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#Hannibal One-shot
hjartasalt · 2 months
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Hey so this is insane
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dolicekiss · 3 months
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Hi,
I heard you were taking requests again, so I hope you don‘t mind me dropping one here.
Could you please write a story/one-shot, which takes place in the Hannibal universe, where Hannibal falls for one of his patients, who was a victim of a murderer, but managed to escape unscathed. When the murderer resurfaces again, she needs to stay with him and slowly he makes her depend on him. After hearing the news of his latest kill, Hannibal twists/abuses the situation to make her seek comfort from him.(with nsfw?)
Fragile Minds
PAIRING: Dark!Hannibal Lecter X Fem!reader
CONTENT WARNING: SMUT (18+, mdni please), coercion, adult grooming, taking advantage of reader, manipulation, trauma, mention of kidnapping, mention of nightmares, PTSD, gaslighting, age gap (unspecified but legal), unprotected sex, fingering, kissing, choking, bruising, slight fluff, infatuated hannibal who'll do anything to have reader.
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Therapy was merely an escape.
For you, it was.
An escape from the people who gave you pitiful looks, sympathizing with you. Feeling bad for a girl like you who suffered from so much at such a young age.
You resented it. Everytime when you'd attend dinners at your relatives’ houses or when your friends would gaze at you with a sad pathetic look, treating you like some fragile little girl who needed extra care. It was all overbearing for you.
Hannibal Lecter’s office was the perfect escape.
He did not see you as some broken little doll, no. Rather he validated you, understood you, listened to you and made you feel comfortable in his presence. The only person who did not look at you with a pitiful, sad gaze.
You saw him as a kind and polite man who attended to your needs, your mental needs and took care of you in a way no one else had ever before.
You'd attended your session again, with a smile on your face. When the door to his office you opened, your smile widened and Hannibal returned it. You simply loved how he had created a safe space for you, how he did care for your well-being. You were his patient so it was his job but at least he was better than all the other people who only saw you as some broken shell.
“Hello.” Hannibal greeted and you nodded your smile, stepping inside. “Good evening, Doctor Lecter.”
His smile lines deepened. “Good evening. How are you feeling today?”
You slid off your leather coat, hanging it over the hook. Hannibal lead you to your seat and you happily followed, a constant routine which you'd gotten used to. Hannibal sat before you, on his own brown leather couch.
“I feel alright." You coyly said, hands toying with each other. Not a sign of discomfort but rather nervousness. Hannibal had made sure that you were comfortable around him.
Hannibal was not a man that was easily swooned away yet he was completely in awe whenever you played with your hands, twisting one finger over the other. That habit of yours was adorable to him, sort of akin to him.
Hannibal tilted his head.
You licked your lips. “I feel alright but I have nightmares about what happened.”
You had sort of disconnected from your trauma as that was the only way you could possibly cope. Hannibal noticed it but he didn't say much, when he should have. It was only to bring you closer to him, to make you depend on him.
“What do the nightmares consist of?”
“Him dragging me through a dark alley and showing me where he'll bury me.” You said all that so nonchalantly, Hannibal knew you hadn't broken up about it yet.
Ever since the incident, you shut everyone out. Felt like discussing about what happened and how it made you feel was not necessary at all and when the FBI advised you to speak to their psychiatrist, in order to help you regain the suppressed memories of the assault you'd encountered, it worked.
Hannibal smiled. “Does it scare you? You have trouble sleeping?”
You blinked, shaking your head. “No, I wake up numb. I was told it is unhealthy to not feel anything regarding this matter.”
“Are you bothered that he has not been apprehended yet?” You nodded your head in response.
You'd nearly died that rainy night. Your perpetrator had fully planned to murder you that night as you were the perfect victim in his followed pattern but somehow you managed to survive. Got away when he was busy digging up your grave.
The feeling that overcame you when you witnessed your own grave, where you'll be buried after your life has been snatched away from you — it was too foreign. A different type of overwhelming fear which consumed you to the point your brain had entirely shut it out.
As traumatized as you were, Hannibal was aware you had not fully coped up with this painful incident. You walked around and pretended like you were fine but he knew he needed to break you, in order to put you back together.
This time, to his own likeness.
“He has not killed anyone after I got away from him. I think he is going to come back for me.” You spoke, tone impassive whenever you spoke about your trauma. “The thought always lingers in the back of my mind, Doctor Lecter.”
The aforementioned tossed one leg over the other and nodded his head, acknowledging your restlessness. “You survived him with your strong will to live. If he is to resurface again, I'm sure you will be able to defend yourself against him.”
Hannibal was right and you knew it. You'd escaped him with the desperate urge to live and that desperation saved your life.
But then Hannibal spoke up again with certain darkness in his voice. “You'll always have me, love. I will be there for you as I always have been.”
You smiled softly.
He was right. He was there — from the beginning to the end. He had coaxed you out of your shell, helped you express your feelings, much more. Hannibal had helped you beyond anything and you felt like you'd forever be in his debt.
Hannibal’s proclivity for protecting you and caring for you stemmed from the romantic feelings he began to develop for you over the course of the past few weeks. The moment he laid his gaze upon you, he knew you were the one.
You'd climbed over the walls around him without even intending to do so. Your little laughs, your interest in seeing the art he'd created with only a pencil, even reaching you calligraphy.
Hannibal was deeply in love and that was not a good sign.
“I appreciate you, Doctor Lecter.” You smiled, teeth showing. The session soon came to an end and you left for your apartment. Hannibal didn't like seeing you go but he had to let you go. There was so much he could do to bring you closer to him and he noticed how you were already beginning to become dependent on him.
He liked that. The taste of freedom was on your tongue but your strings were controlled by Hannibal.
As soon as you reached your apartment, you could only look forward to another session with him. You were entirely blind to how much you had grown attached to Hannibal, how much he affected you and everything in your life.
You only saw the camaraderie he offered you in a time of struggle, pain and utter loneliness.
But little did you know that was the whole plan. Hannibal had been offered a chance at friendship before too but he rejected it, all and everytime though with you, the case was different. He was a lonely man, painfully lonely and he craved company.
Your company.
So when he saw you, he made it his mission to make you depend on him. Grow used to him, attached and fully bonded like you were his mate.
You turned on the TV, hoping you'd be able to relax but your phone dinged. You reached for it, picking it up and unlocking. Eyebrows scrunching up when you saw the link you'd received from an anonymous number.
You contemplated whether to check it or not and your curiosity finally got the best of you when you tapped on it. It took you to an article — by Freddie Lounds.
Your blood ran cold when you read the contents of it. Fingers losing their strength and your phone slipping out of their grasp, hitting the couch. You blinked profusely, hoping that this was a lie but you were all aware that no matter how problematic Freddie Lounds was, she delivered real events and not some made up ones.
The article included of your killer — finally risen again, taking another victim. Your breathing grew uneven, all the memories your brain had locked out now freeing themselves.
Shattered breathing and a thumping heart reminded you of your suppressed fears when the anesthesia of your mind had wore off.
Body beginning to oscillate on the couch, your teeth ripped the skin off your lips, causing them to bleed. Panic had filled you up.
You were next. You knew it.
In this vulnerable moment, you knew only one person that was capable of calming you down and that was Hannibal Lecter. You didn't think for a moment, grabbing your car keys and heading for the door.
Seeing the weather only increased the fear and uneasiness which you attempted to repel inside you. Grey clouds loomed above your head when you made it outside your apartment building and the rain only felt like droplets of acid pouring over your skin.
Tears losing their identity within the cries of mother nature, engulfing your whole being.
How sad, how pitful that what worked to calm down others was burning you.
You tried to scream but nothing came out.
All your suppressed emotions had swam up to the surface and there was no escape.
You don't remember how you managed to drive through the heavy rain, soaked with a blurred vision. It was a blessing — rather a curse from God to have protected you from an inevitable car crash.
All you remember was ending up outside Hannibal’s house — fist banging over the wood. When the door was pulled open, Hannibal found you soaked and withered like a flower in front of him. Drenched hair sticking to the ridges of your face, dress clinging to your frame, shoulders showing off a perpetual tremor, cheeks flushed and through all that Hannibal managed to pick up on the tears that slid.
He was quick to pull you inside, without a word exchanged between the two of you. His palm opened, laying on your back. You had no idea why you were here but being in Hannibal’s presence sufficiently managed to make you feel a tad bit better.
You looked up at him, mumbling incoherent words and the man didn't hesitate for a moment to bring you in a hug. His own button up and vest becoming wet in the process.
All that mattered to him was comforting you.
You buried your face in his chest, sobbing and finally breaking apart. The way he exactly needed you to. His heart ached feeling your little body shiver in his hold but this was necessary.
He had to do this. Had to trigger you somehow so he could find you in a vulnerable headspace and coerce full codependency out of you.
The killer only helped fasten the process and Hannibal knew Freddie Lounds was an unethical journalist who only cared for content. Working in the FBI wasn't that bad when Hannibal had access to the murder files and photographs. All he had to do was anonymously send to Lounds and then send the article to you.
A smile decorated his features when you crumbled in his embrace.
“He-He'll come—come back for me. He—”
You were a mess. A mix of overwhelming emotions and beautiful flesh. Hannibal shushed you, caressing your head with his palm as you unleashed weeks worth of suppressed trauma and anguish.
“I'm here.” He said softly, tightening his hold over you in a protective manner. “You have me, only me. You don't need anyone else.”
You nodded in agreement, both palms pressed over his broad chest. Your body had grown cold and Hannibal was beginning to worry.
He pulled apart from you, or attempted to but you clung to him like a koala. Fists bunching up the material of his button up, body aching to feel his warmth. Becoming greedy but Hannibal was going to give you all the warmth you so desperately craved.
“You will fall sick, love. Let me bring you some clothes.”
Your hands loosened their grip over his shirt and he peeled from me. Biceps soaked from how tightly they were draped around you, skin underneath them revealed. After sitting you down on the couch, Hannibal went to find you some clothes.
He could not put the paramount happiness he felt into words. Everything, from beginning to end had worked in his favor. He was in control and he enjoyed it more than anything. All he had to do was use your trauma against you, push you into a state of vulnerability where you only needed him.
He brought you his own clothes, a shirt that would be too big on you. Hannibal craved to see how you'd look, he was fucking excited.
You were still shivering, chest leaping up from little hiccups. Hannibal walked over to you with the shirt and a glass of water he'd fetched from the kitchen on his way to the living room.
“Here, drink this. You'll feel better.” You reached for the glass with shaky fingers and Hannibal noticed them. In one single go, you finished the glass. He took it from you and placed it on the nearest table before handing you over his shirt.
“Please change into this. You'll fall sick and we don't want that happening, do we?”
You had no energy to change. It required all your will power to drive here and now you were too far gone to even function like a proper human. Hands numb and frozen.
You raised your gaze at him, glossy and red eyes becoming the cause of his heavy beating heart.
Hannibal swallowed.
He did not know you would grow this beautiful, this breathtaking after breaking apart. In your destruction, you were the most beautiful. Blooming like a new flower. Like a piece of art, you filled his heart with bliss.
“I can provide help.” He tested the waters and all you did was turn around on the couch, moving to the side to reveal the zipper of your dress to him.
Hannibal sat next to you, brawny hands reaching for the zipper. You closed your eyes as tears fell, a few sobs escaping. Hannibal’s fingers slowly dragged the zipper down and you leaned more into his touch when his fingers accidentally brushed over your wet skin. You swallowed — body growing used to the man's minor touch.
He exposed your back when the zipper met the end, glistening bare skin greeting him. He could tell from the way you shifted in your seat or how the goosebumps poked through your skin that you were relishing in this.
Hannibal’s knuckles caressed your skin, your breath hitched.
Hannibal carefully and tenderly pushed the sticky dress off your shoulders, exposing your beautiful shoulders. Bare and raw to his lascivious gaze. He was so obsessed, so infatuated. Fingers dancing across where your shoulder blades sat, tongue swiping over his own lips.
He was a starving madman.
Only the sound of fire crackling over the wood in the fireplace could be heard in the room, along with your bated breathing and sharp intakes of air. Hannibal’s adam apple bobbed up and down as he fully pulled the dress down.
The heavy soaked material of cotton bunched up at your waist. Your bare chest rose up and fell down in uneven breaths, nipples hardening because of the chilly air.
You were ready to stand up to discard the dress but Hannibal’s hands circled around your arms, pulling you back against his chest. Your eyes fluttered shut as he breathed over your nape.
His warm breath leaving chills in its wake and you shuddered in his grasp. The self control Hannibal possessed was worthy of immense respect and appreciation because only he knew how badly he wanted to let go and claim you.
But he had to wait.
He waited for so long, what's more a few hours or days.
He found himself growing obsessed with your mere scent. How sweet you smelled, how hypnotic it was. Worked like magic over him.
“Arms.” Hannibal sounded commanding and you raised your arms, slipping them into the large sleeves of the emerald shirt. Hannibal didn't bother to unbutton it as it was oversized and you slipped right into it.
He soon pulled the dress down to your legs and discarded it somewhere.
He brushed your hair with his beautifully sculpted fingers, mind overthrown by the images of your bare back and gorgeous shoulders.
You slowly turned to face him, face flushed and tears coating the apple of your cheeks.
“Thank you.“ You whispered, stifling the urge to sob. You were still all over the place, hoping that all of this was a dream and you'd wake up soon between your thick blanket.
Hannibal nodded. “I told you, I will always be here. You're safe with me, love. I can protect you from this man, keep you safe but you need to stay close to me in order for me to protect you.”
You thought about it and he was right.
If you'd gone to someone else after reading that article, they would have never opened their door to you. Never would have allowed you in but Hannibal, like your guardian angel, was right there.
Your gaze fell to capture his lips for a moment before flickering back up to his sparkling eyes.
“It is your decision, at the end.” Of course it was.
But your words were driven by Hannibal’s manipulation and gaslighting. Using his wit and psychology to push you over the cliff, only to be waiting down there to catch you.
Your words were yours but your lips were controlled by Hannibal.
You shuffled closer to him, knees coming in contact with his. With hesitation, you threw your arms around him and veiled your face with his nape. Hannibal circled his arms around your frail waist, a smug smile crossing his lips.
A smug smile of victory.
When you broke the hug, Hannibal cupped your face and leaned in to press a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. You didn't complain, knowing that this was unethical but you didn't care. You craved this, a doomed touch starved creature you were.
Hannibal’s blonde strands fell over his face and you reached for them, caressing them between your fingers. He took in a deep breath, fingers nearly digging into your waist from the sheen of desire on his mind.
“You're like spring, my love. Bloom like the flowers.” Hannibal whispered, finally leaning in to press his lips over yours. You allowed him to, your own hands slithering over his nape, fingers tangling in his roots.
Hannibal pressed his body against yours in desperate attempts to feel you as he pushed him down on the couch. His lips devoured you, the kiss full of seeting passion. You felt his tongue coat your lips with saliva and you parted open your mouth, a lustful invitation.
His tongue mingled with yours, breath and spit becoming one. You whimpered into thw kiss as Hannibal’s hands moved up from your waist to unbutton the shirt he'd put you in. Only enough to expose your breasts to him. Hannibal loved how the silk shirt clung to your body, how it complimented your soft skin.
You arched your back when his hands fondled with your breasts, thumbs squeezing your hardened peaks between them. Hannibal had lost all his restraint. He could not stop kissing you, forbidding you the pleasures of breathing.
You tried to pull away but that was a mistake as he began to kiss you with more vigor. Locking your lips together, fucking your mouth with his wet tongue. His saliva had coated your lips as well as your chin, in tiny invisible rivulets
“H-Hannibal, wait.” You whispered and he finally tore himself away from you, breaking the kiss.
When your eyes got used to his vision, your cunt throbbed at how handsomely disheveled he appeared. Hair a mess from all the entanglement of your fingers, lips glossy with your saliva and eyes darkened. His blown out pupils were a full proof of his overbearing need for you.
His face moved to hide in your neck, lips peppering soft wet kisses over it. You winced when you felt him bite into you, a whine leaving you. Hannibal's one hand slithered down to the lace panties you wore, fingers grazing over the hem of them. You inhaled a sharp breath — feeling him slip his hand inside your underwear.
His fingers gathered your arousal before pressing over your clit, rubbing it in soft circles. Your back arched off the couch as your breathy moans grew louder. One hand toying with your cunt while the other twisted and tugged at your nipple, you were in complete bliss.
Hannibal’s fingers dropped lower and he slid one inside your cunt. Your walls clenched around him, a whine escaping you. If you'd been told you would end up with your psychiatrist’s fingers buried inside your cunt, you would probably think of it as a fever dream but here you were.
Hips writhing underneath him. Hannibal stared at you, licking his hungrily. You looked so breathtaking, panting like you'd run a marathon. Cheeks blossoming with a sweet pink hue.
Hannibal pulled out his fingers, losing his grip on patience. He could unfold the layers of your body some other day, right now he needed you and he was going to take was his.
He rid himself of his clothes, discarding the pieces by the couch. You were in awe of what he had to offer especially when your gaze lowered to between his legs. A cock rock hard — standing proudly, deliciously curved. You subconsciously licked your lips and fluttered your eyes back at him.
Hannibal parted open your legs, sliding between them. Holding his cock, he guided it into you and your hands flew to grip his bare biceps, nails piercing.
As you felt him enter you, stretching you past your limits, you flinched. It didn't hurt nor did it bring you unbearable pain but you still needed time to get used to Hannibal’s size.
Hannibal cupped your face, large hands bringing you warmth.
“My beautiful Love. You will feel better soon as all I wish to do is bring you pleasure.” You nodded your head at his sugary words, releasing your grip around his biceps and moving your arms around his neck.
You pulled him closer, an action which gave him the order to fuck you and he did. Hannibal lifted your legs, placing each on each side of his hips before fully driving himself into your soaked cunt.
A whimper emitted from your throat when you felt him fully sink into you. Your gummy walls gripping around him like the tail of a snake around its prey — feeling every protruding vein.
Hannibal started to move, back and forth but slowly to make you feel each and every thrust. A whine of need and desperation echoed in the room, silencing the crackling of the fire.
“Tell me what you need, my love. Tell me what is it that you ache for?”
Your vision blurred. “You.”
That was all Hannibal needed to drill his cock into your tight pussy. Like some animal who'd finally caught its prey and with the intention to tear it apart limb by limb consumed it. Your body jerked forward from each harsh thrust, his balls slapping against the stripe of your cunt.
“Hannibal! Hann—ohmy.” Your moans grew, so did his pace. He fucked you with strong will and determination to draw a rippling orgasm out of you.
Hannibal’s hand wrapped around your throat in a purely possessive manner. To claim that you were his. He bruised your throat but not with the purpose to hurt you, rather taint you as his. Brand you forever.
A fucking collar embedded in your blood streams.
Both your hands held onto his wrist as he bruised your skin, all the while mounting you and chasing his own orgasm. Everytime he hit that spot of yours, tears fell and collapsed against the couch. His cock head driving itself ferociously into your cervix.
Hannibal felt his stomach taut, so did you.
Your thighs shivered, hips stuttering underneath his and Hannibal caught that. How could he not? He captured every little action of yours, every response your body gave to his. He was in love and his love was not the good kind.
“I feel it, Hannibal I-I feel it.” You cried out and he nodded, panting and groaning. All the sounds he made only worked to increase your sex drive — you craved him more, despite him being inside you. Your cunt clenched around him, gripping him and Hannibal nearly whined at how fucking good you felt.
Both of you were close and with one harsh thrust, Hannibal spilled his load inside you while you released all over him. His seed had tainted your walls. He didn't stop there.
He continued to thrust inside you, slow and sensual rolling of his hips inside your cunt.
Your eyes had fallen shut, disappearing into your skull. Seeing the same white Hannibal had painted your walls with.
“You're the prettiest, my pretty girl.” Hannibal whispered against your forehead, pressing a soft kiss to it. He soon pulled out and collapsed right next to you as you shuffled to give him space.
Laying on his chest, you were the happiest. Naked bodies entangled together for eternity and you had no idea just what you'd gotten yourself into. Raising your eyes at Hannibal’s face, you already found him looking at you with a smile.
His fingers trailed along your hair as he held you rightly in his arms. You released a sigh of content. “Hannibal, I-I think I'm in love with you.”
You sounded sure that you had fallen in love with your psychiatrist and as unprofessional as it was, you hoped that he too reciprocated these unbridled emotions. You had no idea just how happy you'd made him by uttering out those words.
He kissed the top of your head. “I have always been in love with you, my girl. You have no idea how much I tried to control these feelings I harbor for you.”
You shook your head. “You don't have to control them anymore, Hannibal.”
He didn't have to, not anymore. He had you right where he wanted you and everything had fallen right into place. Pushing you towards the edge was worth it — when the result was you, in his arms, it was all worth it.
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softieekayy · 10 months
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Intertwined
Hannibal Lecter x reader
Word count: 1.8k
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Hannibal Lecter was a stoic man with stoic impressions. He did his job, he left and he came home. Not many people knew much about him and the one who did, Will Graham, was a mystery of his own.
Having said that, there was one person who knew his entire soul, for their souls were entangled with each other. Hannibal’s wife. She knew him and his antics like the back of her hand. It was to be expected, especially since they’ve known eachother since Hannibal was a young man in medical school and her a young teenage girl with a crush on him. He never entertained it through, no, he always taught her things that she found useful later in life. It was fate who decided that they would spend the rest of their lives together.
Hannibal would do anything for his wife, she was his sun, moon and entire universe. He worshiped the floor she walked on. Not to mention that the young Mrs. Lecter was a beautiful woman with shiny hair and satin like skin. She was ethereal and people often thought she was an angel posing as one of their kind simply because of her beauty. Her beauty didn’t end physically, not at all. The young woman was a saint. She wouldn't hurt a fly, in fact, she would nourish it and then set it free.
“Why is he so hard to cut up!” (Y/n) whined to her husband, stomping down her expensively clad feet in a tantrum, blood seeping into her satin, champagne coloured shirt, staining the material. In one hand she held a butcher's knife with blood coating it, the body beneath her indicating the frustration she very obviously felt.
“Well, darling” Hannibal grunted, “cutting people with knives like this isn’t easy.”
“Yeah I see that now, my love.” She muttered back, reverting to her former position on her knees and hacking away at Mr. Zaine Lammer’s arm. A disgusting man he was, objectifying Hannibal’s wife to him. The dinner the couple held was for charity. Just because they killed people didn’t mean they were monsters. (Y/n) still loved and cared about children and would never harm them, they can be tuned and molded into anything you’d like. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for adults.
Hannibal looked over to his, completely entranced by the pure and utter annoyance on her face. She knew Hannibal killed, it wasn’t a secret to her. She’s helped with the crimes. However, (Y/n) preferred the killing and setting up the scene part, she did not like the hacking away at the body. No, she left that to her dear husband to do. Not that Hannibal minded. He’d prefer for her to not get touched by the blood of filth.
“Ugh. I give up. I can’t do this anymore.” The young woman stated, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Hannibal laughed at his wife’s reaction, making her glare at him.
“Don’t laugh at me Hans!” She told him, a small smile threatening to break out on her face. Hannibal looked at her, not saying anything but rather just observing. His wife was the most beautiful lady to have ever walked the earth. An angel that was put amongst sinners. He put down his knife and walked over to her, putting one arm around her waist and tugging her closer to his body, her hands resting on his chest.
“Hi.” She whispered softly with an equally soft smile gracing her face.
“Hello.” Hannibal whispered back, leaning down to steal a quick kiss from his wife.
He remembers meeting her like yesterday. She was a young little thing, younger than him, about 8-9 years or so. Yet when Hannibal saw her, she was the most beautiful person he’d ever set eyes on. The young woman had just been coming into the book store, soaked from the rain outside, hair sticking to her face and yet she still had a smile painted on her dark red lips. Hannibal watched her as she greeted the older man who ran the shop warmly before shedding her coat to let it hang. She turned around and caught Hannibal staring yet she gave him a smile too. Her quick movements reminded Hannibal of a cat, yet when he looked into her eyes for a brief moment, he saw his own reflection.
“I’ve never seen you around here.” She tells him, running her fingers across the spines of books before pulling one out. It was an old book with a forest green cover.
“I don’t live here, I’m just here to visit my aunt.” Hannibal didn’t tell her that Lady Murasaki was long dead and that he was just here to visit her grave. His aunt was a crucial part of his life, she shaped him into the man he is today.
The young woman nodded in acknowledgment, her hair moving along with it.
“Well it’s nice to meet you..” She trailed off, waiting for Hannibal to introduce himself.
“Hannibal lecter.” The older man introduced himself, shaking her hand gently. It was as soft as she looked. In return (Y/n) introduced herself. The two grabbed their books and spoke about everything and anything. Hannibal learned that she went to medical school here and frequented this bookstore often, hence her close relationship with the owner. Hannibal told her of Lady Murasaki and how he’s in charge of keeping her home. Before they knew it, time had passed and it was the dead of night, Hannibal walked her home and from there it took them to now. A married couple.
“We should really clean up.” (Y/n) grimaced, pulling away from Hannibal’s embrace to look at the mess on the floor. Hannibal agreed with her, the blood won’t come out easily if it’s been too long.
Hannibal pulled away from the embrace and went back to chopping up the man while his wife began to mix the solutions for cleaning.
Within another hour or so they were done. (Y/n) stood at the entrance of the basement with her hands over her hips, heaving lightly from all the scrubbing she did. Her once neatly done hair was now falling out of its place messily. Hannibal disposed of the meat in the freezer before walking back to his wife and kissing her on the side of her head, gently leading her upstairs with his hand on the small of her back.
“With all that leftover meat, we ought to have another dinner party. There’s only so much we alone can eat.” (Y/n) grumbled to Hannibal as they both reached the first floor of their home. She walked into the kitchen and took out two wine glasses before pouring her and Hannibal some.
“I agree.” Hannibal nodded. “We should invite Will, Jack Crawford and Alana Bloom for dinner these days.” He finished, taking a sip of his wine, watching his wife’s stare on him harden.
“You know I don’t like her yet you keep inviting her. Don’t be surprised if she ends up as our dinner one day.” (Y/n) warns him, anger seeping through her voice. The young brunette clearly had a crush on Hannibal, everyone around her could tell. Hannibal used that crush to manipulate her. His wife on the other hand, wasn't too fond of another woman making heart eyes at someone who belonged to her.
“You worry for no reason, even in death my heart will belong to you. Alana Bloom can’t match your intelligence or grace.” Hannibal comforted his wife, running his hand up and down her arm and she tucked herself closer into him. The younger woman hummed in response, taking Hannibal’s hand in her own and playing around with his fingers.
“I still don’t like her. That smug little face she makes towards me whenever you talk to her. All I can think about at that moment is how nice my hair pin would look coated in her blood.” (Y/n)‘s hand clutched tightly around Hannibal’s as she thought about Alana bloom. The brunette woman never failed to enrage Hannibal’s wife.
“She’s not worth you pretty little thoughts.” The older man told his wife, dragging his nose from the back of her neck to the side of her head, planting a living kiss. (Y/n) smiled slyly, turning her body to face him fully.
“You think me wanting to feel Alana’s blood on my hands is pretty?” She asked him, still smiling and toying with his hair. Hannibal latched his arm around her waist and pulled her atop him.
“I think everything you do is pretty.” He tells her and she hums. The two sit in silence for a while, sipping on their wine. No need for mindless chatter, being by each other's side was all that they needed. Hannibal knew that his wife would never betray him under any circumstances and she knew that Hannibal would never do anything to harm her. However they both knew that to drag attention away from one another, they may need to harm each other. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, it ripped Hannibal’s heart apart to even think about hurting his pretty little wife. His pretty wife with doe eyes. His pretty wife with a sinister smile. The two were a match in every sense possible, both hunters who enjoyed the art of killing. They were skilled and under Hannibal’s expertise and care, his young wife went from an amateur to someone just as talented as Hannibal.
“It's getting late, moonshine.” Hannibal uttered into her hair, nosing her hairline. She was wrapped around him, like a cat. Hannibal thought that if reincarnation was real then his wife must’ve been a cat in her past life.
“Yes, honey, I know. However there are no plans set in place for tomorrow.” She grinned, turning around and crawling onto him fully now. Hannibal held his wife by the waist, grinning.
“Are you suggesting we stay up late tonight Mrs. Lecter?” He asked her, caressing her hair. The two smiled like a lovesick teen age couple. So in love that it made others sick. Jack Crawford was one of them, he’d known the famous Mrs. Lecter since he’d met Hannibal.
“Yes I am. In fact, I’m suggesting that we go out for some ice cream.” She tells him, running a finger down the buttons of his shirt. Hannibal gasps in faux shock.
“Scandalous. You’re so very scandalous.” He tells her, shaking his head in disappointment. They both know it’s just an act anyway, Hannibal would bend over back wards for her. (Y/n) giggled before getting up and grabbing her coat. She waited for Hannibal to join her giddily, like a child who had far too much sugar.
“Shall we go?” Hannibal asked her, offering his arm for her to hold. (Y/n)’s hand softly tucked itself into the crook of Hannibal's arm as they headed out. Into the dark of the night, like wolves hunting for prey.
Tagging my lovelies: @jake-g-lockley @shawty-writes-a-little <3
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sob story ~ hannibal lecter;hannibal
word count: 2292
request?: no
description: in which he takes a liking to one of the new agents, and gets to learn her sad story
pairing: hannibal lecter x female!reader
warnings: swearing, the reader eats food made by hannibal...we all know what that means, mentions of cheating
masterlist (one, two, three)
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(Y/N) looked up from her paperwork as a plastic Tupperware container was placed in front of her. Hannibal stood over her, smiling down at her.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Leftovers from the meal I prepared last night,” he said. “Agent Crawford asked to see me today, so I thought I would drop by your desk to bring you something to eat.”
(Y/N) smiled at him. “You brought this just for me? I must be pretty special.”
But she already knew the answer to that. Hannibal had taken quite the liking to (Y/N) since he first met her only a few weeks ago. She had no idea what it was that drew him to her, and truthfully, neither did Hannibal. She was just a desk agent, not a field agent. She didn’t get to do any of the exciting or impressive stuff. She sat in the FBI offices and waited for paperwork to come in, or brought files to the higher ups, or went to boring meetings that felt like they went on for hours.
That’s how the two of them met, actually. Jack Crawford had asked for a file on a suspect they were looking into for a case. When (Y/N) brought it in to them, Hannibal found himself captivated by her. He introduced himself, taking note of the sweet scent of the perfume she was wearing. When they shook hands, he was almost reluctant to let her go, but he knew he had to let her get back to her job. But ever since that day, whenever Hannibal was at the FBI offices, he made sure he went to speak with (Y/N) even for just a few moments.
Hannibal pulled up a chair next to her desk as (Y/N) opened the plastic container.
“God, it smells so good,” she said. “You have to teach me how to cook sometime. I’m always hearing about your popular dinner parties.”
“I’ve never taught anyone my recipes before. I’m usually a solo cooker.”
“Fine then. Keep your secrets.”
Hannibal chuckled. (Y/N) took a forkful of the food. The minute it touched her tastebuds she couldn’t help the sound that came from her throat. Nearby agents at their own desks looked over at the two of them. (Y/N) covered her face in embarrassment. “I should’ve waited till my break.”
They fell into silence as (Y/N) continued to eat. Hannibal watched her as she would take a bite and continue to work on her paperwork as she chewed. She was wearing a new perfume. It had a more prominent vanilla scent instead of a fruity scent like her last one. She always looked beautiful, but Hannibal found she looked especially so when she was focused on her work. It was when she seemed to be at her most vulnerable, when she wasn’t putting on an act for those around her, that he found she was the most beautiful.
Her phone was placed face up on the desk next to her. It lit up as a message came in. (Y/N) looked over at her phone for a moment before making a face and flipping the phone so the screen was face down on her desk. She turned back to the paperwork in front of her, but Hannibal could tell she wasn’t actually focusing on it.
“Everything alright?” he asked.
It took (Y/N) a moment to realize Hannibal had spoken. She looked up at him and halfheartedly smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You sure? It seems like whatever message you just received wasn’t a good one.”
“Don’t therapist me, Lecter,” (Y/N) said, playfully, as she pointed her fork at him. “It was jut an old friend that I asked not to message me anymore, but they seem very persistent on going against what I want.”
“The friendship didn’t end well, I’d assume.”
(Y/N) shook her head but didn’t elaborate further. She stabbed at the food and pushed it around the container. Hannibal didn’t want to pry. It was his job to get people to tell him their problems, so he could’ve easily gotten (Y/N) to talk if he wanted to. But he decided not to, and that (Y/N) would tell him what was going on if she wanted to.
His ears perked up when she sighed and put the fork down again. “It’s a long story, and I don’t want to bother you with my sob story.”
Hannibal raised an eyebrow at her. “My job is listening to other people’s sob stories.”
She chuckled. “Fair point, but I’m not one of your clients.”
“You’re my friend, and it is to my understanding that friends talk to friends about things that are bothering them.”
(Y/N) nodded and sighed again. “Okay, well...the person who is messaging me stopped being my friend because my ex-boyfriend told her and all our other friends that I was crazy and a shitty girlfriend, so they all stopped being friends with me.”
Hannibal didn’t say anything. He gestured for her to continue, so she did.
“I was in a relationship for a long time,” she explained. “Like four or five years I think? It was a while ago so I don’t completely remember. Anyways, we were living together, we were so in love, we were talking about getting engaged and everything. And then, one night, he had left his phone open and I glanced down to see a text from another woman saying she was excited to see him, followed by a picture of her in lingerie.” She took a deep breath to try and stop the tears that were forming in her eyes from falling. “Turns out he had been cheating on me for months. Almost a year, actually.”
Hannibal’s hands clenched in his lap. Anger rose from deep inside of him. He was tempted to ask for her ex’s name so he could track the bastard down. How could someone have such a beautiful woman’s heart in his hand and completely crush it like that? He could’ve put a ring on her finger and gotten to call her his for the rest of their lives.
Maybe I shall invite her over for dinner soon, Hannibal thought to himself.
“How did that result in your friends no longer speaking to you?” he asked instead. “I’m not sure I see how he flipped this to be in his favor.”
(Y/N) laughed, humorlessly. “Never underestimate the power a man has over a woman he’s already hurt. Obviously, I was upset, so I acted kind of irrationally. I yelled, I cried, I screamed at him to leave the house, and when he refused, I started throwing his stuff out onto the front step. He told our friends I went through his phone and misinterpreted a message between him and ‘a coworker’. He told them I was crazy and went extra hysterical over nothing. I didn’t know until after, but he took a video of me throwing his stuff out, so he showed them that as proof. So, they all turned their backs on me.”
(Y/N) wiped her eyes quickly when she felt a tear run down her cheek. She let out a pitiful laugh and added, “And the icing on top is then he kicked me out. He put his name only on the lease, so there was no chance of fighting for the place. So, I was single, alone, and homeless in one fell swoop. He quite literally took everything from me.”
She looked down at her lap to try and hide her tears from anyone around them. There was no use pretending in front of Hannibal now. He had seen her break, but she didn’t want her coworkers to see it as well.
It had been many years since what happened with her ex. (Y/N) had gone through years of therapy to try and move on, and was still actively going when she had the time. There were days when she felt like she had moved on, and there were other days where all she could think about was the absolute heartbreak she felt when she saw those messages on her ex’s phone. She would sometimes see something that would remind her of their old friend group, and she’d remember how none of them spoke to her anymore. At first, she was sad about that, but after a while she got angry. She had tried to tell one of them, the one who was messaging her again now actually, that her ex cheated, but none of them would hear it. They just thought it proved even more that she was “the crazy ex-girlfriend”. She was angry that none of them would even listen to her, so it made it easier to get over them cutting her out.
Until a few days ago when that same ex-friend messaged (Y/N) asking if they could talk. When (Y/N) left the message on read, the friend tried again, explaining that her ex had finally come clean that he had cheated on (Y/N) after getting a little too drunk and someone asking him how he and his fiancée - the woman he cheated on (Y/N) with (that was a stab in the heart to read) - met. The friend begged for forgiveness and asked if they could talk, but (Y/N) told her that she didn’t want to be friends with any of them and not to contact her ever again.
It brought up so many old wounds - ones that were both partially and entirely healed. (Y/N) felt like she was back to those days of being a sad, young adult who was kicked out of her home, her relationship, and her friendships, all because of the actions of a dickhead like her ex. She had been trying to mask her upset while at work, but some days it was tougher than others.
But seeing Hannibal made it easier to forget.
She had really hoped that his surprise visit would bring her out of her mood. It almost had, if it wasn’t for that ex-friend messaging her yet again to try and beg for forgiveness.
(Y/N) jumped when Hannibal reached out for her hand. He took it in his and held it tightly. When she looked up, she realized how close he was leaning towards her.
“You should not let a man like that ruin you,” he told her. “You are a bright, beautiful woman, with a great job and I am assuming a fantastic family and new friends. He lost something great when he chose that other woman over you, and one of these days he will pay for making that decision.”
(Y/N) tried to smile. “I didn’t think someone like you would believe in karma.”
Not unless I’m the one inflicting it. “I can on occasions.”
She looked down at their connected hands. His was so much bigger than hers, so much cooler against her clammy skin. She suddenly felt self-conscious about the fact that her palm was so sweaty. She hoped he couldn’t feel it against his own palm.
“It’s not easy to just let go of a five year relationship that ends so suddenly like that,” she said, her voice small. “I haven’t dated anyone since because it’s just too hard to trust.”
“You must take things at your own pace,” Hannibal told her. “You can’t rush yourself into a new relationship if you’re not ready. There is nothing wrong with taking care of yourself first.”
When she looked up at him again, (Y/N) felt compelled to close the distance between herself and Hannibal. She wanted to kiss him more than anything. She wanted to feel more of him against her - his lips against hers, his hands on her body, his body against hers. She wanted to feel it all. But obviously, that would be a very inappropriate thing to happen in the workplace. Not to mention she wasn’t sure if Hannibal would really reciprocate to any of the things she wanted.
“Thank you,” she said, finally.
“It’s just the therapist in me.”
When she laughed this time, it was real. His heart fluttered at the sound. “I know, but it still means a lot. The fact that you come see me so often, that you brought me food today. It all means a lot to me. More than I think you could ever know.”
She didn’t want to let go of his hand, but she knew she couldn’t sit there like that all day. She was already well aware of how everyone was looking at them. She was sure she’d be mentioned at the coffee machine gossip session the next morning. So, (Y/N) reluctantly took her hand from Hannibal’s and reached for her pen instead.
“I really should try to finish this before Jack comes looking for it,” she said.
“Do you mind if I stay?” Hannibal asked.
“You don’t have anything else going on today?”
“Not until you’re finished.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “What are we doing when I finish my work?”
“I’m going to teach you how to cook.”
Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. Hannibal couldn’t help but smile back at her.
And so they did sit like that for the rest of the day; (Y/N) working and eating while Hannibal just kept her company. The conversation had died down a bit so she could actually work, but that only aided her in finishing her paperwork early and being allowed to clock out an hour earlier, too. She happily pulled on her coat and followed Hannibal to the elevator, where he reached out and took her hand again as the doors closed.
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lostgirlfandom · 2 years
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Dad's Got Your Back
Pairing: Father!Hannibal x GN!Teen!Reader
Warnings: mentions of violence
Words: 594
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Your dad was going to be so mad when you got home.  
The fact that your clothes were torn in places and your face was bruised over your right eye and cheek. A split lip and a small scrap at your hairline had a bead of blood that was dried on your forehead. There were also bruises lining your right jawline and scraps on your elbows from when you fell.  
You hated the kids at school. Especially the ones that didn’t like how quiet you were and barely showed emotion... very much like your father. And so, some of the other students thought that was weird. And some students can be cruel.  
Your father was also more than likely going to retaliate with your help if he asked for it. Just like your father, your anger was quiet and came when they least expected it. Very unpredictable.  
-
Getting off the bus at the drop off corner, you walked down the street to the house with your bag on your shoulder. One of your arms was across your stomach as it twinge with pain every time you moved a certain way.  
Walking the block and a half to the house, you sighed as you realized that your dad was going to be pissed. Your head was down as you took your key out and unlocked the door and walked in.  
You kept your head down as you took your shoes off and put your bag down on the hallway hook for your bag. You started to head towards the stairs but you were cut off by your father in the kitchen entrance way with a towel in his hands, cleaning them.  
You didn’t greet him like you usually do... which made him suspicious.  
“Y/N...” his tone of voice made you freeze with your foot on the first step of the stairs.  
“Hi, dad.” You spoke softly as you took your foot off the step and turned halfway to him. Your head was tilted down.  
You heard his footsteps as he walked to stand next to you. Without saying anything, he took your chin and tilted it back up and towards him. “Never lower your head to anyone.” He told you as he examined your face. You looked into his eyes for a brief moment before looking at his forehead, never fully able to look into his eyes for very long.  
But you did notice his eyes turning hard and cold as he took in the damage.  
You sighed as he chucked your chin. “Bathroom. I’ll have to clean it. And while I’m doing that, you’ll tell me all about what happened.” He told you as he turned your body to head to the dining room, putting his hand on your shoulders to sit you down before going to get the first aid kit.  
Sighing, you stared at the wall.  
-
He came back with the kit and set about cleaning you up. He stayed silent, knowing you will eventually talk about it.  
Which you did.  
And his mask slowly got harder and colder as you explained the other teens at school not liking the fact on how well behaved or stoic you were.
As he finished cleaning you up, he sighed and nodded. “I believe it’s time to stock up again, Y/N.” he smirked and chucked your chin again. “You’ll help me, won’t you.”  
You gave tight grin and nodded.  
He leaned forward and kissed your forehead, at your hairline where the injury was. Your eyes closed and you smirked internally.  
Like father, like child.  
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shegatsby · 6 months
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Ngl I've been thinking about this for awhile, imagine Hannibal Lecter with a Burlesque dancer like in the movie from 2010 with Cher and Christina Aguilera, reader as Ali/Christina would be really cool
A/N; Hi! Thank you for this request, i love that movie so much i sometimes listen to its songs. I had fun writing this. Happy Ramadan!
Words; 1.413K
Warnings; None.
‘’Hey! Y/N!’’ you heard a voice from the director of the show, ‘’It’s your turn now!’’ you looked at your reflection on the mirror for the last time, hair done, nails done, a nice lingerie that had rime stones on it… you were young and sexy and that was enough for your confidence. You’re good at climbing into a huge champagne glass which is filled with water and soup and big sponges and do your number. Years ago when you were a child you grew up watching burlesque dancer and the numbers they did on stage and climbing into a tall glass always entertained you, it was a classic. You were the only one who could do it right in your group, the stage was set, you had two dancers either side of the glass, dancing to the rhythm. When you walked to the stage the spot light found you and your audience started screaming for you, getting good reviews was a part of your every night. You loved the attention, slowly getting rid of your gloves you noticed someone. You knew your regular customers and this man was on the same spot, which was the VIP section, alone, drinking his champagne and admiring you from afar. He never flinched ever and you could tell that he liked dressing up and keeping everything pristine. Most of your regulars loved to send you gifts, mostly flowers, perfumes etc. However, this one never sent you anything, you started to get curious about him and asked your crew, they only knew that he was a psychiatrist and that’s it.
You moved on the stage like delicate swan, so elegant and all of the eyes were on you. As you danced to the rhythm and slowly undressed you felt his burning gaze, you knew that after the show you were going to get lots of presents except from him.
He never made a move. Most of the regular spectators loved to send you drinks and presents after the show but this particular gentleman only occupied his seat at the VIP section every week, drank his champagne, ate his luxurious dish and watched you from afar. ,
Human mind is tricky, the brain loves to focus on that one person who doesn’t have his focus on us.
Nonetheless you were intrigued by him.
Thanks to the help of the dancers on the stage you climbed into the champagne glass, your rime stoned lingerie shining under the spot light. The water was cold just how you liked it. Moving around in the glass, splashing water has always made your audience smile and left them satisfied. Maybe because of the fact that your lingerie was soaked and your damp body shimmered under the lights…
When you were done you were escorted back, it felt so cold so you wore your pink robe, people you work with congratulated you, and you kindly smiled. Before you could open your dressing room’s door and throw yourself on your pink fluffy couch your boss, an old lady with long silver hair and kind blue eyes stopped you, ‘’A gentleman is inside, he has an offer for you.’’ You were puzzled. ‘’Thank you for the heads up.’’ Before you walked in you checked your hair and make-up, and then you walked in.
He was sitting on the pink couch, when you entered and as soon as he saw you he bolted to his feat. ‘’Miss Y/L/N.’’ he addressed you and you smiled. He had a dark grey 3 piece suit which fit him perfectly, he looked odd in this room of pink. He extended his large hand and continued, ‘’It is a pleasure finally meeting you in person.’’ You held his hand and you felt a sudden rush to your  stomach. Why did he have such an impact on you? You noticed the way he emphasized the word ‘’finally’’ he was also aware of you noticing him for weeks. ‘’Please.’’ You gestured him to sit back, you sat across him. The sudden realization hit you, you had your soaking wet lingerie underneath your pink robe. His face didn’t give any clues whatsoever. ‘’Allow me to introduce myself, I am Doctor Hannibal Lecter.’’ You nodded gently, legs crossed. Melodies from the stage floating into the room, in that brief silence you wondered why did your boss allow him inside? It usually never happens.
He must have persuaded the old lady with something… most likely money.
‘’Y/N Y/L/N. At your service.’’ You replied with a soldier tone to break the ice and caught him smirking a bit. His maroon eyes looked into your eyes directly, you felt shiver running down your spine, he was intense. His gaze found the pile of presents resting on the table at the corner of the room, was that annoyance written on his sharp face?
‘’May I ask the reason why you are here Doctor Lecter?’’ you attracted his gaze again, you could feel your palms getting sweaty, his presence made you nervous and you didn’t even know this person.
‘’I would love to hire your service for one of my dinner parties.’’ He bluntly said, he seemed like a guys who would go and get something, a true dominant man. Also the way he used ‘’your service’’ didn’t go unnoticed, he was respectful. His hand went inside his jacket’s pocket to pull out a check book, he wrote something and ripped the page, you were excited when he handed it to you.
When you saw the price you were shocked.
‘’But this is too much-‘’ you said with wide eyes, holding the check as if it is something fragile, ‘’Burlesque is an art and I’m never shy spending money on art.’’ He replied, you could sense the strong undertones. ‘’When is the party?’’
You accepted his offer, this was the first time you went to do a number to someone’s home. He mentioned that his home was enough to bring your essentials. For a week you practiced and practiced. You felt like you needed to make him proud, even though he paid you and this was your job you just wanted to be perfect at it and have a good time.
He didn’t lie, his home was like a castle, more than enough for your show. You were ready and also small group of your dancers were ready too, everything was set.
Dancing so close to the audience didn’t make you nervous at all, you felt alive, the music felt like it was running through your veins, you were one with it. You could feel the public’s eyes were on you in an awe of your art, the energy was immaculate. You could also see the host of the party, Doctor Lecter, holding his drink in one hand, the other in his pocket, his maroon gaze focused on you and only you. Almost predatory.
The champagne glass act made the audience sigh in excitement, it seemed like this was the first time they experience this and it feed your soul.
After the show you went upstairs to change because Doctor Lecter wanted to introduce you to his guests. You were touching on your make up when someone knocked on your door.
‘’Come in.’’
It was Lecter himself. ‘’You are a vision.’’ He said leaning on the door, you smiled. ‘’I have a gift for you.’’ He walked towards you, ‘’You didn’t have to Doctor Lecter.’’ You said when he opened the velvet box he was holding, a golden necklace was in that box, 24 karat you assumed. ‘’Please,’’ he said, ‘’Hannibal.’’
‘’Hannibal you already paid more than the actual price and this…’’ you were blushing, ‘’I’ve wanted to give you this for so long,’’ he confessed, ‘’but I was waiting for the right time.’’ You watched him place the necklace on you through the mirror, both of his hands found their place on your shoulders, he knelt and he planted a soft kiss on your cheek, he turned to the mirror to see your face and lock eyes.
‘’Looks good on you.’’ He said, you touched the necklace, ‘’Thank you, you are so generous.’’ His aura was heavy, his manly cologne filled your nostrils. You were intoxicated, it was wrong, he was your employer. ‘’I hope we will be more close from this night on.’’
You could feel your heart racing, was this a some kind of proposal? Only time would tell. Hand in hand you left the room to mingle.
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tethered-heartstrings · 6 months
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reposting content (especially art/creations) that isn't yours is theft. reposting content saying "not mine" without credit is still theft. saving content that isn't yours to your phone or computer or copy/pasting and making a post without credit is fucking theft. it isn't accidental. there were intentional steps involved. why is this difficult to comprehend. imagine how it would feel to have something you made (especially for free, often in the case of fandom) stolen and someone else taking credit for it or at the very least not giving you the credit you deserve for having made it in the first place
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z-bedisha · 4 months
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will graham painting!
ft. a rare moment of peace (rip the deleted scene 💔)
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honeygrahambitch · 7 months
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Hannibal's outfits in the first episode....are.... horrendous. I will never move past it
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chronicroderick · 8 months
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Old Games
Hannibal has been manipulative because he's bored and provokes Will into taking matters into his own hands.
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Shameless Smut, Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham, Consensual Violence, Blood Kink, Knife Kink, Scarification, Canon Typical Toxicity, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Wound Fingering, Post-Fall
Old Games on Ao3
-----
Will was beating the shit out of him, and God, was Hannibal rock hard. This was no fantasy, though there had been many times when it was. This was real, flesh on flesh, knuckles digging into his cheek bones, causing his teeth to clack with each blow. How strong Will was. How resilient those hands were. That was the only thing going through his mind as he tasted his own blood in his mouth.
Hannibal had been more shrewd than usual lately. Picking at Will, second guessing him, even when it was not necessary. Was he sure that he could pick the freshest vegetables from the grocery store? Did he turn the water off completely after washing his face before bed? Was every one of his little mongrel dogs accounted for or did he leave one outside? Will had never forgotten one of his pets, but there was ‘a first time for everything’. Besides his contrariness, the two men had lived the closest thing to domestic bliss that either one of them had ever experienced, even before the fall.
Here they were, off the coast of some Greek island – Will wanted to settle somewhere that was new to the both of them – in a home built from the ground up. It was adobe, white to match the local buildings, set a great distance from any other living soul on a modest cut of land. They had a fenced in garden, expansive, and they had dogs. They would occasionally take day trips to the large islands and scout for new sources of meat. Will went fishing almost every morning and Hannibal would join him, sitting on the shore, reading a book, every now and then glancing up from his page to gaze at his lover who floated far away on his canoe. They should be happy. He didn’t feel happy. He felt bored.
So here he was, flat on his back, Will sitting on his stomach, while those strong fisherman’s hands smashed his face to a bloody pulp. The flames of pain caressed him, cut through him, searing in the cut on his eyebrow now, down into his skull and his brain. A tightness twisting low in his gut. What had he said? Oh, yes.
“Where else would I go?” Will had piped up while Hannibal was chopping carrots.
“What was that, my love?”
“Don’t ‘my love’, me, Hannibal.”
He was only Hannibal when he had done something wrong.
“You think I’m afraid you wish to be somewhere else. You betrayed the FBI for me, Will. We have killed together. We ran away together. As far as I am concerned we are an inseparable pair and I do not understand why you are so paranoid about these things.”
Will stood from where he leaned against the island in the middle of the room and walked up next to him, one hip against the counter and arms crossed over his chest. Hannibal stilled his hands and looked at Will with a warm smile that he knew would infuriate him.
Will frowned, “If you keep playing the fool I’m going to lose my temper.”
A thrill ran down Hannibal’s spine at the threat. At a degree in which he had not felt in a very long time.
“What part do you wish me to play then?” He tilted his head, smile still on his face, fingers curling ever so slightly tighter around the chef’s knife.
Will narrowed his eyes, purposefully keeping them off of the weapon, those ocean blue rings raging darkly behind his glasses. He was so beautiful when he was angry. So stimulating.
“You’ve been toying lately. Undermining me. Eroding.”
This was dangerous territory. Before Hannibal had started picking at Will’s scabs, they had had many heartfelt conversations, one of which included the brunette expressing his fear that his thoughts and actions were not his own, even after all this time. He had soothed him then. He did not feel like soothing him now.
“You speak of me like some spurned housewife.”
“You don’t deny it.” There was an edge to Will’s voice.
“What reason would I have to do such a thing? We are long past the game of cat and mouse,” He turned away, chopping the rest of the carrot, with a dismissive tone, “really, you’re quite the by product of your post traumatic stress, you should quit—”
“Don’t.” Will interpreted, and Hannibal could almost hear his knuckles creak as he formed a fist.
He smiled to himself, knowing full well how it would be interpreted, “Being so paranoid, my love.”
To say the blow came out of nowhere would be a lie, but he had underestimated the hatred behind it, fueling its power, as it caught him across the side of the face. It gave him a headache immediately, Hannibal instinctually switching his grip on the knife, blade pointed down, but Will knew him well. He could feel the calluses against his forearm as his wrist was smashed into the stone countertop with enough force to send shooting nerve pain up his arm, the knife falling from his hand.
Hannibal growled, half anger at being surprised and half pleasure, his other hand coming up to grab Will by the throat, fingers digging into the sides of his neck and pushing the man backwards until his back slammed against the refrigerator. Will’s left hand still held Hannibal’s arm, but his right arm came up, elbow crashing down on Hannibal’s arm, breaking his grip on the other man’s throat. He was feral, unpredictable and blind to the admiration in Hannibal’s gaze as he threw all of his weight into his shoulder and lunged like a football player, tackling Hannibal to the ground.
His head hit the wood floor with a hard knock, dazing him slightly, but his lover did not let the moment go to waste. He felt the weight of Will on his stomach, knees pinning down his out flung arms as they painfully crushed his elbows. His nose crunched with the second punch that was thrown his way, the third surely would have broken it as well, were it not already broken. Will was saying something, something hard to make out over the sound of the blood rushing in Hannibal’s ears and the ringing of his head injury.
“... paranoid. After all those years of manipulating me. Here I am. Here I am.”
Planting his feet, he attempted to buck Will off him, giving himself a chance to roll over, but the moment his weight shifted, he got a swift blow to the eye socket. It was mean enough to cut his eyebrow open, blood pooling at the corner of his eye like a great well of tears, and sloppy enough that it could have caused serious optic damage. The severity of the situation dawned on him. His cock twitched.
“Will –”
There was no reply, only another blow to the face. They rained down on him now, one after the other. He did not fight, did not even struggle. He took in a ragged breath, smothered with arousal, determined to take in every detail of this moment with all five senses. All of Will’s pain and rage washed over him. He could feel the way his skin tore apart, ragged, under the force of Will’s hands. It was delicious to know that he was the cause of such strong emotions. He could hear Will’s heavy breathing, hitching slightly when he exerted himself. It was him, Hannibal, that had so much influence in Will’s life. No one else. He smiled, his lip split in two places, and it felt like being cut with a razor blade as the skin stretched over his teeth. His brown eyes twinkled up at Will, taking in the sight of his bloody knuckles, unsure if it was just his blood. Hoping it was both of theirs. The idea blew his pupils wide. Will’s features darkened and he grabbed Hannibal by the collar of his shirt, before bashing his head into the floor over and over.
“I gave up everything for you! You don’t get to play games anymore.”
He was disappointed that Will had not positioned himself on his lap, for his cock stood at full attention, the inside of his boxers damp with a spot of precum. How ruthless his lover was. Hannibal wished to grind himself against him, while those well trained hands gripped him by the hair, guiding his lucid head to look up. There was a constant throbbing in the back of his skull, his hair plastered to his head with a thick, wet warmth. The kitchen stank of blood, or maybe it was just everything that was pouring out of his nose. When he saw Will’s hard features searching his face, he was filled with a sense of certainty that this was what their victims saw before death overtook them, and need cut through him. Will’s eyes narrowed, which was no surprise, he could read Hannibal like no other.
“You’re hard right now.” He stated disapprovingly.
“I am.” Hannibal replied, blood staining his teeth pink as he smiled.
“You’re not mad at me,” Will blinked once.
“I am not.”
When Will only silently leaned back, removing the weight of his knees from Hannibal’s elbows, he was afraid their altercation would yield no sexual satisfaction.
“Mylimasis,” He whispered, flecks of his blood spraying across Will’s face as he spoke, “do you not find the spark of our old games as exciting as I do?”
Will scoffed, but the corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk, “You goaded me because you miss getting off to our rivalry?”
“I miss when you were not a domestic animal, Will Graham.”
He could not hide the truth of his words, dismay hitting him like a freight train as he saw the way they made Will’s face twist. As he opened his mouth to explain himself, a hand closed over it, smelling strongly of sweat and blood.
“Not a word.” Will said monotonically.
When he was sure Hannibal would not speak, he removed it, and scooted his hips backwards until he sat right on top of Hannibal’s clothed dick. This made him sigh, the pressure bringing relief, but in return Will slapped him hard enough to turn his cheek red. He gave Will a surprised look and the other man only frowned.
“No sounds either.”
They could both feel the way Hannibal’s cock twitched against Will’s ass. He nodded, just barely, maintaining searing eye contact with Will who was cold as ice. Will began moving his hips back and forth, grinding down on Hannibal who bucked his hips up against him eagerly. He needed to feel more, so much more. His nose ached, the pain pulsing out into the rest of his face as his heartbeat quickened. Will’s hard on was evident, the outline of it visible against his pants, Hannibal eyed it hungrily. His tongue dashed out, wetting his lips, playing over the cuts on them, as he watched Will’s body move above his. He looked glorious, all dark curls and severe jawline, his skin coral and cream as he palmed himself over his clothes. His blue eyes caught sight of the ministrations of Hannibal’s tongue and he leaned down, their dicks rubbing together as he licked one of the cut’s on Hannibal’s lips. The sensation made Hannibal’s hole clench, his eyes fluttered shut as Will lapped up the blood from the second cut. He hissed when he felt Will’s teeth sink into his lip, fresh blood flooding his mouth from the open wound, and because he made a noise Will bit harder, creating puncture wounds and ripping it open more. Will ground his cock against Hannibal, relentlessly dry humping as he kissed him. All Hannibal could taste was his own blood, it was electric, swirling around his mouth on the vessel of Will’s tongue. Will’s lips tasted metallic, soft yet unyielding, Hannibal licked at the back of his teeth, rubbing his tongue over the other man’s with a clear desperation. Will pulled back, got off of his lap, then undid his belt.
Hannibal followed suit, shoving his pants down without a word, his cock springing free. Will didn’t look at him, he only tugged his own pants and underwear off over his shoes, and flung them to the side. Hannibal felt like his excitement was visible to the naked eye, the way the scent of his blood flooded his senses, his skull pounding in time with the rushing in his veins, the thick swallow he had to take every couple seconds, it all stoked his desire, the object of which now crouched over him, hovering just above his aching cock. He looked down at himself, saw how stiff his dick was, flushed pink, thick and sure to spread Will open like many times before. He almost whined like a dog when his lover gently lowered himself, his hole squeezing his tip over and over, precum slicking the entrance. Then the sensation was gone, Will was standing over him now, looking down with that cutting gaze.
“Will?” Hannibal protested the lack of contact.
Shaking his head, Will’s hand wandered the counter, in search of something out of Hannibal’s line of sight.
“You want the delight of carnage. I'll oblige.”
The blade of a knife glinted in the sunlight that came through the window as Will inspected it, surely for Hannibal’s benefit. It was lean, one they often used to filet seafood. His cock jerked and he wiggled his loosened front tooth with his tongue.
“It seems you almost knocked my tooth out, my love.” He tried to hide the elation in his voice as he once again spoke out of turn.
Will fell to his knees, straddling Hannibal once again, their bare dicks rubbing together as he worked the tip of the knife into the small crevice of tender flesh between his collarbone and his shoulder. Hannibal closed his eyes, clenching his teeth in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He tried not to think about the hole that was cut in his shirt. Will twisted the knife as if he was lazily trying to start a fire, tearing more fabric and skin. It made his head spin. When he did not respond, Will pushed slightly harder, until a half inch of stainless steel was inside him. He could feel the warmth of his blood welling up around the tip. Felt the warmth of it pooling into his clothes.
“You could cause serious nerve damage if you're unfamiliar with what you're attempting.” Hannibal chimed clinically.
“Enjoying being a brat, are we?” Will purred, gently pulling the blade towards him, cutting Hannibal at such a slow pace it was ripping more than slicing.
The blue eyed man hummed happily as Hannibal bucked his hips, their cocks sliding over one another, his precum wetting his own happy trail. Will moved on, tracing the knife lightly over Hannibal’s chest, poking and prodding every now and then until he settled just below his belly button. Hannibal watched the entire time, never taking his eyes off those brilliant hands as Will gripped the hem of his shirt and cut it in one long go right up the middle, as if he was being gutted. The fabric fell open, revealing his chest and stomach that already had a few red marks, and Will pushed it out of the way, ghosting his fingers through Hannibal’s chest hair. He rubbed his hips teasingly, cock brushing back and forth against Hannibal’s, resting all his weight on the hand in the center of the older man’s chest. Holding him down. Hannibal could feel his heartbeat thumping against Will’s palm. With the knife in the crook of the L of his thumb and forefinger, directly over Hannibal’s heart, Will applied pressure, the sharp bite of which bloomed outwards.
“Put it in.” It wasn't a demand or a question, it was like Will was observing the weather or their horoscopes.
He was more than happy to obey, grabbing hold of himself, resisting the urge to pump his cock, and lined it up with Will’s hole. Not a moment after his tip brushed the man’s ass did his lover sit himself onto it, slowly taking his cock, never taking his eyes off Hannibal’s face nor the knife off his chest. Instead, the more length he took, the deeper he drove the blade into Hannibal’s sternum. It was overwhelming.
“Penetrating me as I penetrate you?” He quipped. This was all part of it. Will knew he could never resist a chance to prove he would be willing to take things further than Will would.
In response Will cut into him. It wasn't hesitant or jerky, it was almost surgical. Deep enough for blood to spill immediately, but shallow enough that Hannibal was not afraid for his life. It hurt, it made him tense involuntarily as the knife made its way down his chest, leaving a burning crimson trail behind. All while his cock was slowly buried to the hilt inside the other man. He groaned, not trying to be a smartass, as Will began moving up and down, but was punished for his transgression anyways when the knife sunk deeper. The scarring would be unavoidable at this point. Hannibal ground his teeth together to keep from speaking, grabbed Will by the hips and helped him ride faster. His dick was being squeezed so tight, pumping in and out of Will’s hole as he watched the brunette’s cock bounce with every thrust. He pounded up into Will, hips snapping against the bottom of his ass. His passion made the work of the knife unsteady, dipping deeper and shallower with no design at all, the line Will was creating winding ever so slightly like a river down to just above his belly button. Hannibal could feel drops of blood cascading down his belly towards his ribs. Will moaned above him, clenching down on his dick, then ran two shaky fingers up the wound he had just inflicted, never slowing down, Hannibal violent in his thrusts that made every curl on Will’s head bob.
Will brought the two fingers up to his pink lips, dark pupils trained on Hannibal’s face as Will sucked on his middle and index finger. He pulled them out clean, except for the faint ring of red that was like lipstick around the second knuckles. Hannibal’s eyes narrowed with lust and he grabbed the hilt of the knife in Will’s hand, at first the other man resisted letting go, but when he slowed down in his thrusts, emphasizing his sincerity, Will relented. Hannibal took the weapon slowly out of his lover’s hand, Will was doing all the work with his hips now, and the salt and pepper haired man turned the blade on himself, tip pressed firmly to his stomach. With a small smile and a slow blink, jittery from the heat engulfing his dick, he stuck the end in his abdomen, somewhere he knew wouldn't be vital if he had gone deep enough for that to even matter. It made him gasp and he was so close to the edge now, but he wasn't finished. Hannibal dropped the knife, grabbed Will's hand firmly, splayed out his fingers, then pushed one of them greedily inside the wound. It made him shudder, meeting the pace of Will’s hips now, feeling the tip of his finger inside the cut sent stripes of ecstasy straight to his dick. Pumping himself in and out of Will, while Will pushed his finger deeper into his skin, Hannibal stroked the man’s cock, admiring the slight bend in it and the feeling of precum slicking the inside of his hand. Both of them were covered in a sheen of sweat and blood on the kitchen floor. He felt like an animal. He felt alive.
“This is what you wanted?” Will asked, words punctuated by small gasps.
Hannibal nodded, racing to the end, all fervor and fire. Slamming up into his Will. His Will. He would bleed only for this man. He would hold all of his beloved 's rage. He was made to bear any pain his lover put his way. Hannibal’s thoughts were becoming less linear. Will was panting, surely his legs burned, his dick twitching in Hannibal’s uncoordinated grasp, until finally he came. Seed shot onto Hannibal’s chest, mingling with his blood. The feeling made Hannibal climax too, unloading inside Will with a stifled moan. He couldn't take it. He sat up without thinking, grabbed Will behind the shoulders and sank his teeth into the crook of his neck. Will cried out, but didn't push him away. He bit deeper, Will’s hole milking his cock of every last drop of cum, his wounds throbbing and burning and flooding his body, his lover’s cum making a warm, slow trail down his stomach into the deep cuts. He might need stitches. Biting deeper. Will would be bruised. They'd have to set his nose. He did not break the brunette's delicate skin.
They sat like that on the floor, Hannibal’s teeth in his neck, Will’s trembling thighs straddling his waist. Hannibal pulled back, still ensnaring Will in his grasp and looked into his eyes. They seemed bright, normal, better than the storm he had cultivated for the last few weeks. He kissed his nose and brought him into a hug. Will sighed and rested his head on Hannibal’s shoulder. Their breathing slowed. Their heartbeats turned to normal, almost in sync. It would be enough. It already was.
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I am so incredibly upset because I couldn't find the gif of fantasy Hannibal smiling on the ground as Will beats him :'( EDIT: I FOUND IT YAHOO
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𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝕺𝖇𝖘𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓
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𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠
Hannibal Lector, the enigmatic forensic psychiatrist and notorious serial killer, harbored a secret obsession that burned with an intensity that chilled to the bone. His unwavering gaze, piercing maroon eyes, and lips curved in a sinister smile, betrayed his fascination with a specific individual: the enigmatic [Y/N].
Their paths had crossed at a psychiatric hospital, where Hannibal cunningly studied [Y/N's] vulnerability and frailties. Intrigued by her resilience and the shadows that lingered in her eyes, he became ensnared, consumed by a desire to possess her.
Hannibal's love was not pure or selfless. It was an obsessive infatuation, a twisted desire to claim [Y/N] for his own, regardless of her feelings. His every thought and action was driven by his fixation on her.
As [Y/N's] life became entwined with Hannibal's, she sensed an unsettling presence lurking in the shadows. Unnoticed glances, mysteriously opened doors, and the eerie silence that enveloped her sent shivers down her spine.
One fateful night, as [Y/N] returned home from work, she found a note on her doorstep scrawled in Hannibal's elegant handwriting. A chilling invitation to dinner, promising an unforgettable evening filled with tantalizing culinary delights and intellectual discussions.
Unable to resist the allure of Hannibal's charismatic nature, [Y/N] accepted. As the clock struck seven, she found herself seated at Hannibal's lavish dining table, unaware of the fate that awaited her.
With each course, Hannibal's obsession became more apparent. His intense gaze never left [Y/N's] face, as if he could devour her with his eyes. The pleasantries he whispered turned into possessive declarations, and the air grew heavy with his desperation.
As the evening reached its climax, Hannibal's mask of civility shattered. He revealed his true intentions, confessing his unyielding love for [Y/N] and his willingness to eliminate any obstacles that stood in his way.
Terror flooded [Y/N's] veins as she realized the true nature of Hannibal's obsession. She fled his mansion, desperate to escape the suffocating grasp of a madman.
Hannibal pursued her relentlessly, his possessiveness fueled by rejection. Anyone who dared to approach [Y/N] faced the wrath of his deadly cunning. Friends, family, and even potential lovers vanished without a trace, leaving [Y/N] utterly isolated and vulnerable.
As Hannibal's obsession grew, so did his methods. He manipulated events to isolate [Y/N] from society, ensuring that she had nowhere to turn. Fear gnawed at her mind, as she became trapped in a twisted game of cat and mouse.
Time seemed to lose all meaning as the hunt intensified. [Y/N] clung to hope, desperately seeking a way to escape Hannibal's clutches. But the more she resisted, the more determined he became to claim her as his own.
In the end, a bloody confrontation ensued, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. Hannibal's obsession had consumed him, driving him to the brink of madness and beyond. And as [Y/N] emerged from the darkness, forever scarred by Hannibal's twisted love, she learned a chilling truth: the human heart is capable of harboring the most sinister of desires.
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dolicekiss · 3 months
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Bittersweet Belladona
PAIRING: Dark!Will Graham x Yandere!Reader x Dark!Hanninal Lecter
CONTENT WARNING: SMUT (18+ only, mdni) very dark Will Graham. age gap (reader is twenty two) mention of mental instability, unhinged behavior by all parties, dubcon, stalking, slight blood, choking, hair pulling, manhandling (reader gets her shit clapped) degradation and praise, mention of cannibalism, scratching, slight fluff at the end.
SYNOPSIS: Following along the bloody trail left behind renowned Psychiatrist Dr. Lecter and his kin, Will Graham, your sick obsession had made you somewhat better than the FBI at tracking down the two. In the shadows, you lingered and stalked them both like a new born shadow, oblivious to the fact that you were also captured in their sight. Your twisted infatuation with the two had you cornered soon enough, trapped in an empty museum with them.
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You were lured in.
You should've known.
Just why would they commit a crime in the open museum if not to lure you in and trap you?
The two men circled you around like you were their prey, like the man they had killed and formed into a firefly with its wings spread out, hanging in the air. Wings that were made out of the man's skin — red flesh exposed. The sight was spectacular and you wanted nothing more than to click photos of it, capture it in the deepest darkest parts of your mind and savor it forever.
You stared at it in pure awe, not registering the fact that you were trapped.
“Beautiful, isn't it?”
It was Will’s deep voice.
Strained and dry, it made you feel something dark inside your chest. You flinched at his voice, retreating a step back but all you felt against your back was Hannibal’s hard chest, as you crashed into him. His tall figure towered over you and you moved forward, in an attempt to get away from him.
“Beautiful like her.” Hannibal spoke, voice cutting the silence like butter. “But too bad she lacks manners, don't you think?”
All you wanted to do was stalk them, learn more about how their minds worked and get to know them. You had never found their acts of violence disgusting, no. It was simply human, their flaws and the gruesome darkness concealed behind their beautiful faces. It was all too fascinating for you but you knew all too well what the two men were capable of.
The proof was levitating right up in the air.
“Following us around, stalking us. Even going as far as to hacking our phones to eavesdrop on our conversations, how fucking impolite and ill mannered.” It was Will, as he snapped at you. Your face set ablaze underneath his searing gaze, feeling terrified as he stared at you.
A look of disgust in his eyes.
“She might as well be the next Freddie Lounds.” You wanted to hide away from the way Will was glaring at you. Glasses long gone, curly strands slicked back as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Your lips trembled. “I—”
Your throat was parched, running dry in an instant as you attempted to speak and come up with some sort of excuse to your bad behavior. You felt like a child trapped between two adults, anticipating a very bad scolding, maybe even a beating too.
“You're scared, hm?” Hannibal reached for your face, squeezing it between his hand. Your lips forming a forced pout. You were trembling in his hold, as resilient as you were.
You'd decided to follow them, in a way, finding solace in them. The cannibalistic murderers of Baltimore, murder husbands, the FBI profiler who eloped with his cannibalistic psychiatrist. Everytime you saw them on the news, you felt a connection form between you and them and tug you towards them. It was profound, what you felt for them and how the people to whom you were an unknown person comforted you.
Without their own acknowledgement.
You didn't want to die.
As much as you had nothing to live for, other than the delusions that you were meant to join the two— you were an empty shell. An unstable mind wandering the world with nowhere to go. You attempted to make a run for it as soon as you felt Hannibal’s grip loosen. Bolting for the large door, your hand nearly grasped onto the golden knob and pulled at the door but Will was quick to run after you, grabbing your hand and pushing you up against the wall next to the door.
His palm laid straight on your cheek, forcing the side of your head along the wall. Holding you firmly in place all while you struggled and became a sobbing, sputtering mess. Pain blossomed in the side of your head, throbbing and roaring through your skull. Like it could grow two large heads more. The rough manhandling caused tears to pool in your waterline, threatening to drop.
You felt horrible, didn't know what was so wrong about wanting to get to know them on a deeper level as they provided you with comfort. Feeling a bit dumbfounded and stupid.
“Please—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Will nearly growled in your ear, a shiver of terror dancing up your spine.
You watched, in your blurred peripheral vision, a figure moving in next to you. It was obviously Hannibal and you stared at him with a plea clear in your eyes.
“She looks so afraid.” He commented, moving his gaze from your face to Will’s. The man still locking you in place. “She's pretty too.”
“I hate to agree.” Will sternly said, with a hint of frustration in his voice.
You struggled and squirmed, all futile and not enough to help you get your freedom. Will’s hand tangled in your hair, fingers grabbing a bunch of your hair and fisting them. He dragged you from the door and tossed you right across the vast space on the floor, watching as your body collided with the hard marble.
You didn't waste a single second in scurrying away from them both. Now you were the prey and they were the predator, stalking upto you like you were their food. Which, you were pretty sure you were going to become. You didn't mind but you couldn't die with a heart aching to be understood, to be seen.
“She deserves a punishment, no?” Hannibal said to will, voice laced with mischief.
You shook your head. “Sorry—so sorry.”
Your tears and apologies were falling upon deaf ears. Will reveled in the feeling of seeing you this helpless, at this mercy and he knew he could crush you beneath his shoe like a dying little bird. Hannibal was more interested in Will and your dynamic, how you craved to be in his presence yet were terrified of him.
He found it endearing, even.
“Oh no, apologies won't cut it, pretty girl.” He said, in a hoarse voice. “I'm gonna make sure you never ever do something so silly like this ever again.”
Fear had consumed your whole being. Fingers trembling and breath hitching. Heart beat pattering like wild raindrops against a glass window. You could feel it thumping in your ears, as nausea took over you. The urge to throw up all over the floor fought to dominate you but you didn't allow it.
“What were you thinking?” Hannibal asked, squatting down next to where you were on the floor, back pressed into an old viking artifact. “Following dangerous men like us around. Just what did you believe you would achieve from it, if not your demise?”
You gulped, staring between the two men.
Glancing at Will and cowering under Hannibal’s gaze.
You didn't dare speak a word. The letters of the word ‘comfort’ burning the tip of your tongue but you didn't say it. The fear that wafted off you was almost arousing for Hannibal Lecter. His strong ability to smell emotions and feelings helping him smell your fear and anxiety.
“Answer him.” Will ordered, reaching forward and squatting down next to Hannibal in front of you. His hand extended out and collected the hair straight from your roots, tugging onto them. It hurt, the burning sensation spreading along your scalp as your neck was craned up.
You stared at him, a lone tear sliding down.
“J-Just wanted to see, w-wanted to see how you both do it.” Broken words uttered by your broken self.
Hanninal and Will looked at each other, seemingly communicating through their minds as their eyes spoke. Hannibal nodded and Will’s attention shifted back to you, this time staring at you with a different type of void behind those blue eyes of his. His grip tightened and you whimpered, fueling your tears.
Then he leaned down and in a rough kiss, captured your lips. Teeth clashing against your skin, tugging and biting on it. Your little fists tried to push him away from you, banging on the expanse of his chest. He didn't budge at all. Will had newfound determination to break you, to break you in order to put your pieces back together.
In a way he'd liked.
Hannibal knew as manipulative as he was, Will Graham was a cunning boy.
You felt him sink his teeth into your lower lip, piercing the skin enough to evoke blood. A trail dripping down, accumulating at the round of your chin. Vision blurry and eyes squeezed tightly, you cried and cried while struggling. It only worsened your situation as you felt someone behind you— taking a hold of your small fists and restraining them behind your back.
Hannibal held you in place tightly, giving full access to Will to have his way with you.
Your lungs expanded, in desperate attempts to suck in air but all you felt was Will’s tongue slipping past the entrance of your mouth. Colliding with yours, like snake, wrapping around it and in a way, the man was fucking your mouth.
Plunging his tongue in an out of your mouth.
Saliva, blood, tears. All of these liquids proved your demise, though not forever. You knew after Will or both the men are done with you, you'd be different. You'd be dead and you'll be reborn.
“Will, do you intend to end her life with a kiss?” Hannibal called out and the man finally, finally retrieved his tongue and broke apart from you.
Terrified to open your eyes, you let them stay shut. You could feel the hot breath of Will mingling with your own, chest moving vertically up and down. Lungs dragging in as much oxygen as the organs could, unaware of when they'll be allowed to breathe ever again.
“Open your eyes.” Hannibal’s hands caressed your wrists as he whispered in your ear.
You didn't listen and that was a grave mistake. That somehow managed to piss Will off more than you invading their privacy. Your disobedience towards Hannibal and as he walloped his hand across your cheek, a ringing sound entered your ears.
It was loud, everything becoming a blur to you.
Just how hard had he hit you?
Your eyes were opened and you blinked profusely, now finally capturing the man in front of you. You noticed the swell of his lips, as well as the blood that was smeared all over it. His slicked back hair now messed up in a few strands dancing over his forehead. You didn't stop your cries this much, soft little sobs echoing in the spacious museum.
“Will,” Hannibal warned. “She's fragile, you shouldn't be this aggressive.”
“She's strong and she knows it. A fragile little girl wouldn't stalk two men all the way from the US to Italy, would she now, princess?” You shook your head.
The obedience you had shown by responding immediately was satisfying for both of them. The slap had worked, and Hannibal took a hold of your chin, moving your face towards him. His scrutinizing gaze hovered over your busted lip. “It's bleeding, poor you. Will is really cruel, isn't he?”
The sheer rudeness and strictness Will Graham expressed and showcased was in complete contrast to Hannibal’s sweet, gentle demeanor. Its like one was meant to leave bruises while the other bandaged those same wounds.
“Please.” You pleaded, completely unaware of what you were actually pleading for. You knew that even if they were to let you go, you would still continue to stalk the men. You couldn't survive separation and it wasn't like you wanted to live with the two or be roommates, no.
You were more than okay with striving in the shadows, only admiring them from afar.
How did they catch you?
Were you that obvious? That obsessed and infatuated that you hadn't realized these men could outsmart you?
Will stared at you, the scared look on your face stirring something primal within his chest. You looked so beautiful, so broken and he saw himself in you. He saw who he was before meeting Hannibal and this — what he was about to do to you — could be your breakthrough.
They could be your pillars.
Hannibal was in absolute awe of the beauty you possessed and were. Just the raw vulnerability you exposed and how dedicated you were to stalking them, it was all endearing to him. To him it felt like you harbored romantic feelings for him, for them both. Like a puppy following its owners.
“Tie her up.” Will said to Hannibal and he nodded — immediately getting to work. Despite the amount of tears you shed, the struggling and the pleadings, it didn't bother them one bit. Hannibal had found a rope, magically and it made you realize all the more of how deep you had fallen into the well.
They came prepared.
Oh they had thought everything out.
They were looking forward to this.
“No, n-no, please. Listen to me.”
Didn't matter. You were nothing but a lifeless little doll, a plaything to keep them entertained. Hannibal tied you up, hands behind your back. Each knot tightened to the point of purple bruising, his hands skilfully moving across your body. It wasn't just your hands he tied, he'd restrained your arms too and the pain begun in your shoulders.
Both of them looked at you, sitting on the floor, tied up. Your dress had riled up to your thighs in the endeavor and it exposed your soft flesh, which seemed to be an invitation for the two men. Hannibal could only think how you'd taste, drenched in honey and garlic, sizzled on a barbeque. The flesh roasted and sprinkled with diced coriander.
Meanwhile Will could feel his cock becoming hard at how fucking hopeless you seemed. Just sitting on the floor, soft little sniffles falling from your lips. Even a few hiccups here and there too. A red handprint on your cheek a clear indication of your disobedience. It was a sight he wouldn't mind if he were to witness it for the rest of his life with Hannibal.
Will leaned down to you, sitting next to you as his hand reached for the exposed flesh of your thighs. When his soothing fingertips touched your skin, you flinched. That act of yours and how unwilling you still were made him tighten his grip on your thighs, nails leaving crescent moons all over the skin.
“You could've chosen a different path. A different life, different interests than the ones you have right now.” There was almost a heavy sadness to his words. Like he missed the person who he was, somewhere deep inside his mind. “Yet you got yourself into such a mess. Trapped with two men. Do you have any idea what we'll do to you, pretty girl?”
You shook your head.
“If you knew coming here would have you end up like this, would you still go through with it?” He stared at you, in anticipation, searching for the answer in your blurry gaze but he didn't need to.
As you nodded your head. Proving the unstable state of your mind. Despite knowing things would end this way, you'd come to this place over and over again. They had noticed you, they'd seen you, felt you. How could it get any better? Yes, you were hurt but did it really matter? It was worth seeing the two perform their art in all its glory.
Hannibal stared at Will and the man scoffed — shaking his head. “You're such a braindead little thing, aren't you?”
You lifted your eyes up from the floor you were on, confused. The confusion gave you the look of a lost puppy, who had no idea just what was even happening to it. Puzzled and all over the place, terrified and lost.
“She's a peculiar one.” Hannibal commented, one hand slipped inside his pocket. “Should we take her?”
“We'll decide that when she's proven to be worthy of it.” His hand inched closer and closer, riding further up your thigh and between them. Your breath hitched, body shivering as you felt his fingers brush against your clothed cunt.
You were already soaked, as confused as you were about it. They had humiliated you, disrespected you, hurt you yet your panties were saturated. Upon feeling the slick coating your inner thighs, Will let out a dark chuckle and showed his fingers to Hannibal.
The slick glistening against the bright lights.
“She's not some innocent little girl. Her cunt is drenched, Hannibal. All because of how we treated her, like some whore.”
You squeezed your thighs together, not wanting Will to pry more but he did. Both hands at both knees, he parted your thighs open fully and exposed you to the lascivious gaze of himself and Hannibal. The wet spot on your beige panties the perfect innuendo that you were aroused, like some fucking animal and it grossed you out.
Why were you feeling this way?
Will’s hand lowered to your cunt, his thumb flat against your covered clit. He moved it in slow, circular motions, watching you in exciting anticipation. Your body twitched, hips immediately beginning to writhe and he scoffed. Your reactions were fucking adorable, both the men in complete awe.
You still wanted out — as good as this felt.
You struggled, squirming your hips and trying to stray further from him but Will grabbed your leg, putting his own over it to refrain you from moving. You whimpered at his heavy weight on your leg, as he continued his ministrations on your cunt. He then finally peeled the panties off you, sliding them down yout ankles and tossing them to the aside.
“Fuck, such a pretty pussy.” He whispered, Hannibal also joining him on the floor.
Both of them stared at your cunt like it was a meal they both had craved for a very, very long time. A fresh set of tears fell as Will parted your pussy open with his thumbs, pink flesh coated with creamy arousal.
Hannibal shifted behind you, pulling you between his own legs. Both his hands caressed your sides, slowly riding upto your breasts. Fingers kneading into the plush of your tits and dragging your dress down, watching the fat mounds bounce out. His own cock hardened at the sight.
Hannibal loved the female body, how beautiful and different it was than a man's. Innocence seeped into it, like a fresh drop from the sun and a tear of the moon.
You looked up at him and shook your head, squirming. “Stop —no. Not right, not right.”
At your resistance, Will delivered a sharp smack across the stripe of your cunt. Watching as the pink deepened. He slid a finger inside you and you whimpered, gaze fixated on Hannibal. The men simultaneously toyed with your body, having their way with it and you could only sit there helplessly and sob.
“She's tight, even around my finger. I wonder how she'll take both of our cocks.” Will’s comment made Hannibal’s concealed cock throb. A low rumble escaping his chest, vibrating against your back. “Don't tempt me, Will.” Hannibal warned, his fingers pinching and tugging at your hardened peaks.
Will soon inserted another finger, staring up at you. He found you disrespectful and downright rude. Somewhere you reminded him of a certain redhead, with how you lurked everywhere in the shadows wherever they were. But he knew you were nothing like Freddie Lounds. You did not possess the same greed she did, the same lust for fame and content.
Instead he saw darkness. The type of darkness that matched his own — a reflection of his own self. He plunged his fingers in and out of you, curving them and gaining access to that sensitive spot. As he hit it, your gummy walls tightened around his digits, greedy cunt sucking them in.
Meanwhile Hannibal forced you to look at him, one hand still toying with your perky tits. He stared down at you, finding you endearing. How you cried, every movement of your little body. The tears pooling in your waterline, the way your lips shivered and produced small sobs, how the fear flashed in your gaze once in awhile. You were so broken and so damaged, he wanted to fix you right up.
By breaking you apart.
“You should've expected this to happen. Stalking dangerous men like us, while being so frail and fragile yourself. Just what did you expect to happen, hm?” His grip tightened on your wrist, as he stared at you.
You had no words. There was nothing on your mind, other than the realization that you were trapped and had nowhere to go. There was no one coming to your salvation and the thought terrified you more than anything. The complexities of your own emotions and thoughts warring together only left you further braindead.
Hannibal captured your lips. At first the kiss was sweet, gentle even but soon you realized it was only to swallow your little sounds. Every time Will bruised your sensitive spot, Hannibal swallowed a gulp of your whimper. These two were like wolves, consuming and sucking the blood out of their prey.
He continued kissing you, prying your mouth open and mingling his tongue with yours. The fact that you still had Will’s saliva in your mouth, also dribbling down your chin and Hannibal kissed the same mouth. It was all too taboo to not turn you on. Your hips shuffling a little only for Will to press his own leg harder down on yours.
Will stared at you both, watching with a burning gaze as Hannibal practically sucked the soul out of you. He scoffed a little, remembering Hannibal’s words from earlier at how he almost ended you with a kiss. The man was doing the same now, just with a much gentle tone.
He didn't even allow you to inhale or breathe, lips locked against yours in a tight firm kiss. You struggled, attempting to move here and there but it didn't work at all. He continued devouring you like you were his last meal. He kissed differently than Will. He kissed with the intention to eat you, with the intention to savor you for the rest of his life.
It was too passionate for you to ignore. Tears sliding down your face. “You can't eat her now, Hannibal. Don't end up biting her tongue off.”
Will’s words made Hannibal stall for a moment, registering what the man had said. He was right, Hannibal couldn't actually eat you now and from how sweet you tasted, he wanted to bite your fucking tongue off and decorate it with your white teeth.
He backed out, after relishing in the taste you had to offer. Hannibal almost flinched at how fucked out you appeared, from a mere kiss. Your vision had blurred, your mind hazy and your cheeks red. You stared at him, partially lost and numb and then more tears slid across your face.
“Let's take her over to the table.” Will passed an order and Hannibal complied, picking you up within seconds. Your legs resting on his waist, as he carried you to the table.
It was somewhere in the back, concealed in a dark corner. Hannibal laid you down against it on your stomach, and you kicked. Your little kicks delivering to his leg but it didn't affect him at all. Your act of disobedience was like drops of fuel against a fire and it angered both of them. Hannibal’s fingers circled around your ankles, holding them in place.
Will walked over to the two of you, and his fingers drowned in your locks. Grabbing a fistful of it, he craned your neck up and made you look at him. “You fucking brat.” Will slapped you across the side of your face, watching you with a burning stare.
Incinerating pain grew on your right cheek as you slowly regained your senses back and registered the slap. Blood trickled down your chin, the source being your busted lip. The trail cold and dark. “S-Sorry.”
“Oh you'll be fucking sorry when we're done with you, whore.” Will turned to Hannibal. “You take her cunt, I take her mouth. She'll know just how easy we were being on her.”
“Don't end up damaging her.” Hannibal responded, grip tightening on your ankles. “I have taken a liking to her, she'll be good entertainment.”
“Fine.” Will replied with a groan.
Then you caught his attention, again. How unlucky you were. You watched as he unzippes his pants and your eyes widened in horror, hearing another zip being pulled down right after Will’s. You shook your head but it caused Will’s grip to tighten.
As he pulled out his cock, you heard shuffling behind you as well. Will tapped his fat tip against your cheek, then slowly running it along your sealed lips. “Are you going to open up or do I have to force you?”
You contemplated. You really contemplated and the slap made you more pliant, as you parted open your lips. On the other hand, Hannibal had pushed your legs apart, his own cock in his hand. He slowly guided it inside you and when you felt his thick head enter you, a high pitched moan echoed within the walls of the museum.
Will pulled your hair. “Stick your fucking tongue out.”
And you obliged. Ashamed and embarrassed, you stuck your tongue out and Will slapped his fat cock flat against it a few times before driving it inside the wetness of your mouth. Feeling them both enter you at the same time, one inside your cunt and the other dominating your mouth. You cried out in pain.
Hannibal looked down at how your pussy hugged his cock, barely halfway through and a low growl rumbled from his chest upon seeing the ring of blood around his cock.
You were a virgin.
“She's a virgin Will.” Hannibal called out, pushing himself deeper inside you. To a point where no one else has been. “Poor girl probably wanted something sweet, something gentle for her first time.”
Will practically melted at the fact that you were a virgin. Completely untouched. He wondered how could that be possible with the way you appeared and how your body was carved by the gods them selves? But he didn't care. It was perfect. You were perfect.
Made for them.
Crafted for them by the same god they both resented.
Will’s gaze dropped down at you, watching you as your lips squeezed around his cock and sucked him in. “Ever sucked a cock before, princess?”
The term which was usually used for endearment sounded so ironic when it came from Will. Like he was mocking you, using it to taunt you. He didn't mean it when he called you that. He was only using it to make you feel horrible, calling you a princess while treating you worse than a peasant.
You shook your head. You were foreign to the idea of such explicit activities before this very night but now, you were stuffed two cocks. One in your mouth and one in your cunt.
You felt Hannibal’s cock grow thicker inside you at the information, its veins throbbing against your gummy walls. A muffled cry of despair left you as Will continued sliding his cock further into your mouth. “If I feel one tooth, I will punch them right out of your mouth. Got it?”
You inhaled through your nose, nodding.
“Good.” Will released your hair as both his hands settled against your face. He held your face, the head of his cock pushing past your palate and uvula as a loud groan mixed in with your muffled whimpers. He snapped his hips, not caring that you were choking all over his cock.
Saliva trailing down your chin, making a mess around your mouth. You moved your shoulders, all the while Hannibal held you tightly against the table by your hips and fucked you like some wild beast. Both men used their full strength, snapping their cock inside you and it left you light headed.
“She's squeezing me in so much, almost as if she likes this.” You heard Hannibal grunt, his cock slamming against your cervix. From how hard his fingernails dug into your flesh, you knew your skin was bloodied by now.
Hannibal’s gentle demeanor was out the fucking window, replaced with the monster he truly was.
As Will’s cock slid along the surface of your tongue, his hips bucked and he fully bottomed out in your mouth. You could feel his head at the back of your throat and gagged all over it, tears splattering out of your eyes. It was all a mess. You couldn't even breathe anymore and let out little screams — which were muffled and only worked as vibrations against Will’s throbbing length, nearing him to his orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck. I bet her little cunt is as tight as her mouth. It's like I'm fucking a pussy.” Will whimpered, slurring out soft little pants.
Hannibal groaned in respond. “Show me her face, Will. Right now.”
Will nodded, pulling out of your mouth only for a few seconds as he flipped you on your back and pushed your head up, holding it for Hannibal to witness the mess he'd created out of you. A mirror with broken shards, showing Hannibal a reflection of himself.
He almost came at the sight of you.
Looking so fucked up. Hair a mess. Lips bruised, bloody and swollen. Tears and saliva running down in rivulets. You were a fucking sight for sore eyes and Hannibal wanted this every single day. He needed to witness this every single day.
And he never needed anything.
“So beautiful. So fucking—” He snapped inside you, his pace becoming rough and animal like thrusts founding their way against your bruised spot. “beautiful but such an impolite little girl.”
He spat as the sound of skin against skin echoed in the room. Bouncing off the walls of the museum, reaching the carved out ancient ceiling. The cupids listening to each and every noise made in sin.
Will dropped your head down, your neck bending slightly as he shoved his cock back inside your mouth. This new position gave him all the power to fuck your mouth thoroughly, watching as the imprint of his cock inside your throat formed against your skin. Bulging and moving along the skin.
It turned him on like nothing else.
He glared at you, eyebrows furrowed in pure pleasure, lips parted to allow heavy pants escape it. Will Graham looked fucking breathtaking when the sweat trickled down his forehead. You were wondering if this was that bad, if them taking you against your will was anything bad.
But it was the pleasure getting to your head.
Of course this was morally wrong and fucked up.
But who had morals in this room?
One was a cannibal, the other was an accomplice and murderer and you were an unhinged stalker.
“Fuck you looking at huh?” He asked you, abruptly slapping your chest. Your back arched and you let out a whimpered cry, almost tempted to use your teeth.
But you were well aware what that act would cost you.
Will gasped out, feeling his orgasm nearing while Hannibal looked at Will. He could only admire the view before him and as he fucked your cunt, his own orgasm came knocking at his door. Both of them imitated each other's pace, fucking you like wild animals during mating season.
They came soon and the intimacy of them cumming together was so intense. Hannibal’s load shot out, coating your gummy walls and filling you up to the brim. Will’s thrusted, and as you subconsciously tightened your mouth around him, the man also released into your mouth.
His moans had evolved into whimpers and gasps, breathing ragged as he emptied himself inside you. Balls throbbing and hips bucking. It was fucking intense, for both Hannibal and Will. His fingernails dug into the wood for support, fucking your mouth leisurely to ride out his orgasm. Hannibal had left marks on your thighs and hips from how roughly he'd gripped them, as well as blood trails from his nails.
Coated in your own blood, your once untouched and unclaimed skin was now drenched in sin — purity long snatched by the hands of the devil himself. In your case, both Hannibal and Will relresented the Devil. Falling angels they were.
As Will pulled out from your mouth, he caught a glimpse of all his load sitting there in your mouth. It's taste salty and texture thick. Something you'd never ever experienced in your mouth.
“Swallow it.” He ordered and you shut your mouth, swallowing it all. It felt gross and weird against your throat but you didn't complain, only a look of grimace crossed your face.
You still hadn't cum.
Your body twitching and aching. Your cunt screaming for its own release, knots building up in your stomach and thighs convulsing. You were close too but Hannibal stopping made you let out a whimper of frustration.
“Look at her, Hannibal. Twitching and whimpering for a release, huh.” Will scoffed, lips shuddering as he inhaled long chains of oxygen.
Hannibal pried open your hole with his thumbs, watching as his cum oozed out of you and pooled on the table. Your gaping hole sputtered, more cum leaking out and Hannibal licked his lips at the sight. “Although she has not been an obedient girl, I think she deserves her release too for taking us so well. Don't you, Darling?”
You nodded.
You needed this feeling of intense desire and wanton to disappear. This frustration that bit at your stomach, nipped away little pieces of flesh.
Will walked over to Hannibal as the man took you into his arms, sliding his cock back inside you. This time Will sat on top of the table, his half soft cock fully hardening at the evil idea that cooked in his mind. He held your ass, opening it with both his hands and slowly pressing his tip against your rim.
Your eyes widened. “N—No.”
“Still resisting us? Knowing we've claimed you, all of you? How naive.” Hannibal commented, face only a few inches apart from yours. He slid his cock inside your cunt as Will lowered you onto his. The two men were gonna tear you apart, you knew that.
Their girth and length were both something you couldn't handle, not at once at least. But Will didn't care — and Hannibal shared that. Feeling the burning stretch in your ass, you shrieked as Will entered you. A tear slid down your face, disappearing into your parted lips as Hannibal held you for Will.
“It hurts— hurts please.” You cried, like a broken doll and Hannibal pressed a kiss against the corner of your lips. “It'll feel better soon. You shouldn't feel pain. You're only a set of holes for our pleasure, aren't you?”
You didn't answer, too lost in the searing pain in your bottom. Will wasn't even half way through, you could feel it and yet it felt like you were being ripped apart. Hannibal’s cock stayed inside you, not movinf at all. Allowing Will to first adjust himself inside you.
“Answer me.” Hannibal held you with one hand, as he lightly smack you with the other.
You nodded. “Yeah, only a set of holes for your pleasure.”
Hearing you accept it like this, so vocally and out loud. Will lost it and slammed you down onto his cock, bottoming out. Pain bloomed in your ass and you screamed but before it could reach the ears of people somewhere outside the museum, Hannibal captured your lips in a rough kiss.
He licked at your tongue, teeth against teeth while fucking into you slowly. Will sat there as Hannibal moved you up and down on his cock and the burning sensation only grew with each thrust. “Stupid fucking whore. Just what was going through your head, this young and dedicating your life to stalking men twice your fucking age. It's like you wanted this to happen to you, yeah? Two cocks in you at once.”
Will’s filthy words was like alcohol, and blitzed you were. Guilt consumed you and somewhere their manipulation was seeming to work on you in this vulnerable moment. You should've know better. This was bound to happen. Just what were you expecting? That they would invite you into their lives with an open, warm embrace?
You were so fucking stupid.
Hannibal parted from you, his forehead pressed against you as he settled you down against Will’s thighs. You sniffled, feeling his cock all the way inside your ass as Hannibal used your cunt. You felt nothing more than some whore that was here for their pleasure, their sake.
Your stomach flipped and churned, a disclaimer that your release was near. Your thighs shook terribly and when Will pushed upward, you surged forward and leaned against Hannibal’s chest. You tightened around them both, toes curling and eyes squeezing shut.
“Oh she's close. I can feel her. She's gonna snap my fucking dick in half.” Will grunted, as you twitched. Then it came. That strong, bone chilling feeling of pleasure, consuming your whole being. Eyes witnessing white and lips agape, high pitched moans slurring out and tainting the purity of the museum.
You felt the potent need of release take over you ans you gushed out, squirting all over the men. Your body going limp and losing all its strength, falling over to Hannibal. All you saw was darkness, as your eyes stayed closed and your chest moved up and down. Frame suffering from convulsions.
For a moment you thought they'd stop but what a mistake it was.
“She's made quite the mess, Will.” Hannibal commented, his button up soaked in your release.
Will released a hoarse chuckle, his chest rumbling. The man started fucking into your ass, watching as it revived you back but this time you had no resistance left in you. One orgasm had sent you over the edge, overestimated and sensitive. You whined into Hannibal’s chest, tears staining his shirt as Will continued fucking into you.
Hannibal was also in pursuit of Will, his cock carrying its assault on your cunt. Encouraging broken whines out of you. The two were also stimulated enough and after fucking you for awhile, they too came.
Feeling Will’s load in your ass was a weird feeling. It was uncomfortable but what made it even more uncomfortable was Hannibal’s cum leaking out of your cunt, as he fucked it back into you.
You fell against Will’s chest, head resting on his shoulder. Face drained and numb, no energy left in you whatsoever. You were so fucked out and numb — no expression on your face as you stared at Hannibal.
“She's fucked.” Will said, with a laugh as he stared at the worried expression on Hannibal’s face.
He tapped his fingers over your cheek. “Hey, can you hear me?”
You didn't respond. Completely broken and tired. You craved solace in that moment, absurdly from the two men who were the sole cause of all this. How fucked up could this situation get?
“Hey.” His taps on your cheek grew harder but you didn't respond. Will sat up straight, arm wrapped around your waist as he held you against him. “Fuck, I think we damaged her.”
“We?” Hannibal raised a brow.
Will narrowed his eyes at him. “Don't pretend as if you weren't manipulating her into thinking this was all her fault, all the while fucking her.”
Hannibal looked at you, also tapping at your face but to no avail. You were completely speechless and devoid of any human emotion. Like some fucking statue.
“All the fucking left her braindead huh.” Will whispered and then he leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss against you cheek. He shook your body lightly and there you were.
Staring at him, with your innocent eyes and his heart clenched. You still had remnants of who you were, just like all of them but he knew this would change you.
“There you are.” Hannibal said, a wave of relief washing over him. You stared between the two men and finally gathered the courage to reply to their question.
“Comfort.” Both their gazes narrowed in on you when you spoke, voice strained and almost gone from all the moaning you did. “You a-asked me what I believed I would ac—” You coughed out before continuing, “achieve from this. Comfort.”
Will’s jaw tightened.
Hannibal found you even more endearing than before. How foolish yet adorable of you to think being with them could bring you comfort. He caressed away the drop of nearly dried blood from your chin, watching it taint your skin further.
“Let's go, we're going home.” The blonde said — as Will nodded his head. He liked the idea of taking a broken person like you home, especially when you had chased them only as a means to seek comfort. He didn't know whether to think of it as something sad or something sweet.
But both of them had plenty of time to decide that, as they were taking you home.
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rainbow-femme · 7 months
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I wonder if Will was ever mad about the fact that there wasn’t really period where people apologized to him for not believing him about Hannibal
It just went from “Will you’re a crazy murderer for even thinking Hannibal could be a serial killer” to “We all now believe Hannibal is a serial killer and have organically and equally come to this conclusion we could not have known at any earlier date”
I mean I feel like I’d be a little mad. I think he should have gotten one free slap on one of them and taken his time deciding who and when. Just mid conversation with everyone on how to catch Hannibal and he just absolutely cracks Chilton across the face then goes back to acting like nothing happened
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whipitgod · 4 months
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Friendly
Will Graham x Hannibal Lecter
oneshot - wc: 2.2k
summary: Post Fall- Will wants to make some friends and Hannibal thinks this is a terrible idea. part of the 'Pushed In' universe but it's not necessary to read those to understand this one
warnings: language, canon typical murder, crackish
a/n: Thank you for all the love on the last few oneshots!! i have a destiel oneshot as well as a part 2 to the stucky oneshot coming sometime in the next week so stay tuned for that!! as always, if you like this remember to leave a like/reblog! maybe even follow me :D! Happy reading!!
!!!!REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!
“Don’t think you can get out of this conversation by stabbing me Hannibal.” Hannibal looks down at the knife he had picked up when Will had brought up the topic of making friends, weighing his options. 
Hannibal squints slightly at the man in front of him, deciding whether or not he should try anyway, “It would certainly postpone the conversation,” He sets the knife down after saying this, glancing around a bit, his eyes landing on the door that led to the backyard; he could always make a run for it.
“Jesus Christ Hannibal, you’ve never had an issue with being social in the past,” Will takes a step closer to cannibal, hands raising in a placating gesture when he sees Hannibal's hand twitch slightly towards where the knife sits on the counter, “I mean, normally I'm the one who has to be forced to meet people.”
“I just don’t think making friends is all that pertinent at the moment dear,” Hannibal pauses to scowl at the way Will had grabbed the knife when he wasn't paying attention, “We arrived here so recently, I think it's fair that we give ourselves time to settle.”
Will rolls his eyes at the man, “We’ve been here for almost two years, I think we’ve had plenty of time to settle.”
Hannibal grabs another knife from the block of the counter causing will to send a pointed look at the man, “I’m serious Hannibal, you should know by now that a stab wound won't deter me from talking to you about this,” the man drops the knife back into the block, “If anything it’ll make me more annoying about it.”
Hannibal sighs at Will's words, knowing the man is right, “Fine, if it makes you stop bothering me while I make dinner I will attempt to make friends.”
Will offers Hannibal a smile at this, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to the man's lips before turning and making his way out of the room, “We can go into town tomorrow!” the words are called out over his shoulder as he enters their bedroom. 
It’s not that Hannibal didn’t like meeting people or that he was bad at it, quite the opposite actually; Hannibal had always been likable, navigating social situations with a lot of ease. The issue isn’t with the social interactions, in all honesty he wouldn’t mind having a few acquaintances; the issue is that Will was the one requesting it. The man can’t help but wonder if Will is already growing bored of him; why else would the ex-profiler be so adamant on meeting new people. Hannibal reasons that it’s fair for Will to be growing restless with the lack of human interaction that doesn’t revolve around Hannibal, the man had been almost entirely cut off from social interactions save for rushed conversations with shopkeepers when they venture into the nearest town.
In all honesty the main reason Hannibal didn’t want to make friends was because he didn't want a repeat of what had happened the last time they had both tried to make friends. They had decided to try and make friends separately a few months prior, the problem with that was the way that had both reacted to the new people in the other's life; they had both flown off the handle with jealousy. The whole event had ended in two murders and some, admittedly, amazing makeup sex. Hannibal stops chopping as he recalls the events from a few months before.
Will was going to kill him; Hannibal wasn't going to be able to get the blood out of the carpet by the time the younger man returned home, and when Will finds out that Hannibal had killed the only friend the man had managed to make during their stay in Argentina he wasn’t sure how Will would react. He was sure the reaction wouldn't be positive, though the man had forgiven him for worse Hannibal was worried this might be the straw that breaks the camel's back. He’s knelt on the carpet next to the large blood stain patting at it with a damp cloth, he hasn’t even had a chance to move the man's body yet and Will would be home at any moment.
Hannibal wasn’t sure if he had ever been this neurotic in his killing endeavors, he hadn’t even had the intention of killing the man that day. The man had been introduced to him by Will a few weeks earlier, his name was Marcus, and he was new to Argentina with no family; he had said he was looking for a fresh start and Hannibal reasons to himself that some might consider death a form of ‘beginning’. Marcus had stopped by in hopes of talking to Will about a fishing trip they had planned, and the man had frowned slightly when he was told that Will wasn’t home before fixing his expression into a polite smile and attempting to spark up a conversation with Hannibal. The man was polite and for the first time ever that made Hannibal dislike him even more; The man being respectful as he asked Hannibal about his hobbies and interests. The conversation had ended up steering back towards the topic of Will; Marcus singing the man’s praises, talking about how kind and funny Will was.
One minute the man had been talking to Hannibal in the living room and the next minute he was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood; Hannibal is a little fuzzy on the details of how it all unfolded. He remembers feeling overcome with jealousy, a feeling he historically had not handled well, and he remembers feeling the weight of the stone lion statue in his hand as he cracked it against the man’s skull, He remembers setting the lion statue back on the mantle of the fireplace before realizing exactly what he had just done. Will was going to be furious, an emotion that Hannibal loathed to have directed towards him, and he doubts the man will be willing to hear him out on this one.
He stops his work on the stain to run his clean hand through his hair, pushing it back from where it had fallen into his face, he heaves a sigh before beginning his ministrations again. He freezes when he hears the door open, taking a second to gather his thoughts and say his prayers before he has to face Will.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” there goes any hope Hannibal had that the conversation would be calm, “really Hannibal? You couldn't have found anyone else to kill?”
Hannibal hasn’t looked up from where he’s still knelt on the carpet, his knees are starting to ache, but he stays resolutely looking at the stain in front of him. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finds the words he wants to use, “I didn’t plan this one.” Not his best defense ever, that's for sure.
“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?” Will's voice is loud, and his tone is sharp, “I finally made a friend after living here for over a year, and you brain him the first chance you get?” 
“I truly am sorry dear, I let my emotions get the better of me.”
“Oh my God you were jealous.” It's not said like an accusation, Will sounding very resolute as he says it, “You couldn't stand the idea of someone else making me happy.”
“I admit that I am not handling your newly formed relationships well,” Hannibal looks down at where his once white shirt is now covered in splotches of red that are already starting to turn a rusty brown, “am I not enough for you Will?”
“Are you fucking with me right now?” at Hannibal’s lack of response Will lets out an incredulous laugh, “it’s normal for people to hang out with people that aren’t their partners Hannibal.”
“We are anything but normal dear.”
“Cut the dramatics, we are supposed to look normal. We have to seem normal, so people don’t start questioning what the two reclusive men living out in the forest get up to in their spare time.”
“I’ve made a lot of effort to look normal, I have dulled my wardrobe significantly!” Hannibal huffed an annoyed sounding laugh, “I mean dear god Will what else do you want from me?”
“Okay first of all, you didn’t ‘dull your wardrobe’ there just isn't anyone nearby that can tailor you ridiculous suits,” the cannibal makes an affronted noise at this, muttering a disbelieving ‘ridiculous suits’ to himself, but will continues on like the man hadn't said anything, “and I don’t know Hannibal, maybe you could start with not killing the select few people that I can manage to form friendships with!”
“I told you that I was sorry,” Will barks out a sharp laugh at this but Hannibal ignores him, “and I told you that I didn't plan this, I really don’t know what came over me.”
Hannibal stands slowly, knees cracking with the movement; he’s getting older, and he’s reminded of it every time he sits in one place for too long. Once he’s on his feet he chances a look at Will, and he freezes at what he sees.
“Why are you bloody dear?”
“This isn’t about me, Hannibal.”
Will was covered in smears of blood; Hannibal can make out a few distinct bloody handprints on the man's arms. The blood was everywhere, the cannibal would guess it's even in Will’s hair; the remnants of blood splatters remain on his cheeks, smeared around slightly from what Hannibal assumes was a failed attempt at cleaning it up.
“Whose blood is that Will?”
“Would you believe me if I said it was mine?”
“No.”
Will curses softly to himself, pushing his hair out of his face, “You’re going to have to find a new person to get your wine from.”
“You killed Victoria?” It’s Hannibal’s turn to let out a disbelieving laugh, “and you had the nerve to react to my behavior the way you did?”
“I didn’t flirt with Marcus.”
“I don’t recall flirting with Victoria.”
“She flirted with you, and you played into it!” 
Hannibal scoffs, “I did nothing of the sort! I was simply being ‘friendly’ like you asked me to.”
“Oh, you were ‘friendly’ alright! Apparently, you never mentioned me to her because she seemed awfully surprised that your husband was there to talk to her.” Will was practically shaking with anger, the rage from earlier when he had killed the woman returning in waves.
“We never discussed anything that personal Will, we merely talked about wine and literature.” Hannibal reached up to place a placating hand on the man's shoulder, but Will smacked it away.
“You couldn’t be bothered to mention the fact that you had a husband to the woman that all but asked you to strip every time you saw her?”
“She was being kind.”
“Way too kind.”
“So, you killed her?” Hannibal isn’t necessarily upset at the turn of events; he’ll admit that he had grown a bit fond of the conversations he shared with the woman, but the news of her death doesn’t stir up many emotions.
“Of course I did! You should know by now that I’m not the most stable man Hannibal,” Will pauses for a moment, remembering what had led them to this conversation, “let’s not forget that you did the same thing,” Will motions to the corpse laying on their living room floor, “and at least I didn’t ruin the carpet during my murder.”
“Your murder seems a bit more premeditated than mine, and a lot bloodier.”
“I know a cannibalistic serial killer isn’t judging the gruesomeness of my murdering.”
“I’m simply observing-”
“Oh, I’ll give you something to observe-”  
“Please Will, my head is starting to hurt,” The fight is leaving Hannibal quickly, the events of the day starting to catch up to him, “I need to do something about this body,” He pauses for a second, “You don’t have Victoria in the trunk of our car do you? It’s a nightmare to clean.”
“She’s at the bottom of the lake, I didn't want to look at her any longer than I had to,” the younger man sighs and rolls his shoulders, the day was starting to weigh on him too, “This conversation isn't over, but let's put a pin in it while we deal with the dead guy.”
Hannibal nods at the man's words, turning towards where Marcus's body lays, “Heads or tails?”
“You’re not funny Hannibal.”
He’s snapped out of his thoughts by the hand that Will places on his shoulder, his head snapping up to meet the man's curious gaze, offering him a small smile.
“Are you feeling alright?” 
Hannibal’s mind flashes back to Will’s earlier statement about how stabbing him wouldn't end a conversation, and even with that thought present he still thinks about trying. Hannibal didn't want to admit to Will that he was worried that another attempt at forming friendships would end with just as much blood as the last attempt. He also wasn’t keen on the idea of admitting that he was jealous, “I’m great.”
“You don’t look great, you look almost constipated.”
The comment earns a scowl from Hannibal before the man sighs and turns to face Will, “Do we have to make friends?”
“Yes,” Will takes in the state of Hannibal, the man looking a little queasy at the thought of Will forming bonds with other people, “and we aren't allowed to kill them this time either, I finally got that carpet replaced.”
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lesbianwithchainsaws · 3 months
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Thinking about writing a lesbiannie fic inspired by good luck babe by chappell roan
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shegatsby · 2 months
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Hi,
could you please write a Hannibal one-shot, where he is in love with Alana‘s best friend? He met her after she picked up Alana from one of his dinners? And Alana often tries to set them up, with the reader being pretty stubborn, but after a while, finally gives in?
A/N: Hi, thank you for this request. Don't wory guys im getting to your other requests as well. xxx
''Pretty please!'' you heard Alana's honeyed voice yet demanding. You were at home, minding your own business, reading and drinking your wine when suddenly your friend Alana called, asking you to pick her up from a friend's dinner party. ''What happened to your car?'' Alana paused for a second, she came up with a quick lie ''Broke down a week ago.'' you looked outside the window and saw the darkness, under the yellow street lights one could see snow. ''Send me the address.'' Little did you and a certain gentleman know that Alana had a cunning plan. You wore a simple outfit, black jeans, a burgundy sweater, with your keys you left the comfort of your home.
The drive was 20 minutes, when you parked you felt as if you have entered Dracula's castle. ''The owner of the house must be into architecture.'' you thought.
When you rang the bell you had a feeling that tonight something strange would happen but you pushed that feeling away, no need to be paranoid.
A tall man answered the door, and made you freeze for a second. He was much taller than you, his maroon eyes seemed like the pits of a deep wheel, observing you and calling for you, ''Hello, I am Doctor Lecter. Please come in.'' you walked in with a bluch on your cheeks, you weren't sure why you were flustered. He took your coat, ''I am Y/N Y/L/N, Alana's friend. Here to pick her up.'' you said calmly as he took your coat you didn't notice but his eyes closed for a second to smell your scent and he found himself intrigued. ''Please follow me.'' you did as he said, he guided you to the grand living room where Alana was sitting by the fire place, as soon as you entered you were struck by the ambiance. The inside made you feel like you were in a museum, the walls were dark blue which held paintings from renaissance era, mostly depictions of ancient Greek tales. You fund yourself standing in front of the painting of ''Leda and the Swan''
''You are interested in fine art I take it?'' you heard Hannibal say with a cool yet interested tone. Before you could speak Alana's voice was heard ''Yes, my friend is deeply interested in art.'' you gave a threatning look to your friend and turned to Hannibal, ''Yes, I'm in awe of what men can create.''
Hannibal found your answer daring, you could see his eyebrow twitch, ''If you have to I would love to offer you a warm cup of tea?'' he offered kindly, you looked at Alana, wondering if she had to go home immediately but she nodded in agreement. ''I would love that. Thank you.''
''I will be back shortly.'' he declared and left you alone with Alana.
Alana had a strange look on her face as she sat by the fire again, ''He is fine isn't he?'' she asked trying to conceal her smirk, you rolled your eyes and sat next to your friend. ''What's your angle?'' you turned to your friend, obviously she was after something. Her blue eyes had a strange shimmer. Hannibal walked in with a silver tray that had three cups, you noticed how he held the tray elegantly his three piece suit made him look like a member of a royal family far away from here. You noticed his accent, he must be from Lithuania, an exotic place and exotic man...
''Thank you.'' you said she handed you the porcelain cup, it smelled divine, ''My pleasure.'' he responded kindly. It also tasted divine.
Even though you had spent thirty minutes there you loved the conversation, he was konwledgeable about everything and he was willing to listen, you noticed how focused his eyes were on your reactions and face.
You dropped your friend off and drove back home. When you climbed the bed your mind went back to tonight's events. Doctor Lecter's demeanor made you aware of him, he was there and dominant. It triggered you in an exciting way.
The next morning you went to work, you worked at a bookshop, the owner was an old lady who needed help and you started working, it had been 2 years and you were comfortable there.
As you placed the books on the shelves you heard the door open, a dominant voice called in a disbelief ''Miss Y/LN?'' you turned to owner of the voice, ''Doctor Lecter?'' you were startled to see him there, ''H-hi, how are you?'' you stood up to approach him, he was wearing a long black coat, black leather gloves and a dark red scarf, he immediately took off his gloves and extended his hand eagerly, ''Its lovely to see you here Miss, I'm very well, what about you?'' he smiled and you swore his eyes shimmered with an emotion... a powerful one.
''I'm doing great, what brings you here?'' you asked in a curious manner.
''I'm on a break and I thought I should look for a new book to read. I had no idea you were working here.'' Lie... Last night ss soon as you left he did a deep dive search on you and thanks to your Instagram he found a lot about you.
''What a grea idea. Anything speacial in mind?''
He looked around for a second, ''I would love to hear your recommendation.''
He was looking at you so intensely, ''Well,'' you started, ''My favorite is Great Gatsby by Fitzgerald.''
He took a step towards you, once again you were reminded how tall he was, tovering above you, ''May I ask why?'' his dark mind observing you, ''Its a love story and im sucker for those,'' you chuckled which earned you a grin from him, ''There was a line there which stroke a cord with me,'' you stopped to think for a second, trying to remember, ''He looked at her the way all women want to be looked at by a man.'' you gave the quote, ''Its just.. a great story.'' you were gas and his eyes were matched, lighting you up.
''Its a shame,'' he made you focus on him, you thought he was going to humiliate you, ''All the credit goes to Fitzgerald in fact his wife Zelda was the one who he stole the ideas from.'' your eyes lit up, he knew.
''Another white man getting a credit from something a woman had done. Same old story.'' you commented, he raised his hands as defending in a sarcastic manner, ''You said it, not me.'' you laughed at his reaction.
After talking for a while he offered you something, ''I will be throwing another dinner party next week. I would love to see you there.''
You smiled gently, ''I would love that.''
The entire week you pondered upon what to wear, and the day finally came. Alana was at your home watching you get ready, ''Wow, he really invited you huh? I knew he was interested in you since the second he saw you.''
You rolled your eyes, ''Its not like that, he is friendly.'' you protested as you wore a nice black dress, ''I know him, he never invites other than his work friends, you are the first person from outside his work and... you know what? You'll see what I'm talking about.'' Alana raised her hands in a weary attitude.
When you entered his home you understood what Alana was trying to say, everyone came from a successful background and they were all one way or another his colleagues, she was right. You were an outsider. Alana introduced you to her team she kept talking about, Will Graham, Jack Crawford and others, you had a nice chat when Hannibal approached, his eyes first landed on Will, who waa talking to you, and then you. ''I see you met my close friends.'' he said greeting you, ''Will was just talking about a case you and him worked on.''
His stood next to you and his hand went to the small of your back, you didn't understand what was going on, but he was directly facing Wil.. ''Please Will, go on.'' his tone was careful. ''Uhh-'' Will froze for a second, he looked at you and Hannibal and then smiled understandingly. You still didn't understand what was going on but let it go.
The night was vibrant, you met most of his colleagues and they were nice and kind but everytime he introduced you to someone new he would place his hand on your back and stood there like a statue.
When the night came to an end Alana left you with him, you decided to help him in the kitchen, he gave you an apron and you got to work. He played some classical music, you heard Hildegard Von Bingen and smiled to yourself, he noticed, ''I love Hildegard.'' you explained shortly. Together you worked in silence, ''Thank you for helping.'' he said gently and you smiled kindly. He offered a glass of wine and asked you to wait in the living room, the fireplace was lit, you decided to stand by the tall window and watch the serene night.
Hannibal walked in with two glasses and for few seconds he watched you, you looked calm and content. He approached and offered you a glass, ''Thank you.'' he smiled kindly and decided to stand next to you, a question was nagging you, ''Alana said that you usually invite your colleagues.'' you began, ''That is true.'' he said waiting for you to continue, ''What am I doing here then?'' you asked turning to him, looking at him under your lashes, ''I wanted you to mee to my friends and be a part of my life.'' he was so frank that it caught you off guard, '' You have captured me the moment I had met you Y/N, you don't have to say anything just think about it.''
''Yes.'' you found yourself saying, ''I want to be with you too Hannibal.''
He smiled lovingly and leaned in for a kiss.
Thank you for reading. :)
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