Ah I am so relieved that I got to finally finish this and share this with you all! I also want to apologize for anyone who has been waiting on me; thank you for your ‘patience’ (; haha. Thank you and I hope you all enjoy! - M x.
Harry was grumpy.
And he had every right to be, he thought. It started when he was woken up to the sound of your alarm and your body constantly shifting underneath him. He frowned because you didn’t accept his kiss as you rubbed at your tired eyes. “Morning gorgeous,” he mumbled, his eyes blinking so fast as they were desperate to awaken.
His arms pulled you closer to him as he rolls you over onto your back. The vibrations of his deep hums tickled your neck as his lips lazily traced your skin. You laugh at the pecks of kisses that press all along your jawline. “Oh, Button. Dreamed of you all night last night and I want ya’,” he whispers along your collarbone. Your hands find themselves tangled into his hair as you watch him lift his Stones shirt that you wore to bed. A giggle comes from you as he cups your breasts under the fabric, you shake your head as you see the smile that appears on his face. “Babe, we can’t, not right now,” you say, your fingers massaging his scalp as he continues to give you gentle touches with his mouth.
“Why not?” he whines as his mouth continues to give your body wet, hot kisses.
“Got lots to get done today, you know this.”
Harry shakes his head, “Just a few more minutes, Bug. Wanna love on you.” He pulls your body even closer to him. The smile that was planted against your neck disappeared as you start to wiggle your way from his grasp. “Not now, Harry. Maybe after, but we have lots to do today,” you whisper, planting a small kiss on his forehead before you completely wiggle out of his hold.
He groans as he watches you make your way to the master bathroom, pouting to himself because he couldn’t convince you to stay longer. And by the way you walked so nonchalantly and closed the bathroom door shut, he knew that there was no sign of invitation for him to join you in a steamy shower.
For the True Mates day of @hannigram-a-b-o-library‘s SummertimeSlick event, an Omegaverse re-imagining of Hannibal’s very first episode, Aperitif (part of a series of standalone fics that can be found on AO3).
Will closed his eyes and hoped. This had never worked for him before but short of impaling himself on Jack’s coat rack, he had few other options.
In theory, Will knew all about the Omega imprinting impulse and had always thought it was a damn silly trait. The idea that from one scrap of physical contact, an Omega could identify their ideal mate seemed more like something out of a fairytale than a biology class, despite having heard the tales from Omegas who had experienced it.
One scrap of physical contact like, say, a handshake.
Like the one Will had just exchanged, at Jack’s behest, with Doctor Hannibal Lecter. The one which had caused his body to light up like a Christmas tree, or one of his dogs catching the scent of a rabbit. The one that had told him, in no uncertain terms, that the tall, poised, exquisitely turned-out man in front of him was, biologically speaking, a bullseye. A touchdown. Will Graham’s golden ticket.
Maybe Jack had a particularly sharp letter opener on his desk.
The advantage, of course, of the imprinting process, was that no one else was aware of it. The Omega could keep quiet and go about their business, leaving the Alpha in question none the wiser, at least until they could ascertain compatibility in other areas.
Unfortunately, during their brief conversation, Doctor Lecter had quickly proved himself interesting in more ways than just his pheromones. He had matched Will’s mind thought for thought, easily falling into good-humoured (on Lecter’s side, anyway) conversational sparring. In other circumstances, Will would have been pleasantly surprised to be engaged in such a way. In Jack’s office, with Jack’s scrutinising gaze upon them, Will could only be suspicious.
“Whose profile are you working on?” Without allowing the doctor space to answer, Will turned to Jack and iterated, “Whose profile is he working on?” They were going to get precisely thirty seconds to give what would undoubtedly be an unsatisfactory explanation, then Will was getting the hell out of there.
Hannibal slid smoothly into the proffered space, to answer, “I’m sorry, Will. Observing is what we do. I can’t shut mine off any more than you can shut yours off.”
Will reflected that there was little more annoying than someone who really understood you, except possibly someone who could intrigue you when intrigue was the last thing you wanted.
Tyler Scheid x Reader (GenderNeutral) - Sweet Summer
Summer is always hot, especially in L.A. It’s like Satan’s armpit there in the summer, and nearly all year round, as well. How can anyone be blamed for going swimming in such terrible weather conditions? What’s even worse are watching the people who enjoy the heat sit out in the sun or under the shade and blister, for who knows what reason. Maybe they’re sadistic.
Maybe that life guard was sadistic, the one with the curls and the stone-face look every time a kid screamed. And then there was you, possibly also less sadistic and crazy as you sat on the edge of the pool, your feet dipped into the cold and chlorine-saturated water. You watched some of the kids push each other into the pool, the lifeguard glare at them. He was… interested to look at. But he was at the other side of the pool, so you couldn’t make out much of his features.
“GERONIMO!” your best friend screamed as she ran to the edge, jumping and landing in the water with a massive cannonball-made splash. Splashing you, you laughed and wiped the water from your face, pushing your hair back.
“Hey!” you shouted. She surfaced and waded in the water, looking at you with a stupid grin.
“What?” she asked.
“Alex you had to warn me. I don’t really want to get too wet.” You glanced at the lifeguard who was busy with looking up at the clouds. Oh, a jawline…
“I did warn you. It’s called a warrior cry, and mine is Geronimo.” Alex seemed very sure of herself, laughing as she dipped down and underneath the surface to swim towards the shallow-end. It was her idea to come to the pool, dragging you away from your YouTube videos and Pringles. You looked nice, though, in your black swimwear. It was nicely fitting and dark, just like your soul. There, that is the sadistic side.
But Alex has that side, too, because she appeared suddenly while you were drooling subconsciously at the lifeguard and pulled you by your arms into the pool. You screamed loudly, stopped short by the cold and salty water. Your body hit the water and you were gone under, the last thing you saw before the water stung your eyes was the lifeguard jolting in his seat.
Fighting with Alex, your arms battled the waves and you struggled to stay afloat, not that well of a swimmer by any means. Your face reached the surface and your gasped for air, kicking your legs furiously. You could hear Alex cackling beside you as you doggy-paddled to stay breathing. Every other second your head dipped underwater and you were fighting to yell at Alex, making everything a struggle in the end.
And then you heard it.
Alex stopped laughing as the splash of a very large and muscular man hit the water. You turned and saw the man right next to you, right as you dipped back under. He grabbed you by the waist, wrapping his arm eventually under your arms before lighting you out of the water and onto the concrete in a matter of seconds. You coughed and blinked, looking up and seeing the beautiful silhouette of the most handsome man you’d ever seen above you.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice lovely.
“Are you okay?” he asked again. You nodded, his hand grabbing yours as he helped you to sit up. You coughed again and wiped your eyes, Alex losing her mind with laughter.
“You looked like you were drowning, so I saved you.”
You looked at him and blushed. “No, I just swim really weird,” you replied, laughter in your voice. He looked you over, slightly blushing himself, and then let out a sigh. He looked at Alex and smiled, then to you. He sat back on his bottom, possibly feeling like an idiot. He laughed, running his hand through his curls. You just stared, looking at the water drip down his muscular body. The way the sun glistened over his pecs and arms made your jaw drop a little. He looked back at you with the most amazing smile and you found yourself speechless, just in awe.
“Hey hot-stuff!” Alex yelled at you, making you snap back to reality. You shut your jaw and looked at her, glaring. “He’s drooling over you, too,” she said quietly, hoping he wouldn’t hear. You looked back and saw he was. He was staring at the all of you. Your face, chest, legs, everything.
“Tyler!” someone from afar yelled. “Get back to your post.” Tyler stood, helping you up.
“Gotta… go.. Um, I get off at 5. Mabe come back and we can get some ice cream?”
“Yeah, yeah I’d love that.”
He winked and walked away, leaving you standing there. His hands were so soft, you thought. And that was apparently aloud, because he turned around and smiled.
“Thanks!” he called. “Yours are, too!”
You covered your face and screamed, Alex laughing once more.
religious reference (and probably incorrect, sorry, I’m not religious), smut
(fingering, vaginal sex, Daddy kink).
Word Count: 1,858
This fic is based on the song “Black Wedding” by In This Moment. The bold and italicized lines are lyrics. This is my first time writing smut, so I’m sorry in advance.
Priest are you there? Can you hear my voice? Do you hear my prayers?
Are you out there?
You opened the door to the confession room and slipped into
the dimly lit space. The small room was lit only by a small, red bulb in the
upper corner, giving the entire cubicle an eerie glow. Of course, they couldn’t
let the sinners be too comfortable.
The screen slid to the side, signaling the arrival of the
on-duty priest. Bless his holy roller soul for being there at two in the
morning. He sat there for a moment, his silhouette swaying lightly from side to
“Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been two weeks
since my last confession.” You bowed your head, holding your hands in our lap
as you awaited the priest’s response.
“And what are your sins, my dear?” His voice instantly shook
you. He sounded younger than you were expecting, no older than his
mid-thirties. His tone was deep, but tender, making your skin prickle.