I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE WILL'S NIPPLES and also the way you write Will's everything tbh. I feel like no one understands what a terrible tease Will is quite like you. ALSO The Game is my most favorite thing you've ever written YOU ARE FAB NEVER FORGET IT <3
THANK YOU!!! Please accept some gratuitous s1 nipple fun.
In two hours Will will be giving a lecture in front of fifty aspiring FBI agents. It was nearly nine in the morning and Will was sitting on one of his dining room chairs with his feet in a bucket of hot water, trying to make himself appear relaxed, knowing he would not be able to. Hannibal was too good at reading people and, somehow, especially Will, for Will to feign anything.
He had walked in his sleep last night. Woken by Buster nipping at his toes. He had wandered into the middle of his fields, his house a distant dot in the horizon. He had had to pull seven prickly thorns out of his legs and feet.
He had called Hannibal and Hannibal had driven here despite Will’s half-hearted protests. He didn’t want to be alone, but he didn’t want to be seen like this by Hannibal.
Hannibal, with his hair loose, had given him one look and knew everything and still he kissed Will. Delicately and lingering until Will trembled and was grasping at Hannibal’s jacket.
“You need to relax. To calm down.” Hannibal had said. Will had simply nodded. Anything would be good, he did not care.
Hannibal filled one of Will’s buckets with hot water from the shower. He eased Will’s feet inside and smiled when Will moaned, the ache of his heels and between his toes easing out of him.
Form the kitchen, Hannibal had brought out Will’s half used bottle of olive oil. He held it up, like an offering that Will did not quite understand.
“Will you let me touch you, Will?” Hannibal said, as if Will would say no. Refuse him now, after everything.
“Yeah.” Will said. Please.
Hannibal stood in front of Will and poured oil onto Will’s chest. It soaked into Will’s shirt completely, causing the light blue cotton to turn transparent. He began to pant. Unable to move his feet, to spread his legs wider, he could only shift in his seat.
“I feel like a pig about to be roasted whole.”
“An apt analogy, though I don’t plan on eating you as thoroughly as that.” Hannibal said. He rolled his sleeves up. His suit jacket folded neatly over a chair on the opposite side of the table. He had a professional air about him, clinical almost, if not for the slight tremble of his hands.
He pulled a chair up behind Will and sat, embracing Will from behind.
“It’s all right.” Hannibal said into Will’s ear. He kissed Will’s neck and his hands–big and blunt and precise–gripped his thighs and in one long, smooth, horribly wonderful motion, dragged up Will, over his hips, fingers glancing just shy of his thin tented boxers, over his belly that heaved with every breath, and stopping on his chest to squeeze.
The oil smoothed every motion of Hannibal’s hands. His pinches were like liquid, flowing from one harsh pinch of his nipple to soothing them easily with the cup of his palm. He kneaded Will’s chest, lighting every nerve inside of Will, knowing exactly how to work him up and up until Will was clutching at the back of Hannibal’s hands, saying without words harder harder harder.
Will tensed, his body clenching and convulsing as he came, his feet kicking out and knocking the bucket over, water splashing all over the floor.
Will held Hannibal to him, listened to how heavy Hannibal was breathing and without needing to look over his shoulder knew Hannibal was flushed and spent.
“I think I’m going to fall asleep right here.” Will said. It was true. He could fall asleep like this and worry about cleaning before he had to leave. A ten minute nap sounded amazing.
“Let me clean you up.” Hannibal moved his hands and Will’s entire body twitched. He gasped, nearly squeaked. Hannibal paused and then squeezed him again this time, rolling his nipples between his fingers, his shirt adding coarse, wet friction.
“Maybe in a minute.” Will said shakily. “Can we do that again?”
I don't want to say goodbye. I don't want to lose Captain Swan!
I know. It’s really, really hard.
My advice is to let yourself grieve. For those of us in fandom, something that has been a huge part of our lives is coming to an end. Its more than just a show, it’s a community and a hobby, and a big part of many of our lives. It’s good to recognize that and it’s okay to feel that in your gut. It hurts to know something that is such an integral part of our every day is going to be very different from here on out.
However, the beautiful thing is that most of it is not going way for some time. The fandom will continue, the community will continue, and the characters will live on (whether on screen occasionally) or in fanwork. There is so much fic out there I haven’t read, and so much more that will still be created. Art and gif sets and meta and discussions, fans will still be creating long after the show is over.
So after you grieve then celebrate, because over five seasons we have witnessed one of the greatest fictional love stories ever told. We got to be a part of the epic journey of how the lost princess Emma Swan was found and fell in love with the fearsome pirate king Killian “Captain Hook” Jones and I don’t know about you, but it has brought me so much joy, and so many happy and entertaining hours that I can’t be anything but blissful and content when I think of how it all came together in a perfect episode that showcased their perfect love and their perfect wedding.
It’s okay to be sad, but also don’t forget to be happy. Captain Swan is a gift and it’s not done giving.
Guh, this scene! It feels like a perfect cocktail of my favourite kinks: Sleeping Dean! Sam’s amazing bedhair! Sam hitting Dean awake like a little kid! Purgatory survivor Dean simply curling himself further into his pillow because he knows it’s Sam and Sam means safety! Single layers! Grumpy princess Dean! Bossy Sam! Sam’s huffy chest! Dean’s cute socked feet! Full bodyshots! …
Thank you Person of Interest for 5 amazing seasons, 103 episodes, and one amazing story-line about second chances, finding love, and a family not by blood but by bond… last but not least the greatest AI story in history of television.
I love season one
because Kara had clear story arcs and every episode contributed in
some way to her character development and I felt other characters
were also developed well, eg. how Cat Grant seemed harsh at
the beginning of the season but mentored Kara/Supergirl and
became a beacon of hope and empathy at the end of the season. The
sister relationship between Kara and Alex in season one got time to
develop and if there were conflicts they usually got time to decompress at
some point. The family dynamic between Alex, Kara and J’onn (who had also lost everything before coming to Earth like Kara) was very
important same as the support Kara got from her friends such as James
who was also her romantic interest and proved you could be a hero
just by wielding a camera and your words.
Kara tries to connect with people with words before fists. Actually the season finale wasn’t just about fighting, defeating the main enemy of the season one includes Kara giving an uplifting speech about hope. In season one, the show was about dealing with loss and anger but it was also about compassion, friendship, family and hope and what it meant to be a hero.