I'm not sure if anyone will really read this, but upon looking I can't seem to find any of these. So I just thought it'll be a nice idea :)
a friend of mine made the cover
Feel free to request an imagine for a character or if there is a preference y...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
You were eating lunch with your husband, Hannibal since you had the day off.
He was sat opposite you, fork in hand, watching as you flipped through a few of his drawings. The faces you made never failed to bring a smile to his face. You stopped for a moment, realising that you had scanned the whole contents and carefully placed it back on the pile. He smiled at you, taking your hand in his larger one and bringing to his lips. A giggle softly rippled past your lips as you tugged his hand towards you.
He had scarring across his knuckles, painting them a milky white colour and his nails were slightly chipped, not that you really minded. You brought them to your plump lips and placed a delicate kiss on each one of his scars.
"Do you like them, my lamb?" He asked, smiling down at you, his Danish accent flowing like honey. You smiled back and nodded. "They're beautiful, Han"
For as long as he'd known you, he'd loved the sound of your voice. To him, it sounded like November fire, bringing life back into his long dead heart. Without realising, his cheeks flared up slightly and he averted his eyes back to his plate.
"There is another under my desk if you'd like to look in it, my love"
You gave his knuckles one last kiss and scampered towards his desk. He was silent as you searched under the drawer.
'It must be further under than i thought' you ponder, getting down on your knees to peer underneath the wood. His eyes widened at you but he made no noise to alert you of what he saw.
You were now on your hands and knees in front of the desk, your short black skirt flaring up and giving him a perfect view of your lace panties. He bit his lip at the scene, feeling his suit trousers growing tighter.
You let out a yelp of success, pulling out the pad of art. Your skirt fell back as you rose back to your feet, strutting back to the table. Just as you walked past him, however, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you onto his lap.
"I think that skirt should be reserved for me, my lamb"
