbed female reader.

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+ only, minors dni) unprotected sex, manipulative hannibal, oral (female receiving) fingering, yandere hannibal, mention of drugging, mentally disturbed reader and traumatized, taking advantage (hannibal is cooking up plans) slight breeding kink, reader is very gullible <3 that's all

SYNOPSIS: After dropping Will Graham to his therapy session and having a run in with his prominent, renowned psychiatrist — Dr. Hannibal Lecter, you become the object of his infatuation and obsession. It is in his best interests to make you fall for him, make you his. Whether it is by his cunning manipulation tactics or his alluring charms.

For the first time ever, Hannibal Lecter found himself lost and in a puzzled position.

He was at a loss of words for the immense amount of adoration and awe swelling in his chest whenever he laid his eyes on you — which was rare. As you only came by when you had to drop your best friend, Will Graham to his office. It wasn't in your daily routine, as you had other things in life that required your attention but whenever you were available and whenever Will needed your help, you were there.

Because he was there when you needed someone.

Hannibal’s brain was quick to recognize you though, after seeing an old file of yours in Bedelia’s office, with your picture inside. It had all your details and Hannibal felt as if it was meant to be. He'd read your file, in the absence of Bedelia. Completely out of character for even someone like him but he knew you.

He knew all of you.

The exchange of pearly smiles between you and Will when he first introduced you to Hannibal was not very pleasing to the eye for the blonde male. Aggravated but hiding behind the mask of politeness, he only returned those smiles and then watched you leave his office.

That same night, both Hannibal and Will were restless. Will because he had noticed the curiosity awakening in Hannibal’s impassive gaze when he took note of you and Hannibal laid restless because of the uneasiness felt ever since you had left his office. He had this, insatiable urge, he felt —famished.

And only you could satiate that hunger of his.

“Hannibal, you appear lost.” Bedelia commented, the dullness of her office somehow matching his own. The two shared similar tastes, no wonder he was associated with her.

He lifted his gaze up from the red carpet covering the entirety of her floor, fingers tucked understand his chin. He was indeed lost, lost in you. Like an alligator, you had consumed him whole and he slightly twitched in the seat.

Hannibal had a plan.

This was the plan.

“I had a run in with one of Will’s associates, who also used to be your patient.” He responded, bitterly referring to you as his associate instead of his friend because even the idea of that burned him with such envy and jealousy.

Will didn't deserve you.

Not as his friend, not as something else.

Bedelia crossed her leg, staring at him with certain curiosity. “I do not break doctor patient confidentiality.”

“I'm aware.” Hannibal responded as quickly as he could, eyeing the woman. His presence was heavy and his gaze was sharp as an eagle's. Nothing missed him, not even the subtle details and minorities of life.

He noticed everything.

Hannibal laid his hands on his lap, mimicking Bedelia as he crossed his leg over the other but with much more authority. “Why did you stop seeing her?”

Bedilia scoffed. “I didn't stop seeing her, she told me her mind had healed. That she didn't need me anymore, that she was fine.” Her voice was laced with subtle bitterness at how you interrupted their sessions. Bedelia felt like she was being called incompetent indirectly by you.

That was all Hannibal needed.

This time you dropped Will off again but this time, he seemed evidently upset with the idea of you running in with Hannibal Lecter again. It was weird to you, how he acted when it came to you crossing paths with his psychiatrist. Hell, you'd even made a joke about not snatching the handsome doctor away from Will.

But he only responded with a sour face, definitely not impressed with your horrible attempt at a joke.

As he exited the car and headed for his office, you watched him but then your eyes captured a wallet and a phone right where Will was sitting. He'd left his belongings behind. You let out a sigh, contemplating whether to give them to him now or later. You didn't care that your bestfriend acted all sour at the mention of crossing paths with Hannibal.

He was uncomfortable with the idea of you meeting his own psychiatrist, now that was weird. You left the car too, with the items in your hand and headed inside. Air chilly against your skin, you smiled at how its soft hands caressed your skin, prickling it slightly but you basked in the feeling.

As you reached the door, you knocked on it and waited for someone to open it. It was peeled open and there stood Hannibal, and a smile broke when he caught you standing there. Cladded in a long coat, which concealed a casual dress behind it. His gaze took you in, drank you like the most finest wine and then he captured the familiar wallet and phone in your hand.

He'd seen it one too many times in the hand of his patient.

“Here to return his belongings, I assume?”

You nodded your head. “He forgot these.”

Extending out your hand with Will’s things in your hand, the door was pulled open more revealing another figure. Will stared at you, a look of annoyance on his face when he found you standing there. He'd told you, even subtly warned you to not ever come to Hannibal’s office but here you were. Breaking the only rule that he presented before you.

You rolled your eyes at Will, his behavior abnormal and different than usual was something you didn't appreciate at all.

Hannibal took the things from you and then handed them over to Will. “I'll take my leave then, goodbye.”

Just like that, you were out of the towering presence of those two. God, was it only your imagination or did it actually feel suffocating being in their presence together — especially after Will had warned you off basically to not come in front of Hannibal Lecter ever. The way he smiled at you, it was sweet but for some reason, goosebumps woke up on your skin.

You shook your head, went home and after a warm shower, curled up in your bed. An attempt to sleep, for the umpteenth time but everytime you rested your eyes, that same nightmare haunted you once more. Adding a new digit to the list as it did. Reminding you of the darkness that would always stay within you. Rooted inside you.

The blood soaked hands, the screams, the shattering of glass — it replayed over and over again. Like a film that was lagging a lot, hesitating to go forward, so all you could do was rewind and watch that same scene over and over.

You woke up, drenched in sweat. Chest heavy and lungs desperate to drag in as much air as they could. It was all too vivid, like it had happened today and not years before when you were only a little girl.

It wasn't easy living with the fact that you had been spared by your kidnapper while he slaughtered your friend, right before your very gaze. You didn't deem it worth it, didn't find yourself worthy enough to be alive, instead of her.

If he'd only killed you too.

— ♡ —

The next day Will had told you he'd pick you up from your house and take you somewhere, somewhere where he could discuss something important with you. It baffled you when the man pulled up to his own house, the irony of it leaving you with certain uneasiness.

“Will, just tell me. Are you jealous?”

That could be the only reason.

He stayed silent, not answering your question before letting out a sigh of what you assumed to be frustration. He shook his head, fingers scurrying to fix his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Eyebrows furrowed and curls resting against his forehead.

“You need to stay away from Hannibal Lecter. He is a dangerous man, a sadist, a cunning bastard.” You blinked at all the profanities Will Graham was suddenly using to describe his own psychiatrist.

You had no idea of his little plan to play along with Hannibal to catch him so this whole situation was extremely uncomfortable for you.

“You're making that up.” You accused him, with a shake of your hand to dimiss his accusations. “If he was such a cunning bastard, he wouldn't be your psychiatrist.”

“Listen to me.” Will’s voice was dangerously low, frustration obvious in it. “Just do what I'm saying. Don't linger around him, don't even drop me off anymore.”

The water was slowly boiling over your heads and it could spill at any moment. Tension rose in the room and you, with your adamant personality, didn't give in. You wanted— no, you needed to know this. Just what the fuck was going on and why were you being kept in the dark?

It made you feel hopeless and almost sad, because to you it seemed as the only paddle in your life didn't really trust you.

“First, stop hiding shit from me. I'm your fucking bestfriend, Will. Just tell me—”

The loud noise of his palms slamming down on the wooden table in his living room made you flinch. Your body jumping as you let out a shriek at the loud noise, not very fond of them ever since the traumatizing event from your childhood. You hadn't expected him to react like this, especially with such aggression.

“Just stay the fuck away from Hannibal Lecter. That's all I'm asking you to do, you can't even do that?” Eyebrows scrunched and disappointment swirling behind those specs of his, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach at his tone, words and his unexplainable behavior.

It all overwhelmed you to the core.

Then a knock interrupted you both.

Will and you turned around and found Hannibal standing behind the net door, his aura slicing through the heavy tension that hung like a knife on your heads. You composed yourself, hands with a tremor reaching out to fix the few loose strands of your messy bun.

You swallowed thickly — once more put in a situation where you had to pretend to be fine for someone else. All because of your own bestfriend.

The fact made you vulnerable, so fucking vulnerable. To the point Hannibal would smell it off you and it gave him the perfect opportunity, laid out on a damn silver platter. Awaiting to be devoured.

“What're you doing here, Hannibal?”

Hannibal’s gaze exchanged between the two of you, pretending as if he wasn't just standing outside eavesdropping on your conversation. It was evident on your face that you wanted to leave, as soon as you could but without Will’s help, you couldn't actually leave. His fucking house was in the middle of nowhere and he was your only ride.

You wrapped an arm around yourself instinctively, a habit you'd adapted to when you were little. In a silly little attempt to protect yourself from the harm you faced as a child.

“Had to discuss something about a case but I guess I chose the wrong timing?” His gaze trailed over you and he took notice of the way your chest fell and rose, how you stood there as if you were cornered and scared, your own arm wrapped around you in a sense to provide the comfort you ached for.

You seemed so perfect like this.

On the verge of breaking.

“I'll be outside.” You didn't even bother grabbing your coat, only reached for the door and left without sparing them both a glance.

The cold hit you like a damn truck, shivers dancing across your spine. Regret consumed you about not grabbing your coat from Will’s hanger but you were too stubborn to go back inside and take it. So you chose to suffer in the cold, sitting by the stairs, staring ahead into the darkness the forest and the night had to offer you.

You thought about Will. His behavior, how he'd spoken to you despite knowing your history and it pained you but as usual, you suppressed it. Your pain didn't matter, how could it matter when you were lucky enough to be left alive while your own friend was slaughtered like some fucking animal?

Knees glued to your chest, you didn't know for how long you stayed there but you felt someone put a coat on you. Your body was quick to absorb the warmth it had to offer and you lifted your head up, hoping you'd find Will but instead Hannibal had shown you more decency than your own friend.

‘Cunning bastard, this?’ You thought.

“Thank you.” You held the coat tightly around your shoulder and noticed it wasn't yours, it was his own. Hannibal had given you his own coat and the bare minimum action, the simple act of kindness, it all was enough to worsen the situation for you right now.

For Hannibal, this was perfect.

You were the perfect prey.

He knew Will would react the way he had — his emotional outbursts were bound to get aggressive and he wanted Will to be on thin ice around you. To make you cautious of him, so that your lonely heart will begin searching for another companion.

Him.

“Your car isn't in the driveway, which means Will is going to drop you off.” He said and stared ahead at the empty space next to Will’s car. “But I suppose you don't really wish to be in his presence right now.”

You slowly nodded.

He was a psychiatrist, a witty one at that. There was no point in lying to the man as you tightened the coat around you. His scent bringing along a sense of comfort. It was warm, a little like nature itself.

“If you allow me, I can drop you off.”

Hannibal extended his hand out, staring down at you and you looked at his hand, then him. It was a moment of silence but help was offered and you slowly slipped your hand into his, as he raised you up from the ground. The touch of your hand, being this fucking fortunate enough to be able to feel you flesh to flesh, Hannibal was over the moon. An itch growing in his thumb to run it lightly over the skin of your knuckles but he somehow with the power of a celestial being restrained himself.

Your perfume had branded his skin.

You had branded his skin.

He lead you to his car and you sat inside, all the while Will watched from his window. There was only so much he could do but he knew that Hannibal’s charm was difficult, nearly impossible to resist. Whether he visited in the form of archangel azrael, a companion or a foe.

He was still going to be in control.

The car ride was silent when it began. Your gaze lingering over the passing street lamps, blurring in your vision as a lone tear slid down your cheek. Akin to the person you were, lonely and isolated.

“I could sense the tension in the air.” Hannibal’s soft voice sliced through the silence. “Are you alright?”

You turned to him and nodded. “Just a small misunderstanding, that is all.”

It was, infact, not a misunderstanding. Hannibal knew why you seemed this heartbroken, about the incident that occurred to you as a child, about Will’s outburst and how it terrified you.

Like a ripe fruit, you were all raw and vulnerable. Ready to be consumed by him, to be savored by him, to get rid of his insatiable hunger.

Hannibal believed he could fix you — by not fixing you at all. A broken masterpiece you were and he'd be damned if he tried to put back the pieces together. He preferred the picture he saw right now more.

“He should not have raised his voice at you.”

Your gaze lifted up. “You heard it?”

He nodded, while swiftly taking a turn into a street. “I did not mean to pry, my deepest apologies. I managed to arrive exactly at the time when he was having his outburst.”

“It's fine.” Your head hung low as you played with your fingers in your lap. Hannibal noticed, writing it down in his little mental diary he'd kept in his head. “I don't understand why he behaved the way he did. It was, upsetting.”

You mumbled the last word, shaking your head. Hannibal glanced your way. “You were under Bedelia's care, no?”

By now, you'd come to know that the two were friends and knew each other. But deep down you hoped that they hadn't discussed you like some curse, like some ugly freak who magically survived a cruel man while her friend got swallowed.

“Yes.” You whispered. “Her ways to heal the human mind are, peculiar.”

To be honest, Bedelia seemed like a woman who cared more about the influence and power she had on you than your well-being and that feeling of forced incompetence along with other things became the reason of your end with her.

Hannibal chuckled, barely.

It was just there and you heard it for a single moment. “Did you not find her treatment appropriate?”

“I didn't deem her fit to be my doctor,” you picked at the skin around your nails out of habit. “honestly, I don't find anyone fit to be my doctor.”

There was silence.

But Hannibal soon spoke. “Could the feeling that only you're capable of understanding your mind because of you going through what you did be the cause of this?”

Jesus, the man was spot on.

It slightly unnerved you.

“Are you analyzing me, Dr. Lecter?” There was soft sarcasm your voice was laced with as you smiled.

The man stared straight ahead. “Maybe, would you mind allowing me to analyze you at my office over a glass of wine?”

You knew you couldn't go back to your lonely house, especially after the remnants of Will’s behavior affecting you the way they did. The sound of his palms slamming down on the wood echoed in the back of your mind and you had no other option than to agree to Hannibal’s offer.

But poor you, it was all part of his plan.

He'd read your file, thoroughly, well aware of your triggers and your mind. How it worked, processed things, he knew it all and the wicked man used it to his advantage. To lure you in like a prince charming only to shift into a hideous beast.

When you made it to his office, the man had offered you the finest of wine. The most expensive one, all the way from Florence and you could practically taste italy in the bottle — delicious, warm and fruity. You reveled in each sip as you sat across the man on his table, flipping through a book about the human mind.

You enjoyed reading books, found solace in them and Hannibal had all the more to offer.

“I can't believe you've got these many books.” You pointed out, lifting your eyes up at the man who was now coming down from the ladder with multiple books in his arms. It was sweet how he was offering you his book, his wine, his company because somewhere he knew you needed it.

Loneliness was a slow death.

Poison so bitter but painful, it tore you apart piece by piece.

He ambled his way towards you, taking a seat on the chair and placing the books right in front of you on the table. “These are nothing. I own a library too.”

Your eyes widened. “You're kidding.”

Hannibal’s heart skipped a beat at how your eyes expanded in sheer shock, his lips expressing a small smile. You seemed akin to a child in that moment, innocent and appalled by the idea.

“No, dear. I'm fortunately not.” He replied, hands settled on the table. “I could take you there.”

“I'd love to go.” You were quick to reply back but then composed yourself a little, not wanting to come across as desperate. You began coursing through the book, reading the contents of it simultaneously sipping your wine.

Then Hannibal spoke. “You seem disturbed, dear.”

You stopped reading and looked at him, with a confused expression before realizing what he meant. Will’s behavior had left you in a great deal of confusion as well as underlined fear. It was stomach churning, when you remembered how dark his eyes were or how angry he appeared. All too similar to the fragments of the man that had abducted you during you childhood.

“He reminded me of him.” You blunted out, not really caring anymore to conceal your emotions and fears. It had to be how vulnerable you were seeming, craving human companionship and attention. To be comforted and reassured that nothing was wrong with you.

Hannibal leaned forward. “Of who?”

“The man who took me.” Your fingertip danced over the stamped ink on the beige piece of paper, gaze following along the letters and lines. “Every aggressive man reminds me of him.”

“Your fear of aggressive men stems from your childhood, as one had taken you. It is no surprise you'd feel uneasiness in Will’s presence now.” Hannibal was right. These heightened emotions of fear and discomfort would only consume you if you continued seeing Will in the light that he had presented himself in.

He was your friend. Your best friend, the man who was always there — to be your paddle and to be your pillar but now you were scared of him. Of everything, the whole situation to stay away from Hannibal. You were right in his office and so far, he had brought you no harm at all.

Only provided you with company.

“He told me to stay away from you.” The lump in your throat began to grow. If you had a gut feeling, it had definitely melted in the presence of Hannibal. Blinded by his charm and his long blonde strands hovering over his forehead. “It was confusing, Dr. Lecter. It was— too much. He repeated it like a broken record, over and over again. Ordered me even and I don't understand why he was telling me to be this cautious when you're his psychiatrist.”

Hannibal and you made eye contact, for a brief moment before you averted your gaze from him, lacking the courage to look straight into his penetrating eyes.

“Will is unstable.” Hannibal stated, as he caressed his own hand with the fingers of the other. “I have no intention to ruin the camaraderie you both have but his attempt to kill me tells me enough about his mind.”

Your eyes expanded.

Will tried to do what?

And the fact that Hannibal seemed so unbothered about it and continued seeking him as a patient. It was like Bedelia’s case all over again, except hers actually ended meanwhile Hannibal continued giving Will his time and effort.

“But why? I don't get it and you're still seeing him—just, what is going on?” Stressed and frustrated, feeling like you were being kept in the dark, you brought your fingers upto your forehead and began massaging it. It was too much for you, especially when you had your own battles to fight.

Hannibal reached for you, his own hand placed above yours. In silent comfort. “Will is my friend, or so I see him as one. He's unstable and his acts of impulsivity are my responsibility to fix although—”

He stopped and tilted his head. “I can see it is beginning to affect you too.”

You sighed, as you didn't remove your hand from underneath his. Only watching him with a gaze clouded in confusion. This was all like plates shattering over and over on the top of your head and still there is no bleeding, only the throbbing pain that increased with time.

Maybe Hannibal was right.

He was his doctor after all. Will appeared unstable, especially after his behavior tonight and the complexity of the situation terrified you.

“It is humiliating to be flesh.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you finished all your wine. The sound of Hannibal’s chair scraping against the floor caught your attention and you watched as he rose up from his seat and walked towards you. In his hand was a sketchbook that he'd retrieved from his table.

He stood next to you, placing the sketchbook over your book and then leaning down. The close proximity should've made you uncomfortable, should've sent you scurrying out of his office but because of how gentle he was, you didn't budge. “Open it.”

Your fingers with a subtle tremor in them reached for the crisp edge of the sketchbook and you flipped it open revealing the art of pencils. Humans, bodies, organs, they were all presented to beautifully and you looked up at Hannibal.

Face a few inches apart.

“You made this?”

He nodded.

You flipped through a few more and resisted the urge to caress the face of the greek personalities he'd drawn. They were so beautiful, as beautiful as him and you didn't find yourself uncomfortable like how you expected you would when laying eyes upon the more —gruesome part of his art.

It was beautiful.

“This is truly spectacular.” You commented in a whisper as you raised your stare from the sketches and looked up at him. Your lips were only a few inches apart and Hannibal found himself completely captivated by you. The sheer vulnerability and raw pain in your gaze was tugging him towards his arousal, undeniable and strong for you.

He swallowed as his dark eyes took in the sight of your lips.

And you repeated his actions, staring at his lips in return.

It all happened too fast. He'd kissed you, hand reaching to brush the hair behind your shoulder, then moving to grasp your face in it as he delved deeper. Hannibal was holding back so much, concealing the animal that he was from you, hiding beneath the cloak of a gentle demeanor and a beautiful face. His thumbs swiped over your cheek in gentle brush strokes as he pried your lips open, inserting his tongue.

Draping it around your own, the kiss grew intense and this was the first time you'd ever gotten involved with a man like this. It was too inundating but it also felt extremely good as you had denied yourself this pleasure for so long.

Hannibal’s hands slithered down to your waist, to circle around it curve of it as he raised you from the chair, lifting you up to place you down on the table. Still your height couldn't accommodate with his, neck craned up to kiss him. He soon broke the kiss, forehead pressed against yours as his warm breath mingled with yours.

“It is not humiliating to be flesh, rather special and profound.” He whispered, in response to your sentence from earlier as you gazed up at him. Eyes clouded by desire as your heart swelled with finally feeling like you were being understood. Hannibal understood you.

The connection you felt with him was intense.

The man leaned, and you expected him to kiss you again but this time he chose to attack your neck, peppering kisses all over the unmarked skin. His hands rested by your side, fingers digging into the wooden desk to keep the monster inside him at bay. He was too overwhelmed by his wanton for you but you were a fragile little thing.

He couldn't scare you, not yet.

His teeth dug into your skin, biting and tugging like some beast and you winced in response. It felt good but it was something you hadn't tried with anyone before. You've had sex before— one boy and he was nowhere near the same level as Hannibal. Just by biting on your skin, the man had you squirming.

“If Will finds out—”

He silenced you by pressing a finger on your lips. “Will shouldn't care. You're a mature, independent, grown woman. You know what you want, don't you?”

You nodded.

He was treating you like an adult, rather than some broken little doll. But that was Hannibal’s play, he knew that you craved the validation, you wanted to get treated like an adult and not some damaged person. After being in therapy, people almost treated you as you were some mentally unstable person who didn't know what she wanted. A broken, deranged person that didn't know better.

Hannibal made you feel differently, in such a short amount of time.

“So beautiful.” He whispered, as his fingers moved to the buttons of your dress. He unbuttoned each, swiftly proving that he was an experienced man and then his hands rose up to your shoulders, slipping the dress off and exposing the bare skin.

Your breath hitched and in a couple of minutes, Hannibal had completely rid you of any clothes. His own blazer soon came off, followed by his tie and then his shirt. Before you could reach for the buckle of his dress pants, he scoped you up in his arms and took you over to the couch. Lips pressed against yours, he bit harshly on your lower lip, enough to draw blood and somehow you enjoyed this aggressive manner of his kissing.

He laid you down on the couch and crawled on top of you, his knee settled between your thighs. You whimpered upon contact with his clothed knee as he traveled down, while leaving kissing against your skin, face buried between your thighs. The man held you open to his lascivious gaze, pressing a soft kiss against your clit causing you to shudder. Your thighs twitched in response and he loved how your body responded to his touch.

You were a delicious fucking sight.

He licked a long stripe across your cunt and your back lifted off the couch in anticipation. Hannibal pushed you back down, both his hands holding you firmly down on the couch, his arm prying your thighs further open. Closing his lips around your clit, he sucked feverishly and you cried out. It felt too fucking good.

One hand released you, dropping between your legs. His fingers ran up and down your cunt, coating themselves in the slick of your arousal and then slowly, he added a finger into you. He was gentle with it and stared up at you, mouth still continuing its assault on your clit while holding eye contact. Tears danced on your waterline, waiting for that one single push to slide down in rivulets on your face.

His finger picked up its pace then he added another. Your wet walls clung tightly onto his fingers, pulling them in and he reveled in all the little sounds you and your body kade. The whimpers you released, the wet sounds of your greedy pussy and the ragged breathing escaping you.

“How do you feel, Darling? How good am I making you feel with just my mere fingers?”

Hannibal’s voice had fallen a few octaves lower, deep and rough. You parted your lips open to speak but the wicked man curved his finger and your lips only let out a gasp, eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. He grinned at your reaction. “Answer me.”

You swallowed down another whine threatening to run out of your throat. “It feels amazing, Hannibal. Just —so good.”

He added a third finger and curved them altogether, hitting them against the little sponge of pleasure inside you, rapidly and with increasing speed. Your hands traveled down to grip on his golden strands, fisting them as he continued licking across your cunt and fucking you with his fingers.

Then he stopped.

Dropping all his movement.

His tongue replaced his fingers causing you to buck your hips in anticipation and need, aching for more. Hannibal was feasting on you and he wasn't going to stop anytime soon. He was beyond it. Not possessing any sort of self control anymore.

Fingernails digging into the side of your hips, he dragged them down into your skin as he hungrily ate you out. Tongue plunging in and out of your tiny hole, licking and savoring the taste of you. You were fucking sweet, heavenly and delicious. Hannibal’s mind was clouded by his lust, his ache for you. How he wished he could trap you inside thess walls of his office, of his home and never let you out ever again.

Even the sun and moon didn't deserve to capture the sight of you.

“Hannibal, I'm close.” You whined, thighs shaking as your stomach churned with a foreign feeling. It was going to be fucking intense, you knew it because of how much you were shaking.

He looked up at you. “Come for me, Darling. Make a mess.”

Your stomach clenched and twisted at his words and you soon unfurled underneath him. Thighs suffering from perpetual convulsions and eyes seeing white, rolling to the back of your head. Blood pumping in your chest, spreading like wildfire in your veins as your forehead perspired. The searing pain from your tight grip on his hair only hardened his cock, as it stirred against his thighs. Hannibal reveled in the pain you inflicted upon him.

He rose up from between your legs and your overstimulated pussy throbbed at the sight of him. Your orgasm dripped down his chin, plump lips glossy and covered in the juices you'd produced. Face messy and flushed, he stared back at you with a hazy look in his darkened eyes.

When you came down from your high, you found Hannibal completely naked. Long gone were his dress pants and underwear and your were taken aback at the length of his cock as well as the girth. The first and last time you slept with someone, their size was nowhere the same as Hannibal. The drastic change was slightly overwhelming for you, it even terrified you a little.

He took a seat on the couch, at the end of your feet and then pulled you up, settling you on top of his thighs. Holding you in his muscular arms, the man held the tip of his cock against your hole and then slowly sat you down.

You head fell against his shoulder, face buried in his neck. Being able to feel him like this, sinking all the way down to the hilt, you could only whimper. Hannibal made you feel so full and it was only the beginning.

You felt his fingers trapping your cheeks between them, as he pulled your face out of its hiding spot. Four fingers resting on one side while his thumb squeezed the other. Tears sprung out, sliding across your cheeks and crashing into his digits. You sniffled as he stared at you. Eyes lacking emotions and face still. Hannibal was a man who possessed immense control over himself, he couldn't give away his obsession for you.

“You will look at me.” He commanded, voice thick with need. “As I fuck your little cunt and make you unravel on my cock, you will not move your gaze away from me. Understood?”

You could only nod.

His grip tightened on your cheeks and you winced, lips forming a forced pout. You knew what that little act meant and you parted your lips, managing to mumble out, “Yes, I understand.”

Hannibal nodded, satisfaction glimmering in his dark eyes as he released your face. Both hands now settled on your hips, he began to move you up and down with your help. You gasped every time you felt his cock graze against your wet wells, the feeling consuming your ability to think. Your nails managed to draw blood from his skin but Hannibal didn't care. He wanted you to leave more marks, brand him as his, make him yours.

Oh he was already yours.

“Move, Darling.” You started to move too, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down on him. Over and over again, it was repetitive and Hannibal’s face was full of pleasure. His grip tight and firm on your hips, almost as if he were trying to seperate the flesh from the bone.

But you liked it.

He held you like he didn't want you to disappear.

You fucking loved that.

You both stared into each other's eyes, Hannibal’s domineering stare overpowering yours an you nearly made the grave mistake of shutting your eyes but the little pinch on your waist made you peel them back open as fast as you closed them.

“Don't be disobedient now. I expected better from you.” You could sense the disappointment in his voice and you shook your head, still riding his cock and clenching around him everytime you felt his tip bruise your sensitive spot.

You stared at him, through a blurred vision. “You're intimidating—” You sputtered, the sentence breaking. “when you stare at me like this, its intimidating.”

“Do I scare you?”

You shook your head. “No, you're beautiful.”

That was enough to cause Hannibal to become a mess. Fuck, he was all over the place and unfortunate enough for you, you couldn't see it but the man was a mess on the inside. The skipped beating of his heart, the way his eyes were almost turned into little crescents, the smile lines appearing for a split moment before vanishing.

You felt him press his lips against yours, this time in a rough kiss. Arms circled tightly around you. He kissed you like a wild beast having its feast, enjoying its food. His teeth grazed against yours when you opened your mouth, lips against lips, tongue dancing with tongue. Salivas mixing together, it was too messy and you felt the mixed saliva dripping down your chin. He lapped at your wet muscle, sucking on it.

All the while he slammed you down on his hard cock and you let out a high pitched whine into his mouth. That action alone was enough for his cock to harden even more inside you, his hands now unwrapping from your waist and toying with your bare breasts.

“Such a tight little pussy—” He grunted, head thrown back. “so fucking tight.”

Fingers rolling your nipples between them, tugging and massaging the soft flesh. The searing kiss, the sensitive touch of his fingers against your breasts, the slow and rough thrusts of his cock — all of it combined pulled you near another orgasm.

Your toes curled at each thrust and then Hannibal switched the position, laying you down on the couch and getting on top of you with his cock still inside you. Grabbing you by your ankles, he placed them on his shoulders and began to fuck you at an animalistic pace.

“Hanni—" You cried out, lips agape and tears continuously falling down.

He didn't stop. His bangs were sticking to his forehead, a snarl making its way to his face and that was the hottest thing you'd ever seen. To the point it made you tighten around him. “You're mine. You're mine to fuck, mine to claim, mine to own and possess.”

You took those words as something said in the heat of the moment but Hannibal? Oh he was serious. He meant each and every word, every syllable came straight from the darkness in his heart.

His hips snapped and your stomach went crazy into knots. “Please, please. Harder, please Hannibal.”

You were crying out for him at this point. Your hand reaching out to touch his chest but he didn't allow you, grabbing both of your hands and pinning them above your head on the couch. Bending your knees to the point they were pushed against your chest, his face grew closer to yours. Staring deeply into your soul and that moment felt intimate more than anything you'd ever experienced in the world.

“My pretty Darling.”

You swallowed.

Just his dark gaze. You could live your whole life while being captured in those obsidian eyes.

Snaps growing relentless, he kept fucking you till you came all over his cock. Your orgasm slipping out in the form of liquid, making a mess everywhere. Staining his couch, his chest, his cock. Leaving evidence of the sexual encounter between the two of you in a moment. Hannibal let out a chuckle — deep and soft. Music from heaven to your ears.

You almost ascended to heaven from how good it felt. His cock still thrusting up against your cervix, bruising your spot and continuing its assault. Your sensitive body hadn't even calmed down, still twitching and shivering but Hannibal didn't seem it fit to stop.

A low growl rumbled from his chest as the sound of skin against skin grew, reverberating against the walls of his office. With a loud groan, he also spilled inside you. Coating your walls white, throbbing and pulsating inside you. Filling you up to the brim and he didn't care if you were to get pregnant.

Hannibal was a father once.

To his little sister Mischa.

He wouldn't mind having a child of his own, especially with you.

He fucking loved filling you up and he'd make sure to do it again. After all, you were his now.

The man slowly adjusted himself underneath you on the couch, making you lay on top of his to the side. Arms wrapping tightly around you, he held you pressed against his chest as you came down from your high. His hand brushing your hair gently, caressing your forehead.

Only the fire crackling in the fireplace could be heard, mixed with the soft uneven rhythms of your breathing. You couldn't believe you'd slept with Hannibal, right after your best friend had a literal outburst about it. Guilt took over and you slowly sat up, grabbing Hannibal’s shirt from the floor to cover yourself up with it.

“You're thinking.” He commented.

You looked at him and sighed. “I have this guilt consuming me.”

Hannibal reached over, brushing your hair behind. Playing with the strands. “Why's that?”

“Will is unstable, and I have been there too. I should have heard him out instead of running away from him.” You sighed, shoulders slumped. Hannibal didn't like that, he didn't like that you were feeling bad now. After all he'd done, he couldn't have you feeling bad for Will.

“You reacted according to your trauma, it is completely valid. You were in a situation where you didn't feel safe, so you removed yourself from it.” Thumb caressing against your cheek, he smiled. It was subtle. “You should prioritize yourself more often.”

Somewhere Hannibal was right too.

You leaned against his chest, closing your eyes. Then you felt a stinging sensation in the back of your nape. It hurt but it wasn't extreme, like something had pierced you. Just then you looked up and saw Hannibal already staring at you.

Your vision became distorted.

“Hannibal..?” You called out, confused and in a daze. “What's happening?”

“Go to sleep, Darling. You'll be alright soon enough.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and fear filled you up. Just what was happening? The man held you in his embrace, caressing your cheek as you slowly lost all control of your limbs and fell against his chest.

Darkness dragged you in, from your feet and the last thing you remembered was seeing Hannibal with a syringe in his hand.

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: February 23

“Inkpot Gods” by The Amazing Devil

[atombonniebaby]

A little idea sprung to mind and I wrote a one shot!

Hope you enjoy (maybe you'll read this and you've heard this classic story us Scots like to spin 😅)

Also features a Mac headcanon and an original fallout themed pun for our boy to claim!

Content warning: Some mature themes and humour, so if your no over 18... Bolt 😘

(p.s I like this screenshot, so I recycled it 🤟)

A Scotsman never tells...

 "Like a Mole Rat, the size of a cat?" MacCready repeats with a frown, waving his hand through the smoky air. 

The Boss' hands dance around, telling his story in a way only he can, and damn it, if his eyes don't sparkle in the dim light of the Third Rail's VIP room, and MacCready reminded himself he oughtta never play cards with the man.

Mac slowly chuckles, boots up on the coffee table, cigarette smoldering between his fingers. "I call brahmincrap," he argues, furrowing his brows. "I mean, I've seen some wacko creatures in the Wastes, but no way in heck there are creatures out there that could have lasted this long with such sparse action in the sheets—I mean, if it weren't for Duncan, the MacCready line would be headin' for extinction—one chance a year?” he scoffs. "No way a species would survive with those odds!”

Nate just chuckles, sipping his Scotch. "Well, those wee buggers have the bonus eh decent dental, son," he smirks with a wink. "Soon as they find their darlin', they're set for life."

That stings a bit. "Watch it, old man, keep yappin', and you'll be feasting on Blamco and beans for the rest of your days—"

The bastard raises his hands defensively, smirking. "Alright, alright. Simmer doon—just dinny forget to snag yersel' a toothbrush next we're in Diamond City— or else it'll be you choking doon canned goods."

"Goddamn it, I brush my teeth! Twice a day!" he bristles, tongue proddin' the crevices in his mouth. "Ain't my fault some teeth never bothered to show."

Nate's eyes soften. "Aye?"

"Had Rickets as a kid...one of the perks of living in a cave, I s'pose," he shrugs. "Lucy managed to work out a treatment for the 'Littles,' by then, the damage had been done." He sighed, fingers picking at the frayed armrest. "I mean, I do alright now—cold weather can be tricky, old injuries hurt like heck, and I always gotta work hard to keep my knees from knocking," MacCready tried a laugh. "I'm mostly pissed because Lucy always reckoned I should've been taller."

"Ach, just makes it easier for ye tae hide in tight spaces, lad."

His lips were curling before he could even get the words out. "Dunno about that, boss. You of all people should know the difference a few inches can make."

Nate scoffs, doing his best to look offended, but there's almost a hint of pride in those eyes before he's shaking his head. "Damn—Rickets, Mac? No wonder you tire out quick, lad...Ye're needin' to cook more, eat some red meat, get some dairy in ye...and lose the hat and layers when ye can, get some sun on your skin...You'll be at more risk of it coming back."

He can't help but laugh. "What, so if I start chowing down on Brahmin and Radstag and soak up the rays, I'll morph into some tall, dark, handsome stranger?"

Nate grins, swirling his Scotch, "Take it easy, it's not a magic potion, Rob—actually, Haggis might be great for your diet," he chimes, changing the subject, like he always does when they get off track. 

"Haggis? What the heck are you on about now?" Mac chuckles, ashing his cigarette. 

The animated Scott explains further. The Haggis—or 'Haggi,' plural—those critters he'd been yammering about—have longer legs on one side of their 'dumpy' bodies—means they can only scoot around the hills in one direction. It’s a one-shot deal: find a mate or wait another year for some action. 

"Sounds like a crock of—" 

"Hold on," he interrupts, a smile on his lips. "In Scotland, it was tradition for families to hunt a haggis, fatten it up, and serve it on Rabbie Burns Night, wi' some neeps and tatties..."

"Rabbie, who now?" He raises an eyebrow. "The frick are 'neeps'?” he guessed 'tatties' was just his the idiot pronounced 'tatos.'

"Rabbie Burns," he chuckles. "Famous Scottish poet. You need to broaden your literary horizons, MacCready." His laughter fades as he continues, "And a 'neep' is a turnip."

MacCready opened his mouth, about to ask the boss to further define 'turnip,' before he was cut off.

"My sister El, she would break her heart every year. Took her forever to accept that we had to cook up her wee pal."

As much as he tries to believe—this tall tale about haggis sounds as believable as a three-headed Radstag. "I still don't buy it," he scoffs, trying to suppress his grin. "You're pulling my leg. If these things are real, I'll eat my hat."

The idiot just laughs, downing the last of his Scotch. "Would ye prefer a tell ye' it's a bunch eh mushed up innards, mixed wi oats and cooked in an animal's stomach?"

"I think I'm gonna be sick—”

His guts were turnin'. He took a deep breath to calm it. He's shaking his head, grinning despite himself. "Well, if it's anythin' like molerat, it'll just burrow a hole through my caps stash...I'll stick to Radstag, surprisingly not as dear..."

Nate let out a wavering groan as he tried to suppress a laugh. "You're a wee arse, lad. Dang sense eh humor eh yours is dire."

"Yeah-yeah, believe what you want...you're clearly at home with your delusions—they're entertaining, at least."

He takes a victory drag from his cigarette, leans back, and watches Nate's eyes dance as he delves into another tall tale about some sea monster.

Despite his skepticism, Nate's tales offer a rare glimpse into a world beyond the Wastes. So he listens, the taste of stale smoke on his tongue and a story spinning out before him.

He realizes this—this is as close a guy like him could get to what he always envisioned it would be like, to grow up with a father—lulled to sleep with a late-night tale about Wasteland beasts and heroic adventures.

The dad he couldn't wait to be.

Yay, found family 🥰

[the-type-a]

Wild Ride

I saw that one clip of that 70s show and just typed away until I felt satisfied.

Here, possibly the first ever implied Tyney fic revolving around Duncney and their secretly dating but not dating rendezvouses.

[naoa-ao3]

The Price of Escape

Methos had known about the Watchers for a very long time now, had even lived among them once and after a time had learned their ways and so usually he knew when one was around. He'd gotten good at giving them the slip over the years too and had for the most part done an adequate job of hiding himself.

The world was large and full of anonymity. At any point all he had to do was give it a few decades and people forgot his face and when other immortals however infrequently managed to find him he usually ended up slipping away and leaving town quietly.

The others had Watchers of their own and even after a beheading and quickening there was the chance that he had been found again. In those instances the best thing to do was to disappear into the vastness of the world.

He almost always managed it.

Then however came the fight he didn't. The inevitable fight. He had lived long enough to never doubt that it would come, just like he didn't doubt there would come a final battle from which he wouldn't walk away from.

He swung his sword against a man who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He'd felt the initial warning of another immortal near and then almost immediately been challenged.

The immortal's name was Cedwin and at the very least he seemed unaware of who he had chosen to face. He hadn't reacted when Methos had given a fake name. Barely even seemed to care but there were immortals like him. A handful who only wanted to head hunt and didn't care what head they hunted after.

He stared at the man from across the street and sized him up.

Wherever his Watcher was, he was keeping out of sight.

"Give it up," Cedwin sneered at him, blade raised and ready. "You young immortals aren't built for this. You're all weak."

Young immortals?

Cedwin had no idea who he was fighting and Methos was just fine with that.

He didn't respond and swung at the man, the evening light growing dim around them as they warmed to their fight.

"Oh, so you've got some fire." The man said.

Methos almost rolled his eyes. "You know a lot of immortals consider it. . ." He paused, letting the man know he was searching for the most insulting way to put it. "rather candy assed to go after new immortals."

The man snorted and swung, blade meeting blade and ringing through the dark street.

Methos was neutral. He could very well win this, he knew he could but he also could just as easily escape if the opportunity presented itself to him.

"You're not talking your way out of this one." Cedwin said, eyes narrowed as he stalked backwards a few paces and renewed his stance. "Mark my words."

Consider them marked.

Methos wasn't impressed. Too many men talked big without ever delivering anything that even remotely resembled backing it up. This one was no different so let him think he had the advantage and the years and knowledge. . . let him think he would win this.

They clashed thrice more, blades ringing again in the now mostly dark street.

Cedwin was a descent fighter but he hadn't been around as long as Methos had and he never would be.

The opportunity to flee wasn't presenting and he was making his peace with taking Cedwin's head now.

Just then however Cedwin struck a blow and stabbed at his abdomen, blade piercing flesh.

Methos grunted and stumbled back.

It would heal but it was a handicap at the moment and. . .

He played it up, stooping slightly. . . waiting to see what Cedwin would do in retaliation. If he would get cocky and arrogant.

No such luck.

He turned and was struck hard by a blow, taking a few more steps backwards.

Time to fight for real. Cedwin wasn't taking the bait, he was still in beat down mode and Methos wasn't going to risk playing around, not when the man opposite him seemed so thrilled to be taking a swing at him.

"Come on, no more in you?" Cedwin teased, expression twisted in childish glee. "You can give me a better fight than that."

Methos ignored his now partially healed wound and swung, this time driving Cedwin back a few paces. "Can I now?" He asked.

The glee was gone, instead he could see anger and the man spat. "Clearly so." He snarled, stepping back and circling him.

Methos was ready and waited, sword raised.

"You're playing games with me." The man said, drawing out the syllables. "You're a fool of you intend to hold back against me."

Yeah, probably but Methos had been hoping to escape the conclusion of this fight.

A sound came from behind them however and both men turned, seeing to Cedwin's surprise and Methos's horror a young man had tripped over a stack of wooden crates.

He was staring at them with wide, terrified eyes.

"Is he with you?" Cedwin asked, voice and eyes sharp as they sought Methos out.

He shook his head, eyes on the young man.

A Watcher.

A foolish Watcher and terribly, terribly young but then they all were to him now.

The young man looked between them, face pale and bent to pick the crates up but as soon as he moved Cedwin swung at Methos who fell backwards in his attempt to avoid the blow.

He hadn't been paying attention and while he was down recieved a sharp kick to the ribs from Cedwin who stamped down on his chest.

"You stay here." Cedwin said. "I'll be right back to deal with you."

The boot was gone and the Watcher was running but he was clumsy and scared and Cedwin caught up to him in less than a moment, legs longer and unencumbered by fear.

Methos saw the man pounce out of the corner of his eye and struggled to his feet as the Watcher's head was slammed into the earth.

He heard the young man scream.

"And what are you doing, sneaking around?" Cedwin snarled.

Methos was up, heart hammering as he retrieved his sword.

He had half a second to wonder if he should interfere, if he should strike while Cedwin was distracted but the sound of the young Watcher screaming met his ears, sending cold chills down his spin.

He retreated into the shadows and back down an alley, screams following and then stopping, sudden and silent.

Cedwin had killed the young man but it was too late to worry about it now.

He ran full tilt away from the other immortal and the dead Watcher.

The Watchers should have known better than to send one so young. They should have known better than to send this one after Cedwin. It was their fault he was dead now. Their fault he was silent.

He crossed dark streets and alleyways, escaping the bloodshed and the ringing of silent swords behind him.

He probably could have taken Cedwin but he'd lived too long to be certain. It wasn't worth the risk.

He stopped across town to breath, stopping on a bridge and looking behind him.

No one had followed.

Opportunity had presented itself after all at the expense of the young Watcher.

He shook his head, hands unclean and stomach slightly twisted.

Watchers at least chose what they did.

Immortals didn't.

Still, the boy had been young. It had probably been his first assignment. Stupid to have put him on a man like that. On a man like Cedwin.

He let his stomach settle, safe and away.

He regretted the boy. The boy had only been doing what he'd been trained to do but he was a cautionary tale for all Watchers now. The one who slipped up and got noticed, the one who got himself killed. He'd be recorded in their chronicles now. His name joining the ranks of a secret history at the cost of his life.

Methos would live to see another day, safely out of the line of sight and only sometimes at the expense of others.