Just a little side note, while reading you’ll probably fine some common themes I like to weave into a lot of things like baking, dogs (obviously), and high level academia.
Also! If you have any requests or ideas, please don't hesitate to reach out. I'm open to hear what you want me to write about.
Will Graham
The Space Between Us: Will Graham is drawn to one of the FBI's new hires whose late-night visits to his class become the only solace in his chaotic world.
Where Fear Rests: When a brilliant profiler is pulled back into the field to help solve a brutal case, she forms an unexpected connection with Will Graham.
First Times: When Will's graduate student lets it slip how inexperienced she is with relationships, Will decides he wants to help.
Unspoken Tension: There has been a lot of unspoken tension between Professor Graham and a recent graduate of the program (this is very different than what I normally write so proceed with caution haha)
Cabin Fever: When a winter storm traps her with the one man she’s spent months denying, secrets melt, boundaries blur, and both are forced to confront the love they’ve been too afraid to claim.
Quiet Waters: When a string of difficult cases forces behavioral analyst (Y/N) to take leave from the FBI, her boyfriend Will Graham offers her quiet refuge at his cabin, where early mornings, fishing trips, and unexpected comfort slowly remind her what it feels like to be safe again.
The Writer Next Door: When a bubbly crime novelist moves into the cabin next door, Will Graham expects the woods to stay quiet. Instead, he finds himself slowly drawn into her world of questions, stories, and a connection he doesn’t quite know how to name.
Hannibal Lecter
That was Impulsive: When Will Graham’s dog sitter, his loud, loyal high school friend, crosses paths with Dr. Hannibal Lecter, a quiet evening turns into the start of something neither of them expected, especially not under Will’s watchful eye.
The Southern Belle and the Cannibal: With cowboy boots, baked goods, and a heart too big for her own good, she never expected to unravel the most controlled man in the room.
Life is Short, Eat Dessert First: Will Graham's best friend moves to be closer to him and she shares the same hobby as Hannibal.
His Sunshine: Hannibal Lecter's neighbor is a bubbly and bright high school math teacher who can only be described as "Sunshine".
Series
Will Graham; Delicate Threats: When the daughter of the BAU’s biggest benefactor becomes a target, Will Graham is tasked with protecting her, but neither of them is prepared for what it means to truly be seen.
Will trying to focus working but reader is under the desk edging him 😭
im ovulating
y'all are planning to kill me with these.
"stop that", his voice echoes the empty classroom. Someone passing by the open door would think he has gone completely mad after the cases he worked on.
His handwriting keeps messing up. Spelling mistakes or letters that don't even exist. He should have never agreed to this. Never let you sit under the table and torture him.
But how could he refuse? You begged so pretty. "I'll be good, I promise", devils words, he believes. Your eyes looking at him. Brows furrowed with such desperation. He was a weak man for you.
Pushing his chair back a bit as he looked down. On your knees as she continued to press kisses on his cock. Your dark lipstick now faded across your lips. Imprints of it, darker to lighter, littered his cock.
That's what you have been doing. For the last 30 minutes. Kissing it, sometimes occasionally licking the tip to taste his precum. Bitter, but you never complained.
He wants to take your name, tell you to quit it. But he can't. It's too risky. Agreeing with you was always risky.
Still, your name falls from his lips as he leans back in his chair. The pencil dropping on the page he was writing. He can't even catch a break with you. Letting out a deep hum as his hand tucks your hair behind your ear.
Your eyes looking up at him as you pulled off, still having your hand around his width. He knew what you were doing. Teasing him, tormenting him until he gave what you wanted.
He felt ashamed of himself. Having a pretty thing like you on your knees, nearly half his age. And still getting hard like a teenager who is about to cum in just a few minutes.
His hand goes to the back of your head as guides his tip to your lips. "Open", he jests. You did. The tip brushing against your tongue making him part his lips. Fuck, he's sensitive.
It hitting the back of your throat. Making you breath in through your nose. You looked so pretty, Will groaned. His lips parted, like it was getting harder for him to breathe.
The hand at the back of your head now guided your head. Will could cum just at the sight of you. Making him buck his hips. Was it because you teased him for so long, because he is too close to cumming.
"oh— baby, agh—", he looked down at you. Brow creased. Lips parting before he licked them. Taking his bottom lip in-between his teeth to muffle his groans.
Your head moving faster. Saliva escaping from the corner of your lips and to your chin. Trying to breathe through your nose but choking, making your splutter around him. Gagging.
But he didn't care, not right now. You're fine. His hips bucking up as he breathed heavier and heavier. Pushing your head all the way, your hands grabbing his thigh and hip.
Not even a minute later he whimpered. The hot cum sliding down your throat. Not even tasting it before it went down. His eyes closed, hand shaking around your hair. Feet kicking at the ground before it passed in waves.
Finally, letting you go as he pulled you off. His softening cock slipping out of your mouth. His shaky hands brushing your hair away as he took a tissue from his table. Wiping away the spit and some of his cum from your lips and chin.
You smiled as you looked up at him, "are you less stressed?", you asked. Teasing. He looked at you before humming.
You'll give him a heart attack one day. But he'll make sure its when he is between your legs, while being suffocated from your pretty cunt.
a/n: Will shakes like crazy when he cums and you can't change my mind.
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.
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
The heavy steps could be heard from outside the door. His every step hurried, mixed with weight. Weight of his worries? Exhaustion? Or just simply his mind.
Some of the dogs perked up. Catching his scent. The knob twisted twice before opening. Closing just as quick. You could hear that he is back. The dogs barked as they saw him. Jumping on him, trying to get his attention but it wasn't on them at the moment.
You, blissfully unaware of the storm that was his mind right now, stirred the tea. One tea bag, two spoons of sugar and a pinch of salt. Just how you like it.
You could hear the footsteps. Thud, thud, thud against the hallway. Making you raise your brow. You stepped away from the counter, tea forgotten as you peak your head out to hallway.
You saw him, but only for a second. Before you could even ask, his lips were on yours. Soft. His hand came up to hold the back of your neck, holding you still as he licked his way in between your lips.
A man starved is what would be used to describe him right now. In a moment of surprise, you pushed at his chest. Only for his free hand to come and wrap around your wrist, pulling it away.
Backing you up against the counter. The steam of the tea still wafted in the air. You could feel yourself running out of air. A small distressed sound leaving your lips against his, the sound almost swallowed by him before he pulled back.
Looking down at you, your chest heaved with every breath you took. Up and down, over and over but it felt like the air just wasn't entering your lungs. His lips moved to you jaw. Kissing down to the side of your neck.
"need you. . Need you so bad." He whispered against your skin. Tainting it with his words. "Please—", he stepped closer. The words covered in desperation. His body pushing against yours. As if wanting to mend and be one.
He wants to be close. As close as physically possible. At this moment, he feels like the only way he could breathe is through you. His lips found yours again. His hand leaving your wrist to wrap around your waist. Pulling you close.
Hands placed under your thighs to lift you up. Lips still attached, swallowing every sound, every whisper of any word.
Walking to the living room. Sitting on the chair as he placed you on his lap. One hand leaving to unbuckle his belt. Teeth nipping at your bottom lip, making you whimper. Your hands loop around his neck, one hand in his soft curls.
He unbuttoned his jeans, pulling the zipper down as he pulled his cock out. Hard and seeking attention. It almost looked painful. Using his arm wrapped around your waist to lift you up, having your weight on your knees as he pulls your shorts down, just enough.
Using his spit, to coat his tip as he run it between your silken folds before letting you sink down his length. His mouth gaped, head tilted down, as a strangled breath left him.
Your grip on his tightened. Feeling him, in you, was a feeling you will never be used to. "Ah— Will. .", you whispered. Your face going into hide. Forehead against his shoulder. Your hips squirmed, starting to move but his hands firmly placed on them.
"ju— just stay. Like this", he whispered. His voice shaky. Vulnerable. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back, he swallowed thickly. His dry throat bobbing as he did. "I need this", he whispered softly.
The feeling of you, felt like he could breathe. Like the haze in his clouded mind has finally cleared. Wafting away like the steam of the forgotten tea.
p-i-v s*x, reader is will's coworker, semi-smut, soft!will
what started off as a few friendly drinks at will's house, turned into heavy breathing, sweaty bodies slipping over each other and will's bed creaking under as he snapped his hips to yours. maybe this is what he planned all along, you thought to yourself. everyone around your work have commented on his closeness with you, how he always stood by you. so why did he invite you to his, greeting you to his family of dogs, just to rid of your clothes and fuck into you?
no. it wasn't fucking. he was making love. his whispered your name in your ear like it was a symphony. chanting your name like a prayer every time his cock slid in and out of your cunt. he haeld you like a man would hold his wife. the marks on your skin weren't from a one-time thing. he made sure the marks were visible through your normal attire. like his was marking you as his, his treasure, his queen.
"[name]...please..." you don't know as to what he was begging for. a release? "i needed this..." he admits, resting his head on your shoulder as he lazily humps into you, chasing his orgasm. will was practically worshipping you. he made sure you were comfortable. comfortable with all this. he even gave you a pillow to support your neck throughout all this. the only thing you could remember before going to sleep was will brokenly whining your name as he reached his orgasm.
----
your eyes flutter open as the sun peeks through the blinds. you assumed that you ran out of his house after that ordeal, embarrassed that you slept with your coworker, your coworker that you have to see almost every day of the week. that was until your nerves started to wake up. will's face was pressed into the nape of your neck, his arm slung over your midsection, holding you. "oh my god..." you whisper to yourself. you look through the room, scouting out your clothes. you manage to escape his grasp, putting on your clothes. as you made your escape from his room, a floorboard creaks under your feet, waking will up.
he rubs his eyes, getting accustomed to his room again. "where are you going?" he groggily asks. "home..." you answer, leaning towards his bedroom door. "don't you want coffee or something?" he tries. "i can stop at a cafe when i get in town." "please don't go."
that stops you. here, will graham, the most anti-social, introverted man you know, begging for your company. "i didn’t want last night to be a one night thing. i wanted it to be special. for us." he admits. "truth is..." he sighs, stopping himself before continuing. "i want to pursue something between us. honestly. i feel something strong for you that i can't shake off. and i don't want to either. i feel my heart explode when-" you stop him. "i get it, will. we can talk about it over the coffee you offered." you give him a soft smile. that was all it took for will to hop out of the bed, starting the coffee.
Physical touch was as familiar to him as any other, subtle touches that are for the most part-- accidental. Fingers brushing against another's when handing something to them, vise-versa.
He never knew that being single for as long as he's been, especially considering how his mind works, or rather-- how it doesn't at times.. it can be unbelievably lonely. Depressing even.
But when you became his light, his reason for changing up his cheap aftershave... that deprevation was no longer. Neither of you would have to say a word, and you would pull together like magnets.
You'll be sitting on the couch, going over a new case file and it's descriptions, and he'll come out of the bathroom after a long shower, dark hair still dripping wet. He just sits next to you and it's mere instinct.
Your left hand lifts up toward the back of his neck, rubbing it with your thumb before pecking his cheek with a subtle sweetness that makes him absolutely melt. His heart hammering in his chest like a lovesick boy confessing his crush to a girl in elementary.
You know he loves it, but you also know he needs it. It drives him. Makes him feel more content being as he is, what he does. You end up completely discarding the file, tossing it to the side table as he pulls you toward him, arms wrapping around your lower waist, dipping his head down and kissing you in a way that drives the both of you mad.
This was all he's ever wanted, and he's never going to let anyone take it from him.
Here's to the people who weren't abused by their parents, but whose parents sucked anyways. Here's to people whose parents fucked up raising you out of ignorance and not malice. Here's to the kids whose parents didn't know what to do with you so they did nothing at all. Here's to people whose parents are getting better and growing as people but still hurt you. Here's to every mean comment that wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't come from your mom; here's to awkward family dinners because you're all trying to forget;
here's to you, survivor of a thousand 'not as bad as it could have been' hurts. I see you. You aren't alone.
Steve's eyes somehow looked bluer as they reflected the wonders of the sea back to you. Your hand in his as you strolled down the walkways of the aquarium, staring in awe at the beauty of the world's most fascinating creatures.
Steve likes to savor the moment and the view. Taking his time on the date with you, frequently pausing to take pictures of you and him with a disposable camera (he prefers those), and sitting with you on benches and viewing points to hold you close while you live in the moment. Letting time pass in each other's arms, basked in the prettiest of blues, watching the fish dance with each other through the water.
Despite the wonders around you, Steve finds his gaze always coming back to you.
I think any date with Steve would lead to the sweetest moments.🥺❤️ Thank you for for sending this in for my sleepover @writing-for-marvel!! ♡♡♡
I think one of the reasons drag kings aren’t as popular as drag queens, aside from the fact that straight women don’t like us, is that people are uncomfortable acknowledging masculinity as a performance. Like we as a society know that femininity is a performance, with its own costumes and rules. Masculinity is also a performance, and nothing makes that more clear than someone making an exaggeration of it
Even more :) If you dont see visually interesting and amazing drag kings on your feed you are not paying enough attention, go and find them! Here’s some that I know!
Showponii (from brooklyn, femgay drag king and AMAZING performer!)
The Cakeboys (a drag king collective made of sweaty eddie, senario, muscles monty, and richard!)
Henlo Bullfrog (from philly, also has made costumes for drag race!!)
TJ MAXX! (MUA! Amazing artist too)
KLONDYKE! One of the most amazing performance artists i’ve ever had the pleasure of watching
ZANAX ! Philly and NYC, some of the coolest visuals in drag right now
And that’s that follow more kings on insta thats where the drags all post for event promotion :-))
I'm adding onto this post to give you THROB ZOMBIE, the Horror Himbo (tm), aka my hometown intro to drag. He's pretty big now after coming in 2nd on the Dragula show, but even his early stuff was so creative and weird and interesting (and a big part of my gender coming-out process lol)
so, anyway do y’all ever just AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH AAAAAAAAHHHHH AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH AAAAAHHHHHHH AAAAHHHHH AAAAHHHHHHH AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH AAAAAHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAHHHHHH AAAAHHHHHHHHH you know what i mean
Had to ban the phrase “tricky dick” from my classroom during watergate lesson because saying the word dick in front of 30 fifteen year olds is like lighting a bomb and throwing it through the doorway but now they’re just calling him Richard the Treacherous like they’re all medieval peasants. gonna lose it
dailybridgerton
origamiaround
prguitarman
gummygunk
areudirty
stormborns
