Will feels pity. He really does. Seeing you squirm under his hold. Being the target of his stress relief was not something you thought you would be at first but here you both are.
His eyes staring down at you, almost mocking. His forearm under your head as his thumb slightly brushed your cheek. The soft skin under his roughened palm. Looking so pretty, cheeks damp with tears. Sometimes brushing them away with his touch.
His other hand in-between your legs. One leg on top of yours to refrain you from closing them. The sounds echoed the quietness of his cabin. Sometimes a bark or two but his mind was not at that.
It was at the soft mewls leaving your lips. His fingers slowly teasing that soft spongy spot. Over and over. Coaxing everything you had to offer. "C'mon baby, one more."
"can't Will— s'too much—", you softly sobbed. Your legs threatening to close. Shaking when you straighten them. You couldn't even coax another plea before feeling the burn of another orgasm. Your eyes closing, another cry leaving your lips.
"there we go. .", Will cooed. Pulling his hands out before paying attention to your clit. Rubbing lazy circles. "Such a pretty girl for me", he placed a soft kiss on your damp cheek. His lips widening into a smile against your skin.
Your hips squirming while his fingers still worked on your clit. "so eager, want more?", he teased. Your whining making him laugh. He finally relented, having you spent as he brought his fingers to his lips. Licking them clean with a deep hum. "Taste so sweet, always so sweet for me", he whispered as he leaned down pressing his lips with her.
His tongue pushing against yours, making you taste yourself on his tongue. Pulling back as he traced your lips with his tongue before smiling. "So good for me", he praised before pulling you close. Letting you curl up against his chest as he pulled the sheets over the both of you.
Every thought that weigh his mind disappeared. The only thing that occupied it now was you. Everything about you was his hearts demise.
The mall was alive with movement—voices overlapping, the whir of shopping carts, the beeping of registers. People passed by, weaving in and out of stores, lost in their own worlds. You weren’t particularly focused on any of it, just walking alongside Hannibal and Will, the rhythm of their steps falling in sync with yours.
But then you saw him.
A little boy, no older than two, standing by a row of carts, left alone.
At first, it didn’t seem real. Maybe his mother was just a step away, maybe someone had turned away for only a moment. But then the seconds dragged on, and no one came.
His lip wobbled. His tiny fingers clutched the metal of the cart, like he was holding onto the only steady thing in his world. His round eyes scanned the crowd, searching—waiting—but finding nothing.
Then, the break. A deep inhale, the tremble of a breath, and the first tear slipping down his cheek.
Your chest tightened.
It was the kind of sadness that reached somewhere deep inside of you, a pull you didn’t want to acknowledge. The type of thing that made something ache in your ribs. You knew what it was to be small in a world that didn’t always look back at you, to feel lost even when surrounded by people.
You tried to suppress it. Your expression didn’t change much, your posture remained composed, but your steps had already slowed. Will and Hannibal noticed.
Will followed your line of sight, his brows furrowing. "What’s—" But then he saw, too.
Hannibal didn’t say anything at first, only tilted his head slightly as he observed. But when you took a step forward, he moved with you, and so did Will.
The boy let out a hiccuped sob.
You knelt down in front of him, making sure not to startle him. Your voice was soft, careful. "Hey, sweetheart," you murmured. "Where’s your mama?"
He sniffled, his little fingers twitching at his sides. He wasn’t wailing, but the quiet distress was somehow worse. Like he wasn’t sure he was even allowed to cry.
Something about that hit you harder than you wanted to admit.
You exhaled, steadying yourself. "It’s okay. She’ll be back soon. We can wait together, yeah?"
Still, he hesitated, his big eyes searching yours. And then, after a moment, he lifted his small arms toward you.
You didn’t think. You just reacted.
Scooping him up, you adjusted him onto your hip with practiced ease. He curled into you almost immediately, his little hands gripping onto your clothing, his head tucking under your chin. He was warm, small, and completely trusting.
You rubbed his back lightly, rocking him in place. "You’re okay," you murmured, voice instinctively soothing. "We’ll wait for her right here, okay?"
Hannibal watched the scene with quiet interest. His gaze flicked between you and the child, his expression unreadable, but there was something thoughtful in the way he observed you.
Will, on the other hand, seemed more affected by your reaction. His arms were crossed, lips pressed together as if holding back words. When you glanced at him, he looked at you with something close to understanding. Like he saw something in you that maybe even you didn’t want to acknowledge.
You glanced away, focusing instead on the boy’s steadying breaths. "Just… ridiculous," you muttered. "That someone would leave their kid like this."
Hannibal’s voice cut through smoothly. "Not everyone is fit for parenthood," he said. "Yet many still assume the role."
The words sat uncomfortably with you. Not because they were wrong, but because they were too sharp, too clear.
You didn’t want to think about it.
And then, just as suddenly as she had vanished, the mother reappeared.
She strolled up, holding a bag from one of the stores, looking mildly surprised but not at all concerned. "Oh," she said, blinking at the sight of you holding her child. "He’s fine."
You stared at her.
"Fine?" you echoed. The word sat strangely in your mouth.
She sighed, as if she were the one being inconvenienced. "I just stepped inside for a minute. He knows to wait."
You adjusted the boy in your arms, steadying your tone. "He’s two," you said. "You left him standing alone in a crowded mall."
She shrugged. "He’s not hurt, is he?"
That made something burn in you.
Before you could respond, Hannibal’s voice cut in, deceptively calm. "He was crying," he said. "That is harm enough."
The woman blinked at him, shifting uncomfortably. She glanced between him and Will, perhaps realizing for the first time that she wasn’t just dealing with one person.
Will scoffed, arms still crossed. "Yeah, no big deal," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just a little kid, terrified and alone. No problem."
The woman’s expression hardened. "I know my child," she said, defensive now. "And you don’t need to tell me how to parent."
You took a slow breath, forcing yourself to stay even. "I’m not trying to attack you," you said. "But he was scared. Just... be more careful next time, okay?"
A beat of silence.
Then, with a roll of her eyes, she reached for her son. "Come on, let’s go."
You hesitated before handing him over. He didn’t cry again, but he looked at you one last time, his little fingers flexing like he wanted to hold onto something.
You gave him a small smile, brushing a hand over his hair. "Be good, sweetheart," you murmured.
And then, just like that, they were gone.
The silence between you, Hannibal, and Will lingered.
Will exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Jesus," he muttered. "Some people shouldn’t have kids."
Hannibal hummed in quiet agreement but said nothing. Instead, his gaze lingered on you.
You still felt the warmth of the child in your arms, even though he was gone.
Will nudged you lightly, his tone softer now. "You okay?"
You blinked, rolling your shoulders slightly. "Yeah," you said, shaking off the feeling. "I just... can’t believe she just left him."
Hannibal’s voice was smooth, unintrusive. "You cared quite deeply."
The statement sat in the air, heavy in its simplicity.
You only sighed, rubbing your temple. "He just needed someone to be there."
Hannibal studied you for another long moment, then simply inclined his head. "Indeed."
“I don’t understand why I need to learn this” you speak, your voice barely above a whisper, as if one word said too loudly would cause the trigger to go off from the cold gun settled in your hands. “You know why” is all which Will answers to your question. His one hand finds his way onto the pistol moving it to a better position, while his other hand finds it way around your waist, and lastly his feet kicking yours to keep them apart.
It was supposed to be a calm Saturday morning until Will dragged you into a shooting range and refusing to leave until you learn to defend yourself from the kind of threats that he meets in his line of work constantly. “I have you to protect me if something would happen” you say, trying your best to get him to drop this and to be able to enjoy your weekend the way you intended to. “I won’t always be there” he says, his voice tight “just breath and pull the trigger”. And so you do, barely hitting the target. Even so, it earns you a soft kiss on the top of your head.
requested! sorry for the delay. hope you like it <3
tw! self biting
"stop." you nod absently, mind focused on the soothing ache from your skin. your eyes were on the glowing tv screen, will's voice a pleasant background hum that you don't register initially. you´re sitting beside him in the couch, legs pressed against your chest, socked foot on top of the crochet blanket. your knees are bare, and your mouth is glued to them, your teeth trying to break the supple flesh. "stop it." his voice is stern now, you know he's frowning, and before you can retort, his cold hand creeps behind your neck, under your hair, cupping your nape and squeezing it with little pressure. your mouth, that has been so occupied, unlatches itself from your skin, leaving room for a sigh. will sighs too, in relief, his hand relaxing against your neck, his thumb promptly soothing you. "good." he mutters the same way he does to the dogs, albeit more fondly, and your cheeks burn. you hadnt realize that your teeth were against your skin, a small anxious and old habit that sometimes show itself. your push your knees away from your chest, crescents of teeth imprinted to your skin. one of them is so angry, that it almost matches your burning cheek. you slide away from will in embarrassment. of course, he notices it, and claims your wrist on hi hand, dragging you close to him again, close enough to his lap. you feel like one of his dogs in moments like these, and you huff in protest, noticing the intricate pattern of his new wool sweater. he smiles and kisses your hair. "whats going on inside your mind, that has you baring your teeth?" you roll your eyes, sliding until your entirely on his lap, his hands pulling the blanket to cover your bare skin. you dont know, precisely, what is that is making you anxious in this moment. could be your thesis, could be your work, could be how much you miss your parents, could be your future. probably all. he notices your brows furrowing in concern and tired sighing. will knows, he always does, but he thinks its healthier for you to say it out loud. once he realizes you wont, he squeezes you against his chest, making you yelp. he pulls the blanket off your legs to inspect the new forming bruises on your knees. you feel self-conscious and embarrassed, trying your best to escape his inquiring eyes. (not that you actually want to, you cant recall one time you wanted to be somewhere else other than in his eyes reach.) he holds you still, firm hands against your spasming limbs. you stop fidgeting and he lowers his head, eyes glued to yours, to press his mouth to your teeth marks. you gasp, his mouth is too warm when compared to your bare body, and he smiles against your skin. not the usual smug smirk, but a small, fond smile. he kisses both your knees again, before sitting back against the couch, pulling you in. your creasing face relaxes, your whole body on ease with the aromatic smell of his cologne. "gonna buy you a teether." he mutters against your hair, and you push at him, telling him to fuck off. he laughs, overly pleased in teasing you. you move against him, sliding off his lap to sit back on the couch. "you can bite me next time." he murmurs. "if you want." he adds, eyes looking at the tv, instead of you. there's a small peach hue on his neck and ears and you smirk. you're about to let out a very deviant remark, but his soft voice shushes you. "you shouldn't hurt yourself." you nod, ashamed. will brings a hand to your face, and you notice he is not chastising you, he is worried about you. you bury your face on his hand, thriving on his affection.
Would you consider writing me Hannibal smut where Will saves a victim and the victim gets emotionally attached to him. Then, Will stays with them at the hospital after promising Jack he wouldn’t get attached. Eventually they get discharged and have nowhere to go. Etc.
— Drew
Tethered
Will Graham X gn!reader
Warnings: smut, penetration (p in v), gn!reader, soft sex, kissing, mentions of, wounds (not very descriptive), blood (very tame), no use of y/n, cute ending.
Word count: 1.6K
He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be letting himself get so attached. But he can’t stop himself. The moment he found out you’d been taken, something snapped inside Will. He’d immediately jumped on the task of finding you. Alive. Because finding you in any other state would be unacceptable. Impossible. Heartbreaking. So yes, he would find you, and he would save you.
The warehouse had reeked of blood and damp concrete. Will’s gun still trembled in his hand long after the unsub had dropped to the ground. He hadn’t even thought about it—he’d seen the knife in the man’s hand and had immediately fired a shot. You’d let out a squeal at the sound, which had led him to where you were.
You were lying on your back, hand held over your stomach, your shirt soaked with blood. Will had expected it. Of course he had. It had been the killer’s trademark to slit a “smile-like” gash on his victims’ stomachs. But the sight still made his stomach churn. He’d yelled out for his fellow FBI agents. He stayed kneeling beside you until Jack had come, whispering small words of reassurance.
And when the ambulance had put you on a stretcher and placed you inside, Will had jumped in beside you without a second thought. He’d held your hand the whole way to the hospital, only leaving your side when they took you in for surgery.
Three days later, he was still beside you, his hand placed lightly on yours as you slept. Jack had come in on the fourth day to check on you, and when he found Will asleep in a chair beside your bed, he woke him up and pulled him aside.
“Don’t get attached,” Jack warned. “You did your job. Walk away.”
“I know,” Will replied, even as his gaze lingered on you through the door. “I’m not.”
But he didn’t leave.
You didn’t have anyone listed as an emergency contact. No visitors came. No flowers. Just the long silence of sterile walls and nurses who didn’t know what to say. So Will stayed.
You had been so talkative once, so full of brightness. But now you lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling or sleeping, your body twitching through endless nightmares. It hurt Will to see you like this. So he did everything in his power to make you feel safe.
And one night, when the nightmares had been particularly bad and you’d woken up in a fright, your hand reached for his before you could help it. You knew he shouldn’t be here—visiting hours were long gone. But yet your hand found his.
“You’re still here,” you whispered.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Discharge day came with no fanfare. You had a paper bag of medications, a too-thin hoodie, and nowhere to go.
“I’ll be fine,” you’d said, but your voice cracked on the lie.
Will hesitated in the parking lot. “Come with me.”
You blinked. “What?”
“I’ve got a place. Quiet. Out of the way. You can stay as long as you need.”
Jack’s warning echoed in his mind like a loaded gun. But he chose to ignore it.
Will’s house smelled like wood and dog fur. Winston curled up at your feet immediately, tail thumping gently. It was raining, and the windows fogged over while the fire crackled in the hearth.
Will gave you his room, took the couch without question. But that first night, when your sobs cracked through the walls, he came to the door and didn’t say anything—just held you until you fell asleep again.
Weeks passed. You started to laugh sometimes. You helped with the dogs, cooked when you had energy, sat on the porch when the nightmares left you shaky. And Will was always there. Quiet. Steady.
And then one night, when the power went out in a storm and the fireplace was the only light, you kissed him. It was careful, almost hesitant, but you kissed him like you needed something to hold onto. He stilled. Then kissed you back.
The firelight flickered across your faces, casting shadows that danced with the storm outside. Will’s breath hitched as your lips lingered on his, tentative but desperate, like you were trying to anchor yourself to something real. His hand found the curve of your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.
You trembled, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt as if afraid he might disappear. Will brushed a stray damp strand of hair from your forehead, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin.
“I’m right here,” he murmured, voice low and steady.
Your hands slid up his chest, memorizing the solid warmth beneath your palms. The weight of the world seemed to slip away with each beat of his heart. Slowly, Will’s lips moved from yours to the soft, vulnerable skin of your neck, pressing kisses that spoke of quiet reassurance.
When his hands slipped beneath your shirt, you didn’t pull away. You raised your arms, allowing him to tug the fabric off. He placed a soft kiss on your shoulder, and you shuddered at the feeling of his lips on your skin. He backed away slowly, eyes trailing over your bare chest until they found the scar on your stomach. The memory of how you’d gotten it made his face grimace. His fingers moved over the now-healed cut, tracing it with all the love he could muster.
You placed a hand on his face, causing him to look up at you. His eyes softened at the look on your face. There was a shyness there he had not expected. He kissed you again, a little rougher this time.
“You’re so pretty,” he mumbled against your lips.
The words made your heart soar.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, his voice thick with care.
You shook your head, words failing but your body answering with a soft arch toward him. You pressed closer, your fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck, needing the warmth, the connection. He groaned slightly as you rubbed against his bulge.
“Will,” you whispered.
He looked into your eyes, “Yes?”
“I want you.”
He smiled, a slow, tender curve that made your heart skip.
“Then I’m yours,” he murmured, his hands sliding down your sides, pulling you impossibly closer.
He shifted both of you around so that you were lying on the couch. You widened your legs, allowing him to slot between them. His hand moved to your waistband, giving you one last questioning look before tugging them off. His hands caressed your thighs, eyes raking over your newly exposed skin.
You felt like hiding for a moment, overwhelmed by how vulnerable you suddenly were. But then Will looked at you and gave you the softest smile—and every doubt you had vanished.
He reached down, pulling his sweatpants down just enough to free himself. Then he leaned back over you, kissing you deeper now—slower, but full of the hunger he could no longer hide. You felt him, hard and hot, grinding gently between your legs, and you gasped, arching into him again.
“Ready?”
You nodded.
Both of you moaned as he finally pushed in. Your head tipped back on the couch as Will buried himself to the hilt. Your hands moved over his shoulders, trying to tug him impossibly closer. He let you adjust, forcing himself to stay still even as you clenched around him.
“Move, Will.”
And he did. He started slow—tender—thrusting into you like you were made of something fragile. But then you started clawing at his back, moaning his name, and his control slipped. He moved faster, his hips slamming into you.
All you could do was hold on and feel every inch of him.
Your bodies moved in sync, every thrust a wordless conversation spoken in heat and gasps. Will’s forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged, mixing with yours as your name fell from his lips like a prayer.
“You feel—fuck—you feel so good,” he groaned, hands gripping your hips tighter, grounding himself in the sensation of you.
You couldn’t respond—your voice had melted into moans and whimpers—but your body spoke for you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, taking him deeper, needing more. Needing all of him.
His pace grew frantic, desperate, driven by the way you clenched around him and whispered his name like it was the only word you knew. He dipped his head, kissing you again—sloppy, needy—like he couldn’t get close enough no matter how hard he tried.
“I’m close,” he whispered against your mouth, voice shaking.
You nodded, dizzy from the pressure building inside you. “Me too,” you managed to gasp, your nails digging into his back.
He shifted, angling his hips just right—and stars exploded behind your eyes. You cried out, clinging to him as your release tore through you, your whole body trembling.
Will followed seconds later, his own climax crashing into him with a deep moan as he buried himself inside you one last time.
For a moment, neither of you moved. You lay tangled together, bodies slick with sweat, breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath. He brushed a strand of hair from your forehead before placing a kiss on your cheek.
“You okay?” he asked softly, still a little breathless.
“I’m perfect,” you sighed. “Thank you, Will. For this—for letting me crash here, for caring, for sticking around.”
He smiled, warm and full of something deeper than lust—something tender. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good.”
And with that, you nuzzled into him, closing your eyes and letting sleep take over.
For the first time in weeks, you slept through the night without a single issue.
hii! i hope its okay to request, idk how to do it properly yet🥹
how about a will x reader story? it could be fluff, maybe something like living in his cabin, and its winter and cold, and something domestic and cute with his dogs and reader<3
(and maybe smut at the end...?👀👀👀 only if youre comfortable ofc)
ofc!!! This is so adorable!!
'permanent chill'
🖋️ Will Graham x fem!reader
🎞️ Hannibal (2013)
🗝️ 18+ MDNI, smut, munch!will graham, mentions of blood, will’s lowkey a begger but a man that yearns is a man who earns!
Wolftrapp was always way too cold for your liking.
No matter how high Will would turn up the heating to the point that he was comfortable paying the prices for (not very high, obviously) or however many layers of clothes or blankets you wore on a regular basis around his house, there was always a permanent chill in your bones that wouldn’t go away. Like tonight.
This case had been a particularly bad one for your boyfriend. None of them were ever particularly good, with him constantly struggling with his empathy disorder going awry during the examination of crime scenes, but this time felt different. The way he dragged himself through the door, shoulders slumped and head hung low, barely said hello to the dogs and flopped down wordlessly next to you on the sofa on top of the mountain of blankets you had stacked there, you could tell something was off.
“Bad one today?”, you asked softly, sitting up slightly, shutting your laptop and placing it down on the side table next to you.
“They just seem to get worse”, he sighed, turning to you slightly. Some parts of his face were stained red, and you assumed it was (but really hoped that it wasn’t) blood.
“Oh honey”, you cooed, standing up and moving so that you were opposite him, “let’s get you washed up, yeah? Then we can get some food in you and go to bed”.
Will took his hands in yours and let you help him upright. As soon as he was at the same level as you, he latched onto you like a koala, burying his face in your neck and mumbling something along the lines of “not hungry” and “missed you”, before squeezing you tighter.
You decided it was best to not argue with him, knowing he would insist even if the food was in front of his face and being hand fed to him. Instead, you tightened your grip on him momentarily before loosening it, and directed him to the kitchen sink where he could wash away the remnants of the day that stained his hands and face.
You watched carefully as he scrubbed his face and beard with the dish soap, not really caring as some of the foam splashed onto the floor, counter and kitchen cupboards. He dried his face with the same vigour and carelessly tossed the towel somewhere in the kitchen and once again latched onto you.
“M’kay you big baby, let’s get you to bed yeah?”, you chuckled, and led him to his bedroom. You carefully peeled each layer of clothing off of his aching body, seeing the stress of the day physically come off as each item was removed, and left him in his boxers before he grabbed a fresh t-shirt.
He flopped onto the bed as you copied his actions, taking off your clothes until you were left just in your underwear and grabbed one of his jumpers from his wardrobe, before following suit and ending up right next to him in the bed. Under the covers, Will huddled up next to you, one arm under your back and the other resting across your stomach, with his thumb stroking your hip bone.
The quietness was peaceful. Your hands passed through his hair, pulling apart any tangled locks that your fingers came across. The soft breathing of Will next to you and the methodical movement of his thumb along your hip and stomach was almost enough to lull you to sleep, until a few soft, barely-there kisses were pressed against the side of your neck.
“Will-”, you moaned softly, as his thumb dipped under the band of your underwear and the kisses moved up your neck, across your jaw and up to your lips where his mouth met yours. His kisses were soft and slow, but you could feel a small amount of desperation in them that he was trying to hold back as the movements of his thumb changed to his fingers and they moved closer towards your pussy.
“Please, let me- I need this. I need you. Please”, he mumbled breathlessly as he pulled away from your mouth, your eyes meeting that sad puppy dog look he always gave that you could never say no to.
“M’kay baby, take what you need, I got you”, you replied, and he wasted absolutely no time in moving his hands to shove his jumper further up your torso, allowing you to sit up slightly to let him pull it over your head and toss it carelessly across his bedroom.
“God, you’re so beautiful- how did I get so lucky?”, he murmured, almost as if to himself, as he planted wet kisses along your collarbone and moved further down to your covered nipples. He took one in his mouth, not even bothering to move your bra aside and alternated between sucking, biting and then licking as his hand moved to grasp the other under your bra. He grasped and pinched with the same fervour as his mouth, and the double stimulation had you feeling the crotch of your underwear clinging to you the wetter you got.
“Will-, oh fuck-, please. Plea- please touch me, god”, you babbled, already unable to form a coherent sentence, but he got the jist.
He pulled away from your chest, leaving a darkened wet spot over one side of your bra where his mouth had just been, and looked up at you, eyes full of lust and longing, before trailing down your stomach with hot, wet kisses until he reached the bottom of your stomach where your underwear sat, and looked up once more with a questioning look on his face. You nodded quickly and tilted your hips up, allowing him to slide them down your thighs and past your ankles, where they were tossed away, joining the jumper he’d thrown in that vicinity before.
Your legs spread almost instinctively as Will repositioned himself, hovering over you and taking in your blissed out form. Legs spread, arms slightly contorted in positions he didn’t believe were possible and your chest heaving up and down in short breaths, not just from horniness but from the cold passing over your half-naked body as you waited longingly for your boyfriend's warm touch.
“All of this, just for me, baby?”, Will drawled teasingly. A singular finger trailed upwards towards your clit, collecting your wetness and spreading it around in slow, teasing circles. A whimper left your mouth as you tried your best to form a full sentence in your brain before you spoke.
“Mmph- yes, all f’you. God, please Will”. Not a full sentence, but you were too hyper focused on your boyfriend's thick fingers slowly teasing you and your entrance to really care.
One of the first things you figured out about Will, sexually, is that he is a god at eating pussy. He will eat it like it’s his last meal on Earth and he will do it every single time without fail, and today was no exception. A smile grew on his face before he leant down, large hands anchoring your hips to the bed as he darted his tongue up and down, drinking up your juices as if they were his lifeline and he was on the verge of death. Your hands flew into the slight curls atop his head, pulling as his tongue circled your clit, gripping as he allowed his teeth to slightly graze it in the spot that blurred your vision, and pushing his head down to allow him to push his tongue into your still leaking entrance.
Even after being with you for so short of a time, Will knew the tell-tale signs that you were about to cum, and what you needed to push you over the edge into pure ecstasy and bliss. Your grip on his hair grew stronger as your hips rocked, grinding on his face, and with a swift movement, two thick fingers entered you, curling up and up further until he felt the spongy spot inside of you and rubbed it tauntingly, all while never stopping the ministrations on your clit.
“Holy shit- fuck- oh my god, I’m gonna cum”. Your words came out in short breaths, and no response came verbally, just more pressure from Will’s fingers inside of you and his tongue speeding up.
“Will oh my f- shit I’m cumming- oh god I love you, I love you, I lov-”
Your orgasm crashed over you hard and fast, making you scream, with stars lining the edge of your vision, thighs clamping tightly around his head and walls clenching around his fingers. A low, guttural groan came from between your legs as Will’s tongue slowed and his fingers pulled out of you slowly, being careful not to overstimulate you too far. Without noticing, however, he’d been rutting his hips against the bed while coaxing you through your orgasm, and the groan that left his mouth while you came was from him cumming on his own.
“Did you-”, you began, taking a glance at the large wet patch on his boxers before he climbed back into bed with you and pulled the covers over the both of you, planting a large kiss on your lips to stop you from talking.
“Yes, best orgasm of my life. I love making you feel good”, he chuckled against your lips, placing another kiss against your hair and cuddling right back up next to you and hugging you tightly as if not only moments ago he had you seeing stars as he devoured between your legs. You hummed lightly in amusement and bliss as you got yourself comfortable, letting your head rest on his shoulder and breathing the woody, smoky and slightly sweaty scent from his neck.
Once again, it was peacefully quiet. His hands ran over the top of your head, moving in methodical circles as if giving you a massage, and your post-orgasmic haze meant you were drifting off quicker than usual. Just before the point of complete unawareness and darkness, Will whispered one final “I love you more”. The first time he had said it.
And suddenly, being in Wolftrapp in your boyfriend’s baltic cabin didn’t leave a permanent chill in your bones anymore. Everything was warm.
thinking about weekends away with will graham, watching him fish, bringing each other coffee in the morning, sitting by the log burner in some cabin in the middle of the woods
pairing: will graham x gn!reader
genre: comfort
notes: nobody can stop me from making will being pet, also, winner of another poll (I like polls okay...)
will is your bf/partner and he's... not really a morning person, little head canon imagine guys you know the drill by now... :3
MINORS DNI!!
masterlist
─── ꒰ ☕️ ꒱ ───
Mornings with Will are slow and messy.
He always shuffles around the kitchen half-awake, hair sticking up in every direction, glasses crooked, reheating the coffee for about the third time now...
You, on the other hand, are fully awake, and maybe even a bit mischievous.
Sometimes that means smacking his ass when he least expects it.
This morning, you hit a little harder than usual.
Will lets out a startled yelp, "Y/N–!"
You just hum innocently, handing him the single sugar cube for his coffee
"Hm?" you innocently hum
He groans, rubbing his backside as he sips his coffee, glaring at you through half-lidded eyes.
"... Did you have to hit me that hard?"
You laugh, stepping closer and brushing stray curls out of his face before pressing soft kisses to his cheek and nose.
"I plead innocence, Agent Graham..."
He mumbles something about your innocence being highly questionable, but he melts immediately when you keep kissing him.
One of his dogs whines at your feet, tail wagging impatiently.
Will bends down automatically, scratching behind their ears.
"Looks like someone else wants attention...."
You scoff dramatically at being momentarily ignored… then reach down and start petting Will's head too, fingers scratching gently through his curls.
He freezes momentarily and then looks up at you slowly...
"…Are you seriously petting me?"
You only smile and keep going.
Will's protests die quickly. His eyes flutter shut as he leans into your hand, a soft, embarrassed sound slipping from his throat.
You tease him quietly, calling him your little puppy, fingers massaging his scalp just the way he likes.
"Don't... don't tell Jack you call me that."
You tug him closer instead, letting his head rest against your chest while you press soft kisses into his hair.
"You know I'd never."
Will sighs, deep and content, arm sliding around your waist.
The dog eventually wanders off, clearly defeated by the competition and rests on the floor.
You smile, petting the shorter hair at the back of his head, pressing another kiss to the top of his head. "Someone's still sleepy, huh… pup?"
He grumbles weakly, "I'm not a puppy..."
You ask if he wants to go back to bed or get ready for work.
Will sighs, torn, eyes half-lidded as he peers up at you.
"…Jack would kill me if I skipped. There's a briefing at nine."
He pauses, tightening his grip around you. "…But I can be five minutes late."
You laugh softly as he leans almost his full weight against you.
"Alri– Will, you're heavy."
"M'not heavy…"
You suggest five minutes on the couch instead.
He agrees instantly.
Five minutes turns into Will sprawled across you like an oversized puppy
