howishughdancyevenpossible said: Is it possible that Hannibal put together that Will was into somnophilia but never got to try it with any of his previous partners so Hannibal suggested that Will drug him and have his filthy way with his body~? #BringOnTheFilthySin
Oh my god…I mean, I just visualised it as Hannibal being the one doing the fucking, but you put it like that and now I’m like…*fuck* that is hot. I have to write this now. I think I might end up writing two different versions.
You need to stop whispering things like this in my ear…
Basic Chickens AU (Elias [Mads from Men & Chicken]/Adam Towers [Hugh from Basic Instinct 2] (blame lies solely with @howishughdancyevenpossible )
Part 1: Adam Towers chases a story he didn’t want to begin with and finds himself staying at an asylum with five brothers–one of which might lead to something even more promising than fame.
It’s creepy as hell and Adam could only blame himself and his bleeding heart. A favor to a friend of a friend of a friend of, what he was assured to be, a very good friend and now he was stuck in a defunct mental asylum in a practically abandoned town with five brothers–three of which almost assaulted him with a taxidermy bird, a laughably large pot, and a rolling pin–and a useless rental car that wouldn’t start because there might be a story.
A big, very important story that would put Adam’s name everywhere.
It was all fucked, though. He might get murdered tonight. Or worse.
If he lived through this he was going to go on a killing spree himself.
There was a knock on the bathroom door. It’s the third time. He shouted out a few garbled Danish words that might mean ‘just a minute’ without putting much thought into them.
He was tired and soaked through with rain and really, it had been a rough day and even after a hot shower the idea of going to sleep in this place with these people was putting him more and more on edge.
He wanted to go home. He couldn’t. He would live through the night and he would write the best damn piece and then he would murder a few people back in London.
Just thinking about it made him feel better, though he was still incredibly happy he’d packed a bottle of whiskey. Foresight, that’s what he had. In small amounts apparently.
I’m too nice, Adam thought. Not believing himself for a minute.
Another knock. Adam ground his teeth.
He glared into the mirror and the bags already forming ugly under his eyes. Combed his wet hair back with his fingers and made sure the towel around his waist was firmly tied. He’d taken plenty of self-defense classes and knew how to punch a man so he wouldn’t get up again or knock on a door for the thousandth time like some lunatic–
Adam flung the door open, it banged against the wall. “What?” He said curtly, glaring and knowing his glare was top-notch and pristine.
So Hannibal spends Will’s heat with him right? Cuz hello, Omega twink, fuck yes! The red dinner happens, Hannibal snags Will’s coat and takes off. What he does though is let hang dry along with his blood soaked shirt. Soaked in WILL’S blood. He seals them both away to preserve the scent of Will to indulge in at a later date when its not quite so painful.
A year passes, Hannibal learns Will is looking for him and he decides that now, NOW he can indulge in the scent of his mate. Because if Hannibal has learned one thing is that Will is irrevocably his mate and a year without him has not made the pain less, only worse and he thinks that smelling Will will act at least as a bandage to the festering would he’s had this whole year.
The first whiff when he opens the bag that held the shirt and jacket triggers a memory, something he had repressed, or more accurately, denied, when he first cut into the omega. He sniffs and sniffs and with numb fingers makes a call. Then another, then another until he gets the hospital where Will stayed.
A few well placed phrases and he convinces them that he is Will’s dotcor in Italy and Will was hurt and he needed to know what happened the night Will was brought in. He asks the other doctor to read him the charts
“Patient was approximately 4 weeks pregnant”
is the last thing he hears before the phone drops from his suddenly numb hand, the word WAS reverberating through his head.
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Hannibal (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter Characters: Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, Beverly Katz Additional Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Age Difference, College Student Will Graham, older bad boy hannibal, Leather Jackets, Dirty Talk, Feminization, Minor Violence, commission, lord jesus its a fire, Sassy Will Graham, Motorcycles, Based on a Tumblr Post, howishughdancyevenpossible, Hannibal is Hannibal, Rimming, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Lollipops, Chicken McNuggets, Cuddling & Snuggling, I just like adding tags, will graham is will graham, Will is fatally attracted to violence and Hannibal is fatally attracted to Will, tbh, the usual Summary:
Will Graham is a wealthy, bratty criminal justice major who is in for a real shock when the dangerous man he’s been teasing for weeks takes him out for a night on the town on the back of his motorcycle.
for @howishughdancyevenpossible whose post (here) inspired me to write today’s advent fic, they were so kind as to let me run with their idea. Thank you again my dear!
this took on a life of it’s own.
Will woke to the early morning sun that poured through the
wide multi-paned windows that stretched across one wall of the bedroom he
shared with Hannibal. He yawned and stretched, luxuriating in the cool silk
sheets below him in the three years at Hannibal’s side after their fall, Will
found himself growing more and more comfortable with Hannibal’s expensive
tastes and in turn Hannibal’s had found himself enjoying the simple things in
life. It’s safe to say they spoiled each other, immensely.
One good example of how Will spoiled his husband were the
overnight cinnamon rolls that were waiting for him downstairs, from the first
moment he had tasted them Hannibal had absolutely adored them and now he never
stopped pestering Will to reveal his secret recipe. Will never did, he only
smiled and shook his head every time Hannibal asked much to the man’s chargin.
But because of his love for Will’s cinnamon rolls it was now a sort of
tradition that they had them every Saturday morning and Will would bring them
up to Hannibal to wake him up in the morning. Another thing Hannibal had grown
used to these past three years was sleeping in, who would have guessed the
doctor was truly someone who would rather stay in bed than get up and start the
day. Now that he didn’t have patients calling him at all hours of the day or
night and the fact that they were relatively safe in their homey Parisian
cottage, having been declared dead back in the states, he found no reason to
keep up the pretense of the early riser doctor. Will on the other had could
never get the hang of sleeping too late, like clockwork he got up hours before Hannibal
to let the dogs out and start breakfast, which was now his responsibility
alone. He figured it was from the years of working early mornings in the
boatyard with his dad and years of FBI work, he never minded though it meant he
got to see his sleepy cannibal wake up with yawns, soft smiles, and morning
Speaking of the devil, Will turned on his side to look at
his husband of three years who snored softly next to him. He lay on his stomach
facing Will, the fingers of one hand pressed loosely to his lips as the other
was curled up and around his pillow. Will grinned as he sat up letting the
light his Hannibal’s face, who turned his head and snuffled into his pillow
already mumbling for just five more minutes. Will pressed a kiss to his bare
shoulder and then again behind his ear, pushing away Hannibal’s long shoulder
length hair away with his hand Will whispered in his ear.
“I’ll come back with some coffee, hmmm?”
Hannibal nodded already drifting back under as Will slipped
out of bed, not bothering to gather up the silk bathrobe as he’d soon be
covered in flour anyway. On his way to the bathroom he stopped to pet
Encephalitis, their three legged dachshund who was flopped on its back asleep
in the swell of Hannibal’s sheet covered ass. With all his hesitation Hannibal
had taken a liking to the dog, breaking his own rule of no dogs in the bed when
he bought her little stairs that led up to their bed to make it easier for her
to join them at night. Encephalitis chuffed herself awake and bounced down the
stairs to join him in the bathroom as he relieved himself. She followed him
down the stairs and into the kitchen where he opened the sliding glass door
that led to the backyard and let her out. He left the door open to let her come
and go as she pleased while he set out to make coffee and boil the water to
help the rolls rise. As the coffee steeped in the French press Will retrieved
the p remade rolls from the fridge and placed them in the cold oven and put a
pan of boiling hot water underneath the rolls and shut the door, there they
would stay for thirty minutes.
During that time he poured Hannibal a large mug of strong
coffee, still puttering around the house in just his boxer-briefs Will brought
the coffee back upstairs and into their bedroom. Where he set it down on the
nightstand before turning with his hands on his hips to take in his husband,
who now was on his back head turned away from the sun. Encephalitis had found
herself back in bed with Hannibal, cradled in the crook of his arm. Will ran
his fingers through the hair on Hannibal’s chest and rubbed his stomach,
massaging the heel of his hand into the scar there. Leaning over he pressed feather
light kisses to the corner of Hannibal’s mouth, the man hummed but showed no
signs of joining the waking world.
“Hannibal, come on. Start waking up for me, I brought
Hannibal nodded and mumbled a groggy thank you, but nuzzled
back into his pillow resolutely refusing to wake. Will really hadn’t expected
anything different; he loved it when Hannibal was like this, the man’s trust
firmly in Will’s hands as he gluttoned on sleep. He only smiled and pressed
another kiss to Hannibal’s forehead and rubbed his belly for a few more moments
watching as he slept.
Finally deeming that it was time to get the rolls baking
Will made his wake back down stairs. Removing the pan of water he emptied it and
put it on the stove to make the icing, he turned on the oven and started the
timer. He had some time before he needed to start the icing so he poured
himself some coffee and spooned in two sugars, he checked the news in both
Paris and America on Hannibal’s tablet. When he could smell the cinnamon and
yeast Will began the hot cream cheese icing, as a last thought Will took out
another pan and started frying up slices of “long pig” bacon. This
particular one was rather rude, daring to touch himself as he peeked through
windows at children, definitely not something neither Will nor Hannibal could
When the timer went off and the bacon was crispy and
draining on some paper towels, Will removed them from the oven and turned it
off. Setting the tray on the counter he turned and took up the icing and drizzled
a generous amount all over each roll which were easily the size of Hannibal’s
palm, when done he set six cinnamon rolls on a separate tray to sit in the
pantry to stale so he could use them to make bread pudding for tomorrow’s
dessert, if Hannibal could keep his mitts off of them. On his way back into the
kitchen he snagged the breakfast tray and piled four rolls along with the bacon
and his own topped off cup of coffee along with a carafe of fresh coffee, and
made his way back upstairs.
In the bedroom Hannibal hadn’t moved an inch, still sprawled
out on his back. Will shook his head and set the breakfast tray on the bed and
climbed into it to join Hannibal. Now more persistent to wake Hannibal, his
kisses were harder and his touch more insistent. He rubbed circles on Hannibal’s
belly and chest each one brought Hannibal a little closer to consciousness,
Will murmured gently calling him to eat.
“Come on Hannibal, time to wake up I’ve brought
breakfast. It’s Saturday so cinnamon rolls are in store for you if you wake
Hannibal’s eyebrows rose but didn’t open his eyes as he took
a deep breath in, “You’ve made bacon as well.”
Will nodded even though Hannibal couldn’t see him, he took
Encephalitis in his arms and moved her away to Hannibal could sit up. Though
instead of sitting Hannibal rose to lean back on his elbows to gaze at Will
with naked adoration in his eyes, lips quirked in a soft smile that was just
“You look radiant this morning Will.”
Will laughed and kissed Hannibal who happily returned it,
“You say that every morning.”
“And each morning it becomes truer than the last,
Prompted by howishughdancyevenpossible: 1960’s Omega!Will buys a beautiful dollhouse, what he doesn’t know is that it’s haunted by (spirit, demon??) Alpha!Hannibal! Close friends of Will notice that he acts different almost as if he’s being courted and that he speaks about somebody named Hannibal… but nobody ever sees them together. I hope that has enough halloween spirit!! >///< Thank you ♥
If Will concentrated, he could pick out the distinct song of Swainson’s Thrush, pitched a few octaves higher than the soft rush of traffic of the local highway, just outside the suburb.
He’d always loved their song best, he meditated, as he walked past the conga line of police cars stopped alongside the victim’s home.
The thrushes were one of the many bird species that New Orleans and Virginia had in common, so explained his spineless and bent field guide, crumpled in the glovebox.
Feral nigel protecting adam after a gang finds them and try to get to him via hurting adam~ or soulmates au where theyre born with the first thing they say to each other tattoed on their skin. im spacedogs trash ♥
((Oh god, you’re spacedogs trash, I’m spacedogs trash, we’re all spacedogs trash. I’ve accepted it. And whoops I might do both. P.S. the poem in this is Strawberry by Paul Baribeau.))
Nigel had never understood why he’d had these specific fucking words tattooed on his chest, and he’d never wanted to.