#i do love drawing skin cause I just keep layering more colors until I like it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nypmphetsbastard · 3 years

Text

They Both Die in the End

Genre: angst...just angst

Pairings: Eren Yeager x reader

Timeline: season 4 Eren

Summary: SPOILER ALERT! They both die in the end.

Warnings: Smut, angst, major character death, emotional, season 4 warnings do not continue if you’re not caught up with the anime.

A/N: this story is also posted on AO3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

If you could go back to it all, would you? Before Marley, before the war, before the titan shifters, before the fall of Shiganshina, before everything — would you go back? Go back to living peacefully inside the walls of Maria watching eh our next door neighbor Eren and his two other friends run around, too nervous to ask yet watching their games of tag together. Go back to the day the youngest Yeager son noticed you from afar and invited you to play with them. Go back to those days.

Those final days of peace. If you could go back to it all, would you? Before Marley, before the war, before the titan shifters, before the fall of Shiganshina, before everything — would you go back? Go back to living peacefully inside the walls of Maria watching eh our next door neighbor Eren and his two other friends run around, too nervous to ask yet watching their games of tag together. Go back to the day the youngest Yeager son noticed you from afar and invited you to play with them. Go back to those days.

Before it all fell.

Maybe. Maybe you would go back. But you couldn't. No matter how much prayed and wish upon a star, it would never come to pass. You were stuck. You were all stuck. But in a moment like this, you didn't mind being stuck here.

Stuck in his arms, under his broad shoulders and wrapped in your own personal layer of protection. His soft eyelashes laid gently along to top of his cheeks, the dark brown locks you loved so dearly had now grown a little past his chin and his once short and skinny frame had grown significantly since he turned 18.

You tenderly tucked his long hair behind his ear, watching as his eyelashes fluttered open at the lightest touch. It was sad, honestly, how light of a sleeper he'd become. Anyone who knew Eren only now would've laughed at a time he was a heavy sleeper, it was sad, how quickly he had to adapt to constant alert. No longer enjoying his moments of peace and quiet.

A brown broke you out of your thoughts as Eren licked his lips and drubbed the tiredness out of his eyes before sighed and looking down at the person in his arms.

Eren couldn't help but remember the words Jean had once said to him when they were just 15. "How you managed to find someone like that, I will never know. But don't screw it up, because you never know if the next time you'll see them will be on the street or in a body bag." He sighed, reaching his hand over to your cheek, gently caressing the skin.

He knew the two of you would never have a moment like this ever again, that his future will always result in complete anarchy and chaos but that wouldn't stop him from basking in the light that was you.

"Good morning." You giggled, this gentle touch sending shivers up your spine.

"Morning." He whispered back. "We have to get up soon. Captain Levi says we have more Marleyan's coming from the port today."

You sighed and pushed your head closer into his chest, "That's boring...and morbid. I just wanna spend time with you." You whined, Eren chuckled sadly.

"I know...but that doesn't mean we can't make it count now." Eren mumbled, leaning into your neck. You hummed and relaxed in his arms as he began to suck the skin on your neck.

"No hickeys. You know what Levi said about them." You breathed out trying to keep your composure, Eren pulled away with a shit eating grin.

"Whoops." you rolled your eyes at him and let your lips meet in a hungry kiss.

Wandering hands roaming each other's bodies wasn't uncommon between you whenever you got the chance, but no matter how much he touched you, you couldn't help but flinch and gasp into his mouth as he cupped your clothed mound.

"Eren," you pause to take a deep breathe as another moan threatens to escape your reddened lips, "I thought you said we had somewhere to be." You joked lightly.

"Fuck that." He cursed, looking up at you with his dark piercing gaze.

'If these are what Eldian devils look like, I wouldn't mind being a sinner' you thought to yourself.

If Eren Yeager was anything, oblivious was not it. He was always attentive with everything he did. But when the lights dimmed and your legs spread for him, Eren Yeager never missed a spot. Twisting and turning, rubbing and spitting, he'd do anything and everything to hear you let out those breathy moans of his name.

Eren Yeager never had such a good ring to it.

It never took a lot of to have you screaming for him. Eren had mapped out every crevice of your body that sent you shivers, every infinity 8 that had your legs shaking since the first night. He always knew what would have you screaming out in blissful pleasure. Whether it be in pain or pleasure.

"Eren, ah," your shaky hands reach for the scarred back of his past. Nails scratching the surface and painting the once pale canvas a burning red color.

The burning of your thighs was nothing compared to the knot in your stomach that he wouldn't let snap. He massaged your thighs as they sat above his shoulders, finally lifting his head to hear your desperate whines to finish. Lips and chin coated in wetness, he grinned and went right back to work. Your mercy pleas finally reached his ears as one of his hand reached up to grab yours, his other stimulating your most sensitive area to get the exact reaction he wanted.

One that left his shirt and his sheets drenched in you. Words didn't seem to form on your tongue yet he understand everything you needed. Planting a light kiss on your clit, he gently and carefully closed your legs, bringing them back down to earth and laying down on your side.

Once your breathing returned back to normal all you could mutter was a simple, "wow." Eren smirked cockily and grabbed your cheeks, pulling you into a much softer yet passionate kiss.

"I know." not even trying to make a smart comment, you closed your eyes, preparing for your high to end and the uncomfortable feeling of stickiness that filled the sheets, your thigh and your boyfriend's face.

"You have a little something there" you pointed out, pointing to your chin.

"Mhm, really? You made a mess too, want me to clean it up?" A yes caught in your throat as you realized what he was planning and clasped your hand onto his wrist.

"Don't. We still have somewhere to be."

That smile. That damned smile that always caused you nothing but trouble. Trouble in more ways than one.

Mikasa and Armin being the first to arrive on time was never a surprise, however coming after Sasha and Connie was borderline suspicious as those two were never on time...to anything. Connie snickered at the sight of you rushing over to the bench with a piece of bread stuck in your mouth as you tried tucking your shirt into your pants.

You sat down between to Mikasa and Jean, trying your best to not sound like you had ran over here in a hurry, which you had. It was in your best interest to just act like you'd been there the whole time, especially with how meticulous Captain Levi was with scheduling and all that. So you struck up a conversation.

"Hey Mikasa, lovely weather we're having." You spoke up, Mikasa looked up from where her eyes were down casted on her lap and gave you a small smile with a hint of confusion.

"Yes, it is lovely...I guess." She mumbled as her voice trailed off.

You leaned on your arms to look next to Mikasa, "Good morning, Armin." You greeted the blonde.

"Oh, good morning. Have you been there this whole time?" Armin questioned, his answer only causing tithe two snickering twins to laugh even harder.

"No Armin, she was out having a much better morning." Connie mocked, sending Sasha into a laughing fest with a whole piece of bread still lodged in her mouth. Armin look confused but shrugged it off and went back to drawing in his sketch book, a stress reliving habit he'd picked up after that day at the sea.

You kicked Connie in the shins and smiled at his hiss of pain and dramatic leg holding, Sasha joining in on your laughs until you kicked her too. She whined and rubbed her shin.

"Hey! I didn't even say anything!" She protested and you laughed at her, not noticing Mikasa's sharp gaze on you.

"Where's Eren?" Mikasa asked

"Commander Hange asked him to stay behind to prep beforehand. Why?"

"So I can ask him to leave your fun in the bedroom, respectfully." She smirked, pointing at the hickey on your neck. Your eyes widened at Mikasa's amused expression and tried to cover the deep red and purple stain with your hand. Jean snickered from next to you, using the magazine he very clearly wasn't using to cover up his puffed cheeks preventing him from laughing.

Everyone's favorite duo however, did not get the memo as they bursted out into a fit of laughter. Their pale cheeks turning bright pink as they leaned on each other for support, nearly throwing the other off the bench. You groaned and dropped your head onto the hardwood table, drowning in embarrassment.

The scouts had always loved to tease you and Eren at any given chance. Connie and Sasha being especially guilty of this, but even Mikasa loved to poke and prod at the two of you, making jokes of her own.

Mikasa has been your best friend since childhood, her love for both you and Eren only doubled in size when the two of you officially got together when you were 15. She was there for you after every failed mission, after every argument, or even when you just needed girl talk. Even if she never seemed the most emotionally capable person, Mikasa Ackerman was never wrong. She's somebody everybody could rely on, whether that he for protection or just as a friend, she was always there.

Always there to buy the constantly hungry Sasha snacks as you and many other scouts arrived to Marley in disguise. While Sasha basked at the taste of new foods, your eyes roamed the crowded city, trying your best not to push anyone. Then, your eyes landed on a familiar head of hair that stood at the edge of the port, looking off into the distance.

"Hey..." you spoke up before gently sliding your hand on his shoulder, a habit you picked up on because of how guarded Eren constantly is. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I think so." He mumbled, turning his body to face you directly and placing his hands on your shoulders, "Are you?" He questioned

"Mhm. This person dressed up as a clown mistook Captain Levi for a child and I think he actually might've traumatized the man." You joked, laughing at the past occurrence.

Although he didn't laugh, Eren smiled at your happiness, mentally taking a picture of this moment to hold onto later on.

"Oi! What do you think you're doing?" Levi interrogated, snatching the arm of a young boy who stood beside a clueless Sasha. You and Eren made your way through the commotion of people spewing out hateful words at the boy as they tried to figure out a brutal punishment for the child.

Sasha laughed nervously and lied for him, claiming he was just her younger sibling messing around, narrowly avoiding having the child nearly killed for his crime. The boy apologized profusely and thanked them for saving him from impending doom before running off with his younger brother. You smiled softly at the child as he ran off before noticing your boyfriend looking at him with longing and sadness.

"Eren? Hey, what's wrong?" You asked softly, reached over to place your hand on his cheek. He blinked and shook his head.

"Nothing, let's go."

Those next days, that very child had offered you and the scouts a place to rest your heads. Providing you all food, drinks and even alcohol which only ended in disaster and Sasha hunched over a bucket puking her guts out.

In your arms that night laid a tired Eren, his head on your chest listening to your heartbeat and feeling your chest rise up and down, mentally making sure you continued to do that. And as you slept soundly, the sharp burning sensation in his nose became too much to bear, Eren's tears silently fell.

They fell for the memories, or rather the premonition of his future. His cursed future.

They fell for the child he once was. A little boy who wanted nothing more than to prove himself and to his parents that he could go beyond, that he could be free in the world he was born into. A little boy who laughed and loved with his parents, his friends, and the little girl next door who he swore to his mother he'd marry. An innocent little boy.

They fell for his friends. The only people he couldn't live without no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Not just you, Mikasa and Armin — but Connie, Sasha, Jean, Historia and even Levi and Hange. He lived everyday of his life for the sake of them, for them to live their lives as freely as possible, for them to live the life he would never be able to.

For the days like before as they all worked on building the port. Sweaty, tired and burning arms as they all hauled ass into the half built train tracks and finally got a moment to relax.

"Make a base in Marley and infiltrate it, huh?"

"Hange sure has a plan for everything. I'll be able to show down on some real Marleyan cuisine." Sasha replied, her mind already lost a sea of new foods but you smiled at her enthusiasm

"Yeah? What should I bring? It would stink to get the runs."

"Stomach medicine, toothbrush, a taste of home..." Sasha listed off

"Did you even hear Hange's plan?" Mikasa questioned

"If the world knows that we want peace, maybe something will change." Armin suggested hopefully.

"Armin, you know I love the way you think but...not everyone thinks like you. Even the Marleyans we have here are still hot headed over us just existing in the same space as them, they don't seem like very peaceful people in my opinion." You spoke up, Armin sighed and nodded as a small moment a silence waved over you all.

"If only we had more time. I've got just over five years left. We're gonna have to decide who inherits my Titan soon." Eren brought up, a new point but not one that hadn't crossed all your minds.

"I will" Mikasa attempted to step up

"Not you. We still don't know what the Ackermanns are. And won't it hurt any plans with Hizuru if you become a Titan? No, for so many reasons." Jean dismissed, Mikasa looked down sadly, feeling as though there was nothing she could do to help.

"Then who will?" She snapped, you placed you hand over hers and gave her heartwarming smile before leaning your head on her shoulder in a means to calm her down.

"Me. First of all, I'm way smarter than Eren. Instead of a suicidal maniac, you'll have a gifted leader who shows good judgement in all situations. In other words, me." He concluded in his bashful statements. "I hate getting an Eren hand-me-down but who better than me?"

"Someone that amazing we don't wanna lose in 13 years, moron." Connie cursed, you snickered and nodded.

"He's right, Jean. All those things you just said about yourself are true, which is why we need you one hundred percent human and intact for over 13 years. You're too good of a leader to lose now." you explained, Jean groaned in annoyance.

"You're aiming to be regiment leader. I'll inherit Eren's Titan. It works out good, right?"

"Connie..." Eren faltered, slightly surprised at the high and dangerous position Connie was willing to take.

"That's not good at all. You're an idiot." Sasha replied

"Eh?"

"Don't 'eh' me. We can't leave such an important role up to an idiot."

"Eh?" Connie continued, still shocked.

"Doggone it...I'll inherit it. I've got combat experience...I'm someone you can trust...By process of elimination, it's gotta be me." Sasha divulged, you lifted your head from Mikasa's shoulder and raised your hand.

"Um hello? I'm still here." You said sarcastically,

"I know but Eren's your boyfriend and I find it pretty morbid if you were forced to eat your lover for the sake of humanity so, by default, it has to be me!"

"You guys..." Eren mumbled, going unnoticed as Sasha continued her rambling.

"I dun wanna. I sure dun wanna though." Sasha trembled, the mere thought of everything Titan shifters had to go through repeating in her head on loop.

"Wait, huh? Isn't that weird?" Connie spoke up again

"What?"

"Well you know...you said an idiot's not fit for the role." Sasha raised an eyebrow at him, still confused, "You're more of an idiot than I am, so you're contradicting yourself." As Connie finished his explanation, the two exchanged Huh's and watched each other dramatically.

"Moral of the story, you're both idiots." You stood up from the hard box, "I'll inherit the Titan. Who knows maybe I'll be the first super sexy female attack Titan. Like Annie." You thought out loud

"You think Annie's Titan is hot?" Jean asked incredulously, you put one finger up and shushed him, not wanting to discuss the topic further.

"No. I don't want any of you to inherit it." Eren stated, "And especially not you." He looked at you.

"Oh come on, once you die I'll have nothing to live for. Besides, I don't wanna be old anyway." You shrugged nonchalantly, Eren shook his head.

"No! You guys are more important to me. More than anyone else. So, I want you to have long lives and..." he looked at you again, "when I die...I want you to move on—"

You cut him off with a scoff and grabbed your makeshift seat, dropping it next to his. "No, that's bullshit. I won't accept that." You protested

"So, what? You're just gonna wallow about me the rest of your life without even trying to do anything better?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I'm gonna do." Eren scoffed at your answer and shook his head.

"I'm serious." He snapped

"So am I! I don't wanna start a family some random person I know I'll never love. I don't want a home if it's not with you, Eren." you objected, "So, if worse comes to worst, i'll inherit your Titan." Eren sighed, already knowing he would never change your mind once it was made up.

"Bleh, keep the cute sappy stuff in the bedroom guys." Jean complained, lightening up the mood in the cart as everyone chucked lightly.

"Best get used to it, Kirstein." You swung your arm over Eren's shoulder, "I'm not leaving this Earth without my man." You said proudly, the boy blushing at your words.

My man. That's all he ever wanted to be to you. Yours. For now and forever, he didn't care if he had to trample anyone and everyone in his path, Eren would do anything to keep that title in your heart.

There was a point in time once when he thought of growing a family with you. Even though he felt he wouldn't be the best father in the world, he couldn't help but grasp at any straws that led to a happy ending with you. Maybe in another life, he always thought to himself.

Another life where you were all free. Where all of you could be real teenagers, go to a normal high school, have normal life and live a full life. Where Ymir, Bertolt, Erwin and everybody else didn't have to die for the sake of everyone else. Where all of you could get a full nights sleep without constantly having to watch your back.

Yeah...another life sounded like bliss.

But another life is not what you had, what you had now was war.

A war none of you were prepared for. None except Eren, who proudly and happily pounded into the face of the war hammer Titan, not leaving any room for full transformations. Even as he became outnumbered with all odds against him, he was granted his final words in which he uttered a simple.

"It's now or never, Mikasa."

Unleashing all scouts in hiding as they rose up, dropping thunder spears into the Marleyan soldiers and aiding Eren in his fight. Bodies and bombs dropped left and right as Mikasa crouched down next to her best friend.

"Eren...Do you have any idea what you've done? You killed civilians, you killed children, too. You've done things that can't be undone." She pleaded with him, trying to see even a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes and yet there was none to be found.

"She's mad at you...you know that?" She tried once more, finally getting a hint of a reaction out of Eren. That reaction lasted only a millisecond and the hurt in his eyes was once again replaced with a look of dullness and lackluster of his usual bright blue ones.

He looked away, "She can be mad all she wants, it makes no difference to me. The fight isn't over." Mikasa gasped at the sight of the war hammer she'd just took down moments before standing right back up on its feet. And a constant pitter patter hit the back of her head at Eren's words.

How quickly he shoved aside your feelings and put his own before it, a rare thing Eren had never done before. But for now, your job in all this was to stay alive.

You assisted in as much combat as possible before making your way back into the airship along with the rest of the remaining scouts. Being the first to arrive on the ship meant biting your nails in anxiety as you waiting for everyone else to reach it. Armin reached down for the boy he once thought to be his best friend, pulling him up into the ship.

Just like the old days, Levi Ackerman had a couple kicks in store for Eren, not hesitating to remind him of how much he changed. Even bringing up his past in the underground and the dirty look Eren had grown into, never expecting to see it on the boy he gave up everything for. As much as it much as it hurt to see Eren being kicked around like a rag doll, you wouldn't get in the middle, especially knowing what he'd just done.

The lives he ended, the irreparable damage he had caused, it all gave Levi more than enough reason to toss him around. You, on the other hand, didn't make an effort to speak to him.

And for Eren, that was okay. If it would change anything, Eren would make you hate him for the rest of your life. If it would change anything, Eren could've saved Sasha. If it could change anything, Eren would restart everything and never invite you to play tag with him. He would steer clear from you at all costs. He would let you marry some townsman, have a couple kids and grow old inside the walls, never to be a witness of all the atrocities outside of them.

If Eren can change anything, he will make sure you stay alive. No matter who or what gets in his way, whether he has to tear down every wall or speak to Ymir Fritz her damn self, Eren Yeager will save you from death.

Eren Yeager will not leave this godforsaken earth without his woman.

#eren yeager #eren aot #eren smut #snk eren #eren jeager x reader #mikasa layouts #snk season 4 #attack on titan #levi ackerman #aot x reader #zeke yeager #aot final season #aot headcanons #aot manga

301 notes · View notes

twdbegins · 3 years

Text

Morning Challenges

Simon x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut. Language.

Word Count: 1,669

“You’re not gonna get what you want if you keep that up.”

“Five more minutes?” You begged.

“Baby, I’ve got to go.” Simon replied.

“Please?” You pressed on.

“I can’t, sweetheart.”

He looked down at your pouting face, his heart melting at the way your lower lip stuck out ever so slightly as you looked back at him through pleading eyes. It was early in the morning, around 6:00 or so. Simon usually didn’t get his day started until around 7:30, but today he had some things he wanted to get a head start on.

And you weren’t happy about it.

“Simon,” You whined; “I want you to stay.”

You refused to let him out of your death cling, which consisted of you wrapping yourself around him in a way that meant he’d have to quite literally peel you off of him. He had to admit, you were making it awfully hard to get up and go to work.

“You have work too, you know.” Simon pointed out.

“Never this early. The sun hasn’t even come up yet.” You argued back, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“It’ll start to in a few minutes.” He announced.

You grumbled, your fingers dancing along his toned core.

“Don’t you have a pass for a day off or something?” You questioned.

A chuckle escaped his chest, as he peppered kisses along your neck.

“Yeah, something like that. I’ve been holding off on using it,” Simon answered; “Been saving it for a special occasion.”

“Today’s a special occasion.” You claimed, shifting a little under the feeling of Simon’s facial hair scratching at your skin.

“Is it?” He acquired.

His lips nipped at certain areas on your neck, smirking at the sounds of your giggles and squirms.

“How often do we get mornings alone together where we don’t really have to be in a hurry to get anywhere?” You wondered.

“Not often. You’re not wrong about that,” Simon replied; “Are you saying I should take today off?”

You shrugged.

“It’d be nice. You and I could stay here all day...” You whispered out, taking your turn kissing his neck and jawline.

He was hesitant to give you a promise if he couldn’t afford a day off from work. Although, staying in bed all day was tempting. You moved to crawl over on top of him, straddling his waist and continuing to layer him with kisses. Your hips grinded down against his crotch, eliciting a groan from the man. Your fingers wrapped around the waistband on his boxers, yanking them down his legs.

“Angel...don’t start something you can’t finish.” He warned, arousal beginning to flush over him as you removed your t-shirt from your body exposing your fully naked body to him.

You hummed out seductively, grinning at how he had gotten so hot and bothered by just a few kisses and showing your nakedness to him.

“How about this...” You purred, glancing over out the window and then looking back to Simon being sprawled out underneath you; “If I can make you cum before the sun fully comes up, then you have to take the day off.”

Simon’s hands gripped your waist to keep you from going anywhere, his brown eyes blown with lust.

“You’ve got a deal.” He murmured.

The sun had just started to peek over the horizon, so you didn’t have long before it was fully risen. You rocked your hips, dragging your sex over his dick and teasing your clit with his tip to build up your own arousal. It usually took some foreplay to get you wet and ready for him, but now you were having to put in a little effort to get where you needed to be.

You had to admit, Simon usually had your walls slick and cunt dripping with arousal within no time at all. It had been quite some time since you had to do it yourself. He watched in amusement, your desperate whimpers made his heart flutter as you tried your hardest to get yourself turned on. You were a bit out of practice when it came to self-satisfaction.

“Do you need a hand, baby?” He smirked, a snicker bubbling out of his throat.

You nodded vigorously, your hip rocking beginning to slow.

“Please.” You whined.

He obliged, wasting no time finding your clit with his fingers. You almost jolted off of him in waves of shocking pleasure if it hadn’t been for his hand holding you down. He cycled between different speeds and motions that he knew would have you pooling within only a few seconds. Your eyelashes batted as you rocked into his fingers, his deep voice sounding out.

“Such a pretty girl...” He groaned; “I’m not helping you after this, doll. If you want me to take my day off, you’re going to have to earn it.”

His words resonated with you that the goal was for you to get him to cum. Not the other way around. Although, you had a feeling you might get as lucky. You pulled his hand away just as the ecstasy fog began to cloud your head, letting you know you were good to go.

You lined yourself up and sank down onto him, drawing moans out of both of you. You had fucked him enough that you never really needed to adjust to him, but you always started out rather slow. You rolled pelvis in a slow ride, soaking his cock with your hot arousal and slickness. Simon’s head fell back onto the pillows, his hands trailing over your warm skin. He kneaded and your breasts, playing with your stimulated nipples in a way that sent sparks down your spine.

He reveled in the feeling of you slow riding him. It was secretly his favorite way to have you, despite popular belief. There was a time and place for rough, hard sex. Whereas something more sensual and slower like this was always in order. While he usually enjoyed a long, glacial fuck at the END of the day, he was preferring something a little faster to get the BEGINNING of his day started off right.

“Darlin’...” He implored, his tone letting you know that he wanted you to speed it up; “You’re not gonna get what you want if you keep that up.”

You nodded, shifting your movements into more of a bounce, and your speed increasing. He stretched and filled your walls perfectly, his tip hitting your g-spot every time you slammed back down onto his lap. The room was getting brighter as the sun crept higher and higher. Your skin was glowing in the warm colors of the sunrise, making you look so beautiful that it almost looked fake. He somewhat kept his original statement, keeping one hand above his head and one strictly on your waist to avoid giving you any assistance.

That didn’t stop him from verbally praising you.

“So fucking good, baby,” He mewled; “You’re such a good girl.”

Your brain couldn’t even string together a coherent sentence. The only noises coming out of you were breathy pitches and moans each time you bounced back down onto him. You were totally focused, having one goal in mind.

You were going to give him the best orgasm of his life.

He was using all of his body force to keep his hips planted on the mattress. He was fighting the urge to fuck up into you with rutted, hard thrusts. You wanted to do this on your own, and by God he was going to let you. He LOVED the feeling of being buried deep inside of you when you sank onto him. He adored filling you and making noises that he didn’t even know were possible come out of you. He didn’t think it was possible, but you started moving even faster, sending blood rushing to his head.

“You’re going to be the death of me, [Y/N].” He said, his voice strained.

“I love you so much,” You huffed, your lungs breathless; “I want to spend every morning like this...”

Simon grunted in agreement, his mind too thick with fog to verbally respond. Truth be told, Simon was trying his hardest not to cum, putting off his release until after your goal time. It wasn’t that he DIDN’T want to cum, but he thought he could tantalize you from work if he caused you to fail at your challenge.

But the way you were rocking, rotating, and wonderfully fucking him, he realized he couldn’t help himself.

His dick twitched inside your throbbing cunt, signaling that he was only a few more moments away from spilling inside of you. A throaty groan erupted from his chest as he came inside of you, filling you with every drop of his release.

Your climax hit you in a flash of white, a strangled cry falling from your lips. You came around him, your movements coming to a stop as your body went limp. You placed your hands on his lower abdomen to steady yourself, your legs trembling from the strenuous movement.

His grip on your waist loosened, and now both of his hands were caressing softly. You took a few moments to regain yourself, before Simon’s gentle laugh brought you back to reality. You followed his gaze outside the window to see that the sun had just fully appeared above the skyline.

Perfect timing.

“A promise is a promise.” Simon grinned, his chest still heaving.

Your smile was blinding as you popped off of him, falling next to him on the mattress. You had worked him rather hard, and you were sure to give him some loving care. You littered his chest and face with kisses, happy that he was staying in with you today.

“Since you’ll be here all day, we could do that again...and again and again.” You hinted.

Simon’s dark eyes were trained on you, his cheeks flushed at the thought.

“Promise?” He asked.

You caught his lips in a searing kiss before spending all day wrapped up in his presence.

“Promise.”

#simon #the walking dead simon #simon twd #simon the walking dead #simon x reader #simon twd x reader #simon twd fanfic #simon twd imagines #twd #twd simon #simon twd smut #simon twd x female reader #steven ogg #twdbegins

264 notes · View notes

muertawrites · 3 years

Text

Fireside (Zuko x Reader)

Word Count: 1,775

Author’s Note: I am so deeply sorry this took so long to post. I don’t know what happened but after Thanksgiving the creative part of my brain completely shut down and all I could do was lay in bed and play video games. But it’s back now so 🎉🎉🎉 happy new year to all of us!

I got this request a WHILE ago and had written something else for it but after reconsidering, I totally hated it, so this is the rewrite for some cozy, wintery goodness. I also love this idea because I’m constantly cold - my feet and hands are always freezing and even in summer I’ll wear sweaters and hoodies because aircon can get pretty chilly when you have the body temp of your average vampire.

Now for a little update: in the new year, I’ll be focusing more on original works than fanfiction. I’m still going to finish Two Halves, and I’ll still write fanfiction (because it’s still super fun) but I have so many ideas for original works that are taking over my brain that it seems only fitting to shift that direction. If you’re on my subscriber list and would like to only receive alerts for fanfic, let me know and I’ll add you to a separate list.

I hope you’re all having a wonderful holiday, taking time to relax and spend time with loved ones, and generally just glad to have survived this shithole of a year. Here’s hoping that 2021 goes better - 2020 set the bar pretty low so it shouldn’t be too hard. 🥂

Snow was a rare occurrence in the Fire Nation. Summers typically scorched, followed by peaceful autumns and mild winters; a little rainfall was all one typically expected during the colder months in the Imperial City.

This year, however, was much different. The mountains that bordered the villages and towns throughout the island were white capped under gray skies; streets were slickened by thick layers of ice that settled between cobblestones and creased the panes of windows; bracing breezes swept through landscapes unaccustomed to such unforgiving weather, carrying flurries of snow that bit at cheeks and cloaked the world in a dull ivory veil. Winter came to the Fire Nation seeking a cruel, unwarranted vengeance.

You woke in the middle of the night to find the fire beside your bed had died, leaving your borrowed room in a state of bitter, slicing cold. It wasn't the first time the Firelord’s palace had left you uncomfortably chilled since your arrival for his New Year’s celebrations, as the building was never meant to withstand this type of climate - sweeping ceilings, open breezeways, and tall windows with thin shutters ensured that the cold had its way. Being from the Northern Earth Kingdom, used to sturdy wooden lodges with massive fire pits that could burn an entire tree trunk with one lighting, this strange change of the typical season made you ache for home.

Knowing there were no matches beside the hearth (given the sheer amount of fire benders that resided in the palace), you gathered up your courage and begrudgingly rolled from your mattress, taking the blankets with and wrapping them tightly around yourself. The walls around you creaked, shifting under the push of moaning winds, as you slipped into the hallway in search of your host.

You were thankful that Zuko decided to keep his personal wing of the palace confined to a space that was mostly enclosed; the only breezeways in this part of the sprawling estate surrounded its courtyards and gardens, and were blocked by sets of heavy wood doors that shielded the inner parts of the building from being overcome by the elements. As you walked, traipsing through the corridor under your mound of blankets like some sort of shadowy, death-bringing phantom, you passed one of the windows that overlooked the gardens, and found it frosted under heavy white tufts of snow; puffy, clumped flakes whirled down from the sky, falling haphazardly as they escaped the grip of the whipping wind. Even in the relative warmth of the palace, your body shivered thinking of how frigid the air outside must be.

Because of the abnormal cold, Zuko moved his mattress out of his bedroom and into his sitting room, where a large, decorative fireplace stood nestled into the far wall. You approached his sleeping form with gentle, quiet steps, being careful not to startle him; you lay a hand on his shoulder and he jolted awake, drawing a sharp breath in as he twisted to face you, blinking blearily to make out your features in the dark.

“What are you doing?” he muttered.

“I'm cold,” you whispered in response. “My fire went out.”

Zuko sighed, fixing you with an irked, exhausted expression.

“Seriously?” he groaned. “This is the third time this week.”

“It's not my fault nobody has any friggin matches in this place,” you quipped. “And besides, why bring a servant all the way up here when I have one of the world’s greatest fire benders down the hall?”

Zuko huffed, then rolled back over in an attempt to shove you off.

“There should be more blankets in your closet,” he grumbled.

“I'm wearing all of them,” you retorted.

You stood above him, waiting, but got no response. Shivering, and with an exasperated sigh, you pulled back the blankets around him, shuffling between them and nestling into his back; he snapped his head around once more, eyeing you suspiciously.

“... Isn’t this a little uncomfortable?” he wondered.

“Not really,” you replied. “We used to do this all the time when we were teenagers.”

“We haven't done this since we were teenagers.”

You hummed, recalling your time together during the war. Even on the hottest days, your body was cold, your fingers always reasonably corpselike to anyone who happened to touch them - Zuko was one of those unfortunate people, and the lack of circulation in your limbs came as quite a worry to him. Throughout the day, he would take one of your hands in his, heating his palm until your skin took on a more lively temperature. When he noticed how much you layered at night when the air became cooler, he started sleeping nearer to you, eventually curling up around you to keep you warm. After the war, when he got into the habit of visiting you around the winter holidays, you still found yourself seeking him for warmth, tucking your hands into the sleeves of his robes or curling his palm around your icy fingers, finding sanctuary in the way he heated his skin to appease you. While it was true you hadn't slept together since you were younger, you hadn't ever needed to - desperate times called for desperate measures.

“I should have remembered that you get so grumpy when you're tired,” you teased him, rubbing your feet against his; he hissed, but didn't pull away.

“You're freezing,” he commented. “I should have remembered you're dead on the inside.”

You giggled, sighing happily as the familiar heat of his skin warming like a furnace chased the chill from your toes. You slid your feet up along his ankles, causing him to shiver; his body tensed for a moment, then eased into your touch, quickly finding comfort in its familiarity.

“Aang used to assume we were a couple because of this,” Zuko mumbled. “He still does.”

“You're just a good friend,” you replied. You nuzzled your face into the broad, solid expanse of his back, breathing in his scent of scorched wood and sea salt. He felt like home. “Good friends don't let their friends freeze to death.”

Zuko chuckled, taking hold of your hands that lay on his waist and cupping them within his own; he held your knuckles up to his mouth and huffed warm, smokey air onto them, heating them until they no longer felt cold. He tucked them beneath the fabric of his tunic, keeping them tepid between the fabric of his undershirt.

“Uncle says the same thing,” he mused. “He says we treat each other like lovers, whether we realize it or not.”

“My neighbors have asked me what my husband does that takes him away for so long out of the year...” you commented, eliciting another breathy laugh from your companion. “But I think I'd know if you were in love with me.”

Zuko rolled over, turning to face you; his arm latched at your waist, his chest almost pressed to you and your noses grazing each other in the small space of his mattress. You blushed, the color blending with the soft, balmy glow of the low hearth behind him.

“What makes you think I'm not in love with you?” he wondered.

You paused, watching the flames flicker over the angular features of his face. Though he was silhouetted, and so close he seemed to envelop all of you, you could make out a tender gleam in his eye; could feel the flutter in his chest as he split it open, tentatively revealing his heart to you.

“... I'd like to think you would have mentioned it,” you answered after a moment, “but I know you better than that.”

Zuko grinned; you watched the curve of his cheek as it swelled with the action.

“I might have mentioned it,” he murmured, his voice lilting with a gentle mirth. “Just not to you.”

“Of course not,” you teased. You mirrored his smile, easing into him as his foot began to stroke against your ankle once more. “Either way, I know you don't love me.”

“And why is that?” Zuko whispered.

“Well… you never write to me about anything exciting,” you replied. “You always seem so content to write to me about your thoughts, or what plays you've seen recently, or your conversations with Iroh. You never tell me about the impressive, world-altering Firelord stuff or your incredible exploits as a warrior.”

Zuko smirked, raising a hand to brush some hair away from your face. His fingers were calloused and lukewarm, tracing over your temple with consideration and care.

“Why else?”

“You've never tried to kiss me,” you noted, “or touch me like a lover. You never try to push our boundaries past anything that's comfortable for us. Even right now - I'm laying in your bed, but you refuse to touch me in a way you're unsure of.”

“Then you don't love me, either,” Zuko added. His body had gravitated flush to yours, your legs braided together under the pile of blankets you'd buried him in. “You only want to sleep with me when you're cold. You could just as easily call a servant for help.”

“And you only want to keep me warm out of obligation,” you agreed. “It wouldn’t make you look very good if I died of hypothermia on your watch.”

For a long moment, Zuko gazed at you. You basked in his silence, the easiness of his form so close to yours, the native feeling of his arm around your waist and his breath tickling your cheeks. The fire snapped quietly in its hearth, its flames rising and falling in time with his inhales and exhales.

“I’ve missed this,” Zuko admitted in a whisper. “Laying with you. I wish we could do it more often.”

“I’ve missed it, too,” you affirm. “I always used to sleep better with you.”

“And that’s it?” Zuko teased.

“That’s it,” you giggled back.

He chanced a kiss to your forehead, pressing his lips between your brows and letting them linger there, savoring the coolness of your skin. You shut your eyes, giving yourself entirely to his touch.

“In the new year… do you think we could be lovers?” he asked as he pulled away.

“... I think your uncle is right,” you murmured. “I think we already are.”

With a faint, bashful smile, Zuko pulled you closer (if the act were even possible), hugging you tightly to him; you held him close, pressing the whole of your body to his and soaking in his steady, comforting warmth. As the wind howled outside, shaking the flimsy wooden eaves of the feeble shelter around you, you fell asleep in the heat of his fireside, safe in the knowledge that his arms held you.

📚 table of contents 📚

✨ join me on patreon ✨

☕ buy me a coffee ☕

{ subscribers: @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @celamoon @omgwhattheeven @i-am-not-a-thot @fandomtrash1616 @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @just-another-romantic @berkeliums @eridanuswave @oleander-in-the-wind @kinismanditory @lammello @peppermenty @theawesomefactor123 @loganrwebb @ijustwannabecanadian @a-hopeless-fan @softvv @oddment-niwit-blubber-tweak @pearl-stonecutter @crazy0t @commander-rex @kittyddandnyla @abbyarchie @smol-grandpa @nonbinary-rogers @themanwiththemetalarmsdoll @witchywrter @canibea-whore-yet @fuckwhateverfuck @eridanuswave @duh-dobrik @sum-stuff13 @whalerus @yeetletzgetitjae @thedemigodsarealivebitch @irreplaceable-ecstasy @mysticpeacecrusade }

382 notes · View notes

esperanzagalaxy · 3 years

Photo

KEEP SHOOTING KNEES OFF IN HEAVEN KING 🏹🌙........

two versions because i couldn’t pick just one idea when i was sketching and turns out they made for a great diptych! 💙 i first started these in late october and let them sit until january, cause i wasn’t drawing clothes or perspective very well and needed some study to do them justice. i’m happy i did, these sorts of renders are one of my favorite things in the world and i’m very happy to be able to make them... only bad thing was that i thought that being an actual archer would mean that i’d be able to draw these more accurately, and it turned out to be the complete opposite. in my defense, though, quarantine has meant no archery for a year, so... at least i can channel my love for it through my equally undying love for grizzop!

[ID: two digital illustrations of grizzop from rusty quill gaming. they're both made with clean, polished lines and color, showing him striking a pose at the center of each composition. the first one is of grizzop around the damascus arc, with his canon aspect and outfit: bald, dark gray skin, red eyes, long pointed ears & fangs; and he's wearing a dark green coat with his artemis breastplate and a light yellow shirt underneath, along with light brown trousers, boots, arm guards and light shoulder pauldrons. he's shown a little from below, turning a little bit so his body is mostly facing left while his head is turned to the right. he's standing triumphantly, smirking with narrowed eyes and a trickle of green blood on his nose and mouth, with large clouds of dust signaling an explosion behind him, going partially from the right to the left. he has his right hand lifted to the quiver at his back, and the left holding his bow down so it cuts slightly diagonally in front of his figure. it is orange and yellow, and it's carved to show motifs of shining moons, antlers and laurels. his right leg is stepping higher up on something off screen, with the left one standing straight and cutting before his shoes are visible, and a line of rocks can be seen behind him at the bottom. his coat billows behind him and between his legs with the force of the explosion, and there are some tears and dirt on his clothes. the sun is visible high behind him on the top left corner, with clouds seeming to circle around it. everything is tinted orange and brown. the second drawing is on a similar angle and pose, except this time it's on artemis's hunting grounds, a nighttime scene in vibrant blues and greens, with grass visible at the bottom of the picture and tall trees far behind, leaving much of the sky visible -including a crescent moon on the top right corner. grizzop's nocking an arrow and holding his bow so it's seen horizontally in front of him, coming towards us. his stance is wide but on even ground, his right leg to the front and left one going back. his body is again mostly facing to the left while he turns his head to the right, smiling widely with joyful eyes; his piercings, clothes and ears flowing to the right by s strong wind. his clothes are untainted and he's got no injuries. he's wearing a new outfit that consists of a green sleveless shirt with a golden stripe of embroidered antler symbols running down the middle, partially covered by an ornate light blue chest guard decorated with laurels on the borders, and artemis's downward crescent moon with three arrows pointing down behind it. he's got green leggings and high white boots with the same carved-like curves of the riser of his bow, with orange borders at the top and on the front a crescent moon brooch each. his full quiver is at his hip to his right, held by a broad belt that has two layers and is decorated as the rest of his equipment. he has a long blue scarf and four matching ends coming from underneath the belts, all of a long, smooth cloth, flowing in the wind. his arms are bare and there are light freckles on his shoulders and face. /end ID]

#grizzop drik acht amsterdam #rusty quill gaming #rqg #rqg spoilers #digital illustration #fanart #2021 #digital #finished works #can you tell how badly i was starving for designing an outfit and how long it had been since i had had to actually do it?#i love these so much guys they're my phone wallpapers. im so happy to be making art im proud of #shoutout to my borther for posing for me.... though the night one was a frankesntein of him and me in the end dsfdhd

158 notes · View notes

parkersloths · 3 years

Note

Hi ^^

First of all – your Art is INCREDIBLE!!!

I especially love your use of colors and textures :) Everything is so bright and colorful, but still cohesive. And your images are so clear without being overly detailed! It’s all literally perfection!!!

I like to draw digitally as well and your art-style is a huge inspiration for me. So I wanted to ask if you have any work in progress videos or pictures? Or if you could explain your process in general? Like, are you using a sketch layer underneath, with how many layers are you normally working, what kind of brushes do you use or any tips overall to improve digital painting?

Of course you don’t have to answer this (kinda a lot of questions, sorry 😅 ). Just know that I adore your art and that you’re helping me on my own art-journey just by sharing your work with the world – so, thank you!!! <3

Hey!! So first of all thank you so much for everthing you said about my art, I really appreciate it! But also omg thank youuu for this amazing ask like this is for real the kind of ask I've always wanted to get, where a total stranger is interested in my process XD So yeah don't worry about asking a lot of questions, they were great and I loved them!

Also I'm super flattered that my art has inspired you in your own digital art journey and I hope the stuff I say here can also help somewhat! This will get pretty long so sorry in advance everyone for making you scroll so much cause for some reason the read more option doesn't work on mobile :/

But anyway to answer your questions!

Sadly I don't have videos but I do have some pics I'll share. This is actually my second attempt at answering this because before I was going to use some WIP pics of the Majid drawing as example but then I didn't want to because it was in black and white and color is kind of one of the main things I like to emphasize in my art so I wanted to talk about it in the example XD Then I started a couple new drawings and was taking pics of those but I got super artblocked, but luckily I just finished one out of the blue that I can use. Okay so... I started answering this, again, and it was getting way too long and rambly so I'm gonna try to keep it simple this time and maybe I can elaborate more another time if you're still interested/ if anyone else wants know X'D

My process in general: I always start by making a simple basic background to work on, just fill it in and add some blotches of color. Then on a new layer I just start painting the subject, no sketch, so again just laying down some colors (I usually take whatever color in the bg is closest to skin tone and adjust the new color from there) and I just start blocking some shapes in aproximately the right places to start defining where things will be and how they fit together and just go from there. It's hard to explain it more cause that's kinda it, I just paint until things look like they're supposed to or at least visually appealing enough XD I add or adjust whatever colors seem necessary along the way (in this particular drawing I left the darker values until way too late which I don't recommend) and just refine and refine and refine things and add as many or as few details as I feel like, working on everything simmultaneously bit by bit.

Layers: like I mentioned before there's no sketch, and I try to use as few layers as possible so usually I'll have about 3-5. One for the basic background, one to three (though sometimes I merge them) additional layers for more background effects/colors/value fixes that I usually add later in the process, and I try to have just one for the subject. Sometimes I have one or two more if I'm feeling too hesitant but I always merge them in the end.

Brushes: I only use one brush at 50% opacity the whole time for everything. It's a squarish/rectangular brush that has some sort of jagged edges and a bit of a watercolory texture.

Tips: so this part is especially hard cause like.. I feel like any tips I could give are only applicable to drawing portraits and even then it'd be for doing it in the particular way that I prefer.. Like for example I could say it's best to work on every area at the same time and never spend too long one thing before moving on to the next but.. some people actually prefer finishing the eyes completely before moving on to the nose for example you know? So honestly the main thing I'll say is kinda to just experiment with a lot of methods and styles and see what works or doesn't work for you. Something that I think always helped me a lot was watching speedpaints of people who were more skilled than me and had a distinct style, just literally watch how they did their thing and every once in a while I might notice something I'd be interested in trying for myself and yeah with practice and experience you just kinda figure out what kind of things you not only like seeing but actually want in your own art. Like years ago I used to sketch but then I saw enough videos of people painting without sketching that I wanted to try it and I realized it's just more fun and makes more sense to me that way. So yeah try lots of different things and see what works for you and what you want to incorporate into your own art style!

Some more standard digital art tips I could give I guess are like.. the thing I said about not spending too much time on just one area (if it applies to your prefered process XD). Flip the drawing every now and then to catch stuff that's off. Stay zoomed out as much as possible and when you do zoom in for details always keep an eye on how the bigger picture's looking. Take your time finding or arranging a good reference pic that really inspires you cause it'll save you time and frustration later. And aaa idk I could say more but I don't think it's that informative or helpful, and all of this is probably really basic obvious stuff anyway and this is long enough as it is so yeah I'll leave it there...

I hope any of this can help in some way or that I've at least answered your questions in a satisfying enough way haha And finally here are some of the WIP pics I took. Where you can see some parts of the process. I did a lot more after that last pic but yeah at that point it's just about fixing little things, refining and adding details, but there you can see the color adjustment thing I usually do as the very last step (though not for this pic). I don't always have to do it, and there are probably times when I shouldn't, but I almost always like to do it anyway and that's why my colors look so exaggerated and bright XD I usually make the midtones more red and/or magenta, the shadows more blue, and the highlights more yellow (and sometimes a bit cyan) but if you wanna try something like that it's definitely fun to experiment with the different color possibilities ;u;

And yeah that's it for now! I'm sorry this is so long, and this was the short version lol I hope you like the answers at least a fraction of how much I loved the questions X'D

#asks #asks and stuff #sorry for the late reply #ugh this is so long sorry #but seriously I love questions #feel free to ask me stuff lol #I apparently also love to talk X'D

43 notes · View notes

babyspiderling · 4 years

Text

Little Red Corvette p.2 Michael Jackson x reader

(Bad Era)

Eight Months Later (1983)

I did this pregnancy on my own. My mother was appalled at the fatherless child growing inside of me and refused to support me through my pregnancy. The struggles and frustrations for the past nine months very easily justified when I held my baby boy in my arms. His skin was a beautiful shade of brown, his eyes deep and pulling like his fathers. Looking down at the tiny human finally in the world, there was no question or doubt in my mind who the father was. By blessing or curse, I was the only one who knew who the father was. Relatively early in my pregnancy, Michael released a video for one of his songs "Billie Jean". I sat and stressed over the possibility of him knowing of the child in my womb for weeks, but nothing came of it. No managers offering hush money, no reporters asking about the legitimacy of the child inside of me, nothing, so life went on. Looking down at the life in my arms, snuggled towards me I spoke softly. "Edward Michael L/N. My little blessing."

1986

It wasn't too long after Edward, or Eddie was born that I went back to work. I hired a sitter, or depending on the client, brought him in with me. Whitney Houston and Cher absolutely gushed over him during breaks. When Eddie was three, I got a call from Quincy Jones asking me to help him out on the mixing on an album. I agreed and found someone to watch my son while I worked. Quincy didn't tell me who I was hired for and I didn't want to seem unprofessional to whoever Quincy was working with. I kissed my three year old good-bye and got into my car to head to the studio they were using. "Bye Blessing! Mommy's going to work, but I'll be home soon. I love you so much!" I drove through the California traffic to the studio and parked my car near the front. I checked myself in the mirror before making my way inside.

"Y/N! You made it! Where's Eddie? You know you can bring him any time? Little dude has got potential if you ever want him to get into our world." I laugh at Quincy's antics. "Yeah, I know you love Eddie. Thank you for the compliment, but he's three, Q. He's not going into show business any time soon." Q shrugs his shoulders and turns back to the soundboard in his rolling chair. "Alright, let's get down to business shall we?" He nods and presses play on the vocals. I feel the blood drain from my face as a familiar voice croons from the speakers.

"I don't care what you talkin' 'bout baby, I don't care what you say. Don't you come walkin' beggin' back mama,I don't care anyway"

I stand stock still in shock, flashes of our one night together, my isolated pregnancy, my little boy waiting at home for me. I yank myself out of it with a sharp gasp when Q places a hand on my elbow, his eyebrows creased in worry. "Hey, Y/N, you good? You look like you've seen a ghost. What's going on?" I swallow and tuck my hair behind my ear, a nervous tick. "Yeah, I'm fine Q. I don't know what that was. How're we mixing this one?" He sits back in his chair, taking a deep breath and heaving it out in a large sigh. "Yeah, about that. Smelly's really particular on how he wants each track to sound on this album. He wants his voice to be layered in a harmony with himself during the chorus. He's recorded the audio, now it's our turn to get it just the way he wants." I nod and sit down in my own chair, slipping the large, bulky headphones over my ears to start working. The sooner I can finish working on Michael's album the better.

"Alright! Two music heads working on that was much faster than just me. I've got a few more tracks to work on before the release of the album. You good to come in say, day after tomorrow? Early morning so we can get a lot done. And bring Eddie. I miss my godson." I laugh and roll my eyes, giving Quincy a playful shove on the shoulder. "Works for me. And yes, I'll bring Eddie if the 'Client' won't mind a toddler running around the studio space while we work." Q chuckles and reclines in his chair. "No, he won't mind. I have a feeling you know who we're working for here?" I nod, and grab my purse off the ground. "Alright, you know it's Michael. I promise he won't mind. He loves kids" I nod, not really looking forward to potentially forcing Michael into Eddie's life out of obligation. I drive home reflecting on the strange chain of events that brought me here in the first place. I pull into the driveway and unlock the door. I drop my things on the floor where I stand and catch my little boy running into my arms. "Mommy! Me and April painteded! Come see! Come see!" He wiggles out of my arms and drags me to the fridge by my wrist. He bounces where he stands as I look at his painting. It was surprisingly detailed for a three year old. I smile proudly at him as I turn to my sitter, April. "Thank you for watching him so last minute. I really appreciate it." She just smiles at me and grabs her purse from the table. "Oh, Ms. L/N, it's really no trouble. Eddie is just the best kid ever. He was so funny during lunch. I had the radio playing while we ate and he just sat there, dancing in his seat. He didn't even realize he was doing it! But honestly, he is the easiest kid I have ever watched." I pay her and walk her out to her car parked on the street. I turn back to Eddie with a smile. "Wanna eat and watch a movie tonight with Mommy?" My blessing nods his head so hard and fast, I think it'll fly off like a bobble head with a loose spring. "Alright bud, what do you want for dinner?" "PIZZA!" I chuckle at my little boy. "Alright, pizza it is."

I buckle Eddie in the backseat, and climb into the front seat myself. "We're gonna see Uncle Q today buddy! Mommy has to make some music, but you get to hang out with us!" He kicks his legs in the air and gives a shout of excitement. "Yay Uncle Q!" I turn on the radio and look over my shoulder to pull out of the driveway to get to the studio. Parking, I pull the keys out of the ignition and grab Eddie, reminding him to put his backpack on. I hold his hand as we make our way to the studio, the front empty. I sit Eddie down on the chair and go to grab a cup of coffee from the lobby. "I'll be right back baby. I'm gonna get some coffee, and find Uncle Q ok?" He nods and swings his legs in the chair. I hand him the truck from his bag and kiss his forehead before leaving.

I bumped into Quincy in the hall after getting my coffee and went back to the studio space together. When we opened the door, a slim caramel skinned man was kneeling before my son, talking and laughing with him. At the sound of the door opening, Eddie glanced at us. "Mommy! Uncle Q! I made a new friend! His name is Michael, like me!" I widen my eyes in shock at his innocent chatter. Quincy scoops up his godson and chuckles. "Oh yeah Eddie? And what did you guys talk about?" Eddie wraps his arms around Q's neck. "We talked about drawing! Michael is very really good at coloring!" Q humors his godson, chuckling at the boy who has him wrapped around his little finger. While the two talk Michael lifts himself from the ground and introduces himself. "Hi, I'm Michael. I don't think we've been introduced." He sticks out his hand and I feel conflicted. I was so afraid of him noticing me, connecting the dots, but it hurt a bit that I meant so little to him. In his defense, it was one night, four years ago. I grasp his hand and introduce myself again. "Y/N. I'm mixing for your album with Q. You've already met my son, Eddie." He shakes my hand, and smiles back at Eddie. "He's a joy. I was recording and didn't know he was here. I look up and little guy's just dancing in his seat like crazy. He was just coloring on a blank sheet of paper. Sweet kid." I nod and swallow. "Let's get to work, shall we?" Michael nods and goes to the soundboard to listen to the new version of "Leave Me Alone". I watch Michael bob his head to the rhythm, as Eddie dances in the corner. I nibble and pull on my lips in a nervous tick. The music fades out and Michael looks at Q and I with a smile. "Awesome guys! Just what I wanted. I want Y/N as my mixer for the rest of the album. That good Quincy?" Quincy bounces Eddie in his lap, grinning. "Of course it's good! Gotta teach my godson the ropes right?" I smile and ruffle Eddie's hair lovingly, nodding along. Q, Eddie, and I occupy the main front of the studio space as Michael goes back to record another track.

The day goes by quickly, Q leaving the three of us alone to grab lunch. I sit at the recording desk and write down a few lyrics here and there, a melody and message in my head dying to get out. I glance over at my son and see him and Michael goofing around. I smile sadly, imagining what our lives would be like if Michael didn't leave that morning, if he knew he had a son with me. I guess I didn't realize how long I had been staring at the two until my son met my eyes, causing him to run to me in a comforting manner. "Mommy, what's wrong?" I shake off the sadness and force a smile on my face to keep my caring boy from worrying over me. "I'm fine baby. Just a bit tired. It may be Mommy's nap time soon." He nods and giggles, kissing my cheek before going back to Michael. Michael picks up Eddie, placing him on his hip, and walks towards me. 'Hey, Y/N, if you want, you can take a nap in the recording studio. I've got a couch back there. I can come and get you when Quincy comes back with lunch. I try to turn down his offer, but a yawn interrupts my objection. Michael gently guides me to the studio and sits me down on the couch, exiting and turning the lights out on the way. Against my wishes, I close my eyes and succumb to the peace of sleep.

I groggily pulled myself from the depths of dreamland at the sounds of people talking and laughing. I heard Eddie and Michael talking and it immediately caught my attention. "So, your mom makes music, your Uncle Q makes music, what does your dad do?" I peek out from the window and see Eddie and Michael sitting on the floor, rolling toy trucks around, a takeout container setting on the desk. "I don't know. I don't have a dad. Mommy plays Mommy and Daddy. She goes to all my games, plays with me, teaches me how to put on shoes." From where I stand, I can't see Michael's face, and I decide now is a good time to get back out there. I open the door and both boys look up at me. I glance at my watch and see that it's about time to go home. "Hey, sorry I slept so long. Why didn't you wake me up?" Michael shrugs and stands. "You looked so peaceful while you slept. Didn't want to wake you, let alone let you drive home tired. Lunch got here not too long ago so your food should still be warm. I was actually about to head home myself if you're ok with coming in tomorrow instead? We can keep working." I nod and grab my container. "In case I get here before you, what are you wanting to do with the other tracks?" I eat my food as he goes over what he wants to be done with a couple other songs to be put on the album. Now finished with my food, I throw away my empty container, asking Eddie to pack up so we can head home. Before we leave, Q comes back in, sad that we have to leave so soon. I promise to bring Eddie back tomorrow if that's alright with Michael, which it of course is. I give a hug to Q, and an awkward hug/handshake maneuver to Michael. Eddie practically tackles the both of the men in hugs and races to grab my hand. As we leave, I can faintly hear Michael tell Q "She seems so familiar, like I've met her before."

Taglist: @accio-boys

#michael jackson #michael jackson imagine #michael jackson x reader #80's series #80s imagines #80's imagine #80's x reader #80's fanfiction

172 notes · View notes

ethanharli · 4 years

Text

Pairing(s): Oikawa Tooru x Top Male Reader

Warning(s): NSFW (SMUT), Cursing, Bottom Oikawa, etc etc all that good stuff.

DNI; if you use she/her pronouns.

_________

I pray that my ears have deceived me, but from the apologetic look on my teachers face I know I heard it correctly. "[Y/n] you'll be working with Oikawa on this project" The pencil in my hand almost snapped when he spoke, so I took a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves. It's not like I have anything personal against the male but he surely does for me, only because his annoying ass fan-girls decided to make me their new target, causing the dumbass to lose some of his popularity amongst the females. Standing from my seat I moved towards the male, plopping down in the seat beside him since the teacher gave us the rest of class to start working on this three fucking week project. "We're working on this at your house" I stated bluntly, causing the shorter male to wince at my harsh tone.

"Eh? Why mine?!" He huffed while glaring at me through narrowed eyes, I merely shrugged and pulled out our text book, starting to flip through the pages. Not bothering to speak to the male anymore then I have to, however he didn't seem to take kindly to that and kept pestering me the whole damn class period, until finally the last bell rang, signaling for us to head home. Well not really since I have to head off with Oikawa, which wouldn't be too bad if it weren't for his squealing fan-girls that literally popped out of no where. "Oikawa!" A chorus of feminine voices sang aloud, running up to the setter besides me until their eyes turned towards me, "And [Y/n] too!" They screeched, but before Oikawa could make any advance in talking to them, I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him back, glaring at the girls through narrowed eyes.

"Fuck off" I growled, dragging Oikawa off the school grounds while also trying to ignore the way the girls swooned after. "Y'know you're really mean" The setter pouted as he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at me out the corner of his eye. With a quick roll of my eyes I stuffed my hands in my pockets, letting out a heavy sigh knowing it's going to be a very a long three weeks, and by the sudden glimmer in his eye I knew I was right. "Keep looking at me like that and I'll push you in the mud" I muttered out, getting a bit annoyed from the way he stared at me. "Do you have any other setting other than jerk?" Oikawa huffed, leading me up to his front door before letting me inside.

"For pretty boy's like you? No" I shot back, scratching at the back of my head before following him up to his room. A teasing smile was quickly brought to his lips as we stepped into his room, gazing into my eyes with a playful look, "You think I'm pretty?" His smile never faltered as he stepped closer to me, nearly brushing up against me. And I immediately saw the game he was trying to play, so with a quick glance I let my eyes wander over his face, taking in the way his eyes nearly shimmered a golden color under the light, then traveled them down his form, almost having to force my gaze away from the way he arched his back, "Maybe" I smirked, drawing my tongue over my upper lip before going back to my cold expression. Watching the way his face flushed slightly with widened eyes, before taking a seat on his floor.

Cause I don't plan to lose at a game that I know how to win.

***

It's only been a week into the project and Oikawa's been ruthless with his flirting, he even went as far as too see me during lunch and after the classes we didn't have together just to put a word or two in with a teasing smirk. However as the days went by something seemed a little off, I'd always notice that his gaze would linger on me a lot longer than it used too, his face would heat up whenever we talked and he'd actually show more of his calmer side, then there's the fact that even though he's been more ruthless with the flirting, it slowly stopped making me feel like I was some kind of goal he wished to accomplish, and the thought of that.. Kind of worried me.

Cause I know I'm starting to feel something for the male, even if he can be annoying as hell. Under all that he's really not a bad guy, he has his moments of serenity and the happy glimmer in his eyes when he's playing volleyball is something that makes me my heart flutter, but the real choice is should I actually follow this feeling or drop it here? I know Oikawa's continuous flirting was merely him trying to win me over, he was trying to play his cards right and if I'm being honest, he did well. He beat me at my own game and I damn well knew it, but would I admit it? Not in a million years.

"[Y/n]! Thanks for waiting" Oikawa panted as sweat slowly ran down his face and neck, quickly forcing my gaze away before any thoughts could come to mind. "Don't have much of a choice" I stated bluntly, starting to walk out the school gates I didn't brother waiting for Oikawa as I headed in the direction of his home leaving the screeching male to try and catch up with me. We walked in silence for a bit, but my attention was caught by the way a slow heat crept up Oikawa's neck, causing his cheeks and ears to burn a pretty pink while he chewed on his lower lip, nearly forcing my heart to stop from the sight. However the male suddenly stopped in his tracks, looking up at me with a small smile that I haven't seen before, "[Y/n] I need to tell you something" His tone was soft as he crossed his arms, taking a deep breath before looking me in the eye.

"I like you!" My eyes widened a bit at his words, but a tight feeling in my gut made me second guess his confession. I know his type, the playboy that can get anyone he wants, I only know because I was like that once back in junior high, I could've had anyone I wanted but, it got boring after a while and I realized I wanted something real not just that one week lover bullshit, I want someone to spend my life with, "No offense Oikawa but how am I supposed to believe that?" I knew my words would hurt him, and I immediately regretted it when his chocolate colored eyes shined from the thin layer of tears threatening to spill. "You flirt with every one of your fan girls, hell I saw you flirting with them at lunch yesterday and don't think I didn't know what you were trying to do when you started flirting with me."

Oikawa flinched at my words, slowly averting his gaze towards the ground and I had to resist the urge to pull him towards me, "Fine.. then I'll just have to make you believe me!" His lips curled into a small smile as his eyes filled with determination, shocking me a bit.

"We'll see."

***

It was a bit surprising to see that Oikawa had stopped flirting with his fangirls, taking any minute of the day he could just to spend time with me. He drags me to each of his volleyball practices, grinning at me with a hopeful gaze whenever he sets or serves, it was kind of cute how he always looking for me after doing so. That much I couldn't deny, but it finally hit the last week of our project with only the weekend to finish it, so sitting on his bed I finished gluing the pictures to the small board since we left the easy stuff for last, however Oikawa went to go change so it was just me in the room, until someones arms wrapped around my neck, resting their chest against my back. "[Y/n]" Oikawa muttered into my ear with a low whine that caused me to stop what I was doing, feeling his warmth slowly flood over me in a soothing way.

"What are you doing Oikawa?" I breathed out, moving my hands to his arms with a gentle but firm grip, looking back at him through the corner of my eye, only to see the beautiful chocolate brown I've come to adore. "C'mon! We've gotten to know each other well enough and I even confessed to you! So call me Tooru" He whined, shifting around so that he was sitting in front of me, giving me a full view of the baggy t-shirt he wore and simple dark blue boxers underneath. It was nearly impossible to tare my gaze away and that was obviously his intention when he moved the project to the floor, climbing into my lap with a teasing smirk that I've seen plenty of times before. Running his fingers through my hair he bit his bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth in a slow motion that kept my eyes on the movement.

It was a simple trick that had all my attention, pulling me in until I let out a soft groan from the sudden ghost-like touch on my cock that had forced a shudder through Oikawa's body. "Tooru-" I muttered subconsciously, moving my hands to thighs that I gripped tightly when he started to palm me through my pants, "Ngh.." The moan that slipped past his lips sounded like music to my ears, and I just had to hear more. The corner of my lips curved into a sly smirk as I moved my hands up his thighs, pressing my thumbs to the soft inner part of them before pressing my lips to the base of his neck, dragging my teeth up the soft skin, biting down when he let out a breathy moan along with a sudden shiver that ran down his spine. "[Y-Y/n].." He whimpered softly, moving his hands under my shirt to pull it off, which I gladly allowed, loving the way his hands explored my upper body as I pushed up his shirt, practically yanking it off of him when he smirked up at me, face flushed in the brightest red I've seen it.

After pressing his back into the bed he took my hand with his as he shamelessly brought it to his lips, curling his tongue around my middle finger in a slow motion that made my pants tighten uncomfortably, and I couldn't help but notice he was in the same pain I'm in. I happily pressed the pad of my finger against the back of his tongue, taking note of the fact he didn't gag from the action, useful information for later. With that thought out the way I tugged at the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down and off his smooth legs, taking in the sight of his messy form beneath me. I pulled my hand from his grasp, quickly capturing his lips with my own in a slow motion in order to savour the taste of his mouth when he shyly brushed his tongue with my own, desperately gripping onto my hair as I pressed my middle finger to his entrance, hoping that the kiss would help distract him from the sudden feeling when I slowly pushed it in.

"Hah! [Y-Y/n]!" He gasped out, moving his fingers from my hair to rake down my back in a painful motion that forced a groan from my throat. "Keep going-" His words caused my eyes to widen a bit until I realized something that I couldn't help but smirk at, "Did you already prep yourself?" I asked, nipping at his ear afterwards, loving the way his body trembled from my touch. All I got in response was a quick shameless nod, bucking his hips in an attempt to get more friction from my fingers, "Well if that's the case" I hummed, pulling away from the male in order to take off my pants, letting them fall to the ground. "On your hands and knee's, now" I demanded in my usual cold tone that forced a shiver down his spine, but I could tell it aroused him even more by the way his cock twitched and the whimper that escaped his throat as he spun around, lifting his ass in the air while pressing his face into his pillow, looking back at me with pleading eyes.

With a quick nod I took his hips in my hands, lining my cock up to his entrance before slowly pushing in, still giving him time to adjust even if he'd already prepped himself. The way his back arched when I pushed all the way in caught my attention along with the way he dug his nails into the sheets beneath him, letting out heavy pants into the pillow. "M-Move" He whimpered out, while my grip tightens on his hips, pulling out just to the tip before snapping my hips back, immediately feeling his walls clench around me as I rocked my hips in a fast pace, simply wanting to hear the way his voices hitches everytime I thrust back in, "[Y/N] THERE! P-lease! Please.." The pleading tone in voice caused my core to tighten, so pulling out I flipped Oikawa on his back, thrusting back in without warning, adoring the way his mouth hung open, panting heavily, pupils blown with a lustful desire I wouldn't want to see from anyone else.

Adjusting slightly I aimed at the spot from before, hitting it straight on while wrapping my hand around his cock, pumping it with quick motions that caused him to scream my name, "C-Cumming! I'm cumming!" Oikawa's body quaked under me as he released onto his chest, letting his eyes flutter shut with heavy breaths as I kissed his forehead, "Just a little longer Tooru" I whispered, brushing my fingers against his cheek as I tried to pull out, only for Oikawa to pull me back with his legs forcing me to cum inside him, which earned me a small hiss of pleasure. Panting heavily I moved to lay besides him on my back, not minding when he cuddled up under my arm, "Are you feeling okay?" I asked in a throaty tone, only getting a weak nod in reply.

"Does this mean.. You accept my confession?" Oikawa chuckled softly, pulling the blanket over us in a slow motion and I couldn't hold back the smile forming on my face, looking down at the brunette with a soft expression.

"Of course you idiot."

"Mm, well now I'm your idiot now!"

#oikawa x male reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x male reader #oikawa x seme male reader #haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#x seme male reader #x male reader #x dom male reader #oikawa tooru x seme male reader

778 notes · View notes

walksinlatewithcoffee · 3 years

Text

So! Since I was lucky enough to have some really nice references this time, I wanted to give a sneak peak into the ✨design process✨ for how I make character designs for smp characters!

So I left in all my scribbling!

(Totally not cause I forgot to clean my canvas and move my sketch to the center so there was a big gap on one side for no reason…)

Anyway, here’s the behind-the-scenes! Explanations under the cut!

So first off I always get reference of the skin used by the character, and what the cc looks like if I’m lucky (which I was!) I started off by noting all the things about the skin I wanted to expand upon.

I then took my irl reference and started noting all the defining facial features! Anime-ish styles like mine can suffer from same-face syndrome so whenever possible I like to have a real face to reference. I’m particularly proud of the eyes in this design!

I then wrote down some notes on what I’d gathered, to collect a sort of action plan for the design.

In this case I’d seen people already interpreting the red sleeve as vines or blood, so I wanted to do something different.

I also was hoping to tie in this design to a common Tommy headcanon I really like: sewing. So instead of being a foreign object, the red bits are patches used to repair the sleeve when it was apparently shredded! I think it’s a more subtle and fitting way to link the two characters rather than making them the same hybrid or something.

I usually don’t keep my sketches but I put it to the side just to show how mine usually look, they’re not super pretty, I tend to use lots of colors cause I have trouble interpreting the layers of the sketch if it’s all one color. Though that might be because they’re messy more than anything.

So yeah, that’s how I design characters!

In future drawings I’m probably going to adjust the color of the stitching so it stands out more, and maybe decide on a hybrid type! I’m thinking coyote cause I think it’s a good personality fit and also they’re underrated and I love ✨💖scream puppies💖✨ but I’m going to wait until we have a more solid characterization before locking into a choice.

#dsmp #dream smp #eryn

13 notes · View notes

acatnamedpusheen · 4 years

Text

12:19 AM [M]

It started off slow, when you and him where cuddling in his bed. A few kisses here and there, gradually lead you to a heated make-out session. Younghyun was cupping your face while you had your arms over his shoulders, both of you now sitting on the bed. He was kissing you as if you were the most precious thing in the world - and to him you were. Soon, his tongue was at your lips, asking for your permission, which you granted- how could you deny it anyways? Tongues were dancing, fighting for dominance until you both were out of breath and had to pull away.

"You want this?" he asked you slightly panting, to which you nodded eagerly. Though it wasn't your first time, Younghyun would always ask for your consent, never taking it for granted. This was just one of the many ways he showed you the most sweet and romantic side of him.

He then slowly came close to you again and connected his lips with yours, right hand under your jaw. You didn't let this escalate into yet another make-out session, instead, you both took off your shirts. Younghyun was quick to start kissing your bare shoulders starting from your left side, until he reached the strap of your bra. He slid it of as he did with the other one and you turned around to sit with your back facing him so he could unclasp this ever so annoying item of clothing. Once it was off and thrown somewhere in the room, Younghyun got back to kissing your shoulders but this time his hands reached to your front and began massaging your breasts. A breathy moan escaped your lips as you leaned your head back to give him better access to your neck, chest already heaving while Younghyun sucked at your sweet spot, sure to leave a faint mark.

Moving to kiss your left shoulder, his right hand traveled downwards, sliding past your sweatpants and finding its place above your underwear making your core fire up. You let out another breathy moan, a little clearer than the previous one, as he started making circles with his middle finger on your clit. Younghyun's foreplay was always intense and you became more wet thinking that this is only the beginning, you were in for a long night and this time, it was all for you.

Gathering all the strength Younghyun had left in you, breath laboured, you decided to speak: "Shall we move on to the fun part?" you said, knowing that you wouldn't last long if he kept going like that.

"However you want, my love" he replied knowing he made you shiver every time he called you that. He only gave you this name in bed, during your most intimate times.

After getting rid of the last pieces of clothing you had on, you sat there totally bare in front of each other for a moment before embracing one another in a heated kiss. Your lips weren't separated as Younghyun laid you softly on the bed, climbing on top of you. He then started a trail of kisses from your lips, to your jawline, your neck, your collarbone- each one felt like he was lighting a fire on your skin. Reaching the valley of your breasts he stopped and looked at you - those eyes, his magnificent pair of dark eyes that made you think you were in a trance each time you looked at them. Wonderfully shaped, they held millions of galaxies in them.

"Let me treat you just a little more, Y/N. I promise, it won't take long" he told you waiting for your reassurance to continue his actions.

"Yes, Younghyun, do as you please, I'm all yours" you said as you placed your arms on his back urging him to go on with his plan.

He wasted no time, mouth on one nipple sucking, as his hand massaged your other breast, then switching. You moaned and felt your core pulsing intensely. After hearing what he was waiting for, Younghyun moved on, kissing all the way to your navel. He skipped the part were you needed him the most and began leaving open mouthed kisses on your left inner thigh and then the right. You felt his warm breath on your entrance which gave you goosebumps.

Moments like these with Younghyun were relatively silent, only a few words were exchanged between the two of you. Your moans and groans were enough to communicate the unparalleled feelings of your connection. Making love with Younghyun was a dialog between your bodies through your minds, not your words.

You exhaled loudly as his lips met your clit and then moaned as his tongue was flat against your entrance. His kitten licks at first earned several more moans from you, which got a bit louder when he skillfully began properly eating you out.

Just as you thought you would explode, he sensed you getting tense and stopped, coming all the way up to kiss your lips as he aligned himself with your entrance. He paused to glance at you once again -the most magical of all moments- then dipped his head in your neck, placing kisses as he entered you as slowly as he could, causing you both to moan in unison. When he bottomed out you sighed and he groaned.

"Give me one second please" you told him, voice shaking from the heightening of all your senses, needing a split moment to get used to the stretch.

"All the seconds in the world for you, my love" he reassured you and started kissing your neck lovingly to relax you.

After you told him you were okay, he began picking up his pace, keeping it slow and drawing it out as much as he could, groaning ever so often. You were both soon panting, a thin layer of sweat making your bodies glister. " Younghyun..." you moaned when he hit that specific spot and it sounded like music to his ears. You were as close as possible: his forearms right next to your shoulders, while you had your arms draped over his back. It didn't take long for you to start circling your hips to synchronise with his movements. Your climax was near, having built up from the foreplay, you knew it would hit you hard. Younghyun was close too, you felt it as he was going a bit faster, chasing his own high.

And it did hit you hard. Your climax seemed like an explosion, hundreds of fireworks, hundreds of colors that ended being all mixed to white, blurring your vision. "My god, Younghyun..." you moaned one last time breathlessly. "I love you Y/N..." he sighed while reaching his high.

As he helped you both ride out your orgasms, Younghyun's lips were back at yours and kept kissing you as he stilled inside you for a brief moment before separating your bodies. He came to lie next to you, both looking at the ceiling, trying to stabilise your breaths.

You two took a bath and came back to lie again on the bed, the time being something in the very early morning. He was just in his sweatpants, while he had given you one of his shirts to wear. Holding you close, he draped the covers over you and before he had drifted off to sleep you said softly: "I love you more than anything in the world, Younghyun"

"I love you too Y/N, I'll be by your side forever." he kissed your forehead and then you closed your eyes, letting yourselves get lost in the world of dreams.

(A/N: I wanted to write such a smut because having read everything here on tumblr, it seems like people these days tend to forget the difference between having sex and making love. Never forget consent and protection kids, even though I don't mention the second one here because smh it didn't match with the whole vibe... Peace out 👋✌)

#day6 #day6 imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 smut #youngk #youngk imagine #youngk scenarios #kang younghyun #youngk smut #day6 blurbs #youngk blurbs #day6 fanfic #youngk fanfic

161 notes · View notes

keyofjetwolf · 3 years

Text

Bonus Question Answers! (non-anime animated noms)

This was SO. FUCKING. HARD. This question went so much better than I expected, and I’m only sad I lack the artistic skills to make it all a reality.

Below, my PAINSTAKINGLY selected top answers, If yours is listed below, you’ve earned an entry in a random draw to win a GIFTENING liveblog OF YOUR CHOICE

---

Q: The Senshi suddenly find themselves in a very different animated world. Which cartoon power (think Looney Tunes) do they each now possess?

* Usagi can make literal rainbows happen when she smiles. Rei can set anything on fire with her mind (she feels a bit cheated because she can do that at home too). Ami can write down anything in her special notebook and it literally changes reality around her (she does not share this with her fellow Senshi, because she knows the full weight of this power. She did, however, write Michiru having a bad hair day for just one day. Just one.) Makoto has the ability to pull out any ingredient she wants from any pantry/door/closet. She usually uses this for cooking purposes, so she won't have to purchase groceries. Minako has the ability to mimic any voice in the world, whether she has heard it or not. Hijinks ensue. The Outer Senshi sensibly escaped from the new animated world right after Michiru recovered from her bad hair day. They don't speak of the experience. -- @amberlilly [The whole thing was so solid, but what absolutely sent it over the top for me was Ami using her powers to fuck with Michiru in the most petty benign way, which is EVERYTHING.]

* Usagi is definitely rocking the exaggerated tear gushers. Ami can pull charts/diagrams out of nowhere at any time. Rei combusts when she gets sufficiently mad. Makoto has birds fly around when she sings while cooking or cleaning. Minako breaks the fourth wall to make jokes and asides to the audience. Chibi-Usa is somehow able to walk through ludicrous danger without getting touched, because the censors won't allow kids to be hurt in this show. Haruka can make girls melt into puddles of goo with her flirting. Michiru can summon a servant at any time to take care of an unpleasant or potentially dirty task for her (including to take the slapstick comedy for her). Setsuna has access to the script. Hotaru just sort of appears sometimes, just standing there, silently and menacingly, but never does anything on-screen (though you may hear the occasional off-screen screaming). Oh, and while I'd like to say Mamoru gains the power of inexplicable entrances... he kinda already has that one. --Darkcloud k'California [Again, I loved all these, but particularly Chibs saved by the censors, Michiru’s poor hapless slapstick avatar, and everything about Hotaru, thank you.]

* Usagi: The power to be found charming by every character she encounters and somehow escape all consequences and damage by simply remaining oblivious, a la Tweety Bird.

Rei: The power to explode, reducing her surroundings to charred wasteland, but remain relatively unscathed (perhaps a bit singed)

Ami: The power to grow multiple arms, hands, and hundreds of fingers in order to do tech stuff

Makoto: The power to punch someone through a brick wall, possibly several, and into someone's family dinner. It's always some surprised-looking family's private event. Often the same family.

Minako: the power to, Bugs Bunny style, apply lipstick and seduce ANYTHING. Which, according to her, is a power she already has.

Haruka: The power to run off a cliff and keep going until she looks down. She never learns to not look down.

Michiru: The power to stick a pin into any other character and cause them to deflate like a balloon

Hotaru: She just gets to actually be used. It is thrilling.

Pluto: She will observe this strange planet from afar with her huge telescope and breathe the Martian air and look great in a kilt and Roman-style helmet. -- @incorrecttact [Your set-up and punchline delivery style on all of these was perfection, and I legit lol’d at Mako and the poor family she continually interrupts.]

* to make dynamite go BOOM (Rei obviously); to have their opponent chase them to the point where they're floating in midair and then their opponent falls 5000 feet but they calmly walk back to land (like Wil E Coyote & the Roadrunner) (Usagi); the power to blow kisses to their opponent (which are clearly poisonous and end up killing the chap) (Minako); the power to have their opponent's entire arm shattered if they try to even punch them lightly on the arm (Makoto - this is canon anyways, but moreso exaggerated here hehe); to open a book and start reading it out loud and words start showing up on screen, confusing tf out of their opponent (Ami - also canon already) --@midnightdrops [Each of these were great, but Usagi and Mako as you described them totally sold me.]

* usagi: can now float on yummy aromas, so long as they lead her somewhere tasty! the others play a quick tournament of jun-ken-pon each time it happens to determine who will be responsible for steering her from blissfully drifting into traffic. again.

ami: is now possessed of x-ray vision! only she can neither turn it off, nor control its intensity. she is working on developing a set of goggles to dampen the effect, and secretly hopes they will make her look like geordi laforge.

rei: rei-chan is now blessed with the power of song! her heartfelt melodies soften the malice of even the most one-dimensional baddie, and influence public policy on a global scale. international success life, yo! i guess she's really a hard worker!

makoto: has become something of a cartoon cupid! in a poorly-ventilated room, her mere presence has bystanders declaring their love for one another within minutes*; and her decadent wedding cakes are the hit of second marriages across the country. *all of them so like her old senpai, and none of them falling for her, alas!

minako: employs her considerable powers of confidence and charm to convince the others she now has access to Plot Manipulation, mainly by engineering and taking ownership of a series of happy accidents. her real power is to literally jump out of her skin when she's startled*, and she has no intention of EVER letting the others know about it. *minako discovered this new ability while she was changing a roll of toilet paper, and a spider dropped onto her hand. the leader of the inner senshi had never been so horrified. her bones were so slick and cold, her skin a hideous unwiped pile, and then THE SPIDER CRAWLED INTO THE PILE and she STILL doesn't know if it ever got out and sometimes her skin itches REALLY bad and you know what let's stop talking about this right now okay???

setsuna: can now manifest a giant pencil and erase the enemy! but doing so would be breaking The Greatest Taboo, and leave her impaled upon the pencil.

haruka: her new empathetic ability is remarkably similar to Ma-Ti's "heart" ring (Captain Planet and the Planeteers, 1990 - 1996). basically, she's just like really soft at you, and it inspires you to take more positive actions toward yourself and the world at large? she protests about wishing she'd received something tough and intimidating, but secretly is very moved by being made an instrument of kindness.

michiru: her intuition has mutated into fourth wall awareness, and the subtlety with which she makes this known to you is SO GODDAMN UNCOMFORTABLE OH MY GOD

hotaru: can now not only communicate with inanimate objects, but also render them permanently animate! you should have been there during the princess tutu crossover episode when she met lamp-chan - they're STILL inseparable, and chibiusa is SUPER jealous. speaking of which,

chibiusa: can now use hammerspace to store her endless series of magical geegaws and weird animal boyfriends. -- @rasiqra-revulva [Dude, you have got to stop making me snort laugh, it’s RUDE. Pure solid gold, every word, with a special nod to Haruka, MICHIRU, and Minako’s extended tragic cartoon backstory.]

* Usagi - like her name suggests, she is now Bunny. By which I mean she is now a very pink and blonde bunny (somewhere between Bugs and Oswald the Lucky Rabbit), but with super-elastic limbs to accompany her new form. Ami - Magical Science Powers up to and including ‘mix one brightly colored liquid in flask with another brightly colored liquid in flask, explosion, get hammer.’ Rei - An infinite supply of dynamite she can pull out of nowhere. This shouldn’t be as useful as it is. Mako - Literally suplexed a giant metallic youma not just untransformed, but before she has Senshi powers at all. I fully believe she could lift an anvil in canon. Minako - While Usagi looks like a rabbit, Mina now has the supernatural trickster abilities of Bugs Bunny. Implausibly effective bad disguises, persuasion, showing up out of nowhere. Chibs - Now that gun from her first appearance is a real gun, but it shoots anything from normal bullets to pies in the face to live birds. Pluto - The fourth wall is a real and tangible thing. Pluto can not just break it, but control it. If she wants to remove a layer of cel or suddenly turn things into sketch, she can do it. If she wants to teleport, she can skip in the animation. If she wants to suddenly appear as a Roger Rabbit-style cartoon in a live action field, or vice versa? Yeah, she can do that too. She basically uses this power to warp the layers of her cartoonish reality for pastry acquisition. Haruka - You’d think it would be Roadrunner speed. Haruka thinks it will be Roadrunner speed. But no, it isn’t. Space Jam is Looney Tunes, and Haruka’s power is Basketball. Michiru - Another power that’s just canonical: Wealth. Ridiculous, tremendous wealth. Hotaru - The funniest thing for Hotaru to be in a zany cartoon world is Even More Spooky. Nothing changes except the artstyle and a ridiculous supervillain cape. -- Regalli [Pluto, man. Fantastic and brilliant and I legit WANT THIS. Also though, Hotaru with a cape.]

* Usagi gains the ability to eat anything and everything like the Tazmanian Devil, though she shares none of his aggressive personality; Minako enjoys fucking with people by bending reality (you know, diving into painted tunnels and stuff like that); Ami is able to utilize and test unreal technology without harm, like jet boots, massive bombs, tornado seeds, etc.; Mako uses body manipulations to change her size and shape--especially for blocking attacks to protect people or grabbing people (coupled with her immense strength); and Rei is the only one aware of the audience beyond the Fourth Wall... She tries not to talk to them but sometimes she just can't help it, especially when Usagi is getting on her nerves. -- @thehubby [I said pander to me, and you absolutely did. I can’t stop thinking about Rei trying not to make fourth wall eye contact, then just whirling around all “CAN YOU FUCKING BELIEVE THIS SHIT??!?” and as it turns out, that IS precisely what I wanted.]

---

I’ll be drawing for the bonus liveblog around the start of THE GIFTENING 2020 (currently looking to be Monday, 11 January 2021). Each bonus question is another chance to earn an entry, so keep those answers coming! I CAN ABSOLUTELY AND SHAMELESSLY BE BOUGHT.

#THE GIFTENING 2020 #THE GIFTENING 2020 admin shit #THE GIFTENING 2020 bonus q

17 notes · View notes

ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 3 years

Text

Persephone Will Have Her Fill

Pairing: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: Here’s part two of my little hannigram verse. You should absolutely read the first part before you take a peak at this one. Word Count: 9.4K Warnings: There be some cannibalism and talk about killing. Oh, also - Will suffers from encephalitis, so there’s that, too! Summary:

After meeting the mysterious darkness that is Will Graham, Hannibal finds himself snared by the presence he brings into his life. When a question sparks up the need to truly be seen, Hannibal sets out to do just that. Earth-rocking realizations ensue.

Read on AO3 here.

“Have I ever seen any of your work?”

Looking up from the cutting board in front of him, the chef’s knife in his hand stalled through the rough chop he was treating the cilantro to. Hannibal took a second to draw in breath, then tilted his head – a contemplative look on his face.

“I’m surprised you haven’t pieced it all together already,” Hannibal replied smoothly, his body shifting to turn in Will’s direction. For a second, Hannibal let himself soak the other man in. His hands were covered in blood from the preparation of the organ on the butcher block in the middle of Hannibal’s kitchen. The man’s latest acquisition, a heart that would make great steaks for their dinner that evening, and then a lovely addition to a stew that blew Hannibal’s mind the last time Will shared it with him.

There were so many hidden components to Will Graham that Hannibal still didn’t completely grasp, but this one, the element that brought freedom and dropped the masks – Will flourished in it. The pinch of his shoulders eased and the fluid motion of hand to knife created art; a sort of relaxed talent that Hannibal only ever knew of himself before the whirlwind of Will swept into his life.

And, while they didn’t indulge the other in shared secrets of recipes and know-how in the kitchen, they each brought their own pieces to the game and let the innate connection between them bring about the result. The last few months of collaboration were some of Hannibal’s greatest culinary triumphs.

A coy smile directed Hannibal’s way brought him from his thoughts – the killer gleam in Will’s eyes reminding him of the existence of the wild animal the other man only barely kept at bay. He watched Will drop his knife, hands still covered in blood and viscera, and make his way directly into Hannibal’s space. There was a beat of shared breath, and then Will was suddenly behind him – his arm wrapping around Hannibal’s upper arms, pulling him until they were flush together, back to chest.

A blood stain in the shape of Will’s hand on the bicep of Hannibal’s shirt contrasted the stark white of the color – Will’s mark on him tangible in that moment in more ways than one.

The slightest height difference between them made it easy for Will to hook his chin over Hannibal’s shoulder, his lips already pressed delicately against the sensitive shell of his ear.

“I’ve thought about your design since the second I met you,” Will muttered, the words kissed into the soft skin just below Hannibal’s ear. “You’ve been killing most of your life – probably started young, caught the bug and had the talent to back it up. You’re knowledgeable in anatomy, so your dissections are precise. You only take what you need and use the rest to send your message.”

Each word felt like a direct hit to the walls in Hannibal’s mind. The palace that existed there, while generally untouched by outsiders, called out to Will. From the day they met, Hannibal felt himself making expansions, rooms being added on in an attempt to fit Will Graham’s infiltration.

“What I can’t decide on, though,” Will continued, the hand not gripping Hannibal already drifting down svelte sides until it settled on the middle of a trim stomach, “is whether you make a grandiose display, or not. You already play with your food, but do you reconstruct it, too?” There was another shift, Will practically plastering himself to every part of Hannibal he could reach.

Hannibal, unable to resist the temptation of the delectable heat behind him, pressed back, his right hand reaching up to grab onto Will’s forearm. In this position, he could feel warm breaths against his neck and the gentle rise and fall of Will’s chest. Despite the topic of conversation, the rate of Will’s heart didn’t pick up – the lack of acceleration more thrilling than a flare of excitement would’ve been. Finding someone so similar to himself was disarming, and yet, Hannibal didn’t know what he might do without it now that he understood the taste. His palette was redefined, covered and shaped by his darkness and its interaction with Will’s.

“And now? After getting to know me – what do you see?” Hannibal questioned, his back pressing more firmly against Will’s chest. The thickness of Will’s erection was there against his back, heat and want adding to the odd intensity they found themselves in.

A nip to the neck tore a sigh from Hannibal’s throat, the answer to Will’s interest now smashed up against the zipper of his pants – the well-tailored suit slacks for once a nuisance, hindering his pleasure. Not usually so submissive, Hannibal fought against the urge to turn around and pin Will to the counter – these moments where Will shed the façade were few and far between. These interactions acted as gates opening to the empathetic mystery.

Will’s hand on his cheek had Hannibal turning his head, their lips joining in a warm kiss. He could feel the patches of Will’s hand that were still wet with blood – the liquid smearing wherever work-rough hands touched. The scent of copper and sweat were prominent in the space between them; an aphrodisiac if Hannibal ever knew one.

Tongues tangled in a desperate attempt to draw something from each other. When Will kissed, or touched, or even looked – the air went a little thin and every part of Hannibal was on display. Empathy or not, Will’s ability to look past the heavy walls and see within was unmatched and equal parts confusing and tranquil in its own right.

Parting for air became necessary – in their tussle to be as close as possible, Will pressed him hard against the counter. There was no space between their chests, no room to draw in a breath, even if he wanted to. Hannibal used his extra weight to lean forward, effectively cutting their kiss off. His chest heaved, and with every pulsing beat, Hannibal felt his cock throb – the timing of it eerily close to the pace of Will’s huffed out breaths.

Sure hands were quick to grab onto him again, Will used his leverage to turn Hannibal around – the two men practically nose to nose. The easy way Will stripped him down to this person that just did what was prompted, it was disarming and intoxicating all at once.

Those same hands were cupping his face then, Will’s thumb lightly running across Hannibal’s bottom lip. Will took his time looking Hannibal over, the tender brush of the man’s empathy caressing his skin. “I think you’re an artist, Hannibal. Sometimes you like the audience,” Will peppered kisses around the skin of his mouth as he spoke, “and sometimes, you keep your brutality all to yourself. I’m willing to bet that several names in the media over the last few years apply to you.”

“Such a clever boy you are, Will,” Hannibal said in reply, both hands wrapping around Will’s hips. “My most recent hunts have been underground, but one day – very soon, you’ll truly see me.” There was a soft breath shared, and then their lips were upon each other again.

It didn’t take but a few steps to get down the hall and into the study – the idea of walking up the stairs completely out of the question. In their time together, Hannibal was quick to understand that the physical urge to own and connect would come whenever and wherever it wanted. Will carried chaos with him and used it to his advantage – his impulsive, yet completely strategic actions were off putting and wild – absolutely delicious in its juxtaposition. Each of the rooms in his house now stored lube in at least one of its drawers.

There was only so much expensive olive oil Hannibal could let go to the cause.

Hands fumbled to rid bodies of clothing while trying to keep the tension of lip on lip. Hannibal made quick work of Will’s blue and green flannel; his fingers nimble on the buttons. A gasp left Will’s lips when fingers made their first touch on bare skin – an entire army of gooseflesh overtaking the sensitive flesh.

By the time they made it into the study, Will’s pants were hanging open, the belt flapping wildly with every movement. Hannibal, on the other hand, still wore his waistcoat and shirt, both of which were unbuttoned, yet hanging off his shoulders. His cock pressed ruthlessly against the seam of his dress pants, and every part of him ached to have Will in any way on offer.

Huffing out an exasperate breath, Will stepped back from their embrace. He made quick work of the clothes that still clung to him, his cock slapping his belly obscenely as the last layer fell to the ground. His eyes were ablaze, the usual blue of them completely overtaken by the lusty black that made Hannibal think of paranormal beings – beautiful little monsters with dark eyes and so many tricks under their sleeves.

“Have I told you how much I dislike all the layers you wear? While sexy, the suit takes so damn long to get off,” Will grumbled, his tongue dragging over his bottom lip. “I’m not patient enough right now, either.”

As he spoke, Will climbed onto the couch, his forearms settling against the armrest – the rest of his body a delicious temptation. Knowing how good he looked, Will glanced over his shoulder, a devilish glint in his eyes. He didn’t need to say anything, either – he simply maintained eye contact and reached behind himself, deft, coppery red fingers prying his ass cheeks apart; the cherry pink of his hole on provocative display.

“Take it off, Hannibal – or don’t. Just get over here and fuck me.”

Unable to think any further than that request, Hannibal shrugged off his waistcoat and practically dove onto the couch behind Will. He let his eyes roam over every inch of Will he could before impatient hips pressed back against him. The string between divine and desperate constantly hung in the balance – Hannibal frequently forgot the things he learned over the years; control and patience no longer existing.

Ducking between the delectable spread that was Will in that moment, Hannibal allowed himself to take in a long breath. The earthy musk sat in the back of his nose – his senses overcome with how manly and right the scent registered to be. It was a catalyst, the final notes of reign over himself falling as he tucked in and let the entire expanse of his tongue press against Will’s most intimate spot.

Like a man starving, Hannibal set about claiming his prize. He started with small licks around the rim, Will’s muscles already starting to relax under such simple ministrations. The first taste drove him mad with hunger, his tongue flattening after the first few teasing brushes to press more insistently against the still tight pucker. Pushing Will’s hands away, Hannibal took over the job of spreading supple cheeks, his longer fingers pushed into the flesh. Wanting more width, Hannibal shifted, practically yanking the globes even further apart.

The pleasure-pain of it tore a growl from Will’s lips, the man pressing his hips back against Hannibal’s face roughly in retaliation. Though he could see the redness start to overtake skin, Hannibal continued on – he felt familiar enough with Will’s interests to know that his counterpart appreciated the heat of pain just as much as delicate pleasure.

An abundance of spit both on Will’s skin and around Hannibal’s mouth and chin made the whole process easier – the point of his tongue and the tip of a rogue finger were easily admitted access. Little by little, Will loosened around him. Hannibal’s ministrations, like the rest of him, were precise – dealt with the intention of taking Will to pieces. Yet, Hannibal felt like he was the one falling apart; every rough touch and drawn out moan felt like a hit straight to the soul.

No one – not even Mischa, laid Hannibal so bare to the world. Especially with something as simple as a well-placed look or cleverly worded demand.

Only Will.

Groaning at the thought, Hannibal pulled back, a hand coming up to wipe away some of the moisture from his face. His chest was heaving, the cardiovascular system within him used to heavy lifting, not marathon tongue fucking.

The small gap in movement and Hannibal’s preoccupation was just enough for Will to once again take control of the situation. Where he was splayed against the side of the couch just moments before, Will was now facing Hannibal, his eyes alight.

Strong hands pushed against Hannibal’s shoulders until his own back was resting against the opposite arm rest, his long legs stretched across the entire length of the couch. Will settled into his lap nicely – strong thighs bracketed Hannibal’s, each clench and pulse of muscle bringing them closer, magnifying the feeling of touch and stimulus. Hannibal didn’t even have his pants off, yet, he felt just inches from the delirious cusp of that little death.

Hannibal watched with a contained awe as Will reached for the end table drawer – his brain was so strung out, he completely forgot that lube existed there. The soft slam of it being closed snapped him out of his haze. Hannibal tried to make quick work of getting his pants open – though, was quickly thwarted by Will, who merely let him get the zipper down before he was reaching in and grabbing Hannibal’s cock without any sort of finesse.

Will impatiently opened the lube and poured a decent amount directly onto Hannibal’s length – his teeth gritting against the cold of it. Fingers followed the flow. Will’s hand wrapping around the girth of him brought sharp canines down into a kiss swollen lip – Hannibal never had to fight so hard with the quick to cum trigger reflex that attempted to fail him right that instant. Fingers were tight around him for too short a time; instead, they trailed from his swollen flesh and found their way to Will’s hole, the man fingering himself open just enough to spread the slick.

Before Hannibal took his next breath, or had a second to find some control, Will lowered himself onto Hannibal’s rigid cock – their joint pants of exertion sounding around the room, overtaking the entire space. In an attempt to stop himself from finishing right that very second, Hannibal gripped Will’s hips tightly – his fingernails digging into the skin there, each one drawing up little welts of blood; Hannibal’s mark visible now, too.

“Fuck, Will – don’t move. Please,” Hannibal mumbled, his forehead resting against Will’s breastbone, his chest heaving with short, abortive breaths.

The slightest roll of hips was Hannibal’s answer – Will adjusting their position to better fit his own comfort.

While more movement did not follow, the filthiest words did, instead. With his hands gripping either side of Hannibal’s neck, Will used his leverage to tilt Hannibal’s head up until they were looking eye to eye.

“You look good like this – completely undone. Your clothes are less than immaculate, there’s wrinkles and sweat stains. Your pants are barely open and, in this moment, there’s nothing that could get you to care any less about it. I wonder what you would say if you saw yourself – splayed open like the pigs we hunt, looking at me like I’m both judge and executioner. Do you think you would like what you saw?”

Biting down hard on his lip, Hannibal fought each second to keep their eye contact – the words were delicious, and so eerily on point. Nodding his head seemed to be the best course of action – words were failing him, his brain short circuiting one neuron at a time.

How did Will get to the very core of him? With all things considered, Hannibal constructed walls that no one else came close to touching, let alone blowing apart the way Will seemed to. It felt like losing himself in a way – giving up those pieces to be cared for by this beautiful monster of a man.

Sensing Hannibal’s dilemma, Will started to move his hips in earnest. His rhythm a perfect distraction. There was a subtle roll down Hannibal’s length, then a powerful drive up until only the tip occupied space. Up and down, over and over – Will drove him closer to a new kind of insanity. This one would take everything from him; mind, body, soul – even the heart that didn’t seem to exist until the murderous temptation that Will embodied walked so easily into his life.

For a few exquisite minutes, Hannibal clenched Will’s hips tightly in his hands while the man worked him over. At one point, Hannibal wondered if Will got off more on the power, than the actual physical closeness – but, a particular hard drive into the man’s prostate made the answer obvious. Power over Hannibal drew him to madness. The power of Hannibal’s body and the pleasure he could achieve from it – that gave him strength.

“Don’t hold back anymore, Hannibal. I want you to own me,” Will whispered against raw lips.

With the permission to do so, Hannibal surged up – their barely there kisses turning into something brutal as his grip tightened on Will’s hips, his own finally breaking free of the self-induced confines to pound ruthless up and into the tightest heat ever experienced.

He felt wild and completely undone – his being only used to this adrenaline pumping feeling after the satisfaction of a hunt well done. It was crazy to be so unleashed, and yet, Hannibal let himself go, anyway; what Will wanted, he got.

When finality became something he could no longer hold back, Hannibal leaned forward and dug his teeth into Will’s shoulder – his teeth marks from previous encounters still there, getting deeper and more defined by the bite. He clenched his jaw down and with the skin still between his teeth, came harder than ever before (which was saying something, because sex with Will was always an adventure). The rhythmic pulse and flutter around his length signaled Will’s jump over the cliff edge with him.

Sticky cum in the space between their chests seemed pedestrian after such a connection. Physical representation of their joining didn’t matter – the mental connection overwhelmed it all.

The come down a few minutes later consisted of blood in his mouth, long drawn in breaths, and the feeling of Will’s palms on his cheeks. It felt like too much effort to fight anything from that point on, so he leaned back, his eyes catching Will’s. Their shared look made his stomach clench – the overwhelming feeling of being taken apart more alive in that moment than their entire coupling.

“Will – “ Hannibal tried to say, his voice so thick and scratchy from pulled out moans, new feelings, and heavy sighs.

Will’s thumbs brushed chiseled cheekbones, the flat of his fingers settling on the edge of Hannibal’s square jaw. “Shh,” he said in reply, their lips joining for a surprisingly soft kiss. “I know – me too.”

----

After that night, something shifted. For so long, Hannibal conducted himself as a solitary creature – life was simpler when his plans consisted of his own wants and desires. Even after meeting Will initially, Hannibal figured things would stay separate – work, play, and the occasional murder taking up their own sphere in his life. The sudden realization that neither he, nor Will, wanted any sort of separation, was monumental. In almost fifty years, Hannibal never saw something like this coming.

With the addition of Will in mind, Hannibal went about planning his next tableau. The Ripper hadn’t made an appearance in a while and his sounders were due. Will understood what it meant to take someone’s life – their shared desire to see the light in someone’s eyes fade was apparent. And yet, Will chose to elevate his prey by making them into meals that anyone would drool over.

In his own experience, Hannibal appreciated the consumption of his victims because of the control it gave him – they weren’t worthy of anything in life and as their flesh passed his lips, their sole source of meaning was to feed him, to nourish him – to provide the needed macro and micro nutrients that were essential to life.

Even still, The Ripper’s message took things a step further. The elevation of murder into widespread art truly spoke of Hannibal’s innermost feelings. Most people were beneath him and their only redeemable quality was their ability to be changed into priceless beauty. In his attempt to boost the lowest of low, Hannibal found himself – power of the hammer and all.

If anyone were to truly understand him and the tangible personification of his darkest and most intimate thoughts, Will Graham continuously proved he could be that person. With eyes that already saw so much, Will simply needed a nudge to truly see Hannibal – in every way.

Though completely terrifying, the thought brought about a new sort of excitement, too. To truly be seen and understood – Hannibal never even fathomed the occurrence. Living outside the confines of society came at a price, and no matter how many people graced his dinner table or laughed at his well-timed jokes, a divide between him and them existed. People turned a blind eye to what they didn’t want to see – it was easier to ignore the things in front of them than genuinely accept inferiority.

Will, though – he gripped the chains of normalcy and broke them between his fingers. Still trying to piece together the extent of his empathy, Hannibal didn’t quite know the complete depth of Will’s ability to truly see. In the same breath, Hannibal swore that he could feel the intensity of the unique gift in everything Will did. While Hannibal wore a finely tailored person suit, Will used his ability to become the things people revered and those they feared whole heartedly – so simply, with just the roll of his shoulders and a long, deep breath.

The Ripper deserved the right audience and finally, after so much time of not knowing how much he truly wanted the echoing applause, Hannibal found someone worthy of it.

Planning such a grandiose thing took time. For weeks, Hannibal went about everything as usual. On the nights that Will cooked late, Hannibal made the trip out to Wolf Trapp – his Bentley eating up the miles with relative ease. Winston, who took a liking to Hannibal immediately (he was sure the freshly made sausage had a lot to do with that), expected play time and pets before Hannibal could even think about joining Will in the kitchen.

The weekends, however, those belonged to Hannibal. Unless otherwise occupied with a last-minute client, Will spent both days in the glorious confines of Hannibal’s fancy brick and mortar. Most of that time, admittedly, was spent in the kitchen – Will’s passion for food (and not just that of the human variety) kept things interesting. There was always a new knife technique to try or a rare ingredient to add to the mundane. When they weren’t cooking away, or eating their weight in their creations, both men simply existed together.

Will let Hannibal sketch him in whatever way requested, and in return, Hannibal brushed his fingers through Will’s hair as he perused cookbooks and academic articles. A give and take existed that shouldn’t – not between two very peculiar men who took to murdering others as a hobby. And yet, Will kissed him goodbye when Hannibal mentioned something about hunting on his way out the door. Picture perfect domestic bliss.

One particular weekend a few months after falling into such a routine, Hannibal convinced Will to join him at the opera. After weeks of preparation and recognizance, he finally felt ready to reveal his most coveted persona to the man that quickly became the most important part of Hannibal’s existence. Why not make a night of it?

As usual, they made dinner together – Will’s latest victim’s kidney made for a delicious steak and kidney pie. The crust was buttery and flaky, rolled thin to perfection. When it came out of the oven, Will preened at the proud look on Hannibal’s face.

“Looks amazing, Chef,” Hannibal complimented, his fingers already twitching to scoop a fork into the molten confines of golden pastry.

Will continued to beam as the table was set and Hannibal, in all of his unselfish glory, handed over the serving spoon. Despite being the one to take the lead on most of their meals, Will gave the dishing out honor to Hannibal – even at his own table. There was a power dynamic that existed, and each man understood their role.

Will sent him a genuinely intrigued look, his eyebrow lifting. Instead of questioning, however, he simply gripped the utensil and went about portioning out their meal.

They made small talk throughout the devouring of their joint efforts – Hannibal spoke of his latest client’s swiftly developing obsession with him and watched delightedly as Will grew more menacing by the second. Franklyn never stood a chance, but the opportunity to push at Will’s boundaries wasn’t something he wanted to pass up. Jealousy, though such a base emotion, could lead a person astray very quickly. For the first time, Hannibal wanted the tenacity and rage that came with the juggling act. Someone he craved wanted him just as much and would fight tooth and nail to keep it that way.

And though not entirely thrilled to be amongst the masses in a “penguin suit”, Will cleaned up nicely – the tailored tuxedo was midnight black, enhanced with a single, dark pinstripe down the side of each pant leg. He finished the look with a stark white shirt and black bow tie – elegant and simple, yet dangerous at the same time.

Finishing up his own look, Hannibal retreated from his walk-in to find Will casually seated on the edge of the bed. Merely lounging there, he looked absolutely exquisite.

His eyes were closed and for a moment, Hannibal wondered if he were asleep sitting up. He cleared his throat in an attempt to rouse Will, his long legs carrying him until there was only a couple of inches separating them.

Blue eyes blinked open slowly, a faraway look overtaking Will’s face before finally registered Hannibal’s presence.

“Are you feeling alright?” Hannibal asked, concern heavy in his voice. He reached to press a hand to Will’s forehead and found the skin there warm, the slightest bit of moisture sitting just barely on the surface. All tell-tale signs of an oncoming fever.

Reaching up to grab Hannibal’s hand and lacing their fingers together tightly, Will attempted a smile – the man’s mask not as secure as usual.

“I’m fine – just a bit of a headache. I haven’t been sleeping very well the last few nights, so it’s probably just some fatigue.” While he spoke, Will got up from the bed, his persona shifting with a soft roll of his shoulders. Now cognizant, the process came easily. His eyes were already a little clearer and any sort of weakness that existed in seconds before, was completely gone. Will Graham, the unsuspecting chef, Hannibal’s partner, stood in front of him once more.

“Are you finally ready?” Will asked, an eyebrow quirking.

Shaking the worry off, Hannibal grinned at the cheeky question. In their time together, certain habits made themselves known. Will drooled when in deep sleep and didn’t always pick up his wet towels. And while completely put together outside of the walls of his room, Hannibal was fussy and took a lot of time to get ready – the construction of his person suit more time consuming and labor intensive than Will’s would ever be.

“Snarky thing,” Hannibal immediately remarked. He pressed forward to press a chaste kiss to Will’s forehead. “Let’s go, darling. I have something for you after the show and am suddenly impatient to gift it.”

Will’s simple nod brought a brief surge of panic to his chest, but he quickly brushed it off. Though not the reaction he thought he’d get, the line of sweat still painting Will’s brow reminded him of the blurriness he encountered just moments before.

Leaning in again, Hannibal tucked his nose into Will’s neck and took a deep breath. Apart from the normal smells of bergamot, vanilla, and the slightest bit of wet dog, Hannibal scented something warm and sweet – the rising fever in the other’s skin taking on the body of over-ripened fruit.

He was met with the same intrigued look from their time at the dinner table when he pulled back. In an instant, Hannibal suddenly realized that was Will’s way of expressing his curiousness. Will usually pieced together the situation before it happened and reacted accordingly. Most people broadcasted their thoughts and feelings unconsciously, and Will’s intelligence made it easy to fill in the blanks. Hannibal, however, kept things locked tight – meticulous thought and effort went into making sure people received the exact message he wanted them to.

Though completely disarming himself, Will found a peculiar sort of mystery in Hannibal – the appeal of the unknown one of the things Hannibal could easily tell attracted Will to him so holistically. Like the true predator he was, Will enjoyed the chase. One that they both knew would probably never dull with the lifestyle they both kept.

The realization made his heart drum rapidly; love never took on a definition before, but in that moment, Hannibal finally understood. How interesting the realization came barreling towards him so out of the blue, yet so naturally. Like companionship – love didn’t ever seem like an option.

A soft touch on his cheek brought Hannibal back to the room – he blinked quickly, smiling to cover up the absentmindedness. The same curious look was on Will’s face, eyes never leaving Hannibal’s.

“Are you okay?” Will asked, his other hand pressing against Hannibal’s chest. “We might be late if we don’t go soon.”

That was all Hannibal needed to get back into gear – they made quick work of getting into jackets and climbing into the car. Hannibal held the door open for Will and before he could sit down, pressed a kiss to his lips.

“You don’t have to butter me up – I’m already in the tux.” The words came out of his mouth, yet Will couldn’t hide the blush on his cheeks or the duck of his head.

The drive over was uneventful – there wasn’t any talking, but the soft tones of Mozart kept the atmosphere calm and serene. Will’s hand landed on Hannibal’s thigh halfway to the venue – Hannibal dragged his bottom lip between his teeth to stop the megawatt smile from overtaking his face. Instead, he wrapped Will’s hand up with his own, their fingers tangling effortlessly.

Out of all the reasons why Hannibal donated to the arts, the preferred parking had to be one of the best among them. He pulled into his designated space a while later and shot will a playful wink.

Will snorted, his head shaking – “pretentious prick.”

They arrived just in time to schmooze for a few minutes before having to take their seats – a fact that Hannibal was over the moon about. Through months of dating, he never got the opportunity to show Will off. Aside from the fact that the man shone with impressive energy, Hannibal selfishly wanted everyone to see who he managed to attract; a very special man came into his life and despite it all, chose to stand proudly by his side.

With a soft kiss to Will’s cheek, Hannibal gestured to the bar. “I’m going to grab us a drink. I’d like to introduce you to a few people, if you’re not opposed.”

“I don’t mind – you’ve been dying to show me off for ages. I’m surprised you were able to wait this long,” Will retorted, a look of absolute knowing on his face. He casually slipped his hands into his pockets, the needed mask for the occasion slipping into place. “You know where to find me.”

Turning, Hannibal glided easily to the bar, ordering the same vintage chardonnay he always did and a whiskey neat for Will. The bartender recognized him immediately, the gold membership card that sat in his breast pocket unneeded.

“I’ll put it on your tab, Doctor Lecter.”

“Thank you, Tyler. It’s a pleasure, as always.” He saluted the younger man with the drinks in his hand and set off to find Will.

Without even having to try, Will drew people to him. The ever-curious Mrs. Ellen Komeda stood proudly in front of his beau, her eyes cataloguing him sharply. In a lot of ways, the two of them were very similar. Where Ellen lacked the empathy, she made up for it in pure grit and tenacity. She could read a room because she knew just about everyone and everything in it. Someone like Will, a gorgeous outsider, more than likely called to her from the moment she saw him.

“Where have you been hiding this one, Hannibal? He’s an absolute delight,” Ellen remarked the second he was within conversing distance. She eyed him up, then nodded approvingly.

Handing Will his drink, Hannibal let his now free hand wrap around Will’s waist. A moment existed where he thought Will might tense up, but he simply leaned in closer – the doting boyfriend act both natural and highly manipulative. What a delightful boy.

“We’re both busy men. Will here is the mastermind behind that delectable pate from my last dinner party.” The pride he felt carried over in his voice – people knew how Hannibal felt about food; the compliment held a lot of weight.

From the surprise on Ellen’s face, she too understood the sentiment.

“That’s high praise indeed. When I didn’t see you still wrapped in your apron when I arrived, I should have figured something was up.” She turned to Will then, her smile challenging. “Tell me Will, how did you charm the good doctor so?”

Seemingly unable to stop himself, Will chuckled, then pressed himself closer to Hannibal. “I bumped into him in a gourmet cheese shop. My refined palette was the major selling point.”

Before anyone else could say anything, a gentleman making his way into their little group stopped the conversation in its tracks. Hannibal watched Will’s eyes flash, the other man’s arm tightening around him. It was a minute reaction but telling all the same. He pulled at the seams of his person suit, the edges tightening up imperceptibly.

Luckily, Ellen saved them all, her social graces without fail. “Mr. Bowerman, it’s been some time since I last saw you at the opera.” Her mouth quirked as she spoke, like the words were bent nails in her mouth.

“Yes, well – since my wife’s passing, getting out to these fancy shindigs isn’t nearly as fun.” He took a long sip of his drink, his eyes shifting to Hannibal, only to linger on Will a second later.

“Walter Bowerman,” the man announced. The words were spoken into the open nothingness of the air, but his eyes – they were glued to Will.

A rush of murderous rage ran down Hannibal’s spine, his nostrils flaring.

Will didn’t miss a beat though, the brilliant boy he was. Tossing back his drink, Will waved the empty glass at the newcomer, a neutral look on his face. “Walter.” The single word was dismissive, only to be aided with a subtle turn of his body. He flashed a smile at Mrs. Komeda next, his expression softening slightly. “Ellen, it was glorious to meet you. Have Hannibal pass on my information – I’d love to cook for you some time.”

Understanding without any further prompting, Hannibal bid them both an absent goodbye and let himself be led by Will. He watched blue eyes track down a waiter, where he deposited his glass before continuing towards the theater door.

There wasn’t a sound made until they were alone in Hannibal’s booth – Will’s face was sweaty again, eyes slightly hazy. “Is it common knowledge that Walter Bowerman killed his wife?” Will asked lightly, breaking the silence. He swiped at his brow, looking a little off kilter.

Thrown off by the bluntness of Will’s words, Hannibal tuned out everything but the question. A sliver of pride sat in his chest at the other’s deductive abilities – Hannibal instantly knew there was something off but wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly what. Will’s mind – it was a beautiful thing.

“Tonight happened to be the first time I’ve made his acquaintance – Ellen seemed put off, but I think the interruption to our conversation played a big part in that. You are very charming,” Hannibal admitted easily. Even he had been impressed.

“He got pleasure from mentioning his wife’s death. There was that murderous glint in his eye that just felt – wrong.” He moved to continue, but the stage lights flickered, and the heavy curtain started to pull back.

For a while, previous interactions fled from Hannibal’s mind – the mind-numbing drift a welcome gift after the stress of the evening. He let Will take his hand before the aria started, the touch the only anchor he wanted to the present. After a beat, the soprano opened her mouth and started to sing. Merely relaxing back, Hannibal let the music wash over him.

About halfway through the first act, a tightening grip on his hand brought Hannibal out of his mind space, a confused look on his face for a split second before it was quickly replaced by worry. Will’s face was covered in sweat and his chest seemed to be heaving, despite the dwindling awareness. He looked at Hannibal helplessly, mouth opening around unspoken pleas.

Finally, Will managed to grab ahold of himself for a second – his words a little slurred when he babbled out – “I think there’s something wrong.”

Acting quickly, Hannibal jumped out of his seat, suddenly glad for the privacy of his usual booth. Getting up wouldn’t disturb anyone, so there was room to get Will out however he needed. The man was cognizant enough to help Hannibal pull him out of the chair, but that only went as far as the hallway outside of their seats before Will went limp. The seizure that followed so nicely allowed Hannibal to get Will to the bathroom, the convulsions starting the second he got them pressed against the solid surface of the door.

His hands cupped Will’s cheeks, the grip of them strong to keep the back of his head from smacking against anything. Will’s eyes were open, but the pupils were completely blown – there was no focus or constriction whatsoever. Holding Will as tightly as possible, Hannibal rode out the storm.

When the shaking stopped, Hannibal counted out five minutes before Will came back around – his once slack body clenched all at once, fear and confusion flowing through him. “H-Hannibal?” Will chocked out, the syllables running together.

Bringing his face up to do a quick check of blue eyes, Hannibal let out a breath. There was finally some response in the dark pupils. He ran his thumbs softly over the apple of Will’s cheeks, maroon eyes roaming everywhere at once. “Are you with me, Will? You just had a seizure and you’re burning up. Can you hear me?”

“Hannibal?” Will questioned again, his chest heaving once more.

Unable to stop himself, Hannibal leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Will’s cheek – the contact just as much for him as it was for the confused man in his arms; an earthshattering need for comfort overwhelming. They needed to get out of there while Will was still upright and conscious. The increased heart rate and continued confusion meant there wasn’t much time left to do that.

Instead of forcing Will to respond anymore, Hannibal got them into a position where he could take most of Will’s weight – thankfully, Will was with it enough to walk with the help. The lobby was empty – an absence of sound appropriate to the situation at hand.

Being in the heart of downtown made getting to a hospital quick and easy. Every couple of minutes, Hannibal reached across the middle console to check on Will, his heart slamming into his chest in the scant seconds between touching and feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Though the seizures didn’t return, Will’s consciousness diminished with each passing second.

The Bentley skidded to a stop outside the emergency room doors, Hannibal hopping out in a fit of adrenaline – he threw open Will’s door to pick him up bridal style. There was a second where their eyes met, a brief connection before Will slumped into him, his fight with whatever was burning him up coming to a swift end.

----

It took two days for Will to completely regain consciousness.

Throughout those two days, Hannibal worried incessantly, sat by Will’s bedside, and didn’t think once about the tableau he set up that was probably discovered by the authorities, already.

Being so thorough in his work, Hannibal didn’t use a sing brain byte to dwell on it – there wasn’t any evidence. There never was.

After carrying Will into the ER in the most dramatic fashion as possible, the hustle and bustle of brain scans and medication deployment took up all the space in Hannibal’s mind. In the bouts of time that Will got swept away, Hannibal went home to shower and change; once, he made the trip out to Wolf Trapp to get Winston and clear out the remainder of Will’s fridge. No matter what happened, a hospital stay was in Will’s future. The least Hannibal could do was take care of his dog and make the already harvested meat into delicacies to be eaten when Will felt better.

Despite trying to keep busy with arrangements and appointment reschedules, the minutes between Will’s decent into unconsciousness and his waking were long and torturous. The encephalitis diagnosis made a lot of sense after thinking about Will’s behavior over the last few weeks. The increase of headaches and nightmares, a dwindling appetite, and large periods of losing track of time were all there pointing in brain swelling’s direction.

It was pure luck that Will’s body had such a severe reaction to the neurological change. If things were different, he might’ve dived very slowly into madness; both visual and auditory hallucinations were common symptoms of Will’s particular brand of encephalitis. The spike of fever came at just the right time – the majority of his treatment would be minimally invasive and able to be given outside of the hospital.

The most confusing part of the whole situation was Hannibal’s feelings towards it all. Of course, Will couldn’t help the fact that he thwarted plans that were many months in the making. Yet, the anger he figured would sit under his skin, waiting to erupt, didn’t exist. Instead, Hannibal felt the claws of worry drag along his back.

Every second that Will didn’t wake up, Hannibal dipped a little further into unease. Going fifty years without the look in Will’s eyes was one thing, but now that he knew – now that the feeling crept under his walls, there was no going back. How did he exist without the rambunctiousness and intelligence that accompanied the experience that was Will Graham?

His earlier thoughts about love came back to him with a not so delicate slam to the chest. The world felt like it was ending without the shine of Will’s personality surrounding him because of the love he felt for the man. And what a thought – being in love with a soul so similar to his own. The match they made was perfect and for many reasons, shouldn’t exist whatsoever. Yet, Hannibal could barely remember what life felt like without Will in it.

He didn’t want to, either.

When Will eventually completely came to, Hannibal had his forehead pressed against their joined hands – his eyes closed in a desperate attempt to escape to the happier rooms in his mind palace. It was getting more difficult to filter everything out, so the halls were more cluttered than usual. The immense distraction almost made him miss the gentle squeeze to his hand – Will’s fingers tightened around his own for the first time in more than fifty hours.

Sitting up, Hannibal didn’t have a chance to stop the affectionate smile from slipping across his lips. His chest felt a little lighter – Will’s eyes were the same shade of deep blue and shining just as brightly as he remembered. The glassy nature of them was to be expected, the physiological expression of symptoms a reassurance that the body was actively fighting. After what seemed like years of waiting and worrying, Hannibal found comfort in all of Will’s disarray, bed head and sleepy smiles included.

“Hannibal?” Will questioned softly, his voice hoarse and scratchy from being unused. Upon hearing it, Hannibal reached to press the nurse’s button to get Will some water – they would want to know he was awake, anyway.

“Will – I’m so glad to see you,” Hannibal admitted easily, his body ditching the chair to sit on the edge of Will’s bed. He craved the length of Will pressed against him, any sort of familiar weight, really. Just the sign that the man was alive and with him was more than enough.

Reaching up to brush a curl from Will’s forehead, Hannibal spoke up again. “It’s been a couple of days since you last opened your eyes. How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted,” Will mumbled immediately, his brows pinching together with every move as he adjusted. “You said two days? Did this happen at the opera? Hannibal, I’m – “

“Don’t even begin to apologize, Will. Your brain was on fire – the last thing I’m worried about is a subpar rendition of Don Giovanni.” There was a beat, then a subtle move forward to press lips to Will’s still clammy skin. “I’m relieved you’re going to be okay, Will. Everything else is moot.”

There wasn’t much talking after that – the exhaustion Will complained about took him under shortly after coming around. The nurses were able to document his stats and get a doctor in to see him before fatigue won out and Will became lost to sleep once again.

To occupy himself, Hannibal let his emotions run wild across the pages of his sketchpad. Despite being exhausted himself, sleep did not come. Memories and things yet to come crept through the halls of his mind – his hand manifesting them on the smooth paper at record breaking speed. With all of his energy drained, Will made the perfect model. Hannibal found himself able to get the man’s lips right for the first time he laid pencil to paper. Drawing his partner in a much happier state of being made coping a little easier – the smile he could replicate brought a warmth that Hannibal couldn’t admit he wanted with him at all times. Though, he so desperately did.

A hand on the top of his sketchbook brought him out of his artistic stupor. Hannibal moved quickly, sliding his fingers between Will’s before the hand could retreat, or suddenly disappear like he feared. The skin there was warm, but not scalding like the days previous. When their eyes met, the blue depth of Will’s seemed much clearer – like the rest was actually doing him some good.

“She looks like you,” Will said, turning his attention back to the sketch pad he reached for initially. “Who is she?”

The feeling of being exposed washed over him for a second, Hannibal pulling in a deep breath in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. A Thursday in the middle of the night wasn’t how he figured his past would come to light – dark news needed an ideal setting. And yet, what better way to break down the last wall between them?

“This is Mischa, my sister. Even after all these years, I’ve never been able to do her true justice,” Hannibal replied, his voice just steps away from melancholic. “She was this beautiful spirit – free and intense. Kind of like you, actually.” A soft smile overtook his features, the truth of that statement ringing in his ears.

No wonder.

Will’s hand tightened slightly, the fatigue keeping him weak in his touch. “Mischa – I like that. She’s beautiful. You both have that little curl in your nose.”

A laugh escaping Hannibal’s chest broke whatever tension remained – the depths of his chest finally clear. The days of worry and not-sleeping were catching up to him, and like it was so natural to do, Will cleaned the chaos up, his words sweeping out the cobwebs Hannibal let develop. Sucking in another long breath, Hannibal let that last bit of himself in hiding step out into the light.

There was another clear shift in the air between them then, the softness in Will’s eyes something that didn’t exist before that very moment. While so wrapped up in his own masks and Will’s ability to see through them, Will was sneakily putting himself up for display, too. Breaking down walls brought about a gentleness that didn’t befit ruthless murders, and yet – Will caressed Hannibal’s hand softly, the touch for comfort’s sake alone.

Without being prompted or asked, Will moved until a spot that maybe half of Hannibal could fit into appeared. Taking the offer for what it was, Hannibal dropped his sketch pad on the table, the pencil sitting lovingly over the cupid bow of Mischa’s lip. He climbed in, the two of them rearranging limbs until Hannibal’s arms were wrapped tightly around Will. It took a second to settle – then, sleep came quickly and kept them under for the rest of the night.

Will spent another two days in the hospital before Hannibal could convince the staff of his capabilities as a doctor. They were willing to release him after all of the intravenous drug administration was finished – the rest of Will’s recovery would be based around rest and recuperation, anyway.

There wasn’t any discussion about where Will would end up – the man simply climbed into Hannibal’s car, curled up in the passenger seat with his head in Hannibal’s lap, and slept on the trip back to Baltimore from the hospital. Hannibal made a quick trip home while Will sat in the MRI machine for the last time during his stay – both Winston and the kitchen were ready for Will’s arrival.

It took Will most of his energy to get from the car to the door, but when Winston came jogging around the corner, a burst of joy sent him two steps forward until he could easily wrap the dog warmly in his arms. The whispered “I missed you” into the dog’s fur more than making up for the hair on all the surfaces of the house.

When the reunion was over, Hannibal helped Will walk upstairs, the man already dead on his feet from just a couple of short encounters. That previously unnamed warmth took up space in Hannibal’s chest again – the overwhelming feeling of being so deliriously dedicated to another human being exhausting in its own right.

“I thought maybe you’d like to take a bath,” Hannibal said, his legs already carrying him towards the bathroom to start the water.

“Will you hold me, instead? I know I probably stink like hospital and it’s killing that nose of yours, but all I really want to do is be in your arms.”

Looking over his shoulder, Hannibal stopped in his tracks. There were no masks on Will’s face, in the moment, so raw and open. The man who stood before him was stripped bare and asking for something – when he usually did nothing of the sort. The warmth bubbled a little bit more, the intensity of it growing with every passing exchange. He didn’t need to think about what to do next – instead, he kicked off his shoes and went about turning the bed down.

Hannibal climbed in, reclining back against the nest of pillows. Though he figured he wouldn’t sleep, Hannibal was more than willing to simply sit and catalogue Will a little more. The replica in his mind palace wasn’t quite what he wanted, and the perusal of finer features was exactly what he needed to make the perfect rendering.

For a while, that’s how things went – Hannibal kept Will against his chest until the call of food preparation took precedence. It usually took all of Will’s energy to get downstairs to the table, so the first few meals were taken in bed.

Little by little, Will spent more time awake than asleep, the clarity of his thoughts returning as the days past. Surprisingly, the only thing that didn’t return was the mask Will wore. Maybe it was the lack of energy, or maybe – after all was said and done, there was no need for them anymore. Seeing and being seen – it did something to a person. Especially ones like Will and Hannibal.

Then, a Saturday morning two weeks after his diagnosis, Hannibal woke to the feeling of Will’s hands running down his chest and arms, nimble fingers pressing into skin, fingertips tracing and memorizing with every touch. Hannibal kept himself still, letting Will have whatever he wanted before the realization of having an audience occurred.

The rise and fall of Will’s chest sped up a little, his body heat rising for a much better reason than the earlier fever that ravaged him. Without meaning to, Hannibal shifted back into it – giving himself away in an instant.

“I know you’re awake,” Will mumbled against his spot on Hannibal’s neck, hips pressing forward ever so lightly.

Rolling over, Hannibal used the quick movement to pull Will under him, their bodies lining up from head to toe. Will’s legs opened just enough to allow Hannibal access to gap, the length of them wrapping around Hannibal’s hips in the next instant. There was a clench of muscle, then no space between them at all.

“I see you’re awake, too,” Hannibal whispered, his hips pressing down – erections grinding together with the barest of touches. “Are you feeling better?”

Hips pressing up for a longer drag of cock on cock was his only answer. Unable to ignore the call, Hannibal moved against him, the friction building there absolutely exquisite. They shifted and moved until their lips met and the oxygen in the room steadfastly escaped. Every pull of breath in was more of Will – more of his scent, more of his presence – more.

Though neither made any move to takes thing further along, Hannibal could feel the intimacy building up between them. It wasn’t so much about the heat of the physical, this particular moment more than just a sexual connection. Where Hannibal pulled, Will pushed – their hearts beating in tandem.

A crescendo didn’t carry them away – instead, a sort of peace overtook the room. The feeling so foreign that they looked and touched just to make sure the other existed – that after everything, the other was there and the affection that zinged between them wasn’t one sided. Two psychopaths falling in love was never on the top of anyone’s love story list, yet – it happened without either of them knowing.

When Hannibal pulled back this time, the words on the tip of his tongue, he let them fall effortlessly from his lips.

Brushing his nose against Will’s, Hannibal stayed close, the words “I love you” leaving his chest and sitting in the air. It felt odd and for half a second, he thought Will might not feel that way about him after all. The two, three, four beats of his heart before any sort of response were agonizing, both too short and much too long.

Those warms hands were there, though, Will’s palms cupping his cheeks and fingers digging into the longer hair around his temples. Their eyes met, maroon holding blue – and the worry melted away. No mask, after seeing past it, could hide the devotion existing in the ceaseless pools of gorgeous blue.

“I love you too, Hannibal.”

#hannigram #murder husbands #will graham/hannibal lecter #hannigram fanfic #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal fanfic #persephone will have her fill #bobbie writes #will graham #hannibal lecter

7 notes · View notes

recentanimenews · 4 years

Text

Made in Abyss: Dawn of the Deep Soul – Trials Make Love Stronger

I finished the first season of Made in Abyss three years and a week ago, commenting that while I ached to know what would happen next, a long rest was in order, so that I might recover from the emotional wounds throughout that first run, culminating in the shockingly brutal story of Mitty and Nanachi.

Turns out no amount of time would heal those wounds to the extent they wouldn’t be re-opened and—very soul freshly re-crushed—upon watching the continuation of the Abyss story. That’s because the deeper Riko, Reg, and Nanachi descend, the more acute and devastating the horrors they encounter.

This is the third of three Made in Abyss films; the first two were a retelling of the first season, while the third is a direct sequel As such, spoilers throughout.

Case in point: upon arriving at one of her mother’s favorite spots in all of the Abyss, the Garden of Flowers of Fortitude, they encounter one of Bondrewd’s delvers, the Umbra Hands, harvesting tissue from other delvers who have been infected by a parasite that not only feeds off you while you’re still alive, but feeds itself to you in order to keep you alive. Lovely!

Few anime do soaring vistas like Abyss, and there’s something just so otherworldly and dread-inducing about the sight of the Fifth Layer’s Sea of Corpses, along with Idofront, Bondrewd the Novel’s domain. But as cold and unyielding and inhospitable as the spinning ghost city seems on the outside, within resides one of the sweetest, warmest, most human souls they’ve yet encountered: an adorable little girl named Prushka.

Prushka is Bondrewd’s daughter (voiced by Minase Inori), who is initially suspicious of outsiders coming to help her dad when she thinks she should be enough. But once she meets Riko, Reg, and Nanachi, they open for her a whole new world of questions and information about the Surface (she was born in the Abyss).

It’s so strange to see Prushka acting so lovey-dovey with Bondrewd, perpetrator of countless acts of sickening biological crimes, especially since he and his Umbra Hands resemble evil robots. And yet that evil robot still has a strange gravitational pull Nanachi finds hard to resist. Nanachi can’t forgive Bondrewd, but something still draws them toward him. Nanachi was something of a child figure to him, after all, so Nanachi sees Prushka as a younger self.

Bondrewd has bad news for Riko: while she may have her mother’s White Whistle, only the person for whom the whistle was made can use it to activate the altar that will take her down to the Sixth Layer. He offers them accommodations to “think things over”, but there isn’t any doubt his intentions for them are about as far from harmless as they’re all far from the Surface.

Despite her cozy room, soon Riko wakes up alone, and upon exploring, finds that she’s trapped in a small area with the only exit being a stair Prushka warned will cause “strains of ascension” if climbed. When Riko attempts to climb them anyway, she loses all sense of touch and balance, grinds her baby molars away and falls down the stairs, gaining cuts here and there. But she hallucinates far worse: as the very concepts of what and where are gradually eaten away by white light.

Ultimately, the reason Bondrewd does anything all comes down to curiosity and the aspiration to reach the bottom of the Abyss and learn its infinite secrets, same as Riko. It’s just a matter of scope and scale. Riko has managed to retain her humanity throughout her descent. But while has the affable dad voice and general form of a man, there is simply nothing left of Bondrewd’s humanity.

After Nanachi offers to stay with him and help him continue his research in exchange for Riko and Reg’s safety, Bondrewd tells them that, uh, unfortunately, he’s already tossed Reg to his Umbra Hands, who restrain him, slice off his right arm (along with Incinerator) and start collecting his bodily fluids. That’s when Riko, who was helped up to the upper level by Prushka, intervenes, and Prushka learns the truth about her father for the first time.

With Bondrewd showing his true horrific colors loudly and proudly, Nanachi, the most experienced with how he operates, comes up with a plan to take him out. This involves luring him into a nest of giant seven-tailed scorpions, trying to infect him with parasite larvae, and finally Reg crushing his body with a giant boulder.

Naturally, Bondrewd praises both Reg and Nanachi every time they toss a new tactic at him, saying things like “wonderful” and “I’m surprised.” After all, Nanachi is one of the creations of which of which he is most proud, one who unlike Mitty and the others was able to receive the “Blessing” of the Abyss rather than fall victim to the Curse. You’d could mistake it for fatherly pride if, again, Bondrewd had a shred of humanity. But his willingness to offer love and pain and suffering in equal measure disqualifies him as both from being either a parent or a human.

None of the tactics against him end up working, because the Umbra Hand who escorted Prushka simply takes the mask off of the crushed Bondrewd and places it on his head, thus transforming into a new, untouched Bondrewd. Turns out all of his Umbra Hands are him—and his immortality is tied to a relic called Zoaholic. The fight ends for now, and Bondrewd returns home with Prushka.

If Zoaholic didn’t make Bondrewd insane, the act of splitting his soul and essence into multiple bodies still removed what was left of his empathy or humanity, which is why he ends up having Prushka cruelly vivisected just like all of the other orphan children before her. He’s satisfied her experiences with Reg, Riko, and Nanachi helped “perfect” her, and this is the natural next step. She is never told this would happen, and never asked if it’s okay.

Her body is marked with “X’s” to signify the parts that will be cut away and discarded (most of it) until all that is left is a mass of “fleshy curse repellant” to be placed within a suitcase-sized cartridge. It is in this way that Bondrewd staves off the curse; using the pain and suffering of still technically-living children as his strength.

It’s truly skin-crawling, horrible, horrible stuff, and even though I had a reasonable suspicion that Prushka was doomed to a Mitty-like fate, I was still not ready to see even a little of that fate carried out, nor would I ever be. No one would!

By the Riko, Reg, and Nanachi return to Idofront to rescue her they’re way too late, while the sight of the “processing” room brings back Nanachi’s memories of assisting with said processing. When Bondrewd arrives, Riko and Nanachi they buy time for Reg, who hooks himself up to Idofront’s power supply and ends up rebooting in Berserk Mode.

Bondrewd tells Riko that his own White Whistle is the result of sacrificing his own body and soul, and that all White Whistles are made in this way—with a willing human sacrifice, not carved stone.

It’s then when Berserk-Reg arrives and fights on the same level as Bondrewd, ultimately blasting a huge sphere-shaped chunk out of Idofront. He lands in a pit of Mittys—material for Bondrewd’s cartridges, and we’re reminded of all those lights on the wall representing their lives are labeled: he remembers the name of every child, their unique qualities, and how cute they were. Shudder…

As Bondrewd and Reg are locked in an epic battle, we hear Prushka’s disembodied voice as she recounts her life with Bondrewd, starting as a failed subject. He decided to raise her as his daughter, gave her Meinya as a pet, and gave her a fun and happy childhood, ultimately culminating in her helplessly watching as pieces of her are removed one by one on the operating table.

We hear Prushka because she’s now a cartridge that Bondrewd is currently using in his fight, and ends up being his last cartridge. Even after what he did to her, she still wants to help her dad achieve his dreams—even if it means helping him fight against Reg, Riko, and Nanachi.

Thus aided by Bondrewd, Reg can’t defeat him with one arm, which is why he was buying time for Riko to retrieve his other arm. Even disconnected from his body, she’s able to aim it at Bondrewd and fire it, blasting him to pieces.

As this is happening, Prushka pleads with everyone not to fight, because they’re all going to have adventures together. An image of that dream appears in the climax of the battle, and is pretty much the most heartbreaking goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.

Then Bondrewd falls to the ground, finally beaten, and Nanachi stand over him. True to form, Bondrewd isn’t bitter about losing; on the contrary: he’s never been happier to find someone with stronger aspirations, will, and love defeat him. It means they, not him, are worthy of exploring the greater depths of the Abyss, and all the curses and blessings therein.

Riko holds the spent cartridge of what’s left of Prushka, simply red liquid that spills everywhere, and very understandably begins to bawl in absolute despair. But then she notices an object lying in the puddle of liquid: a White Whistle. Turns out Prushka’s soul willingly became the sacrifice necessary for Riko. Now her dream of going on adventures together can be realized.

With that, Riko gains the means to make her Last Dive, along with Reg (who learned a great deal about what his relic body can do) and Nanachi (who found a degree of closure in her vendetta with Bondrewd). Bondrewd, oddly enough, is still alive (after a fashion), but no longer a threat to them, and indeed is happy to see them off as they enter the “elevator” that will take them to the Sixth Layer, that much closer to Riko’s Mom, whatever’s become of her.

Quite appropriately, the end credits pull double duty as an illustration of that elevator descending ever deeper into the Abyss, accompanied by an achingly gorgeous song that is a collab between MYTH & ROID and Kevin Penkin. Penkin, of course, also contributed the score and outdoes himself in the task; his music has been and continues to be a vital piece of what makes Abyss so unique an special.

It doesn’t look like I’ll be able to end this in less than 1500 words, but whatever; this was basically four episodes of the anime comprising a Fifth Layer arc, enshrining Bondrewd the Novel as one of anime’s all-time most monstrous and compelling villains, exploring the ways ambition can mutate “love” into a heartlessly destructive force.

It also ably reinforced Abyss’ uncanny ability to tear its viewers’ hearts and souls to bloody shreds before painstakingly sewing them back together with delicate threads of hope. And with a second season in the early stages of production, the story of Riko, Reg, and Nanachi is far from over.

By: magicalchurlsukui

#Anime #News #RABUJOI – An Anime Blog

13 notes · View notes

micheleblack · 4 years

Text

I’d Tap That

WeakRevolution’s entry for #altober Day 8: Diagon Alley is a full one-shot fic, that’s so richly smutty and wonderful. But it is NC-17/Explicit. You have been warned.

@altobers-blog @clemandben @eleonorapoe

Tonight starts out like so many others before it.

James removes his robes quickly, cock already hard and tenting his boxers, before climbing onto the bed. He lies down on his back and spreads his legs. The needy look on his face propels Teddy to action and he pounces, pulling James in for a hungry kiss while removing the last of James's clothing. James's hands are all over Teddy, trying to rid him of the barrier, needing to feel the touch of skin, but Teddy has other plans. Pinning James’s hands above him, they kiss, swiping at each other’s tongue.

Teddy grinds himself down onto James, feeling the hard flesh through many layers of clothing. He sucks on James’s neck, leaving a bruise next to another faded hickey. James is so responsive tonight. Teddy continues the assault of sucking and teasing thrusts, waiting for James’s resolve to crack.

"Please," James begs, right on schedule, "more. I need more." His skin already looks flushed, the rosy color undiminished despite the number of times they'd been in a scenario similar to this.

Leaning down, Teddy swipes his tongue over the pre-cum glistening on James's tip. "You're positively leaking right now, babe. What's got into you tonight?" he asks before taking the whole length into his mouth.

"I'm- ahhh," James moans, hands gripping the sheets to keep from weaving into Teddy's beautiful blue locks. "N- ahh, n-no fair!" He takes a deep breath but the much needed air is lost as he lets out another loud moan. He goes quiet and the only sound in the room is that of Teddy's sucking and humming. A minute passes before James tries to speak again. "C-can't th-think-"

Teddy pulls back, giving his boyfriend a break while he enjoys how far gone James already looks. Nothing ever compares to the amazing sight of James Potter, hot, hard, and heaving for breath. "Well if you can't think, then just lie back and I'll take you on a journey. Sound good?" James responds with a whimper. Teddy chuckles to himself.

He gives the head of James's cock another lick, more pre-cum already collecting there in just the brief moment. "Since you're already leaking this much, I guess we'll start our journey at the Leaky."

James could do nothing but moan. He shuts his eyes and follows Teddy's every word.

“I’m not the type of wizard to stay in the Leaky Cauldron for long though. As fun as a pub can be“—he pauses to give James’s cock a few strokes, causing James to squirm and buck into his hand—“right now I’m more interested in the entrance to something more magical.” Teddy sits back on the bed and looks down at James. “Ready?” He loves seeing James like this, eyes already starting to cloud from lust. Loves the look of frustration when he pauses the lazy strokes along his cock.

“Yes!”

"I thought so. Be a good boy and help me work out the sequence that parts those cheeks, so I can see that beautiful sight,” Teddy says playfully. “I think I know where to start at least.” His hand takes hold of James’s sack and begins playing with his balls, rolling them between his fingers. The action draws another moan from James and his knees draw up just a bit. “That’s a start.”

“L-lick them,” James demands in a breathless voice.

Teddy is all too willing to get back down there. He first runs his nose along the soft skin around the orbs before taking the first one into his mouth. James’s knees rise and part above Teddy. For good measure, he runs his fingertips in the space just below James’s balls and pushes against the flesh. He knows that he’s found the spot when James’s jerks above him.

Satisfied, Teddy stops sucking on the ball in his mouth and splays his hands on each of the round and glorious ass cheeks in front of him, squeezing them tight. “I can see your alley, Jamie. Diagon Alley sure looks like a wonderful place. Wouldn’t you agree?”

James doesn’t say anything, but when Teddy looks up he can see James, eyes tightly shut, nodding. James isn’t usually this quiet, but things have never quite gone down this road before. He seems completely lost to Teddy’s words and actions that Teddy can’t help but keep things going.

“I know where I always go first. The ice cream parlour.” Teddy stares at James’s pink hole, fully exposed but still tightly closed. He blows lightly across it and watches as it twitches. “I better start licking before this melts.”

From the moment Teddy’s tongue touches the hold, James’s voice is alive again. Not words, just sounds, pants, groans. The sounds are exciting and spur Teddy on as he starts to lose himself in the act as well. As the rosebud begins to yield to his tongue, James gets even louder.

“That’s it, babe. Be as loud as you want. I want my ice cream to scream.” He dives back in, hungry for everything James was giving him. As much as he loved rimming James, there was still more to the journey so after another minute or so to say goodbye, he leaves the slice of heaven and sets his eyes on James, who had thrown his hands over his face, still lost in his imagination. He leans his head right beside James’s ear and whispers, “My ice cream is all soft and warm now. Let’s head to the Apothecary. There are some supplies we need to pick up.”

James's body shivers at the proximity and the words. It’s clear what supplies Teddy needs.

Accio Lube.

“This one looks good, but what do you say we give it a try before we buy?” Not even waiting for a response, Teddy coats a finger then sinks it partway into James’s hole. James clearly isn’t expecting the move and he gasps. Teddy stills his hand and begins nibbling on James’s ear. “Do you need more time?” he asks caringly.

For the first time in a while, James opens his eyes and meets Teddy’s gaze. “No. Keep going.” A wave of hunger rolls over Teddy as he begins pushing his finger deeper into James’s heat. “Feels good,” James moans into his ear.

“Yeah? How about now,” he asks as he adds a second finger. James is still so tight, but Teddy knows him by now, knows his boyfriend’s body in ways he doesn’t even know his own. With his two fingers deeply embedded, he curls them up and presses against James’s prostate.

“Gah!” James always reacts this way upon the first press. They call it James’s ‘G(ah)-spot.’ Teddy stifles a laugh at the thought and distracts James with a particularly wide spread of his fingers. He knows that James enjoys the burn. “Next-” he begins, right as Teddy gives another hard jab against his prostate, “ahh, next stop. Teddy, please.”

“As you wish,” Teddy says, removing his fingers from James, despite the other man’s protest. “I suppose prep work is all the Apothecary is good for anyway.” He looks down, sees James’s bare skin, flushed and damp with sweat, sees James’s cock and the line of pre-cum that has leaked from the top and down the shaft, sees his own still fully-clothed body, and knows where they will be headed next. “I seem to be in need of an outfit that matches yours. Madam Malkin’s?”

James catches the hint and immediately reaches out to tug on Teddy’s shirt. His eagerness is adorable. Teddy helps him and soon their bare skin is touching from thigh to shoulder, James’s muscles feel as hard as his cock under Teddy. Lost in the sensation, he almost forgets his place in the story.

“So... Madam Malkin’s, right? Let’s see. I think there is something left for me to try on, wouldn’t you say?”

James chuckles, the break from constant stimulation allowing him a chance to clear his mind of the sexual haze. He reaches for the lube and then grabs Teddy’s cock, trapping it between his hand and his chest. Teddy moans, not in control for the first time tonight. James doesn’t want control for long, and soon pulls his knees all the way to his chest before leading Teddy’s cock between his cheeks, the thick head of his cock resting against the loose pucker.

“Feels really warm, Jamie. I can’t wait to try it on.” He can’t believe how cheesy some of these lines are sounding, but as he presses in, his every other concern falls away.

“So big!” James moans. He craves this feeling, Teddy knows it.

“Big? I was going to say that this might be a tad too small. The fit is pretty snug.”

“You love it that way,” James replied cheekily and Teddy laughed. As fun as blowing James’s mind always was, having him here to quip with is what he wants right now.

Slowly he's swallowed until finally Teddy’s balls are resting against James’s ass, fully sheathed inside the younger man. As soon as he feels James loosen enough, he pulls back and gives a quick thrust back in. The sudden action causes James to wrap his legs around Teddy’s waist and his arms around Teddy’s shoulders. Taking that as an open invitation, Teddy begins to thrust in and out. James is now uttering a constant stream of moans directly into Teddy’s ear. “You’re right. The fit is perfect,” Teddy moans back to him.

Teddy could happily keep up this pace until he comes, but James has other ideas. Suddenly James goes from totally pliant in his arms to strong and solid as his muscular arms grab his hips and stop Teddy from thrusting on his own. James pulls them together, forcing Teddy as deep as he can go and holds him there. The change in dominance makes Teddy’s knees weak. “I think you’ve done enough shopping.” He laughs in his cocksure way and nibbles on Teddy’s ear, and suddenly Teddy is the one gasping for air. “Why don’t we go to Quality Quidditch Supplies. I want to try out some new brooms.”

“B-brooms?” Teddy’s mind tries to keep up.

“Yeah, I hear there’s a new model that I simply must get a ride on.” A knowing smile spreads on James’s face as he flips their positions. “Now let me work,” he says and rises up on strong legs, Teddy’s cock slowly being revealed.

Teddy looks up from his position under James and it finally sinks in just as James sinks back down on his cock. He fists the sheets to keep from grabbing at James’s soft inner thighs. “Fuck! You are so good at this,” he moans.

“What did you expect? I’m a pro.”

Teddy isn’t even sure if James is still playing their game or if he is just that confident in himself, either way he isn’t lying. Teddy has never been this turned on by James in his life. He can feel his toes starting to curl and knows that as fun as this is, the end of the road is coming.

James’s eyes are closed as he rides Teddy using just the strength in his legs. His hands are playing with Teddy’s chest, tweaking a nipple, brushing against that sensitive spot on his ribs, playing with the rainbow colored happy trail, whatever he could reach.

“James! I’m not going to last.” Teddy finally admits.

“I’m close too. Have we visited everywhere?” James asks, keeping up the constant up and down rocking of his body.

Teddy looks down and is mesmerized by James’s cock as it bobs along with his motions. The tip is shiny as ever and this time with a trail that has been dripping onto Teddy’s stomach for several minutes. The need to hold it overtakes him. “I think I’m going to pop over to Ollivanders and try out a new wand.” He’s barely gotten the line out before he reaches out and fists James’s hard cock. It’s gone untouched for so long and it’s hot and slick against his palm.

“Ahh! Wait, Teddy-“James moans before his insides clamp down on Teddy and cum shoots from the tip, landing in white hot lines across Teddy’s chest. James’s arms fall on either side of Teddy’s head for support as he continues to ride him, despite still going through the aftershocks of his intense orgasm.

The sight and the feel of James, it’s all too much and Teddy is cumming too. As the desperate moan leaves his throat, he feels James settle fully onto his cock and accept the flood of hot cum that is rushing into his ass. He continues to play with James’s cock, which must be extra sensitive at this point but James isn’t complaining. “So, does this mean I found my wand on the first try?” he asks, out of breath and drifting in the glow.

James collapses on top of him and soon they are both shaking with shared laughter. “What a pair we make, huh?”

“I happen to think I’m a great tour guide. Did you enjoy your trip to Diagon Alley?”

James raises his head and Teddy is struck by the intensity in those brown eyes. “Of course, but we have one more stop.”

“Where?”

“Gringotts, obviously.”

Teddy reaches a hand down James’s ass to feel the point where they are still connected, though he is slowly going soft. “I don’t want to make a withdrawal just yet.”

“I don’t want that either, but it’s not for you. I want to show you my vault.”

“Your vault? You don’t have to pay me.”

“No, silly.” James takes Teddy’s hand and rests it against his heart. The heartbeat beneath James’s skin is still erratic. “My heart. I’ve been keeping it in there for you.”

11 notes · View notes