#Mads Mikkelsen Oneshot

[witcher-and-henry-cavill-stuff]

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.

#x reader #one shot #dark #obsessive yandere #obsession #hannibal oneshot #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #agnst #captive #Mads Mikkelsen #Mads Mikkelsen x reader #Mads Mikkelsen Oneshot

[coryosbaby]

You fog up my brain, you make me insane… Hannibal Lecter x fem! Reader

Synopsis: examining your shared obsession

content warning . 18+, MDNI oral fixations, codependency, heavy biting kink, mentions of cannibalism. Blood, teeth, and body worship

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Hannibal opens his mouth for her whenever she asks. Nimble, soft padded fingertips touch the tip of his tongue and move even further. Over his teeth, the expanse of his gums. She rubs her tongue over her own canines in retaliation. The urge to bite into him is so incredibly chastising.

She almost does it, a few times. When his throat is close, she leaves a few marks. Her teeth sink into him and leave a clear indent, though she vows never to reveal muscle, blood, or bone. Her hands run through his hair, and she douses her own in his shampoo when she’s in the shower. His nails are clipped short; she bites hers clear down to the nub. He tells her to kiss him, and she does— teeth biting his lip, tongue roaming that mouth she loves oh so much. Close to drawing blood, but not quite.

Until he tells her to. One mindless, rainy night, her body is sprawled out on top of his, thighs on either side of his hips. The ribbon in her hair is the only thing you could consider covering her. And him, the rings adorning his fingers. His bare chest is enticing, and she leaves sweet lipstick prints along the skin. He soothes her heated neck with his hand, proving coolness and relief. She runs her blunt nails through the hair peppering his chest.

“I want to crawl inside your skin and never leave.” She mumbles, her face nuzzling him.

He doesn’t find this to be scary, or vile. He feels exactly the same way, and nods along. He trails a finger up her hip and back down again.

“I would let you,” and then, as his nose moves up to nuzzle her own, “you’re special.”

Her lashes flutter and she sighs in content. His arms wrap around her back and he pulls her down to his lips. When he kisses her, it’s on the cheeks, forehead, and nose.

“My special girl.”

A small smile, pouty lips kissing him right back. She grabs his much larger hand into her own, presses his wrist to her lips and feels the heartbeat underneath the skin.

He licks his lips and guides her hand to his torso, settling right above his navel.

“Bite me here,” he murmurs, and she lets out a tiny squeak.

“What?”

“Here. Bite me here, I want to feel your teeth.”

She can never deny him, and she would never dare question him. She moves lower so her head is face to face with his waist. Her teeth scrape against his flesh, tasting sweat and skin.

Hannibal. She tastes Hannibal.

She bites, hard. The older man below her lets out a groan, feeling her break the skin and draw red rivulets of blood, finally.

She’s no vampire, of course. But his blood fills something in her— a completion. A promise.

When she pulls away, her teeth are red. The large indentation on his skin makes her rut down against his thigh. Her fingers slip against the wound as she adjusts— a happy little accident. She presses them into his mouth and feels the soft expanse of his tongue and his teeth. He stares up at her as he sucks them. He releases them from his mouth with a lewd pop, inhaling through his teeth. She tilts her head, almost in awe of him.

“You’re beautiful.” she says timidly.

He smiles softly.

“And you’re perfect, you know,” he replies. “Anyone would be a fool not to worship you, darling.”

Heat creeps up her neck, and when the man reaches up to tug the pink ribbon out of her hair, she whines.

“It took me forever to do my hair like this!” she exclaims.

“Mmm..” Hannibal replies, and looks at her hair, as if examining. “I already ruined it when I was fucking you, don’t you think?”

She flushes. The man below her begins wrapping the ribbon around her head. Her brows furrow, but not before they’re raising as he slips the ribbon into her mouth and gags her with it.

“Need to muzzle you good, don’t I? Since you love biting me so much.”

He watches the way her drool begins soaking through the fabric. Seeing her distraught face, he coos, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, sweet girl. But you need to be controlled, disciplined,” and then, “You know I only want what’s best for you.”

She whimpers, hips grinding down onto his crotch. He’s hard now, leaking and ready to slip inside her, and that he does. Spreading her cheeks apart, his tip probes her already filled hole. He had fucked her an hour before, filled her to the brim with his seed, and now he intends to do it again.

He sheathes inside in one go. Her eyes roll back, clit throbbing as he flattens his feet on the bed and thrusts up. Her body falls forward, causing him to bury his face into her collarbone, and he grunts against her. She feels something sharp against her shoulder— teeth.

He bites down, hard. She lets out a yell, feeling him sink into her skin. He has surely drawn blood, because when he pulls away his lips are stained red.

“See?” He asks her, licking his lips. “Now we match, lover. It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

Tears fall down her cheeks, and she nods. It is perfect.

It’s even more perfect when Hannibal uses the strength of his hips to turn the girl onto her back. She lets out a mewl, and with his cock still in her, Hannibal grabs her roughly by her thighs as he’s on his knees. Her back arches as he pulls her legs over his own, fucking her down onto his thick length. He grabs the soft expanse of her waist, grunting as he watches her tits jiggle with every thrust.

“That’s it,” he breathes, as she squirms underneath him. “Such an obedient girl for me.”

She doesn’t know where to put her hands, so with her most basic instinct she presses them on top of Hannibal’s own. He grabs them, holding them against her skin and cooing.

“I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

These words comfort her, bring a relief to her fuzzy brain, and she needs him closer. Closer, closer, closer.

She pulls his hands towards her, signaling for him to move. He moves forward, pressing himself against her body.

“I don’t want to crush you,” he says, and she bites her lip.

“I do.”

He does anything she asks, really. He puts all of his weight on her, lets her nails rake down his back and draw blood. She sinks her teeth into him more, rubs the blood on her lips and kisses him. He licks into her mouth and when he pulls away it’s so he can spit onto her tongue. She swallows it greedily, her heels pressing into his hips as he pounds her mercilessly. One hand moves to her clit, rubbing it deftly between his fingers, and his other hand goes to her throat, which he lightly squeezes.

“Look at you,” he praises, watching her lidded eyes. “So pretty and pliant for me. So beautiful.”

“Hanni—“ she starts, but it’s cut off as her orgasm rapidly approaches. “I’m gonna cum—“

“Cum for me,” Hannibal growls. “Cum for me, gorgeous. Fucking soak me.”

That’s all the command she needs. She seizes up, whimpers loudly as she reaches her peak, her eyes rolling back as she cries out his name. Hannibal watches with a small smile, but not before the clenching of her orgasming cunt has his mouth falling open as he gives two final, harsh thrusts. He spills into her with his teeth on her neck, fucks his cum into her, warm and wet.

She milks him for all he has. Her cunt takes his spend greedily, spilling over the rim of her hole and onto the sheets. Hannibal stays inside for a moment to catch his breath, deciding to collapse onto her. Not that she minds; he isn’t that heavy, and she likes the weight of him. He buries his face in her neck and sighs, absolutely spent.

“My darling girl.” he murmurs, as if in a trance. She hums a timid reply, her fingers curling into his graying locks. He kisses her on the jugular. She kisses him on the forehead. He means everything to her.

“My darling boy.” She replies. He chuckles, lifting his head and kissing her on the mouth again. She bites his bottom lip teasingly and worries the skin in between her teeth. It draws more blood, and she licks it up with her tongue.

When Hannibal pulls away, his cock slips out of her. She feels his cum dripping out of her entrance, but she ignores it. Instead, she opts for curling up on his chest again, her leg slung over his hip and her hand rubbing over the bite mark she had given him. He grabs her wrist, slipping her index finger into his mouth and suckling. She runs the pad of it over his teeth, a little crooked but absolutely perfect to her.

When she falls asleep, fingers in his mouth, she’s never been more satiated.

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy

#bunny writes #Hannibal #Hannibal lecter #Hannibal lecter x fem! reader #Hannibal lecter x reader #Hannibal lecter smut #Hannibal lecter blurb #Hannibal lecter drabble #Hannibal lecter oneshot #Hannibal lecter fanfic #Hannibal fanfic #hannibal nbc #mads mikkelsen

[voxmortuus]

Yooo! Lol I’m here to make a small request maybe just to see how you think Hannibal would handle a situation lol like literally just a Drabble would be fine 🫶🏼

Alright, what would he say if his S/O (male pref) asked him “Would you still love me if I was a worm?” Bonus points if his S/O asks stupid questions like this all the time so he’s used to it, LMAO poor Hannibal

►PAIRING: Hannibal X Male!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Hannibal ►WORDS: 1.6k ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: See Above. ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: No warnings | I may be missing some, but you get a general idea, so please proceed with caution if there is anything in there that is overly triggering please let me know politely and I will make sure it is added to the list. ►NOTE: Hannibal and Hannibal Character requests are closed. All other requests are open. Sorry if this isn't what you expected, or had envisioned yourself, I apologize. But I hope you enjoyed my vision. ►DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa

"No. I gotta know! If I was a worm, would you still love me?" you ask.

Shaking his head with a chuckle he thinks a moment. "But what if I was a bird, I'd eat the worm."

"That's not the question nor a valid answer."

"Oh but it is, what if I was the bird that ate the worm."

"You're no fun." you pout a moment.

He chuckles and he watches you a moment. Putting some thought into it he tilts his head. "Well I'd make sure you'd have a nice little compost pile... only the best foods."

"That's better. So, how do you think you'd handle me if I was a puddle of putty?" you ask.

He tilts his head and shakes it again with a slight chuckle. "Where are these questions coming from?" he asked you.

With a rather proud smile. "They came from my brain place. Now. Back to the putty question."

#hannibal x male reader #Hannibal x m!reader #hannibal imagine #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #hannibal fluff #hannibal angst #hannibal smut #hannibal lecter imagine #Hannibal oneshot #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter angst #hannibal lecter #hannibal #hannibal nbc #hannibal netflix #mads mikkelsen #VoxMortuus #my fanfiction #my story #my fanfic writing #fan fiction #fanfiction #smutty smut smut #my oc #my fanfic stuff #my writing

[yokichikun]

Hannibal x virgin reader who's anxious about intimacy! 💝

Heyo! Haru here! Thank you so much for the request! I hope you’ll like it because it’s been a while since I wrote something serious!

Content warning: sexual content.

I used the neutral gender for this fanfic to make everyone more comfortable.

Love u, have a good reading.

You and Hannibal were dating for a few weeks now, it’s almost been a month.

It was a cold winter night and you were eating dinner at his place. You were a bit nervous, it wasn’t the first time you two eaten together, but you knew this time was different. You didn’t knew why, but you had this sensation it wasn’t only a sensation, you could feel something into the air, something warm like an embrace, but more intimate.

You where sitting next to Hannibal not watching him while you two eat. You were holding your glass wine trying not to loose yourself into your thoughts.

Obviously your lover did notice your tense expression, so he took your hand and caress it smiling.

“What’s the matter my love? What is infesting that sweet mind of yours?”

Your mind jumped a little forcing yourself to look into his eyes with a nervous look.

You didn’t know how to respond, your face became all red from the realization of what was happening.

“W-what? Oh, it’s nothing Hannibal. Don’t worry, I’m just a bit stressed by work, that’s all.”

Your nervous voice immediately gave him a signal that something was wrong. He got up smiling and got behind you putting his hands onto your shoulders and starting to massage. You immediately tensed up more as his hands cuddled your shoulders trying to calm you down.

“It looks like there’s more than just work. Want to talk about it? You know I’m here to listen and help you. That’s what partners are for”

You couldn’t hold it anymore. It’s been a while since you started thinking about your future sexual life. You were still a virgin, you never found the right person to loose yourself with. You were a bit scared and anxious, what if you didn’t do the right things? What if you didn’t like it but he does? What if… what if… your mind was full of those questions. He was experienced. He. Not you. You didn’t knew enough to make him satisfied.

“What if I’m not good enough?”

“I’m sorry love? Not good enough for what?”

“What if… I’m not good enough… in the bedroom..?”

Hannibal smiled making you turn around to face him and then took your face by the cheeks.

“Is this what is filling that mind of yours with thoughts? Oh my sweet creature. There is no good enough or not good enough into the intimacy spectrum. There’s only the discovery with your partner. You have must felt so scared and embarrassed to tell me, I get that. But let me tell you that I’m never going to force anything this big on you, I’m going to accompany you every little step into this intimate dance that will be our bed life.”

You just looked at him in silence. Like always he understood everything with just a few words.

You got up for the chair and kissed him slowly. You were telling him thank you using your lips, or at least you where trying, but it seemed like he understood.

“Could we… try tonight? I mean… if you want to”

Hannibal smiled caressing your cheek.

“Oh my lover, you don’t have to ask, I’m going to do whatever you say to make you feel comfortable”

You hold him tight kissing him again. That night was going to be a long night spent by exploring each others intimacy.

#mads mikkelsen #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #fanfic #oneshot #dr lecter #x reader #gender neutral reader

[in-his-image]

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

→ AMBUSH

upon missing a therapy session with dr. hannibal lecter, you’re invited for dinner at his house to make up for lost time.

→ more coming soon…

#hannibal #hannibal x reader #hannibal imagine #Hannibal imagines #Hannibal nbc #Hannibal fanfic #hannibal fanfiction #Hannibal Lecter #Hannibal Lecter x reader #Hannibal Lecter imagine #Hannibal Lecter imagines #Hannibal Lecter fanfic #Hannibal Lecter fanfiction #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher oneshot #hannibal x will #hannibal lecter x will graham #mads mikkelsen #mads Mikkelsen x reader

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

How would Nigel feel about his love carrying his baby? 💞😚🥺

HMMM..... HEADCANON TIME!!

your man loves himself a possessive mark

and what is more possessive than carrying Nigel's baby

ever since you told him that man already felt happier than ever in his life

no one can touch you.

only he knows how you like your shoulder to be rubbed and massaged

only he applied lotion to your body and especially to your belly where he hops he will feel a kick

that man lives for that moment

when your belly comes to the max size he loves to tell people

'Yes, she is carrying our child' 'OUR?' 'it was a team effort''

he makes jokes more around a few people he trusts

he loves to call you mama

'mama? how are you feeling?' 'mama, you reset I will carry this.'

just all in all bliss 4587/10

#nigel imagine #nigel x reader #nigel charlie countryman #charlie countryman imagine #charlie countryman x reader #imagine #oneshot #mads mikkelsen

[camusscigarette]

Violets for Roses:

Le Prologue:

{The one where Hannibal catches a glimpse of Bedelia's old life}

TW: Fainting(?) If continued more trigger warning will be mentioned!

❦

It was a quiet evening. Colder than usual but none the less pleasant. With the flames crackling in the fireplace, eating away at the dried wood. A bottle of Champagne 'Taittinger' left open in a bucket of ice, with a tray of charcuterie well presented rests on the coffee table, barely touched.

Hannibal observed Bedelia as she holds the crystal tall glass of champagne by the flute, in-between her index finger and her thumb. She was slightly more dissociated than usual and less guarded, even in his presence and her own home. It intrigued him. She was never this dissociated nor careless. He knew her as a smart woman with wits and seductions to her ploys and her traps. She was like a Black Widow. Dangerous and Beautiful. Yet deadly somehow.

He couldn't call her a Siren because Bedelia did not play on Illusions nor did she play with her looks. She was more than beautiful and her aura radiated coldness and that is all. She wasn't a Coquette because Bedelia never offered him Satisfaction and delayed it. She wasn't a Charismatic because she showed no interest on Playing the role of a God. Showed no interest in swaying someone off their feet. No aura of sexual energy in the air. If he were to describe her as a seductress, she'd be 'The Star'.

“The Star is a fetishized object. Most people are too complex, reactive, and moody to let us see them as objects. The Star’s power is that they can become an object, and see themselves as one.” He recalls reading once.

And what terrified him about it was that..an object can be used to kill. And Bedelia had proven to him that if pushed far enough..she wouldn't hesitate to fight back and win. He has seen it with Neal Frank, and it both excited and terrified him that she somehow managed to fall into trap and give into her bloodlust. So she reminded him of a Black Widow. Easily crushed yet lethal when stung by it.

"You have a fascinating book collection" He noted, looking now over her book shelves in the living room. His eyes skimming over the book covers before they stopped on a certain collection. "You have Dostoevsky, Nietzsche and Camus all stacked by one another. Existentialism, Nihilism and Absurdism. What I consider to be the three stages of life" He chuckled quietly as he stood up and walked closer to the shelf, his fingers lightly caressing the hardcover of a certain boom. "You have them each in their respective language." He noted again, slightly surprised as he read the russian titles for Dostoevsky, the german for Nietzsche, and French for Camus. "Impressive. You speak all three?" Turning around to face her, he found her lip corners slightly turned upwards.

"I was fluent in all three. Now I can only speak French" She said quietly as a small smile graced her lips.

"I did not know you spoke Russian" To say he was intrigued is quite the understatement.

"I had a Half Russian, Half German Nanny growing up" She lied smoothly, he had to give it to her it was quite believable with the way her body language was relaxed yet her eyes held a sense of nostalgia seemingly triggered by her words. But he knew better. "She taught me quite a lot , and after she died I tried to learn more by reading Russian Literature as well as German Literature. Eventually reading Nietzsche in German was tiring enough so I replaced the books to English but the few ones I had that were in German are stored here. Russian was much easier because I spoke it more than I spoke German. And french..well..My father is french as you already know, so.. It's quite the easy language and the only one I still speak fluently in" The backstory added to her lie was the cherry on top, and he would've applauded her if he didn't want to play dumb.

"May I borrow one of your books?" He asked, picking 'La Mort Heureuse' off the shelf, a rather interesting yet absurd book written by Albert Camus. The original version of 'The Stranger' if you wish to see it that way.

"Sure. As long as you take delicate care of it" She murmured against her glass of champagne before downing it in one shot. She stood up surprisingly on steady feet, despite having had mixed wine from earlier session that day with champagne and ha d drank it all on an empty stomach. "If you'll excuse me" Her voice slightly hoarse as she walked towards the bathroom, leaving him all alone in her living room, Infront of all those books.

He began to look at each book, flipping through the pages carelessly until a picture fell from one of them and it was a picture of a woman holding a small child in her arms, Black and white, the faces barely visible but the woman whom he assumed is the mother of the babe had some similar face features that reminded him of Bedelia's. He flipped the Picture over and to his surprise..

Stalingrad, December 3rd 1928.

It read. A sense of dread filled him for the first time and he flipped the picture almost immediately, his eyes analyzing the faces as much as he could, but the picture was far too old for him to decipher a thing. He returned the picture to the book it fell from and picked another, flipping through the pages hoping for something until..

‘James,

I am writing you this letter to inform you that yet again I have given birth to a daughter. It terrifies me to the core that I had given birth yet to another weapon , once again, for Ivan to use against me and the world. I pray to our Most Holy Lady Theotokos and Ever-Virgin Mary that he shows them mercy. You know how our world is. The Red Room won't stop until they are ontop of the world. They won't stop until their reign returns, and that itself terrifies me.

I can not decline the fact that the birth of my newest daughter didn't make me a bit happy. Natalya is excited to have a sister, and I'm considering naming her Yelena. She has Ivan's blond hair, unlike Natalya whom has my red hair. But none the less she still has some resemblance to me. I can only hope that she turns out strong like her sister, or I'll have to lose her like I lost Anastasia. In a week I am expected to return to the field while Madame Boleslava watches over the babe, and Natalya is already in training. I can only hope that one day, you and I, my dearest soldier can escape this hell hole before it'll be too late. And my worst fear will come true. The Red Room would've won and we have become slaves.

Yours faithfully,

Dahlia’

He was confused. He was more than confused as he re-read the letter once more. Who was James? Who was Dahlia? Why are they mainly russian names in this? What is the Red Room? Who is Ivan? Slaves? What does it even mean? And most importantly...What did Bedelia have to do with all of this and why does she have possession of such a thing?

His usually high functioning brain and his unique intellect seems to have given up on him, as he couldn't even put two and two together, and to make it worse, he flipped the letter again and it read.

Stalingrad, May 17th, 1939.

He closed the book immediately and put it back in place as he heard the sound of Bedelia's heels getting closer. The letter folded neatly and tucked away into the inner pocket of his blaze as he took back his seat and grasped the glass of champagne, downing a full shot of the drink as he kept the book he chose in his lap. He looked un-bothered. His body language not betraying a thing as Bedelia approached him, fixing her skirt, pulling at the hem of it as she sat back down in her seat.

A moment of silence reigned over the room before he eventually broke it.

"I never thought you to be the kind to speak multitongues" He said carefully, pouring himself another glass of champagne.

"It's nothing interesting" She said dismissively.

"Am I right to assume you grew up wealthy, no? It would explain the lavishing lifestyle you have about yourself and your exquisite taste in dressing" He couldn't hide his smirk as he eyed over her form in that Channel suit she was wearing.

A dry chuckle escaped the blond woman's throat as she offered him the faintest of smiles. "You are right to assume so"

"What was your father's work that made him the wealthy man he is?" His curiosity was getting the better of him and if Bedelia suspected a thing she did not comment on it, only offering him a raised brow at the sudden questioning.

"He was a Doctor. Neurosurgeon to be exact. He worked in France, Lebanon and Italy. He stayed more in Lebanon because during the Mid 70s till very early 90s a Civil war had broken through and he made lots of money there" She said simply, almost nonchalantly.

"So you spent your childhood in Lebanon?" He asked curiously.

"I was in a boarding school in Switzerland." She said again. Her answers to him felt overused. As if she had prepared this conversation long ago and a sense of dread filled him once more, thought he masked it pretty well.. something in Bedelia's eyes terrified him yet intrigued him more and more.

He felt the urge to reach for her.

To caress her cheek before his hand would soon wrap itself around her throat and squeeze out the answers he desired out of her.

But he knew that it was a dangerous move of him to commit. As the lies and stories she could be hiding behind her tales could be quite.. unfathomable.

Yet, his feet carried him to her and he sat besides Dr Du Maurier on the couch. His hand reaching out for her cheek, thumb caressing her under eye.

"What games are you trying to play, Hannibal?" She asked him coolly, her eyes searching his though no signs of emotions nor an upcoming reaction was portrayed on her face. Everything hidden behind her cold mask.

"Who are you, Doctor Du Maurier?" He asked leaning his face closer to hers as she did not budge."What secrets do you hide my Dearest Bedelia?" He asked again, their lips mere inches apart.

She knew that he was trying to seduce her into speaking, but she was far smarter than he'd give her credit for. Her hand rested on the back of his neck, eyes staring deeply into his, letting her grey blues portray a sign of faux fear and before she struck him.

A tight pinch to the Vagus nerve and he was out in seconds.

"Crétin" She mumbled as she pushed him off of her. Grabbing one of his arms and his leg before she threw him on her shoulders and carried him to her bed with ease. Removing his clothing and keeping him in his boxers she did a fast job of removing her own clothes and putting on a nightdress as she sat on the other end of the bed.

Tucking the gun beneath her pillow she turned to face his unconscious form before she said quietly. "Doux Rêves".

And her eyes did not fall shut.

She remained awake. Observing him. Until the Sun rose eventually.

#i don't know #bedelia du maurier #hannibal #hannibal lecter #bedannibal #fanfic #oneshot maybe #Cupid strikes again #gillian anderson #mads mikkelsen #natasha romanov #yelena belova #nothing is canon #don't know her #canon? what is that #red room #james bucky barnes #i won't tag too much marvel because my own fandom scares me #bye! #violets for roses

[deeverset]

No le temo al infierno

Temas: Primer beso / Conociéndose de forma diferente

•Créditos de la ilustración en la imagen•

Hannibal siguió las instrucciones de Susan. Prescindió de sus elegantes trajes y optó por un pantalón de vestir y un suéter rojizo. Según ella, eso haría que Will confiara y se sintiera cómodo con él.

No era sencillo intimidarlo, sin embargo, tratar al descendiente de su novia despertaba sus nervios.

Cientos de veces, la mujer lo invitó a observar fotografías del muchacho, no obstante, se negaba. No dejaría su profesión de lado, si lo miraba… ¿Lo psicoanalizaría?

Un verde campo rodeaba la construcción de madera, repleta de ventanales y dos chimeneas. Contrario a su hogar, lleno de ciudad y vanagloria.

La hermosa figura de la Sra. Graham resaltó envuelta en un vestido almagre que delineaba su cintura, piernas y destacaba su prominente busto. Un sueño.

Lecter cargaba una botella de vino y una cesta que contenía una bolsa de gel helado, que mantenía a temperatura adecuada, varios quesos, “carnes frías” y frutas. Una escena mediterránea.

—¡Cariño! Me alegra que vinieras —saludó, dándole un beso en la mejilla—. Pasa. William espera en su dormitorio.

La antítesis de la mansión del doctor. No hallaba tono distinto al marrón de la corteza obtenida de los árboles y alguna explosión vibrante que acompañaba a diseños tribales presentes en telas.

Pequeñas cornamentas funcionaban como candelabro; uno de los pocos detalles que le agradaron al invitado. Excesivamente hogareño para su gusto.

Colocó los aperitivos sobre el comedor mientras la esbelta dama gritaba al pie de las escaleras a su primogénito.

Se ocuparon en ordenar la vajilla y servir la comida. Precisaban ser productivos al aguardar.

—Perdón por la tardanza. Ya estoy aquí.

El mayor no supo si maldecirse por privar a sus ojos de esa fascinante imagen o, si existía un Dios, agradecer la extraordinaria bendición enviada.

Le doblaba la edad al chico, que andaba en sus veintes, rizado al igual que su progenitora, tez blanca con un brillo y rubor interesante, pestañas largas que acrecentaban su aspecto tierno y un cuerpo bastante trabajado que se marcaba gracias a sus formales prendas. Al parecer jugaron a lo mismo.

—Hannibal, Will. William, Hannibal.

—Un placer —dijeron simultáneamente.

El ojigarzo estiró su mano, mas el psiquiatra estaba demasiado embelesado que la ignoró durante segundos y cuando al fin se dio cuenta de la situación, la estrechó tan fuerte y por un largo tiempo que resultó vergonzoso.

La cena transcurrió de manera “normal”, fuera del sugestivo modo en el que los masculinos ingerían sus alimentos. Imposible que solo uno de ellos inventara la palpable tensión sexual que percibían.

Eran conscientes de sus actitudes erróneas, pero todo quedaría en eso… una simple fantasía.

—¿Aló? —Una llamada irrumpió a mitad del postre—. Disculpen, asuntos de trabajo. Contestaré en el jardín —indicó la señora, tapando el micrófono y retirándose.

—Doctor, ¿se encuentra bien? —cuestionó el joven, apenas los tacones de su mamá se volvieron inaudibles—. Lo he notado algo… ansioso.

El castaño se acostumbró con los años a escuchar dicho título previo a su apellido, aunque, en la voz del menor, lograba estremecerlo.

—Tu… presencia. No es fácil enfrentarse a un individuo tan importante que tiene licencia para juzgar.

—Yo no sentencio, querido cirujano —El rizado entendió, a raíz del nerviosismo en las palabras de Lecter, que poseía el permiso de proseguir—. Si hay un ente superior, se encargará de ello, si no, nuestros iguales lo harán —Retiró uno de sus zapatos de sus pies y con él, escaló a partir del tobillo del castaño hasta su entrepierna—. He de mencionar que no le tengo miedo al infierno, como ya puede notar.

El mayor recordó al muchacho con el que tuvo sexo por primera vez. Esperaron a ser "adultos", ambientaron románticamente una habitación y compartieron su inexperiencia. Memorable, debido a la confianza y comunicación de la que gozaban. Después de él, no hubo otro hombre, por cobardía, quizá.

—Saldré un rato. Problemáticas empresariales. Me necesitan ahí —La fémina regresó a la estancia con su bolso, deteniendo la reacción del psiquiatra—. Prometo no tardar. ¿Estarán bien solos?

Ambos se miraron, cómplices. La oportunidad perfecta.

—Nos cuidaremos mutuamente —aclaró el chico, recibiendo un beso de su madre en la frente—. Esto es conveniente para… relacionarnos mejor.

Desafío y sensualidad reinaban las pupilas del ojigarzo.

El vínculo con su mamá era bueno, sin embargo, la sexualidad jamás imperaba en sus pláticas. Desconocía que probó a todos sus amigos, aunque nunca cruzaron hasta la penetración.

El castaño no era otro experimento, realmente quedó encantado desde que lo vio a través del móvil de su progenitora y tenerlo en carne y hueso sólo aumentó su interés.

Graham se levantó de su silla y le extendió la mano con el objetivo de que lo siguiera hasta el sillón. Dudó. Su corazón latía a mil por hora, un ligero temblor se adueñó de sus músculos y la cabeza le explotaría ante tantos pensamientos contradictorios.

—Esto es una mala idea —externó el cirujano al encontrarse junto al joven que lo rodeó del cuello con su brazo, recorriendo su pecho con los dedos de su extremidad libre.

—Deja de fingir que no llamé tu atención. Los ojos no mienten en lo absoluto —Bajó la mirada hasta la sutil erección formada en Lecter—. Eso tampoco.

—No voy a follarte —jadeó al apreciar el aliento del menor a milímetros de su boca.

—Me encanta que lo hayas considerado, pero ¡oh doctor!, deseo más que eso. Esa intimidad se construye.

—Va a odiarnos —Su oposición flaqueaba a cada segundo. Lo acarició con ternura, como jamás lo hizo con nadie más.

—Soy mayor de edad. Nuestro consentimiento está dado. Además, el día en que ella se entere, es lejano —Ocupó el regazo ajeno, deshaciéndose de la distancia—. Me perdonará, soy su único hijo. Si me ve feliz, también se apiadará de ti.

¿Qué pensaba? Era el gran Hannibal, cualquier cosa que hiciera triunfaría. Sus planes nunca fallaban y esa no sería la excepción.

Asintió lentamente. El rizado se acercó a sus labios, lo miró como si fuera el ser humano más hermoso sobre la Tierra y lo besó.

Calidez, pasión y cariño incipiente. Todo lo que Susan no le proporcionaba, no obstante, era lo correcto; mujer y varón de la misma edad.

Qué tontería.

Si pecar se traducía a probar, sin cesar, la experta lengua húmeda del muchacho que encendía sus sentimientos y cuerpo con solo pronunciar su nombre… Estaba condenado.

Disponible en Facebook:

#hannigram #oneshot #hannibal #will graham #relato corto #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #first kiss #alternate universe #hannigramweek2023

[hannigraams]

hey, tumblr! i’m hannigraams ( also on tiktok & discord ) and i’m excited to be using this site to post some of my writings that i’m fairly proud of as well as headcanons, shitposts & theories on nbc’s hannibal. i’ve loved it since i first watched it and i’m currently on my seventh rewatch.

i’d love to find hannibal mutuals as well as be able to interact with the tumblr community for hannibal since i know you’re all hiding here somewhere.

i’ll post writing excerpts from different fics i have & i’ll leave the links for the fic if it’s one already published! i’m ‘erwinsbfirl’ on ao3.

feel free to also ask me questions ( anonymous or not is fine ) !! i’ve opened the ask blog up. :)

check out the links below for fics ongoing or that are already finished! thank you for any support. <3

#hannigram #hugh dancy #mads mikkelsen #hannibal #nbc hannibal #nbc hannigram #hannibal fandom #hannibal fic #hannigram fic #hannigram writer #ao3 writer #fic writing #writing #headcanon #requests #oneshots #fic snippet #fic sneak peek #i don’t know what else to tag #i’m super gay #uhhh what else #will graham #hannibal lecter #abigail hobbs #alana bloom #jack crawford #margot verger

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 546

Gif NOT mine. (Found on Pinterest.)

If this gif is yours please let me know, so I can give you credit.

Gif credit goes to - Unknown.

Year posted - 2020

#imagine #gif imagine #actor #actor imagine #mads mikkelsen imagine #mads mikkelsen #X reader #reader insert #mads mikkelsen x reader #mads mikkelsen x you #mads mikkelsen x (Y/n) #mads mikkelsen oneshot

[eevee-of-rivia]

My Neighbor Knows

Summary: Will is a camboy and he enjoys his work. One day immediately after one of his lives his neighbor Hannibal invites him for dinner, revealing him that he knows his secret. (I’m sorry I’m really bad at summaries)

Pairing: sub!Camboy!Will x Dom!Neighbor!Hannibal

Dad!Hannibal & Daughter!Abigail (she’s only mentioned)

Word count: 3,7k

Warning: Smut under the cut (MDNI), anal sex, D/s tones, Dom Hannibal, sub WIll, blowjob, anal fingering, choking and a bit of gagging, a little biting (in a kinky way), a bit of puppy play (Hannibal calling Will “puppy”), praise kink, Will with lace panties. Tell me if i forgot something

A.N: please reblogs and comment are very important so if you like the fic consider do one or both things! Thank you!

Will was sitting on his bed, his legs spread open and his grown erection only covered by some black lace panties. An item that he had to buy for one of his fans who paid him to wear them for his next live.

He wasn’t really complaining about them, he kinda liked how they looked on himself and he liked the feeling of the lace against his shaft.

The man was finishing to prepare everything for his live, getting the camera ready and positioning it in a way that allowed Will to hide his face, only showing himself from the neck down.

He had already set the timer to make the live start, now walking towards the bed to make himself comfortable, when he remembered the other request from the same user who paid him to wear the lingerie panties.

He wanted Will to thank him for the gift at the beginning of the live, showing off how the item suited him.

Sighing a bit the man walked back in front of the camera making sure that the person who would have watched him could clearly see him from the waist down.

„This will do, “ the man told himself, stopping in the center of the room waiting for the live to start while taking a few deep breaths.

Will only had to wait a few seconds before seeing his usual fans joining his live, already commenting on the new piece of outfit that he was wearing.

Some of them were curious about his choice, some of them were happily telling him that he should wear them more often.

He waited a few seconds before clearing his voice a bit, making the chat go silent.

„Today for you I have a special surprise. One of my lovely fans bought me this“ Will said before gripping the panties with both hands and pushing them down a bit, only showing the already swollen head of his erection for a few seconds before covering it again.

„I want to thank them for this gift, “ he said before looking again at the chat that now was full of users asking him to bend down to give them a better view.

The man chuckled a bit, trying to remain in the role he was playing for the live, before turning himself to show his back to the camera.

„This is the only time I’ll do that because here is me who is in control, “ Will said in a low growl, trying to sound more dominant.

Once he finished the sentence the man bent over, his ass now on full display.

He smirked when he heard in loop the sound of the notification that told him that someone was donating him money.

It was only after two hours that Will decided to end the live, promising his fan that he will do another live the next week.

Turning off the live and the camera the man sat on the bed, lying against the wall with his back while trying to catch his breath a bit. The black panties are still on.

He wanted to take them off but his fans paid him to keep them on for the entire live, so he complied.

Will was going to take them off when he heard his phone ring in the other room. He sighed before getting up from the bed to go to answer the call.

„Hello?“ the man said when he answered the call.

„Hello Will, I hope I’m not disturbing you, “ the man on the other side of the phone told him.

Will recognized his voice as the one of his neighbor Hannibal.

„oh hey Hannibal, no you’re not disturbing. Do you need anything?“ he asked the man, his voice still a bit out of breath.

„Are you ok Will? You sound a little out of breath“ Hannibal told him, a smirk on his face.

„Nono I’m fine, but thank you for asking, Hannibal, “ Will told him, before asking him again if he needed anything.

Hannibal ummed a bit before answering his question. „Abigail is staying with one of her friends for the weekend and I’m afraid I cooked for two. Would you like to come here for dinner?“

Will was taken a bit unaware, not expecting that.

He remained silent for a few seconds, his head full of thoughts and questions, before getting back to reality when he heard Hannibal asking him if he was still there.

„uh yeah yeah sorry. Yes, I would love to come for dinner“ Will said, now his breath back to normal.

„Perfect, I’ll wait for you in 10 minutes, “ Hannibal said before closing the call, leaving a panicked Will alone with his thoughts.

He had only ten minutes to get ready and to feed his dogs before reaching Hannibal, who lived in the house in front of him.

He quickly came back to his bedroom, opening his drawer to search for something elegant to wear.

He didn’t know much about Hannibal, even if he had a crush on him since the first day he saw him moving in with his daughter, but he knew that he had fine taste, preferring a more elegant style than a casual one.

Will searched for a while for something to wear, relying on a white shirt and a pair of black pants.

Once the man finished dressing he looked at the clock, seeing that there were only 5 minutes left.

Cursing under his breath he quickly rushed into the kitchen, filling all the bowls for his dogs before warning them to be good and leave.

Fortunately for him, Will was on time for his dinner with Hannibal.

He knocked a few times on the door, straightening his shirt while waiting for Hannibal to come and open the door.

Will was intent to adjust a bit his curls when he saw the door opening, revealing a Hannibal dressed in a dark blue suit and a smirk on his face.

„Good evening Will, please come him“ the man greeted him before taking a few steps back, allowing him to come in.

„It’s a pleasure to have you for dinner Will, thank you for coming, “ Hannibal told him, placing a hand on his lower back and guiding him towards the dining room.

„It’s me the one who should thank you for inviting me, Hanni-„ was going to finish the sentence when he saw what his neighbor had prepared for him.

In front of him, there was a long table already prepared for the dinner, a few scented candles placed at the center of the table, and Will’s favorite dish ready on the plates.

„Should we begin?“ Hannibal asked Will while guiding him to his seat situated on the right of Hannibal’s one.

The only thing that Will could do was nod, not trusting his voice right now.

It was a pleasant dinner for Will. He had fun talking with Hannibal and he could try his food.

„I never knew that you could cook this good“ Will told the man in front of him, taking a sip of whiskey from his glass.

„I’m glad to hear that Will. I’m sorry for the whiskey, if I knew I would have bought something special for the occasion“ Hannibal told him before sitting beside Will on his black couch.

Will shook a bit his head, looking at Hannibal who was very close to him.

His legs were spread wide and his knee was touching Will’s one, making him blush slightly.

„It’s no problem, I like this one, “ the brunette told him before taking another sip, searching in the whiskey a bit of liquid courage.

They kept talking about many things, Will relaxing more and more with the time passed.

„You know Will, I enjoyed how my gift looked on you today. You should wear panties more often“ the man told him looking at him in the eyes, a little smirk on his face.

Will almost choked on his whiskey but he tried to remain calm, trying to look like he didn’t know what Hannibal was talking about.

„W-What do you mean?“ Will asked him, his voice trembling a bit.

„No need to lie, Will, I know about your work and I rather enjoy watching your lives“ the man told him, taking the glass of whiskey away from Will’s hands, which now were shaking, before placing it on the glass table in front of them.

„I don’t know what you’re talking about, “ Will said, getting up from the couch and looking at Hannibal.

„I need to go now“ he continued before starting to walk towards the door.

„Will stop, “ Hannibal told him, his tone was firm and made Will immediately stop in his tracks.

He didn’t know why he followed Hannibal’s order, his head now full of thoughts and questions.

Did Hannibal know about his onlyfan? Was Hannibal interested in him in that way? Did he enjoy what he saw?

Will was repeating these questions in his mind when he felt a hand on his shoulder that woke him up from his thoughts.

„Will, there’s no need to be ashamed of what you do for work or as a hobby, “ Hannibal told him in a calm way, his hand tightening a bit his grip on Will’s shoulder.

„In fact, I enjoy what you do“ the man whispered to his ear before walking in front of Will, looking at him with a serious expression.

The two of them looked at each other in the eyes for a few seconds. Will always moving his gaze from Hannibal’s eyes to his lips. God he really wanted to kiss him so hard.

Hannibal should have read Will’s mind because after two seconds the man gripped the back of Will’s neck, making the man gasp and tilt his head behind a bit, before placing his lips on Will’s.

The kiss was soft at the beginning but it early turned into something more, Hannibal exploring Will’s mouth with his tongue making the brunette moan into the kiss.

When he heard Will moan Hannibal smirked in the kiss, passing his free hand through the brunette's hair tugging at them a bit.

The kiss lasted only a few seconds more, only interrupted by Hannibal who took a few steps back allowing Will to breathe.

His cheeks were flushed red and his pants were growing tight because of the growing erection in Will’s pants.

„That’s a good boy“ Hannibal praised him, caressing his lower lip with his thumb.

The brunette looked at the man for a few seconds before parting a bit his lips, taking in his mouth Hannibal’s thumb and starting to suck it.

Hannibal smirked, letting Will take the reins for a while before moving away from his hand and taking his thumb out of his mouth.

„You act like a Dom in your lives, but in reality, you’re just a little pretty slut only waiting to be fucked“ the man told him lowering his hand to grip at Will’s erection making him moan and squirm a bit.

„Stay still Will“ Hannibal growled, making the man in front of him whine but stay still.

„Good boy“ the man praised him before moving his hand inside Will’s pants feeling the lace of the panties that he was wearing.

Hannibal played with the edge of the panties for a while, making Will’s erection grow harder because of the feeling of Hannibal’s hand this near to his dick.

„I see that you enjoyed my gift, “ the man told him while taking his hand out of Will’s pants, making him pout a bit before realizing what Hannibal just told him.

„Y-You are the one who paid me to buy them?“ Will asked him, a bit confused because of what Hannibal just told him.

„Yes Will, like I previously said I really enjoy your lives and I wanted to see you in something more...

Particular“ Hannibal told him before starting to nib at Will’s neck leaving on him some bite marks.

Will whined again, this time pressing his erection on Hannibal’s thigh moving a bit his hips to try to gain some friction.

At the feeling of Will’s erection pressing against his thigh, the man growled, telling the brunette to stay still if he didn’t want to be punished.

„But“ the man tried to protest only to receive another growl from Hannibal and a more harsh bite on his neck.

„Not now Will, I want to take my time with you.

You’ll be a begging mess before I’ll make you come“ the man told him before gripping his shoulders and making him walk back until his back was pressed against a wall.  

„I don’t beg, “ the brunette told him in a short breath.

„You will“ Hannibal promised him before kissing him again, his hands now wandering all over Will’s body.

It didn’t take them long to move from the dining room to the bedroom.

Both of them were still fully clothed but Hannibal was going to change that.

„I want you to strip down Will“ the man whispered on the brunette’s lips before taking a few steps back and sitting on the bed, looking at Will intently.

The brunette hesitated a bit before starting to unbutton his shirt, letting it fall on the ground when he finished unbuttoning it.

Moving his attention to his pants the man started to unbuckle his belt receiving an interested hum from Hannibal, who was studying his body from head to toes.

„Leave the panties on“ Hannibal ordered him when he saw that Will was taking off the lace panties too.

Will nodded a bit, following Hannibal’s order and leaving the panties on, before looking at the man a bit unsure of what to do now.

„Get on your knees and come here, “ Hannibal told him, smirking when Will complied and crawled toward Hannibal, placing himself between Hannibal’s spread legs.

„That’s my good boy“ Hannibal praised him, taking Will’s chin with his thumb and index finger and making him lift his face.

„Why don’t you put your mouth to good use? If you’ll be a good puppy I’ll reward you“

The brunette pouted a bit, not really happy with the idea of not receiving a reward after, but he decided to do his best and to show Hannibal what he could do.

Slowly Will placed his hands on Hannibal’s thighs, caressing them a bit before moving his hands to the belt, unbuckling it.

After that Will decided to unzip his pants, tugging them down a bit with the man’s boxer making his cock sprung free.

It was bigger than Will expected, his eyes widening a bit at the sight of Hannibal’s cock.

The head was red and a bit swollen, now resting on Hannibal’s chest giving his dick a little curve.

The brunette stared at it for a few seconds before taking the shaft with one of his hands, stocking it slowly.

Hannibal let Will do as he wanted for a few minutes, making him take his time before passing a hand between Will’s curls tugging at them a bit.

„Be a good puppy Will, I know that you can do better than that“ Hannibal told him, smirking when the brunette started to suck the dick’s head.

It took Will a while but after a few minutes, the man was taking half of Hannibal’s shaft in his mouth, moaning around it.

„Shit“ Hannibal cursed a bit, tightening his grip on Will’s hair and pushing his head down a bit.

The brunette gagged a bit around the shaft, his eyes watering a little, but he tried to relax his throat and breath through his nose.

After a few minutes, Will was taking all of Hannibal’s dick into his mouth, feeling the head down his throat.

„That’s enough Will, “ the man told him, tugging at his curl a bit making him lift his head.

Will let out a little whine, not happy with Hannibal's decision. He looked at him puppy watery that were also full of lust, his lips red and swollen.

„Don’t be sad Will“ Hannibal whispered on his lips, gently kissing his lips and biting his lower lip before getting up from the bed.

„Get on the bed, I want you on your hands and knees“ Hannibal ordered him before stepping to the side, allowing Will to climb on the bed.

The man looked at him for a few seconds before taking out his pants and boxer.

Will was waiting for Hannibal when he felt the bed dipping behind him, making the brunette turn his head only to see Hannibal kneeling behind him.

He wanted to say something but the only thing that left his mouth was a moan when Hannibal gently nipped at one of Will’s ass cheeks.

„Those suits you, Will.“ Hannibal told him before gripping at the edge of the panties and taking them off.

„T-Thank you Hannibal“ Will thanked him, his voice a bit hoarse because of the blowjob he had previously done to Hannibal.

The man only hummed before placing a hand on Will’s upper back, pushing him down until his chest was pressed on the mattress and his hips were high.

„Stay still for me, “ Hannibal told him before opening the drawer of a bedside table, taking out a bottle of lube.

The man opened it, pouring the lube on his index finger.

Hannibal looked at Will for a few seconds, enjoying the view of Will bent down on his bed, before spreading the lube on Will’s hole, making him hiss a bit because of the coldness.

When Hannibal was happy with his work he gently pushed his index inside Will’s hole, enjoying the heat and the tightness.

„Tell me if I hurt you, Will, “ the man told him, starting to move his finger searching for the brunette’s prostate.

The brunette wanted to answer but he was only able to nod, a loud moan getting out of his mouth when Hannibal curled a bit his finger.

The man hummed and, when he felt that Will was ready, he added a second finger.

A smirk on his face when Will started to buckle his hips, trying to take more from Hannibal.

„Hannibal, I’m close..“ the brunette told him, feeling his orgasm building in his stomach.

„Don’t cum“ Hannibal growled, making the man under him whine and pout. And the action that earned him a loud spank, leaving him without words.

„No whining, be the good puppy I know you are, “ the man told him, adding a third finger before stocking Will’s prostate making his cock twitch.

Only when Hannibal was sure that Will was ready he took out his fingers, leaving Will empty and whimpering.

„I know Will, you’ll be full again soon, “ the man told him, kissing the side of his neck after pressing his chest on Will’s back.

Hannibal grabbed again the bottle of lube, pouring a bit quantity of it on his cock before guiding it to Will’s entrance.

Only the head was inside when Will cursed under his breath, muttering about how big Hannibal was making him smirk like a cat.

The man slowly pushed more of his dick inside Will until it was all inside him, the head grazing over Will’s prostate making him moan with every thrust.

„Faster Hannibal, “ the brunette told him after a while, wanting more from the man who was mounting him.

„Beg for it Will, “ Hannibal told him pushing his chest against Will’s back, making his dick go deeper.

The man only shook his head, refusing to beg the man.

„The choice is yours, puppy“ he whispered in Will’s ear before pushing two fingers inside Will’s mouth, pressing them on his tongue.

It took Will many minutes and many times that Hannibal denied him to cum, to finally make Will beg.

„H-Hannibal please, I can’t take it anymore.“ Will begged him, his cheeks wet with tears and on the verge of the orgasm for the fifth time.

„Please“ the man pleaded, making Hannibal purr before fastening his thrusts.

„You can come, Will, “ Hannibal told him when he felt that his own release was near, enjoying the cries that came out from Will’s mouth while he was dirtying his chest and the sheets with his cum.

It didn’t take long for Hannibal to come inside Will, both of their breath heavy and short.

Hannibal waited a while before taking his cock out of Will’s ass, admiring how the white cum was slowly dirtying Will’s inner thighs.

„Tired“ Will mumbled a bit before lowering his hips and curling himself a bit.

„I know Will but first I need to clean you, wait for me here. I’ll be back in a minute“ Hannibal told him, kissing his forehead sweetly before getting out of the bed and walking towards the bathroom.

Once he came out of the bathroom the man had a warm washed cloth in his hands that he used to clean Will up.

„Don’t fall asleep yet, can you do that for me?“ Hannibal asked him, only receiving a soft hum from Will, his eyes already closed.

„I need to change the sheets“ the man explained to him before helping him to get up from the bed and on his legs.

The brunette looked at him with a sad expression, his lips pouting and his body trembling a bit.

Looking at the trembling body Hannibal decided to leave the changing of the sheets for later, opening a drawer and taking out off it a red sweater, before walking towards Will and making him lift his arms.

„Good boy“ he praised him while putting on him the red sweater, that covered almost all of his ass.

„Better?“ Hannibal asked him, only receiving a nod from Will as an answer.

Once he was sure that Will was ok the man returned to his job of changing the sheets, taking out the dirty ones, and putting them on the bed some fresh sheets.

„Let’s go to bed Will, “ the man told the brunette before lifting his body and placing him in the bed, covering him

with the sheets and hugging him from behind.

„Goodnight Will“ he whispered to him before leaving a single sweet kiss on the back of Will’s neck, smiling when he heard Will snores indicating that he was already asleep.

#hannibal X will #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #hannigram #hannigram smut #hannigram one shot #will graham x hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x will graham #will graham #oneshot #hannibal one shot #will graham one shot #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #eevee of rivia one shot

[witcher-and-henry-cavill-stuff]

ᎷᎥᎶᏬᏋᏝ Ꭷ'ᏂᏗᏒᏗ ጀ ᏒᏋᏗᎴᏋᏒ

ᏝᎧᏉᏋ'Ꮥ ᏰᏝᎥᏕᏕ

ᏰᏝᎧᏕᏕᎧᎷᏕ ᎧᎦ ᏝᎧᏉᏋ

𝕯𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝕺𝖇𝖘𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓

#x reader #one shot #imagine #navigation #fluff #miguel o'hara x reader #masterlist 2 #more coming soon #hannibal lecter #hannibal lector x reader #hannibal oneshot #mads mikkelsen #Mads Mikkelsen x reader

[shegatsby]

Princess

I think I have read all of your fics but I hope this hasn’t already been requested, but a Hannibal x fem reader smut where maybe they aren’t dating yet and she stressed and gets frustrated and snaps/yells at him in his office and he just goes silent then responds with his dominant self and like ya know wink wink (maybe bends her over the desk) the rest is like up to you. @fallingfor-fics

Warnings; Unprotected sex. Spanking. Daddy kink, praise kink omg :D

A/N: Thank you for this request. Chile anyways so... lol Sorry for any typos. <3

(gif isn’t mine)

Y/N was on her way to Doctor Hannibal Lecter’s office, it was lunch time and she promised that they would eat lunch together at his office. She made sandwiches and brought sliced fruits, she walked to the office and quickly ran the hall way, as usual it was silent and dim. She knocked on the grey door and Hannibal Lecter answered it with a strange smile. Y/N and Hannibal met couple months ago, she was Will Graham’s close friend and she was invited to Doctor Lecter’s dinner party. Hannibal Lecter kindly introduced himself to her, he wasn’t just kind though, there were walls between them, Will warned her about Hannibal’s strange behavior. She was fascinated by him, the way he walked, talked and held himself… she could see that he was a man who looked down on most people but when they were alone she felt they were equal, he made sure of that. Hannibal always remembered and cherished the day they met, she walked to his kitchen with Will, Hannibal looked up to see this young woman, he had to admit he had never seen such beauty before, he stopped whatever he was doing and walked up to meet them, his maroon eyes were on her, ���’Y/N Y/L/N I assume? I’m Hannibal Lecter, pleasure to meet you.’’ And he kissed the back of her hand, ‘’The pleasure is all mine.’’ She said with her sweet, innocent voice, her cheeks looked warm and her smile lit up the entire room. Ever since that dinner party Hannibal and Y/N were spending time together, he started to keep inviting her to his home for dinner or breakfast, whenever he got a ticket to see a play he would buy two because she also loved watching plays. He watched her walk inside, putting the bags on his clean and neat brown table and unpacking, she was getting comfortable with each day and he liked that, however sometimes she would take a step back as if she could sense how corrupted and evil he was, this excited Hannibal, it was invigorating to see the fear in her Y/E/C eyes.

He walked to his dark brown cabinet to get red wine, he knew it was her favorite, he brought two glasses and they both settled on his comfortable dark grey couches, she loved visiting his office because she loved his understanding of aesthetics, the only thing bothered her was that whenever they were having lunch at his office she felt like he was her therapist, because they were sitting on the opposite couches and he would make remarks of psychology as if he is analyzing her.

Before Y/N Hannibal would never eat outside or eat someone’s food but one day she surprised him and he was astonished by her cooking skills and he decided that he could make exceptions just for her. He could see she was troubled but he didn’t want to point it out, ‘’How was your day?’’ he casually asked. Y/N didn’t look at him, her focus was on her wine, ‘’Normal.’’ She shortly replied, Hannibal could sense the irritation in her voice, he sometimes shocked himself for putting up with a young woman such as Y/N, he was interested in her and not in a friendship way, he wanted to be intimate with this girl but sometimes she could push his buttons. He moved his head slightly shrugging her bad energy away, ‘’That doesn’t sound like normal Y/N.’’ they was he said her name sent shivers to her entire body it was loving and threatening at the same time. ‘’What do you want me to say Hannibal?!’’ She didn’t mean to raise her voice like that, she was surprised to see that not a single muscle moved on his face, she was in awe of how beautiful he was, high cheek bones, sharp jaw line, he was significantly older than her and she could see it but he was like a vintage wine. ‘’You can tell me anything Y/N, you know that. We can socialize and communicate like adults.’’ He took a bite from his sandwich, Y/N rolled her eyes. Hannibal noticed that habit months ago and whenever she did that he just wanted to slam her body against a wall or a near desk and teach her manners. He was having an inner battle which Y/N was blind to see, with his free hand he squeezed the couch’s arm rest. Okay dad!’’ she replied with a sarcastic voice, she stood up, ‘’My problems are mine, you are not my dad so stop trying to be one and mind your own business.’’ She walked to his table to get her stuff but something snapped in Hannibal’s twisted mind. He quickly bolted to his feet and walked to the door, he had the key in his pocket so he locked it. With the sound of door being locked Y/N stopped, looked at him and she saw him walking to her, like a hunter walking to his prey. Her mind was racing and voices in her head were screaming to run but her body didn’t move. He stood right in front of her, moved a strand of hair away from her pretty face, ‘’It’s about time I teach you manners princess.’’ And he grabbed her soft neck, pulled her to him. Their lips met for the first time, Y/N imagined this moment more than once and her dreams were always sweet and romantic, however the kiss was nothing like that, it was passionate, rough and she was actually scared of how aggressive Hannibal can be.

When she got a metallic taste in her mouth Hannibal let go, they were breathless, his one hand still on her neck, other at her waist. ‘’Even though I want to take my time wit you princess you were acting like a brat, you should be punished.’’ His voice was calm, his maroon eyes never leaving her eyes, he kissed her again, his lips were skilled and felt cute, his tongue explored her mouth like a starved man, his hands went to her black pencil skirt, lifted the fabric up, her hands were in his hair, they felt so soft, it was as if she was touch the most expensive silk. He pulled away from her, ‘’I want you to bend over to the desk, and never move.’’

Her cheeks were flushed, she thought he could hear her heart beat, she did what he said.

Hannibal looked at her body, bent over on his table, waiting for him to punish her, he took a deep breath and came to whisper in her ear, ‘’I want you to count with me darling, if you disobey or miss a number I will start over. You wouldn’t want to test me right now. Understood?’’ She never had a sexual experience like this before and was eager to know what Hannibal was up to, ‘’Yes.’’ She whispered like him. ‘’Good girl.’’

A harsh slap landed on her butt cheek, she didn’t expect that and yelled, ‘’One.’’ She heard Hannibal say and he waited for her to say the number, ‘’O- one.’’ She said with a shaky breath, he spanked her again, ‘’Two.’’ He looked calm but inside his blood was boiling, he imagined this before, he wanted to do this to her for so long and now she was bent over and taking it. ‘’Two.’’ Y/N said screaming, he spanked her again and again and again. Y/N could feel herself getting wet, when he stopped he leaned on her back, moving his hand on her burning ass, ‘’Shh’’ she was crying, ‘’It’s over, have you learned your lesson princess?’’

‘’Y- yes.’’

‘’Good. Since you were a good girl and didn’t complain…’’ his hand went to her wet panties, ‘’hmm, someone wants to be spoiled. Do you think you deserve it?’’

She was shocked and speechless so she moved her head as yes, ‘’Use your words princess.’’

‘’Yes, please.’’

Hannibal slowly pushed her wet panties down, gave kisses to her exposed legs, he kissed her red butt cheeks and watched her move in pain. He quickly got rid of his belt and pulled his pants and underwear down to his ankles. His cock was hard and the tip was shiny with pre-cum. He pumped himself few times, moved his cock to teas her swollen pussy, she moaned softly, ‘’I will be gentle at first, tell me if I hurt you princess.’’ And he pushed into her entrance slowly, even though he just spanked her several times he never wanted to hurt her, he kept pushing himself in slowly and when he was balls deep she made small pleasure sounds, ‘’You like it?  Tell daddy how much you like it.’’

‘’I love your cock daddy, please fuck me- I- I can’t take it anymore..’’ he was balls deep and not moving to tease her, he hand all the rights to tease her because of her behavior earlier but he decided to move. He moved out, holding her waist and when his cock was completely out he slammed back in, she arched her back in pleasure, she never expected him to be this big.. she wasn’t used to but Hannibal was slow and taking his time, making her adjust to his huge size. You were embarrassingly wet for him, only Hannibal could do this to you. He watched you swallow him, he could cum right there if he didn’t let out a long shaky breathe, he kept his slow pace, in and out, she had to bit her finger, she was ashamed of how wet she was and the sound of it made her entire body shiver, ‘’That’s it, you are doing so well.’’ She had a praise kink and she moaned his name like a prayer. ‘’Such a pretty thing,’’ he said as he got faster, his hands buried to her waist, she knew that the next day she will see purple bruises on her ass and waist and that excited her, he was making sure to leave marks on her body, he wanted to scream to the world that she was his. His hips bumping the backs of her thighs with each thrust and she gasped with each stroke, he tightly pressed her flat against the cold table, ‘’A- shit-‘’ she tried to speak but the pleasure she was receiving was too much, her couldn’t form words. In this position the head of his big cock hitting her g-spot perfectly, she never experienced something like this and she screamed his name. He was fucking her wet cunt relentlessly, she could feel his breath on her neck and ear, she got goosebumps, and he was keeping her immobile, ‘’You liked to be fucked until you’re fucking shaking, I know princess I know.’’ His voice turned her even more, and she liked the pet name princess, with each word he trusted in her and her eyes got blurry, a helpless moan sliped from her dry lips and she felt her cunt leaking she was coming and it was slippery mess down on her thighs, ‘’Daddy,’’ Hannibal loved being called a daddy, it was his thing he was closer and he could feel her coming, leaking, her walls tightened and started to milk him, his final sudden and harsh trust made her shed a tear, her eyes were squeeze shut and jaw locked, Hannibal could feel her cunt gush and soak his and her thighs, he emptied his hot cum in her tight hole and she let him fill her.

‘’I hope you misbehave soon princess.’’ He kissed her cheek and smiled.

Thank you for reading. :)

#hannibal lecter #hannibal #doctor hannibal lecter #doctor lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x you #mads mikkelsen #mads mikkelsen x reader #mads mikkelsen x you #Smut #hannibal smut #reader #fanfiction #hannibal oneshot #hannibal lecter smut

[voxmortuus]

I'm sorry the Hanniheads have been so rude to you. Ironic considering what he dies to the rude lollol. Take your time. There's no rush :)

This is sooooo not self indulgent lmao i was wondering about a yandere Hannibal waking up and his darling is totally gone. Her shoes are still there, all her stuff. He searches every where for her and finally finds her outside, having sleep walked all the way to the edge of the woods.

I sleep walk, I once woke up stirring an empty pot on the stove. Thank God my mom heard the commotion. I was around 12 at the time, now I'm 27 and it's calmed down a lot. I still laugh in my sleep from time to time, bonus points if you could perhaps include the reader laughing in her sleep?

►PAIRING: Yandere!Hannibal X F!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Hannibal ►WORDS: 650 ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: See Above. ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: Panicked Hannibal | Possessive Hannibal | Worried Hannibal | Sleepwalking Reader | Sleep Laughing Reader | Some fluff | Hannibal Watching You Sleep | I may be missing some, but you get a general idea, so please proceed with caution if there is anything in there that is overly triggering please let me know politely and I will make sure it is added to the list. ►NOTE: Thank you for understanding. It has not been a fun experience, some aren't so bad and I appreciate them and others, well, they make me not want to write for the Hannifans. You know what's funny, is my wife and I were talking about that just the other day! Sleep walking can be terrifying! At least you were safe! Anywho, I hope this meets your request and finds you well. Sorry it took so long, it's been a crazy past few weeks! I hope this finds you well and safe. ►IMAGE CREDIT: I found this gif here. It is not mine nor do I claim any ownership. This gif does not belong to me. I found it on an outside source. ►DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa ►My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist

A void, an empty void. He could feel it, the bed felt cold, like it had been emptied for a long while. Hannibal shoots up looking over to see your side of the bed is empty, and cold.

"Where did you go?" He asked aloud, but low and behold no answer. His brow furrowed. "Y/N!? WHERE ARE YOU?!" He called out, but nothing still.

He looks around the bedroom, and all over the upstairs, you've got to be somewhere. He kept repeating in his head. He didn't like that you weren't here, his heart raced, he panicked a bit, and felt this obsessive need to find you. Where could you have gone, you couldn't have gone far. Calling your phone didn't help, you turned it off, but why? Why did you turn it off tonight? That was slightly unlike you.

Hanibal's brow furrows again, finding your phone on the bathroom sink. He leaves it there before he heads down the stairs. Looking around and sees your things are still here, your bag, your shoes, and the front door wide open. Where did you go?

He feels this deeper panic, did you get taken? Did you run away and leave everything here? He started to worry even more, feeling this deeper need to find you. He steps out of the front door and calls for you, but you do not respond. His jaw clenches and he starts to look around outside, walking the property until he looks in the grass and sees footprints, and he follows them.

The ground was wet from the dew, your feet were covered in blades of grass, some dirt specks, your night shirt hung off your body, swaying in the wind as the bottom of it brushed against your legs. You stood there, just staring into the black void of the woods. What were you looking at? What was it you were seeing? What was calling you? You just stood there, watching, swaying slightly, not aware of the chill of the summer night.

Upon following your footprints Hannibal find you, he knows waking you can be a problematic situation, so he guides you back inside. Blinking a few times, you look over at him and tilt your head.

"Were they not calling you, my Love?" you ask.

Hannibal shakes his head. "No, my Darling, they were not, I'm not as special as you are. Come now, back in bed." He states softly.

"Do you think they'll call for you one day?" You ask.

He smiles and shakes his head. "No, my Darling, I do not." He states softly as he gets you back into bed and covers you up.

The moment your head hits that pillow you're back asleep, but afraid you'll wander off again, he takes a seat in the chair in the corner of the bedroom and watches you. Like hell you're going to leave him. The idea of that happening angered him, but he wasn't going to take it out on you. He just truly didn't like the idea, it made him sick and aggressive and overly possessive.

Watching you, he pays close attention to your motions, maybe he can find a way to fix this, you didn't do it often, but when you did, it scared him each time. It was this little bubble in his chest that grew and grew each time he woke up and you weren't there. You scared him, you scared him deeply, and he didn't like that.

With a small moment of silence, he thought he heard you giggle, so he listened a little closer. Sure enough, you were giggling. A soft tilt of his head, and soft chuckle escaped his lips.

"How adorable." He spoke softly, shaking his head he let out a breath and leaned back in his chair and sat there watching you, making sure you weren't going to leave his side again.

#hannibal imagine #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #hannibal fluff #hannibal angst #hannibal smut #hannibal lecter imagine #Hannibal oneshot #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x you #Mads Mikkelsen gif #hannibal lecter angst #hannibal lecter #hannibal #hannibal gifs #hannibal nbc #hannibal netflix #mads mikkelsen #VoxMortuus

[yokichikun]

new life

I was bored to search the one shots that I needed, so I decided to create them and post them here. So yea, feel free to give me suggestions or ask for anything. I’ll mainly do Hannibal, Duncan, Le Chiffre and Mads, but if you want other charts just ask

#mads mikkelsen #hannibal #polar #duncan vizla x reader #duncan vizla #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x will graham #le chiffre #le chiffre x reader #casino royale #mads mikkelsen x reader #fanfic #oneshot

[in-his-image]

Ambush || Hannibal Lecter x Reader

Word Count: 6.2k

CW/TW: LONG ASS FIC. Mentions of scars, disturbing content and Cannibalism (obviously), reader unwittingly committing cannibalism, unhinged Hannibal, biting, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cream pie.

Notes: Upon missing a therapy session with Dr. Hannibal Lecter, you’re invited for dinner at his house to make up for lost time.

IMPORTANT: please note any repeating paragraphs are a glitch in tumblr - whenever I edit new repeat paragraphs pop up. Please try to ignore it x

He creeps up on you.

Much like the monsters you imagined lived under your bed as a child. They dwelled in the crushing darkness, between the carpeted floor and the slats that supported your slate grey mattress. Impatient for the moment your foot slips from beyond the covers into the chilled air around you, ankle exposed to the elements and vulnerable to those that lay in wait.

He’s not unlike them. The rich chocolate of his eyes reflect the trepidation of the child-you. He invokes the intense uneasiness, the kind that seeps into your pores and cooks you from the inside out, despite the gentle tilt of his smile that you saw weekly.

You cannot place the general disquiet that the man in suits solicits, or why it radiates from deep inside your bones despite the comfort you had built with your meetings. Nor can you discern why your reaction to seeing him outside of his elegant, neo-classical therapy office causes you to act like a doe caught very much within the sights of an apex predator, effectively defenceless.

You hesitate for a moment. How does one begin to explain that they had skipped a meeting as their affection for their therapist had passed beyond curiosity into the obsessive?

“No,” you mumble quietly, assuming Hannibal would be straining to hear, “No I am just forgetful.” The tap of your thumb against the pearly-silver of the gurney reverberates off the walls of the mortuary in a quiet ‘pang’, cutting through the silence that follows your ill-mannered answer as if counting down the seconds to your therapist's reaction.

You were uncertain as to when it started to slip, your fascination curdling into something akin to fraternisation.

“Well,” Hannibal begins, mercifully staying on the other side of the gurney that you had appropriated as an imaginary line in the sand, “I have no available appointments for quite some time. I believe this will affect your progress.”

You clear your throat weakly, guilt steeping your bones. How rude of you, to unravel the intricately stitched coping mechanisms that Hannibal had gently and compassionately threaded into your brain. Your mouth opens, forming around pathetic, half-hearted apologies that you hoped would mitigate the obvious disappointment Hannibal was feeling.

“Unless you wish to discuss your mind-matters over dinner?” He asks flippantly, catching you completely off guard. Almost as though he didn’t comprehend the way he was teetering on the edge of inappropriate conduct with a patient.

“Unless you wish to discuss your mind-matters over dinner?” He asks flippantly, catching you completely off guard. Almost as though he didn’t comprehend the way he was teetering on the edge of inappropriate conduct with a patient.

“Ah-“ you stumble to collect your thoughts, your own eyes seemingly unable to catch the deep-bronze iris of the man before you, try as you might. “That would be perfect, Doctor Lecter, thank you.” A pitiful attempt to rush the perfectly polite man out of the door, but your heart was racing and you needed to be able to focus.

“Seven o’clock tonight,” his eyes wander over the body before you as he speaks, “Please do inform me if you are to be late.”

“Yes, Dr. Lecter.” You mumbled, watching as he turned on his heel, rather elegantly and paced out the door.

———

It wasn’t often you found yourself contemplating how you had spent your time. When you did, it wasn’t uncommon to consider how precious life is, and whether or not you had spent enough time with those you loved or doing things you enjoyed, spending hours fretting over whether or not you had done enough to make all the time worthwhile.

And so you cringed at how much time you had pondered the question “what does one wear to a dinner with Dr. Hannibal Lecter?”

It wasn’t as though he was taking you to dinner. It was a meal at his home. Regardless, Hannibal dressed to the nines almost daily. Your standard dress felt rather obsolete at the prospect of dining at his table. If his office was anything to go off, you imagined his home would bleed a darker kind of old-money.

You had decided to dress up, rather than dress down.

Much like how you had stood in the doorway of your wardrobe and despite the cold, you found your feet rooted to the doorstep of your therapist's home. You were second guessing yourself. The rather extortionately priced wine in your hand began to burn the skin of your palm- once confident in its price tag making it worthwhile, you now started to wonder if it would be to Hannibal’s taste or if it would even go with the meal.

Finally, you swallowed the nerves that congealed in your stomach, twisting into something comparable to fear before you pressed your thumb against the doorbell. The ‘ding’ of the doorbell itself seems to shock you, a chill running up your spine at the prospect of the door opening and staring into those deep brown eyes.

But there‘a a pause, one that drags on far too long for comfort. It’s an eerie silence, settling like dust on surfaces long, the kind that makes it hard to breathe. You doubt yourself for a moment, lifting your hand to the doorbell once more.

Before you can push the button, the hinges of the doors strain as it is pushed open, an immaculately dressed Hannibal Lecter on the other side. He wears a pale blue button down shirt, almost bluebell coloured. It’s sleeves are rolled up his forearms, exposing the long scars on either wrist he once explained he had sustained during an attack on his life. The simple, light grey waistcoat immaculately compliments the tone of the shirt. Much like everything Hannibal does, it’s perfect.

“Good Evening,” he muses, eyeing you slowly. Try as you might to search for a ripple in his poised appearance, his expression gives nothing away. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you, Dr. Lecter,” your voice barely feels as though it reaches above a singular decibel in volume, nerves besting you now he stood opposite.

Hannibal moves out of the doorway, allowing you to step into the heat of his home. As you had suspected, it was as though his house was the sibling to his office. Dark, intimidating, and yet artistic and beautiful. It was as though it mirrored its owner in it’s properties.

“Allow me to warm you up,” he spoke, leading you through the hallways as your shoes ‘clacked’ against the hardwood floors. “The dining room has a fire.” Walking behind him, the expanse of his back felt so much larger without a blazer to weigh it down. It had never really occurred to you how much larger than you Hannibal was. He was lean, yet his height and somewhat intimidating aura made up for that exponentially.

To fill the silence punctuated only by the sounds of your feet hitting the floor, you decided to speak up. “I brought wine.” Hannibal looks over his shoulder at you, eyes flicking down to take note of the bottle in your hand that he seemed to have disregarded until now.

“Red wine,” he states, lips tugging at the edges, “that will work perfectly with the dishes I have prepared. Thank you for the gift.” A quiet sigh of relief is expelled from your lungs, a fuzzy feeling working it’s way through your stomach. At least you had achieved his approval somehow.

In an attempt to keep this feeling of success going, you continue the conversation despite the way your toes curl in your heels.

“What is it that’s for dinner, Dr. Lecter?”

Hannibal hesitates upon his answer, turning back to face the way in which his feet were taking him. “You’ll see,” is all that he gives in response, leaving an air of mystery surrounding both him, and the dishes that awaited your compliments in the kitchen.

Hannibal hadn’t lied. The dining room was warm, the fire glowing warm orange in contrast to the stark white of the snow that had begun to settle on the back yard and the streets of Baltimore. The window-doors at the head of the table allow you to view the flakes falling and experience the eerie quiet that often precedes snowfall.

The wall to the right of you is made of dark grey stone, shelves filled with soil and packed with a variety of sprouting herbs. The temperature of the room accentuated the mixture of scents. You could pick out a few common aromas; thyme, basil, lavender.

“Your home is beautiful, Dr. Lecter,” you whisper, as he pulls the chair to the left of the head of the table out for you. “Did you decorate it yourself?”

Hannibal moves to serve the wine that he gently pries from your hand, his actions well rehearsed from what you assumed was the multiple dinner parties he liked to throw. He hums slightly, uncorking the bottle and inhaling the fruity smell.

“I did. I like to use my artistic ability at any given opportunity,” he says, leaning in and gently pouring wine into the glass in front of you. You can feel it, the proximity of your bodies. You can practically feel the tickle of his breath on the back of your neck, chills running across your skin and peppering it with goosebumps.

Your cheeks flush, closing your eyes in an attempt to gather the thoughts that Hannibal had managed to scramble in but a few seconds as he finishes up. His footsteps seem to ricochet off the dark painted walls, assaulting your eardrums as he paces to his own side of the table.

“How do you wish to proceed?” He asks, settling in the seat across from you after pouring his own glass of wine, “We can discuss your therapy before or after the meal.”

You hesitate as you consider your answer, watching him raise the rim of the glass to his thin lips. “Perhaps before. I wouldn’t wish to spoil a delicious meal by discussing unsavoury topics afterwards.”

“Then let’s begin with why you didn’t show up to our last session?” He asks, eyes focused entirely on you. It feels like a blade has been pushed through your stomach, and he expects you to spill your insides onto the floor. You’d rather that than give him honesty.

“I got caught up with work,” you lie, rather uselessly as you feel the heat of his gaze on your face. Or was that just the warmth from your cheeks?

The wineglass opposite you is lifted by his slender fingers, swirling the liquid in the crystal as he considers your deceptive answer. “That is most unlike you. Dare I say you’re rarely less than 15 minutes early to our meetings together?”

You can only muster a quiet ‘mhm’ in response. It’s evident that you’re failing at convincing him. Fiddling with the napkin in front of you, you ready yourself to admit to your therapist the true reason as to why you had avoided his company.

Hannibal, in turn, offers you the silent treatment. This wasn’t uncommon- he claimed it allowed you to focus more on your feelings and form a coherent answer to his questions. But out of his office and in his own dining room, the hush is stifling. An immense pressure falls upon you, and you feel the truthful words threatening to spill from your parted lips.

“I… I have feelings for you, Hannibal. Emotions not compatible with a patient-therapist relationship. I had been hoping to avoid the topic and continue as we had been, but the sheer intensity of these sentiments are… restricting my ability to improve with my treatment,” It spills out quicker than you can stop yourself, lips and tongue forming the syllables despite the logical half of your brain begging for silence.

You grab your wine, taking a sip to occupy your mouth and distract it from spilling further embarrassing secrets- like the reason you weren’t improving was because you spent the whole hour-long session daydreaming about if Dr. Lecters dexterous fingers could play you as beautifully as he plays the harpsichord.

In your embarrassment, you hadn’t noticed the sharp-featured face before you had barely given any notion that it had registered the meaning behind your admission. The umber iris of his eyes simply observe your own micro-expressions, analysing your reactions. Your skin crawls at the realisation, feeling almost as though he was reading you like the complicated psychology books that sat in his office that weighed a tonne.

Though, he appeared to have an infinite amount more patience for you than the yellow-faded pages of brain studies.

Before Hannibal is able to comment on the panicked look in your own eyes, a timer in the kitchen cuts through the silence. Without pause, he stands swiftly from the table, placing his almost full wine glass down. “Dinner will be served momentarily,” he informs you, bowing briskly out of the dining room and leaving you alone to stew in your mortification.

The savoury scent of the meat and its spices barely registers as you run over every word of your appalling rant. Your shaking hand takes the crystal stem of your own booze, taking large gulps of the burgundy liquid in an attempt to ease your racing heart and mind.

It’s not as though you could say you would be surprised if Hannibal were to refer you to a new therapist. But it wouldn’t be honest of you to admit that it wouldn’t hurt you if he did. To go without his wisdom, his guidance and his company would feel almost like a drought. A famine of enrichment that your brain had become wholly reliant on.

You place the base of your almost empty glass on the table, gazing into the bowl and watching the wine settle at the bottom. It slipped down the sides, pooling like blood across a floor.

You’re torn from your self-pity-party as the sound of Hannibal’s heels against the wooden floor echo down the corridor. You find yourself sitting up straight and trying to reassemble your nerves. With a plate in hand and another resting precariously on his forearm, Hannibal waltzes into the dining room.

“Pork loin with red fruit Cumberland sauce,” he informs you, making his way over to your side of the table to deposit the carefully designed plate of food in front of you. The pork is glistening, soaked in the red sauce, and is accompanied by green beans and thin slices of potato. It smells divine, and you can’t help the way your mouth waters, begging for a taste.

“It looks wonderful, Dr. Lecter. Thank you,” you say softly, attempting to put aside the humiliating conversation of earlier. Without much of an answer, Hannibal picks up the bottle of wine to top off your glass. You don’t protest, but you had been hoping he wouldn’t notice how much you had already drunk in comparison to his relatively full crystal glass.

Of course he noticed. He always does.

You extend courtesy to Hannibal, waiting for him to take his seat before you begin to tuck in. He wastes no time, however, settling in his seat with little fuss before settling the napkin on the table over his thighs. It’s impossible not to notice the air of anticipation surrounding his actions, swifter and more purposeful than his usual neutral self.

“Please,” he urges you politely, “do not feel as though you have to wait for me.” He takes up his cutlery, eyes settled intently on your face as he awaits your reaction. You indulge him, also picking up your designated silver. The serrated edge of the utensil cuts through the meat like butter, the juices and sauce coating the slab you carved from the main body of the meat perfectly.

Raising the fork to your lips, you hum softly, the fruity taste of the sauce more intoxicating than the wine that Hannibal had been plying you with. The saltiness of the meat cut through, the dichotomy of the flavours enriching the experience on your pallet. “Mhmm,” you close your eyes, practically purring as you chew the delicate meat.

“Is it to your liking?” Hannibal asks you, words slow and purposeful. You nod softly, swallowing the mouthful of food and reaching for the stem of your glass before opening your eyes.

The view before you makes your heart race. Hannibal, sitting before you, is staring intensely. His eyes are darker than usual, his pupils blown wide as he watches you enjoy the meal he had prepared you. It shocks you, seeing Dr. Lecter’s usually steady mask slip so acutely.

You feel your face flush with heat. He’s devouring you with his eyes unabashedly, the power balance tilting in his favour.

“Yes. It is to my liking,” you repeat back softly, surprised the words don’t catch in your throat with the thickness of the tension in the air. Perhaps it’s the volume of wine you had drunk in such quick succession, but there’s a buzz against your skin, a spark of playfulness igniting deep in your chest. He refuses to look away, to blink and miss a moment.

You test the waters, impaling your fork in the glossy meat of the pork loin once more and cutting another slice for yourself. Hannibal's eyes flicker down to your plate and back to your face, anticipating you tasting his ‘art’.

You lift the mouthful to your lips, resting the meat on your tongue and slowly pulling the fork back so your lips drag against the metal, gazing back at him through your lashes. There’s a tick in your therapist's jaw, a physical show beside the potency of his gaze.

The moan that escapes your throat is obscene, entirely inappropriate for a dinner table setting. Hannibal, usually a stickler for manners and rules, seems unable to impart a lecture when so absorbed in your reactions to his meal.

The gratification that warms your body pushes you onwards despite your relatively mild nature around him. You make sure to keep his gaze, fingers wrapping around the glass of crimson-liquor once more.

Catching those carnal eyes with your own, you raise the rim to your lips. The alcohol settles on your tongue, and you allow yourself, just once, to be messy. A droplet spills from the corner of your lips, running down your chin and throat before seeping into the seams of your top.

A spark in the previously potent and viscous air caused a complete detonation. It happens so fast you can barely blink, Hannibal’s chair, thrown to the side with the speed in which he stood, clatters against the floor.

He takes your chin in his palm, fingertips pressing into your cheeks so violently it makes your jaw ache under the pressure as he forces you to look at him. His chest heaves as he gazes down at you, entirely unhinged from the composed, immaculately dressed man that often commanded the room.

The air sizzles between the two of you, lascivious and acute. You can feel your stomach flip, Hannibal’s grip slowly loosening as he drags his palm from your chin and down your throat. His touch is feather-light, the subtle calluses on his fingertips he had developed after years of playing stringed instruments brushes against the Sternocleidomastoids in your neck.

The touch of his fingertips alone against your skin causes bolts of nervous energy to rip through your spine, as though Hannibal was administering his own, radical form on electroshock therapy.

His palm stops just over your throat, leaning down slowly. You can feel yourself getting dizzy, lungs having stalled in your chest as soon as he leapt from his seat. There is no intense collision of lips and teeth, no violent kiss that bruises your mouth with the vigour. Instead, the tip of his nose brushes over your own, foreheads rested against each other.

When he gently presses his lips to your own, it’s as though he entirely winds you with the complete contrast from the kiss and his earlier actions. It’s stunningly soft, his thumb brushing the underside of your jaw to sooth you into releasing a soft moan.

You can’t process the way Hannibal takes his time, his kiss slow and gentle initially, the soft taste of wine upon his lips that add to your already drunk and dazed state. He makes you entirely pliable in his hands, readying to mould you exactly how he wished with those fingers you knew were renowned for their ability to create masterpieces.

He gently pulls back from you, your own lips tingling with the need for the pressure back. Those gorgeous umber eyes gaze through his blonde lashes, and you find yourself praying you haven’t done something to put him off. You couldn’t possibly live without another kiss like that-

A firm hand takes hold of your bicep, considerably pulling you from your chair so you stand before him. Despite his help, you manage to stumble, and you grasp onto the outer seam of the perfectly tailored waistcoat he wore. The snow continues to fall slowly from the sky outside, but the body heat coming from Hannibal, underneath the layers of clothing against your touch is profound.

Hannibal rests his palm against your hip, thumb pressed gently into your hip bone as he reaches behind you. You watch him beside you as he rests his forearm on the table, swiping aside the plates and cutlery in a broken symphony of different materials scraping and knocking each other. A silver knife falls from the tabletop, clanging as it collides with the floor. A crystal glass is knocked off balance, tipping and spilling its insides over the table in the opposite direction.

“Hannibal-“ you gasp, about to protest the mess he had made until he presses a gentle hand against your sternum, slowly laying you down against the dark mahogany table. The coolness of the wood seeps through the fabric of your clothes, pleasant against your fevered skin.

It’s dizzying, the speed of the acceleration of events but the lethargy in which they happen. Your body reacts in a similar way, arousal slowly simmering underneath your skin while already being far too much to tolerate without his touch.

“How many patients do you take to bed?” You murmur, watching as he slots his hips between your parted thighs, gazing down at you with hungry eyes. There’s a silent gap between your question and his answer. It’s no hesitation, just occupying himself with the feeling of your supple flesh in his hands.

“Only you,” He says with such conviction you find it hard to doubt him, “though, we are not in bed.” From anyone else’s mouth, that sentence would land as a joke. From Hannibal’s, it’s a pointed reminder of the risqué nature of him beginning to strip you on the tabletop in which all his guests ate from.

So he begins, this time a little more feverish in his actions than his initial kiss as he hastily unbuttons your blouse to expose the flesh of your chest. His fingertips brush your clavicle, tracing the arch of the bone under your skin before taking the strap of your bra between his forefinger and thumb, tracing his eyes over your exposed upper body.

Your skin goosebumps under his gaze, feeling exposed as he brushes the bra strap over your shoulder. Splaying his hand on the table beside your waist, Hannibal slowly lowers himself to rest his upper body against your own, lips pressing to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Chills run down your spine, igniting in your lower abdomen.

Desperate to hold onto something, to busy your hands, you move swiftly to unbutton the form fitting bodysuit. Three buttons, cool against your touch, slip open with little resistance, and you push the tartan fabric from his broad shoulders.

The gasp that forces its way past your lips is entirely unholy. He had sunk his teeth gently into the skin of your shoulder, a short, sharp pain jolting through your neck.

“Mhm,” he hums softly, pressing his lips into the tender flesh that displays his teeth marks proudly. “My apologies.” You shake your head quickly, a frankly desperate whine indicating your need for more- though the apology hadn’t sounded entirely sincere regardless. Perhaps you’re dazed, imagining things, but you swear you feel his lips stretch into a smile against your sensitive skin.

Aiming to please, Hannibal nips your throat, preparing you before biting harshly in an attempt to elicit that same reaction. It does, the sinful moan of pleasure bouncing off the walls of the dining room. Your fingers work their way into his blonde hair, gripping the roots to ground yourself. Your hips jolt as his teeth drag against the swollen flesh, grinding against his own.

“Ohh~” you whine, the bulge in his pants evident as it brushes your clit through the fabric of your pants. Hannibal’s grip is tighter now, bordering on brushing as he tilts your hips upwards.

Finally, his free hand works to unbutton your pants, tongue running over the delicate skin he had previously assaulted. Your cunt is throbbing, desperate for him to touch as you attempt to kick the fabric from your legs. Hannibal just barely manages to pull the waistband down your thighs before you begin to cry in utter frustration.

His hand cups between your legs, thumb rubbing your clit through the thin lace fabric of your underwear. You swore when stood gazing into your wardrobe earlier that you were being ridiculous, choosing to wear lace panties just in case. But now, displayed on Hannibal's dining table, you couldn’t help but thank earlier you for not embarrassing yourself.

Your clit throbs as the pad of his thumb circles your clit quicker, back arching off the tabletop in a half-hearted attempt to escape the intense pleasure he evokes in you. “Fuuuck-“ you moan raggedly, shaking your head in feeble complaint.

Hannibal’s other hand turns your face to him, pressing his lips to yours in a fuller, hungrier kiss. He’s all tongue and teeth, devouring you while spurred on by the soft, vulnerable sounds that escape your throat at the way he entirely overwhelms you.

Despite the distraction of his teeth pulling on your lower lip, you’re not too far gone to not notice the way his fingertips roughly push underneath the hem of your panties and dip into the soaking heat of your pussy. “Haaa-“ you slur his name against his lips, drunk on the acute pleasure building between your legs.

Pushing your hand under the hem of his shirt, the flat of your palm brushes against the coarse hair on his chest, the act pulling at the threads that fasten the buttons to the shirt he wore. Hannibal seems unphased by the strain on the fabric, entirely consumed by his most prized possession, the way your cunt weeped deliciously around his fingertips.

The slick, soaked sound of his fingers brushing through the cleft of your pussy causes your hips to jolt, losing control of your own muscles. You quietly apologise, the words of remorse dying on your tongue as you watch Hannibal’s fingers slowly sink inside of you to stretch you open. God- Did your eyes just roll back? Fuck that feels so good.

You both feel it, the content hum that rumbles from Hannibal’s chest indicating he was pleased by the way there was no give, his fingers just slipping inside you to the knuckle as you lift your hips. You sounded so fucking wet it was almost grotesque, but mixed with the shaking moans he would draw from you with each brush of his fingerprint over your clit it was a consonancy.

Your trembling hands reach forward to undo the buckle of his belt, the rattle of the metal impossibly loud as you desperately try to unhook the prong from the belt hole. You need him to fuck you, so desperately needed to feel him fuck you, stretch you open. “Hannibal, please?” You beg, voice hoarse as you struggle.

Hannibal doesn’t answer, still. Instead, he moves his hands to his belt, swiftly unhooking and pulling it from his pants loops. It just highlights the control he exerts in comparison to the already trembling mess he had made of you.

His fingers are still buried deep in your cunt, stretching you open. You can see the way he feeds off of the view before him as he pulls the zipper of his pants down, shucking them from his hips and letting them slip down his thighs. He wastes no further time, pulling his cock, throbbing and leaking at the tip from his boxer shorts.

Hooking your calves over his hips, he settles between your thighs. You stare, slack jawed as you watch him slowly slip his fingers from your cunt. They’re glistening under the light, soaked. He gives you little time for embarrassment, lifting them to his lips and tasting you with a broad stroke of his tongue over his digits.

You forget to breathe as you listen to the deep groan that vibrates in his chest, evidence of his approval at the way you taste. You hear, in the silence, him quietly mumble a word, in what you assume is his native language. That, or you’re so far gone that you no longer understand English.

When he looks back to you, his eyes are dark, pupils having dilated so far they have practically swallowed the chocolate of his iris’. You moan out his name like it hurts, the sight alone making you tremble even before he takes hold of your thighs with that crushing grip that will leave splotchy bruises in the morning, the ones that would begin purple, fading day by day yet still a daily reminder.

The head of his cock slips inside you with such ease it’s almost obscene, Hannibal’s top lip pulling up to expose his teeth in a snarl. You’re so warm and slick, fitting around his dick so nicely.

Eyes closed, you whine as Hannibal fills you. He feels incredible, and you swear you can feel him twitching inside you as he slowly inches deeper inside you. You’re clenching around him, hips rolling in an attempt to chase that high, but Hannibal would not be moved.

His hands slowly release the intense grip he’d held on your hip bones, one palm slowly sliding upwards, above your pubic bone. Those same dark eyes flick to your own, holding your gaze as he begins to thrust achingly slow.

Despite lacking speed, there’s a level of intensity that the steady rhythm has. The friction, the intimacy, the feeling of his palm pressing into your abdomen to feel the way he stretches you out, feel the way he’s making space in your cunt for him. You hum, tilting your head back to rest the crown of your skull against the dark wood.

Senses overloaded, you keen at the way you can still taste the wine you had both shared on your lips, the scent of sex floating on the air. You could watch Hannibal from this angle, see the way his hips moved, witness the evidence of his exertion as a slight sheen of sweat on his brow.

With each easy thrust, Hannibal hits a different spot inside of you. Each is enough to curl your toes with need, begging silently for a quicker pace. With the meat of his palm, he slowly begins to apply pressure above your pubic bone, watching with bated breath and he feels each gentle push of his cock.

You gasp out loudly when the head of his dick brushes up against something that causes your back to arch. Sparks jolt down your spine, settling and coiling between your legs. It’s like Hannibal had found what he was looking for, as it all seemed to snap inside him, suddenly setting a brutal pace that has your hips jumping up the table.

Cries bounce off the walls and you dig your nails into the grain of the tabletop, tears welling in your eyes as he savagely pinpoints that one spot that causes your heart to skip a beat. The view of Hannibal is blurred through your weeping eyes, your jaw slack with the increased pleasure aching between your thighs.

You’re clamping down on him, your own body betraying you as it chases the euphoria Hannibal was teasing you with. “H-Hannib-“ you’re choking on your own whines, trying to focus on the rhythm, his face, anything other than the rapidly increasing pressure.

You hear him now, the puffs of air escaping his nose, quiet groans as you clasp him tighter. The tears roll down your temples and into your hairline, sobs rising in your chest at the sheer enormity of the orgasm he was building inside of you, simmering and threatening to spill over with each thrust that seems to hit an impossibly deeper part of you.

And then he just fucking breaks you. He pushes his thumb against the swollen flesh of your clit, causing you to brace all the muscles in your body so much it hurts, bordering on cramping under the strain. You’re sobbing ugly now, shaking your head quickly as it begins to crest, going and going as you slur Hannibal’s name.

It hits you so hard you let out a scream. It shatters hot white, bursting through you with such intensity your vision blurs. Pulses of ecstasy radiate from your core, leaving a blisteringly hypersensitive sensation in its wake. You can feel your pulse thrumming through you, echoing in your ears as you slump into the devastating obliteration.

Hannibal strains against the way your cunt grips him like a vice, fluttering around him and coaxing his orgasm. He listens to the way you whine his name, watch as you convulse on his cock and the muscles in your abdomen jolt with each wave of pleasure.

You can hear him, his breathing ragged as he hurtles towards his own orgasm. He’s focusing so hard on it, building the pace and digging his fingertips into your thighs to anchor him to your cock as he fucks you senseless. A jagged groan of pleasure spills from his lips, and he’s cumming inside you, warmth spilling inside and pumping you full of him. You can feel him pulse, filling you with his cum as he braces himself with his hand splayed across the table for balance.

It’s debilitating, the afterglow. You can feel your whole body buzzing with the subtle shockwaves, the way your cunt still flutters around him, Hannibal’s cum seeping from your pussy and dripping onto the table. The sound of each other’s breathing mingles, a duet as one inhales and the other exhales.

You let out a nervous giggle, cutting through the relatively quiet room as you glance up at him, bleary eyed and aching. You can hear him chuckle too, gazing down at you and brushing your hair from your face. When he pulls out, you feel more of him spill out of you.

Dressing himself, Hannibal gazed down at you with chocolate eyes, his gaze much warmer and more typical of him than the carnal stare that had overcome him before he’d pounced.

“I will fetch water and a towel,” he murmurs, his accent even thicker with the exhaustion of your activities seeping into his muscles. You nod shyly, slowly sitting up as you try to cover yourself as you watch him leave and enter the kitchen. In the silence, you can’t help considering the switch in him that had taken you so much by surprise. Analysing the way it has initially frightened you.

You had always considered Hannibal Lecter a symphony. Among the french horns and the stunning cello, the perfectly orchestrated tempo and timbre, there is a terrific sound. A horrendous shrill of a bow pulled taught across the cured cat-gut strings of a violin, symbolising that deep dark part of him you never saw but knew he had. That dangerous side of him reflected in that feral gaze.

END

Notes: Fever dreams in writing.

Tags: @leatherboundbirate @star-killer-md @xwing-baby @historyandfandoms50 @paper-n-ashes @jynz-andtonic @mylifeisactuallyamess @mariesackler @pansa-1-san

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