#that held up until BALTIMORE

[ionlydrinkhotwater]

OK but I really love how unhinged Neil comes off in other people's POV cause looking back at the first three novels he was so damn weird

Take what happened in Colombia

Imagine what Andrew was thinking

Holy crap this binder WTF?!?! OK he's sus as hell I've gotta test him, I'm gonna mess with the tags when I refold his clothes but like...I doubt even he's THAT crazy

*Neil barges in and starts shouting in FRENCH*

OK so he IS that crazy (and French?!)

OK I'm gonna spike his drink and get some answers in a minute just gonna leave him with Aaron and Nicky for a sec while I satisfy my Gay panic this runaway has inspired in me with Roland and then I'll just...WTF DID HE JUST PAY A GUY TO KNOCK HIM OUT?!

OK I'm gonna pick up some breakfast and when I get back to the house I can interrogate the....OK ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME THIS DUBIOUS TWINK CRAWLED OUT OF THE BATHROOM WINDOW?!

OK so he's not around let's get back to Palmetto he probably got a ride from one of the upperclassmen

OK he didn't...did he run away? I guess that makes some sens... OK wait he HITCHHIKED?! THE FUCK?!

OK THIS ASSHOLE SPEAKS GERMAN TOO?!

OK he's on the run from the mob...there are a lot of holes in this story but at this point I'm gonna take his word for it that he's isn't a danger to my people cause I don't have the energy to continue to pursue this anymore. This fucking guy is more unhinged than what I was prepared to deal with this weekend.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Black, Purple, and Blue

AN: fluffy goodness 😘💕

Synopsis: The amount of times your husband gets hit during the Ravens game quickly has you concerned, but he tries to reassure you that there is nothing to worry about

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a beautiful anon 😍

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Hit after hit after hit

You watched your husband get pummeled to the ground multiple times against the Ravens from the comfort of your bed at your home in Cincinnati and it seemed as if there was no end in sight. Multiple people had asked if you wanted to watch the game with them, but you quickly decided against it. You would rather be at home by yourself and not be at some random bar hearing people drunk off their asses talking about your husband if he were to lose.

A fight almost ensued between you and another fan during Joe’s second season with the Bengals and from that point on, you knew it wasn’t even worth your time. You knew Joe was an amazing quarterback and his stats proved it despite what people may say about him.

The game was not moving in the direction that you originally thought, but despite this you still held onto hope since the score was so close.

Joe had confessed to you earlier in the week how anxious and nervous he was for this game and it was to be expected. They were playing in Baltimore on their turf, but seeing how the Ravens caused them an upset at home, it would only be right if the Bengals did the same thing.

Joe was always focused during the season, but it went to a different level when he was playing any team within the same division as the Bengals were.

When the Ravens had gotten the ball back, the camera suddenly cut to the Bengals sideline and you could see Joe wincing in pain as he was holding the left side of his body, Silently cursing to yourself before letting out a sigh, the wheels in your head began to turn and immediately thought the worst.

This time last year as he was playing the Ravens, he sustained his wrist injury that put him out for the rest of the season and the last thing you wanted was for him to go through that all over again. You saw the way it bothered him deep down, even though he thought he was being good at putting up a front for you.

Being married for a total of four years, you could see right through his bullshit and could immediately tell when something was off with him.

You took a sip of your strawberry flavored Truly as you saw Joe throw to Ja’Marr and end up with a touchdown and quickly placed it back down on the table in order to celebrate.

But now, it was time for your nerves to be turned up to another level because you saw them wanting to go for a two point conversion.

“You cannot be fucking serious right now.” You quietly said out loud, even though there was no one in the room but you.

During the play, someone on the Ravens defense had pulled Joe’s face mask and you were yelling at the television seeing as how they never even called it.

Suddenly, your phone rang next to you and you debated on whether you should answer it until you saw that it was your cousin Yalisa. Clicking accept, the first thing you heard was her yelling.

“Y/N! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS GOING ON IN THIS GAME?! DO YOU SEE HOW MANY CALLS THEY MISSED?! And not them beating your husband like he stole something.”

“I’m so over this, I don’t even know anymore. It seems like they are personally working against them. Did you see him grab Joe’s face mask?”

“Yes! And that’s why I called you! Are the refs blind?!”

“Um, the only names I’ve heard all night are Joe and Ja’marr. It doesn’t seem like anyone else showed up to play today.”

“See? That’s why Joe is as ripped as he is now because he’s carrying this team on his fucking back!”

“And he keeps wincing, so I’m concerned because he has yet to seek medical attention. He just keeps going back in and I can tell that something is wrong with him.” You quietly said and tried to take a deep breath to help ground you from the uneasy feeling that was creeping in.

“I guess he sees it as he has to go back in because who the fuck else is going to? They are seriously pissing me off. Is this the week that Zac gets fired?” She asked and you immediately stifled a laugh.

“As much as I would like that to become a reality, a lot more things need to change beside that one.”

It was one in the morning when your phone rang alerting you that you had a facetime call from your husband and you immediately answered.

The two of you stared at each other as you noticed Joe was laying down. In order to get more comfortable, he adjusted himself and you once again saw him wince. But before you could say anything about it, you heard his voice.

“I didn’t wake you up did I?” He asked and you simply shook your head no.

“No, and you know I always wait for you to call me before I go to sleep. I have to hear your voice one way or another.”

“And hearing your voice has to be my favorite thing in the world. I just can’t wait until tomorrow when I actually get to hold you.”

“I can’t wait for that either and I am going to fix all your favorite comfort foods and we’ll eat ourselves into a food coma to get through this.” You replied as you brought the comforter higher up your body since you were getting cold.

“While watching rom coms of course.”

“A man that knows a way to my heart.” You told him and he gave you a small smile.

It was quiet for a few seconds and then you spoke up again.

“Baby?”

“Yes?”

“I saw you wincing during the game. I don’t like when you wince.”

“I’m okay, really. It’s not a big deal.”

“Joey, don’t give me that. You got hit multiple times. If something happened then…”

“I promise that I’m okay, just a little sore. I already took the motrin that you slipped in my bag for me earlier.”

“Well someone has to do it seeing as you always forget.”

“True, and I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Stop! Stop being so cute when you’re so far away and I can’t kiss you until you get back, it’s not fair.” You whined and Joe let out a small laugh.

“You can have all the kisses you want once you see me. Promise.”

“Joey? How are you and do not under any circumstances bullshit me right now because I will be on the first flight to Baltimore if you do.”

The deep sigh he let out before giving you a verbal answer was telling.

“Frustrated.”

“Go on.”

“It seems like there is a disconnect somewhere and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Cough your coach Zac Taylor cough.”

“Well, that and there is something else. Just haven’t quite figured it out yet.”

“Can I be honest? You are amazing in your own right and even though I know that you already know this, Joey the last thing I ever want to happen is for you to in lack of better words waste your career for an organization that doesn’t quite seem like they value or care about you. Like, my husband is the shit and I’m not being biased. You are one of the best, if not the best, okay now I’m being biased. But, you’re amazing and I just want so much better for you. Do you know how much it hurts to see you so upset every week that you lose knowing that you show up every time for your team and give 100% while others don’t?”

—

Hearing the front door open from you and Joe’s shared office as you were working on your laptop, you immediately hopped up and ran to the foyer to greet him.

As soon as he spotted you, his bag was thrown to the side as he opened up his arms to embrace you as he placed several kisses on your lips.

When you did bring him in for a hug, once again you saw him wince.

“Joseph….”

“No, stop. I’m fine.”

“Hmm, pull up your shirt.”

“Damn, you want me to fuck you already? I was thinking…” Joe started to say, but you cut him off.

“No! Well yes, but not yet! Lift it.”

“But…”

“NOW.”

Once he did, you saw a black, purple, and blue bruise in the area where his ribs were on the left side and immediately gasped.

“BABY!”

“I’m fine, just a little bruised. I don’t want you to worry yourself.” He told you as he put his shirt back down and grabbed your hand as he kissed the back of it.

“A LITTLE bruise? It literally takes up a very good portion of your torso. And how can I not worry? My husband is a professional football player. Worrying is ingrained in my brain now. It got ingrained when I met you at LSU so stop.”

“Would it make you feel better that I got checked out before we got on our flight to come back home because it was bothering me when I woke up?”

“Yes. Kind of. But still!"

“And I’m fine. I promise like I said, and you're so cute when you worry about me."

"Not cute, I get flustered and pray nothing bad happens to you."

Crossing your arms, you nodded your head as Joe uncrossed them and leaned down to kiss you.

"Nothing is going to happen, and I'm going to need you to relax for me. Now that we got that out of the way, I’m also going to need my wife to lose her clothes.”

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Secretly Mine

Summary: Spencer and Reader have been seeing each other for a while without the team's knowledge

Category: Fluff

Couple: Spencer/BAU Fem!Reader

Content warnings: None

Word count: 1.5k

Eight months have passed since your arrival at the BAU. You’re an integral part of the team. Hotch has been sure to let you know. You’ve stood out with your eye for detail at certain crime scenes, outshining even some of the team’s more seasoned members. Luckily, the academy’s rumors about the Quantico team’s bond have rang true time and time again, so competition and jealousy never became an issue. It only made them respect you and even open up to you.

One person who has particularly opened up to you is the genius of the group, Spencer Reid. The secret you learned: he’s a gentle kisser. Almost childishly chaste, but nothing seemed more fitting for his personality. What was surprising was the setting of your first kiss.

New York City police invited the team to investigate the terrorist cell killing random people across the city. Their attacks grew more volatile by the time you all arrived, placing bombs on government vehicles. One of these bombs hurt Hotch, and SSA Joyner did not survive the same blast. The results could have been worse, considering.

Your team faced the problem of uncertainty regarding who (if anyone) had been injured at that moment. Spencer was with Rossi at the police station while the rest of you were on the ground. That damn terrorist organization interfered with signals and transmissions all the time, and this was no different. You, by your luck, were the most difficult to get in contact with, despite being safe at Federal Plaza. You met with the team when it was safe to do so and all targeted areas were cleared. Most of you sighed in relief. Garcia even held your face, as if to make sure you were real, alive and, breathing.

Spencer held your face too, but not in the same way. You both took refuge by the water cooler, surprisingly where no one was present in a once-crowded New York City police station. You talked about what happened, Hotch’s current condition, and how long to expect these nerves to last. Your nerves didn’t settle, though, when Spencer’s knuckles brushed your cheek as he said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

You didn’t blame these nerves, though, when you leaned into the touch, looking up at him with a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

Spencer was cute, obviously, but workplace relationships are highly unprofessional and even a liability, if the case they just survived wasn’t enough proof of that. You’d think (well, you knew actually) Spencer of all people would know this. He knows everything. When you had a case in Baltimore involving the Ravens, he told you their name came from Edgar Allan Poe’s most famous poem. Then he explained the detailed theories surrounding his untimely death. Spencer believes it has something to do with cooping, whatever that means, you dared not to ask. There’s nothing he doesn’t consider.

So, Spencer must have considered all the odds of professional behavior in that moment by the water cooler since his lips delicately brushed yours. It was barely a kiss at first, until he leaned in for another, to where you could feel the warmth of his mouth and felt that he could do with some lip exfoliant. The last part you didn’t care about because it was practically over before it began. Neither of you said anything about it. Instead, you stayed there for a while, not touching or talking. Then Morgan told the team to pack up and get ready to go home.

Throughout the past month, you and Spencer have shared many kissing sessions. Not at work, though, because you both still have some sense. Kissing Spencer, though, tends to not leave you with much sense. His gentleness is not a front. His touches are tender and he’s never pushed you beyond your limits. It’s a good thing then that he’s a gentleman, so he earned kisses through dinners, movies, and day trips. It was something to look forward to in between grueling cases.

And it wasn’t even off work when Spencer would bring joy to you. There was a case recently in North Carolina that shook you more than you cared to admit. You didn’t want to mention what specifically, as it’s something you haven’t spoken about in a long time, but the team picked up on it quickly. They checked on you and even asked if you needed to sit out. You powered through and came to a satisfactory (for lack of a better word) conclusion. Afterward, Spencer invited you to ice cream. It was a welcoming change of scenery, despite the ice cream place being called Jack the Dipper. It was hilariously fitting, so it really wasn’t an issue. Spencer didn’t ask about what happened or what made you feel so disturbed. Throughout the night, he just made sure to ask if you were okay.

You haven’t been okay for a while. Not because of that case, but because it’s been three months now and you are still running around with Spencer without the team’s knowledge. The team might feel cheated (and Hotch might be pissed) because they are not aware of this information, but the uneasiness of all this was starting to settle in. The fear, the worry that this might just be all for nothing. Outside of the office, he shows that he cares. He knows things about you that you haven't revealed in some time. And apparently he has done the same. Bruises from harsh kisses around your bodies linger under work clothes from a weekend in, and the team has been none the wiser. And you’re not sure if you’re as okay with it as you thought you were.

The team went out to the bar on a Thursday, celebrating a government holiday the night before (i.e. a three-day weekend). The team took shots, bet money, threw darts, and Emily ended up with the most by closing. You would’ve coughed up more cash throughout the night if you were confident in your bets.

Spencer barely looked at you. Didn’t brush your hand or even stand near you for too long, like you had the plague or whatever Poe died from. It didn’t help the feeling in your core, and neither did the walk home. Morgan drove Garcia home, Hotch with Rossi, and J.J. with Emily. And of course, Spencer with you. When J.J. drove away after boasting about avoiding a ticket on an expired meter, Spencer didn’t hesitate to reach for your hand. It was nice, and as the weather grew colder, it was a welcomed warmth. But how could it not feel at least a little sour?

His apartment wasn’t far from here, so you walked. Your hands were laced the entire time, but he didn’t breathe a word and you couldn’t tell if that should make you feel better or worse.

It wasn’t until you climbed the steps to his door that he asked, “Are you staying the night?”

You swallowed. Unlike Emily, Garcia, and Rossi, you were on the side of tipsy rather than in dire need of a toilet to bury your head into. “Sure.” You said. “If you want me to.”

“Yeah,” He said, fiddling with his key and lock. “Of course I want you to.”

He finally opens the door and turns on the living room light. You barely had time to put your purse down before his lips were on yours. They were still chapped like the first time, except you could forgive that because of the growing cold outside. His hands hold your waist, they creep to your back. You couldn’t help but lean in, away from the door he pressed you into. It was when Spencer moaned in your mouth that you broke away. Catching your breath, you try putting together a sentence. But breathing is difficult right now for both of you. Spencer’s eyes are lazy and his breath still lingers with a scent of the mint gum he spit out when he showed up to the bar.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and you think it’s the start to an actual apology. “I was trying to stay patient.” He kisses you again, softly. And you kiss him back still. He moans again. “I want you.”

You swallow again. Your throat is so dry. “Spencer, I—”

“I want to tell them.” He interrupts.

You blink, it quickens as you take in the words. “What?”

His hands cup your face. He brushes the messy bangs from your forehead. “I want to tell them. About this. About us. I just…” He trails off. That is not something you’re used to seeing. “I want more time with you.”

As Spencer’s words sank in, you felt a mix of apprehension and longing, wondering just what could go wrong. A lot, in fact. But you have to believe he’s being honest. Why wouldn’t he be?

And with a soft smile, you reached for his hand and met his gaze. “I want that too,” you said, feeling the weight of it finally being lifted off your chest. “I’ve wanted that for a while.”

“I know. And I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you about it earlier. I was being selfish.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“But I would. Because it’s true. But that changes now.” The look on his face, the fully sober look on his face. He’s all in. “I will tell them you’re my girlfriend.”

[hotel-casifornia]

i like to think there are true crime episodes in the world of supernatural that are just dedicated to dean winchester

because like okay

he gets arrested in jericho california one/two days after halloween in 2005 and escapes custody before they really charge him for anything then he disappears

then a few months later in december of 2005 he shows up in st louis where hes pinned for the murders of two women and then the attempted murder of another, BUT hes found dead in this same womans house and then theres nothing about him for months

THEN in 2006 he gets arrested in baltimore and is charged for trespassing, grave robbery, grave desecration, murder, impersonation, identity theft etc etc and also arrested at this time is his younger brother sam who isnt charged with anything (as a side note here his brother went to stanford and was studying law, he was on track to be a lawyer a year before this) then overnight while an officer is transferring dean to st louis he escapes and that same officer is found dead on the scene by his partner - around this time sam also escapes custody

and so then they disappear for a while and later he shows up again, in milwaukee where a bank heist is going down and hes supposedly held hostage, then after the original perpetrator of the heist is shot and killed dean takes over running the heist, at that point fbi is called in and they storm the building, they find three or so dead bodies and no dean or sam and find the two escaped by impersonating people in the fbi’s swat team and dumping them in a closet having taken their clothes to blend in and get out of the building

and so they disappear again for a while until a few months later they get arrested again and are actually convicted and sent to folsom prison. they spend definitely under a week in this prison and then escape and once more disappear

then in 2008 theyre arrested again in monument colorado and its planned that theyre to be transferred to a maximum security prison in nevada but before they can be transported they supposedly die when the helicopter thats supposed to transport them explodes, a day later though the sheriffs office where they were kept is destroyed and everyone in it dies

AND THEN. there is dead silence on them for YEARS. they become myth after this, some super weird criminals who go down in infamy in online forums and chatrooms and dean winchester is known as the guy who can never stay dead.

and then. dean and sam get arrested again. a decade later. yeah theyre alive still. who wouldve guessed. what are they arrested for this time? TRYING TO KILL THE PRESIDENT.

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hey,

Could you write an NBC Hannibal One-shot, where fem!reader was a surgeon like him, who worked along side him for a couple of weeks and later meets him after he nearly got crucified in Baltimore. After Hannibal get‘s released from the hospital, they start to get to know each other.Maybe in the end there is some fluff and smut (if you are comfortable)

Hannibal X Reader: Stitches and sweet kisses

Warnings: wounds, brief mentions of death, smut, fluff, penetration (p in v), mentions of oral, pet names, soft sex, rough sex, sub x dom (if you squint), praise kink, breeding kink, female reader, no use of y/n, female anatomy.

Word count: 2,7K

You were used to odd patients. It was a common occurrence in your line of work but you never expected this. He has been rushed in by an FBI officer and immediately taken to a room. He didn’t need any drastic surgery. His wounds were not extreme but he had lost a lot of blood and was having a hard time breathing. You should have handed him over to another doctor but the moment you laid eyes on him you’d recognized.

You only worked with him a week but you’d never forget him. You’d been one of the surgeons in the room when he lost his first patient. A little girl, no older than six. She had a tumor that needed to be removed but there had been complications during surgery. You couldn’t save her. Everyone took the loss hard but it seemed to have hit Hannibal the hardest. A day after the incident you saw him walk into the main office with his resignation. You never saw him again. 

Until today that is.

There were holes in his palms and a large purple bruise around his neck that told you that there had been a rope around it. Your curiosity peaked the more you worked on healing him. He looked awfully vulnerable like this. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity. Once you’d fixed him up as best you could and put on some medication for his pain you made your way to the FBI agent outside his door. You expected they wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to know but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

“What happened to him?”

“Someone tried to kill him. Jack Crawford was the one who found him. They say the guy had him positioned like Christ on the cross. I mean what kind of sick fuck does that?”

You turned back to look at Hannibal through the small glass of the door. He was out cold due to his medication but his face held a deep sadness in it.

“What kind of sick bastard indeed.”

The days passed quickly. Whenever you weren't working on healing people or helping around the hospital you found yourself hanging around Hannibal's room. You’d go in to check on his vitals but you’d soon find yourself pulling a chair next to him, your eyes traveling over his face as he slept. He was always unconscious when you were around but you couldn’t help but talk to him. As weird as it sounds it felt easy to be around him. He was the small break in the chaos of your life.

One day when you’d been taking his vitals his eyes fluttered open. You watched him look at you, his eyes traveling around the room before falling back on your face. You gave him a small smile, continuing your work. He watched you take his pressure and jot some things down on his clipboard.

“I bet you don’t remember me.”

“I never forget a face.”

“Some memory you must have.”

“It normally doesn't fail me. Though I do have a hard time with names. I can't seem to recall yours.”

You introduced yourself to him with a smile. 

“Ah yes, how could I forget.”

Hannibal continued to look at you as you moved around the room. A small frown made its way to his face as he began to remember when he’d last seen you. He would never forget that day no matter how hard he tried. His heart rate spiked a bit at the memory causing you to look at him in concerne.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine. Remembering is all.”

You seemed to understand what he meant immediately, your own face twisting to match the sadness he felt inside. He didn’t remember much about you but he knew you were a good doctor. He’d walked past you on the day after the surgery and had noticed the tears in your eyes. You’d felt the loss of the girl just as much as he had. But unlike him you’d continued your work.

“How do you do it?”

“Sorry?”

“How do you keep working after…”

He couldn’t even bear to say it.

“It wasn’t easy. I took a month off. Started going to therapy before finally feeling ready to come back.”

You tugged up a chair, taking a seat next to him. Hannibal turned to look at you, his eyes focused on your face. 

“I’ve lost a lot of people but I've saved a lot too. I guess that's just how it is, you know? Do what you can and try your best to keep going. Therapy helps a lot. I still go every week, it helps to talk to someone about your shit you know?”

Hannibal let out a small laugh causing you to look up at him with curiosity.

“Did I say something funny?”

“No it’s just that…well…i’m a psychiatrist.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I became one after I stopped being a surgeon.”

“How is it? I bet it must be hard.”

“It is. Some days are easier than others. But it’s like you said, I help people. That feels good.”

You move closer to his bed, your hand moving to grab his. Hannibal watches you tug his hand into yours. You look down at the bandages that cover his palm, slowly beginning to remove them. He observes the way you trace your finger over his stitches gently.

“You’re healing really well. I’ll probably be able to remove these in a couple days. How does your neck feel?”

The purple had faded but you could still see small marks where the rope had sunk into his skin.

“Is it still tender?”

You leaned over his body, your fingers moving across his throat. Hannibal lifted his head, giving you better access. From this angle he could see very little detail of your face. His breath seemed to give out for a moment, his mind entirely focused on your proximity to him. You turned your focus over to his face, your eyes meeting him. There was a deep gentleness in the way you gazed at him, it made him feel exposed. But not in a bad way. 

“You okay?”

“Yes. I apologize. I’m distracted.”

“It’s alright. I have to go but if you need anything just tell them to call me okay?”

“Alright. Thank you.”

A couple of days later Hannibal was finally released. You’d walked into his room expecting it to be empty but instead you found him standing near the window. You walked over to him, stopping beside him. He turned to look at you, observing as you watched the world outside for a moment before turning to face him.

“I must tell you that as much as I love your company we aren’t a hotel.”

Hannibal smiled at you, causing you to mirror his expression.

“I’m glad to leave this room. I couldn’t take the white walls anymore. Though I must admit I'm sad I will not be seeing you everyday.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. You enjoyed your time with Hannibal immensely but you’d always thought that when he was healed your daily chats would come to a bitter end. Never in your wildest imagination would you have thought that he’d want to continue your contact outside of the hospital. 

“Would you join me for dinner? It’s been awhile since i’ve had a proper meal and i would love your company.” 

“I’d be delighted to. What restaurant did you have in mind?”

“Actually I was thinking I could do the cooking. It’s one of my passions you see. I’ve missed it just as I've missed having some real food.”

“You’re full of surprises aren’t you Dr Lecter?”

“You can’t even begin to imagine.”

He had been right about that. After your dinner you and Hannibal continued to keep in touch. With time your relationship grew into a friendship and soon enough you found yourself falling for the doctor. He wasn’t anything like you’d imagined him to be. He had a seemingly unlimited amount of knowledge that he was always eager to share with you. He’d have you over for dinner whenever he could, always enjoying the company and your fascination for his cooking. He’d come to your apartment from time to time, it had become a place where he could have a break from the hard days. You were always more than welcoming to him. And then one day he found himself sitting on your couch one evening, nursing a bottle of wine as the two of you listened to music. 

You were sprawled out on the couch, your legs resting on Hannibals. The only sound that could be heard was  of the music that played from your radio and your voice humming along to the tune. Hannibal took in the sight of you. Your eyes were closed, lips moving to form the lyrics of the song. He couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to share a home with you. His feeling for you should have startled him, after all he’d only known you for a little while. But there was this sort of connection he seemed to share with you. He often wondered why of all the possible doctors that could have attended him that day at the hospital you had been the one to heal him. Perhaps it was a way of some greater force telling him you were the missing piece he’d been searching for. 

Your eyes opened slowly at the feeling of Hannibal's hand on your thigh. You gave him a lazy smile, shifting your body up.

“What is it?”

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You.”

Your eyes widened, heart hammering inside your chest at Hannibal's blatant confession. Perhaps it was the wine you’d been drinking or maybe it was the adoring way Hannibal was gazing at you but in a flash you crawled over to him placing a soft kiss to his lips. It was a slow kiss, tender and full of emotion. Hannibal cupped your cheek keeping your lips attached to his until he felt like he couldn't’ breath. You break the kiss, panting for air. A giggle escapes your lips as you look at Hannibal watching the corners of his eyes wrinkle as he smiles.

“You’re so beautiful. Did you know?”

You flushed at Hannibal's words, head moving to look down at your legs. Hannibal placed his finger under your chin forcing you to look into his eyes. You gaze up at him through your eyelashes, a blush littering your cheeks.

“No need to be shy, pretty girl. It’s just me.”

You didn’t know what had come over him but this Hannibal wasn’t one you were used to seeing. He seemed much less put together than usual. There was almost a homey quality to him. You lifted your body off the couch. Hannibal watched you stand his eyes gazing up at you curiously. You placed your hand out to him. He looked at your open palm for a moment before giving you his hand. You tugged him off the couch pulling him towards the hall.

“Where are you taking me dove?”

You turned to look at him with a sly grin, legs never stopping their movements.

“To my bedroom. Obviously.”

Hannibal was used to seeing you in a specific sort of light. Whenever you two would go out together you were always soft spoken and quiet, often opting to listen to him talk rather than initiating conversation. In the bedroom however you turned into a whole different person. 

Your pussy fluttered around his dick as he moved into you. Your head fell back on the pillow with a moan.

“Fuck you feel so good Hannibal.”

He moved slowly, trying his hardest to be as gentle as possible. He knew your body was starting to become sensitive after all the hours he’d put into teasing you. He’d made you cum on his tongue and fingers twice before allowing you to take him in your mouth. And after fucking your throat in such a rough pace that he'd managed to make tears well up in your eyes he wanted to show you he could be gentle too. Your legs wrapped around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into the skin of his ass.

“Hannibal deeper please i-ah ugh- want to feel you.”

“Shh dove, take it slow. Can’t have you tiring yourself out.”

Hannibal leaned down, his teeth finding the shell of your ear. You whimpered as he nibbled at the skin. Your fingers clawed at his bare back trying your hardest to make him move closer into you. You were insatiable for him. Completely at his mercy and he knew it. It's why he was taking things slow. Whispering sweet nothings to you and telling you how much of a good girl you were being to him. Every time he praised you he felt your pussy grip onto him like a vice. He enjoyed the feeling just as much as he enjoyed seeing you cum. But there were limits. And you were about to discover Hannibals.

In truth you didn't expect your words to affect him so much. It was more something that turned you on then something you thought he’d enjoy but the moment the words left your lips you knew you’d hit a nerve.

In the best way possible.

He was moving at a glacial pace and you just couldn't take it any longer. You grabbed his face pulling him into a rough kiss. You tugged at his bottom lip a smirk appearing on your features as he gazed at you in hunger.

“Want you to fill me up Hannibal. Want you to put a baby in me.”

That had been the tip of the iceberg. In a flash Hannibal had flipped you around his hand shoving your face into the pillow as he lined himself up with your entrance again. Your body jerked forward as he began to thrust into you. He was going so harshly you couldn’t help but grip at the sheets. Hannibal had, all of a sudden, become more vocal than he had been the entire night. 

“Feel so fucking good dear.”

His groans and grunts followed your screams of pleasure and pretty soon you were feeling your orgasm sneak up on you. Hannibal seemed to feel your need to cum his hand moving to grip at the flesh of your hips in an even harsher manner. He tugged you closer to his body, holding you still for a moment. He took in the feeling of your walls pulsating against him, his eyes closing.

“Hannibal please!”

How could he deny such a sweet thing like you? He couldn’t. So he started moving again, his free hand itching towards your clit. He maneuvered you in a way his tip could hit your g-spot perfectly and in a matter of seconds you were cumming around him. He continued to fuck into your body even as you sagged into the bed. You felt him twitch inside you before he came with a grunt of your name. 

After a while Hannibal pulled out of you, throwing his body next to yours. You lifted your head off the pillow to look at him observing his chest rise and fall rapidly as he tried to regain his breath. You shifted your body so that you were lying on your side, your legs angled in Hannibal's direction. He turned to look at you, giving you a smile before tugging you closer to him. He buried his noise in your hair taking in your scent. The two of you fell into easy slumber, both completely spent.

The next morning you woke up to a sweet smell. You rose for your bed tugging on a robe before making your way to the kitchen. You smiled as you caught sight of Hannibal. He was wearing your apron but his ass was completely on display for you. You walked over to him, giving him a sharp smack on the ass. He jumped at the action, turning to look at you. You simply grinned up at him.

“You cheeky thing.”

“You know you love it.”

He did in fact love it.

Actually, he loved everything about you.

“Whatcha making?”

“Pancakes.”

“Yum. How can I help?”

“Grab the eggs from the fridge for me.”

“Okay.”

The two of you moved in perfect union as if things had always been like this. And perhaps they always would be.

[loveysloveclub]

evermore - jack hughes

in which, raven baltimore and jack hughes were meant to be high school sweethearts. but after jack was drafted, the two didn’t work out.

raven had finally did it. she had gotten the job she had wanted to get since she was thirteen. the only downside was that she had to move away from her family and all the memories she had created back home and move to the big city.

new york had always where she pictured herself living when she was older, and she had finally made it.

releasing a long sigh, raven dropped the final box she had to unpack onto the bed of the her new apartment. picking at the tape until she finally got it, she unwrapped the box. but, when she finally did, she wished she hadn’t.

sitting on top of a pile of old photographs was a photo of her and the only boy she had ever lived staring right back at her. the two were smiling into the camera, as they sat in the front seat of his car.

“jack, stop!” raven laughed as she pushed his head away from her neck. the two were sitting in an empty parking lot after their weekly ice cream date. she was trying to take a photo to remember the night, but jack had other plans.

the boy groaned before looking into the phone screen with a dead panned face. “smile, weirdo.” raven rolled her eyes.

“i saw that.” jack scolded, which brought a smile to his girlfriends face. “then smile.”

the boy sighed loudly before presenting a big smile. raven smiled in content before grabbing his face with her hand and bringing it closer with her face. after taking a few photos, jack grabbed the phone out of his girlfriends hand and threw it in the back seat.

“jack hughes.” she scolded, reaching over to the back seat to grab her phone again. raven released a squeal when jack grabbed her waist and threw her into the back seat, climbing in after her.

raven couldn’t help but smile sadly at the photo as she grabbed a small pile of photos and sat on the edge of her bed. going through them, the next one she stumbled upon was the day of his draft. she was sat next to him, in a long black dress that he said he lived in her. ellen had taken the photo, and quinn and luke had sat on either side of them making fun of how forced jacks smile looked.

he had always hated taking photos.

“jack, smile!” ellen scolded his middle child. raven nudged the boy in the stomach with her elbow, a smile still on her face. jack huffed before smoking forcefully.

quinn and luke snickered from either sides of the happy couple, poking fun at jack in the way that all brothers do.

”okay mom, that’s enough.” jack told his mum, grabbing his phone out of her hands and sliding it into his pocket. “no, no. quinn and luke, get in there.” ellen demanded the boys before taking out her own phone.

jack rolled his eyes as his two brothers squished into the photo. luke slyly wrapped his arm around his brothers girlfriend, producing a laugh from the girl. jack glared at his brother, hitting his arm away from raven.

a couple more photos were taken before ellen smiled in content and walked away whilst looking at the photographs. luke switched places with jack so neither of the boys were third wheeling on either side of the couple.

raven watched intently as jacks leg bounced up and down nervously. the girl reached over and grabbed his hand, placing a small kiss on the back of it before she held it in her own lap.

“are you okay?” she whispered to the boy, who squeezed her hand in affirmation. “you’re gonna do it jack, trust me on this one.”

jack smiled at raven as if she hung the moon and the stars before leaning across his seat and placing a kiss on her lips. raven smiled into the kiss and she placed her hand on the back of his neck.

gags erupted from beside her, causing the two to look over at the other hughes siblings. quinn gagged loudly whilst luke coughed.

jack rolled his eyes at his brothers bestie slumping in his seat.

raven had decided after two hours of reminiscing on her failed relationship that she had had enough, and opted to grabbing a cup of coffee.

what she hadn’t expected was both jack and luke hughes to be walking down the street, with cups of coffees of their own.

“shit.” raven cursed as she frantically looked around the almost empty street to find somewhere she could hide. inching backwards, she kept her eyes on the two boys to make sure they weren’t looking at her. that was, until, her foot gave out and she stumbled backwards into a bush.

“raven?” she could’ve died right then and there, causing when she looked up, she saw the two youngest hughes brothers looking down at her.

“heyyyy, guys. fancy seeing you here?” she squeaked out. luke laughed at the girl before jack bent down to pull her back up to her feet.

the three stood an awkward silence, before jack cleared his throat and glared at his brother. luke, getting the hint, rolled his eyes and gave raven a quick hug before walking back down the street.

raven watched the boy leave, a small smile on her face before redirecting her attention to her ex boyfriend, who was looking at her the way he always had. her heart flipped and her face heated.

“hi.” she spoke softly, smiling. “hey.”

her eyes fleeted down to her feet.

“did you wanna grab some coffee?” jack asked the girl. her eyebrows raised before scrunching in confusion. “what about the coffee you already have?”

jack looked down his coffee cup, scolding himself for getting one already. if he had known he would be running into the girl he hadn’t stopped thinking about since they called it off from long distance, he would have never gotten his daily latte form the coffee shop down the road.

looking around, he quickly threw the coffee cup in the closest bin before turning back to face raven. “what coffee?”

raven laughed loudly. “c’mon, you dork.”

[mizutsugi]

I have a hc that Will bites/chews his lips and that Hannibal reopens the wounds when they kiss so he can taste his blood…. im going feral i need a fic of this plspls…

bittersweet ♱ (hannigraham)

↳request!

↳word count: 1,297

↳cw: blood (lotsss of blood), biting

↳:a/n: OHHH MY GOD you. are actually. so. fucking. brilliant. i love your mind and i love love love this request tysm, i literally saw it in my inbox and started kicking my feet and giggling tehehehehe… i hope i did your idea justice! <3

Will had a lot of nasty habits, and his job with the FBI only made them worse. When he was thinking and working on building his design, he’d pick at the beds of his nails, chew on the inside of his cheeks and worst of them all, bite his lips. Analyzing the same crime scene photos over and over again, the clock tick, tick, tick-ing in the later hours of the night while his eyes scanned the glossy photos… his teeth would pull on his lips, slightly biting into the flesh as he worked. Sometimes, when he was so lost in his recreation of the crimes, or so frustrated with a case, he’d forget his own limits and bite until a wound opened, blood pooling at the impact.

It was no different during the Simmons case. Jack had him and the team at a crime scene in a remote part of a hiking trail in Maryland, mulling over the mutilated corpse of a man. Everyone had stepped out of the scene to let Will, quote, “do his thing”. He closed his eyes and tried to envision himself as the killer, immediately seeing himself on the hiking trail, slowly following a man- white, in his late 20s, hiking alone- like a predator stalking its prey. He saw himself dressed in all black jogging clothes, keeping a steady pace behind, waiting for the perfect opportunity. A window opened in a particularly heavily wooded section of the trail, where he knew no one would see a thing. He began to run behind the man, who had headphones in, before pulling a blade out of his pocket and sleuthing behind the man before skillfully slicing his throat in one quick, deadly move. Blood began to spray out of the open artery, the man falling to the ground before he could even turn to see his killer. He died clutching his neck, attempting to stop what was inevitable. But why were his eyes missing…

Will snapped out his trance, feeling something hot dripping down his chin. He had opened another wound on his lip. He wiped the blood on the sleeve of his jacket and sighed before walking out of the crime scene to regroup with the others. 

-

It was around 8:30 pm when Will arrived at Hannibal’s home, rapping on the door of the grand Baltimore home he found himself too frequently on the doorstep of. Hannibal answered the door after a few moments, smiling fondly as Will walked through his foyer. Will pulled at the heels of his shoes and left them by the entryway, hanging up his winter jacket, leaving him in a dark grey flannel and cargo pants. 

“How is dear Jack?” Hannibal asked, leading Will into his kitchen.

“He’s Jack. I don’t know.” Will stated boredly. He wanted to leave work behind him, as if that was something that was at all possible for him. Hannibal pulled out a nice red wine with an antique label out of his wine rack, uncorking the bottle before pouring the liquid into two stemmed wine glasses he had already had set out on his kitchen island. 

“How are you, then, Will?” Hannibal asked, eyes flicking up to meet Will’s as he topped off the second glass. Though Will avoided eye contact whenever possible, he never seemed to have an issue looking into Hannibal’s. It’s something Hannibal never took for granted, maintaining the belief that eye contact was the polite thing to do when having a conversation with someone- even if one struggled with it. 

“You know better than to ask that.” Will chuckled, accepting the wine glass as Hannibal held it out to him. The room was filled with soft classical music from a distant record player and the rich scent of a hearty roast- one that was slowly cooking in the oven. The boy was impossible sometimes. 

“Yes, I suppose I do.” Hannibal smiled, accompanying Will as he leaned against the marble countertops of the island, watching the dark liquid in his glass spin and spin as he twirled the glass by its stem in his fingers. Hannibal was in a black vest and dark dress shirt, sleeves rolled up midway to his arms to undoubtedly keep them clean as he cooked. 

“It smells good. What’s on the menu tonight?” Will asked.

“A garlic and herb roast tenderloin with a rosemary butter sauce.” Hannibal stated.

“Mm.” Will hummed, closing his eyes to take in the scent, already imaging the tender meat and herbs on his tongue. Hannibal took the opportunity to extend a hand to Will’s face, his calloused palm landing on the scruff on Will’s cheek. He didn’t hold him like a fragile teacup, but rather with a firm hand like something on the cutting board before he would draw the blade down to slice into it. Will opened his eyes, now revealing his exhaustion as they were barely able to stay open. Hannibal leaned in, pausing for a moment to take in Will’s scent- still that terribly cheap aftershave- before connecting his lip to Will’s in a manner that was all too familiar. 

Something was abnormal about their intimacy. When Hannibal kissed Will, it felt wrong to even call it a kiss. Will often felt like it was beyond that, just like how Will wouldn’t call what they had love… it was something beyond that, too. It was complete and mutual understanding. Maybe that’s what Will would call this- an understanding. He felt Hannibal softly pull at his lips with his teeth, feeling his hunger breaking beyond the kiss. He felt a slight sting in the action, and remembered just hours ago when he felt a similar pang when he was nervously chewing on himself. He then felt embarrassment, and wanted to pull away, realizing Hannibal had reopened the scar and was now bleeding into his mouth. 

Hannibal immediately tasted the hot iron on his tongue, and if his eyes were open his pupils would have been blown. He had tasted blood before, obviously, but something was different taking it straight from the wound and into his mouth. It felt primal, and it felt raw. It might have even felt impolite, like a monstrous vampire. But Hannibal knew with Will, it wasn’t monstrous. It was sharing, arguably the most respectable thing to do. Folie à deux. Will tried to break away, hands slowly lifting up to Hannibal’s chest to brace himself. Hannibal, however, couldn’t break away, and he kept sucking on the wound, pulling the crimson straight from the scar in a way that felt oddly… pleasant. Will’s hands fell back down to his sides, and Hannibal’s grip on him began to falter. He reluctantly pulled himself away from the other, still lightly holding his face, now with both his hands.

“Do you feel lightheaded?” He asked lowly, briefly remembering that they were both mortals and that he wanted to protect Will- even if he needed to satiate a hunger that was beyond his control. His eyes didn’t leave the open wound on the inside of Will’s bottom lip, watching as it slowly pooled with more blood. 

Will, feeling himself oddly missing the sickeningly sweet sensation already, shook his head no, lip slightly parted as he tried to regain his breath. Hannibal gave him a moment, and then returned to the boy’s lips, sucking again at the broken skin. Will slightly moaned into the sensation, feeling his hands reach again for Hannibal’s chest, but this time to grip the fabric of his shirt before his knees buckled. Hannibal kept sucking, savoring the new flavor of freshly drained blood. Just like with all the worst sides of Will, Hannibal never wanted him to stop his bad habits that he tried to keep tucked away. They were addictive.

↳a/n: this is my first time doing a request and i already know it's the best one. you ATE with this idea! anyways sorry it was sort of short-tbh, i saw it going a nsfw route but i just couldn't think of anything... like to me, will and hannibal don't have sex... mizumono/wrath of the lamb was their ultimate version of intimacy to me, if that makes sense. anyways thank you so so much for the request, i love love LOVED it!

[madamsnape921]

Dr. Daddy

Pairing: Frederick Chilton x female reader 

Warning: Sugar Daddy/baby

WC: 1847

Raúl Taglist: @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl @law-nerd105  @prurientpuddlejumper  @welcometothemxdhouse @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @lv7867 @word-scribbless 

@plaidbooks @storiesofsvu @navalcriminalimagines

You grew up in a small town, but after completing grad school you found yourself in Baltimore. You landed a 9-5 job in your field and stuck with it for seven years, until the monotony of your daily routine became too much to bear. Every morning, you dragged yourself out of bed, went to work, and returned to your dingy and empty apartment. Once in a while, you would go on a date that either ended disastrously or was unbearably dull.

Eventually, the day arrived when you could no longer tolerate the situation. You had already prepared a resignation letter, and it felt good to put your thoughts into words. The letter was printed out, signed, and handed in right away. With your head held high, you left the office and made your way home. But as soon as you changed into comfortable clothes, the full weight of reality hit you.

You slumped onto your couch as your thoughts raced. You had impulsively quit your job without a backup plan. Thankfully, you had enough money saved up to last you through the month and maybe even the next. But what were you going to do now? You grabbed your phone and started scrolling through job listings. The more you looked, the more nauseous you felt. The idea of going back to another 9-5 job made you cringe. What other options did you have? Maybe starting an OnlyFans account? No, that wasn't something you felt confident in doing. But perhaps you were on the right track with exploring alternative paths now.

Over the next few weeks, you devised a rough strategy. You had recently begun selling photos of your feet on the internet and were pleasantly surprised by how profitable it was. You may have benefited from the money, but the process didn't really matter to you. Thus, you continue to seek out a more efficient way to make a living.

After a few months of wandering aimlessly since quitting your job, you finally found a solution. You made the decision to become a sugar baby. After signing up on a reputable sugar website, you waited for potential matches. And then, like magic, there was a notification.

Dr. Daddy: Hello, I stumbled upon your profile and was immediately intrigued. Your confidence radiates, but there is also a softness to you that draws me in. Your eyes sparkle like precious jewels and your piercing gaze demands attention. I’m Frederick.  

SmutSlut: Hello, Frederick! My name is YN.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life was amazing! It had been almost a year since you first met Dr. Frederick Chilton. You spent most of your time attending social events as his "arm candy," and when you weren't out and about, you were having wild, passionate sex. It baffled you why Frederick didn't just pick someone to settle down with. After all, he was incredibly intelligent, undeniably attractive, and an exceptional lover. 

Your new apartment was incredibly luxurious, and you had never owned such an extravagant wardrobe before. Frederick had made it clear that he was the only sugar daddy you could have for the entirety of your relationship. He took care of all your expenses and spoils you with anything your heart desires. Everything seemed perfect, except for one small issue...you were starting to develop genuine feelings for him.

After much internal deliberation, you make the decision to confront Frederick about the issue. The worst that could happen is that he breaks things off, and you'll have to rebuild yourself and start anew. You send him a text message, mustering up the courage to address the situation head on.

YN: Frederick, I need to talk to you. 

Frederick: …

YN: It’s really important. 

Frederick: I can’t talk right now, YN. 

Well that was weird. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been three weeks since you received the final text from Frederick, and your heart still aches. You've tried reaching out to him several times but have yet to receive a response.

Each passing day feels heavier as you struggle to comprehend Frederick's sudden disappearance from your life. The once vibrant and exhilarating world he introduced you to now feels dull and empty without his presence. You find yourself questioning every moment spent together, trying to decipher any hidden signs or warnings of his impending departure.

Despite your best efforts to move on, thoughts of Frederick consume your mind. His absence leaves a void that seems impossible to fill. Every knock on the door sends a jolt of hope through you, only to be met with disappointment when it's not him standing on the other side.

One evening, as you sit alone in the lavish apartment that once felt like a sanctuary but now feels like a gilded cage, a knock breaks the silence. Your heart races with anticipation as you make your way to the door, desperately hoping it's Frederick returning to explain his absence.

To your surprise, it's not Frederick standing there but a courier holding a small package. Confusion clouds your thoughts as you accept the package, thanking the courier absently before shutting the door behind you. Your hands tremble slightly as you tear open the package, revealing a sleek black box with an ornate letter 'F' embossed on the lid. Your heart pounds in your chest as you slowly lift the lid, revealing a stack of letters neatly arranged inside.

With trembling fingers, you pick up the first letter and unfold it. The elegant handwriting is unmistakably Frederick's, and your breath catches in your throat as you read his words. In the letter, Frederick explains that he had to leave suddenly due to unforeseen circumstances beyond his control. He expresses his regret for not being able to explain in person and admits that he never intended to hurt you.

Tears blur your vision as you read through the rest of the letters, each one detailing Frederick's feelings for you and his struggles with his own emotions. You realize that he had been grappling with his growing affection for you and had chosen to leave to spare both of you from potential heartache in the future. The weight of his words sinks in, and a mix of emotions swirl within you.

Despite the pain of his absence, you find a sense of closure in Frederick's letters. His vulnerability and honesty touch your heart, and you can't help but feel a bittersweet gratitude for the time you shared together. As you read the last letter, a gentle knock on the door startles you.

You set aside the letters and cautiously make your way to the door, unsure of what to expect. With a deep breath, you open it to find Frederick standing there, his expression a tumultuous blend of emotions.

"YN," he begins, his voice soft yet filled with intensity. "I had to come back. I couldn't bear being away from you any longer." His eyes search yours, seeking understanding and forgiveness.

For a moment, silence hangs heavy between you as you take in his presence once again. You struggle to keep your emotions in check as you realize he is using a cane, a new addition that sends waves of emotion through you as you process the change in his appearance.

"Frederick," you whisper, reaching out to touch his shoulder, "what's happened?"

He takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's been... not easy. There were complications, YN. Injuries. But I'm okay now." He forces a smile, but you can tell it's strained. "I missed you, more than I ever thought possible."

You feel a surge of relief and happiness amidst the confusion and worry, but also a mixture of sadness and fear for the unknown. "What does this mean?" you ask, unsure if you're ready to face the future together.

Frederick reaches up and cups your cheek, his fingers gentle yet firm. "It means," he says softly, "that I want to be with you, no matter what. I know we have a lot to discuss and figureout, but I'm willing to face it all with you. I just can't imagine being without you anymore."

His words send a wave of warmth through you, and you find yourself leaning into his touch. "I don't want to be without you either," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you stand there in each other's arms, you can't help but wonder what the future holds for you both. With Frederick back by your side, the world seems a little less dark and a little more full of promise. You know that whatever comes next, you'll face it together, hand in hand, ready to conquer any obstacle that stands in your way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frederick made his way to the couch and carefully set down his cane. He then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, revealing a perfect erection that made your mouth water. As he leisurely stroked his cock, he gazed at you with an intense stare. "Come here and suck Daddy's cock, little girl," he commanded.

 You hesitated for a moment, then approached the couch, your eyes never leaving Frederick's. With trembling hands, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his thick shaft. As you began to stroke him, your other hand made its way up his body, caressing his chest, and eventually finding its way to his nipple.

Frederick's eyes rolled back in pleasure as you gently pinched his nipple, causing him to moan softly. His hand threaded through your hair and guided your head towards his erection. With a mix of devotion and anticipation, you opened your mouth and took his dick inside, savoring the taste of his precum.

As you sucked and stroked, Frederick's breathing grew heavier, and he began to thrust his hips, guiding his cock deeper into your throat. You gagged slightly at first, but the more you tried, the more Frederick pushed, until you found yourself choking on his member, your throat constricting around his girth. Frederick's breaths shortened, and his grip on your hair tightened, both of you caught in this intense, primal dance.

You pulled back, gasping for air, and Frederick's eyes met yours, filled with hunger and approval. His cock twitched in your hand, glistening with your saliva and precum. With a lustful growl, he pulled you up onto his lap. Without any warning, he pushed your panties to the side and plunged his member inside of you. 

“You okay, angel,” Frederick asked, concerned for your well-being.

You gasped, trying to catch your breath. “Yes, Daddy,” you managed to breathe, your body responding to his every touch.

Frederick's fingers found their way to your clit, rubbing it roughly as he thrust into you. Your nerves were set ablaze, and you could feel the familiar tightness building within you. Frederick knew just what to do, and soon you were arching your back, moaning in ecstasy as you climaxed.

Frederick kept up his relentless pace, and just as you thought you couldn't bear it any longer, he groaned and tensed, filling you with his warm seed. You both collapsed onto the couch, your bodies still joined together, hearts pounding in sync.

[film-in-my-soul]

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Summary: Tension still lingers in his frame, and he’s watching Neil like a hawk, as if still expecting him to jump up and run at any moment. It unsettles Neil a little, makes him want to itch at his skin. He’s never seen Andrew act like this, and he’s about to break and ask what’s wrong when Andrew beats him to it. “Do you want to blow me.”

Head in the Clouds | 3,682 | likearecord

Summary: Neil learns about the mile-high club. He can think of a use for that.

Night Practice | 3,769 | mostly_maudlin / @mostlymaudlin

Summary: There are cameras at the Court. This year, Andrew has been thinking about them.

Love Me Like That | 3,788 | moonix / @annawrites

Summary: In which Neil mouths off to some reporters and gets some sweet domestic love-making out of it.

in the heat | 3,874 | rwnjun / @rwnjun

Summary: Neil has a thing with his legs. Andrew figures it out.

The Only Thing That Makes Us Sweat | 4,070 | sambutwithbooks

Summary: They don't do it this way all the time.

But You Painted Me Golden | 4,361 | sambutwithbooks

Summary: The circumstances always have to be just right; an empty house, a stretch of time, and Andrew clearly in the mood to be taken care of.

unbeing dead isn't being alive | 4,380 | scribbleb_red

Summary: Andrew Minyard can’t die - he’s been killed a number of times. Once by Drake, once in the car with Tilda, he should have bled out after being stabbed by one of the men who bashed Nicky... he always wakes up though. Which is why he takes a bullet for Neil Josten, a perfect stranger (and Andrew really means ‘perfect’). Problem: instead of fleeing the scene after being saved, Neil sees a bullet push itself back out of Andrew’s skull. “You’re like me,” Neil says. And Andrew’s whole world shifts on its axis.

Together | 4,421 | AgentCoop / @iamagentcoop

Summary: Love was supposed to be tangible–a thing of expression, a moment of touch or tenderness, a softly spoken I love you. Andrew didn’t love anything–that was a word that didn’t exist in his vocabulary. Sometimes, though, he didn’t hate Neil. Dangerous.

so, if you're lonely (i’m just a shot away from you) | 4,569 | Talls / @tallsinspace

Summary: Neil’s been living on his own for a year or so now. He doesn’t remember the last time he slowed down, the last time he breathed evenly, the last time his heart beat steadily. His mother taught him how to skip town well enough that he’d be unbothered if it wasn't for a particularly tenacious bounty hunter: Andrew Minyard. He’s starting to wonder how bad it would really be if Andrew caught him.

Pigment | 5,099 | AgentCoop / @iamagentcoop

Summary: Andrew steps forward, and now Neil’s heart is beating hard against the cage of his chest because this is Andrew. This is what Andrew does. “You have paint on your face.” Andrew presses a thumb to Neil’s cheekbone. He’s still for a second, eyes fixed firmly on Neil’s eyes, then his thumb slowly brushes from cheek to ear. Neil swallows hard. He’s still holding the paintbrush and for a second, everything narrows down to the sound of Andrew’s breathing. Neil blinks. Then he reaches up and draws a line of brown across Andrew’s nose.

This Modern Love | 10,997 | Mystrana / @mystrana

Summary: Andrew's been bartending for a few years now. He's pretty good at reading people. So when Matt brings his roommate Neil out, Andrew's pretty sure he knows the score. Neil's scorching hot, but there's something dark in his eyes that Andrew recognizes. So Andrew keeps an eye on Neil. Chaos follows.

Pick up the phone | 12,485 | Acetober (allfortheBoyds)

Summary: “A truth for a truth,” The boy suggests. His voice is soft today, gentle and secretive. “No questions about my family,” Andrew demands. “You don’t ask about mine and I don’t ask about yours,” The boy agrees. “Deal,”

your guard's always up, learn to let it down | 13,046 | jingerhead / @jingerhead

Summary: The job had seemed simple enough: available at all times to escort Andrew Minyard wherever he needed to go, keep the paparazzi away, and to not let anyone touch him. Neil was good at his job, but anyone would start to crumble under the pressure of sleeping with their boss, especially when said boss is one of the most popular exy players in the league. Not to mention Neil’s past, which keeps threatening to consume him.

this room, our universe | 13,081 | moonix / @annawrites

Summary: Andrew is tired of being a thirty-three-year-old virgin. Neil offers to help out.

better safe than damned | 18,005 | nanatsuyu / @nanatsuyu

Summary: neil just wants a night of no-strings-attached, tentacle-aided stress relief. things get complicated when his roommate--who he's maybe a little bit in love with--gets home early and offers to stay and make sure the summons goes as intended. (it does not go as intended.)

Touching is Optional | 24,990 | Mystrana / @mystrana

Summary: Five times Andrew came untouched and one time he got a hand

If You Love Me, Come Clean | 34,936 | sundowne

Summary: Neil is an exchange student that intends on keeping to himself. The Foxes are quick to ruin his plans.

finger on the trigger/pedal to the floor | 38,327 | badacts / @badacts

Summary: Neil and Kevin, operatives for the highly secretive US body known only as ‘the Agency’, are very good at their jobs. Maybe Neil isn’t the patriot that Kevin is, but he can recognise the need for people like him, and, if nothing else, he is loyal. However, in the wake of an assassination attempt on the president foiled with the help of talented-but-civilian sniper Andrew Minyard, of the chipped shoulder and the uncanny knack for seeing right through people, Neil begins to question who it is giving him orders. However, asking questions is a dangerous game. If Neil isn’t careful, he’ll end up dead - or worse than.

The Real Folk Blues | 42,365 | moonix / @annawrites

Summary: Captain David Wymack and the bounty hunter crew of the Bebop spaceship might be a little out of their depths chasing down the infamous hacker and notorious runaway Neil Wesninski, whose bounty exceeds even Kevin's wildest dreams. Worst of all, Andrew might actually enjoy it.

Hic Sunt Draconis | 48,994 | exactly13percent_OLD (hymbeaux) / @evanfixes

Summary: Andrew is just trying to keep Kevin alive when an elf jumps into the fray, flashing daggers and blue eyes. He hires the Foxes to help him catch a demon from his past, but it starts to feel less like he's the client and more like he's the protection. Andrew hates how entranced he is by the scarred rogue, with magic on his skin and a tongue as silvered as the city's statues. It's a good thing Andrew needs something to hold his interest. Neil is doing his best to meet the expectation, whether anyone asked for it or not.

Alcyone | 52,740 | exactly13percent_OLD (hymbeaux) / @evanfixes

Summary: "We are an impossibility in an impossible universe." - Ray Bradbury Charles - The Stars fall from the sky. They come to earth in bodies they barely understand, and they wander or run until they are found. Until someone like Andrew finds them. Neil is a Star, and he has no memory of how he fell or why. All he knows is that no one can be trusted, and no one can know what he is. Hiding is the only way to survive—but Andrew ruins that plan. He sees, and even if he doesn't know yet, he will figure it out. And Neil can't help wanting him to.

Shake My Tomb | 53,158 | exactly13percent_OLD (hymbeaux) / @evanfixes

Summary: Nathaniel Wesninski takes his father's life and his father's title at the age of twelve. He kills a man at thirteen. At eighteen, Kevin Day comes to him for help. The Butcher of Baltimore is a name that used to mean something. Under Nathaniel's direction, the Wesninski Family has become an entirely different beast. They are the shadow thrown by the fire of the Moriyamas. Nathaniel isn't one to interfere with something bigger and more dangerous than him, but Kevin's position means something to him. Kevin, and the strange family he brings with him. Maybe even Andrew, the one that challenges Nathaniel the most—and the one that Nathaniel finds himself drawn to. There's a lot at stake, though, and Nathaniel has nothing left to lose. Nothing but himself.

On the impossibility of reality | 56,831 | defractum / @defractum

Summary: “Inception,” says Ichirou Moriyama. ‘You’re crazy,’ Neil does not say, but it’s a close thing. “It can’t be done,” he says instead, after a too long pause.

A Different Matter | 59,314 | moonix / @annawrites & djhedy / @djhedy

Summary: After college, Neil is drifting and a bit lost. When Matt makes him move in with him and his housemates, Neil isn't sure what to expect. Finding a family, having casual sex, and then promptly ruining that by falling not-so-casually in love is not on his agenda, though.

Trigger | 62,506 | mostly_maudlin / @mostlymaudlin

Summary: After an upbringing lacking in mundanity, Neil just wants to live a “normal” life. He’s got a home, a circle of friends, a job — why not give casual sex a shot?

2024 Reclists · INBOX · Blog Updates

[blindingliqhts]

imgonnagetyouback (taylor swift TTPD) is quite andreil to me

‘whether i’m gonna curse you out or take you back to my house, i haven’t decided yet’ and ‘whether i’m gonna flip you off or pull you into the closet, i haven’t decided yet’

that is so andrew with his reminding neil he hates him every time he kisses him, in desperate attempt not to let neil mean something to him (although he knows there’s no going back from falling that far…)

‘even if it’s handcuffed, i’m leaving here with you’

reminds me of the bit in the extra content about when neil was trying to learn how to unpick handcuffs when he’s got them on both wrists, then proceeds to get stuck until after dinner, when andrew refuses to let him out. and (as we know) neil cuffs himself to andrew the following day so that andrew won’t leave him behind again, and andrew doesn’t break himself free. did someone say romance??? (i think so.)

‘we broke all the pieces, but still wanna play the game’

reminds me of after baltimore, when neil points out that his and andrew’s game of truths seems to be over since he ended up having to give all his secrets up for free

‘told my friends i hate you, but i love you just the same’

pretty self explanatory i think, but it also makes me think of when neil finds out that andrew chose him over aaron, and nicky is surprised about it- hearing that andrew let aaron out of their deal because of neil goes against everything he’s assumed about andrew and neil’s relationship (since neither of them will say anything about it), and everything he knows about what andrew is like. and all of it comes down to the fact that andrew loves neil.

‘pick your poison, babe, i’m poison either way’

i’m not as confident with this one, but i thought maybe it could be likened to how whether andrew had chosen to pursue things with neil or not, it would be like poison. neil was the only thing to have caught and held his interest in years, so to let that slip by and do nothing about it could’ve been a waste. yet to have let neil in as he did was a risk beyond belief, considering how badly it went the last time he tried to hold onto someone.

[no-spices-just-pisces]

Foxes Gang Au part 1

The Foxes, Ravens and Trojans were rival gangs on the Palmetto territory

The Trojans came to an begrudging peace with the other two gangs as long as blood wasn’t spilled

They were the ones that wanted to do their business without being at each other’s throats, thanks to their leader Jeremy Knox, whose ever present smile had a subtle treat to it only the trained eye could notice

The Foxes and Ravens were notorious for their rivalry, no peace would ever be settled between them

The Ravens won in numbers and resources but the Foxes won in heart and ambition

Even with so little members, they fought like they had everything to lose, they were a family, pulling each other to the top

The tension between them was always well known on the streets of Palmetto

Dan Wilds, leader of thee Foxes cared about her members like her own blood, always putting their safety first over money

Riko Moriyama, leader of the Ravens, was the exact opposite, sacrificing and torturing recruits left and right for the sake of profit and his own personal satisfaction

Their bad blood only increased as Riko’s second in comand, Kevin Day left the Raven and joined the Foxes after Riko left him broken handed on the streets after a job went wrong

Still, the Ravens took offense as if the Foxes stole their property from then, and war started

The first move was when Fox member Seth Gordon was shot in the chest in the middle of the day by a Raven

The second move was when Seth’s girlfriend, Allison stabbed the Raven in the chest 17 times

Foxes were restricted from walking Palmetto’s streets alone from then on

The Trojans made their statement of neutrality known, but there were whispers stating that they would take the Foxes’s side if things went too far

No one would have thought that the factor that would settle the war between the two gangs would come in the form of a 5 feet 3 redhead with attitude problems

Nathaniel Wesninski grew up around violence, being thought from an way too early age that his he would grow up to inherit his father’s crime empire and rule over Baltimore with a hand of steel

His mother didn’t want that future for him, so she ran away with him in the middle of the night when he was 11

They had been on the run for 8 years until their father had caught up with them and took away the only person who ever cared about him

He managed to escape his father a second time, but barely

Without his mother his life didn’t look like it was going to last much longer, his father would eventually catch up to him again

Nathaniel, now under the identity of Neil Josten, ran to Palmetto, the last place he had been with his mother before they ran away, remembering the power that place held, hoping he could find someone more powerful than his father to either protect him or kill him first

His salvation came in the face of Ichirou Moriyama, who didn’t take Neil under his protection because of his heart, but in need of a mean to tighten the leash he had on his younger brother

Riko had too much power in Palmetto, being given that territory by their father, since he could never interfere in their business

Neil, being recognized by Ichirou, was sent in the heart of the gangs’ war to survey everything happening and report back

This was against everything his mother had wanted for him, but this offered him protection against his father, so it worked

[t3acupz]

Do you have anymore Randell x Matthew headcannons or ideas? :0

Beasthawk headcanons:

Randall is from a wealthy socialite family in Baltimore, Maryland. At the age of five, he was diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome. He always did very well academically in the elite private schools his parents paid for, and went on to doubled majored in engineering and paleontology at John Hopkins University. Randall’s parents sent him to be treated by Hannibal Lecter when he was 16 for his identity disorder. Hannibal taught Randall how to hide his symptoms, and encouraged his homicidal ideation. Hannibal treated Randall for two years until he was 18 when he left home to go to university. He’s currently 27 years old and working at the Baltimore Museum of Natural History. When he is working there alone at night, he likes to take the skulls and claws of apex predators home so he can recreate them using stronger materials for his mecha kill suit.

Randall also has dissociative identity disorder, and his other personality is The Beast. He can’t control when The Beast takes over but he needs the mecha suit to feel like his body matches his mind or else he starts having a nervous breakdown.

Matthew doesn’t like to talk about his past. His biological parents were physically and mentally abusive. Even at the age of 29, his chin scar still gives him bitter flashbacks to his childhood when he looks in the mirror. He was taken into a several foster homes and group homes starting at the age of seven. He studied various specialities during his adolescence because of the time spent with different foster families (information systems technican, basic nursing skills, explosive ordnance disposal, culinary arts, etc). However, Matthew never lasted more than a few months in each new home because of his behavioral problems. He was 15 when he had his first stint at a mental institution where they officially diagnosed him with antisocial personality disorder (APD).

Matthew Brown is not Matthew’s given name. He has had multiple identities and has been using forged ID documents to find work ever since he was 18.

Depending on which canon divergence I feel like exploring, Matthew is either still in love with Will Graham but also has feelings for Randall or he hasn’t met Will in the canon yet.

They like to go hunting together for both humans and animals. Matthew brings his tranquilizer gun, and once their prey is immobile he enjoys watching Randall tear them apart.

After some coaxing, Matthew convinced Randall to get matching tattoos of a hawk encircling a cave bear on their left biceps.

Matthew loves to listen to Randall talk about engineering and prehistoric animals for hours. Randall’s low monotone voice makes him feel calm.

One day, Randall found a stray tortoiseshell kitten in a dirty alleyway in Baltimore. Matthew is more of a dog person but Randall looked so ecstatic that he let her stay. Randall named her Smiley (after Smilodon).

NSFW headcanons:

Matthew is always covered in bruises because when The Beast fucks him it’s always rough with a lot of biting.

Randall typically likes to bottom for Matthew when he is not The Beast.

Matthew has an average-sized cock but on the thicker side. Randall has a large cock that curves up a bit.

Matthew enjoys giving head but Randall finds that it makes him oversensitive. Matthew loves watching Randall squirm and moan as he holds him down while he’s sucking his cock.

Sometimes when they cuddle before sleep, Matthew uses Randall for cockwarming. Randall doesn’t mind because he loves being held.

In an Omegaverse AU, Randall would be an Alpha with a calm nature and Matthew would be an Omega with a hostile nature.

[il-mostrc]

It was the Christmas gala of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra - the last grand event of the year, with a focus on the special contributions made by those sitting on the board and other generous members of the local society. It was the first time that Melissa attended after securing a seat and becoming a board member, a duty that the brunette took quite seriously.

When the countess arrived to the function with a hand over Hannibal's arm, the reactions were not dissimilar from the usual response obtained during such times: not so subtle looks and whispers going around like fire catching on dry grass during summer. It was easy to assume that whatever response she had offered to the doctor's friend in a prior occasion had not been sufficient; if anything, perhaps it made it all worse.

"People are talking. Again," the woman murmured when Hannibal turned to take her coat, revealing the beautiful gown hiding under the furs - white, pure as the snow that was falling outside, and one of the countess' favorite colors. Once the psychiatrist too relieved himself of his heavy layers, Melissa canted her head so they could continue their private conversation, "Are you sure you would like for this to go on unrestrained? I am no stranger to the hushed conversations behind my back, but I would not like to drag your reputation with me."

Melissa's hand moved over his arm then, gloved fingers drumming idly atop his dress jacket. The brunette caught the stares of a few guests with a smile of her own (always amusing to see people ducking their heads and pretend they were not staring a minute ago), and then proposed something else to her partner. "Or I could kiss you and give them something that is worth talking about. What would you prefer, bellissimo?"

Men and women of high social standing were subject to the keen scrutiny of their peers. The intricacies of their relationships consistently became a topic of fervent discussion. For those who remained unattached, even the mere hint of a romantic entanglement could ignite a flurry of whispers throughout the elite circles. Dr. Lecter, a man of enigmatic reputation, had expertly maintained his relationships under a veil of secrecy, thereby earning the distinction of remaining unshackled by societal conventions. The scene that played before them caused an uproar, for this 'new money' had waltzed into the picture and snatched what they thought was a man who held no strings attached to anyone.

Once their coats were neatly arranged in their respective cubbies, Dr. Lecter extended his arm, inviting her to intertwine hers with his once more. A sly smile played upon his lips, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd with a predatory glint before returning to rest upon her. In contrast to her white dress, he had chosen a darker palette, a deep burgundy with a splash of white with his pocket square pattern. Eschewing the usual Balthus knot, he donned a sleek black bowtie.

They captured the attention not only by words, but by imagery itself. Hannibal had held his tongue until they were well into the den of lions, though they both knew it was not the people surrounding that growled and sharpened claws. "I would typically adhere to the customary notion of 'ladies first'… however…"

As he spoke, his hand reached up to gently caress her face, his thumb following the delicate contour of her jaw with a feather-light touch. A smile danced across his lips as he leaned in, capturing hers in a kiss that unfolded in two soft waves: the initial connection of their lips followed by a tender parting that allowed him to savor the softness of her painted skin. His hand descended to encircle her neck, his thumb resting with calculated gentleness against her jawline.

With their faces mere centimeters apart, his smile reemerged, accompanied by a few carefully chosen words that hung enticingly in the air: "What do you think? Have we fed the masses enough?"

[moonlight26posts-blog]

In Baltimore City, MD: 12 y/o friendly but very stressed out senior surrendered to the shelter just before the holidays - BARCS, Baltimore MD Please consider fostering this boy Shilo and saving his life for this holiday!! Email foster@charlietotherescue.org Shilo- 12 y/o, unaltered male, 40lbsSenior boy Shilo was surrendered to the shelter by his family just before the holidays. Understandably he is quite stressed, confused, and overwhelmed, spending a lot of his time barking and panting frantically in his kennel, wondering where he is. Nevertheless, he has been friendly and cooperative for handling.Upon examination, our vets noted that Shilo has cataracts (but is visual), some dental recession, and a grade 1/6 heart murmur. It is recommended he be re-ausculted in a few days in case the murmur is stress related. A full medical summary can be provided upon request.No senior should spend their days in the shelter, and sweet Shilo here is of course no exception. Since his microchip information did not match the person who surrendered him, he is being held for a standard stray hold period until 12/8, at which time he will be available for rescue transfer.Please let us know if your organization can help! Thank you, The BARCS Rescue Team Baltimore Animal Rescue & Care Shelter (BARCS)​New Address! 2490 Giles Rd, Baltimore, MD 21225rescue@barcs.org| (410) 396-4695 Rescue pick-up hours:Monday-Friday: 10:30 a.m.-6:30 p.m. Saturday and Sunday: 8:30 a.m.-4:30 p.m Adoption hours:Monday-Friday: 2 p.m.-6 p.m.Saturday and Sunday: 11 a.m.-4 p.m.Baltimore Animal Rescue and Care Shelter, Inc. (BARCS) | 2490 Giles Rd | Baltimore, MD 21225 US

[withinkandquill]

❛You left! You left and never looked back! What was I supposed to do?❜ // Anya & Will // @devilswill

Anya had not expected to see Will Graham again.

In those early days after the FBI had caught up with them, after Hannibal gave himself up to them in attempt to keep Will close, she had been so angry. It was the second time that her whole world had been suddenly turned upside down, her sense of normalcy and security uprooted, her sense of self threatened. Only this time, it wasn’t by armed strangers in government-issued Kevlar. This time it was by Will. Her friend. Or so she had thought. And maybe it was partly her fault. She should have known it was coming when he tried to convince her that Hannibal was trying to hurt her in some way, but she had chosen to believe nothing would really come of the delusion and in time, it had seemed to dissipate. She had been more worried about Will leaving. It never crossed her mind that he would actually take anything from her, especially not Hannibal himself.

But he did. He pointed in Hannibal’s direction. His presence led to Hannibal’s incarceration. And then he left. Will had destroyed what little she had built and left her with visits at Alana Bloom’s discretion, conversations held from the other side of a wall and carefully veiled against prying ears, and the deep-seated fear that someone would soon pull even that last load-bearing brick from her tower and send it all crashing down around her.

She should have left first. It was usually too easy for Anya to do the leaving, the cut the ties that began to tether her to others with her own two hands. Until Will, her friends had flitted in and out of her life like butterflies - beautiful but so short-lived. It still wasn’t clear to her why Will was different or why she felt the need to hold onto him and Hannibal both even when she began to fear they would tear each other apart in the end. Maybe she was just terrified of loss, maybe she just didn’t want to be alone, or maybe she was just stupid. Anya didn’t care to find out.

But now he stood before her, feet rooted to the concrete path that would carry him to the doors of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Anya never did find out where he had gone when he left his home in Wolf Trap, Virginia. Not that she had harbored any desire to hunt him down past a week or so after she lost him, or rather she had not wanted to face his obvious rejection head-on. Her fear might have been the only thing that saved him. More than once her anger at his betrayal and disappearance combined brought about fantasies of her hands around his neck, squeezing the life from him. A life for the loss of the one she knew. It seemed fair enough to her. Every time, she wondered if Hannibal would approve, but of course they couldn’t talk about that with Alana no doubt listening in.

That anger had lessened with time. Three years of readjustment was a balm against it. But now that he stood before her, his expression unreadable to her, anger flared anew like a freshly stoked fire. She barely hears his greeting words past the rush of her own blood in her ears but they illicit a reaction all the same - a narrowing of her eyes, a grinding of her teeth, a quick advance. Her hands ball into fists at her sides.

“You left! You left and never looked back!” Her palms flatten on his chest, giving him a shove as she moves closer. Three years had not lessened the ferocity of her temper any more than the seven years before Will did and the fact that they stood before a building full of security officers did little to deter it. “What was I supposed to do?”

[aledethanlast]

Okay but like if you think about it, Neil's surviving Baltimore isn't all pure luck. That is to say, it's only 30% luck. The other 70% is everyone else involved in that catastrophe royally fucking up, jumping the gun, or being generally bad at their jobs.

Like, Nathan gets out of prison, and priority 1 is to reestablish his presence as fast as possible. He needs to prove to Kengo that he's still in the game and doesn't need to be replaced with someone who doesn't get caught.

Except Kengo is dying. Hiding it, but definitely dying. Meaning his comeback has a VERY short deadline.

And then Riko, who has been running around using yakuza resources for personal grudges unchecked, hands him his son on a silver platter. Christmas come late.

And then...he waits? I can only assume Nathan spends two months tormenting Neil with that countdown because that was the earliest he could orchestrate a meeting with both Kengo and Ichirou, where he intended to present Nathaniel's severed head on a literal silver platter, and thus prove his worth to his old boss, and secure his favor with the incoming.

Except knowing that the feds were watching the house apparently didn't extend to knowing that they HIRED HIS BROTHER IN LAW TO KILL HIM CIA STYLE.

(Which also??? Hello???)

Well they do that, and don't even realize that Nathan didn't put up a fight because he was busy trying to kill the best witness against him until the guy physically walks up to them and says so. And then the gjy starts being contrarian and they guy huffy but whatever. That's a minor problem for them. Their big concern is closing this case in a nice bow without the DoJ ever finding out what they did. Or worse, the press.

Meanwhile...the Moriyamas. We have only the tiniest glimpse of what was happening inside that family, but I am sure of one thing: Ichirou's ascension to the throne was NOT a peaceful transition of power. Kengo refusing to step away gracefully, covering up hospitalizations, he likely held on to power until the very last second, denying his son the time and space to secure the loyalty of their generals in advance.

So now Kengo is dead, right-hand man not only gone but his network ripped apart by carrion, and he needs to cauterize every bleeding limb before he's caught, challenged, or deposed. He is PANICKING.

By the time he gets to Palmetto, and Neil says "Don't look at me, I'm the one person in this fiasco who knows their place", Ichirous internal response is little more than "Oh thank God."