Bella/Herself. Masturbation. Accidentally depressing. Porn. Short.

She can’t explain why she’s stopped feeling sexy around him-

Though, she thinks that maybe it started around the time she started lying to him about that broken, horrible thing forming inside of her-

But still, laying here, on her own and so far away from him she feels like herself, worries that maybe there’s something broken on the outside too, between them-

No-

She tries not to think, closes her eyes to the light streaming through the window, between the folds of the curtains, presses the button, starts the hum-

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Pretty fucking OOC Hannibal/Will because I just fucking needed it okay. (For Eli too, for the exact same fucking reasons)

His fingers press into the wood, nails digging in against the curve of it, holding on- his knees hurt from the way they’re spread, open and wide and slipping against the desk- head down, ass up with his eyes closed and mouth open.

And Hannibal is somewhere behind him- he can feel him there even without feeling him. 

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Hannibal/Will.

A short addition to Eli’s MOST RECENT PIECE. 

It was the noises Will made in his sleep that brought him here, (that, and his own curiosity of course), down the stairs from his own bedroom, down to sit in his recliner chair, directly in front of Will- his chin resting on the tops of his fingers, leaning forward a little to catch every stray motion before him.

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Will/Himself. Will/Hannibal. Porn. Sleep deprived. And a little asphyxiation.

He presses the cassette down into an old, beaten up stereo- one he had to dig out of the very back of his storage locker, behind the mess of boat motors he swears he’ll get back to one day, behind the tackle boxes, the bait boxes, behind the little pieces of his old life.

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