#hannibal lecter one-shot

[dolicekiss]

Abundance Desire

PAIRING: Dad's bestfriend!Hannibal X Bratty!reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni), dubcon, dark hannibal, age gap (reader is nineteen), mentions of patriarchy, unprotected sex, degrading, humiliation, spanking, impact play, messy kissing, hair pulling, perv hannibal, choking, breath play, exhibitionism.

SYNOPSIS: Your dad had always been the type to invite his friends over to attend glamorous dinners and everything you appeared dull, least interested in engaging with his old fellows. Too boring for you and always being told to be on your best behavior around them always irritated you but when another one of your father's guests arrive, you're left quite speechless. Handsome, charming and all the more enticing. You feel yourself drawn to him — but your bratty mouth makes things worse.

“Don't go around talking back to his guests.”

Was what you had always been told. The problem did not lie in you talking back to them, it was you putting them in their place everytime one of the old geezers commented about your behavior and how you were an exact replica of your mother. Your behavior, lack of discipline all came from her and you only wished to punch them in the face.

Fucking old people thinking they could get away with disrespect until you opened your mouth and showed them your true nature.

Today was one of those nights where your father had made your mother prepare a flourishing dinner, a grand one at that. It did not matter to him that she would grow tired, that she would sweat to the point of dehydration in the kitchen, as long as his fucking guests were content and full.

You hated them for that reason.

They could turn down the offer, but no.

You knew they were not at fault but you disliked each and every one of them.

Hearing the small knock on the door, your father ushered you to open it and you stood up from your seat, a big frown etched on your features. Upon opening the door, you were met with a much more handsome man that you'd expected. He was tall, evidently and his frame was larger than yours ever could be.

Hair a deep shade of golden and body draped in what appeared to be an expensive grey suit. His face carried a polite smile and all you could do was stare at him, enthralled by the amount of beauty this man possessed. The clearing of his throat caught you off guard, bringing you back to the real world.

“Hello, Dear. You must be his daughter.”

You nodded, at a loss of words. You stepped aside from the door, allowing the man in and he entered. In his hand was a black box and through the transparent sheet in the box you managed to catch a cake in there.

Precisely a chocolate cake.

Your favorite.

You almost smiled when the man handed the box to you, his fingers accidentally brushing over yours. It made you feel different, which made you realize how wrong all of this was. You couldn't be feeling this drawn to your father's friend — especially one that was nowhere near your age.

A decade older.

You shook your head, a feeble attempt to rid your head of thoughts regarding the mysterious man. He shook hands with your father as you eyed him, battling the allure this man had. Out of all your father's guest, this one apparently had the most grandeur dinner prepared for him. You did not like him already, as handsome as he was.

“Fucking ass.” You muttered to yourself, arms crossed over your chest and when your father signaled you to go over to the kitchen where your mother was practically slaving away under the pressures of a patriarchal household, you rolled your eyes and obliged.

Only because she most definitely needed your help.

Upon entering the kitchen, you were met with your mother who with the back of her one hand wiped away the perspiration from her forehead while with the other, whisked up some sauce. Her food was the best you'd ever tasted but this talent of hers played as a curse rather a blessing.

You sighed, reaching over and taking the whisk from her fingers. Copying her actions, whisking up the sauce for the goose laid before on tray. “I've got it. You should put the cake in the refrigerator.”

Your mother looked over to the black box you'd placed on the side of the counter and nodded, picking it up and heading towards the fridge. Just when you were done with the sauce, satisfied with its thick consistency, you poured it over the goose.

Your mother had prepared goose, beef along with shrimps. You were already starving and you knew she was too. Ever since you both had woken up, you were subjected to constant labor in the kitchen. Even after advising your father against your mother preparing dinner, taking out his guest being a better idea.

Of course the man was relentless in making his food connoisseur of a friend taste your mother's delicious food and rate it. Thus, your newfound irritation for the man was born.

Everything was done and when your mother fried the shrimps, decorating them beautifully on a pale plate, you were handed them in a tray to take outside. Your body was clumsy and everytime your mother would give you a task, she would also follow it up by a ‘be careful.’

You made your way out, thankfully wearing a short sundress which did not get in the way of you when you took the tray to the dining room. Your father's friend was already situated, gossiping about something unnecessary. You placed the tray down and lifted the plates, setting them in the middle.

You could feel his gaze upon you.

Upon looking up, you were met with him. Dark eyes focused on you, a smile causing lines in his cheeks and eyes. You quickly finished and walked back inside the kitchen with the tray in your arms, your platform heels clicking against the marble floor. Your mother was already waiting to hand you another tray, the second last and you repeated the same actions from before.

Placing the tray down — lips in a thin line, face stoic and eyes focusing on the plates you lifted. You were a clumsy girl and no matter how much you concentrated at a task at hand, you found yourself failing. As you picked up a glass, it slipped right from between your fingers.

The man reached over, to pick it up before you could, fingers brushing over yours in the process. “Be careful, Dear. You wouldn't want to break it now.”

You snatched the glass from underneath his loose grasp, placing it down on the table and smiling at him. “Don't worry, mister. I got it. This isn't my first time serving my father's rather useless friends.”

You'd whispered those words to him, with a evident fake smile on your lips. Hannibal was taken aback by your hostile behavior but he did not let it affect him — rather left him intrigued. You had a mouth to you and he enjoyed the mouthy ones, as long as they were pretty.

You had a certain allure to you.

How your hips swayed as you walked out of the kitchen, how your lips twitched in what he assumed irritation whenever your gaze captured him, bangs hovering over your forehead concealing it. Beauty had been bestowed on you and Hannibal was an admirer of art.

Even if it was forbidden.

Your father obviously was too busy smiling to even hear what you had said to his guest. You walked back inside, brought back another tray and this time your mother followed behind. Her apron untied and left on the kitchen counter and after the table was decorated, all of you sat down.

“This is a lot,” Hannibal said, very much impressed with the grandeur of the beautifully decorated dinner table. “I don't believe I would be able to stomach it all, really. You have tired yourself out, miss.”

You rolled your eyes but then, at least he'd taken his time to appreciate your mother's efforts unlike all the other guests. You still were not pleased with him and everyone began serving themselves. You watched as with each bite of the goose meat, Hannibal closed his eyes as if to really savor the taste of it.

“God, this is truly spectacular.” He praised, chewing onto the meat. “You are blessed with talent for culinary, miss.”

Your mother nodded, round cheeks flustered as she acknowledged the man's praise. Your father seemed the happiest, as if Hannibal’s validation meant everything to him. “Hannibal, I'm glad you're enjoying the food.”

So that was his name.

Hannibal Lecter.

You knew his last name since that is how your father had ordered to address him but his first name was unknown to you. Hannibal smiled, nodding his head while sliding off the meat from the fork, his lips puckered and plump. You swallowed, gaze lingering over the man's features.

Your father caught the almost empty glass of Hannibal and then looked over to you, placing his fork down. “Be a dear and pour Hannibal a glass of wine, girl.”

Your fingers tightened around the fork, placing it down and standing up. He was more than capable of pouring his own fucking wine but of course your father had to make you play little waitress — it is exactly what your mother had given birth to you for. Hannibal read your body language like it was an open book, understanding the annoyance swirling in your eyes.

You walked around the table to his side and grabbed the bottle rather roughly, aiming it over his glass and pouring the wine. In your anger, you filled his glass to the brim and accidentally spilled a few drops over his perfectly ironed suit. Your father gasped but Hannibal smiled.

“It is alright.” He reassured. “Accidents happen, may I know where the bathroom is?”

Your father, irritated, looked at you.

You nearly groaned. “I can lead you, if you'd just follow me.”

Your tone was venomous as you began walking into the direction of where the bathroom was, not waiting for the man to follow you up. Though his heavy footsteps were enough to tell you that he was right behind you. The bathroom was further into the house, down the hall in the corner and upon reaching it, you pointed at it rudely.

Hannibal tilted his head. “Help me clean this.”

“Excuse me? You're a grown man. First you fail to pour your own wine and now you expect me to clean this?” You scoffed at his expectations, losing restraint of your sharp tongue.

Hannibal stepped closer to you, locking you against the wall and you stared at him with panic filled eyes. He was too close, for his own good and your breath hitched. “Listen to me, little girl. I do not know what one sided problems you have with me nor do I care for it but you better mind your tongue.”

You stepped up, shrinking the distance between the two of you. “Or what, old man?”

He raised a brow in amusement, a smile crossing his features. Eyes locked with you, he stepped closer causing his chest to brush against yours. His breath, wine and rosemary, mingling with yours. Hannibal was not intoxicated, you knew that for sure.

“Little girls like you think they can go around disrespecting anyone.” He breathed on your face, tingles dancing over the bridge of your nose. “Wait until someone puts you in your place, then you won't be running your mouth.”

You laughed in his face. “Oh please. You're my father's guest, expect him to lick your fucking balls, not me.”

You tried walking away from him, but two steps in and his hand had already found its way around your arm. Hannibal pulled you back, your small frame colliding against the wall and a thudding sound broke through. A gasp fell from your lips and the endeavor to leave was proven futile when Hannibal wrapped a hand around your throat.

“Keep quiet.” He ordered and long gone was that sweet smile, replaced with a sharp look in his inundating gaze. “You're lucky you have a pretty face and I have an obsession with art.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Hannibal’s grip on your throat tightened, watching as you struggled in his hold. Petite hands punching at his wrist, but to no avail. You sputtered and tried to inhale some oxygen but the man had cut off your air supply tenaciously, not allowing you a whiff of the air.

Tears welled up in your eyes and at this point you could not even call out for your parents, as Hannibal had constricted your vocal chords from being used. Your pearly tears streamed down, face evolving into a deep hue of purple and that is when he released you, pushing you into the wall from the force.

You coughed, tears and drool everywhere.

Your desperate attempts to inhale some air into your expanded lungs was deemed adorable by Hannibal and he expected you to finally show some obedience. Your hands circled around your throat, a searing sensation spreading beneath the skin.

Your body shuddered at what this man was capable of. How under the veil of politeness and gentleness lurked darkness and tenacity.

“Clean the mess you’ve caused.” By that he meant the wine on his suit and you nodded, rushing inside the bathroom with him behind you.

You ran a wet towel underneath a running faucet and then turned to him with shaky fingers, clearly traumatized and afraid of what he was capable of. He noticed the tremor in your fingers, how you missed his thighs by an inch while trying to clean up the spilled wine.

“There.” You said, tossing the towel aside.

Your brattiness still had not left you and Hannibal smiled, knowing it would be fun to break a girl as adamant as you. It was obvious that you only needed time to recover from the brutality of his grip and you'd be back to disrespecting him.

“You're so pretty when you're obedient like this.” He praised, reaching out to run a thumb over your chin. You froze at the touch, lips trembling and the close proximity made you quiver in front of him like some little kitten, lead astray by someone evil. His touch now was in contrast to his monstrosity, what he'd done to your throat.

It was soft, like he meant it.

Like he traced your chin to embed his mind with it.

You wanted to stay silent but your damned tongue. “I wish I could say the same about a man as incapable as you are.”

Those words caused the soft trace of a thumb across your chin into a harsh, searing grasp. You whimpered when he tugged your whole body forward with little to no force, holding you in place. You saw him lean in, with sheer determination to capture your lips in a kiss and he did.

No amount the struggle, resistance and fight you showed.

He took your lips like the pair belonged to him. Hannibal encircled an arm around your waist and pulled you into him, your perfect little ass pressing into his crotch. His lips savored yours, sucking and biting and all you could do was struggle against his bone crushing hold.

Hannibal had lost his grip on morality, if it even existed. When his dear coworker invited him over for dinner, he never thought he would be engaging in such sinful acts with his daughter. The same daughter he'd seen pictures of, shown to him and the other coworkers by your father. You were such a pretty lamb, perfect face and luscious hair but what he did not expect was for you to have such a foul mouth.

He pushed his hips into yours and you felt something hard, perched on the curve of your small ass.

The more you struggled, the more it worked to arouse Hannibal. His golden strands hovered over his forehead as he somehow managed to pry open your mouth, harshly entering your mouth. His tongue wrapping around yours, fucking your mouth and all you could do was struggle.

Sounds of clothes bustling and kissing filled up the bathroom but thankfully the water running silenced your sounds. Hannibal’s other hand moved to grab a fistful of your perky tits through your dress and he groaned upon feeling them without a bra.

Fingers pinching and twisting your nipples rather roughly.

The kiss, once broken, left you completely light headed. A string of saliva trailing from his lips to yours, testament to what he had done to you. Your teary eyes were wide with shock as Hannibal continued drilling his bulge into your ass.

“Please,” You whimpered, palm half the size of his trying to push at his bicep. “my father will find out.”

Hannibal broke from you, not wishing to raise suspicion. He left you deserted in the bathroom and made his way back to the dinner table. You took time to stare at your disheveled reflection in the mirror — straps of the pale dress loosely sitting around your arms and purple prints on your throat intimidated you.

Your skin was tainted and you released your hair from the ponytail they were in, covering the sides of your throat with it. Hannibal had put most pressure around your throat, not directly on it.

You pursued him too and found your parents engaging in a conversation with him. His gaze met yours, with a subtle warning as you sat down on the couch. You should've told your parents about the heinous act, but you didn't and you didn't know whether it was because you lacked the courage or because you simply liked it.

How rough he was, how inhumane.

The dinner soon came to an end and Hannibal was forced to stay back by your parents. It was obvious that he also wanted to stay back, maybe for you and the thought made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

“Delicious cooking, miss. I truly enjoyed each and every dish.” Hannibal once more praised your mother and she flourished, murmuring a thank you.

Your father lead him to the guest room which was on the first floor while your room was at the top second one. You helped your mother clean the table and washed the amount of dishes which had piled up in the sink. You took your time while everyone else went to sleep — your arms sore from the amount of cleaning. It was truly tiring but there wasn't much you could do. Your mother’s tiredness was written all over her face and you could not bring about to ask her to help you.

But at least now everything was peaceful.

You'd put on light music in the background to help you clean around the kitchen, soapy hands rubbing the sponge over the tray as you moved your hips to the music. This time of the hour made you the happiest — no one to boss you around or interrupt you, bother you or irritate you.

“Having fun, aren't you?”

Your feet moved, leaping as you turned around to face the owner of the deep Lithuanian accent. “Mr. Lecter.”

Your blood ran a little cold upon recalling the events from a fee yours ago, shoulders stiffening and Hannibal, an expert at reading body language caught yours. Your little dress was soaked around your stomach from the water being splashed, exposing your taut stomach.

“Burdening a little girl with such hardwork, you deserve a reward for this.” He walked over and leaned against the counter. You noticed the change of clothes — suit and vest long gone, only left behind was his button up shirt and his dress pants. His sleeves were rolled up to expose his arms and you glanced at the protruding veins embedded underneath the skin.

You let out a laugh. “Like I said, nothing new. I'm quite used to cleaning after my father's useless guests.”

You closed your eyes, knowing you'd once again lost control of your tongue. But you did not feel bad. You felt the man move, his ever looming presence towering over you and tou sucked in a harsh breath.

“Bratty little girl.” He whispered, large hands sitting atop your waist, rubbing up and down.

You whimpered at his touch, subconsciously pressing your ass deeper into his crotch, awakening his restless cock. Hannibal thought he had you, right where he wanted but he was wrong. You'd grown a liking to his rough behavior and how easily he put you in your place.

“Did you come here for dinner or to prey on your colleague's young daughter? If he finds out, he would surely be disgusted by what a perverted man you are.” You shamed him for his sickly desires, shaking your head in disappointment.

Hannibal’s fingers dug into your sides. “Do you take me for a creep?”

“You're worse. Probably have done this to other girls and now I'm next on your line. A woman your age surely would not want you, seeing how fucking desperate you are.” Your words ignited a burning fire within him and he turned you around, pushing his hips into your concealed mound.

The visible tent in his pants only growing and your breath broke when you felt him push deeper into you. His hand moved to your hair, grasping your roots and tugging on them making you wince. Your whimpered was swallowed by Hannibal as he devoured your lips, his other free hand tugging at the thin spaghetti straps of your dress.

Unveiling your perky tits to him, he broke the kiss and started to litter kisses down the trail which connected your neck and jaw. You tried to push him off, punching at his broad chest but god, you were fucking helpless and pathetic against him.

Chills danced across your spine, maneuvering path to your pulsating cunt. Your heart beat rapid, lips falling apart to let out the prettiest of sounds.

Hannibal tore himself from you, with too much power and in the heat of the moment dragged you towards the dinner table. He pulled out a chair, sat down on it and then bent you over his lap. You couldn't make much noise of struggle as you didn't wish to disturb the peaceful sleep of both your parents.

His large hands moved your dress all the way up to your waist, exposing your sweet cunt and bare ass to him. The cold air made goosebumps protrude at your skin and you cried out, trying to move away from his lap.

“Stop, please.” You whined. “Let me go, please sir. Leave me!”

“Shut the fuck up.” He snapped, striking down his palm across your ass causing you to yelp and flinch. “You wouldn't want to wake up your parents now, do you? Their slut of a daughter managed to seduce their guest.”

You pouted but the moisture in your pussy was proof that you relished this.

He slammed his hand back down again and the sound reverberated in the confinement of the kitchen. Burning sensation flooded into your skin as he delivered another tight slap to your ass, the impact forcing you to surge forward.

“Such a perfect little ass.” Hannibal compliments, running his palm over the fat piece of globe. Your skin was so supple and soft, it drove him insane and he couldn't want to fully sink inside your little cunt. From how you behaved, you were probably a virgin.

You winced when he squeezed the flesh and then went back to hitting you, causing your skin to burn a deep shade of red. Tears had welled up, and with each hit, streamed down in rivulets. Your ass incinerated and your cunt throbbing, clenching around nothing but emptiness. “I-It hurts, Mr. Lecter, p-please. I promise, I-I won't talk back to you again.”

“Oh quiet now.” He slapped your ass again, watching the flesh jiggle with force and his cock felt like it would burst open. “Your little cunt is twitching and throbbing. You're enjoying this like the whore you are.”

You tried shaking your head to disagree but Hannibal ran his fingers across your slick, glistening folds, bringing it to show you.

“Yeah? Still going to deny that you're getting off this?”

You whimpered when he shoved his fingers into your mouth, making you suck on them. Your cheeks full and round as he moved your hand, making you take his fingers and gag on them like some whore. You were panting, bubbles of drool all around his fingers and your mouth. Your eyes fluttered shut and more tears fell.

Hannibal pulled his fingers out of your mouth and grinned, plunging them both at the same time in your soaked cunt. You cried out but buried your face into his thigh, concealing the echo of your moans. The burning stretch in your untouched cunt was nothing as there was more yet to come. You writhed on his lap but he held you in place, fucking his fingers into you.

“You're sucking in my fingers like its a damn cock, little girl. Do you like it, my fingers buried to the hilt inside this greedy pussy of yours?” Even he was breathless and you whined, shaking your head but Hannibal knew better than to believe your adamant responses.

He curved his fingers, pushing them deeper and you sobbed endlessly, a mess you'd become. “P-Please.”

Your pleas had fallen upon deafened ears as Hannibal quickened his pace, with determination to pull a hot scorching orgasm out of you. His fingers managed to push into your sensitive spongy spot and your back arched off his lap, face cladded in foreign pleasure. His lips broke into a smirk as he repeatedly delivered harsh thrusts to that spot.

Your stomach tightened, thighs twitching and Hannibal figured your release was probably dancing around you. “I feel it— oh my god. I feel it, please slow down. Please fucking slow down.”

He didn't care.

Squelchy sounds paired with your muffled whines filled up the entirety of the kitchen, elevating the room with tension. Hannibal's repeated hits caused your stomach to tighten, eyes disappearing back into your skull and your orgasm taking full control of your twitchy little body.

It was all powerful, sucking the energy out of you when hot white pulsed through your veins and you unraveled right on his fingers.

Shoulders twitching, sensitive whimpers escaping your lips. Your cunt had gripped his fingers like a vice and he could only imagine what you would do to his cock. The thought drove his hunger, heightened it and when Hannibal pulled out of you, his fingers grazing against your wet walls made you whine.

He grabbed you, standing up and your wobbly legs made you give up. Lower body spent but this was merely the beginning. Pushing you up against table, he sat you down on it and parted open your legs to expose your pink cunt to him. Swollen, spent but still had more to offer.

“I'm gonna fuck this cunt of yours now. It'll feel much better than my fingers.” He whispered to you, hastily unbuckling his pants and retrieving his cock. Your hooded eyes enlarged upon witnessing the sheer size of his manhood — cock head leaking with pre cum and veins embedded in the length of it.

You shook your head. “I-I’ve never done this before. It won't fit, please. It won't.”

“I'll make it fucking fit.” He snapped at you, slapping you across the face. As beautiful as you were, the ability to annoy someone to the point of insanity was deeply rooted in to you and Hannibal could only handle so much. “Be a good girl and hold open your cunt for me, invite me in. Beg me to fuck you.”

You shook your head as you wept. “No.”

“Don't fucking test me. Do you want me to hit you again?” His threats made you reach for your pussy, spreading apart your glistening folds with your fingers and exposing the pink gaping hole to him. Because you had already have released, it only made you more sensitive and your untouched clit throbbed.

“And the begging?”

“P-Please fuck me, Mr. Lecter. Please, put your cock in me.” You were a sobbing, sputtering mess. Incoherent words everywhere and Hannibal realized he had truly broken you, not that it mattered to him.

He aligned his cock with your hole, looking up at you. “Hold it open like this for me. You only let go when I allow you to, understood?”

You nodded.

Hannibal landed a slap to your right cheek. “Use that bratty mouth of yours, baby.”

“Yes, mister.” You whispered, getting used to his harsh hits as brusque as they were.

Hannibal prodded at your hole, finally pushing his cock into you. He didn't let you get used to him, sinking fully into you and you muffled your cries by biting down on your lower lip. The force of it so harsh and potent, enough to draw out blood. Your hands ached to grab a hold of him, cling to him for dear life but he had not allowed you to let go of your cunt.

“Oh,” Hannibal groaned, chest rumbling with unbridled desire. “such a tight little cunt. If I knew he was keeping such a beautiful little girl here, I would've come sooner to attend his dinners.”

You sobbed, quietly, tears and drool making a mess on your face. Lips glistening from saliva as Hannibal buried himself inside your wet walls to the hilt.

“P-Please, wanna hold you. It hurts, please sir.” You begged, hoping that it would work to melt him and it did. Hannibal gave you a nod of approval and you were quick to cling onto him, small arms wrapped around his nape as he drilled his cock into you.

Rapidly thrusting in, hips stuttering and pelvis meeting yours. Your bare cunt made him hungry, a starved mad man who knew he would come begging for more. Looking down, he saw crimson coating his cock in the form of a ring — a testament that he had defiled a beautiful girl like you. Not that it mattered. He would do it again.

Both hands pressed against each side of you on the table, Hannibal used it to support himself while bruising your cervix. Your wails of oversensitivity were muffled by his lips as he drank them, his own growls a threat to this rendezvous. His pace was relentless, full of vigor and you could not keep up anymore.

Letting him use you like some toy, face buried in his chest.

“Beautiful girl,” he praised, heart fluttering at the sight of you so small in his hold. “with a sweet little addicting cunt. Can't wait to fill you up.”

You whined in his chest as his balls throbbed and cock head pummeled into your swollen cunt. Hannibal felt himself near, his peak around but he wanted to make you come. The second time, knowing it would be more intense than the first one.

Your stomach was taut — full of butterflies and your thighs convulsed in anticipation, heart pattering like wild rain drops over a stone. Your fingernails dug into the skin of his nape when your second, searing orgasm tore through you and your lower body immediately gave out. Loud sobs suppressed as Hannibal brutally took you like a hound.

“Sir, sir. Oh my god, It's so— I can't. Can't please.” You begged endlessly, forehead sweaty. You pulled your head from his chest, looking up at him, tits bouncing with each thrust.

He looked as disheveled as you. Shirt messily unbuttoned, not all the way, only a few buttons. Forehead drenched in sweat, golden ringlets glued to it. His lips panted and eyes shut as his hands found their grip on your small waist, drilling his cock at an animalistic pace at you.

Hannibal finally broke, reaching his high. He spilled inside you, balls hot and throbbing leaving you gasping when you felt his hot seed paint your walls. Reaching as far as your womb. “Yes. Fuck, oh god. Such a tight little pussy, a fucking whore you are.”

You were breathless and so was he, growling like an animal.

Hannibal soon pulled out, watching as your gaping hole sputtered out his seed. Pink tainted with white, and some remnants of crimson. You were spent, body falling back on the table.

“That was amazing.” He whispered, staring at you.

You were too fucked out to even say anything and Hannibal almost felt bad. Though he didn't. He picked you up, into his arms and took you to his room down the hallway since leaving you on the kitchen table sprawled out like that would put him and you both in trouble.

Your head buried in his chest, holding onto him.

This was, hands down and no doubt, the best dinner of his life.

[softieekayy]

Intertwined

Hannibal Lecter x reader

Word count: 1.8k

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

[mizutsugi]

Hiii!

May I please request a Hannibal x reader fic, preferable female or gn where the reader is a full-on insomniac. Reader is a full-on workaholic (literally can be anything, author, painter, lawyer, idk) so when they start staying over at Hannibal's every now and then, the first time he wakes up to reader no being in bed is SCARY for him. Because what if she's snooping around his house and finds his basement?

Anyway, it just turns out she's in the dining room, bathed in the bright blue light of her computer screen working. So Hannibal needs to coax her back to bed.

Thank youuuu

3 am 💻 (hannibal x reader)

↳request!

↳word count: 1,439

↳cw: sfw, gn reader, mentions of taking a pill

↳a/n: gahhh wait! i see your vision!!! i feel like he would act chill but be freaking tf out on the inside... thank you so so much for your request! hope you like :) <3

Your relationship with Hannibal had grown to the point where, after a hardy dinner with an endless supply of rich wine that slowed your senses, he would urge you to stay the night instead of drive home. He was still a gentleman, and would occasionally offer to drive you back, but after he really took a liking to you there was no point. You also would make no effort to argue with spending another night in his downright luxurious king size goose feather bed with pressed silk sheets, huddled up against his warmth. 

Tonight, you were wrapped up in said silk sheets like a cocoon, back pressed to Hannibal’s chest as he slept soundly. You could feel the gentle push of his chest everytime he took a small breath, and it was quite comforting. What wasn’t comforting, though, was the fact that you were wide awake at- you glanced over your shoulder at the bedside table, peering at the digital clock- 3:28 am. You sighed. You sometimes grappled with insomnia, and as a defense lawyer you knew your time was never truly your own. Your mind would usually race with thoughts about checking your inbox, peeling over your current cases, and researching until your mind went numb and eyes couldn’t physically remain focused. You absolutely adored your job and the opportunity it gave you to represent the law, something so incredibly important to you, but at the same time… you knew that your career choice came with a price (outside of law school tuition). 

You couldn’t keep your current case, in particular, out of your mind. Your endless stream of thoughts were urging you to rush to your laptop downstairs and re-examine the file of evidence for your client. You realized that, despite how impossibly warm and comfortable you felt in your cocoon of expensive and amazingly soft sheets, you had to get up and go through your documents. You weren’t getting sleep anyways, right? Might as well make the lost time worth it.

You slowly, ever so delicately, slid out of bed, making extra sure not to wake Hannibal. You let your feet lightly graze the floor before stepping down, walking on the tips of your toes out of the bedroom. You slightly shivered at the cool air beyond the cozy bed, feeling goosebumps rise in your exposed flesh. You made your way quietly out of the room, then down the staircase praying that his old Baltimore home wasn’t too creaky. Luckily for you, it wasn’t, and you were able to fumble your way through the dark house before landing in the kitchen, cold tiles beneath your soles. You flicked on a lamp on the far side of the kitchen aisle, where you had (rather strategically) left your laptop. You hopped on to one of the leather barstools and opened the lid of your computer, feeling the harsh white light of the screen on your unadjusted eyes. You squinted, quickly typing in your laptop before breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of all the files you needed already being open in separate tabs. You worked for a while, scanning through each document thoroughly and pulling up a separate page to write all your notes in. 

About 20 minutes later, Hannibal had stirred awake. He immediately felt the cold of the room, and almost instantly noticed the lack of your presence in his bed. He could see the faintest of golden light peeking through the exposed doorway, and he knew you were up. He was always worried this moment would come- a night where you didn’t drink enough to knock yourself out into a deep sleep, and your naturally curious nature would lead you to hopping out of bed and rummaging around his house. You weren’t rude in the slightest, obviously, so you wouldn’t be doing it to be nosy. Maybe you wanted a glass of water, but found that the tray was out of ice and you needed to get another tray from the freezer in the basement. Maybe you would hear something down there and get worried, and would follow the sound down into a place you were never supposed to see. Though he had intentions of letting you know him completely one day, it wasn’t to be a day anytime soon… especially not while you still served the court of law. 

He was torn between what to do. The last thing he wanted to do was harm you- he had truly grown fond of you- but if you found the skeletons in his closet, he would simply have no choice. His appetite would always come first. He stood up and opened his neatly organized beside table, finding a scalpel resting near the edge of the drawer by the handle. He grabbed it and tucked it into the sleeve of his sleep shirt, holding it there discreetly with his palm. He stealthy made his way down the stairs and into the living room, following its path to the source of the light. That’s when he heard something- the familiar sound of you typing away at your keyboard, plastic keys being pressed down at an impossibly fast pace. He took a small breath, composing himself to release his tension. He looked around before glancing at his couch, and tucked the slender blade he was carrying deep into the crevice of one of the smooth cushions before making his way into the illuminated kitchen. 

“Y/N.” He called to you, causing you to nearly jump in surprise. 

“Oh my god, Hannibal…” You clutched a hand to your chest, taken off guard but smiling at his appearance as he stood by the doorway, calmly watching you. “Sorry… I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Of course not, dear.” He was wearing his classic maroon sleep shirt with dark linen pants, and your heart softened as he offered you a warm smile. “I was merely worried when I heard you on your laptop. It’s nearly four in the morning.” 

“I know, I know…” You said, partly ashamed. You looked back at the page, which was bathing your tired eyes in harsh white littered with tiny black lettering that looked, admittedly, a bit manic and unorganized. “I just couldn’t sleep, and then I thought about work, and…”

“I understand. However, whatever it is, I am sure it can wait for tomorrow morning. I have something to help you sleep.” He stated, watching you as you hesitated, sighing before eventually caving and bringing your delicate fingers to the screen before pulling it down and shutting your laptop. 

You slowly peeled yourself off the tall chair, hissing in pain as your joints creaked at the movement. Hannibal looked at you sympathetically, assured you hadn’t seen anything he needed to worry about, before waiting for you to cross the kitchen and join him. You walked to his side before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, giving it a few rubs with his slender hands. 

“Let’s get you to bed.” He muttered, walking you back to his room. He allowed you to lean on him slightly as you finally felt exhaustion start to course through your body. He stopped you on the edge of the stairs, and as you swayed slightly with barely open eyes, he swept his hands under your legs and tucked you into his chest, now holding you up with his forearms and making his way up the stairs. You smiled lazily, allowing him to carry your bridal style back to sleep. Man, he’s strong, you thought to yourself. He layed you back down on the plush bed, allowing your limbs to untangle from him and flunk onto the soft fabric beneath you. He climbed in beside you, kicking off his slippers next to the edge of the bed and digging through his bedside drawer for some hydroxyzine to help you stay asleep once you dozed off. He offered you the pill, and you lightly took it from his hand. You placed the pill on your tongue before he held a glass of water to your lips, allowing you to tilt your head back before letting the liquid flood your mouth. You swallowed the pill, and after he placed the glass back down, you snuggled up against him. You pulled yourself into his chest, already feeling 10 seconds away from sleep. He brought his fingers to your delicate cheek, brushing stray strands of hair off it and allowing you to cuddle up to him. Relief came over the both of you for two opposite reasons, but either way, you both were able to contently slip into sleep without any issues this time.

↳a/n: thank you so much for reading! keep them requests coming since i'm home for the holidays...and bored lol

thank you again to anon for the request too!

[decayed-cartilage]

do you currently take requests? i absolutely ADORE the way you write hannibal and may be a little (aka very) obsessed with the current intern series.. if you do requests could i request dark/yandere hannibal general headcanons :33 could be nsfw or sfw im fine with literally anything you write 🥲

A/n: thank you for suggesting 😊 I really hope I do this justice... Ive never like done this format and I think I wrote a lil too much 😮‍💨 but please let me know how you feel!! 💕 Big kisses

WARNINGS: stalking! Smut! Fingering! Taking advantage! Mentions of death! Allusion to cannibalism!

Yandere! Hannibal headcannons + mini fic(s)

Masterlist

Yandere! Hannibal who deliberately took up new hobbies—ones he knew you loved—just to have an excuse to spend more time with you.

Y/N lit up the moment she stepped into the studio, her eyes wide with happiness. It was an expression I had come to enjoy—genuine, seeing me among the rest of the potters.

"Doctor Lecter! I had no idea you enjoyed pottery as well!" she said, her voice warm, even a giggle slipping out.

I smiled, hands still dusted with clay. It was true that I had no particular passion for pottery, but I had learned. For her. And now, standing before me, she believed this was a passion of mine.

"Of course, Miss L/n," I replied easily, meeting her gaze. "I'm sure we've spoken of it before."

She hesitated, just for a second. Had we? The question flickered behind her eyes, but she dismissed it just as quickly. If I said it was so, then surely it must be.

She launched into conversation without another thought, her words flowing freely—soft, lively, unguarded. I nodded at all the right moments, smiling when she laughed, watching the way her enthusiasm bubbled over. It was an effortless thing, listening to her.

But my attention wasn’t truly on her.

It was on him.

Her boyfriend stood just behind her, arms crossed, gaze flicking disinterestedly over the room. He had no appreciation for the art, not even for the things that brought her joy. He was here out of obligation, not care. And yet, he stood at her side, playing the role he assumed was expected of him.

I watched him, my gaze steady. Unwavering. Not a glare, not an obvious threat—but something quieter. A measured, deliberate look that spoke more than words ever could.

He felt it. I could see it in the way his posture tightened, in the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly. He wouldn’t meet my eyes for long.

Good.

She didn’t notice. She was still talking, still laughing, blissfully unaware of the moment unfolding between us. But I held my gaze a beat longer, just to be sure the message was understood.

Just to be sure he knew he didn’t belong.

Yandere! Hannibal, who carefully manipulated doubt into your mind, never overtly suggesting you leave your boyfriend—but making you see the cracks you’d once ignored.

Hannibal watched you unravel in real-time, your delicate fingers fidgeting with the loose thread on your sleeve, your voice quiet, hesitant. You were always hesitant when it came to him. That fool. That boy who didn’t understand what he had—what he was so carelessly throwing away.

"He left me in the middle of the store… and I was so scared," you murmured, like you were embarrassed by the admission, like it wasn’t something that should infuriate you.

But you weren’t angry. No, you were simply hurt. Still trying to justify his actions, trying to shrink your feelings into something more tolerable, something that wouldn’t make you seem like a burden.

Hannibal exhaled slowly, though the tension coiled within him like a serpent.

"He knows about your anxiety, doesn’t he?"

The way your breath hitched—so subtle, almost imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t watching for it—told him the answer before you even nodded.

Of course he knew. And yet he still did it.

How reckless. How unworthy.

Hannibal’s fingers curled slightly against the arm of his chair as he studied you, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make you question it, just long enough for the thought to begin forming in your own mind before he spoke again.

"Then he knew what he was doing."

It wasn’t a question. It was a fact. One that you needed to hear. One that you needed to accept.

You frowned slightly, your gaze lowering as if you were trying to find some hidden excuse for him among the lines in your palm.

Hannibal leaned forward just slightly, lowering his voice, making it intimate. “And when you found him… what did he say?”

You swallowed. That small, nervous movement of your throat. He wanted to reach out, to smooth his thumb over the tension there. Instead, he waited.

"He just laughed. Said I was overreacting."

Overreacting.

Hannibal nearly smiled. Not out of amusement, but out of sheer disbelief at the audacity of such a dismissive remark.

“I see,” he murmured, but there was nothing soft about it. “Tell me… if it were the other way around, if you had left him there, knowing his fears, knowing how much distress it would cause him, would you have simply laughed?”

Your reaction was immediate—head shaking, eyes widening, an instinctual no.

Of course not. Because you were kind. You were thoughtful. You cared too much, even for those who didn’t deserve it.

He tilted his head, studying you, letting you sit with the realization. “Then why does he deserve that kind of grace?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Nothing to say. No excuse to offer.

Good.

Hannibal relaxed back into his chair, watching you intently, watching the weight of his words settle into you. He didn’t need to say anything else. The idea was already there, curling around your thoughts, winding itself into your heart.

All he had to do now was wait.

Yandere! Hannibal, who held you as you cried over your breakup, but secretly was getting off on it.

She collapsed into me the moment she stepped inside, her fragile frame trembling as if the weight of her sorrow had finally become too much to bear. I caught her effortlessly, as if I had always been meant to, my arms wrapping around her without hesitation. She was so small like this, so breakable, and yet, she clung to me as though I were the only thing keeping her from falling apart entirely.

I settled her in my lap, letting her bury her face against my chest, her quiet sobs muffled against my suit. My fingers threaded through her hair, slow and deliberate, savoring the way she melted into my touch. She fit so perfectly here, as though she had always belonged in my arms.

"There, there," I murmured, my voice a soft lull, soothing, patient. "You’re safe now."

She shuddered at the word, pressing closer, gripping my jacket like a lifeline. Such a delicate thing, so desperate for comfort, for security. And she had come to me for it. Just as I knew she would.

I had warned her. Had spent countless hours listening to her, guiding her, gently nudging her toward the truth. That man had never deserved her. He had only ever caused her pain. And now, here she was, weeping in my arms, proving me right.

I tightened my hold on her, tilting my head down so my lips were close to her ear. "I told you, my dear," I whispered, my voice a quiet promise, a claim. "I would never abandon you like he did."

She didn’t pull away. Didn’t question it. She simply let herself sink deeper into me, into my warmth, into everything I had been so patiently offering her.

And God, if that wasn’t the most intoxicating thing of all. The way she nestled into me, completely unaware, her soft, warm body pressing so perfectly against mine. Every shudder, every shift, only made me grow harder—her delicate frame settling right over my bulge. She didn’t notice, too lost in her grief, too trusting, too utterly mine.

Yandere! Hannibal, who killed your ex and invited you into his home as if he did nothing.

She arrived at my door without memory of the decision to come, her body guiding her on instinct. I saw it in the way her frame sagged, the way her breath hitched unevenly, her red-rimmed eyes barely able to lift to meet mine. The moment I opened the door, her lips parted, voice ruined.

“Hannibal.”

The sight of her in distress, so utterly lost, sent a quiet thrill through me. But I said nothing at first. I merely stepped aside, allowing her entrance. She obeyed, stepping into the warmth of my home, though she looked as if she hardly felt it.

Her arms wrapped around herself as she stood just past the doorway, fragile, crumbling. "He's dead," she whispered. "They found him—my boyfriend. His head was on a fence. Just… stuck there. In the middle of nowhere."

I shut the door with a soft click, carefully hiding the satisfaction that curled in my chest.

"That's terrible," I said, smoothing my voice into something gentle, something she needed.

She let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "Yeah. Terrible." Her fingers brushed at her swollen eyes, sniffling. "I just… I don’t get it. Who does that?"

I took a slow step closer, allowing my presence to steady her. “Cruelty is often senseless,” I murmured. “But you shouldn’t let this consume you.”

She shook her head, lips pressing together, fighting another wave of emotion. "How am I supposed to just… move on from this?"

"You don't have to figure that out tonight." I reached for her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder, watching as she exhaled, accepting the comfort, needing it. "You need to eat. Come, sit with me for dinner."

She hesitated. Her stomach twisted—grief stealing her appetite, no doubt. But she was exhausted, vulnerable. She needed something to ground her, and so she followed.

The meal I had prepared sat warm and inviting before us, though she barely touched it. Her fork scraped against the plate, each bite an effort. Her body was weary, her hands shaking as she set the utensil down. Her lip trembled as she pressed her fingers into her lap, trying to control her breathing, trying not to break.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, voice cracking. "I—I can't stop crying. I feel so stupid. I don’t even know why I came here." A weak, bitter laugh left her. "I just… I didn't know where else to go."

How beautifully tragic. How utterly mine.

I took my time, dabbing at the corner of my mouth before setting my napkin aside. "There is no need to apologize," I said, calm, unwavering. "Grief isn't something to push down. You are allowed to feel this, especially here. You are safe with me."

Her pretty lips trembled further, her lashes wet with fresh tears. They spilled over before she could stop them, a choked laugh escaping her as she shook her head.

“God,” she sniffled, grabbing her napkin and dabbing at her face. “You must think I’m pathetic.”

I tilted my head, gaze steady. “Not at all,” I murmured.

A fragile smile attempted to grace her lips, though it barely held. She played with the fabric of her sleeve, her fingers delicate, uncertain. Slowly, she picked up her fork again, forcing herself to eat. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I leaned forward slightly, watching her closely.

“You don’t have to find out.”

The words wove themselves into the air between us, binding her tighter to me. If she weren’t so drained, so consumed by grief, perhaps she would have questioned them. Perhaps she would have felt the weight of my claim.

But instead, she only nodded, clinging to me as her anchor, unaware that I had already secured her in place.

Yandere! Hannibal who fucked any thought you had of your ex out of your head.

Her sobs were beautiful. Each one made her smaller in my arms, pressing closer, seeking comfort, seeking me. I held her as if she were fragile, my touch gentle, patient—calculated. She was unraveling, and I had known she would.

I had known she would come to me.

And now, here she was, breaking apart, utterly lost. My sweet girl. My perfect little dove. She lifted her head, glassy, swollen eyes searching for something, anything, that might make the pain lessen. I could see the moment it happened—the way her gaze faltered on my lips, how the realization hit her.

Yes, my dear. That’s it.

I had been guiding her to this, shaping her thoughts, her fears, her dependencies. Him—that waste of a man—was gone, and she was here, right where she belonged.

When she leaned in, uncertain but desperate, I met her halfway. My lips captured hers, firm and knowing, a promise sealed in the heat between us. She gasped into my mouth, and I swallowed the sound greedily, my fingers threading through her hair to keep her there.

She thought this was a mistake. A reckless, grief-fueled lapse in judgment.

She was wrong.

As our kiss deepened, it quickly unraveled into something messier, more desperate-a frantic clash of lips and breath as she melted into me.

"So good for me, angel," I murmured against her mouth, my voice dripping with approval. My hands found her hips, firm and possessive, guiding her as I pulled her into my lap. A satisfied hum rumbled in my chest as I pressed her down against me, ensuring she felt just how much I wanted her.

As our kiss deepened, it quickly unraveled into something messier, more desperate-a frantic clash of lips and breath as she melted into me.

"So good for me, angel," I murmured against her mouth, my voice dripping with approval. My hands found her hips, firm and possessive, guiding her as I pulled her into my lap. A satisfied hum rumbled in my chest as I pressed her down against me, ensuring she felt just how much I wanted her.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging gently as she rocked against me. A soft whimper escaped her lips, swallowed by our kiss. I could feel her trembling, begging for me.

Breaking away, I trailed heated kisses along her jaw, down her neck. Her pulse beating wildly beneath my lips. I nipped at the sensitive skin, drawing a gasp from her.

"Please," her voice barely above a whisper as Her nails scraped lightly down my back,

I growled low in my throat, my control slipping, Her eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with desire as she gazed up at me.

"Tell me what you want, angel," I commanded, my voice rough with need.

"Touch m-me," she pleaded breathlessly. " hurts s’bad." She slurred through whiney hiccups

I smirked, trailing my fingers teasingly along her sides. "Where does it hurt, sweetheart? Show me."

She whimpered, arching into my touch. Her hand grasped mine, guiding it lower, over the swell of her breast and down her stomach. My breath caught as she pressed my palm between her thighs, where I could feel the heat radiating through her clothes.

"Here," she whispered, her cheeks flushed. "Please-"

My hands slipped under her skirt, gently caressing her silky thighs. She shivered beneath my touch, her legs parting instinctively. I traced lazy circles on her inner thighs, inching higher with each pass.

"Is this what you need, angel?" I murmured, nipping at her earlobe.

She nodded frantically, her hips lifting off the bed, seeking more contact. "Yes, yes! please- don't stop."

I chuckled darkly, my fingers finally brushing against the damp lace of her panties. She gasped, her back arching beautifully.

"So wet for me already," I purred, applying the slightest pressure. Her hips bucked, chasing the friction. "Such a needy little girl."

I captured her lips in a searing kiss as I pushed her panties aside

My fingers found her slick folds, toying with her sensitive nub. She moaned into my mouth, her hips rocking desperately against my hand.

"Please," she whimpered between kisses. "I need more. Please, please..."

I circled her clit slowly, building the tension. Her nails dug into my shoulders as she writhed in my lap.

"What do you need, angel? Tell me," I commanded softly.

"Your fingers... inside... please," she panted, her eyes glazed with lust.

I smirked, enjoying her desperation. Slowly, torturously, I slipped one finger inside her tight heat. She cried out, her inner walls clenching around me.

All I could do was admire her beauty—the way her glassy eyes pleaded with me in silence as she clung to me, desperate and fragile in my arms.

"More," she begged shamelessly. "Please, I need more."

I added a second finger, curling them to hit that spot that made her see stars. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as pleasure coursed through her. My thumb circled her clit as I pumped my fingers in and out, building a steady rhythm.

"That's it, good- good girl," I murmured, watching her face contort in ecstasy. "Let go for me. Show me how good it feels."

Her hips rocked frantically against my hand, chasing her release. I could feel her getting close, her inner walls fluttering around my fingers.

"I'm- I'm so close," she gasped, her nails raking down my back.

I leaned down, capturing a nipple between my lips through the thin fabric of her shirt. The dual sensation pushed her over the edge. She came with a cry, her body tensing and shuddering

She panted softly as she came down from her high, her wide, doe-like eyes gazing up at me with a mix of gratitude and adoration

She was now totally under my control

[shegatsby]

Hey,

may I request a Hannibal soulmate au one-shot, where he has to touch his soulmate in order to see the world in colour. One day at the FBI headquaters Jack invites an FBI agent and friend from another state, to help with the case. While she‘s walking towards Jack she accidentaly brushes Hannibal and their world explodes in colour? After that he goes all out courting her

A/N Hi! Kept you waiting I knowww but I was going through a shitty break up. He did me dirty and he has to pay. Anyways enjoy! Love you all, im gonna be more consistent i promise.

Y/N got a ticket to Baltimore Maryland in a rush because her long time friend, the head of the FBI’s Maryland branch had requested her insights and expertise on the matter. There was a killer on the loose and he had already taken 3 lives. Jack wasn’t a man who usually would ask for help so if it came to that it means that the situation was getting out of control and it also means that if they can’t solve it soon the citizens of Maryland would protest, it would look bad on the FBI. She was thinking about these things as she was gazing around, she was used to seeing things in black and white, that’s what she was born with anyways so she wasn’t complaining. She had a can drive her to her hotel which FBI provided. After freshening up she decided to get few cups of coffee to make a good impression. There was a possibility that she might spend weeks with them. She remembered a café shop she used to go to so she called another cab and gave the address.

The café was the same which gave her comfort, she ordered 5 cups and as she was waiting she looked around her, couples drinking coffee together and eating dessert, if only she could see them in colors… over the years she had relationships but none of them were her soulmate of course they were nice but just nice nothing more. She was losing hope inside, maybe her soulmate had died before she could meet him, deep down she envied people who were in a soulmate bond, of course she had married friends and she could see that they were sorry for her which made her hate and detest this shoulmate bond, she found it useless and a myth. It had been years she stopped searching and she was having casual hook ups, just to satisfy her needs.  

‘’Thank you.’’ She smiled kindly to the barista and got the cup carrier and left the place, thankfully the driver waited for her to take her to the FBI quarters.

As she entered the building she was greeted by Alana Bloom, she had met Alana years ago and they never lost contact, ‘’I feel sorry to meet in such circumstances Y/N, but I’m glad you’re here.’’ She looked so professional every time Y/N saw her and it amazed her, Alana was a kind of woman who was always put together, professional and formal. Y/N just smiled and nodded at her comment, ‘’Here, I brought coffee.’’ Alana got one of the cups and drank as they got on the elevator, ‘’Hmm delicious.’’ They were making small conversation as the elevator door opened to Jack’s floor. ‘’How is he?’’ Y/N asked before entering the room, ‘’Pissed off.’’ She simply put it, just as Y/N thought. Alana opened the door to Jack’s office, he was placed on his black chair, in a suit. He had his colleagues he had mentioned in the email, Will Graham and Doctor Hannibal Lecter. They both stood up as they saw Elena and Y/N, ‘’Hi guys.’’ She greeted them, ‘’I brought coffee.’’

The one with the glasses she assumed Will huffed, ‘’I needed that.’’ And got his cup, extended one to  Jack, Doctor Lecter was a bit standing far so Y/N approached, ‘’Here you go.’’ She extended the cup, ‘’Thank you so much Ms. Y/L/N, I am Doctor Hannibal Lecter. It is a pleasure finally meeting you in flesh.’’ His smile was small, she noticed how formal he was and how dominant. As he raised his hand to get the cup from her their fingers lightly brushed and with that Y/N noticed the color of his eyes, deep maroon, and his brown suit, her eyes went wide in that moment, she felt something warm on her stomach, how was this possible? She could see colors after years of seeing everything and everyone black and white. That tiny moment felt like it lasted for eternity, they all heard Jack’s cough and turned to him, ‘’Thank you so much for coming Y/N, we appreciate you made time for us. Please take a seat.’’ At Jack’s kind words she was only able to nod and sit next to Doctor Lecter, the man who made her see colors. It was all so strange to her, did he experience the same thing or he could already see because his soulmate was someone else? It wasn’t easy to  read his face because he was good at putting on a mask, especially at work.

Jack Crawford gave everyone some files which consisted of pictures, addresses and analytics of medical examining of the victims. He then went on, explaining the whole situation but Y/N’s mind was somewhere else, this was the first time she couldn’t focus on her job which she loved.

The meeting lasted for 45 minutes, however for Hannibal it felt like a thousand years had past him by, he was startled by the sudden exchange of colors between him and Y/N, he wondered if she also experienced the same thing. During the meeting he had opportunity of observing her up close, thanks to his knowledge of the case he could just ignore Jack and completely deduce this young woman. She was wearing black pants, black high heels and a dark red turtle neck, she had light make up on, her hair was tied in an elegant way, she was sitting straight, her posture was one of the things he had noticed, he was a licensed psychiatrist so he could make a profile when he wanted to. She was definitely an independent woman who had to deal with a lot of things alone and yet she also had a certain femininity to her.

‘’Thank you for your time, you can contact me or any of my staff if you have any questions.’’ Jack’s last words were heard by everyone.

Hannibal Lecter was a man of calculation and then action, somehow he had to figure out if she had the same experience, ‘’Miss Y/N?’’ he found himself call out for her as she was about to leave, ‘’Yes doctor?’’ Y/N wanted to keep it professional, other members turned to them when they say them communicate, ‘’May we speak in private?’’ to his request she only nodded and walked up to him on the corridor, ‘’Tonight I am hosting a dinner party. Maybe Jack had mentioned before, I would love for you to join us.’’

She knew his dinner parties, they were famous. ‘’I would love to.’’ She responded in a calm and kindly manner, ‘’May I have your phone number so that I can send you my home address?’’ he asked, testing the waters. ‘’Of course.’’ And they exchanged numbers, ‘’See you tonight.’’ She smiled and turned to leave, Hannibal found himself watching her leave with a strange feeling hammering on his chest, it felt like a warm liquid.

It was 8.10, most of his guests arrived but his maroon eyes were searching for a particular dove, she reminded him of a pure white dove, elegant yet fragile. ‘’Looking for someone?’’ his fellow colleague Dr. Frederick Chilton snapped Hannibal from his thoughts, ‘’Frederick, thank you for coming.’’ And they started to make small talk when he saw her.

She walked in holding her head high, a tight black dress surrounding her divine body, her red lips made him bit his bottom lip.

‘’Excuse me Frederick.’’ He said without even looking at him and his legs moved to her, ‘’Good evening.’’ He announced himself, ‘’Hello doctor.’’ She smiled warmly and he felt the same thing on his chest again, ‘’Excuse me but I have to say, you look ravishing on that dress.’’ And he saw the pink blush covering her cheeks, ‘’Thank you.’’ She looked at him up and down, noticing his three piece expensive suit. ‘’You don’t look so bad.’’ She replied which earned her a wide smile from him, ‘’Please, join us.’’ He guided her, his hand on the small of her back.

He gracefully introduced her to his colleagues, together they ate and drank, she liked the sparkling conversations she had, she found herself wanting to join more of his dinner parties. She had time to observe him in his home, being a host and she like dhow assertive and dominant he was. He was in control of everything and did it so calmly that she wanted to spend more time with him. Now that she could see the colors, tonight was something special for her not knowing he felt the same way.

When the guests left Y/N found herself being the only one who is sitting next to her and drinking an old wine, having a conversation of art and literature. They didn’t have the same taste because Hannibal loved baroque she admired impressionism but they could see from each others’ point of view. His hand was on her knee as they laughed together and she could feel her stomach turning in an exciting way, ‘’Oh, I do apologies, I wouldn’t want to cross the line.’’ He pulled his hand back but Y/N did something she shocked herself… she held his hand and placed it back on her knee. Hannibal, in that moment he knew that she had the same feelings towards him.

‘’Be careful, once I hold.. I won’t let go.’’ Hannibal said with a dark tone, ‘’What if I don’t want you to let go.’’ She replied back. Looking under her eyes. He smiled wickedly and leaned in to give her a kiss.

Thank you for reading. :)

[storiesforallfandoms]

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)

(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.

[lynette-m-roses]

𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝕺𝖇𝖘𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓

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.

[daisies-on-a-cup]

i loveee post-fall fics but im not sure i could ever write a serious one bc the only way will could ever stand to be with hannibal Like That would be if they dexter 2.0'd it and even then will would struggle to accept that and hannibal would come to LOATHE it, because at the end of the day will likes justice and hannibal likes the decadence, and i really don't think either would be satisfied with a life that's just them killing "bad guys" to satisfy will's sense of justice and hannibal's divine bloodlust. and i really think it would culminate into hannibal snapping and will leaving him as a result, which would simultaneously be a relief for them both (burden of being seen and judged gone) but also be the same problem all of seasons 1-3 presented which is that they truly find each other interesting and pleasant to be around (in love) and would prefer if they could be together

[chronicroderick]

Old Games

Hannibal has been manipulative because he's bored and provokes Will into taking matters into his own hands.

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.

-----

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

[tethered-heartstrings]

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

[honeygrahambitch]

Hannibal's outfits in the first episode....are.... horrendous. I will never move past it

[dolicekiss]

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.

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.

[whipitgod]

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.”

[mizutsugi]

i need a hannibal washing will’s hair fic pretty please🙏

in safe hands ⊹ (hannigram)

↳request!

↳word count: 1,370

↳cw: sfw, mentions of blood/murder, non-sexual nudity

↳a/n: i had no idea what to do for this and then BOOM i was cooking on my laptop at like 1 am... this is vaguely inspired by when hannibal washed bedelias hair in s3, and also when will came to hannibals house that one time and had a "mild" seizure (i mean, he said it was mild)...hope this fulfills your vision! thanks for the request :)

Will looked down at his hands, trembling and drenched in crimson dried blood. He was shaking in a panicked state, unsure how exactly he ended up on Hannibal’s doorstep. He must have knocked, or made some sort of noise, because the door opened. Hannibal materialized in a white button up and slacks, appearing to have just started getting ready for bed. He observed the boy, shaking and disgruntled while covered in blood, and he ushered him in, glancing behind Will’s shoulder to make sure no one had seen him in such a state. Will entered the foyer, starting to stammer while Hannibal closed the door.

“I-I don’t… I don’t know how I got here.” Will stuttered out, unable to lift his gaze from his hands.

“You are covered in blood, Will. Do you know who it belongs to?” Hannibal asked, used to Will’s occasional lapses of time. He knew better to coddle him, but he still walked to Will and pulled his jacket off, leaving him in a blood stained flannel. Will didn’t even notice, but he had blood all over his clothes, face and hair, too. He reached up to Will's face and gently pulled his glasses off the bridge of his nose, watching him shudder both at the touch and the sight of more blood, spattered on his lens. 

“I… I don’t…Oh my god.” He stammered. He truly couldn’t remember what happened. He knew he was at a crime scene with Jack and Bev, but that was as much as his mind could draw back up. 

“Will…” Hannibal grabbed Will’s shoulders, attempting to ground him as he continued to shake like a nervous dog. “Will?” 

Will’s eyes flicked up to Hannibals, pupils blown in panic. 

“Follow me.” Hannibal ordered Will, letting go of his shoulders and walking towards his master bathroom. Will summoned all the energy he could expel to move his feet, shoes still laced to his feet as he shuffled behind Hannibal. Hannibal opened the door to his grand bathroom, marble tiles leading up to a porcelain tub. Will followed him in as he turned the tap on, plugging the drain and allowing the hot water pouring in the tub to gather at the bottom. Hannibal opened a glass vial of bath salts that was sitting on the edge of the tub, pouring them in. He turned to Will, who watched him with vacant eyes and was gripping his own shoulders, attempting to stop the tremors. 

“Can I undress you?” Hannibal asked, approaching him. Normally, Will would be extremely uncomfortable with the situation and give a firm ‘no”, but he wasn’t exactly himself at the moment. He watched steam rise from the tub, dancing in the air behind Hannibal’s back, and wanted nothing more then to wash every crevice of his body until he couldn’t feel the painfully tacky blood on himself. Just the thought of it momentarily stopped the impulsive movements under skin, and that brief feeling of peace was enough for him to nod his head in permission. 

Hannibal kneeled down, pulling at the tight laces on Will’s shoes until they came undone, allowing him to pull them off entirely. He then gingerly unbuttoned Will’s flannel until he reached the bottom of the garment, then pulled at the edges back until it fell off, leaving him in a plain white fitted tee. He then took the bottom of the shirt and pulled it upward so that it dragged up Will’s chest and over his face, leaving him only in his pants and socks. Hannibal pulled Will’s belt out of the loop, removing it with a tug. When he reached for the top of Will’s pants, Will’s hand flung to his own, holding it there and preventing further efforts to undress him. Hannibal looked up to Will, who was nervously shaking his head. Hannibal nodded in silent understanding, walking past the other and facing the wall to let him finish on his own. After a few moments Will was sinking into the tub, allowing the silky water to pour over his form. The salts colored the liquid a soft white, offering Will some peace in being relatively covered. Some of his dignity was left, after all.

To Hannibal, though, there was no indignity in being nude. Many of his drawings included the nude form, and it was never something that was inherently sexual to him. Either way, he waited until the sloshing of the water died and turned around, observing Will as his eyes locked on the tap, watching the water pour out of the nozzle. He knelt down beside the tub, turning the tap off once the tub was about three quarters of the way full. Will’s gaze remained glued forward, his mind still racing. He was unconsciously trying to regain some sort of memory, though it was yielding no results. Hannibal pulled a washcloth out of a nearby cabinet and squeezed some ivory body wash out of a nearby pump attached to the wall, allowing it to sink into the spongy material before dipping it into the water. He began to lightly drag the cloth up the exposed skin of Will’s shoulder, causing the other to jump at the impact. His trance broke, and he watched as Hannibal slowly cleaned him. 

“Will, I want you to try to remember what happened.” Hannibal asked quietly, dipping the now bloodied cloth back into the water before dragging it over the stiff muscle of Will’s back. Will closed his eyes, attempting to activate his mind enough to recall the past four hours. 

“I didn’t… I was at a scene in Reston. I was there to consult the case. There was… a family.” Will recalled, eyes remaining closed while Hannibal rolled up his sleeves to dip his hand into the tub, cleaning Will’s chest. 

“Were they already dead?” Hannibal prodded, gently scrubbing the dried blood off Will’s collar. He shuddered at the closeness, squeezing his eyes shut harder. 

“Yes, they um… They were killed. Murdered. By…” Will paused, mentally probing for a photo, a name, anything. Hannibal waited patiently, finishing cleaning his torso. He reached for another pump, shampoo falling into his palm. Will opened his eyes, watching as Hannibal lathered the shampoo in his hands. 

“It was a man. Uh, Henry. His name is Henry.” Will recalled, Hannibal digging his fingers in Will’s scalp. He groaned at the touch, feeling the digits drag over his head in a way that made his back slide down a bit, melting into the tub. Hannibal cupped his hand and dipped it into the water, pouring the liquid over Will’s head as he washed the red-tinted suds out of Will’s hair. 

“Was Henry there? Did you shoot him?” Hannibal asked, now reaching for the conditioner. The hair wash smelled like a light musk with a hint of barley, and as Will physically relaxed, he felt his memory slowly come back to him. 

“I…” He hesitated, not wanting to confront the truth that had suddenly hit him. Hannibal halted, holding his hands over Will’s head, waiting for him to confess. 

“I did.” He whispered huskily, and Hannibal, unphased, dipped his fingers back into Will’s hair. He ran his fingers through the small curls, delicately rubbing the silky-smooth conditioner into his scalp. 

“I need to go… I have to go back. I need to go.” Will gripped the edges of the tub, attempting to push himself out. Hannibal looped his fingers tightly into Will’s hair, keeping him stationary. Will’s heart raced with panic, but when Hannibal continued his massaging, he felt himself torn between complete peace and complete anxiety. 

“There’s no use going into the unknown without clothes on and soapy hair. Let me finish and I’ll come with you.” Will hummed, feeling drops of water falling down his forehead as Hannibal washed the conditioner out. “Jack will understand whatever you have done, especially if I am there to help explain.” Will nodded at the sound logic, allowing the other to finish cleansing him of the blood. Hannibal took care of him, knowing that whatever Will had done, he was acting in his best and truest nature. Knowing he chose to come to his door for protection meant that he already had.

↳a/n: for getting my second to last final done and whipping out an academic essay, my special treat was to write and post two fics in the same day... my mind is a WEAPON!! hope everyone is staying warm and having a lovely day/night <3

[ni-idea-07]

Requests open.

Fandoms.

-DC.

-Marvel

-Hannibal (series)

-Resident Evil

-Pretty little liars.

-Banana fish

-Tokyo revengers

What I could do.

-Character x Reader

- nsfw

- Platonic relationships

- hcs

- one-shots

- Lesbian, gay and polyamorous relationships.

- Scenarios +18 or +21

-Non-con

What I would NOT do

- Incest.

The truth is I am not that strict with the requirements and I think nothing bothers me so much.

I say goodbye with a cordial greeting. 🫠

[shegatsby]

Hello

Could I request this idea where Hannibal goes to see the “Swan Lake” ballet and becomes obsessed with the reader who plays the swan queen

Let me know what you think of the idea

A/N: Hi!!! Thank you for this request. Thanks to you I've watched the Black Swan on youtube here is the link;

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9rJoB7y6Ncs&t=1561s

this is the old version ofc. Love you all xxx

Doctor Hannibal Lecter climbed out of his car and headed towards to the building. Tonight was a special night because he was going to see The Swan Lake, it was a big production and last time he watched it was in Italy, this time he was in Baltimore, Maryland due to his work. He was excited for tonight, he liked being among high society, he was a classist who believed that people who belong to the upper class should have the higher power in politics and other aspects of life. He had grown up in this environment and to his bones he felt a sophisticated gentleman. He was well educated, he had a profound knowledge of art and literature, he respected all his life and he rewarded himself with treats such as opera nights or ballet such as tonight.

He was wearing his tuxedo, black and white with a dark red handkerchief on his jacket’s pocket. He slowly approached to the building, the entrance had red carpet, the doors with golden handles were opened for him, he smiled kindly to the workers. ‘’May I see your ticket?’’ the young lady at the front desk, ‘’Here you go.’’ He liked having tickets, or tangible things in his life. He liked living analog, of course he didn’t denied how technology made his life easier than before. ‘’You may proceed.’’ The lady smiled but didn’t reach her eyes, most workers had the same expression due to the fact that they worked minimum wage or even under. It was the way of the world, some were more fortunate than others.

The seats were dark red, he took his place. He looked around to see the dress code, everyone wore clothes accordingly which pleased him. He took a certain joy in order and people following it. The upper class he belonged to had always followed rules like these but for the other… they were the ones who would like to be ‘’different’’ and rebel against the system.

He crossed his legs as the lights dimmed and curtain opened, as soon as the music hit his ears he smiled to himself. The seat next to his was empty, for a split second he envisioned a woman next to him, wearing a dress he had chosen for her…. No. he stopped himself and focused on the stage.

Soon the Queen Swan entered the stage and Hannibal felt his breath hitching at his throat, she was wearing the same white dress as other women but she had a dark red feather sticking from her tied hair, she was the queen and they needed to show it to the audience. Her movements on stage were so elegant, without realizing Hannibal leaned forward on his seat, he couldn’t believe his dark eyes, she had total control of her delicate body which he admired and found it very powerful.

When the first act ended he immediately got his phone, ordered a bouquet of black and white tulips that had a red rose in the middle. He wanted the bouquet to represent the Black Swan and also the Queen Swan. He also wrote a note and asked the delivery guy to bring it to the Queen’s dressing room.

The ballet lasted for an hour and half, later he was approached by the director of the ballet, Lisa-Macuja Elizalde, he bowed in front of her. ‘’For an hour and 30 minutes I have experienced pure bliss. Thank you so much for your contribution Madame.’’ He kissed her hand, the woman smiled with pride. ‘’You’re welcome Sir. I’ve heard that you had sent flowers to our queen. Would you like to meet her?’’ with this question he couldn’t hide the grin he had. ‘’I would love to.’’

‘’Follow me please.’’

He followed her to the back stage, it was crowded, together they approached a door which didn’t have her name on it, on the door it said ‘’The Queen Swan’’ was she show off? Only one way to find out. Madame knocked on the door and they heard a soft voice say ‘’Come in.’’

She was sitting in front of the mirror, her make-up off, she had a long satin black nightgown, her hair was still tied with the dark red feather sticking out. She got up with a swift move, turned to them. ‘’Doctor Lecter?’’ she asked because the note she had on flowers had his name. ‘’Yes,’’ he extended his hand which she gladly took. ‘’I would love to learn the name of this enchanting Swan Queen, If you don’t mind of course.’’ He kissed her hand, ‘’Y/N, Y/L/N.’’

‘’Y/N… such a unique name.’’ he praised, ‘’Thank you.’’

Hannibal was an observant man and during this interaction he carefully watched her, Madame Lisa-Macuja Elizalde left them alone she excused herself because she had to attend to some of the dancers.

Hannibal and Y/N sat on the velvet couch and talked about ballet, classical music and fine arts. He never had such an elite and uplifting conversation with anyone and at the back of his dark mind he could hear his wicked thoughts such as;

Where does she live?

Is her home safe?

Most importantly… does she have a partner?

How long has she been performing?

Hannibal, deep down, knew that it was over for them both because she belonged to him now. He was going to make sure she had no one to go to but him at the end.

Thank you for reading. :)