Lev

For I am a wildfire in ruin

[nadinebrooks-sides]

Here is the link to my masterlist.

Will Graham: Unspoken Tension

I just want to start this off by saying this is not how I typically write. For those of you who have read a lot of my writing, this may be a bit of a surprise. I just wanted to test the waters with this. Will is typically super sweet and awkward in most things I write. And he will more than likely remain that way in most things I write after, unless you guys really like this. Like most things I write, I saw a TikTok and ran with it, but yeah, enjoy!

The classroom had been quiet for almost ten minutes since the last student left, their chair scraping back, final paper handed in with a shaky thanks, and the door clicking shut behind them.

You were still sitting, half-turned in your seat, watching Professor Graham pack up with the same quiet intensity he always carried. It was like he knew more than he let on or like he saw too much.

Your fingers were fidgeting with the zipper of your oversized tote as he shot you a small smile and headed to his office. The air still buzzed with everything left unsaid over the semester between the two of you.

Flirting that had danced at the edge of inappropriate. A smirk here, a lingering glance there. The time he stood just a bit too close behind you while you read a profile aloud. 

The time he muttered “clever girl” under his breath with a voice that felt like it scraped straight down your spine.

You told yourself it was nothing. You had to tell yourself it was nothing.

But now?

Now you were a couple of days from graduation. No more classes. No more titles. No more excuses.

Your sneakers echoed down the hall toward his office. Familiar. Tense. You paused outside the door, heart in your throat, and lifted your hand to knock.

“Come in,” came his voice. It was low, rough like smoke and tension.

You slipped in, shutting the door behind you gently, eyes locking with his.

His sleeves were rolled up, arms folded over the edge of his desk, dark curls a little tousled from him running his hands through them too many times.

“What are you still doing here?” he said, eyebrows raised with the barest smile at the corners of his mouth. “I figured you’d be out celebrating by now with your friends.”

You stood there for a second too long before answering. “I'm meeting a couple of them later.”

He leaned back in his chair, eyes dragging slowly over your form. “Congratulations on graduating. You’ve been...good to have in class. Really good (y/n).”

"Thanks, Professor Graham." You stepped forward. One. Two. Fingers found the lock on the door behind you. Click.

That made him blink.

“(Y/N),” he said carefully. “What are you doing?”

“Well, since you’re not my professor anymore, I can finally say this out loud: I really want to kiss you. I’ve wanted to since the first time I was in your class.”

He stood, but not surprised by your forwardness. You had always been like that. 

He was taller than you remembered. He always felt tall in class, in charge, but now, without a desk between them, the air thick with whatever the hell this was, he felt even larger. Broader. Sharper around the edges.

His dark eyes burned into you, jaw tightening like he was weighing every possible consequence and still thinking about doing it anyway.

“Since we’re being so honest, the feeling was mutual,” he said, voice low.

You inhaled like it was the first breath you’d taken in days. “Then why haven’t you?”

His head tilted, curls shifting slightly. “Because if I start... I won’t be able to stop.”

The room swayed for a moment under the weight of that admission.

“I don’t care,” you breathed, voice trembling slightly from nerves and not from fear. “I had a dream once. About you. About this. You took me on your desk.”

His reaction was instant. It was a quiet inhale through his nose, eyes darkening with something dangerous. Hunger. Restraint, breaking.

“And what else happened?” he asked, and something in your stomach clenched, warm and hot and trembling. You opened your mouth to respond, but got too nervous to speak.

You dropped your gaze, looking everywhere but at him. His voice was firm, almost teasing. “Don’t get shy on me now (y/n).”

You looked back up at him, licking your lips, trying to focus past the rush in your chest. “Then why haven’t you done it? Why haven't you kissed me? We've been alone plenty of times.”

Will didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he stepped closer, eyes still locked on yours like he could pull every answer you’ve ever had from your mouth without needing a word.

“How old are you?”

You blinked. “Twenty-six.”

He nodded once, slowly, as if confirming something in his head. Then he gave you a look you couldn’t quite place, curious, cautious, almost reverent.

“How old are you?” you asked back.

“Forty,” he said plainly.

You didn’t speak at first. Didn’t need to. You let the silence hang until it pulled something unspoken between you.

His head tilted slightly, searching your expression. “Is that too old for you?”

You shook your head, voice quiet, but sure. “No. But that does turn me on.”

Will exhaled through his nose, half-laughing under his breath like he didn’t believe you said it, like it was the final thread snapping inside him. His mouth twitched up at the corners.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he warned, stepping close enough that the edge of his desk pressed into your lower back.

“Yes, I do,” you whispered. “And I want it anyway, Professor Graham.”

Will didn’t move, even with the weight of your words hanging between you.

“I want you,” you said again, firmer this time, watching how his jaw twitched.

He turned his head slightly, as if looking at you from another angle would make it easier. It didn’t. “You think you know what that means,” he murmured, voice rough. “But you don’t.”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms under your chest, tilting your head. “Don’t do that. Don’t try to protect me like I’m some naïve undergrad. I know exactly what I want.”

He stepped forward again, slow and deliberate. His gaze dropped to your lips and hovered there, just for a second too long.

“That may be true,” he said, voice barely above a whisper now, “but I’d break your heart.”

You almost laughed, but there was no humor in it. A soft chuckle, really. “Maybe I’d let you.”

That got him.

His hand twitched at his side. For a moment, it looked like he was going to reach for you. The world quieted to the space between his chest and yours. The weight of it. The wanting.

You leaned in slightly, just enough to tip the moment over the edge.

But then: knock knock.

You jumped a little, forgetting where you were.

Will’s eyes shut tightly for a split second, as if physically pained. “Of course.”

Another knock.

“Will?” Alana’s voice filtered through the door. “Can I borrow you for a minute?”

Your body moved faster than your mind could catch up—legs crossed, spine straight, your final report suddenly in hand as you dropped neatly into the seat across from his desk. Cool, composed, untouched.

Will’s eyes scanned you once. You gave him the smallest smirk. Then he turned toward the door.

“Yeah,” he called. “Just a sec, Alana.”

He opened it slowly, stepping out and closing it gently behind him.

You could faintly hear their voices through the wood.

“Sorry,” Alana said. “I just wanted your input on that dismemberment case from Ohio. The new one.”

A pause.

“She’s cute,” Alana added in a whisper, teasing, gesturing toward the door with her chin.

Will’s reply was flat. “She’s my student.”

“So?” she said, arching a brow. “Besides, isn’t she graduating?”

Another pause. A rustle of paper.

He took the case file from her without another word and returned to the office.

You looked up with that same practiced innocence, chin resting on your hand, eyes wide. “What did Alana want?”

He shut the door with a click and held up the file like it weighed more than it should. “Case notes.”

Then he glanced back at you. His tone shifted. “She said you were cute.”

Your heart thudded behind your ribs.

You tilted your head slowly, lashes lowering. “And what do you think, Professor Graham?”

He stopped in his tracks. Entirely still.

He was looking at you like a man starved.

His voice came slower this time, deliberate. “I think you know exactly what I think.”

You stood now, just as slowly as you spoke, circling the desk until only the polished wood was between you and him.

Your fingers brushed over the surface—his desk. The one you dreamed about. The one you wanted him to ruin you on.

“I want to hear you say it,” you whispered.

Will’s mouth twitched, as if he was trying not to smirk. The tension in his jaw, the darkness in his eyes—it all told you exactly how close he was to losing control.

“You like control, don’t you?” you asked softly. “Being the one who knows more. Who holds back. Who makes everyone else squirm while you keep it all in.”

You rounded the desk fully, close enough now that your shoulder brushed his as you moved. You saw his breath hitch. Saw his hand flex like he was forcing himself not to touch you.

“I think you’re tired of holding back,” you murmured, stepping into his space.

“You have no idea what you’re doing,” he said, his voice lower than ever now, barely a thread of warning in it.

But it wasn’t a rejection.

It was a line he wanted you to cross.

“I think I do,” you said. “And I think you do too.”

He didn’t move. Not away. Not forward. He stood there, staring at you like you were something carved out of temptation and fire. Then—

His voice dropped, almost a growl. “Say it again.”

Your brows lifted just slightly. “What?”

“Say you want me.”

You met his eyes and smiled, slow and deliberate.

“I want you.”

Two weeks later graduation came and went like a blur of handshakes and clinking glasses. There were photos, speeches, and extended family you barely knew hugging you too long. Your friends beamed. Your parents cried. Professors offered words of encouragement about your future.

You hadn’t texted Will. Not once. The urge had struck at least a dozen times. There were half-typed messages at 2AM, half-saved drafts. But you never sent them.

You’d made the first move. You’d told him what you wanted. And if he wasn’t going to meet you there… fine. You weren’t going to beg.

You didn’t beg.

Well maybe not unless he asked.

So when you saw him again, weeks later, it hit like a punch to the chest.

It was a quiet Sunday. The air was damp with late spring humidity. Mazy, your overly friendly Australian Shepherd, was tugging at her leash in that way she always did when she wanted attention from every stranger on the street.

You were halfway through the park, earbuds in, mind somewhere else entirely, when you heard the voice.

“(Y/N).”

You stopped.

Turned.

And there he was.

Will Graham in a worn charcoal sweater and jeans, curls messy from the breeze, sleeves pushed up just like always. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and he looked like he hadn’t slept properly in days.

Mazy immediately trotted up to him like she’d known him her whole life. Tail wagging furiously.

You watched him crouch down, pet her behind the ears. He gave her a soft smile, then looked up at you, blue eyes unreadable.

“You got a dog,” he said quietly.

“I did,” you said, watching his hands. “She was a graduation gift from my parents.”

He nodded, rising to his full height. “What’s her name?”

“Mazy.”

“She’s sweet.”

“She’s manipulative,” you said dryly. “Lures people in with the eyes.”

Will gave a quiet laugh. “Sounds familiar.”

Your stomach turned, low and slow. The air between you stretched. That same invisible wire, pulled tighter now. Older. Hungrier.

You tucked your hands into your coat pockets. “Didn’t expect to see you.”

“I didn’t expect to be here,” he said. “Walked a different route today. Then I saw you.”

You nodded, heart pounding beneath your skin. “You look tired.”

He smirked. “You look smug.”

You shrugged. “I’m just walking my dog.”

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” he asked, stepping closer, not enough to touch, but enough to feel.

“Not a clue,” you said, eyes flicking down to his mouth and then back up. “You tell me, Professor Graham.”

Will inhaled sharply through his nose. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” you asked, voice low and teasing. “I’m not your student anymore.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “You still feel like one.”

“You mean… untouchable?”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, his gaze swept over you in that slow, burning way that made your lungs forget what they were for. But still, he didn’t touch you.

“You’re doing it again,” you whispered.

“What?”

“Pulling away just when it gets good.”

“I’m not going to fuck you in a park (y/n),” he said flatly.

You laughed, loud and genuine, and Mazy barked as if she agreed. “I wasn’t asking for that. Yet.”

Will’s jaw clenched. His eyes dropped to the ground, and for a second, you saw a flicker of something broken, desire wrapped in fear. Want held back by guilt and time.

“I left the ball in your court,” you said softly, stepping just a little closer. “You didn’t take the shot.”

Will met your eyes again. Raw. Conflicted. A man unraveling slowly, methodically, from the inside out.

“I couldn’t,” he said. “Not yet. Not when I know I’ll ruin you.”

You tilted your head. “You don’t get to decide what ruins me.”

He swallowed. “You deserve more than—”

“Please stop.” you interrupted, firm this time. “You don’t get to do that either. I’m not some fragile thing you’re saving. I’m someone who wanted you.”

Will looked at you like it hurt to breathe.

Mazy tugged at her leash again, tail still wagging, sensing the shift in mood.

“I should go,” you said finally, voice quiet. “I have to get her home.”

You took a few steps, then stopped, half-turning to look at him over your shoulder.

“Call me,” you said. “Or don’t. But if you don’t, don’t ever act like I didn’t want you.”

You turned and walked away.

Will didn’t move.

But he watched you until you disappeared.

Later that night, you were fresh from the shower, hair damp, watching some reality tv show quietly in the background because you couldn’t stand silence lately. 

The oversized tee you wore that barely covered your ass stuck slightly to your skin, your legs bare and curled under you as you nursed a pint of ice cream.

Mazy lay stretched on the rug by the couch, twitching slightly in her sleep.

You had just taken a spoonful to your lips when your phone lit up across the coffee table.

Professor Graham.

Your heart stuttered.

You stared at the screen like it might burn you.

You picked up on the third ring. “Hello?”

His voice came through low, edged with something darker than you’d ever heard from him.

“Tell me to come over.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I’m standing in my kitchen,” he said. “Phone in one hand. Keys in the other. So just say it.”

You set your ice cream aside slowly, heartbeat thudding. “What would we be doing if you did?”

There was a pause. It was just long enough to make your breath catch.

“First,” Will said, voice smooth, dangerously steady, “I’d press you against the wall. Wet hair. Damp skin. I’d taste the water sliding down your neck before I ever touched your lips.”

You gripped the edge of the couch cushion.

“I’d strip you in the hallway,” he continued, “but slowly. Like I’ve got time. Like I haven’t spent months thinking about this. Then I’d bend you over the kitchen table. Just to hear you say my name like it hurts.”

Your breath faltered. He kept going.

“Then I’d take you to the couch. Sit you on my lap. Make you ride me until you forget your own name. And then,” he added, voice lower now, “we’d end up in the shower. Water hot. Steam everywhere. Your thighs shaking while I fuck you against the tile.”

You were quiet.

Silent, actually.

Completely wrecked, completely speechless.

Will let the silence stretch just long enough before chuckling darkly. “What? Nothing to say now?”

“You’re just giving me empty promises,” you managed, breathless.

His voice turned sharp. “You think I’m lying?”

You licked your lips. “No. I think you’re cruel. I think you want to break me in half with words, but you won’t do a damn thing about it.”

Another pause. Heavy.

So you said it. Clear. Unapologetic. “Why won’t you just come over and fuck me Professor Graham?”

And that’s when the call ended.

The line went dead.

You stared at your screen, stunned, adrenaline crashing.

“Fucking coward,” you muttered, trying to laugh it off. But your heart was pounding too loud. You stood, pacing the room, still in nothing but a shirt and underwear. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream or throw your phone.

But then—a knock at the door.

Sharp. Urgent.

You froze.

Mazy perked her ears, lifting her head, tail thumping lazily.

You crossed the room slowly, blood rushing in your ears. You looked through the window by the door.

Will.

Soaked to the bone. Rain dripping from his curls. His clothes plastered to his body. Chest rising and falling like he’d been running—not from the weather, but from himself.

He had no umbrella. No coat.

Only his eyes, dark and locked onto the door, like he knew you were right there. Like he could feel you on the other side.

You opened it.

He didn’t say a word.

He didn’t say a word when he stepped inside.

Just closed the door behind him, locked it, and turned to face you like something primal had finally surfaced.

The kiss he gave you wasn’t rushed; it was measured. Controlled. Like he was still pretending he could pace himself. His hands framed your face, thumbs brushing your jaw, lips slow and deliberate against yours. But every breath that passed between you was ragged. Every soft groan in the back of his throat betrayed him.

His body was still soaked, rain dripping from his curls and clothes, and yet you didn’t care. Your fingers curled into the damp fabric of his shirt, clutching him like you might fall if you let go.

Will deepened the kiss, and his hands slipped down. They were over your neck, your arms, your waist. He explored like he had the right to, like he’d had a map of your body etched into the back of his mind for years.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to breathe, his voice was thick. Rough.

“This is what you wanted, huh?” he murmured, watching your lips, kiss-swollen and trembling.

Your knees buckled. You actually whimpered, eyes fluttering as heat surged through every inch of you.

You weren’t just wet. You were overwhelmed. Drenched in everything he was, everything he’d kept from you until now.

You hated that it showed.

He saw the tears gathering in your eyes before they even fell.

“Aww,” he cooed, voice low and patronizing as he lifted one hand to your cheek. His thumb caught the tear that slipped free. “You poor baby. Use your words.”

You swallowed hard, eyes burning—not just from need, but from frustration.

He tilted his head, mocking curiosity darkening his gaze. “So you don’t beg?”

Your eyes flared. You stepped back, not far, just enough to glare up at him with fire.

Will just chuckled. Slow. Arrogant.

“You’re pissed,” he said, pleased by it. “What happened to all that attitude, sweet girl?”

He turned his back on you then, walking toward the couch. His wet footprints trail across your hardwood floor like evidence of a crime.

And without needing to be asked, without hesitation, you followed.

You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until he sat down and spread his legs. His soaked clothes clung to his thighs. His eyes met yours, and it was no longer a question of if this would happen. It was how long he’d make you wait to break.

“You’ve been such a good girl,” Will said, voice low, almost cruel in its gentleness. “So patient. You're so pretty when you need me.”

You stood in front of him, shaking slightly. You weren't sure if it was from the cold air he brought in or from the pressure of him finally seeing you like this.

“Take your shirt off,” he said softly. “I want to see how much you’ve missed me.”

You stood there in front of him, breath hitching, heart hammering, hands twitching at your sides.

The oversized shirt clung to your still-damp skin, rising just enough to expose the curve of your thighs, the edge of your soaked underwear.

Will leaned back into the couch like a man at peace. His clothes still dripped rainwater onto the floor, but he didn’t care. His eyes never left you.

“You’re still dressed,” he said softly.

You didn’t move.

He didn’t repeat himself.

He didn’t need to.

Your fingers found the hem of the shirt and lifted it slowly, watching him the whole time, searching his face for any flicker of weakness.

There was none.

You were left in nothing but those tiny, wet, barely there underwear.

Will's gaze dragged over you like a brand. Slow. Thorough. He licked his bottom lip, but made no move to reach for you.

You waited.

And then, after a long, pulsing silence—

“Beg.”

You blinked, caught between disbelief and raw heat.

“…What?”

That dark glint in his eyes? That wasn't playful.

“The next time I ask,” Will said, voice low, clipped, “won’t be so nice, (Y/N).”

You stared at him, heart sinking, throat tightening. Anger flared in your chest—but underneath it? Desperation. Shame, arousal, confusion. The tears came before you could stop them, stinging the corners of your eyes.

Will’s expression didn’t change.

You swallowed.

“…Please,” you said, barely a whisper.

He leaned forward slightly. “That’s not begging. Tell me what you want.”

Your jaw trembled. “Please, Will. I need you. I’ve been waiting for so long and I—” Your voice cracked. “Please.”

That finally did it.

He leaned forward, slowly, and rested his elbows on his knees, towering over you even seated. His hand reached up—fingertips brushing the damp skin of your inner thigh. You tensed.

He looked up at you. Sharp. Hungry.

“There she is,” he murmured. “Look at how needy you are. My pretty girl.”

The praise made you shiver. He thumbed a tear from your cheek again and this time, he didn’t mock you. This time, it was tender. Too tender.

It made you want to cry harder.

“Get on my lap,” he said. “Now.”

You obeyed.

You didn’t hesitate.

Not when his hands gripped your waist, not when he pressed you down against the hard line of him beneath his soaked jeans. Not when his lips ghosted your ear and he whispered—

“I’m going to make you ask for everything. Understand?”

You nodded.

“No. Say it.”

“…I understand.”

“Good girl.”

You straddled his lap, trembling—not from fear. From pressure. From the weight of him staring up at you like you were a masterpiece he had built just to destroy.

Will’s hands stayed firm on your hips, guiding you forward, grinding you down against the thick, unrelenting pressure between you. The fabric of your underwear dragged over him slowly, maddeningly slow. Too much friction and not nearly enough at once.

You whimpered.

“Say thank you,” Will murmured.

You blinked down at him, lips parted, flushed and dazed.

“F-for what?”

He raised an eyebrow. “For letting you ruin my lap.”

You choked on a sound that might’ve been a laugh or a sob—he didn’t care. He just tilted his head and waited.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He grinned. Pleased. Dark. Like this was all playing out exactly as he envisioned.

Will leaned forward slightly, mouth brushing your jaw, then down to your throat. He didn’t kiss you. He just breathed you in. You tilted your head on instinct, offering him more, needing his mouth anywhere, everywhere.

“You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” he murmured against your skin. “Grinding on my lap. My desk. Your bed.”

You nodded fast, dizzy.

He let out a soft, cruel laugh. “I know, sweetheart. You practically drooled through class some days.”

You whimpered again, and this time he rewarded you. His hands slid up your waist, palms hot against your skin, thumbs brushing just under your breasts.

“Will,” you gasped. “Please.”

“Mm.” His lips finally touched the sensitive place beneath your ear. “Please what? Tell me what you want.”

Your whole body arched into him, like you were desperate for any contact, any friction, any release. “Please touch me Will. Do something. Anything—”

He gripped your hips tighter, holding you still.

“Anything?” he echoed, amused. “You’d let me do anything?”

You went still, breath caught.

And he grinned. Because that’s what he wanted. That hesitation. That need.

Then he finally, finally, slid one hand beneath the band of your underwear.

Your whole body shuddered.

Will groaned when he felt how wet you were for him. “Look at you,” he murmured, voice thick with arousal. “So wet you’re shaking.”

You buried your face in his neck, whimpering when his fingers finally slid over you, slow and devastating.

"That won't do (y/n), look at me or I'll stop." He hissed in your ear. You gripped his shoulder, forcing yourself away from his neck to look into his eyes.

He didn’t give you what you wanted all at once. He toyed with you. Played you like an instrument he’d been tuning for years.

“You’re going to fall apart,” he whispered. “I told you this would happen.”

And you did.

Right there, in his lap, under his hand, gasping out half-formed words and soft cries, grinding down against his palm until the orgasm tore through you like nothing you’d ever felt before. You sobbed his name into his shoulder as your body collapsed against his chest, boneless and ruined.

Will held you through it, still stroking you softly, whispering praise in your ear. “I know, baby, I know. That’s what you needed, wasn’t it?”

You nodded weakly, still trembling, still wet and aching for him.

And Will, still fully dressed, still calm, still in control—smiled against your cheek and said, “You’re not done yet.”

[collywobblvs]

UGHHH THIS IS SO GOOD BROOO

[dolicekiss]

Bittersweet Belladona

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

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

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

You were lured in.

You should've known.

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

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

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

“Beautiful, isn't it?”

It was Will’s deep voice.

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

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

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

The proof was levitating right up in the air.

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

A look of disgust in his eyes.

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

Your lips trembled. “I—”

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

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

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

Without their own acknowledgement.

You didn't want to die.

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

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

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

“Please—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He found it endearing, even.

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

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

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

You gulped, staring between the two men.

Glancing at Will and cowering under Hannibal’s gaze.

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

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

You stared at him, a lone tear sliding down.

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

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

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

In a way he'd liked.

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

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

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

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

Plunging his tongue in an out of your mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

It was loud, everything becoming a blur to you.

Just how hard had he hit you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How did they catch you?

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

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

They could be your pillars.

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

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

They came prepared.

Oh they had thought everything out.

They were looking forward to this.

“No, n-no, please. Listen to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

You shook your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The slick glistening against the bright lights.

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

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

Why were you feeling this way?

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

You still wanted out — as good as this felt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

By breaking you apart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine.” Will replied with a groan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were a virgin.

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

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

Made for them.

Crafted for them by the same god they both resented.

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

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

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

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

You inhaled through your nose, nodding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He almost came at the sight of you.

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

And he never needed anything.

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

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

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

It turned him on like nothing else.

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

But it was the pleasure getting to your head.

Of course this was morally wrong and fucked up.

But who had morals in this room?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You still hadn't cum.

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

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

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

You nodded.

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

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

Your eyes widened. “N—No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were so fucking stupid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We?” Hannibal raised a brow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Will’s jaw tightened.

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

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

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

[thegirlinthedesk]

This is so beautiful I can't.

[1ych333-deactivated20260730]

bury me

masterlist

Summary: After a hazy night out, you awaken in unfamiliar surroundings.

Warnings: SMUT, Intoxication(reader), non/dub-con, kidnapping, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), taking advantage, praise, degradation, p w p, soft Hannibal+Will, manipulation

A/N: yall I haven’t abandoned cillian I swear. Kinda hate this but hope yall enjoy! Sorry for any mistakes ^^

“Where’d you find this one?”

You hear the two men conversing,

"She was sitting outside a bar, practically begging to be taken," the accented man replies, casually recounting your hazy night.

Your head feels like it weighs a thousand pounds as you lift it, trying to take in your surroundings. Clearly, this nap hasn't sobered you up at all. As you groan, signaling your awakening, the two men approach.

"Don't fucking touch me," you manage to say, pushing yourself up and scrambling back on the couch. Your attempt at a threat falls flat, and you feel utterly defenseless as they advance. The taller one, dressed in a suit, kneels in front of you, his cold, calloused hands spreading apart your knees. The contrast against your warming skin sends a shiver through you.

His hair is slightly disheveled, and his eyes are both captivating and dangerous. You're drawn to his face, momentarily distracted from his actions, until his hand slides further down your thigh.

"What are you—no. Stop!" you exclaim, your words slurred as your brain struggles to keep up. You try to stop him, your hands landing on his, but your grip is weak.

"Ignoring your subconscious desires can be detrimental to your health, young lady," he says, a smirk playing on his lips as his hand slips free of your limp grasp.

His thumb presses against your clothed heat, leaving a damp spot. The two men exchange a knowing glance before switching, and mortified, you squeeze your knees together, trying to shield yourself.

Will kneels before you, spreading your legs with the back of his hands as he rides your skirt up to your hips. He slips your panties off effortlessly, throwing them behind him. Hannibal sits beside you on the couch, distracting you from Will. He uses your chin to guide your head to face him, then capturing you in a passionate kiss.

His grip on your chin harshens, and for a second it feels like he’s consuming you rather than kissing you. Will lazily circles your clit, building the tension to make you breathless and needy. Your eyes squeeze as you feel him enter a finger into you, letting you adjust before plunging it all the way. Your mouth gapes open as you gasp, rocking your hips against his hand.

“So fucking tight.” Will states.

Hannibal takes this as an opportunity to slide his tongue in, battling with your tongue before ravishing around your mouth and forcing it down your throat. His fingers thread through your hair, keeping you in place.

You feel suffocated as Hannibal sucks your moans in. The finger inside you thrusts at a rapid rate, curling until it hits your good spot, which doesn’t go unnoticed. Another finger was inserted, tightening your walls around the fingers as you cry into Hannibal’s mouth. Your back arches as Hannibal finally breaks apart, your lips swelling and red. Hannibal then holds your neck, not roughly but enough to guide. He lifts up, allowing himself to plant soft kisses along your jawline and down your neck. His hands expose your now bare breasts before he latches onto a nipple, sucking on it whilst teasing the other.

Your toes curl as you reach your orgasm, your breath quickening as your head falls back. With that, the fingers are suddenly retracted, letting you come down from your much needed high.

“Don’t stop.” You plead, out of breath.

Will smirks as he licks his fingers, to which Hannibal lifts his head up,

“Don’t be cruel, Will. The mind can only take so much.”

“Please.” You plead, your eyelashes fluttering. He plunges his fingers back in, rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your hips rocked frantically against his hand, chasing your release yet again. You came with a moan, your body shuddering as you panted.

Hannibal picked you up bridal stile effortlessly before walking over to the unsteady table. He leans onto the table as he plants you down onto the floor. You sway side to side unconsciously, and your heels don’t help to maintain your balance. You lean on Will as he stands before you. As you hear a zip behind you, your eyes widen.

“Wait.. Wait.” You repeat, turning your head around to see Hannibal pulling his cock out. You were sober enough to know that you couldn’t do this. Not only were you off the pill, but you also couldn’t take that length.

“Shh. Baby. Focus on me.” Will says, dragging your attention to him. He captures your lips into a kiss, his fingers sliding through your hair before grabbing it by the roots, using it to steer your head forward and push you deeper into the kiss. His kiss was less dominating than Hannibal’s. It was soft, enjoyable.

Hannibal centers his cock with your hole, rubbing it against your folds before letting his tip enter slowly. You moaned, pulling away from Will as your eyes rolled back. You stabilize yourself by holding onto Will’s shoulders.

Hannibal thrusted fully inside of you, watching how your pussy swallowed all of his cock perfectly, tight and warm. You dug your nails into Wills shoulders, your bottom lip dropped as he captures you into a kiss again, this time, he travels through your jawline to nibble on your earlobe. His kisses get more harsh as he travels through your neck, now sucking onto skin to leave marks. A reminder of this night that your brain will try to erase.

You lean into Will, causing Hannibal to grab your hips and pull you back onto his cock, hitting your good spot and hard. Your back arches as you hide your head in Will’s neck. Hannibal fucks you deep, hitting your spot repeatedly. You bite will’s shoulders, not enough to draw blood but enough to mark.

He smiles before drawing your head up, “Look at me.”

You lift your head up slowly, your head still moving forward and backwards with each thrust. It’s only then that you fully take in his beauty. His brown curls stuck to the sweat on his face, long but kept. His button nose twitched with every touch, his eyelashes fluttered with eye contact. He was truly beautiful.

“Fuck,” Hannibal groaned, his thrusts becoming more desperate and messy, his back curls on top of yours as he holds your shoulder with one hand and your hip with another, hitting you deeper. He watches as his cock disappeared in and out of your pussy, the sound of skin slapping surrounding his ears.

Hannibal’s cum shot inside you, filling you up. His thrusts getting lazier and lazier as he fucked his cum back inside of you to the deepest point. Your moans quietened as your breath got raggedy, knees buckling as Hannibal, your main support, pulled out. You wrapped your arms around Will as his hand snaked around your waist to support you. Hannibal tucked his now limp cock back into his pants and took out a cigarette before lighting it.

With a puff, he watched as Will placed you onto the couch and took off your heels. Not only were you just drunk, but also cock drunk. He lay back as they all settle their breathing.

You fade in and out of consciousness, your body fighting to black out. You notice the tent in Will’s pants, bringing about an idea that didn’t process through various parts of your brain. You rest your chin onto his thighs, looking up at him with doe eyes and batting your eyelashes before pulling his pants down to his thighs. They both look at you, then the hard-on, curiously.

“Darling?” Hannibal asked, impressed and surprised that one fuck already made you a whore.

You close your eyes, sticking your tongue out and licking Will’s cock through his boxers, forming a wet patch as the cock gets harder.

Will groans softly, then exclaims, "Look at her. Can't we keep her?"

Hannibal walks over, crushing the cigarette under his shoe before gently caressing your hair. "No," he says firmly, watching as Will's face falls.

"Keep me," you say sweetly, your words slurring, half-unsure of what you're even saying.

You unwrap your swollen pink lips on Will’s cock and lay your head down on his thighs, fading in and out of sleep.

"See? Even she wants us to," Will argues, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"She's intoxicated. Heavily," Hannibal replies sternly, maintaining his composure. After a brief pause, he continues, "I'm sure there will be another time we...bump into her. Then you can continue this," he gestures towards Will's lap with a subtle, knowing look.

"Check her driver's license for an address. I'll get her dressed, and then we'll drop her off. It'll be as if nothing happened tonight," Hannibal concludes, his tone suggesting the matter is settled.

[recondaughter]

[toasttew]

Me seeing that the last chapter of the most perfect, toe curling, well cooked fic it's titled "sorry guys" or "important plis read"

[columbinasangelwingclips]

“You’re quite sensitive to my touch.” Hannibal murmurs, a gentle sound while he watches your stomach flinch away from his wandering hand. Your hips jolt at the smooth and deliberate contact and it sends a shock down your body. You pant, your mind momentarily dazed— your head is still reeling back from the intense orgasm he ripped out of you with just his skilled fingers.

“A-Ah..” You whimpered out, squirming when his thumb rubs over your hip bone, holding you into place. Embarrassment choked up into your throat, the vulnerability burned like a hot knife throughout your chest. You can feel your face flush, and he admires the rare sight of you losing your typical composure— your mind submitting to the pleasure only he could provide. And it boosts his ego immensely.

You look the most like prey when you’re like this. On your back, exposed to him— trapped within his clutches, no one and nowhere else to turn to but him. He liked it this way. The way you looked at him with heavy lidded eyes that tried to fight against him— but couldn’t find the strength to tear away. It stirred a great temptation to ruin you beyond belief, till pretty tears streamed down your face and till his name fell out like a desperate prayer from your sweet lips that trembled so easily.

The idea dangled itself in front of him like a wounded rabbit trying to burrow in the snow from a starved wolf, and he was hungry. But Hannibal was a patient man, he did not rush things— he only adjusted them accordingly, so that they could fall into the right place at the right time.

“D-Don’t. Please.” You whisper under your breath, your wrists tied above your head with his own tie. You spoke as if you knew exactly what he was thinking of.

“Don’t do what?” He prompts gently, his eyes savoring the sight of you beneath him.

“You’re looking at me like you’re gonna eat me alive.” You answer. Your voice is shaky but someone would have to be a fool to not notice the way you sounded like you needed him to breathe.

He smiles, and it’s a rare, genuine smile. The kind that reaches his eyes— it’s warm and fond. It’s scary. “Oh my dear,” He leans close to your lips, pressing a small and soft kiss, it’s startling. “I think you’ll let me.” He doesn’t pose it as something to be questioned. It’s a simple fact. His fingers run up your sides, sinking back down to grip the flesh of your thighs, making sure they stay apart. “And that scares you more than me.”

[literaphobe]

*accidentally realizes i’ve been overusing a random phrase a lot* where did this come from. who did this to me

[randomreasonstolive]

Reason to Live #8174

  Forgetting about a snack I bought and feeling happy rediscovering it. – Guest Submission

(Please don’t add negative comments to these posts.)

[savethelifeofmychild]

kneeling down beside my bed and folding my hands and closing my eyes: dear god please let me have some gay sex soon and also maybe let me win the lottery so i never have to get a job again. okay goodbye i mean amen

[anxietyproblem]

[slitherpunk]

you heathens will reblog day specific posts any day of the week. i woke up thinking it was wednesday

[arcnoise]

happy wake up thinking it was wednesday sunday

[wizard-email]

it's fucking friday

[pikky126]

happy woke up thinking it was wednesday sunday but it was actually fucking friday tuesday

[jb-blunk]

my anxiety is so high I want someone to lay directly on top of me like a weighted blanket made of pure love and acceptance

[metamorphesque]

― Clarice Lispector, Água Viva

[text ID: I am obscure to myself. I let myself happen. I unfold only in the now. I am rudely alive.]

[kaiischa0tic]

Matt Reeves and Paul Dano: Yea this version of the Riddler is inspired by the Zodiac Killer, he's really creepy and unsettling.

Danonation: I wanna fuck him. He's cute and nerdy and he'll be my little discord kitten.

[katebushh]

Attention, Co-Workers: I Have Taped up a Picture of Paul Dano at My Desk

I am thrilled to announce that this picture is now affixed to my wall, and I can look at it whenever I wish.

this article from 2016..

[sadiea20]

I haven’t been on tumblr since 2016…can’t believe Im back here just for paul dano .

[cupcakeskittycat]

No cuz why are you guys writing so much fucking smut for the Riddler. I'm really just here for fluff and angst,,,Also why is the Riddler a Dom? HE'S A FUCKING SUB HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?