Soul mates finding each other on a planet of 7 billion people is getting less likely by the decade, even for those who registered their marks with The Agency. Nigel doesn’t even think about his potential other half, never really has. He has bigger concerns than romance. Nigel is an undercover cop and he’s just started a relationship with an unknowing Gabi as part of his cover. Deep cover is dangerous so the last thing he needs at this point is to run into his predestined soul mate – the blunt and totally gorgeous Adam Raki.
Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love. ~ William Shakespeare
Even Nigel thought Gabi looked vibrant as the sunlight caught her hair. They walked down the bland street, about to part ways on the corner as she headed to work and there was little doubt she brightened her surroundings. She leaned in and kissed him, a gentle peck before she smiled her goodbyes to them both with a smile
“A fine woman there.” Darko commented, his grin a little too salacious for Nigel’s liking. It was bad enough he was pulling the poor girl into all this but he’d had little choice. It had just sort of happened and then his handler had pushed it. It would help his cover, and Nigel knew that too – enough to allow himself to be pushed when maybe he shouldn’t have.
Truthfully, she was beautiful. Talented. Not his damn type, but he had to push through that as much as anything. It wasn’t like he could be himself. He felt like a prick, and the last thing he wanted was for her to get mixed up with Darko.
From that fucking tattoo, to the lifestyle, he had to admit it got easier every day. He knew that he was getting ever closer to an edge of danger that might suck him in. Once the life started to absorb you sometimes there was no coming back. But it was the risk of deep cover.
Nigel took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke at Darko. “Fuck off asshole.” He jested with a grin as they watched Gabi walk away. “She is all for me.”
He and Gabi weren’t so serious yet, not so intimate – she just thought he was being a gentleman. He’d have to get over that shit. At least it was better than some of the guys who were already married when they went deep cover and ended up having to cheat. At least he wasn’t having to be that kind of shitheel.
He just needed to focus on the job. Continue to earn Darko’s trust, break the ring, get the info and get the fuck out. He’d make sure Gabi was ok in it all, even if he had to fucking use her along the way. Poor fucking kid.
He flicked the end of the cigarette onto the street and followed Darko into the convenience store.
He hadn’t expected the sudden chill on such a warm day. It spread through him and tingled over his skin. The tingle focused into a burn that heated the flesh just a little above his right wrist, where his soulmark was located. A shudder went through him, separate from the chill.
A sudden movement caught his attention as the guy being served at the counter fumbled and dropped his wallet. He looked agitated, gripping his arm as he leaned down to collect his wallet. He looked panicked, near terrified. And fucking gorgeous.
Dark curls, smooth porcelain skin. Nicely built somewhere between twink and otter – Nigel couldn’t help but think he’d like to get a better look and a full assessment. Just the type Nigel liked, though he prefered them not so jittery.
Damn! He needed to get laid. Had it been so long that he was starting to imagine this shit? He rubbed the burn on his skin. Was he so desperate that he would take a slight discomfort to be something more? It was likely a rash, an irritation from how the cuff on this shirt sat.
His flesh cooled with the exception of the soulmark, still burning.
Soul mates finding each other on a planet of 7 billion people was getting less likely by the decade, even for people who registered their marks with The Agency. There a bigger concerns than shit like that anyways, he had a job to do, a career he loved. He wasn’t going to fuck it up wasting daydreams on teenage shit like that.
And yet, the man picked up his wallet and stood, looking around nervously until he saw Darko and then Nigel. And their eyes locked.
Explicit // M/M // Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter // Tagged: Season 4, angst, separation, witness protection, murder, canon-typical violence, homophobia, revenge, eventual smut and happy ending.
After their fall from the bluff Hannibal is presumed dead and Will is severely injured. When Hannibal Lecter appears to have resurfaced in South America, Will – considered another Lecter victim – is put into Witness Protection by Agent Starling for his own safety.
It will be almost 6 years before Hannibal finds him. In that time both have been on a journey of discovery about themselves and what they are willing to do to get back to the other.
John Grey stretched and yawned, squelching his toes in the dew-damp grass beneath his bare feet before he retrieved the now soggy paper from the lawn. That damn kid could never get it on the porch.
He opened the fragile, wet pages gingerly as he started back to the house, not looking up until he heard a throat being cleared and was greeted with a mug of coffee being thrust at him. He smiled his thanks as he took the mug. The manipulation of his facial muscles caused a slight tightening over his cheek – a reminder of the scar there, mostly hidden in his beard.
“Thanks darlin’” A Southern drawl that seemed to have resurfaced after the first six months in California, drawn out by the desire to keep something of himself, something from before. Long before.
“Don’t thank me! You’re the one cooking breakfast, and we’re out of eggs… so… drink up!” A bright tone, bright smile.
Craig was undeniably a morning person, and generally a happy guy. In that respect, he should balance John out. Be a counterbalance to the moody, grumpy person that John often was. He should stop John from spending too much time in his own head, which was no good for anyone.
John Grey was pretty sure he could be happy, settled, content, with Craig Harris.
Will Graham wasn’t so sure.
5 Years 7 Months Earlier
“It’s beautiful…”
He meant it. He had never meant anything so desperately in his life. Never wanted anything so desperately. The blood, the thrill of the kill, hunting like a pack with Hannibal.
Hannibal.
He had known for a long time, a very long time, that Hannibal was in love with him. He hadn’t realised until he had asked Bedelia in his almost consuming desire to confirm what was already clear, that he was in love with Hannibal too.
Will Graham hadn’t really had much experience with love. His childhood had given him a rocky start and his empathy disorder had put paid to anything remotely meaningful until he had met Hannibal Lecter. Not that he had realised it at the time.
No, he hadn’t realised what that was – he had thought it was a close friendship, something he’d also had little experience of, until he met Molly. The way it was with her reminded him of his friendship with Hannibal. It was the way things went with Molly – the friendship they built, the relationship on top of that, that he seemed to let build up around him that had made him finally realise. He had been – he was – in love with Hannibal Lecter.
His inability to know how to deal with that love, both his own and Hannibal’s… The inability to understand himself better, accept himself sooner, and find a happiness that reflected Hannibal’s – had lead them to the top of the bluff. Had lead him to make a split second decision in his head. No rationale, no premeditation. Nothing beyond: Live together or die together. And in that moment, fresh from the kill, overwhelmed by his lust for blood and Hannibal alike, living felt too overwhelming. Too complicated and bloody and full of more of the pain he had experienced all his life, but especially since meeting the man he had come to love.
I literally made this blog so I
could post this fic for @slashyrogue because I was inspired by this fic to write this and slashy wanted to read it. If people like
it, maybe I’ll clean up the other fics I’ve written for myself and post them
here.
Fandom: HannibalNBC
Pairing: Hannibal/Will
Verse: Creepypasta AU, arranged marriage AU, fantasy AU
Plot: A new era has begun. Ancient forest spirits have new names and must adapt
to survive. Or Smile Dog!Will marries Slender Man!Hannibal in an alliance
between forest spirits to fight off modern-world human threats like paranormal
blogger Freddy Lounds and masked would-be arsonist Francis Dollarhyde. Inspired
by Slashyrogue’s fic Bound by Blood but with creepypastas instead of vampires.
Will’s heel is
braced in Hannibal’s lap, set against the warm of expanse of a
check thigh. He watches, rapt as Hannibal plies his foot with expert
fingers, devout in his task and in the way he kneels before him.
“Our feet are very
intimate. They carry us through our lives,” Hannibal says, never faltering.
“Never really
equated feet with intimacy.”
“Oh?” Hannibal
glances up. “You were initially embarrassed by the
suggestion.”
“That’s not because–I don’t exactly get a
lot of foot massages.”
“I don’t give a
lot of them.”
“Oh…”
“I think you’ll
find,” Hannibal says, slowly lifting Will’s foot from his lap,
“this particular instance is uniquely intimate.”
Will has plenty of
time to jerk away, to intercept, but he doesn’t. He grips the arms
of the chair and holds his breath as Hannibal, without ceremony,
cranes his head and presses obscenely red lips to the tender
pink arch of his foot.
And bites down.
***
I don’t know. I don’t even have a foot fetish, but I have a Hannibal-worships-Will’s-feet-and-also-everything fetish. I made it to go with (eventual) fic because I’ve been thinking about this forever. Also, fangs. @loshka ‘s lovely art is partly to blametoo.
I love this so much, it inspired me! Hope you like it @toni-of-the-trees 💖💖💖
The omega broke and ran from the treeline and the alpha was on his trail instantly. Even if he lost sight in the long grass it would be easy – the scent of blood was so strong. He had been sure someone else was hunting in these woods, someone leaving beautiful mutilations of the local villagers. The alpha almost didn’t mind that the activities would likely mean he would soon need to move on. Because that scent!
It was the divine ambrosia of a perfect omega, the perfect one for him – and he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into a mating bite. It made his heart race, it made him wild and sent him out of control. He raced after the fleeting image, the strong scent, the tang of blood – knowing that only capturing and mating the omega would calm him.
True mates. His whole body shuddered around his thundering heart. Yes, that was what this was. Another like him, another drawn to the beauty of death in a way shunned even by their own kind. He would love this omega with body and soul. Something he had never considered, nor cared to consider before.
The scent was still strong when he neared the end of the meadow, but he had lost sight of the omega. His mouth watered and he let out a pitiful moan before breathing deep the air and picking up the direction of the blood.
Behind him.
He turned and suddenly the omega was on him. With uncommon strength and the element of surprise, the omega pushed him to the ground and straddled him, pinning him down with ease.
Yes, this omega was perfect.
His strength, his skill, his pointed teeth and sharp cheekbones… the very blood that painted his bare chest from his last kill. The alpha was gladly pinned, pressed down as much by the heat of every point of contact than the weight alone. The rut he had been driven to had found its reliever, the monster within him had found its match.
“Alpha…” The omega breathed.
“Will.” The alpha offered.
“Hannibal.” The omega replied, teeth glinting.
“Mine.” Will murmured, no attempt to hide from his tone or expression the complete adoration he already felt.
Hannibal grinned his agreement and took the alpha’s mouth.
On monday Hannibal was completely recovered, only a couple of yellowish marks were the memory of the bruises from the fight He followed the same routine he always had, arriving early, this time driving his own car. He wore one of Will’s favorite outfits – a loose shirt and a thick knitted purple sweater under his black montgomery – and waited for Will in the hall.
The news about the fight was now everywhere, from middle school to high school everyone knew about the “bloodshed” of the last monday. A beta and an omega fighting a uncontrollable alpha with the force of two beasts! The information was not completely right but it drew a smile in the now alpha hearing the murmurs of his classmates passing by.
He scented Will before he could see him amongst the ocean of students walking to their classrooms. They couldn’t help but fix their eyes on each other. Hannibal smiled softly, the soft curve in the corners of his mouth that Will knew perfectly, the omega hid his own smile in the soft scarf he was wearing.
“Good morning.”
“How do you manage to look so good in the morning?”
“Having a routine keeps me…”
He stopped talking, almost dry scenting the pungent smell of another omega.
Will runs Mason Verger’s limo off the road, knocks out his driver, and strangles Mason with his bare hands. It’s not as hard as he thought it would be. Mason seems too shocked to fight much. He stares up at Will with goggling eyes as his face goes red. He tries to talk, because Mason always does, but he can’t get anything out but a wheeze.
When he’s dead, Will puts the body in the trunk of his car and drives to Hannibal’s house. The spare key is where he remembers it. He lets himself in and drapes Mason on the dining room table to await Hannibal’s return from work.
It was the beer that did it. He’d ordered it mostly to see what Hannibal would do, having only ever seen the man consume
eye-wateringly expensive wine or, on occasion, spirits (and then only the most
pretentiously rarefied kind). So there was no way he could have been prepared
for the fine line of foam that lingered on Hannibal’s upper lip as he lowered
his glass, apparently satisfied despite Will’s choice of drink costing less
than a car. Certainly there was nothing he could have done to brace himself for
the way, after a long moment of staring at Hannibal’s mouth – had it always
curved like that? Had it always looked so red and plump and delicious, like
vine fruit on the edge of bursting into overripeness? – Hannibal sucked away
the foam, his bottom lip engulfing the upper with a soft, wet smack. It was
lewd, and inelegant, and entirely filthy, and when his lip emerged again it
glistened, pouting as if begging for attention.
“Do it again.“
The words spilled from his mouth, unbidden
and unplanned, in a husky tone that Will almost didn’t recognise as his own
voice. They caused Hannibal to still for the barest fraction of a second,
before he composed himself and raised an elegant eyebrow.
“Do what, Will?"
He accompanied the words and the quirked
eyebrow with the faintest curl of a smirk, and Will was crowding him against
the bar before he knew what he was doing. Uncaring of any looks he might be
drawing from the other patrons, he pressed himself the length of Hannibal’s
warm, strong body, and reached behind him to retrieve his abandoned glass.
"You’re thirsty. Drink."
Hannibal’s pupils blew wide as Will spoke,
all command, no request. He raised his hand and slid it against Will’s, warm
and soft in contrast to the slippery cool of the glass he took from Will’s
grasp.
"As you wish."
Will watched, his own mouth turning dry, as
Hannibal tipped the glass up, taking a long, slow pull of his drink, his eyes
never leaving Will’s. If there were still other people in the room, Will wasn’t
aware of them. The sound of his heartbeat and the shape of Hannibal’s lips as
they opened for the glass made up the entirety of his world.
Finally, when Will thought he might simply
drain the whole glass just to spite him, Hannibal swallowed and lowered his drink.
Foam once again lined his upper lip and Will descended on it, sucking it
sweetly into his own mouth before moving to bite gently at Hannibal’s bottom
lip, pleased when he let out a soft, almost inaudible moan. Will took advantage
of his parted lips and pressed his tongue inside, desperate to be closer in any
way he could. He felt Hannibal go lax and pliable against him, and dragged his
fingers through silvering hair to clutch at the back of his head, keeping him
in place while they kissed on and on.
Finally, and against either man’s desires,
they broke apart for air. Will, panting a little and grinning helplessly, gazed
at Hannibal’s expression. He looked stunned and a little wary, watching Will
with half-lidded eyes. Will’s smile softened and he lifted a hand to touch
softly along the line of Hannibal’s lip.
"You’d let me do anything I want,
wouldn’t you? Everything I ask."
"Yes. That excites you."
"You excite me."
Will pushed his thumb inside Hannibal’s
mouth, and saw the fractional widening of Hannibal’s eyes.
"You could bite. But you won’t, unless I
ask you to. It would take a better man than me not to find that…
interesting."
Will smiled fondly as Hannibal let his teeth
rest against his thumb with just the barest hint of pressure. They grazed
teasingly against his skin as he pulled out and cocked an eyebrow, waiting for
Hannibal’s response.
"All these years, Will, and it took only
a sip of mediocre beer to finally catch your interest."
"You always had it, and you know it. You
just didn’t know what to do with it."
"Perhaps I required a firm hand to
direct me."
"I think that’s something we should
explore, doctor."
They shared a smirk, indulgent and full of
promise, before Hannibal lifted the glass he was still clutching for a third
time and drained it dry as Will watched his Adam’s apple bob and considered
sucking a bruise into it. When he was done, he set the glass on the bar and
looked back at Will, head tilted in insouciant challenge, lip deliberately left
unclean.
Okay so this is the crackiest thing ever, and my first collaboration with @devereauxsdisease ! I don’t even know what to tell y’all except that DD and I are DYING OVER HERE because of how ridiculous this is. SORRY NOT SORRY!! I’m reposting my totally dorky fanart in here ‘cause we finished this fic way sooner than I thought so whatever, why not? XD There is more under the cut below the drawing!
Bedelia had been right, Will was definitely Bluebeard’s wife, and as such, he should have been more cautious around locks. Yet, the small box he found in Hannibal’s desk bothered him. Why did Hannibal Lecter have a lock box? After nearly a year of blood, death and beauty, what could Hannibal possibly have to hide from him? He put the box back under the papers in Hannibal’s bottom drawer, he would not be Pandora in this little drama, he’d been the star of enough tragedies in his life.
Will’s resolve lasted a day.
When Hannibal was safely ensconced in his garden, fussing at the dogs and examining his tomatoes, Will made his move. With a screwdriver and some liquid courage, Will approached the box.
“Please don’t be naked pictures of Bedelia, please don’t be naked pictures of Bedelia,” Will begged whatever higher power was listening as he forced the lock.
“Will? Where are y- PUT THAT DOWN!” Hannibal was in the doorway, eyes wide. If Will didn’t know any better, he’d describe Hannibal’s face as panicked. The doctor seemed frozen in place. Will took his chance and looked down.
Mostly reblogs and random words 