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malereadermaniac · 9 months

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First move ~ Kit Connor x Male Reader

The two of you were in a talking stage, basically dancing on the line between friendly and flirting, so Kit makes the first move I'm quite proud of this ngl word count: 1k m!reader (no genitalia mentioned) / FDNI

The atmosphere was calm, it always was with your ginger, *very* close friend

But as calm and comforting as it may have been, tension always made the air feel thick

Romantic tension which was caused by the muscular arm around your waist and your head on his broad shoulders

The film may as well be background noise at this point

Your thoughts were full of ways you could subtly flirt with your very attractive friend who you defo didn't have a fat crush on

Thankfully, Kit was thinking along the same lines, ignoring the film completely and running ideas through his brain of how to somehow kiss you

Your brought out of your trance when Kit shifts slightly, making you aware of the uncomfortable position you've probably been keeping him in for the past half hour

"Oh shit sorry, Kit" you mumble as you sit up, facing the movie as it grabs your attention when some random line is blurted out

Kit remains quiet, regretting shifting in his spot

'Fucking dickhead. He moved now' Kit thinks, already somehow missing the electric touch you provided him with when you were resting on him

Kits slender, masculine fingers tighten around your waist, making up for the previously lost contact

God the atmosphere was suffocating, you wanted to just outright say "date me you dumbass" but you were too pussy to do something like that

As the movie went on, it grabbed your attention completely, so initially you failed to realise what Kit was doing

Which was intently staring at you

It didn't start as an intentional stare, Kit just initially went back to thinking if how to make the first move

His gaze shifting you your gorgeous face in the light of the TV due to his thoughts consisting of only you

His accidentally stared turned purposeful once the ginger remembered a TiKTok he saw

'Pov: when you watch a movie with a guy and notice him looking at you out of the corner of your eye'

He didn't get it at first, but Kit got immediate clarification after browsing the comments

'OMG AND YOU DONT WANNA TURN AROUND CAUSE THEYLL GO IN FIR A KISS ISTG MEN ARE ALL THE SAME.'

Now he knows that it's cliche, and that TikTok was making fun of men doing this

But the built ginger actually couldn't think of any other way of making a love on you

And trust me, he was desperate at this point to make a move on you

Kit has been crushing on you for as long as you had been on him, which was a long, long time

He couldn't allow this relationship(?) to result in only late night scenarios he would imagine to fall asleep

He was lost in his thoughts for a while, but all that time his head was turned to face you, his eyes fluttering between you lips and nose and eyes and chin and cheeks

Kit was broken out of his trance when you perked up - a result of you noticing Kit watching you instead of the movie

After cementing that Kit was indeed fully staring at you and you weren't imagining things, you start to feel blood rush to your cheeks, your posture straightening up perfectly

After 2 or 3 more minuets, you play it cool and turn to face your close, close friend

"You okay?" You ask him, tilting your head to the side with an inquisitive look

He fucking loved that look whenever you gave it him

Kit liked it when you looked confused or lost - which happened a lot, there's a reason he's the one who uses Google maps and not you

The ginger sits up from his laid back, man-spreading position, his hand still tight around your waist

He tugged on your waist, moving the two of you closer together

It was silent, still comfortable but the tension was fucking choking you to death

As Kit moved his smooth face closer to yours, you liked your lips nervously

You could feel his breathing on your face, warm air making you blush, hard

The ginger moved his soft yet large hand to your cheek, holding your head in his hand as his thumb stroked your cheek

Kit was fucking enamoured by you, you consumed his thoughts on the daily and this was him showing you

His eyes moved between your lips and looking deeply into your eyes, it was dark but you could see the passion and maybe even love in your friends eyes as he looked into yours

His long, veiny fingers brushed up through your hair and Kit gave you a look

One you understood perfectly - a look which turned you on when it was really the bare minimum

Kit asked if he could kiss you with that look, and after waiting for a year and a bit for this moment, you gave a short and sweet nod

Kit's lips are the next thing you know, and the only thing you know and can focus on for the next 3 and a half minuets

It was a soft kiss, his hand gently gripping your hair to guide you to the movement of his lips

He tried to push his tongue against your lips, asking for entrance, but when he felt your hand dart to his thigh and grip just a little tightly he knew to take that as a "not yet"

Kit could taste the chewing gum you had in moments ago, he always liked that about you - you always had gum in

He's bought the same gum as you, he's imagined this moment after putting a piece of it in his mouth - not admitting to himself that he wanted to 'taste' you

Once the two of you pulled away from each other, you breathlessly panted against Kit's face, that same spearmint smell making him feel tingly

The ginger smirked, looking fucking hot in the TV light

His grip tightened slightly around your waist and on your hair

"I like you ya know" he said, feigning charisma but god was it convincing

"Oh yeah? I'm not too convinced Kit-Kat, prove it to me some more?" You respond, looking up at Kit and smiling in a coy manner to tease the taller man

Fuck, there's another thing he liked about you to add to the list.

#gay #male reader #x male reader #fanfic #fluff #cute gay #heartstopper x reader #heartstopper #heartstopper x male reader #kit connor x male reader #kit connor x reader #kit connor #kit connor fluff #x male reader fluff #m reader #male reader insert #male reader imagine

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dilftaroooo · 10 months

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₊✩‧₊◜ ── SUKUNA MEETING YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME

★ tags: aged up characters + sukuna is still in yuji’s body + fem!reader + suggestive content + university au + implied smut + sukuna calls u a "broad" + and he sends u d3ath thr3ats + then he wants u :D + hints of true form!sukuna + reader is a sorcerer + and pretty daring.

Just a random thought but I feel like the first time Sukuna meets you would be sooo interesting:

You are an outlaw–a label the Higher-ups deemed you as (to which you agree because it makes you sound cooler). Getting you to follow through with missions is damn near impossible when you're seldom there at the university but you're everywhere else; parties, bars, get-togethers with childhood friends, at that restaurant everyone's been talking about. Everywhere but there.

There are times when you do make your appearance. Although rarely, you can't just completely drop your presence. As much as you want to Gojo forbids you from doing so. Not because he likes being strict with you but because he hates getting an earful from the Higher-ups. You have curses to fight, people to save, and your level as a First-Grade Sorceress is what circles you back to that hell hole. They need you.

But it's depressing, you will say. I mean, how could it not be when all that you're doing is fighting deformed curses with haunting moans and shrilling screams as you exorcise them one by one while getting soaked in blood? That doesn't even sound good written on paper.

You deal with it, though. What can you do? Not much. All you can do is complete (some of) your missions and spend time with friends as an outlet.

That is until you heard about the new student or vessel–Itadori Yuji.

'Fascination' is an understatement when you hear about the new freshmen walking straight through the doors of Jujutsu University. Oh, you're familiar with the story: A simpleton, an ancient demon's finger, a snack? Call it the 'fool of the century'.

Of course, you went back to see the boy, are you kidding? He's the talk of the town. This is the most engaged you've ever been since your first year here.

Upon first glance, you already had him in your grasp; his cheeks were warm with your palms as you squished the pliable fat and your eyes were big when laying on his doe-like ones.

"No fucking way," You whisper incredulously. "You're actually the dude who ate Sukuna's finger. And alive too! Are you insane or are you insane?" A laugh of disbelief leaves you and all the poor vessel can do is blush in obvious embarrassment. He guesses he's the former and the latter.

You're a bold one. Everyone can agree with that. Even the fresh blood who just arrived at the school can say that. To confirm that the rumors were true you gaze deeply into Yuji's eyes as if to see Sukuna sitting lavishly on his throne through his host's pupils, attempting to find the curse yourself.

"So where is the guy? Is he hiding or something? I don't see 'em-" Sukuna is...intrigued, to say the least. Does this broad have no shame? Don't you know what he is–know what he's done? You speak of him as if he's an animal from a childhood fable. Though your brain has gone to mush you still had a confidence that these weak humans lack (save from Gojo). You're daring, he'd give you that.

Before Yuji can remove your hands from his sore cheeks, it appears Sukuna already beat him to it by materializing a mouth at the side of his face and biting your thumb with tough fangs. You yelp with a 'shit!' in the midst of it. Now your thumb is bruised with a subtle teeth mark, faintly traced with blood (and nearly ruining your freshly coated polish).

But your worrisome state would be put aside when hearing a discomforting squelch come Yuji's way as a crimson eye emerges from the cut on his cheek. It adjusts to the lighting of the environment, glaring at everybody in the room before stopping on you–your dumbfounded face.

"How dare you speak of me so lowly like I'm one of you pathetic humans? Would you like for me to be the first one to behead you once I'm in control of this body?" His voice boomed at you and you know you would've pissed yourself if the infamous curse didn't look like a cyclops on some twenty-year-old's face.

Not wanting to start too much trouble, you repelled your snarky comment. Putting your left leg behind you, you slightly bend your right knee and clasp your hands over the fabric of your imaginary gown to give a gentle bow–since you are but a lowly peasant.

"Apologies, your Highness. May my body and mind rot for speaking so poorly of you. I hope you find it within your heart to forgive me of my ignorance and free me from my unbearable idiocracy!"

Ok, maybe that was a bit snarky.

The faces of the people in the room were written with 'shock' on them, and so was Sukuna's in his own domain.

From there, things escalate. Sukuna's infatuation for your character starts to increase whenever you're around, and whenever you're not. Your bold stupidity, your witty remarks, your unfazed nature–it was all starting to grow on him like mold on bathroom tiles. On top of that, his corruption starts to show whenever he dwells on how much of an attractive woman you are.

You have a bangable body with plump breasts and a bouncy ass–a trait he's not accustomed to from this society but isn't against. Your curves are in the right places and you take good care of yourself. Maintaining the warm fragrance of vanilla to seep out your pores whenever you embrace Yuji. He can't help but taste you when you do and he'll never forget the cute squeal you released from glossy lips upon feeling his wet tongue glide vertically on your neck.

"(Name)?! What's wrong?"

"Ugh, Sukuna, you pervert!" A mischievous sneer forms on miniature lips as the aforementioned demon glares knowingly at you.

"Have this brat lend me control over this body and I'll show you more than just a lick to the neck, doll." You upgraded from 'broad' to 'doll' in just a matter of weeks. It was a rapid transition (not that you're complaining, at least you're on his good side). You feel like it was last week when he threatened your life by saying he'd rip your limbs from your body and gorge on your flesh before using your bones as toothpicks (maybe because it was last week).

You plague his mind. In a way one would say to their lover in those sappy romance stories people read. Some people would call what Sukuna feels as such.

But Sukuna doesn't love you. That isn't his forte. He desires you–craves you, as well as any unhealthy forms of want:

Wants to have your tongue follow the path of the inky marks on his skin before kissing him deeply, wants to feel the burning heat flow from you as he latches a hand on swollen breasts, wants to hear those moans riddled with lust once he impales you with one of his throbbing members-

His mind swirls with infinite scenarios but for now, he will wait. Wait until the brat gives him power. And once he does, he'll know the first person he'll go looking for.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen #jjk smut #ryomen sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna #dilftaroooo

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hadersversion · 2 months

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king of my heart.

pairing: jj maybank x john b’s little sister! reader.

summary: y/n is described as "uptight" and known for being someone who plays it safe. but one night when her brother's best friend, jj maybank, challenges her to step outside her comfort zone, it leads to a night neither one will forget.

warning: 18+ minors dni!!!! smut, p in v unprotected, cursing, pet names (princess, sweetheart, honey), and praise kink

word count: 3.8 k

NOT PROOFREAD!!

i sat on the living room couch, reading a book, as my brother and his friends parade through the living room. they make their way to the kitchen looking for any scrap of alcohol left. they all say their quick greetings to me, walking right pass me. except for jj.

it was always jj that had something to say.

“hey princess.” he says, stopping in front of me. “whatcha up to?”

i sigh and roll my eyes. “what does it look like i’m doing?”

he throws his hands up in his defense and smiles. “hey, hey. no need to get feisty! just wanted to see what you were up to is all.”

this is what me and jj’s relationship was like. we bicker, we goof around or we tease each other. it’s been this way since john b brought jj into my life. did i have a big fat crush on him? yes. is it still alive to this day? also yes. as much as i wished to act upon it, i knew it was forbidden for so many reasons. number one, he’s john b’s bestest friend. which means, i am completely off limits.

or so i thought.

i put my book down and walk my way into the kitchen, hoisting myself onto the kitchen counter next to kiara. “so, what’s the plan for tonight?”

“we are heading to the boneyard tonight for drinks, you are staying home.” john b says with a smirk.

“no fair! what am i supposed to do all night by myself?” i ask.

“i have some ideas.” jj says, all of us whipping our heads towards him. john b and kiara shooting daggers into his head, pope trying not to laugh, and me with a blush painted across my face. “hey! it was a joke! c’mon, let the poor child come, jb.” jj says walking up to me, putting an arm around my shoulders.

i squint my eyes at him. “first of all, not a child. second, thank you but i can fight my own battles.” i turn to john b. “pretty please, with a cherry on top?” my puppy dog eyes go in full swing l, which i know john b can never say no to.

“fine! but don’t get too fucked up tonight, i don’t feel like dealing with your drunk ass all night.” he says, causing me to jump off the counter and hug him.

“thank you! thank you! thank you!” i squeeze him tight. “you will not regret this! i swear!”

little did i know, i would eat those words.

kiara and i walk onto the beach, the party is swinging. i see friends from school, neighbors, all the pogues i know and love. they all sport some sort of drink in their hand, joint in their mouth, and smile on their face. this is how i always want my life to be.

“is it all that it’s cut out to be?” i hear a familiar voice say. as i turn around, i see jj with two cups in his hand and a joint behind his ear. “i gotta say, this is probably the best party of the season.”

he hands me the cup and i take a sip, looking at kiara who’s giving us shifty eyes. “she’s loving it so far, right y/n?”

i look in between both of my friends and nod, sipping the drink. “oh yeah, definitely fulfilling all my expectations.”

silence falls over all of us and i see kiara smile like she has a plan. she’s setting me up. “oh shit, i see someone from work. i’ll catch up with y’all in a bit!” she says before walking away, turning her head back to me to wink.

jj digs his feet in the sand beneath and i sip my beer.

“so?” we both say in unison, causing us to laugh.

“no, you ca-” i start.

“you talk fir-” jj adds in, cutting me off. we both look at each other and smile. “you first.”

i smile and tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “i was just wondering how everything has been with you? i feel like we only ever see each other in passing.”

jj looks up at the sky and back down to me. “same old, same old. nothing to complain about. just living my best life. well, trying to. how about you?”

“now that schools out, i feel more free. i’ve been able to do things that i wanna do.” i say with a smile.

“oh yeah, like what?” jj asks.

“well,” i start. “reading, going to the beach, working, and a-” jj laughs, cutting me off. “w-what’s so funny?”

“you’re such a dork.” he says with a sip of his beer.

i narrow my eyes at him. “and why’s that?”

“reading? working? c’mon, it’s summer! let loose a bit, would ya? i feel like you’re so wound up that your body rejects fun. always got your head in a book or some shit.”

i stand there, staring at him. was he right? kind of. but it was still an asshole thing to say. “fuck you.”

he scoffs. “what’s that for? i’m just telling the truth, honey.”

the stupid pet names, god he just made my blood boil and my brain foggy with wild thoughts. “i know how to have fun. how to ‘let loose’ or whatever.” i say, pointing my finger at him.

“needa see it to believe it, kid.” he nudged my shoulder.

i turn and look at him slowly. “is that a challenge, maybank?”

“it’s only a challenge if you want it to be a challenge, routledge.” he winks at me.

i stare at him with a smirk. “you’re so on.” i quickly down my cup. “let’s go get more beer, shall we?”

the night flies by with the more drinks i down. i was never usually a big drinker, per say, but with jj’s cocky smile and tone replaying in my head, i knew i had to prove him wrong. after a few rounds of drinking games, i look at jj and flip him off. pride was written all over my face. he grins at me, tipping his cup towards me in kind of salute. but when i look to my brother, it’s a different story.

“are you seriously fucked up right now?” he asks, arms crossed, sarah following close behind him.

my body seemed unable to take this situation seriously leading me to laugh in his face. “so it’s okay when you do it, but when i do it? oh, i’m the bad guy.” i slur my words. “i’m having fun! isn’t that what you want?”i hear my voice raising and people looking at me, but i feel invincible. “jeez, john b, i let loose for one goddamn night!”

he towers over me. “pull it together.” he whispers. “we’re leaving.” i watch as john b storms out, sarah shooting me an apologetic look before following after him.

“i’m not going anywhere! fuck you!” my voice drags out the ‘you’ as i flip the air off. i watch as jj and john b talk before turning around to get another drink. but before i can get it, i’m being lifted in the air and put over someone’s shoulder. “hey!? what-what the fuck!?” i look around and recognize the blonde hair under the backwards baseball cap. “jj, i swear to god! put me down!” i hit his back with my fists.

“no can do, missy. i made this mess, i gotta clean it up. excuse us.” jj maneuvers us through the crowd, his hand firmly resting on my thighs as he holds me. when i realize he’s definitely not putting me down, i stop fighting and rest myself against his back. “i hate you, ya know? i really do.”

he lightly swats the back of my thigh, causing a slight groan to come out. a groan that was a bit pornographic for my liking. “y/n routledge, did you just moan?” he teases me as he carries me to the van.

my face turns a bright shade of crimson. “no i did not, shut up.” i attempt to hide myswlf in jj’s back, wanting to disappear from the world.

“ya know, i’ve pictured you having your fair share of kinks but i gotta say, spanking wasn’t on that list.” he jokes, making me hit his back again.

“i hate you, i hate you, i hate you.” i keep repeating.

“are you saying that so i’ll spank ya again or?” he laughs menacingly.

i hit his back. “you’re the worst.”

“all in a days work, princess.” he says as we finally get to the van.

the ride was short but felt like an eternity. i felt jj’s eyes burning into me as i sat across from him in the van. the second he put me down, an almost uncomfortable silence fell over us.

once we pulled up to our house, i quickly rushed inside and hid myself in my room. i heard kie and pope calling my name but i was too flustered to even look back. my brain felt like it was going a mile a minute of thoughts about jj and his stupid mouth and stupid hands that i so badly wanted all over my body. “god brain, shut up!” i whisper to myself, the drunkenness still apparent in my body. i throw myself on my bed and cover my head with my pillow, attempting to drift off to sleep.

jj laid on top of me, kissing down my exposed chest. “fuck, i need you so bad, y/n.” he murmurs as i moan. he finally gets to my lower stomach, breathing heavily. “i wanna taste you so bad, can i taste you, please?” he begs me.

“fuck, please, jj. please.” i say. he lowers himself more, kissing the inside of my thighs. he moves my underwear to the side and-

my body shoots up.

a dream.

it was just a dream. a stupid, fucking dream. i feel beads of sweat pouring down my face and a light headache, probably from the drinking. i’m uncomfortable, mainly because of the wild sex dream i just woke myself up from but also because i’m dying of thirst. i reach over for my water bottle next to my bed but it’s empty. “for fucks sake.” the alarm clock blinks 5:36. everyone should be asleep and by everyone, i specifically mean jj. so the coast should, hypothetically, be clear.

i get up and contemplate my next move but my body is screaming at me that we need water. with a sigh, i open my door and sneak into the kitchen. i walk past kie passed out on the pull out couch with pope on the floor. no sign of jj, which is good. i quickly refill my water bottle and try to tip toe my way back into my room but that’s when i hear the front door open.

“why are you up?” jj asks, throwing his lighter down on the table.

i freeze under his stare, unable to form a coherent sentence. my brain is flooded with the images from my dream, the feeling of his hand smacking my ass, and just the overall existence of jj maybank.

“i just needed some water.” i say quickly before trying to walk back to my room.

i feel him walk fastly behind me, lightly grabbing my arm. “not so fast, i wanted to talk to you. are you all good? you kinda ran inside once we got home. i’m sorry if i-”

i cut him off before he could finish his apology. “jj, please! don’t apologize.” i say awkwardly, not being able to even look at him. “i’m fine, i was just drunk and tired. i swear, i’m good.”

i try to walk away again but he stops me. “y/n, please. did i do something that made you uncomfortable? or upset? i’m sorry i said your uptight or whatever, it was just a joke.” he seems freaked out, talking super fast.

“jj, hey, i’m alright. everything is good, okay? it’s not anything you said…it’s just….” i look down at his hand that’s still holding my arm, it’s now or never.

“what? what is it, y/n?” he asks with a pleading look in his eyes.

without a second thought, i stand up on my tippy toes and connect our lips. the kiss, at first, was a little tense. but once it started, i felt confident and slipped my tongue into his mouth. it caught jj by surprise because once he pulled away, he looked at me in shock, lips swollen. “w-what was that for?”

“trying to ‘let loose’ because if i do recall, someone said that my body ‘rejects fun’.” my voice is laced in sarcasm as i shoot him a glare. “but if you are too uptight to do that then i guess i’ll go back to bed.” i say with a smirk, walking away.

“damn you, woman.” he says before pulling me back into his chest, connecting our lips once more. the kiss feels needy as his hands paw up my body. he starts on my waist and makes his way slowly up, stopping at my chest. “is this okay?” he says out of breathe.

“jj?” i ask.

“yeah?”

“don’t fucking stop.” we start to kiss again. i grab his shirt and pull him into my room quickly. we don’t break our lips apart once, navigating my door through touches. once we’re finally in, we make our way to my bed. he stops just before hitting my bed, leading me to push jj down on it. “is this too much?”

“honestly? it’s not enough.” he smiles as i make my way over to him. i stand in between his legs and he looks up at me with that cocky smile i wish to just slap off. “if i knew this was your idea of letting loose, i would’ve told you a long time ago.” he says, making me laugh. we look down at each other as his hands slowly tug the bottom of my shirt. “c-can i?”

“please.” i almost beg. he takes my shirt off and i feel his breathe hitch. he looks at me in my bra, his hand tracing circles on my exposed stomach. “w-what?”

“you’re just fucking incredible.” he says as his hands go up to the back of my bra and unhook it. i feel all the air leave my body as he does this. he’s not real, he can’t be. “let me know if you wanna stop.” i nod quickly as his hands go up and cup my breast, causing a moan to escape my lips. “there it is, that’s the sound i wanted to here.” he squeezes them, pinching one of my nipples. “god, it’s like music to my fucking ears.”

he begins to pepper kisses up my stomach and stops to connect his lip to my nipple. “jesus christ, jj.” my hand goes to his hair. “fuck.”

he looks up with a grin. “not too loud now, don’t wanna wake anyone up.” he looks back at the closed door. i nod and he reconnects his lips, going back and forth between my nipples. once he’s done, his kisses go up my neck and focus on one spot, making me bite my lip to quiet myself. he continues up to my jaw then kisses my lips again passionately. “wanna fuck you so bad.” he groans, pressing his hard duck against my exposed stomach.

“please, jj, please.” i feel like putty under his touch. “please fuck me.”

he pulls away and looks into my eyes. “are you sure?” he asks me for reassurance, which i give a nod to. “i-i just don’t want this to fuck things up between us…or your brother. god, i’m an awful friend.” he says pressing his forehead against mine. “i broke like the number one rule ever.”

“jj, look at me. i’ve wanted this for as long as i can remember. i always wanted you. who gives a fuck what john b says? i need you, jj, please.” i sound awfully needy but it feels like i’m not even in control of my body at this point. it feels like i’ve been possessed by a more confident and hornier version of myself. i let my hand go down his clothed body and stop right before his hard dick. i lightly trace it with my fingers and smile innocently at him, looking into his eyes that he’s rolling back. “please, jj.”

“fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, i swear.” he lays me back on the bed, throwing his shirt off quickly behind him. i try to work my shorts off but he beats me to it, sliding them down with my underwear. “if you want me to stop, just-”

“i know.” i smile at him sweetly. he nods and pulls his pants down, kicking them off to the side. his cock springs up and hits his stomach, already coated in precum. he climbs on top of me, his hip pressing into my center, causing me to moan. “fuck, jj.”

his hands travel down to my core, which has been aching for him all day. he slides his fingers into me and groans at the feeling. “jesus, you’re fucking soaked.” he says as he slides his fingers in and out of my hole.

“i had a dream about you.” i admit, quietly.

“w-what?” he stops and stares at me.

“i had a dream about you, right before i went out to get my water.” i say, squirming for any relief. “you were…you were going down on me. fuck-” he continues his fast pace in my soaking cunt.

“yeah?” he says with a sort of darkness in his eyes. i bite into his arm when he touches my clit, rubbing fast circles into it. “how it feel, princess?”

i nod, holding back my cries of pleasure. “f-felt so good, jj. you make me feel so good.”

he takes his fingers out of me and coats his cock in my slick, giving himself a few rubs before lining himself up with me. “r-ready?” he looks down at me.

“yes.” i barely get the word out before he sticks his cock inside of me, causing me to scratch down his back. “jesus fuck!” i exclaim, feeling my eyes roll back as he goes further and further in me. the pain stings, tears pricking my eyes.

“it’s okay, baby, i’ll go slow.” he says with a kiss to my cheek, wiping away the tears. his hips slowly start to move against me. once he’s fully in, he picks up his pace and brings his hand back down to my clit. he rubs it and looks at me. “how’s that feel?”

“g-good. fucking good.” i stutter out, my eyes closing to bask in the pleasure.

“yeah? look at you taking my cock so well, pretty girl. i knew you could do it.” he says out of breathe. “but, sweetheart, i need you to look at me while i fuck ya, okay? wanna see that pretty face when i make you cum.”

his words were so filthy yet so sweet, making me blush. i nod and force my eyes open, staring into his sparky blue eyes.

“there she is, my good girl.” his praise was enough to make me cum right then and there. i felt his movements get quicker and quicker as his cock slid in and out of me. “jesus, i don’t know how long i’m gonna last. you-you got me riled up, honey.” he bites his lip looking at me. i bite his arm again, trying to quiet my moans.

his fingers continue to work on my clit. i felt the pressure in my stomach building up and about to release. “jay….fuck jj. i-i’m gonna….i’m gonna cum.” i cry out in a whisper.

“go ahead baby, cum on my cock. i got ya.” my hands reached his back again scratching it up, i bite lip mip as i come undone on jj. tears leave my eyes as i ride out my high, a few curses leaving my mouth as well.

i look up at jj, who’s panting and staring down at my body. “fuck, i’m gonna cum. w-where do ya…where should i cum?”

“cum inside me, jj.” his eyes almost pop out of his head. “i’m on the pill, i trust ya. cum inside me, baby, please.” i flash him my puppy dog eyes.

he brings his face down closer to me, hiding it in the crook of my neck as he cums. “fuck, you are such a good girl.” i hear him whisper as he bites down onto my shoulder to hide his moan. his cock twitches inside of me. he goes slower and slower until he completely stops, collapsing on top of me. we lay there for a minute, tangled up with each other and panting for breath. he slowly takes himself out of me, a sharp breathe leaving my mouth as he does so. he grabs a towel off of the ground and cleans us both up. he’s gentle with it, bringing the towel slowly down my thighs and lightly rubbing my core with the cloth. he throws the towel on the ground and lays down next to me, we both look up at the ceiling, unable to speak.

“so?” we both say in unison, making us laugh.

i turn on my side to look at him. “you first this time.”

he turns to look at me, pushing a strand of hair sticking against my sweaty forehead. “you okay? you need anything?” i shake my head no and smile at him, god he was a dream. “t-thank you for that…it was…”

i laugh. “did you just thank me for having sex with you? and you say i’m the dork.”

he blushes and runs a hand down his face. “shut up, you know what i mean. i just…i’ve been wanting this for awhile. and not just sex i mean…like all of you. god, i sound so dumb.” he looks up in embarrassment.

“no you don’t, stop that. look at me.” he turns to me and i run a hand across his face. “i have to. you’re all i’ve like ever wanted, as stupid as it sounds. jj, you mean the world to me.”

he kisses my forehead lightly and pulls me close. “i feel the exact same way.”

we lay like and talk about everything and nothing at the same time until the sun comes up. my eyes are fluttering shut as i feel him start to get up. “mmm where ya going?” i try to hold him closer.

“need to leave before everyone wakes up.” i pout at him and he brings his hands to my face and kisses me gently. “believe me, this ain’t the last you’ll be seeing of me, sweetheart. i’m not letting you go that easy.”

he gets up and puts his clothes on, kissing me once more. “jj?” i break the kiss.

“what is it, honey?” he asks, looking me in the eyes.

“i won the challenge.” i say with a laugh, causing him to smile.

“shut up.” he flips me off with a smirk as he leaves my room quietly.

i lay back in my bed with a satisfied grin. so much for being uptight now, huh?

A/N: i just started obx so if y’all want some more fics pls request them!

#obx #outer banks #obx fanfiction #rudy pankow #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #obx₊˚ෆ #kaila’s fics₊˚ෆ #jj maybank ₊˚ෆ

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hedgehog-moss · 2 years

Text

I made a little snow donkey :)

It turned out to be more of a challenge than the majestic snow llama I made two winters ago! The snow was ‘dry’ and crumbly so I had to keep him quite small and basically neckless due to structural integrity issues (his head fell off twice). To make up for it I tried to make the texture of his mane and circumference of his belly equal to the model’s.

Unfortunately the most important part (the ears) kept crumbling down when I made them out of snow, so I had to pluck two icicles from the windowsill and they don’t look very donkeylike. I’ve been told my sculpture looks like “a fat boar with unicorn horns” but I think either way he is a very charming creature who just needs to be given a chance to win your heart

Pandolf was allowed near the uniboarkey on the strict condition that he not sniff or kiss or lick its fragile head, and then he immediately did.

Caught in the act!! Of giving Snow Pirlouit an illegal nose kiss!

Actual Pirlouit was not terribly pleased about this short and rotund creature being called “Snow Pirlouit”

Your twin!!

Pirlouit circled the snow donkey slowly, like an art appraiser hired by a private collector, but then he—just ate his snow brother’s fir branch tail. As soon as he saw it. “The first thing to do with a work of art is to look for edible parts”—art appreciation 101 by Professor Pirlouit.

(When I kissed his nose after walking him back to his pasture, his breath smelled like a car air freshener.)

Snow Pirlouit is going to look a bit less like you without his tail :(

I gave Snow Pirlouit a new tail, and he now spends his days benevolently watching over his land

—with Pandolf watching over him (this dog will include just about any creature in his herd. If you accept nose kisses you pass his entrance exam)

#crawling along

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rhinestonz · 8 months

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☆ CAN WE GO HOME ? ☆

Honestly you barely understood that you were in this position. What did you do ? Well it wasn’t what you did, it was what others did. Or maybe , according to Gojo it was your fault for being so damn hot.

Bully!Satosugu x poc!reader. Double penetration. Dirty talk. Degradation. Overstim. Humiliation (?). Recording.

You’d gotten used to these two tagging along with you anywhere. Just to make sure you weren’t acknowledging anyone other than them. You went to the mall today, your favorite place on earth maybe. At Least they played some purpose, holding your abundance of bags. You knew how they rolled, terrorizing anyone to even look your way, belittling your feelings towards anyone other than them. You knew how they rolled… and they definitely knew how you did.

A fucking attention whore, that’s what you were. I mean why would you wear pink miniskirts that barely covered anything. Or low cut tops ,and over cropped crop tops. Why would you wear anything that showed off that gorgeous body of yours to anyone other than them. It pissed them off , the way you shamelessly flirted with the store clerks as though they weren’t there. The way you bent over in front of everyone to check the price tag on some shoes. How much more of a slut could you be?

You plopped down in the back of the car after checking your makeup in your compact mirror. Geto and Gojo packing your things in the truck before getting in the front seats. “ so you wanna fucking explain yourself? “ geto cursed , scowling at you through the rear view mirror. You popped your lips together , spreading your coating of pink gloss. “ Whatever do you mean ?” You exaggerated faux innocence. You saw the two tense up at your words. You were used to pissing them off, you loved to do so to get back at them fir how they tormented you in daily life. All it would amount to would be getting fucked when you got home… yeah not this time.

“ C-cmon, m’ sorry , just let me go home~' ' you pleaded. Your cheek rested against the leather of the seat. Geto’s nose runs along your pink folds. Face buried in your cunt from behind. His tongue overstimulating you beyond belief. Gojo sat in front of you. Dick slapping against your cheeks as a way to get your eyes to look into his phone camera. “Cmon~ smile“ he said, motioning his fingers to push his cheeks up. This fucking bastard. “ You wanna look pretty for the guys I show this to right ?“. Tears fell from your stinging eyes, “ n-no please ~ don’t… show anyone~” you managed to choke out between moans as Geto’s tongue explored every grove of your pussy. Your eyes rolled at the camera , tongue lolling out of your mouth releasing strings if drool. “ aww why not baby ? We might have to show it to the next loser you flirt with” Gojo teased, hands grabbing a fistful of your hair.

Your ass stained red from Satoru’s relentless thrusts. Your eyes puffy , tears falling as they fell onto Geto’s cock. Maybe you did go too far today , he’d usually wipe them as you cried but not this time. He looked down on you with a smile as he pushed your head down, making your nose touch his v-line. “ awww~ too much baby?” he coed at you. You heard a low laugh from Satoru, “You think the store clerk coulda fucked tears outta ya?” He asked, slapping your ass , watching the fat if it ripple. Your whines resounded through the car as well as small sobs when Satoru rubbed his finger along your clit. You cried, shaking your head no on Geto’s cock. “oh no but you must have thought he was better! , wouldn’t have acted like we don’t fuck your brains out every night infront if him then , slut” Satoru sassed as he watched you writhe around as he placed frequent harsh slaps to your clit .

Just when you thought it was too much. It got worse. Your body was flipped around. Back flush against Geto. His hands around your wrist, holding your arms back. “ Are we not enough, baby ? We can give you more you know” he feigned concern. You let out a strained moan as you felt his cock ease into your cunt. But then you relaxed why he was holding you back. Your eyes widened as Satoru spread your legs, rough hands gripping your thighs apart. “ Wait,wait no~ no ~ Toru , Sugu-!'' your plea was cut by a shrill moan as your cunt was stretched to the brim. Two cocks filling up the small pink hole. Your tears ran from your eyes like droplets of rain on windows. “Fuckkkkk~ that's enough for ya baby~” Gojo hissed out as he bottomed out. Your mouth hung open , strained moans spilling from your mouth. Your face burned in embarrassment as people walked by the windows. You knew the windows were tinted but Gosh did it make your face sting to know that a thin sheet of tint was stopping people from seeing how absolutely fucked you were. Two cocks showing in you at once. Geto kissing your cervix as Gojo pulled back for another harsh thrust. They work so fucking well together.

“ Fucking slut~ you thought we’d wait till we got home to put you in your place? ” Geto spat at you. His breath heavy as he thrusted up into you. You did think they’d wait, maybe that’s why you weren’t prepared. Or maybe it was the fact that your cunt was painfully full. Stretched out to fit both of their lengths. Tears fell from your eyes as you came. Squirting everywhere. Almost disgusted as some of the liquid landed on your face. Even more embarrassed as Gojo licked some of the fluid off of his face. “F-fuc, you guys, cmon can we go home~?” you whimpered out, you’d been insisting this the whole time. Suddenly becoming aware that people could hear your pathetic moans and the sound of them smashing into you. Your arms strained against Geto’s grip. reaching to turn on the stereo to drown out your cries , however you couldn’t pull away from him.” Nah let em’ hear you baby ~!” he teased, chuckling as your body began to convulse. Your tummy caving in as your legs shook violently. Feet arching in the air. A scream ripped from your glossed lips that pierced the sound of their pounding.

Your body went limp, chest heaving up and down. A small whine left you as Satoru’s dick pushed deeper against your cervix as he put his weight on you. Arms wrapping around you and Geto. The car filled with the sounds of your collective pants. “Fuckk..” you huffed out, “ .. can we go home now?” You sighed. They chuckled as they kissed you. “ Yeah , maybe the store clerk will take you home,” Geto sassed. Somehow you felt a lil guilty now.“ M’ sorrryyyy, I don’t like him ,only want you guys~' ' You pouted. “ yeah we know '' they yawned , pulling away to cleft themselves before driving off.

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zyettemoon1800 · 1 year

Note

Hi! Can you possibly write a NSFW alphabet fir hobie brown?

Aftercare

He is so loving after y'all are done. He will go run you both a bath while he gets you both something to eat. However, if you don't want to move or eat anything, then he will just get a towel and clean you off, and make you drink a cup of water before going to bed. If you are also a Spiderman/ spider woman he will make some lame excuse to Miguel as to why yall you can't leave the bed.

Body part

On him, he loves his hands and how they grip your plush stomach or thighs or how he can make you messy in under ten minutes.

Cum

Though he loves you and wants to spend the rest of his life with you, he does not want any kids as of right now and he is not a fan of wrapping it up so he will most likely just pull out and cum on your stomach, face, ass, or back. However, if you are on the pill and you don't mind, he will happily cum in you.

Dirty Secret

I can see Hobie as an exhibitionist. He wouldn't mind taking you underneath a table, on top of a skyscraper, or in an alleyway. However, the one place that he wants to do it more than ever is in Miguel's office. Just the thought of Miguel catching yall makes him ready to explode.

Experience

He is not a man-whore however he has had his fair share of bedroom guests.

Favourite Position

Any position that has you on top of him. He hates the idea that women should only be a bottom and will fight anyone when he says that having women on top is even better. He also likes it when you sit on his face. Weight is not a thing he cares about and he wouldn't mind suffocating beneath a fat pussy and some thick thighs.

Goofy

He is not an overly goofy person when you two are having sex. He might crack a few especially if it's your first time and he is just trying to lighten the mood and get you to relax.

Hair

He does not shave and is a firm believer that you should not do it either. The hair is there for a reason so let it be. Now if you wanna trim it or make your bush into some cool shapes, he is all on board. Depending on what shape you are trying to do, he might just do it with you so yall can match.

Intimacy

It is not rare for him to be seen hanging off of you in some way or another. It's not that is jealous or anything, he just loves being by you.

Jack off

If you are not around and he really needs to rub one off then he will jack off. Always if you are not in the mood, then he will take care of himself

Kinks

Slight Daddy Dom kink

Slight Breeding kink

BDSM ( can go both ways)

Cum Play

Pet Play ( on your part)

Food Kink

Location

He usually will just go into your or his room because he knows that it is the safest option. However, he will also do it on top of a random skyscraper or somewhere in the Spider HQ.

Motivation

Just sit on his lap or bend down to pick up something and he is already to through you on the nearest surface.

He is not sharing you with anyone and he will not do anything that you are uncomfortable with or anything too risky

Oral

He is much more into giving than receiving when it comes to orals. He prefers to be buried in you more than anything. However, he wouldn't mind if you gave him a blowjob as a way to get him up in the morning.

Pace

His pace can change from a flip of a coin. Somedays wants to go hard and fast to get rid of any stress that he has, while other times he is soft and sensual.

Quickies

Yes, especially when he should be out on a mission or on patrol

Risk

This man will fuck you in an alleyway by a very busy street and won't stop even if he hears people getting close to yall

Stamina

On a good day he could go maybe three times with ten-minute breaks in between and a round could last for about 20-30 minutes.

Toys

He doesn't mind you using toys on him or on yourself. He is a fan of vibrators and handcuffs.

Unfair

If you are being a brat and just giving him a hard time for no reason then he will edge you for an hour or two and no amount of crying or pleading will make him stop.

Volume

He has always been a vocal person so of course that would extend to the bedroom. He will be in your ear moaning and groaning while calling you a good girl or a slut all depends on what you fancy.

Wildcard

He is known for just throwing you over his shoulder he wants your attention. It doesn't matter who you are talking to.

X-ray

He is about 7 inches soft and 8.5 inches hard. He also has the Jacob's ladder piercing.

Yearning

You really don't have to do much to get him excited, however, he is a sucker for some short shorts or a body con dress. Seeing your curves and rolls just spill over just does something to him.

Zzz…

He doesn't go to sleep directly. He will make sure you are all good and he may play with his guitar for an hour before cuddling up with you.

#hobie brown #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #hobie x reader #chubby reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown x chubby!reader

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mclalan · 24 days

Text

A small estate map of Northeast Wolderness, a wapentake within the County of Humbershire.

Pentascarth Peaks

River Wyn

Bridburn Orchard

Bridburn Abbey

Firley Village

Grinholm Mill

Skunlington Town

Skunlington Castle

Pentascarth Peaks

Pentascarth Peaks is an ancient evergreen woodland that once dominated Wolderness, but centuries of agricultural expansion have driven it back to the five hilltop peaks. Some say that Wyrms slumber within each of the five peaks, while others more accurately claim that the peaks mark the boundary of the Wolderness wapentake.

Both Bridburn Abbey and Skunlington Minster claim rights to the forest, leading to obvious land disputes. But while mortals argue over who owns what, the woods remain home to forgotten, ancient goddesses— though the monastics seem to agree on this being just superstition.

River Wyn

Leading down from Pentascarth Peaks is the River Wyn, cutting through Humbershire on its journey east to the Lyre Estuary. The Wyn boasts giant crabs with some allegedly growing to a formidable fifteen feet. But if you're tempted to go crabbing, beware of the water spirit Catharine Wart, who drags unsuspecting victims beneath the Wyn's currents.

Bidburn Orchard

Nestled within an oxbow is Bridburn Abbey's apple orchard. The monks began with the principle of ora et labora, or 'pray and labour,' but if it also produces apples so delicious and plentiful that kings from across the seas are willing to pay a pretty sum for them, then who are the Valynites to say no? Whether it's Wyn's blessed waters or the lay brothers' tireless work, the orchard certainly hasn't hindered the abbey's rise to fame and fortune. Just don’t get caught scrumping from it, or the monks will have your hand off.

Bridburn Abbey

Bridburn Abbey houses the Valynite Order, which seems more preoccupied with power and business than strictly worship. With extensive landholdings and significant influence in the region, the abbey functions as the principal rural manor of Wolderness. As a result, it has become the largest and wealthiest abbey in all of Humbershire. But beyond just collecting tithes from the surrounding peasants, the monks are skilled in land management, particularly in assarting the land of trees and marshes.

Firley Village

Firley Village, named after the fir trees that once grew in the area, is an agricultural settlement situated on the glebe of Bridburn Abbey.

A large plot of common land lies to the west of the village, while smaller plots are located south on the opposite bank of the River Wyn. While the villagers grow a rotation of barley and vegetables, they're best known for they're prized oxblood-coloured sheep, whose wool appears black but shines red when catching the light. You'd think the village would grow fat from the wealth of this highly sought-after wool, but as the village falls under the manorial holding of the abbey, it is the abbey that reaps the wealth.

Grinholm Mill

Grinholm Mill, a growing hamlet owned by the Rolleston family, offers a much more reasonable miller's toll compared to the one up by Bridburn Abbey. They've become quite popular amongst the peasants of Wolderness, (well at least by miller standards), as well as wealthy. Although they pay their tithe to the abbey like everyone else on this side of the river, they are perceived to have undermined the abbey’s milling soke monopoly—much to the abbey displeasure.

Skunlington Town

Skunlington is a prominent market town, both wealthy and influential, with a history that stretches back to the First Age. It's located behind a small range of hills that shield it from harsh weather and provides a natural defence, with an added Royal Castle on the highest peak for good measure.

The castle is about the only Royal influence in the town however, as Skunlington holds charters that grant it a degree of autonomy from the Crown. The town is governed by a council of Merchant Guild Aldermen in coalition with the Provost of Skunlington Minster. But despite this apparent independence, the town is practically in the pocket of the Archbishop of Humberthorpe, the capital city of Humbershire.

South of Bridburn Abbey, across the River Wyn, lies the land controlled by Skunlington Minster’s estate (marked in purple on the map). The large tract of empty land between Skunlington and Bridburn Abbey is an ongoing contention, as both estates claim it for their own. The bickering has gone on so long that the land has turned fallow. But the biggest source of contention is how Skunlington controls the river toll for use of its docks, with particularly extortionate prices for Bridburn Abbey. Rumour has it that Bridburn Abbey might just build a whole new town of its own, south of Skunlington, just to avoid paying this toll!

Skunlington Castle was strategically built in the First Age atop the highest hill on Pen-y-Skun for its vantage point overlooking the whole of North Wolderness Dale—crucial in the Woodsy War against the pagans. However, these days it’s the Crown's administrative center for Wolderness, run by the Under-Sheriff. Here, secular law is enforced, tasks such as collecting taxes for the Crown, raising levies, chopping off heads, that sort of thing. There’s a lot of overlap with the ecclesiastical courts however, sometimes resulting in collaboration and other times in clashes.

Skunlington Castle

But it’s not all work. The castle also serves as the hub for the gentry afterall, and they're not exactly know for their hard work. So the castle hosts games, jousts, fairs, that sort of thing, and a bed for when the King comes to visit.

#mclalan #art #illustration #autonymus

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theredofoctober · 2 months

Text

MANNA- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: SAUSAGE

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, Daddy kink, cannibalism mentions, force feeding, nausea

Read after the cut

---

Will and Hannibal stay up late into the wind brushed night, communing on the merits of art, of cities far they yearn to see and to absorb into themselves like scent into a rag.

“And her?” asks Hannibal; this, kneeling behind a door, you hear, a question as to the enigma of fate.

“She’d come with us,” Will answers. “Wouldn’t she?”

For a beat Hannibal entertains a silence sopped with threat. In spite of his forgiveness you have, through strident disruption of his party, trespassed upon good taste; he has no reason to think you would not humiliate him in less private spaces, may even consider a further blunder cause to discommunicate you from the family.

“If she is well enough, she’ll accompany us on all our ventures,” he says, at last. “It would be a pity if she couldn’t enjoy the food and with it boundless new experiences.”

You wilt against the doorframe in relief. No matter how many countless promises as to your permanence in their company are made you’ll never trust their word.

“Will she always be like she is now?” asks Will.

“A little girl? Not always. In phases, and behind closed doors, she'll revert to that state, however. Does fatherhood weary you already, Will?”

Again you stiffen.

Will says, “The taste hasn’t soured just yet.”

“You find that the flavour doesn’t quite compliment the other features of the menu, then," Hannibal suggests.

“I’m developing my palate. She’s still bitter.”

“But not without occasional sweetness.”

“Could do with a little more.”

Hannibal produces a quiet laugh.

“You surprise me, Will. In spite of her stubbornness to admit it, I find that it’s clear she cares for you. Considering the circumstances and your previous hostility I’m satisfied with her progress in that regard. In others less so.”

“She asked you to stop sleeping with Alana,” Will says, flippantly. “That’s progress. And the other day she asked me if you love her.”

Your mouth wraps around a knuckle to restrain a cry of angered embarrassment.

“She craves desire even from those she loathes,” says Hannibal, with a dismissive air. “I must renew my attempts to woo her. Only then will she begin to love.”

As quietly as you’re able you rise from the floor and take the stairs on slippered feet, fleeing the horror that is to be romanced by a murderer, sex surely the alembic with which he’ll distil your loyalty to his reign.

The next day begins with another breakfast, carried out with the performatory illusion that nothing whatever has happened at all between you three, or beyond.

You scrutinise your egg and sausage, chewing at your inner lip until your fore teeth unbutton blood from within.

What is this Hannibal’s served to you? A morsel from a previous kill, minced and made into three cylinders for your morning plate— this you believe, suddenly and entirely.

What would it mean to bury the flesh of those other girls in the earth of you, to grow fat off their death, to thrive like a maggot in this warm house as they degrade? Their breasts, their flanks served up in spiced pieces like any dish— you’d come to crave them, you fear, think deliciously of their flavour even as your soul writhed within the filth and heathen animal you'd be.

For if Lecter is the Copycat he’s surely served human meat to you before. The Chesapeake Ripper had once murdered a man named Mortem Briggs, had hung him from a fir tree, his limbs spread through the pines; Briggs’ left breast had been taken, may well have been frozen and unthawed later to convert into any feast you've partaken of in captivity.

To have eaten it unknowingly— by the skin of your teeth you can cling to the fact that it was forced on you. But to gnaw on human flesh aware like a witch of Homeric origin would stir your brains insensible until you'd be as your keepers would have you: a cannibal's love, and a cannibal yourself, complicit in their malign.

Ridiculously you think of the calories, how rich in fat such meat would be. Like pork, you’d heard, somewhere, although Hannibal has the skill to disguise it as other animals.

Why does he kill? For the pleasure alone, or some other purpose? To test Will Graham, perhaps, or merely to discard the unworthy from his world; he is cruel and aesthetically driven enough.

If you—gauche, unpleasant, ignorant to the names of painters and intellects, verging on uninterested in such facts—cannot learn to accept the beast he is will he reverse his word and put you to his table?

A flare of dread dispatches your hunger, and you sway in your chair, groaning under your breath.

The men talk, oblivious to your battle.

“The cooling periods between the Lover’s kills are getting shorter,” says Will, wiping butter from his lip. “On average they last around three months, maybe one month minimum. They're starting to fall. There’s a direct correlation between those figures and our investigation. The Lover's following us as closely as we’re watching him.”

“Yes,” says Hannibal. “He’s frustrated by the notion that you and Jack may thwart his grand romance before it’s truly begun.”

“There’s certainly an anger in his recent activity. Sloppiness. He sees us as an obstacle, but he still doesn’t think we’ll close in before he achieves his life’s work.”

You notice a humour in Hannibal’s otherwise neutral expression, a creasing about the eye only one as close as a lover would see.

“You disagree with the killer's belief,” he comments.

Will shrugs.

“If he made a mistake this time then he’ll do it again. He left a partial boot print in Amy’s hallway. He was wearing Timberland boots that night; forensics picked that up right away. He wears a size 10: the typical American male. That fits the profile we have of him— average height and weight, maybe a little muscle from handiwork.

“He’s in his mid to late fifties, estimated from the age of his victims, which have risen every year since he started killing so that his targets continue to resemble his doll. He could be any working class guy in America."

“His mediocrity is as much a mask as the most elaborate disguise," says Hannibal. "His aberrant heart will reveal him."

You feel that both men are holding back from one another, a shift from the previous night.

“He’s somebody who isn’t as smart as he thinks he is,” says Will. “There was grass and dirt in the tread of his sole. We analysed it. The soil came from three separate locations. While that could have been picked up from general wear, the remote nature of those places suggests he’s been keeping his victims in different hiding spots each cycle to avoid detection.

“We’ve got officers looking into small buildings in those areas. There could be evidence that would close the case.”

“And other unknown victims,” says Hannibal.

Will nods.

“The Lover chooses troubled women. High school dropouts, runways, previous mental health patients. He might have abducted any number of Jane Does that just haven’t been reported missing.”

That they hold this conversation without a glance in your direction makes you feel less than invisible, a non-entity only summoned when the need for your existence arises. The space for a third party to cohabit with Will and Hannibal is slender, and you cannot fathom that you are so wanted, and yet as seemingly incorporeal as the air.

“Amy was a bad choice for the Lover,” says Will. “She was on her guard when she opened the door to him that night, almost as if she was anticipating some sort of negative attention. If Freddie Lounds is telling the truth and Amy did reach out over an article then she may have expected a visit. She just couldn’t have known who exactly it would come from.

“Amy’s tall, stronger than she looks. When the Lover struck she pulled him down with her into the house, bumping into a table in the hallway and smashing a lamp. From the damage it’s obvious that she nearly overpowered him before he knocked her unconscious.

“From there the Lover got her out of the house and into the back of a truck. The neighbours report having seen one in the area, though we don’t have a model, and nobody saw the driver’s face.

“The Lover was injured, under stress. Turned off. He dumped Amy in the shack where he planned to carry out her rape and murder sometime later that week, only that didn’t go to plan, either. He was interrupted.”

“The Person from Porlock,” says Hannibal, enigmatically. “An innocent wanderer, or an accomplice?”

“The Lover works alone,” says Will, bluntly. “He doesn’t want romantic competition. If he did accept any kind of help it would be like members of some fringe group tipping each other off out of goodwill.”

You watch, grimly fascinated as Hannibal collects dirtied cutlery and plates without the merest suggestion of alarm.

“You suspect the Copycat,” he says.

Rather than answer directly Will looks in your direction.

“Your patient needs your assistance, Dr Lecter,” he says, gesturing to the sausage you’re attempting to sneak under a napkin.

Hannibal turns, his face brightening with open interest.

“Breakfast is always a hurdle for you,” he says. “What is it this time, Little One?”

“I don’t want to eat meat anymore,” you say, at a frayed, childish pitch. “It’s cruel. I... care about animals.”

Will’s eyes—tools of blue mercury—analyse the climate of your answer.

Hannibal says, “While I admire your interest in vegetarianism, I can’t allow you to restrict your eating any longer. We must return to the old rules, I’m afraid. Will and I agree that's best.”

“I can’t eat this,” you insist. “I’ll throw up. I swear I will. I’ll make a mess.”

At this Hannibal appears to lose something of his sympathy, his stare gaining an iron edge.

Will says, “Couldn’t she have double helpings of everything else to make up for it?”

“It was you that suggested I should tighten her reigns, Will,” says Hannibal, coolly. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

With a taut patience he leans across the table to cut your sausages into fractions. You haven’t even touched them with your cutlery, not wanting the juice of fattening mortality to taint the remainder of your meal.

“She’s been through a lot lately,” says Will. “Is this really the hill you want to die on?”

“It’s a sensible hill. The food she will eat lessens by the day. If we remove such a significant category from her diet she’ll merely find excuses to deplete it further. She’ll suffer from a lack of nutrients that supplements will not fully replace.”

It is not an argument, exactly, but you sense a challenge between them, nevertheless, the testing of loyalties.

“A lot of people are vegan and vegetarian and they’re just fine,” you pipe up, nervously. “Tell him, Will.”

“I’m not clued-in on the statistics,” he says, holding up his hands. “But if this is what you really want, maybe we can figure something out further down the line.”

“Of course,” says Hannibal, with a near imperceptible relief. “I’m not unwilling to compromise. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve served a vegetarian at my table. But at the present you’ll eat what I deign acceptable for you. I hope that you can understand, my darling.”

You stare at him, astonished that he can be so cruel and still, with cloying sympathy, claim to care and to adore you. In a book long ago you’d read of diseases passed from human flesh to its eaters that drove them mad; you’d think him such a sufferer were he not so controlled, nor so sane.

“You know why I can’t eat it,” you whisper. “You know. Dad, please.”

“Know what, Little One?” asks Hannibal, casually.

He's quite aware that you don’t dare speak before his friend of such secrets as even he has not admitted aloud.

Trapped by your fear of Hannibal’s wrath should you do so, you only mutter, “You hunt your own meat. I don’t want something you killed.”

Will says your name sharply, and you realise you’ve made a mistake in directing anything even remotely resembling an insult in Hannibal’s direction. Yet in the younger man’s tone there is also an interest in the undercurrent of secrecy at this table of whose scent he’s caught.

“What would it matter who slaughtered the meat?” Will asks. “You’ve never taken an interest before. Why now?”

You glance down at the tablecloth in helpless silence

“It’s as I feared,” says Hannibal; so much for wooing, you think. “She’s set against me.”

“I’m not!” you snap. “If he was the butcher I’d feel just the same way.”

This said with a glance at Will, who folds his arms, disapproving.

“This is starting to feel a little personal. I can’t let you act out like this. You know that, right?”

“I’m not acting out!"

“You’re being argumentative,” says Hannibal. “If you cannot eat then you must be assisted to do so. Will, if you’d be so kind...”

You watch a look of incredulous realisation pass across Will’s face.

“You want me to feed her?”

“Yes. I’ve done it myself many times. Your turn to carry out the role, I think.”

Will turns you a sidelong glance.

“You don’t need me to do that, do you?”

There’s no declining the meal; Hannibal will force the point till you are full, no matter the method. Yet if Will holds the fork then it is at least his choice for you to gain weight from the unknown dead, another imposition of many.

So you nod, an infant not yet canny enough to brook the use of any adult tongue.

Will laughs, a guise for his discomfort.

“That isn’t the answer I expected from you.”

“It’s a good thing that she’s asked for help,” says Hannibal, kissing the top of your head as he walks by to take the empty plates to be washed. “We mustn’t discourage her growth.”

Picking up your fork, Will holds it awkwardly aloft. In his grey suit and checkered shirt he appears very much a young father with the care of a pouting stepchild foisted upon him. The bustling inconvenience of the early hour, the brimming stormcloud of the Lover's case: Will has neither the time nor interest in the role to truly engage.

Still, you are wounded by the sense of casual rejection: he wouldn't pause his world for the worship of you as he would for Hannibal.

“Fine,” Will says. “Open up.”

As he tips the fork you imagine a gobbet of minced labia rolling upon your tongue, a strip of shoulder meat, a plush cut of cheek.

Your hand goes up to your greasy lips at once.

“No spitting,” says Will, and the firmness of his voice grounds you in your nausea. “I’m supposed to be meeting Jack in half an hour. Can’t exactly do that with your breakfast all over me.”

If Will is offering up a person to you then surely he does not know it, or he would not seat himself so readily to his own meal. Yet by now he is wilfully ignorant of the reality before him, a little boy covering his eyes against the atrocities he finds a friend capable of.

Suddenly you feel imperious, advanced, cleverer than Will in that you’re unclouded by the love of Dr Lecter.

You eat almost to spite him, then, so that when he learns what he has done he might grovel for your forgiveness. That he will think of this morning, of the Chesapeake Ripper’s trail of death, and shudder that he had gorged so hungrily on those for whom he sought justice.

“You know I can’t do this every time, right?” asks Will, misinterpreting your obedience. “This might be more fun for you, but you’ve got to learn to do this on your own.”

“Yeah,” you say, sweetly, having done away with the last lump of ambiguous sausage. “I know, Daddy.”

You kneel up on your seat and lean in to kiss him, but Will turns his head away, likely thinking of the pleasure you’d had him taste in your last caress.

“Mean,” you say, but he only scoffs before he, too, leaves the table.

In the afternoon Will returns to the house from his work unexpectedly, white as a cave etching, his balance precarious.

“Go to bed,” says Hannibal firmly as he puts a hand to Will’s brow to take his temperature. “You’re pushing yourself too hard with this case. You need rest.”

Thinking of the night of Will’s seizure— the night Hannibal suggested that food may well be its trigger—you gain a new suspicion. You wait an hour before slipping into Will’s room, taking advantage of your older captor writing a new piece of music in absorbed concentration to do so.

You look at the sleeping young man, so pampered and petted by the doctor as to have been tucked in under luxurious sheets, and feel a white wing of jealousy beat across your vision.

Yanking back the coverlet you climb into bed and crawl atop Will to shake him rudely awake, too intent on the confrontation to look to the dangers of it.

His eyes start open, and one of his large hands wraps around your mouth to stop you screaming out at the look in them, a blue-bladed killing rage.

“Again?” he says, lowering his arm. “What did I tell you? You shouldn’t wake me up like that. The dreams I’ve been having, the blackouts, the seizures— it’s not safe. You could get hurt.”

You feel the thud of Will’s crazed heart beneath you, like the pendulum of the devil’s clock at work.

“I want to talk to you,” you say. “You’ll always take Hannibal’s side over mine, even when you know he’s just being petty for the fun of it. Why? You’ll do anything he says. If he decided to kill me and serve me up to one of his stupid party guests I swear you’d help him!”

Will screws his eyes shut and opens them again, attempting to rally his cognition from the peat of slumber.

“You think Hannibal’s the Copycat,” he says, softly. “So this is what’s been going on with you.”

You pause, aware that you must be careful what you divulge from here. Certainly nothing Hannibal has suggested to you in confidence is safe.

“Don’t you think he could be the Copycat?” you ask. “It makes sense, right?”

Will sits up slightly against his pillows, his hands going to your hips almost by instinct to prevent you from slipping.

“Careful,” he says. “You know that I need proof for an allegation like that.”

“But if you doubt him even a little bit then why are you here?” you cry, in exasperation. “Why are you with him? How can you say you give a damn about the murders? What’s with you?”

You punch at Will’s shoulder for emphasis, and he looks at your balled hand with such amazement that he doesn’t immediately respond, merely tolerating the blow.

“You’re obsessed with each other,” you hiss. “Why don’t you both just kill me, eat me like he made us eat Savannah—”

“Stop it.”

There is authority in Will’s voice, now, cold confidence you’ve seen only in flashes, and always before some shameless feat of violence upon you. You cease fighting at once, wary of provoking him into lashing you as he would have done in your early days together.

“You’re going to let me work and navigate this situation in my own time without throwing a tantrum,” says Will, through his teeth. “And if you still think I’d stand by and let Hannibal kill you then I don’t know what to say to you. You belong to both of us. You’re mine, too, Little One.”

You don’t let yourself fold to that statement, give in to butterflies and flattery in the romantic language of possession.

“I know what I see,” you say. “The only reason you don’t want to believe Hannibal’s the Copycat is because you’d be hurt that he didn’t let you in on all his dirty little secrets right away. And if he’s caught then you’ll be all alone with your thoughts.”

Will’s hand returns to your lips again, pressing down until you’re forced to huff through your nose for breath.

“How is it you think you have everything about me all figured out?” says Will. “You’re no psychiatrist. You just throw guesswork at the wall to see which theory sticks. Aren’t you afraid of what'll happen if one does?”

With a hysterical jolt you see that you comprehend this man the least of your fathers, cannot when he knows not from one minute to the next who he is or what he truly wants.

The agent of order set on catching a murderer, the diabolical, petulant abuser, as aroused by your pain as by your whimpering ecstasy— are they at civil war, or are they the same entity in co-existing halves?

Chilled, you attempt to clamber away again only for Will to haul you back to him, settling your thighs on either side of his stirring groin.

“Um,” you say, in bashful affront. “What are you doing? I didn’t come here so that you could—"

"Don't give me that," says Will. "You woke me up by climbing on top of me. Seems like a pointed decision."

You gulp at the verge of him under you, at the olfactory concoction of masculinity, hot skin, hair oil, sick breath, and cologne.

"I wanted to strangle you, Dad,” you say. “Don't make this something it's not."

Will smirks, a harsh, pitying look.

"What do you gain from lying to yourself? You flirt with me at any opportunity you get. And when I touch you I know exactly what you feel. Don’t forget what I heard out of your mouth when Hannibal asked you about me. You said I was handsome.”

You recall that moment, your breathy little ‘yes’, and wriggle in humiliation.

“I was high.”

“But you meant it,” says Will. “Still mean it now.”

He’s merely trying to grasp his dignity back, you tell yourself, wearing his ability to empathise like the garb of some sneering god. Yet as he moves you against the quill of his instinct he brushes up the skirt of your dress to unveil miles of cold-pebbled skin, the deltoid of silk at your labia made black by your response to him.

“It helps you to say no,” he says— his voice is husky, coaxing now, almost kind. “To fight back the way you never could, all those years ago. So let me help you.”

You shake your head.

"Why not?"

You want to say, "it's wrong" but both of you are aware of that. Only Will strains at the possibility that this indulgence will save you, and half-heartedly, at that.

You say, "Let me go downstairs already."

Will touches a finger to your philtrum.

"Shh. Do you want Dr Lecter to come up here and join us?"

"Do you?" you return.

In the mid dark Will smiles nastily.

"While I appreciate my time with Hannibal, solo dining has its own appeal. And I’m in the mood for that."

He kisses you, a display of dominance flailing amidst uncertainty, and you find him more pitiable than ever, groping at you as though expecting you to return his passion. For it is his will—his, and Hannibal’s—for you to convert to the religion of violence.

You let Will touch you only so that you must tolerate him alone, barricading yourself against the whimpers that agitate your throat as he uses the wet of your betrayer cunt to please you.

You behold his face in its innocence, like a doe run from a thicket. His hunter's eyes.

He thrills and ignites you, invokes an obsessive desire to glimpse how deeply his attraction to evil goes. There is a mine of it in Will, the plenty that has him wrapping your underwear about his fingers to tighten the seam at your clitoris, that gathers the diamond strand of slick and smears it across your sulking tongue.

He kisses you to share in it, holding your rudely shoving hands from him by the wrists.

"How do you like it?" he says, with a crafty grin. "You ought to think twice before you act like such a wiseass."

Will’s left hand opens the damp buttonhole of his boxers and brings out his cock, stroking it as you wrestle in obstinate controversion to what he means to demonstrate.

Your blood is up, as frenzied by this struggle as by your dreams of death.

He's talking to you, touching you not as a father, nor as the cajoled colleague of Dr Lecter, but only as himself, and that frightens you, for without the layers of acting and the unsaid you are alone here with a man.

The Man lifts you at the waist, and as his erection intrudes that unwilling territory you squeak, and are silenced by his palm upon your mouth once more.

Guilty, guilty, the chant of a jury as Will grinds you atop him. Though he lies under you he is far from lazy, his right hand quick between your bodies.

You bat at his wrist. He shakes his head.

"You deny yourself every good thing life throws your way," he says. "And I know that this feels good. I've had enough practice to know how you look—how you behave—when it does. I can hear it."

Wetness in the curtained gloom, the sound of teeth in a tangerine.

You can't bear that he holds your attraction to him so easily over your head, the knowledge that had you met him elsewhere you would have hoped he'd fuck you like this.

With hands bunched in Will’s t-shirt you come, his hand quieting your whines as he holds you down to the root of his cock.

He's fed you in two ways, now; how could you ever say he does not care for you? This question you see in his cynical eyes, in the cycle of his pelvis into you. This conjugal act is just one brick in the cathedral of a burgeoning fascination between you.

In that moment you truly believe that Hannibal's blade in you would contort the older man into something like Will's enemy. That you cannot die with him beside you is both shield and weapon, not some curse you must bemoan.

“I need you,” you say, aloud, and Will chuckles huskily, the sound washing like foam through your loins.

"I know,” says Will, and he kisses you as he comes.

You kiss him back, and he cradles you against him, the anger gone out of you both like a wind dropped at sea.

“If Hannibal is the Copycat and the Ripper,” says Will, at length, “haven’t you thought about what would happen to you if he’s caught?”

“You’d take me home,” you say. “Right?”

Will shakes his head.

“I’d never send you back there while Leland Frost still has access to you.”

You wonder why Will hasn’t reported him and guess that he’s waiting on your word.

“But you’d keep me here with Hannibal,” you say.

“And with me.”

Sitting up again, you say, “Take me to your house, then. I’ll live with you and all your dogs. I’ll take care of them while you’re at work. I’ll do whatever you want. I could be your girlfriend for real.”

Will gives a short exhale.

“That can’t happen.”

Stung, you ask, “Is it because you don’t think I’m adult enough? Because you’re ashamed of me?”

“No,” says Will. “Of course not.”

“Then it’s because you can’t do it without him,” you snipe, getting down from the bed. “Or you just don’t want to do it without him. You want this to work so badly that not even the idea of him being a cannibal really bothers you.”

“That’s enough,” says Will, turning away. “Go to your room. I’m tired, One.”

You linger to stare at him, disturbed by your own revelations.

While Will might be your strongest chance of escape, he’s apprentice to the lord of this household, and can be influenced to follow Hannibal into his own Nyx. You must devise a second plan, one without any exterior aid required to run.

Open doors are there for you yet: you must believe this or perish, a star put out like a cigar, light gone into dust.

“Okay, Daddy,” you say, at last. “I’ll go. But you really should go get a brain scan or something. What’s making you sick isn’t just gonna go away. And watch what you eat, too. It’s making you worse.”

You dart from the room, shutting the door upon Will’s bewildered beginning of a question.

#tw rape #tw noncon #tw nausea #tw force feeding #hannibal fic #hannibal lecter x reader #yandere hannibal lecter #yandere will graham #will graham x reader #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #tw daddy kink

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