#i love hannibal because it gives me license to be pretentious

[homesoutofhuman]

Scarlet- Hannibal X Reader Part 2

A/N: I’m beyond touched by the comments on the first part of this story, I never thought something so dark and deep from my head would resonate with anyone else so here is another part, hope I didn’t mess it up, this is such a tricky subject.

Summary: You’re seeing a psychiatrist, Dr Lecter for your issues with sex, loneliness and hyperfixatons. Will he be your cure, or have you just met the man who will only make things worse?

Warnings: D/S themes, choking, slapping, smut...also this is way too long.

Hannibal opens the door to you and stands to the side so that as you walk by him into his office you’re forced to brush against his chest. You look up to find him watching you closely, analysing you. He shuts the door with a sharp noise and grabs your hand, bringing it to his nose and taking a deep inhale.

You stand, rooted to the spot, feeling your heart thundering in your chest. He releases your hand and shakes his head at you in judgement, and you avoid his gaze, thinking of every night since your text conversation that you’ve been furiously trying to get yourself off in the hope of quenching your insatiable hunger for this man. (You’re not sure if Hannibal is smelling your blood or your arousal, or both.)

From his boldness in touching you, you assume that he will bring up the incident straight away, but he follows his usual routine of asking about your week, an attempt to break the ice on previous sessions, but today an attempt to break the heated tension.

It doesn’t work. Having him so near to you, looking taller and broader than ever in an expensive tweed suit, the purples and reds if the fabric bringing out the tawny streaks in his eyes, is torture. You fidget in your seat while Hannibal scratches his pen against his pad, monitoring your nervous movements. Suddenly you’re angry.

“Dr Lecter…”

He doesn’t look up.

“Hannibal….” you whine, a desperate noise from the back of your throat, the kind you’ve been making every night this week.

His eyes are on you then. “Yes we should discuss…” he trails off and you pray he won’t apologise, please anything but that.

”...it was unprofessional of me and I have considered transferring you to another psychiatrist.” You wince but he continues steadily, either not observing or not caring to relieve your pain. “In my defence I find myself drawn to you, find you alluring, and I suspect my...proclivities, would align with yours.

“That’s how I was feeling” you whisper, voice tiny. Not daring to trust he is really agreeing with you

“You failed in your assignment.” he nods towards your hands which lay in your lap. Instinctively you clench them together as if in prayer.

“What do you think about? When you pleasure yourself?”

“You.” You say, staring down the barrel of the truth, adrenaline making you brave. “You fucking me.”

Hannibal raises an eyebrow and then you know for sure he is Lucifer in disguise when he calmly responds, “I need more detail than that (Y/N).”

He asked for it. “It’s rough, you’re always fully dressed. Sometimes you rip my clothes. You hurt me…”

Hannibal looks intrigued, and you crave his interest more than any drug.  “How do I hurt you?”

“Choke me, slap me, degrade me by pushing me on my knees.”

“Why do you think you want that from me?”

“I don’t know.”

“I could slap you.”

“Pardon?”

Hannibal moves to sit next to you on the couch. “An unorthodox method but I’ve found those to be effective. I will slap you lightly so you get a taste of what you think you want, then you’ll see, without the mystique it’s nothing so erotic.”

The way he says the word...erotic, you cannot help but sigh. If only he knew, his voice is so much of what turns you on, his accent with it’s smooth purr- a combination of clipped vowels and rich tones, a contradiction so like the man himself - pristine suits with a wild animal inside.

You nod, and he ducks his head to look into your eyes, making sure you are consenting. The angle brings his mouth close to yours, if you tipped forward just an inch you could kiss him. Hannibal seems to be having the same thought, his eyes suddenly dark, flick to your mouth.

“If you think about it, kissing is such an odd behaviour for humans to show affection. Why not, some other way?” his voice is velvet but his touch even softer, Hannibal brings a finger to your cheek and traces a line down to your chin, the path a tear would take.

“I’m sure there’s some...scientific explanation.” you reply, trying to follow the conversation

“Oh there is...apparently it helps us sniff out the perfect mate…”

“And do you like the smell of me?” you joke, an old habit, trying to break the tightness of the moment.

Hannibal brings his nose to your throat, taking an even deeper inhale than before. “You smell of bedsheets and cheap gin...loneliness if that’s not taking poetic license. It’s divine.”

You feel his tongue on your skin and have no choice but to close your eyes, even though you want to see, you want to be aware this is actually happening and not another of your fevered dreams.

“Are you going to hurt me, Hannibal?”

“Only a little…”

He cradles your head with one large palm and you nuzzle it briefly. His mouth quirks with a smile even as he scolds you gently. “Focus now.”

A stab of fear before you tell yourself, he’s a doctor, he knows what he’s doing. When he slaps you it doesn’t even hurt - the base of his fingers hitting the fleshy part of your cheek, perfectly planned to be benign it’s just a taste, a warning. Still, the flash of sensation is alarming, nothing you’ve ever felt before and it’s exhilarating to feel something new, a staccato on the frequency after years of monotone.

Hannibal is waiting for your response, his body language is tense, and you can tell that you’ve finally cracked that outer shell of his. The man has shown you a side of himself he normally keeps hidden from the world, and now you have the power, the thrill of it is intoxicating.

Holding his gaze you see him take a deep breath, beginning to panic, to cover for his actions. “Ow.” you say simply, bringing your fingers to touch where your skin sings with the warmth of his violence.

Hannibal gapes at you, then starts to chuckle, low and deep and you join him until you’re both laughing loud, the noise echoing around his office.

“What are you?” he murmurs, pressing those thin lips against your reddened cheek. You give an allowance for things lost in translation.

“Just like you.”

“Not like me, you’re, the other side of the coin to me.” Hannibal tilts his head and you see more than a psychiatrists fascination in his eyes. You feel like a butterfly pinned to a board, struggling to survive. It’s liberating.

“You desire me Hannibal, you admitted it yourself….” you dare to move closer, placing your smaller hand on top of his, bring your lips up to the elegant shell of his ear, “scarlet” you whisper and he grasps your hand, giving it a tight almost painful squeeze.

“We could take this treatment to it’s inevitable conclusion.” he says, voice hoarse even as he continues to try and sound professional. Hannibal clears his throat, annoyed at its betrayal and you hide a smile at his reluctance to appear weak. Despite his attempts to the contrary, he’s still just a man.

Your eyes stray to a picture on the wall of his office, the large gilt frame, the flesh of the girl, the feathers of the bird. It’s pure erotic violence makes you grasp at Hannibal’s shoulder, the fabric of his suit jacket unyielding and rough. You need to feel his skin to know he is human and you lay back, opening your legs like Leda.

“Are you going to take me on your couch Hannibal?”

He leans over you, pushing up your flimsy skirt and splaying his fingers over your thighs, clutching them hard enough to leave marks. Your head lolls back against the cushions, exposing your throat to him. Hannibal collars it with the web of his hand, his thumb tapping your carotid artery, his forefinger stroking your jaw.

“Show me….”

“Hmm?” You can feel yourself slipping already, your head growing dizzy as he restricts your oxygen. Hannibal loosens his grip and you slide your hand down your body and into your underwear, not even bothering to protest.

Hannibal moves to get a better view, pushes your head back against the cushions using his hand on your neck and stares into your eyes, watching them grow hazy with pleasure as you rub yourself wantonly.

He takes your hand from between your legs, brings it to his mouth and slides his tongue across the side of your fingers, tasting you. Then he replaces it, directing you with his strong grip, pushing two of your own fingers inside you. Your eyes widen and you gasp, wishing they were his. Hannibal appears to read your mind and nods, his face a mimic of sympathy.

“You think you want me instead?”

“I know I do…” your words are each a single moan as you never stop touching yourself. You’re sweating onto the velvet of his couch and you just don’t care.

“I’m not sure you’re ready for that…”

You make a noise of protest, attempt to reach out and touch him to show you are, but Hannibal keeps you captive, one hand encircling your wrist, fucking you with your own fingers, the other back at your throat.

“Watch what I’m doing...what you’re doing. This sexual act makes us like animals, no better, no worse. Does that bring you comfort?”

You can barely make a sound with him cutting off your airway but force a groan from your throat, ripping it raw. Nothing could be more humiliating than the way he is treating you, and yet you continue, touch yourself just the way you know will make you come hard, but it never felt like this, so visceral, so dangerous, with Hannibal above you, over you, threatening your life and sanity.

“Let it go….” he whispers into your ear, giving your neck one final wring as your body arches violently off the couch, the convulsions spasm your muscles so hard you fear they will be torn.  You hear Hannibal breathing hard beside you as you give in to the darkness, rolling your head on the cushions and moaning as if struck with fever. He relinquishes his grasp on you and lifts you into a more comfortable position, brings you a glass of water and helps you to drink, one hand on the back of your neck, supporting you like a newborn kitten. Slumping against him you pray he won’t push you away, and he doesn’t, lets you rest your head in his lap as he strokes your hair, making soothing noises, almost a lullaby, in a language you don’t recognise.

You turn your head to look up at his handsome profile, whispering, not trusting your voice “What are you saying?”

“Oh, you don’t speak Lithuanian?” Hannibal regards you with wry amusement and you laugh, the tension broken. “Don’t you worry...it doesn’t translate.”

“Teach me…” you urge, feeling soft and boneless, pressing your cheek against the cool metal of his belt.

“Not now…” Hannibal replies gently. “Your hour is almost up.”

Suddenly reality hits you like a cold flinch of water and you sit up, your head spinning. Hannibal grunts with displeasure and steadies you, pulling you back into his arms for a moment. His eyes flick to your mouth and you pray he will kiss you at last, but he resists, instead helping you up and towards the door.

“Next week?” you croak, flushing to realise your throat is sore both from screaming with pleasure and from Hannibal’s choke hold.

He nods and you back out of the room, lifting a hand to wave at him, you wish to signal peace in the motion. When you get to your car you sit for a few minutes, stunned. You press the knuckles of your hands under your eyes and wish you could cry, crave the release of  that pure, innocent emotion. You feel like you’ve left everything behind on Hannibal’s couch, and the emptiness is not as terrifying as you may have imagined.

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A/N the second: I’ve taken poetic license and put Hannibal’s dining room art in his office (he likes to mix it up). Also I did find a Lithuanian lullaby that is beautiful so I imagine that is what Hannibal was half-singing to her but we shall see...

Shit I forgot the tags! @diditpoof @johnwickthirstclub @thatlittlered @keanuincollars I’m tagging peeps who either asked or I would appreciate your feedback (but don’t worry if not), anyone else wanna be tagged lemme know ILY