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#hannibal x reader x will graham
entitled-fangirl · 4 months
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I see how you look at her, William.
Hannibal x wife!reader; Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham
Summary: Will is introduced to Hannibal's wife. The three seem to hit it off a little too well.
Words: 1,587
Warnings: idk, poligamy? Mutual pining should be its own warning, cause it always pulls at my heartstrings. And typos. Always.
Author's note: I literally pulled his GIF up, giggled, and said "Ehehehehe. He's so silly."
Masterlist
I don't own the rights to these characters!
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She descends down the stairs of the house, rounding the corner to the kitchen. She stands in the doorframe, watching her husband do what he does best- cook. 
He stands at the counter, focused on the cut of meat he had in front of him. She took this moment to admire him. His strong back, his shoulders moving with each movement of the knife, his biceps flexing. Although all traits were hidden from her view by the dress shirt he wore, she could still imagine it just fine. His sleeves pushed up his forearm always seemed to catch her eye, like it did now. Her eyes wander to his greying hair, imagining running her hands though it. He seemed to feel her gaze, because he turned his head just slightly. Not to look at her, but just to see her see him acknowledge her presence. His voice carried through the kitchen, “I don’t need to turn around to know that you look beautiful tonight.”
She let out a soft giggle, pushing herself further into the kitchen. “And why is that?”
He stopped his movements momentarily, his eyes moving up the wall slightly. “Because you’re always beautiful,” he says before going back to his knife and cutting board. 
It had been Hannibal’s idea in the beginning, inviting Will Graham over for dinner. He loved hosting dinners, but having dinner with only one guest was an unusual thing. And he had yet to meet Y/N.
Hannibal had kept Y/N a secret for many years, only revealing her to those attending his dinners. And sometimes, not even then. He knew what he did was dangerous, and he wished to keep her hidden from the public as much as possible. And she never minded, for she often felt anxious at big events and meeting too many new people at once overstimulated her. And above all else, Hannibal didn’t like to share things that were his. Especially things as kind as her, where the world could ruin her in a day. No, she was his, and they were a perfect pair, the two of them, for his arms were her favorite place to be. And his arms were also his favorite place for her to be.
He places the meat into the pan before finally turning around to look at her. He froze, a pleasant smile crossing his face, “Ah, bella. I knew I wouldn’t even have to look.” 
She does a quick spin, letting him see all the aspects of her dress. She grows nervous under his gaze, “is this alright?”
He lets out a soft chuckle, “Darling, it’s perfect.” He takes a few steps forward, closing the distance between the two of them before leaning down, his arms open on either side of her to avoid touching her dress with dirty hands. She meets him halfway, sharing a soft kiss. 
He smiles, moving back to the food at hand. She takes this as a cue to prepare the dining table.
Before she even finishes, a knock is heard at the door. She quickly walks to it, taking a deep breath before opening it. The sight in front of her is even better than she thought. 
Will Graham stood at the threshold of their house in a dress shirt and sweater vest, his hair gelled to perfection. He held a nervous smile about him. His eyes trail up to hers, and his smile drops. He takes a deep breath of his own, before he places the smile back on. “Oh, sorry,” he apologizes, reaching a hand out, “I’m Will Graham.” 
God, he was handsome. Hannibal had said he was quite attractive, but this. Attractive was an understatement. Will Graham was beautiful. 
She reaches her hand out to take his, “Y/N… uh… Y/N Lecter.”
She watched as the gears turned in Will’s head, his handshake slowing. “Lecter?”
Hannibal’s body appears behind Y/N, his hands moving up to rest on her hips. “Ah, Will. I see you’ve met my wife. Come in. Please.” He pulls Y/N’s body back slightly to make room for Will to enter. Will does so, letting his eyes wander around the house. 
Y/N feels her husband's grip tightening around her waist. She knows him better than anyone. He’s not jealous, per se. No, this was something else entirely. Was he…. Nervous?
Will stuffs his hands in his pockets, as his gaze returns to the couple. “This house is gorgeous, truly.” He looks to Y/N, assuming she decorated it.
She smiles, pulling herself from Hannibal’s grip, “I didn’t do it, Hannibal did. He has an eye for things. Excellent taste.”
Will smiles back, fighting himself to not look at her for too long, “Yes. It seems he does.”
Hannibal shuts the door before moving towards the dining room. “Please, come sit. I’m almost done,” he says, giving a final glance to his wife before disappearing into the kitchen.
Y/N immediately moves to her usual spot, at the left side of the head chair. She pulls the chair out softly, sitting down in it before her gaze moves back to Will. He follows suit, sitting on the right side, directly across from her.
A silence ensues as both of Hannibal’s favorite anxious people look anywhere but each other. Finally, Will break the tension, “Hannibal never… mentioned you. I, I definitely didn’t know he was married, especially to someone so,” he stops himself.
She smiles, catching his eyes, “someone so… what, Mr. Graham?”
Will looked away again, his breath caught in his throat. He lets out a cough before smiling. “I guess.. I guess I was going to say beautiful.”
She tilts her head at him, “You guess? So, why didn’t you?” She liked watching his squirm. Perhaps she picked that trait up from so many years with Hannibal.
This caught him off guard. She was rather blunt in her thoughts. “I just, I don’t know, assumed it inappropriate to say too much of another man’s wife, is all, Mrs. Lecter,” he says, taking a sip of the water in front of him.
She nods, leaning back slightly in her chair. “Hannibal is aware of what he has. As am I. He taught me to never refuse a compliment.” 
He nods as well, “Then, you look very beautiful, Mrs. Lecter.”
“Y/N,” Hannibal’s voice was heard from the kitchen. He usually didn’t call out like that. He never raised his voice. She stood quickly, moving towards the kitchen.
Hannibal stood in the kitchen, the plates neatly prepared before him. He glances up at her entrance. “Ah. Sorry for the harsh tone. It shouldn’t have come out that way.”
She nods, “you didn’t intend for it to be so.”
He sighs, “Yes. That’s true. I just…. It’s hard to see someone admire what is mine.”
She nods again, “I understand.”
“I wasn’t only talking about him admiring you,” Hannibal stated, “you seemed to like him just the same.”
She scoffs, “As if you don’t like him yourself, Lecter.”
Hannibal’s lips pull into a smile. He was caught. “I suppose you’re right, bella. As always.”
She gives him a knowing look, taking two of the plate carefully, one in each hand, and walks to the dining room. Will still sits at the large table, a nervous look in his eyes.
She sets a plate in front of him carefully, “Don’t ask me what it is, Graham. I’m not the cook.” 
His lips now pull into a smile, as he nods, “I see. Thank you, anyways.”
She sets her plate down in front of her, sitting down gracefully. Hannibal walks in, setting his plate down. He's now in his full suit, his blazer neatly buttoned. “William, I hope this is to your liking.” He sits himself at the head of the table. 
It’s a rather awkward dinner, as they all give each other obvious glances. Everyone at this table adored one another. Will and Y/N were the anxious ones, but as each conversation digressed, Hannibal’s grin only grew. He can read the two of them like an open book, and he was enjoying the book in front of him. 
As they neared the end of their dinner, Y/N happily collected the plates and disappeared into the kitchen. Hannibal took this opportunity to his advantage. He leans towards Will, his voice low, “I see how you look at her, William.” 
Will freezes, staring at the table. “I don’t believe my gaze is that different between her and you.”
Hannibal smirks, tilting his head, “No. I don’t believe it is too different.” 
Y/N enters the room again, her hand gliding across Hannibal’s shoulders as she walks around his chair. She stops behind him, leaning over him to kiss his cheek gently. He smiles at this, reaching his own hand up, and grabbing her jaw quickly before she can move away. He twists his body slightly to kiss her on the lips. She pulls back in shock but doesn’t go far due to the grip on her jaw. He smiles into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of the stare from Will. He lets her go, letting her catch her breath. She moves back to her chair with a soft pink now on her cheeks. 
Will lets out a deep breath, calming himself. Hannibal knows it, and he smiles at his darling wife.
“Should we invite William over again, mia bella?”
Her eyes glance over from her husband to Will, full of mischief.
“I think we should.”
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Author's note (part 2): It's so easy to read a piece and critique it, but when it's your own.... golly. How can I go so easy on myself and yet so difficult to please???
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venusbyline · 28 days
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i can fix him (no really i can)
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coryosbaby · 2 months
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I am BEGGING you to write about hannigram x innocent fem reader. mayyyybee featuring age gap and breeding? :) she just asks them "what does break my belt mean?" and oh..
Caretaker… Hannigram x fem! Reader
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Synopsis: it’s up to Will and Hannibal to take care of you, however that may be.
Content warning . 18+, MDNI age gap (reader is in her early 20s), spanking/usage of belts, punishments, dumbification, threesome, cum play, daddy kink . hard dom! Hannibal, soft dom! Will
Author’s Note: I didn’t know how to go about this (my brain isn’t braining rn) so I did smth similar :) this is literally pure filth like Im ovulating sorry
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“You need to stop being so hard on yourself.”
Will’s voice is soft as he gently rubs your sock clad feet, watching the small wince that you make when he grazes over a bruised toe. You adjust yourself on your bed, bottom becoming numb from how long you’ve been sitting. You slide the sleeves of your dress back up on your shoulders— they have a hard time staying up, and it’s something that annoys you incredibly.
“He’s right,” Hannibal chimes from the cushioned seat in the corner of the room. He closes the book in his hand and sets it on the desk beside him. It’s funny, how different these two men look in your pink, frilly room. “You’re working yourself too hard, little one.”
You frown, feeling the bed dip as Hannibal joins you and Will’s side.
“But ballet is important to me.”
“So is your health,” Will replies, and notices the way you seem to fidget in your dress. “Is your dress bothering you, baby?”
You nod, heat creeping up your neck when Will lifts the hem of it over your head. Now clad in your bra and cotton panties, you feel open and exposed. But since it’s Hannibal and Will, you feel safer than you’ve ever been.
“Come here,” Will says, and you crawl over to the place in between his spread thighs as he leans against your headboard. Hannibal follows in quiet suit, moving to Will’s side and holding your hand in his much larger one. Will’s hands play with your hair as you think back to something you’d been wanting to ask the two for a while.
“Can one of you use your belt on me?”
The soft scrape against your scalp stops at the question.
“What?”
“I mean,” you mumble, cheeks flaring. “I was watching a video.. ‘n.. the guy, he—“
“You’ve been watching naughty videos?” Hannibal inquires. You shake your head, wide doe eyes flashing.
“No!” You reply, too quickly. “No, of course not.”
“Hmm,” the man shifts, gripping the soft skin of your jaw gently with his hand. Looking into your eyes, he can see the deceit in them. “You have, haven’t you? You know what we say about those videos, darling. They’re bad for you,” he looks back to the other man in the room. “Maybe we will have to spank her after all. Don’t you think, Will?”
“Play nice, Hannibal,” Will warns, though his mouth pulls into a small, amused smirk. “She’s sensitive. Probably doesn’t even know what she’s asking for.”
“I do.” you whine, pawing at the sleeve of Hannibal’s suit. He chuckles, thumb rubbing gently over your wrist.
“Come here then, little one,” Hannibal coos. “Over my knee.”
Your eyes widen, pouty lips dropping open in awe.
“Now?” You squeak.
Will rolls his eyes, patting you softly on the arm.
“You heard him, Bunny. Go on.”
Getting on your hands and knees, panty clad ass now revealing the puff ball bunny tail on the back of the fabric, the two of them think you’re the cutest little thing they’ve ever seen. You hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone, and watch as Will hands over his belt to Hannibal. It’s your favorite one, plain black but with a belt buckle that has your initials imprinted. Will wears it often— he’s not one to have flashy accessories, but since it was a gift from you he cherishes it dearly.
Since Will is on Hannibal’s left side, you decide to position yourself with your face directed towards him. This leads to your arms and face being smooshed against Will’s thighs, and he gently rubs your head with his hands. Hannibal hums when your ass lifts up for him, bunny tail flickering as you move your hips to get his attention.
“We should keep these on, don’t you think?” He says, fingers grazing over the bunny tail. “Too precious to pull them down, lover.”
You nod shyly, letting out a puff of air when Will’s fingers begin fumbling with the hooks on your bra. He advises you to slide the straps off your shoulders when he undoes them, and you awkwardly shuffle them off. Will’s hands move around your back to grope one of your breasts. The feeling of cold leather against your backside makes you whimper, and Hannibal positions his hand on the bottom of your thigh.
“Move your hands behind your back,” Hannibal demands. “You aren’t in any position of control. If you want to stop, you know the rules.”
“Yes, daddy,” you reply, almost immediately. You move your arms back to link them together, Will’s hands gripping the both of yours tightly to make sure you don’t move.
“Good girl,” and then, “You’re going to count each one I give you. We will stop at ten since this is your first time.”
You nod, as much as you can with your face buried in Will’s lap. You can feel the hardness in his pants, right up against your cheek, and your mouth waters.
There’s a comforting rub against your left cheek before Hannibal brings the belt down. It isn’t too bad, a slight sting that makes you jump.
“One.” You say, quietly. Your ass lifts up for more.
“Good,” Hannibal praises, soothing the skin once more. “Are you going to watch those videos again?”
You stay silent, contemplating but also being quiet on purpose. You can’t deny that Hannibal getting angry with you makes your panties drenched.
At this, Hannibal slams the belt down onto you once again. A warning. You cry out this time, feeling a burning sensation along your skin.
“Don’t make me ask you again,” he says sternly. “And don’t make me have to break my belt on you, little one.”
“What does that mean?” you whine, ditzy little head genuinely confused by such a simple term. You inhale the scent of Will’s pants, and from above you, the brunette’s hands gently soothe your back.
“Told you, Hanni,” he singsongs. “Doesn’t even know what she’s asking for.”
“Ignoring your interruption,” Hannibal says, annoyed (but not really). He directs his attention back to you. “Tell me, little one. Yes or no?”
You bite your lower lip, cheeks flaring as your arousal increases.
“Yes.”
Hannibal scoffs.
“You’re asking for it, aren’t you?”
The belt comes down on you again. You jump, tears beginning to pool along your waterline.
“What was that?” Hannibal demands harshly. “Was that a yes that I heard?”
“No!” You say. “No, daddy, I’ll never ever watch those videos again! I promise, promise…”
You thrash against the pain, and Hannibal’s palms rub the sore skin.
“Alright,” he replies. “but I’m adding five more. Naughty girls who don’t listen get punished.”
“Hannibal,” Will warns. “She’s fragile.”
“She’s a brat, is what she is, Will. Stop defending her,” Hannibal’s hands wrap around your hair, pulling your teary eyed face up and craning your neck. “Now count. Starting from three.”
The belt comes down again, and your hands ache, along with your bottom.
“T-Three.” You say. The belt comes down on you again, and again. You count to five.
“You really need to be harder on her,” Hannibal says to Will, who’s subtly grinding against your face as he watches you writhe below him. “She needs to learn that her actions have consequences.”
“I know,” Will sighs, then gently taps the tip of your nose, and smiles softly. “But look at how precious she is.”
Hannibal rolls his eyes, bringing out the sixth then seventh hit. You can already feel the blooming of bruises by the time you hit number ten, and your aching pussy grinds down into Hannibal’s thigh. He seems to allow this, and by the twelfth hit, he’s teasing you about it.
“Is this arousing you, lover?” He asks, amused. “You only have three more to go. You better enjoy it.”
“Mm, she is,” Will cuts in, reaching down between your legs to feel your soaked panties. “Little pussy is so wet,” and then, “You ruined your panties, pup.”
Mewling, you allow another smack to come down onto your ass.
“T-Thirteen,” you whimper out. “Could.. could you buy me some new panties, Will?”
Another smack. Another number. Will tilts his head, staring at your panty clad ass.
“Mm,” he replies. “I don’t know, Hannibal. What do you think?” His fingers grasp the puff ball tail and tug it up. This makes your panties ride up in between your folds, and you gasp, humiliated. “I think baby blue would really suit her.”
“That, or lilac,” the eldest man replies. “We’ll get you a new set, little one. But only because it benefits us as much as it benefits you.”
You smile, giddy with excitement to take another shopping trip. Hannibal rubs your ass again, and Will kisses you on the head.
“One more for us, alright?”
You nod, perky ass throbbing with heat. Hannibal slams the belt down, and this time you let out a sob. It was the harshest hit, one sure to leave a welt or two. Hannibal coos when he sees your look of pain, throwing the belt to the side and gently massaging you.
“Shhh. It’s alright. Come here, darling.”
You maneuver your body to slide in between Hannibal’s legs, pulling him into a hug. His arms wrap around your smaller form, and he kisses your hair, allowing you to bury your face into his shoulder. You let out a few more stray tears while he and Will both soothe the ache on your bottom.
“You know we only do this because we have to.” Hannibal murmurs.
“I know, daddy.”
“Actions have consequences, and you asked for this sort of punishment. So we decided to give it to you,” he explains, and pulls away to wipe away your tears with his thumbs. “Did you enjoy it?”
You nod, a small smile grazing your lips.
“I did. I enjoyed it a lot.”
“Good,” he replies. “And since you’ve taken your punishment so well, I’m giving you the opportunity to ask for something. Whatever you want, you can have it.”
Your eyes brighten.
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
You lick your lips, contemplating your options with excitement.
“Hmm,” you say, and then finally come to your decision. You look over to your second boyfriend, who seems to be watching you with an almost love struck gaze. “I want Will… want his mouth. Please?”
Will licks his lips at the statement. Oral is one of his favorite things to give.
“Very well,” Hannibal says, then gestures for Will. “She can lay in between my legs. You lay between hers.”
Will nods, and you happily turn around and begin sliding off your panties. Spreading your legs, you look up at Will with doe eyes as he approaches you. His lips touch yours, sliding easily against the expanse of your mouth. When he pulls away, the scent of your arousal overtakes his senses. He groans, moving down in between your legs.
Hannibal’s big arms wrap around your shoulders, keeping you still. Will flawlessly licks a stripe up your slit, making you whimper and hold onto Hannibal for dear life as he begins to eat you like a man starved. His mouth works wonders against your tiny hole and aching clit as he groans into your cunt, drinking your sweet juices like it’s nectar of the Gods.
“How does she taste?” Hannibal asks, even though he already knows the answer. He loves to go down on you just as much as the other man.
Will pulls away, chin dripping and hair disheveled.
“So fuckin’ sweet,” he gasps out, nosing at your folds. His thumbs spread them apart, exposing your hole that’s coated in creamy slick. “Cutest fuckin’ cunt I’ve ever seen.”
You clench, letting him see the opening and closing of your hole. You want him to stick his tongue back inside.
You don’t have to wait long for that, because a mere second later Hannibal’s big hand splays across the back of Will’s head and pushes him back down. Will lets out a moan at this, allowing Hannibal to guide his head up and down and every which way that brings you closer and closer to your peak. Hannibal smirks, watching the way you writhe under his tongue and watch Will with hungry, lidded eyes.
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” He says, and you can feel his hardness pressing against your back.
Drool seeps down your chin as you nod.
“Mhm..” you whine out. Your hands go to the boy’s hair, and he whimpers when you tug on the strands.
“He likes when you do that,” Hannibal observes, his tone low. He kisses the shell of your ear. “Do it again.”
You comply, watching the way Will’s hips grind down into the mattress when it happens and the way Hannibal lets out a heavy breath. Will’s mouth works harder, bringing your clit in between his lips and lightly sucking. You gasp out his name, hips moving against him in tandem.
“Will, Daddy.. ‘m so close..”
“Close, yes?” Hannibal taunts, and his grip around your throat tightens. His biceps practically squeeze your neck as you near closer and closer to your high, your throat gasping for breath. When your orgasm overtakes you, Hannibal loosens his grip, but not quite. You let out a raw, pleasure filled moan when you cum, Will working you through until the point of overstimulation, your legs shaking and your sock clad feet pushing on his shoulders. He chuckles when he pulls away, a pleased grin forming as he wipes his slick coated mouth on the back of his wrist. And boy, is it a sight. He licks up the remaining remnants of your arousal with his tongue, hands splaying on either side of you and Hannibal’s legs so he can move up and kiss you filthily on the mouth. Hannibal is next, a tender peck that makes the cock against your lower back twitch. It has him licking his lips when Will pulls away, his lashes fluttering as he sighs in content. He presses a kiss to your mouth, too, and relaxes even further.
It’s only a mere moment of rest before you can feel that familiar throb again, and the sight of your two boys bulging through their pants makes you drool. You spread your legs, overstimulated pussy on full display.
Will, who had been laying at the foot of the bed in front of the both of you, watches with hunger. You lean away from Hannibal, instead turning yourself on your knees and presenting yourself to Will, who’s already positioning himself behind you eagerly. Hannibal, the most patient out of all three of you, no doubt, finally takes his aching cock out of his pants and wraps a hand around himself at the scene. You hear the rustling of Will’s fly being undone, then his length is pressed against your ass and wet, oh so wet, even when he slides it in between your folds and sheathes himself inside your little hole with one swift movement. Your mouth drops open at the sensation of being filled, your hands finding purchase on Hannibal’s thick thighs in front of you. His cock is hitting his stomach, red and leaking drops of precum down the tip, and you watch as Hannibal rubs it up and down with his hand. You look up at him pleadingly as Will begins to pound you into the mattress.
“You want daddy’s cock in your mouth, is that it?” Hannibal teases, and you nod. He sighs, directing the tip of his cock towards you. “Open wide, sweet girl.”
You happily obey, tongue lolling out to lick at his tip, his stringy precum sticking to your bottom lip and the head of his cock, tasting absolutely divine. Will’s hands roam over your ass as his cock bullies your gummy walls.
“Mm, Hanni got you good, didn’t he, baby?” He says, examining the marks. “Gonna have to put some lotion on that later.”
The use of the nickname in Will’s mouth is a mockery of your own. You nod, however, pouting.
“Mhm. But Daddy knows what’s best for me.”
“That’s right,” Hannibal grunts out, when you take him fully down your throat. “Dumb little girls like you can’t think for themselves. That’s why you need Will and I to take care of you,” and then, “God, darling, your mouth is just perfect.”
You hum, choking on him. Will’s fingers bruise your hips now, his balls slapping against your ass with every harsh thrust. Your pussy quakes around him, clamping down on his length. His breath is warm against your ear as he pushes in and out of you.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby..” as he watches your ass bounce back against him.
“Look at that tight little pussy, practically choking my dick.” as he spreads your cheeks apart, watching the way you take him.
“Hannibal’s cock tastes good, doesn’t it?” As you come up for air and gasp, drool soaking your neck and chin.
You can feel when he gets close by the way his hips stutter, and with a lewd whine hes babbling endlessly.
“I’m gonna cum,” he says. “Gonna cum in this slut pussy— god, squeeze me just like that.”
“Please,” you whimper endlessly, and you can hear Hannibal let out a breathy chuckle.
“She wants it. She wants you to cum in her cunt,” his voice drops an octave as he watches the boy. “Come on. I need something to lubricate her more once I get my turn, don’t I?”
“Oh—“
Will’s eyes roll back, his body tensing up as he finally releases inside her. She clenches down on him, milking him for all he’s worth as he shoots rope after rope deep inside her gaping pussy. Hannibal’s fingers nestle into the boy’s hair as he rides out his orgasm, gently twirling the soft locks in between his fingers. You watch with your mouth turned into an o, burying yourself deeper against Hannibal’s chest in retaliation.
“There you go,” Hannibal coos when Will sighs against your chest, spent. “Good boy.”
“Tease,” Will mumbles back to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. His eyes look up at you and he smiles. “Are you okay?”
You giggle, nodding your head.
“More than okay.”
He looks down at the mess between your thighs as he pulls out, grunting. A trail of his spend pools out of you and onto the sheets.
His fingers begin to move up to your drenched clit— you need release to, after all, and Will is never a selfish lover—but before he can, Hannibal’s hand grabs his wrist.
“No,” he utters. “Let me, once I’m inside her.”
“Like I said,” Will grumbles, moving out from between your legs to settle back against the headboard. “Tease.”
Hannibal rolls his eyes, guiding you to turn around and face him. You bite your lower lip at the feeling of Will’s cum trailing down your thighs. Hannibal undoes his belt, pulling down his zipper so his pants are open and his briefs are exposed.
“Take me out, darling.”
She reaches into the waistband of his underwear, pulling his length out and giving it a few languid strokes. Will watches, his spent cock twitching against his stomach. He ignores it, instead deciding to move to your side and press a kiss to your heated cheek. His hand provides a comforting pressure to the back of your head as he settles it in your hair. Hannibal tilts his head, grabbing the back of your thighs and pulling you into his lap.
“Put my cock inside you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Be a good girl.”
Your lashes flutter at the vulgar term spilling from the usually polite man’s lips. Will’s hands scrape against your scalp and your brain is fuzzy with how good it all feels. Grabbing Hannibal’s length in your hand, you position your dripping cunt over the tip of his cock.
Sinking down makes your brows furrow. Hannibal isn’t as big as Will, but that isn’t saying much. The man still has a considerable size, and his girth stretches your gummy walls exceptionally. You whimper, settling down to the very base of his cock. Hannibal’s head tilts back and hits the headboard, his eyes squeezing shut to get used to the sensation of you wrapped around him. His big hands splay across your hips and Will nuzzles your throat affectionately.
“Daddy.” you whine, your little pussy beginning to rock onto Hannibal.
“Yes?”
“Fuck me, please?”
He smiles, pulling you further against him so he can brace his feet underneath you. His cock gives a few shallow thrusts, getting used to your heat, before moving into more dangerous territory. It isn’t long before he’s jackhammering into you, your head tilted back by Will’s big hands. He demands you open your mouth, and you do. A glob of spit lands on your tongue, which you swallow greedily. Hannibal groans as he watches the scene.
“Filthy little things,” he mutters, pulling you into a kiss. You both share Will’s saliva on your intertwining tongues.
Your thighs shake as Hannibal’s cock and balls leak with Will’s cum. The sound is utterly sinful— the gushing sounds of his cock pummeling your filled pussy, his balls slapping against your ass, the sobs tearing through your throat. Tears stream down your cheeks and you’re sobbing.
Hannibal’s fingers reach down to your clit, deftly rubbing against the swollen nub exactly the way you like. It isn’t long before you reach your peak, your pussy clenching down as a string of filthy words makes its way out of your throat, burying your face in Hannibal’s white button down and staining it with salty tears. Will is an absolute sweetheart, guiding your hips with his hands to help you, cooing little sweet sayings in your ear. He cakes your throat in pretty red marks.
Hannibal draws closer to his orgasm, small grunts and heavy breaths spilling out of his mouth. It isn’t long before he empties inside you, filling you up with a second load of sticky, white cum. He pulls your limp body off of his length, your pussy making a gushing sound as both of your boyfriend’s dribble out of you. The two men sigh when they see it, their cocks both twitching at the sight.
But all three of you have had enough for the day— or at least for the next few hours. Hannibal disappears out of the room for a moment to bring back a glass of water and lotion. He holds the water to your lips and sweetly coos, “you’ve been such an obedient girl. Drink, okay?”
You do, of course. You drink the whole damn glass.
After going into the bathroom to pee and wipe your cum covered thighs, Hannibal lotions your sore bottom with gentle hands. After this you finally crawl back into bed, moving onto your stomach and hugging your pillow tightly. Will chuckles.
“You don’t want a bubble bath?” He asks, because that’s usually what you request. But you just shake your head, your eyes fluttering shut. Not asleep, but almost. Will nods his head. “Later then, sweet girl.”
The boy crawls to your side, wrapping his big arm around you and pulling you to his side. Hannibal soon joins, his tie loosened and jacket off, pants unbuttoned. It’s rare to see him in such a messy state, relaxed. Only you and Will can help him unwind like this.
He lays on his back, and you lay your head on his chest, inhaling his strong, expensive cologne. Beside you, you can smell the aftershave that Will wears— Hannibal teases him about it, but you’re quite fond of it. It smells like home.
They smell like home.
You smile sleepily, watching with barely open eyes as Hannibal and Will’s hands connect over you. As you fall into a peaceful sleep, the two men on either side of you stay wide awake.
After a moment, Will chuckles.
“So I’m assuming we’ll be using my belt more often?”
“Guaranteed,” hannibal confirms, watching you drool onto his shirt in your sleep. He never mentions it to you because he doesn’t want you to be embarrassed. “Perhaps we can use it on you next time, Will”
The younger man scoffs, his cheeks flaring as he buries his face into your hair.
“Shut up, Hanni.”
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:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz
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alfjorcitos · 10 months
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omgg he's soo cute (i want to peg him. i want to make him whimper. i want to edge him till he cries and begs me to cum)
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ihavemanyhusbands · 5 months
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Routine Check Up
Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Fem!Reader
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Also on AO3
Summary: The good Dr. Lecter stops by to check up on Will Graham's favorite pet.
Word Count: 2.3k words
Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, i think i was possessed while writing this, Plot? What fucking plot?, light petplay... but in the female gaze ig, Dom/Sub dynamic, light dehumanization, threesome, Hannibal gets to put his PhD to good use,Oral, unprotected p in v (don't you dare) ,dirty talk, self indulgent afffff, ....breeding kink?
A/N: I DECIDED TO SAY FUCK IT. @glitchedpup dedicating it to you here too!
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You woke to the sound of a car pulling up the gravel road, and Will’s dogs barking outside.
On the bedside clock, it read eight thirty AM. You usually woke up around the same time as Will, but you supposed he’d let you sleep in a little longer this time. It was a Sunday, after all.
Moments later, there was knocking on the front door. Will padded over from the kitchen and he opened it to reveal Hannibal. You sat up in the bed, curious, and crawled forward a little to get a better look.
“Hannibal,” he greeted in an even tone, even if you could tell he was a little surprised. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Just a routine check-up, Will,” he said with a small shrug, looking over his shoulder at you. “Have to keep her healthy, right?”
“No courtesy call beforehand? That’s uncharacteristic of you,” Will noted, stepping aside to let him in. “I suppose you meant to surprise us.”
Once more, Hannibal smiled enigmatically, a glint of mischief in his amber eyes. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by.”
He hung up his jacket by the door, and Will motioned for you to stand up and come closer. 
You shot him a quizzical look, but made no questions as you scurried over to them, standing at attention next to Will.
“Hello, there,” Hannibal said amicably. “Mind if I take a look at you?”
You nodded quickly, almost eagerly. Will raised an eyebrow at this, but Hannibal kept his eyes on you. 
This was one of his little games, a constant reminder of who had the upper hand. You knew what he called you to others — Will Graham’s favorite pet. 
Still, you didn’t mind playing along, and it seemed like Will didn’t either. You weren’t sure what that said about you, but you found it wasn’t quite as mortifying as one might expect.
“I’ll need her to…” Hannibal trailed off, gesturing at your figure.
“Strip,” Will commanded, barely glancing at you.
You did as told, eyeing the doctor peripherally. He was appraising you as well, slightly impressed at your unflinching obedience. 
You’d been well trained, after all.
You weren’t wearing much, just one of Will’s t-shirts and cotton underwear, both of which fell unceremoniously to the floor. You didn’t cover yourself as you were bared to the room, instead keeping your expression neutral and arms at your sides.
“Where do you need me?” You asked, voice low.
“Just where you are is fine,” he said, setting down his bag. “Now let’s see…”
First, he checked your pulse, fingers resting gently on your wrist as he looked down at his watch. When his fingers moved to your neck, you kept eye contact as he felt your lymph nodes, tracing up to your jaw, behind your ear and down to your collarbones.
His eyes watched your throat work as you swallowed hard, glancing at Will. Hannibal knew just how much you trusted him to guide you. You cared for him the same way he cared for you, and surrender was a price you gladly paid for it.
For a long time, you had a constant need to be in control of not just yourself, but also your surroundings. Every detail had to be accounted for; Every single possibility dissected and analyzed. It was essential for survival. 
That was until you met Will, and you grew sick and tired of control. There were no more ruins to scurry out of, or prevent. Devotion was all that was left, and that was something Hannibal could understand.
“Open your mouth, please. Let’s see these teeth,” Hannibal instructed. 
Once more, you did as told. He hummed in thought as he looked over your canines and front teeth. Then he stretched your lips back with two fingers so he could see all of your molars, too. 
“Good,” he murmured under his breath, and for a brief, wild moment, you wanted to sink your teeth into his hand. 
His thumb then swiped over your bottom lip, and it was then that you gave in to your urges. You nipped at it, holding it between your teeth for a moment.
“Ah, ah,” Will tsked, reaching over and grabbing the back of your neck firmly. 
He gave you a stern look, and you let go of Hannibal’s thumb grudgingly.
Hannibal chuckled, delighted. “Sharp, as expected. Apologies, had to coax that out of her.”
Playing with fire, you thought, figuring that was exactly what he wanted. You wondered if you’d get a better taste of him at some point.
With a stethoscope — because he took his role very seriously — he checked your heartbeat and your breathing, both of which seemed to quicken a little at his nearness.
“No need to be nervous,” he said reassuringly, but his smile told you he was very much enjoying making you feel that way.
The end of the stethoscope was cold against your flesh, which made you shudder a little. Your nipples hardened, too, which was a detail he did not miss.
A soft, pleasured hum escaped you as his fingers grazed the skin right under your breasts, his touch not entirely clinically detached.
“Quiet, now. Let the doctor do his work,” Will chastised.
For his part, Hannibal inhaled deeply, closing his eyes momentarily.
“Someone’s in heat,” he noted, sharing a look with Will. “I could take care of it, if you like.”
Will’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Hmm, that explains why she’s been humping my leg. But is it necessary?”
“You wouldn’t want to leave her unattended, would you?”
You tried not to let a traitorous blush spread across your cheeks at Will’s analyzing gaze, dipping your chin slightly in confirmation.
“I might just have to check your temperature, too,” Hannibal added, tilting his head to one side. “Could I have you bend over the couch, please?”
Will nodded towards it, and off you went, kneeling on the armrest and placing your hands on the cushion. 
You kept still as the doctor approached with slow, easy steps. His fingers traced the curve of your ass before dipping lower, to the source of your ache.
Will sat beside your head, tucking your hair behind your ear. He watched you shoot Hannibal a frustrated look as he teased you, fingers gliding up your slit. He gripped your chin just as you bared your teeth, wanting to bite once more.
Then, you swallowed back a low whine as he easily sank his middle finger into you. You heard his huff of amusement as you pushed your hips back needily.
“Running a little hot…” Hannibal mused. “We’ve got to remedy that, don’t we?”
You shot him another look, pleading this time. Your pupils were blown wide with desire, almost swallowing your irises, and your breaths came out long and slow.
You gripped one of Will’s arms, urging him towards you, desperate to touch him as well.
“Think you deserve a treat?” He murmured, raising an eyebrow. “Go on, earn it.”
Will scooted closer, your head now on his lap. You breathed in his familiar scent, and you licked his crotch through the thin fabric of his boxers.
Hannibal chuckled. “Oh, but she’s being so good…”
Will glanced up at him. “Hmm, she’s been showing off a little for you. Can’t let that become a habit.”
Hannibal’s hand retreated, and a complaint was starting to form in your throat when you heard the metallic clink of his belt, followed by the rasp of his zipper being pulled down. 
You also heard a wet pop as he sucked your arousal off his finger, loving the taste of you. Oh, he’d definitely need to try it directly from the source, too. 
“Not to worry, we’ll take good care of her,” he purred, bending closer to your ear. “Just needed some extra attention is all, didn’t you?” 
You nodded, spreading your knees further apart. Will’s hand rested on your head as you continued to lap at him. You felt him hardening against your insistent tongue, lips tracing the outline of his shaft. The smell and the heat of him were making you delirious with lust, driving any sort of coherency out the window.
Behind you, Hannibal spread you open with both hands in order to get a better look at his next meal. He knelt, pushing his slacks down and gripping himself. 
His hot breath blew against your soaked core for a mere second before he licked you clit to ass in one long, languid stripe. His expert tongue then dipped into the deep well of your cunt, and you felt the vibration of his groan.
He stroked himself as he continued his ministrations, closing his eyes as all his other senses were invaded by you.
You let out a choked whine, eyes fluttering closed as you pressed your cheek against Will’s growing bulge. He had you lift your head as he shifted his hips, pulling off his boxers and finally letting you get your reward. 
You practically melted at the taste of him as you took him into your mouth — musky and slightly salty. You knew the exact way he liked to be tended to, guiding yourself by the sounds he made.
You moaned around him, and he gathered your hair in his fist, keeping it away from your face. He kept your head down for a moment when he was all the way down your throat, and you breathed slowly through your nose. 
“There we go,” Will sighed, petting your head. “That’s it.”
Your mind went blank for a moment as Hannibal lapped up all your arousal with gusto. Will let you come up for air, gently pulling you up by the hair to meet his lips in a sloppy kiss. 
Before your head descended once more, you looked at him, glassy-eyed and smiling beatifically. The same adoration was mirrored in his eyes as he tenderly ran the back of his finger down your cheek.
“Atta girl, taking it all so well,” Hannibal praised, standing up. “I think you’re ready for me.”
He slowly eased into you, letting out a low groan as he bottomed out. You sucked in a breath, adjusting to the delicious stretch. Instinctually, you moved against him, seeking much more friction than he was currently providing.
“Don’t have to do… much of the work myself,” He grunted, grabbing your hips in a half-attempt to slow you down. “So very eager, this one.”
“Loves to please. Everything she gets, she earns,” Will said proudly. “Makes it so much better, doesn’t it?”
“Well trained indeed.”
At such an angle, you could feel Hannibal reaching impossibly deep, hitting a spot that made your eyes roll back in your skull. You moaned against Will’s skin, teeth digging lightly into his inner thigh. 
As bad as you might want it, you knew he wouldn’t let you make him come with your mouth. He was next in line after Hannibal, and he intended to leave a lasting impression. That wasn’t to say he didn’t want you to keep touching him, though. 
Hannibal’s grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder, in which he chased his release. You were already clenching him hard, close to the edge yourself. Then one of his hands reached between your legs, rubbing your clit in quick, tight circles.
Heat spread throughout you like wildfire, all-consuming. You reached back to grip one of his forearms, unsure if it was a plead for mercy or for him to never stop. It didn’t take long for you to come undone, mouth slack in pleasure as you moaned wantonly, melting into the heady feeling of them both.
Soon after, Hannibal’s hips stuttered, and then they stopped when he was fully sheathed inside of you. You could feel him pulsate as he was gripped in his own euphoria, branding you much like Will had done countless times before. 
Once more, Will kissed you, murmuring a soft good girl against your lips. Hannibal pulled out of you, panting as he bent forward to plant a kiss on your spine. 
“I think she can give us another one,” he said. “In fact, I highly recommend it.”
Will nodded in agreement. “Doctor’s orders.”
He moved you onto the couch cushions as they switched places. Hannibal presented himself before you, leaning back with a lupine sort of smirk.
Will’s thrusts were swift and savage as you licked Hannibal clean. It was only polite to tend to the doctor after being so very helpful. Your tongue was especially enthusiastic as you neared your second orgasm. 
His fingers dug into your flesh hard enough to bruise. By his more unrestrained sounds, you could tell he was right there with you. When he came, his body slumped forward, chest flush against your back.
His hot breath was against your neck as he pressed himself tighter against you. He was still buried to the hilt, making sure no drop was wasted.
When he unsheathed himself from you, you collapsed onto the couch, body spread between the two of them. You felt boneless and utterly sated, swimming in dopamine.
“Good job. That should hold you for some time, hmm?” Hannibal said, looking down at you resting on his lap.
Will huffed in amusement, caressing your legs. “You’ll find she’s quite insatiable.”
The two shared a look, all too happy to shoulder the so-called burden of your constant hunger.
“You should’ve just said you missed me, Doctor Lecter,” you said with a teasing grin. “Could’ve saved us the theatrics.”
He smirked. “Oh, but where’s the fun in that?”
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phntmeii · 7 months
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Hil
Im not sure if your taking requests for writing, but if you are I was wondering if you could do a slashers × S/O who is very strong but doesn't look it?
If that makes sense...
Like the S/O is very sweet, short and small, like she looks petite and fragile but it turns out she can easily lift extremely heavy things, or can punch really hard.
Like even harder or stronger than the slasher.
If you could specifically add Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, (NBC) Hannibal and Will, and maybe Thomas Hetwit?
Sorry I don't know if that's too much to ask for, I just love your writing so much!
Being Stronger than Slashers .
[ SFW + Fem Terms]
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Pairings: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Thomas Hewitt x petite!strong!Reader General Warnings: Descriptions of Gore/Blood, Violence, Slightly OOC, Descriptions of panic attack/episode, Manipulative behavior mention
A/N: ty anon for request <33 Back to slashers :) Sad I haven’t posted more of them literally in Halloween month but I’m working on it (last second lol) </33
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Bo Sinclair
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Absolutely turned on to the fucking max when he sees your strength.
Small, sweet partners was always his type. He just loves fulfilling the typical male stereotype of being a protector over his partner.
When he turned the corner, looking to finish off the last victim of the lot within his abandoned town, only to see something better.
He watched as you effortlessly were carrying the body of the victim over your shoulder like it was nothing. Head completely caved in, more of a mass of flesh and blood than an identifiable person. Your other hand held a bloodied hammer.
Bo was completely still, but not of fear. He was standing there like a man who had completely re-fallen in love again.
His eyes were shining as his grin grew wide. Approaching, he was nothing but prideful.
His voice was light with a chuckle, thumb brushing away the blood on your cheek. “Shit, sweetheart… Never knew a pretty girl like you was so… strong. I love it.”
Vincent Sinclair
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Vincent was overprotective a lot of the time. He was insistent you were never near his work nor would you be involved when victims were in town.
He loved you too much to have you a part of him and his brothers’ work.
Vincent was slightly startled, hearing the door of his studio open. He knew both his brothers were out.
Seeing it was you, he approached, silently looking down at you. You could tell there was an air of disappointment at you being in his studio when he didn’t want you to be.
A ragged, strained voice spoke from behind his mask, “Why?”
With a shrug of your shoulders and a smile, you walked past him, further into the studio. “Bo said he needed a box in here.”
Watching you walk past, his eyes were hidden but widened as he watched you easily lift up a heavy table to look under it, scrolling past the items underneath it.
He approached confused but didn’t stop you. “Oh! Here it is!” Your arms held up a filled box of tools and parts.
Vincent followed you around curiously for the rest of the day like a shadow. He was completely fascinated by your strength, wanting to see it again.
Once you returned from helping Bo, Vincent couldn't let go of you. He kept his arms around you, head on your shoulder. His quiet, strained voice simply said, "Show me again... Please?"
Hannibal Lecter
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Hannibal always held an air of curiosity about you. Your sweet nature was like an untainted part of his life. A woman so far from himself.
Hannibal’s curiosity was never-ending. He took advantage of his intelligence to learn as much as he could. Stalking, Manipulative behaviors in “therapy”, etc.
You were almost always at his place. He liked it better that way although it provided some maintenance when it came to his extracurricular activities.
Hannibal had been making another of his fancy dinners for the two of you. The presentation had to be precise and perfect. Presentation was half the work for him.
He absentmindedly spoke while you were cutting vegetables beside him, “I have not set the chairs. I will do so in a moment, my love.”
Immediately, you wanted to assist. You always liked helping out. “I’ve got it!”
Watching you walk away, he expected to finish his current task before going off to assist you. Instead, he looked up to the doorway to see you easily walking past with a heavy wooden chair in each hand, easily carrying the two like they were just a stack of papers.
A small smirk curled at his lips as his hands slowed in their work. He whispered to himself, knowing his eager curiosity was not wasted, “You are… a delight, my love. You will make for something truly wonderful.”
Will Graham
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Will was someone who was vigilant and aware. His mind always raced a million miles an hour with tiny observations and connections.
There was something about you but he just couldn’t place it.
But, what was there to prove? You were sweet and kind, seeming so far from what he knew. That was part of why he held love for you—You weren’t him.
Will was in his head again, silently panicked by his own mind. It was torturous to live in a prison of his own violent thoughts.
You were someone who always noticed. Always could pick up when these episodes started.
Holding his hands and speaking sweetly to him to draw him back to reality, unfortunately, wasn’t working this time.
His eyes kept darting back and forth while his breath quickened. With him standing still, quivering, you had to make the choice.
With simple ease, you picked Will up bridal style, walking away with him.
It took him a moment to realize what happened, breaking out of being inside his head. His eyes just stared at you when he was placed onto his bed, sweat drenching his forehead.
He broke out into a small smile, absentmindedly licking his lips, as was his habit. "I... didn't know you could do that."
"Is it a bad thing?"
"No. It's... really attractive, actually."
Thomas Hewitt
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Tommy was always a protector. Toward his family, it was evident. A given. Toward you, it was an inherent need.
The last thing he'd ever want is for you to be hurt, especially when victims come around.
He would lead you and Luda Mae into a room, having you two barricade it while him and Hoyt took care of the unfortunate victims who made their way to the wrong home.
You waited, albeit anxiously. And it only grew once you heard a loud thud followed by Hoyt's yelling.
"Goddammit, Tommy! The fuck are you doin'?"
Immediately you knew something went wrong. Despite Luda Mae trying to keep you in the room, you ripped away the makeshift barricade on the door and rushed out.
Tommy was on all fours, holding the side of his head. A man, you assumed one of the few victims, held a hammer in his hand. He quivered holding it, as if horrified by his own self-defense.
Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest chair, pulling back and cracking it hard against the man. Aimed for his head, he dropped to the floor unconscious by the impact.
You rushed over to Tommy's side, panicked. "Tommy! Tommy! God- Are you okay?"
His arm just instinctively shot out and held you to his body, protecting you in his mind. He opened his eyes and looked past you to see the victim with broken wooden pieces of the chair on top of him.
With his mask on, his expression was hidden. But inside, his heart warmed at how you were strong enough to protect him too. His own protector.
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a-small-safe-place · 5 months
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New Addition
Platonic!Yandere Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham w/ Child!Reader
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You knocked on the door of the large house Hannibal had picked out for him and Will to live in. It was out of the way from the town, so it was odd to receive a knock. Luckily, it was Will that answered rather than Hannibal. The other kids in town said the men who lived in this house liked to kidnap badly behaving girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel. But this man didn’t seem scary. He seemed nice as he scolded their dogs for running out of the house.
“Hello, mister, I’m selling chocolate-covered pretzel sticks for my school and wanted to see if you would like to buy one?” You asked, trying to sound confident but sounding shaky instead. He didn’t seem to mind; he seemed happy you were there. “I happen to love chocolate-covered pretzels, but my husband thinks they are too simple to be a good treat. Let’s see what flavors you have.” He begins looking through the flavors you brought when his husband, Hannibal, silently walks up behind the other man. “Who is this?” He asks Will.
“Oh, this is… uh…” You stop him and introduce yourself and again explain why you are there. “This is quite a ways away from the town; surely you did not walk all the way here.” Hannibal questions. “No, sir, I rode my bike. I knew there were a few houses out this way, and I was determined to visit.”
Your determination pleases Hannibal but slightly concerns him. You’re an innocent child. You can’t be out riding your bike on these secluded roads. Will quits digging in the pretzel box, “I have to go get dog food anyway; I could bring you back to town. We will take the whole box of your pretzels since you came all this way out here.” Hannibal seems mildly annoyed by this. You remember that Will said Hannibal thinks they are too simple. Will leaves you alone with Hannibal to grab some cash. “Would you like to step inside? You’ll get sick out there.” Hannibal asks. You gratefully step in. “Your home is pretty.” You observe, earning a soft approving smile from Hannibal.
“Thank you, not many people your age appreciate style. Though you don’t seem like many people your age.” After he finishes talking, you try to stay quiet, and finally, Will returns, giving you the money for your entire box of pretzels. “Now I’m heading into town; would you like a ride?” Will offers. “Yes, please.” You tell him.
The ride back is quiet until he begins to talk. “Most kids avoid our house for their fundraisers. Do you know why?” You glance nervously, “I think it’s just too far.” It’s an obvious lie. “You don’t have to worry about being polite. I know there’s probably a crazy rumor about Hannibal and me.” You stay silent, but the silence is too loud to handle, “All the kids think you and Dr. Lecter like to kidnap and girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel.”
“Well, maybe that’s why I needed all those sweet pretzels, so Dr. Lecter and I could finish building our cottage made of candy.” He seems a little sad at the revelation of this rumor. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have said anything.” He smiles and says, “Don’t worry about it. You could make it up to me by telling me how this rumor got started.”
“One of the boys that graduated high school last year told his little brother that he broke into your home on a dare and found human meat in the freezer, but he couldn’t go to the police because he was trespassing and he was high.” You finish explaining. Will smiles a bit, but it has a nervous edge this time, “Do you think we eat bad girls and boys?” You think about it, “no, because you had a bunch of times where you could have killed and eaten me.”
“Are you a bad kid?” Will asks teasingly. “I don’t know. I get in trouble sometimes. My house is in town away, in a trailer park.” Will knew which trailer park. It was “the bad part of town” he knew because he saw the crime statistics for that area and the number of times the cops are called out there. He had seen them the few times he and Hannibal helped with the local law. Hannibal had gotten close with the town’s political figures, and Will had basically been made into an honorary detective with the law enforcement. This town was corrupt to its core, but it was away from the prying eyes of the FBI, and it’s the only place Hannibal and Will could agree on geographically. Will’s only stipulation was that there were good places to fish.
Eventually, you make it to the trailer. Will waits until you make it inside. He cannot help but think about Abigail. He could have had a potential family with Hannibal if things had gone correctly. He was happy with Hannibal and the dogs, but something about you made him want more.
Weeks pass, and he does not bring the topic up to Hannibal. Little did he know Hannibal had been keeping an extra close eye on you. He did it under the guise of getting more pretzels for Will and then special ordering one of the unique flavors that you did not have so he could come back around to "check on the order." Will finds this all out when you see him in the store and give him the order Hannibal had placed.
"That kid from the other day gave me the order you placed," Will says placing the box on the table. "I thought you hated junk food."
"I do; they were a surprise for you. You seem to have taken a liking to the child." Hannibal observes. "They're a good kid. They kind of remind me of Abigail." The room becomes silent for a second too long. Hannibal hates it when Will brings up Abigail. "You seem to like the kid too. You went out of your way to find them to order the pretzels when there were plenty of easier options to order from." Hannibal knows he has been caught.
"They're a well-behaved child, very polite. Like Abigail." Hannibal says somewhat pointedly. "Have you thought about us expanding our family? Not with another dog, but with a human?" Hannibal asks before Will has time to respond to the first statement.
"I hadn't, and then that kid came knocking at the door, and since then, it is all I can think about. But I don't want any kid. Our kid from the trailer park seems to be the best fit; it has to be them." Will explains, hoping that Hannibal will understand.
"Then so be it; they will be our child for us to protect," Hannibal says as if this is a normal conversation.
As the two men begin to work on a plan to add you to their family, their fatherly love for you grows more into fatherly obsession. You're their kid; no one gets to hurt you. Once you're safe and comfortable in their home, no one but them will get to be around you until they know you love them just as much. Hannibal wastes no time putting your room together with all of your favorite things. They were going to make your room the same way it is in the trailer until Hannibal saw the state of your room and became disgusted by the idea of that kind of room being in his expensive house.
Will tries to make a plan to make your transition to their house easier. He finds all kinds of games and activities you are sure to love, even the ones that Hannibal is convinced are bad for your growing brain.
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ficnation · 7 months
Text
Chapter 1: Dig In
Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,6k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings
Main Masterlist
NEXT CHAPTER
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Will Graham hasn’t seen you in years—years that felt like centuries to him. When you greet him, your voice is like a songbird’s serenade—sweet, peaceful, and meant only for his ears. It was a melody he missed dearly yet never dared to summon in his mind, even as the memories of you bled into his dreams.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, voice breaking at the last word. The question is not hostile, but it’s not friendly either. He knows you didn’t expect him to greet you like an old friend would. You know him too well for that—or at least you knew him before Hannibal Lecter barged into his life.
A smile crawls up your face, but it never reaches your eyes. You came here because you know, you know someone’s version of the story. But you crave to see the truth—to find out exactly what happened—and you know that Will is the only person who can provide you with the answers you’re looking for.
Jack Crawford raises his hand, his palm facing Will in a silent greeting—almost a peace offer. He keeps his distance as he lifts your suitcases out of the trunk of his car. He’s the one that called you, told you everything you needed to know, how Will lost his mind, how he keeps insisting that an innocent man—someone he considered a friend—is the Chesapeake Ripper.
Will can’t help but snicker at the thought of how this conversation went. You don’t seem bothered by the change in his expression—you hardly ever were, and he was always surprised by your unflappable composure.
“I’m going to stay with you, Will.” It’s not a question nor a suggestion fueled by concern over his well-being. It’s a declaration, and he has absolutely no say in this matter. Jack Crawford has already made that decision for him, and Will is in no position to object—he’s well aware of it.
Will nods and gesticulates to the door of his house. It’s a reluctant invitation forced out of him by his boss’ incessant gaze.
You don’t let him think about it for much longer, fearing he’ll withdraw the offer. You walk up the stairs of the porch and cross the doorstep. The inside is no warmer than the bitter winter on the other side of the door. You shiver slightly, wrapping your arms around yourself for heat.
A flock of dogs runs up to you, wagging their tails in excitement. Some of them you’ve already met before, and some of them seem like recent additions to Will’s collection of strays. You pat each dog on the head as you take off your boots by the entrance. You note that you no longer feel like you are just another stray Will has taken into his home.
The warmth of the friendly dogs quickly makes you forget how much you don’t belong here; you enjoy their company for a moment before reluctantly moving on to explore the room.
Not much has changed since the last time you were here. Will’s bed is still in the room, and you remember the time he confessed to you that it makes him feel more aware of his surroundings—gives him a sparse flicker of safety. He has easy access to the windows overlooking the outside, and he hears whenever someone walks up the stairs to his porch. It’s a small shred of comfort to cling to in the midst of his torment—you understand his reasoning.
The fireplace is the same one you used to warm up in front of every morning when you slept over—just surrounded by more dog beds than before. The old, simple in their design but surprisingly comfortable armchairs stand in their designated spots. Dog toys litter the carpeted floor, while books and familiar trinkets overwhelm the shelves, though if you look more closely, you find new additions mixed in with the old.
“Nothing has changed,” you say to yourself and the chill air of the room. You don’t hear Will’s footsteps as he joins you in the heart of his house.
“I did.” His words make your head whip around to face him, your eyes finding his. There’s a certain darkness in his statement—one you recognize.
The brown curls on his head frame his face in an untamed mess. He’s beautiful, and you find yourself still affected by his proximity.
“I don’t think you did.”
“You’ve been here for seven minutes, I can’t imagine you know much,” Will retorted.
“I know you, Will.” You meet his eyes for a few seconds—it doesn’t take much longer for him to look away. He hasn’t changed.
“Not anymore. Believe me,” his voice is certain and steady, but his hands shake as he reaches for your cozy black coat.
You let him slide it off your shoulders—the chill of the room refreshing. Will Graham isn’t a gentleman—he’s never conformed to society’s expectations. The gesture isn’t meant to impress you, make you swoon, or simply check a box. He does it because he still feels something toward you—he still cares.
You don’t talk much after that. Will makes some space for your stuff in his closet and leaves your suitcases in one of the many empty rooms. You thank him with another smile that doesn’t reach your eyes—there’s too much worry in them to convey your gratitude.
He goes on a walk with the dogs while you decide to take stock of his fridge and cupboards in search of any ingredients that you could possibly turn into a late dinner—french crepes filled with whatever jam or other sweet spreading he has in his kitchen.
You make yourself cozy in one of the armchairs in front of the crackling fireplace, your legs tucked comfortably beneath you when the door opens, and a blast of cold winter air rushes in along with seven dogs, melting snow clinging onto their fur stubbornly. They sniff around the room in search of the source of the sweet, delicious smell.
Will follows in their steps, taking off his boots by the door. It won’t take long for his socks to soak up the drops of water scattered over the floor—remnants of the snow shaken off by the happy furry beasts. He says nothing for a few long minutes, merely taking in your form, the sweet smell, and the cozy atmosphere. It feels like you belong here, even if just for a moment until you deem him deranged and leave again for long years.
“Crepes?” he asks finally, sliding off his heavy jacket. Will imprints on his memory the image of you so peaceful and comfortable in his home, in his presence.
You hum in response, sticking the fork back into your mouth. “I only found jam and peanut butter.”
“It’s an accomplishment you found anything at all.” He chuckles but isn’t truly amused by it—it is a pitiful sound.
The brunet disappears into the kitchen, and when he returns, his plate is filled with food. He sits down in the other armchair with a heavy sigh—a sound so murky only an old man could make or someone so exhausted with life they didn’t see a point in it anymore.
“I believe you, you know?”
Will’s head shoots up in your direction; he almost chokes on his crepes. He didn’t foresee that at all—the thought of you believing him without even hearing his side of the story, believing in his conviction that Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper without even asking for evidence. When everyone around him considered him delusional and regarded his accusation with ignorance or anger—you believed him. He straightens up in his seat, looking at you expectantly, begging silently for you to continue.
“I suppose Jack didn’t tell you why exactly am I here, huh?” Will shakes his head, making you sigh deeply as you mindlessly stab the remaining crepe on your plate with the fork—he notices the anger simmering behind your irises. “Figured. They found my father’s killer in our old house.”
“Dead?”
You nod in confirmation.
“Suicide.” Your voice isn’t relieved; it doesn’t incandesce with light like it should.
Will knows that sometimes, even when the murderer is caught or killed, it takes a while to really settle into witnesses’ minds, and sometimes, they never taste that sweetness of relief for the rest of their lives. Yet, it doesn’t seem to be the problem in your case.
“He was missing a lot of blood and it didn’t appear to be anything abnormal back then so they considered the case solved. Let us come out of hiding.”
“Except it wasn’t a suicide,” the man finishes your thought. He’s right—like always. “Someone wanted you to come back… The real killer?”
He looks at you for confirmation, but his idea seems to be too facile—child’s play. If that were the case, the FBI wouldn’t let you stay with him without protection—unless they considered him your protector. Something feels off about it.
“Will, my sister was killed by the Chesapeake Ripper.”
Will stares at you with his eyes wide open. He’s looking at your face in a way that he’s never looked before. He can finally see you, your emotions, and despair—the mask you hid them under shatters into crumbs and floats away with his shaky breath. He hears the misery in your voice now—almost sees your winsome heart smashed into a million pieces inside your chest.
“I’m so sorry… I—” Will’s words are automatic as he processes your statement. He stays perfectly still in his armchair. “I didn’t—”
“What’s done is done, Will,” you interrupt him, shaking your head—a silent plea that he doesn’t blame himself for it. It doesn’t help—he still does.
The moment you stop talking, he can hear the faint ticking of the watch on your wrist. He looks at you, waiting for more to come, but you stay silent. Your eyes linger on your plate with a half-eaten crepe—the jam spilling out onto the white ceramic canvas; you seem to be contemplating something.
He remembers back on that stormy night when you came home at the end of a particularly complicated and brutal investigation—soaked and chilled to the bone. You had a small cut on your arm, not big enough to require stitches, but he wanted—no, he needed—to clean it up and kiss it all better, anyway.
Will could tend to a cut on your skin, but he couldn’t scour the one on your soul—he couldn’t kiss it all better. He always felt the need to fix things—fix you. Now? He has no idea how to take that pain away from you.
He knows he should be glad to see you—glad to see you again. But right now, there’s only sadness, confusion, and guilt because, somehow, this isn’t quite you. There has been this beautiful, bright light shining from you, but it’s missing, and the man feels the loss of it inside. He wants to reach out and take this sadness away from you, comfort you, and bring back that light you always had. He almost wants to cry—he doesn’t even know why himself.
Will swallows hard and finally speaks, voice shaking, “Can I ask you something?”
He hesitates as if afraid of the potential answer. The only thing keeping him from sinking into emptiness is your presence, and asking the wrong question might have a devastating effect. Will looks at you—eyes pleading for understanding.
“Yes. Of course…”
“What did he take?” He almost doesn’t recognize his voice. It seems to be a mere whimper—a noise buried deep within a wounded animal’s throat.
“Her heart.”
Your words strike him like a bullet. Will closes his eyes, trying hard to keep the salty water from filling them. The loss of one heart was unbearable, losing another one physically… He tries to find a reason not to be angry at fate—but there is none. The world gave you back to him, but at what cost?
He reaches out, taking your hand in his. His touch seems reassuring and gentle, but his eyes betray his anger. “I never should have let you leave...”
You ignore his words, looking into the void, and continue, “Her lungs.”
Another cruel twist of the dagger in his gut. He feels your hand squeeze his, almost as if it were asking for comfort. Yet, Will cannot be a comfort at this moment—he is too enraged at the thought of such brutality.
His gaze turns cold as stone, his hand tightening around yours as he holds back the emotions boiling up inside him, threatening to explode and tear everything apart. His eyes remain closed—unwilling to see any more of your pain. You can feel the anger radiating from him like heat.
If she stops breathing, my heart will stop with it—those were his words to Hannibal. Another therapy session he now deeply regrets. It is his fault—his fault that your sister died. And amongst all the hatred, anger, and remorse, he feels a bone-chilling relief that it wasn’t you in her place.
He knows it’s twisted to think like that; he shouldn’t even feel like that, but he can’t imagine his life knowing you were buried deep—six feet beneath the earth he was walking on and still breathing. He doesn’t know whether it was Hannibal’s well-thought-through plan or his fucked up mistake, but Will is grateful.
You are breathing, alive, and your pulse is beating fast beneath his tight grasp. He does not want to let go of it—not yet.
Will opens his eyes, still unable to see your face, yet so very relieved. He doesn’t let go of your hand, his fingers running over your knuckles as if, by touch, he can somehow reassure himself that you weren’t his imagination.
The anger inside him still roils, but he no longer shows it. The only hint of his discomfort is the tightness with which he holds your hand.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he mumbles out, almost inaudible.
“No, Will, I won’t let anything happen to you.” You meet his gaze, your eyes almost begging. “I can’t lose you too. You’re the only one I have left.”
Will smiles at you sadly. His eyes filled with a strange light, his fingers running through your hair. Your plates have been long forgotten on the nearby windowsill as he leans forward and carefully touches your cheek, running his forefinger across your lips and down to your chin.
At first, you think the gesture is affectionate—intimate. But then you notice that he’s trying to remember your every feature. It’s painful to think that someone who loved you so dearly might have forgotten your face, the feel of your skin under his touch. Maybe it’s this thought that makes your eyes well up with tears; maybe it is the gesture itself. Or possibly even both.
This moment feels so real, so raw—you are tempted to believe in it, to be hopeful for your future, at least for a moment. But after all you went through, you know that hope is a dangerous thing, and it can turn against you. It’s been so long since all your hopes have been crushed you almost forgot how to have them... And just like that, the moment vanishes, and reality crashes back.
Later that night, when you come out of the shower and crawl into his bed—your clothes sticking to the slightly damp skin, your hair in an unruly mess—he simply opens his arms.
“You claim to be my friend, yet you sleep in my bed like a lover would,” he says—he still remembers the words you whispered to him when the roles were reversed.
Will smiles at the irony, his arms wrapping around you. Your hair is still dripping, the water sliding down your neck and onto his chest. It trickles down in rivulets to his stomach, creating wet spots on his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to care.
You notice his grip is tighter than usual, yet you feel no pain, no discomfort. If he wanted to hurt you, he would. But you’re safe here—in his arms. Safer than you’ve ever been.
“Don’t pretend you don’t love having me in your bed,” you mumble against his neck, your minty breath tickling his skin.
His body shivers, and a soft sound escapes his lips. Your words remind him of the years of loneliness, of his body yearning for your touch. The sound is almost a whimper, and you feel his fingers twining in your wet hair.
The feeling is intoxicating. For years, he couldn’t touch a woman, didn’t even dream about having one so close to his skin, couldn’t feel someone’s body pressed tightly against him in a bed because they weren’t you—they dimmed in comparison. He missed it; he missed this connection, this skin-to-skin contact.
His hand lingers in your hair, the other one tracing your skin, exploring every inch of it, memorizing every imperfection, every bump beneath his palm.
“You haven’t been with anyone else, have you?” It’s not really a question—more of a sure statement—because, after all, you know Will like the back of your hand.
His head shakes, and both of his hands now run down your body. Will takes his sweet time exploring every inch of you—your hips, thighs, your stomach, and neck.
“I haven’t,” he whispers, almost embarrassed. As if his body belongs to someone else, and giving it to you now is a betrayal of that person.
Betrayal of you—the one he once knew—because he’s not entirely sure you’re still the same person. You were always so cheerful and full of life before—anything you touched, growing wings, flying out of the confines of its cage.
He yearns for this contact, craves a woman’s body—craves your body. He touches your skin, lightly running his fingertips over it, trying to bring back the memories from before. Will’s mind spins, trying to place the puzzle of you in the present.
He holds your face, trying to remember the way your eyes shined, the smile on your lips, the way your hair used to look. The feeling of your body, skin to skin, is almost painful. Your lips are so close, your heart beating so fast…
Winston jumps onto the bed, the weight and heat of his furry body on your calves makes you both pull away hesitantly.
“Sorry,” you mumble out the apology into the stillness of the air.
Will looks at you with a soft smile and a faint blush on his cheeks. “It’s fine.” He glances over at the dog. “What’s the matter, little fella? Can’t sleep?” He reaches over to pet the dog, then he turns his attention back to you.
The atmosphere changes completely, filled with the sounds of the night and Winston’s heavy breathing. Yet, although your physical proximity to Will has changed, you still feel connected to him in a way that only two people who are truly close can. The warmth of Winston’s body seems to melt the tension.
The dog snuggles up against you both, the three of you creating your own little world of peace. Will is the first to speak, “I’d rather be in bed with you only,” he sends you a smirk, “but I would still get the same amount of hair on my clothes.”
You feel your lips part in a grin; your breath catches in your throat, and it takes a moment before you’re able to answer his playful jab.
Will catches you in this moment of surprise as if he can smell your anticipation in the air. His hands wrap around your waist, dragging you closer until your bodies are pressed snugly once more.
When he smiles at you, it’s as if the world stops briefly. Your eyes lock, and for a second, there is nothing else but the two of you.
“It’s a sad thing your smile is so rare,” you whisper, your fingers tracing his stubbled jaw.
Will's heart pounds in his chest. He takes your hand in his, running his fingers along your skin. There's always been an undeniable spark between you, but this time, it feels different, more intense. Like if you let yourself go and let the spark ignite, the fire will burst out of your chest.
Will leans closer to you; your noses are almost touching. His brown eyes are so close you can see every detail in them despite the darkness of the room. You can feel the tension in the air, and you know what would break it...
“Will, I... I can’t—” You stumble over your words, gaze parting from his.
Your stutter is cut short by Will’s lips touching yours. A soft sound escapes him as if he’s been waiting for you to stop speaking so he can taste you. His tongue slips over your lips, exploring your mouth.
This is not the clumsy, almost animalistic lust he had for you in the past—it’s something different. Something tender, almost sweet.
Your hands fall limply onto the duvet, your heart beating faster, your breath catching in your throat as you sink deeper into the kiss. You don’t want this to end… So you pull him closer.
Seemingly annoyed by the nonstop movement, Winston jumps off the bed and retreats to his place by the lit-up fireplace. You almost giggle at that, but you’re far too busy with kissing Will’s lips raw.
Your hands find their way onto his neck next, your fingers running through his curls. With lips almost glued to his, you pull him back every time he tries to move.
The sound of your heavy breathing is enough to make his heart pound in his chest as if his very blood is racing. He’s holding you so tightly you fear you might break. Will breathes in the smell of you, almost intoxicated by it. Your scent enriches him—sends his emotions into a whirlwind.
After a moment, he manages to pull away, gasping for breath. He is still holding you, hands pressed against your back, as if not wanting to let go. Will tries to catch his breath—it feels like his entire life is contained in those few moments.
His eyes find yours, looking for some reassurance, as if he expects to wake up from a dream any moment now. He opens his mouth to say words but can’t find any. All he can do is look at you, so beautiful in the darkness. Will closes his eyes as if trying to cling to this moment.
“I’m glad I’m back. Despite the circumstances...” Your fingers play with his curls, your breath just as shaky as his.
“You’re back...” Will murmurs, looking at you relieved, touching your face as if to make sure you’re still here. He wants to speak, to tell you everything that is going through his mind, but when he opens his mouth again, no words come out. He tries to collect himself—tries to bring his heart to your level.
“It’s been a long time... We should probably talk. You know, just to catch up.”
“You like talking now?” Your grin is electrifying, it sends heat down the man’s body. But when he notices it doesn’t reach your eyes, his neediness crumbles.
A veil of insecurity falls over his face. “No… I don’t like talking. But I still do it if I have to, so can we just…” Will gestures to the two of you, the room—just a sign of exasperation and need to do this now. He swallows hard, trying to find his voice. “It’s just... it’s been a long time. And I... you know... there is just a lot that happened.”
“Will,” the way you say his name halts him, “it’s okay if you want to talk.”
He blinks slowly, suddenly confused—why did he even try to lie about it? Hannibal gave him his voice and showed him the power of his words—the good one and the evil one.
Will lets out a deep breath and then closes his eyes. It’s always been hard for him to tell people how he feels. Especially when he wants to say more than any amount of words can describe—and there is a lot to describe. There is so much he has to tell you, and yet when he tries to form the words—to get them out—his mind goes blank.
He opens his eyes and looks at you for help, but you look just as confused as before. “I don’t even know where to begin,” he says softly. “So much has changed.”
“You haven’t. Not as much as you think you did.”
He sees the impossibly black creature in his peripheral vision. It stands behind you, completely still, and its antlers seem much more massive than ever before when he catches their shadow falling onto you. He wants it to be gone so badly, but deep inside, he knows it’ll never vanish if Hannibal is still alive, and maybe even after his death, he’ll never get his peace back.
“Your opinion will change quicker than you realize.”
The creature’s still there, Will looks it straight into its void of color eyes. It’s just in his mind, yet the shiver that runs down your spine tells him you might feel its presence, too. He hates that he can’t tell if it’s his imagination or not or if you can indeed see it, too. A feeling of dread seizes him, a cold sensation that runs up his arms and into his bones.
“Hannibal...” he whispers, but when he looks around the room, he sees no sign of the creature. The sense of dread lingers, nevertheless.
“The Chesapeake Ripper?” you question, and he tells you all about it. All about Hannibal’s mind games—what he did to him and then what he undid.
Will tells you about the therapy sessions, his transformation, and the darkness that took hold of him. He talks about his memories of your sister, about his guilt, and then he moves on to you—your absence and the reason why you left. The void he felt for all those dark years without you—until he was given the chance to have you back, a light guiding him back into reality. And you listen carefully to all of it; you let him speak his heart out until he no longer feels the need to speak.
When he is done telling you everything, Will falls silent. It feels like he laid bare his soul, exposing his most intimate thoughts, yet you still lie in front of him, unchanged. He looks at you, almost expecting you to leave. After all, how much can a person handle? But your gaze is still strong; you still care about him at least a little…
It’s almost as if you’re reading his mind. “I still care about you, Will. My feelings never changed and they never will. I’ll do anything I can to help you get him.”
His eyes soften at your words, and he closes the distance between you two. Slowly he kisses your lips, tasting your breath, feeling his mouth move against yours. The sensation is so intense that it almost sends sparks through Will’s body.
“I’ve missed this,” he whispers into your ear before he turns your head and kisses you again. His hands rest on your back, pulling you in even closer as his tongue dances against yours. “And I’ve missed you. So goddamn much...”
Will pulls away, breathless, as if his entire body is aflame. He looks at you, studying your face so intently it’s almost as if he wants to burn your image into his brain. “So much,” he repeats softly.
He rests his head against yours, breathing in the sound of your heartbeat, listening to the rise and fall of your chest. “You’re here. You’re really here.” He exhales a sigh of relief as if your presence is the sweetest gift he could have ever wished for.
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softieekayy · 6 months
Text
Intertwined
Hannibal Lecter x reader
Word count: 1.8k
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Hannibal Lecter was a stoic man with stoic impressions. He did his job, he left and he came home. Not many people knew much about him and the one who did, Will Graham, was a mystery of his own.
Having said that, there was one person who knew his entire soul, for their souls were entangled with each other. Hannibal’s wife. She knew him and his antics like the back of her hand. It was to be expected, especially since they’ve known eachother since Hannibal was a young man in medical school and her a young teenage girl with a crush on him. He never entertained it through, no, he always taught her things that she found useful later in life. It was fate who decided that they would spend the rest of their lives together.
Hannibal would do anything for his wife, she was his sun, moon and entire universe. He worshiped the floor she walked on. Not to mention that the young Mrs. Lecter was a beautiful woman with shiny hair and satin like skin. She was ethereal and people often thought she was an angel posing as one of their kind simply because of her beauty. Her beauty didn’t end physically, not at all. The young woman was a saint. She wouldn't hurt a fly, in fact, she would nourish it and then set it free.
“Why is he so hard to cut up!” (Y/n) whined to her husband, stomping down her expensively clad feet in a tantrum, blood seeping into her satin, champagne coloured shirt, staining the material. In one hand she held a butcher's knife with blood coating it, the body beneath her indicating the frustration she very obviously felt.
“Well, darling” Hannibal grunted, “cutting people with knives like this isn’t easy.”
“Yeah I see that now, my love.” She muttered back, reverting to her former position on her knees and hacking away at Mr. Zaine Lammer’s arm. A disgusting man he was, objectifying Hannibal’s wife to him. The dinner the couple held was for charity. Just because they killed people didn’t mean they were monsters. (Y/n) still loved and cared about children and would never harm them, they can be tuned and molded into anything you’d like. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for adults.
Hannibal looked over to his, completely entranced by the pure and utter annoyance on her face. She knew Hannibal killed, it wasn’t a secret to her. She’s helped with the crimes. However, (Y/n) preferred the killing and setting up the scene part, she did not like the hacking away at the body. No, she left that to her dear husband to do. Not that Hannibal minded. He’d prefer for her to not get touched by the blood of filth.
“Ugh. I give up. I can’t do this anymore.” The young woman stated, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Hannibal laughed at his wife’s reaction, making her glare at him.
“Don’t laugh at me Hans!” She told him, a small smile threatening to break out on her face. Hannibal looked at her, not saying anything but rather just observing. His wife was the most beautiful lady to have ever walked the earth. An angel that was put amongst sinners. He put down his knife and walked over to her, putting one arm around her waist and tugging her closer to his body, her hands resting on his chest.
“Hi.” She whispered softly with an equally soft smile gracing her face.
“Hello.” Hannibal whispered back, leaning down to steal a quick kiss from his wife.
He remembers meeting her like yesterday. She was a young little thing, younger than him, about 8-9 years or so. Yet when Hannibal saw her, she was the most beautiful person he’d ever set eyes on. The young woman had just been coming into the book store, soaked from the rain outside, hair sticking to her face and yet she still had a smile painted on her dark red lips. Hannibal watched her as she greeted the older man who ran the shop warmly before shedding her coat to let it hang. She turned around and caught Hannibal staring yet she gave him a smile too. Her quick movements reminded Hannibal of a cat, yet when he looked into her eyes for a brief moment, he saw his own reflection.
“I’ve never seen you around here.” She tells him, running her fingers across the spines of books before pulling one out. It was an old book with a forest green cover.
“I don’t live here, I’m just here to visit my aunt.” Hannibal didn’t tell her that Lady Murasaki was long dead and that he was just here to visit her grave. His aunt was a crucial part of his life, she shaped him into the man he is today.
The young woman nodded in acknowledgment, her hair moving along with it.
“Well it’s nice to meet you..” She trailed off, waiting for Hannibal to introduce himself.
“Hannibal lecter.” The older man introduced himself, shaking her hand gently. It was as soft as she looked. In return (Y/n) introduced herself. The two grabbed their books and spoke about everything and anything. Hannibal learned that she went to medical school here and frequented this bookstore often, hence her close relationship with the owner. Hannibal told her of Lady Murasaki and how he’s in charge of keeping her home. Before they knew it, time had passed and it was the dead of night, Hannibal walked her home and from there it took them to now. A married couple.
“We should really clean up.” (Y/n) grimaced, pulling away from Hannibal’s embrace to look at the mess on the floor. Hannibal agreed with her, the blood won’t come out easily if it’s been too long.
Hannibal pulled away from the embrace and went back to chopping up the man while his wife began to mix the solutions for cleaning.
Within another hour or so they were done. (Y/n) stood at the entrance of the basement with her hands over her hips, heaving lightly from all the scrubbing she did. Her once neatly done hair was now falling out of its place messily. Hannibal disposed of the meat in the freezer before walking back to his wife and kissing her on the side of her head, gently leading her upstairs with his hand on the small of her back.
“With all that leftover meat, we ought to have another dinner party. There’s only so much we alone can eat.” (Y/n) grumbled to Hannibal as they both reached the first floor of their home. She walked into the kitchen and took out two wine glasses before pouring her and Hannibal some.
“I agree.” Hannibal nodded. “We should invite Will, Jack Crawford and Alana Bloom for dinner these days.” He finished, taking a sip of his wine, watching his wife’s stare on him harden.
“You know I don’t like her yet you keep inviting her. Don’t be surprised if she ends up as our dinner one day.” (Y/n) warns him, anger seeping through her voice. The young brunette clearly had a crush on Hannibal, everyone around her could tell. Hannibal used that crush to manipulate her. His wife on the other hand, wasn't too fond of another woman making heart eyes at someone who belonged to her.
“You worry for no reason, even in death my heart will belong to you. Alana Bloom can’t match your intelligence or grace.” Hannibal comforted his wife, running his hand up and down her arm and she tucked herself closer into him. The younger woman hummed in response, taking Hannibal’s hand in her own and playing around with his fingers.
“I still don’t like her. That smug little face she makes towards me whenever you talk to her. All I can think about at that moment is how nice my hair pin would look coated in her blood.” (Y/n)‘s hand clutched tightly around Hannibal’s as she thought about Alana bloom. The brunette woman never failed to enrage Hannibal’s wife.
“She’s not worth you pretty little thoughts.” The older man told his wife, dragging his nose from the back of her neck to the side of her head, planting a living kiss. (Y/n) smiled slyly, turning her body to face him fully.
“You think me wanting to feel Alana’s blood on my hands is pretty?” She asked him, still smiling and toying with his hair. Hannibal latched his arm around her waist and pulled her atop him.
“I think everything you do is pretty.” He tells her and she hums. The two sit in silence for a while, sipping on their wine. No need for mindless chatter, being by each other's side was all that they needed. Hannibal knew that his wife would never betray him under any circumstances and she knew that Hannibal would never do anything to harm her. However they both knew that to drag attention away from one another, they may need to harm each other. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, it ripped Hannibal’s heart apart to even think about hurting his pretty little wife. His pretty wife with doe eyes. His pretty wife with a sinister smile. The two were a match in every sense possible, both hunters who enjoyed the art of killing. They were skilled and under Hannibal’s expertise and care, his young wife went from an amateur to someone just as talented as Hannibal.
“It's getting late, moonshine.” Hannibal uttered into her hair, nosing her hairline. She was wrapped around him, like a cat. Hannibal thought that if reincarnation was real then his wife must’ve been a cat in her past life.
“Yes, honey, I know. However there are no plans set in place for tomorrow.” She grinned, turning around and crawling onto him fully now. Hannibal held his wife by the waist, grinning.
“Are you suggesting we stay up late tonight Mrs. Lecter?” He asked her, caressing her hair. The two smiled like a lovesick teen age couple. So in love that it made others sick. Jack Crawford was one of them, he’d known the famous Mrs. Lecter since he’d met Hannibal.
“Yes I am. In fact, I’m suggesting that we go out for some ice cream.” She tells him, running a finger down the buttons of his shirt. Hannibal gasps in faux shock.
“Scandalous. You’re so very scandalous.” He tells her, shaking his head in disappointment. They both know it’s just an act anyway, Hannibal would bend over back wards for her. (Y/n) giggled before getting up and grabbing her coat. She waited for Hannibal to join her giddily, like a child who had far too much sugar.
“Shall we go?” Hannibal asked her, offering his arm for her to hold. (Y/n)’s hand softly tucked itself into the crook of Hannibal's arm as they headed out. Into the dark of the night, like wolves hunting for prey.
Tagging my lovelies: @jake-g-lockley @shawty-writes-a-little <3
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angelf1re · 2 months
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Hannigram with a silent s/o
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Hannibal and Will first met you at a crime scene after you scared them. You were there to photograph evidence, and you ended up accidentally sneaking up on them.
Will almost had a heart attack when you tapped on his shoulder.
Hannibal kept his eye on you as you worked, noticing how silent you were even when talking.
Will was impressed, usually no one can sneak up on him easily, so when you did he was surprised.
Eventually Will worked up the courage to talk to you. With Hannibal by his side of course.
You were extremely polite, offering to show them some pictures you took when they asked about your job.
Hannibal offered dinner at his place, and you accepted.
Hannibal made sure not to use a lot of human meat when preparing your dish, but used some in his and Wills.
You showed up in one of your best outfits, an expensive bottle of wine in your hands.
Hannibal let you in while Will set the table.
You walked behind Hannibal, silent as ever as you looked around slightly.
Safe to say, Will was surprised when you walked into the dining room.
Will set the table, smiling at you slightly when he set your plate down in front of you.
You were quiet throughout dinner, only speaking when spoken too and keeping your answers short and simple, but informative.
Eventually the dinner came to an end and you had to go home.
After that, you kept coming over for dinner, each and every time Hannibal invited you, you accepted.
After the 10th or 11th dinner Will and Hannibal asked you to be theirs, and you accepted shyly.
about a month after dating you moved in by Will’s request.
They noticed that you loved exploring the house, and so they never stopped you when you did, but you always managed to sneak up on them.
Eventually, Will ordered little bells to sew onto your clothes to help keep track of you.
You still manage to sneak up on them sometimes when you find a piece of clothing that doesn’t have a bell on it.
They love you, but hate how silent you can be.
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dilfstrap · 2 months
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the patient fisherman
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trans ! will graham / top male reader
afab will graham, riding, choking, hair-pulling, spanking, overstimulation
his hand found your throat easily, wantingly. it was will graham's way, always, to keep his violence at the ready. as much as he was your rude southern gentleman when you were sipping cheap whiskey on the porch, he had teeth that craved to tear at flesh and gnaw bone; especially now, sat on your thighs with his shirt open and falling off of his otherwise bare body, rising and falling slowly enough to match his breathing. he was a fisherman, willing to wait for a snap, even with gasping moans being drawn from him near unwittingly with each stab of your dick inside him.
nails, trimmed short, raked up his back and fisted into the hair at the back of his neck. curls tangled across your fingers. a ragged grin slashed its way across will's face and he grunted, moving faster and clenching around your cock. he fell forward, movements devolving into frantic humping in an attempt to reach his climax. his own nails dug into the sides of your throat and seemed to try to draw blood.
you kept one dextrous hand playing with his clit, thumbing over it in easy, fluid, motions even as pain spiked through your system. your other hand fell hard from his hair to hit hard against his ass cheeks, bare and bouncing as he rode you, suddenly desperate. will cried out and ground down further against your other palm at the slap, squeezing deliciously around your cock; the tight, deep heat fluttering before pressing hard. his legs, coarse with hair, pressed hard into your outer thighs and he grovelled in your ear, 'I'm going to cum, keep going, fuck —'
his whole body tensed up and he whined, loud and clear even over the suddenly unsteady rhythm of the rise and fall of his chest. his hole clamped around you and his teeth dug into your shoulder to muffle his cries as he came with a rush of slick.
the body weight on top of yours went slack and will turned into a mess of tears as you continued to use him, lifting his hips to keep him moving even after he stopped. the patient fisherman was selfish after he caught his fill, but you wanted your take as well. his hand around your throat tightened as you pushed his peak further and further past its edge. it was the lightheadedness paired with the clamping of his walls around you that finally pushed you over your own edge and will pawed at you as you came inside him, pumping him full and holding him down against you.
he panted, that same knife slash smile back again, shameless with his head tilted back, still panting softly, 'I'm gonna start to think you like it if you keep letting me choke you like that.'
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p1llow-w1llow · 4 months
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Murder Dads
Hannigram x Child!reader
(Platonic Ofc)
Summary: Y/n had a good home life, that was until they found out it was all a lie. Fortunately, they had two people who treated them well and gave them the life they wanted.
(Nah bc I acc love the idea of this sm and I am PRAYING you all love it too-)
TW! Implied/Mention of kidnapping, mention of drugging, death, description of death/dead bodies, passing out, mention of/implied murder-suicide and mention of infertility.
~~~~
A loud crash from down the hall caused you to jolt upright in your bed. The cool air seeped through the thin cloth of your shirt as you stepped out from under the covers and locked the door across from your bed.
You jumped out your skin as footsteps raced up and down the hall, the slim line of light under your door slipped into your room, the faint shadow of two sets of shoes lingered outside. Heart racing quickly, you rushed to your wardrobe and hid between the tops and trousers piled in each corner.
A loud crash echoed throughout the room, the yellow candle light from the hallway chandelier leaked into the room, letting the dressers and cast aside shoes and toys bask in the beautiful glow.
“Search the room.” A tall man in a black jacket barked at a group of soldiers, giving them orders as they raced to check every spot in the room. Under the bed, behind the curtains, beneath dressers. Anywhere and everywhere.
But fear jolted through your body as one walked over and reached for the handle on the wardrobe. The bright white light of their torch as it flashed in your eyes made you flinch.
“Found the kid.” The soldier yelled over to the man, making the man in charge race over as they pulled you out.
You kicked and squirmed to get out of the soldiers grasp but couldn’t. The man in charge looked down at you, urging you to be calm.
“My name is Agent Crawford of the FBI. You have nothing to worry about, you’re safe now.” He smiled softly, not expecting the harsh kick to the stomach you gave him.
A single gunshot echoed down the hall as well as two thuds.
“Mama?” You called out.
Enough squirming finally became useful as the soldier loosened his grip to much and you ran off. Panting like a dog, you rushed down the hall until you got to the master bedroom. You came to a halt, seeing blood cover the hard wood floor and the body of your Mama and Papa sprawled out. A knife lay in your Papa’s hand, his grip slowly loosening and his eyes briefly glancing at you before softly gazing off into the distance.
The colour drained from your face as realisation set in.
As you tried to run over, a hand caught the back of your shirt. Tears spilled out your eyes and rolled down your cheeks as you fought against whoever was holding you back. You yelped quickly as they pulled you into their embrace holding you tightly against their chest. The slow rise and fall of their breathing calmed you slightly as they held you in place, not letting go no matter how hard you struggled.
Pain stung your soul as you were dragged away from the scene, watching everyone else allowed in. Everyone was able to see them except you. Their child.
“I’m going to set you down now, can you promise to not run?” The voice hummed through your body as they kept their hold on you. Their voice was soft but rough, round yet pointy, like the sharp end of a dull pencil. An accent as well. Not one you had heard before- or ever. It was pretty though.
A small nod was all they needed to trust you.
They gently set you down with a grunt and watched as you turned to face them. He was a well-dressed man, in his mid 50’s with greying hair and nice brown eyes. You gazed up at him and saw him reach for your face. Worry set in and you reacted the only way you knew how.
Fear and acceptance.
You clamped your eyes shut and braced for him to strike you. Instead he tussled your hair, his touched moving down to hold your shoulder.
“Theres no need to worry.” He started, bending slightly to be at your level. “You’re safe with me.”
You felt tears run down your face as you opened your eyes. Staring at him, a look of happiness settled as well as a soft smile as you hugged him. You clung to his midsection, feeling his arms embrace you, one hand tangling in your hair and the other rubbing your shoulder.
Someone gently cleared their throat from behind you, causing you to begrudgingly let go and turn. Another tall man, thinner framed than the one behind you, with casual clothes on, messy brown hair and thin rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose.
“Dr. Lecter, can I speak to you over here?” He asked.
A soft hum left Dr Lecter’s lips as he stepped around you and walked away with the other man.
Curiosity got the better of you as you spotted most police and FBI agents trying to get press away from the windows, giving you the opportunity to see your mama and papa.
Quickly and quietly, you waltzed into their bedroom, under the crime scene tape. You saw the blood that rolled from your mama’s lifeless body. Gallons seemed to have drained from the wound in her chest. Her eyes were cold, desolat of any feeling or emotion. She was half covered in a black bag, yellow pieces of paper with numbers in bold surrounded the cornered off area.
The floorboards screeched under your weight as you knelt next to her, brushed the bloodied hair off of her face. A sob left your lips as you looked at her. She always said she’d never leave you, not after the deal of issues she and papa had went through to get you. She made sure you knew she wouldn’t leave your side.
She hadn’t lied fully. You were beside her. She just didn’t know.
You hadn’t realised the river of tears sinking into your shirt and the amount of sobs that echoed in the room.
Heavy boots raced to your spot, grabbing you under your shoulders and dragging you out of the taped off area. Your body began trembling. The adults surrounding you watched and began trying to help you as you shook like a leaf in the wind. All their words blurred as you fell into someone’s arms.
~~~~~~~~
Your eyes opened slowly, analysing your surroundings. The soft beeping of a heart monitor, machines huddled around the twin bed, dull walls empty of anything other than scattered motivational posters.
A hospital room.
“Good. You’re awake.”
A gasp left your jaw agape as your gaze shot over to the speaker.
“My Name is Will Graham, this is Dr. Hannibal Lecter. We both work with the FBI and wanted to speak with you about your abductors.”
“Abductors.?”
Dr. Lecter folded his jacket and placed it on a chair beside him. He stepped forward and placed a hand on the guard on the edge of the bed. “The people in this drawing.”
He placed a sheet of brightly coloured paper on your lap. A crudely scribbled sketch of a family of three stretched across a plain sheet of paper with your name on the bottom left corner. The family was your mama, your papa and you.
“The perfect, happy family.” Your papa always said.
You listened closely as they began to explain who your ‘parents’ were.
Drug smugglers. Human traffickers.
Mafia boss father and mother who dabbled in modelling. They had wanted kids with each other since they met, but found out your mama was infertile.
That’s where you came into the equation. They saw you at the park with your family and just knew the three of you would be perfect together.
So, of course, they stalked you and your family. They found out your school, when your parents went to work, when you’d be alone with a nanny. Apparently, one day your old nanny went ‘missing’ so your parents hired a new one.
Dr. Lecter suspected that you were either unconscious when your parents were killed or suppressed the memory. You couldn’t remember it if you tried your hardest.
Your face contorted as you heard your mama and papa had drugged you with each meal to keep your their little angel.
Oblivious and innocent was what they wanted.
It was what they needed.
Your heart sunk as Mr Graham spoke about how your father had lost all their money in casinos and splurging on stuff he wouldn’t need.
To save himself and his wife from their investors hunting them down and spending hours torturing them before killing them, he decided to commit to a murder-suicide plan.
Turns out that Mr Graham had been the one to shoot your papa right as he had plunged the knife deep into your mama’s chest.
Your breath hitched as you thought about how horrible that must have been. Life of both yourself and your wife’s fading in front of you as an agent drags your child away. No chance to say goodbye. No nothing.
You sobbed into your palms as you held yourself still, threatening to tremble once again.
Dr Lecter placed a palm on your back, rubbing gentle circles into your skin and assuring you that ‘Everything would be okay in the end.’
For weeks you waited for that good end.
You were cooped up in that small hospital room for what felt like years until you were finally permitted to leave under supervision.
That supervision was, of course, Dr Lecter and Mr Graham.
When you were out they would take you to cafes and restaurants you liked, as well as clothes shopping and toy shops. They gave you everything you wanted.
Dr Lecter brought you to his house at some point too. He cooked for you and let you hang around his kitchen and watch. After some time Mr Graham came to the door, surprised to see you answer.
Will threw you over his shoulder, delivering you to Dr Lecter. He gently placed you down next to him before closing the oven door.
“Could you two set up the dining table for me? I forgot to do it earlier.” He said softly, going back to chopping up vegetables.
You and Will grabbed some cutlery and began placing things down where you were kinda sure they went. Needless to say, Dr Lecter had to rearrange them all.
After a lesson on how to set a table properly, you were allowed to start eating.
Hannibal smiled as he saw you happily chewing away. He hadn’t seen you smile properly before and he thought it was adorable, especially due to the fact that it was at his cooking. Such a small creature that had been through so much yet still had a smile on its face.
Will had taken notice as he watched you guzzle down your food. His gaze focussed on you before glancing at Hannibal, as if communicating with him. Hannibal looked back and smirked softly.
You looked at them as you finished your food, seeing that had been done for a while. A gentle apology left your mouth before Hannibal swiped yours and Will’s plates away.
Will walked towards you and took your hand in his, saying he had an amazing surprise for you. He guided you upstairs and to a door with a white sign on the handle,
‘Y/n’s Room’
You looked up at him, eyes shining with wonder and he opened the door.
The door rolled open with a loud creak and stopped just before hitting the wall. Will flicked on the light and presented a room- your new room. You quickly stepped inside and began to explore but stopped at a burgundy desk pressed up against the wall below a window.
On the desk was a paper with lots and lots of writing you would never read. You heard Hannibal’s footsteps come upstairs and stop at the doorway, watching with Will as you read the title of the sheet.
‘Adoption Papers for Y/N L/N’
~~~~~~~~
Finished Sunday 14th of January 2024 3:01 AM.
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venusbyline · 5 days
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my type: pretty boys who are professors, FBI special agents, ex-con, probably autistic and have real puppy eyes
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coryosbaby · 2 months
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Time to Pretend .. Will Graham x student! Reader
Content warning . 18+ NSFW
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His sweet little moans sound so delicious in her ear that it almost seems right to be touching him like this.
Oh, and how sweet he looks. Her forensics professor leans against his desk, big arms gripping the edge of it as his pants rest at his ankles. His cock is red and achy in her hand as she rubs the tip of him with her palm.
He stays still for the most part, but boy does he make faces. His mouth dropped open, eyes scrunched closed as she whispers foul mouthed things in his ear. He whines when she kisses him firmly on the mouth, feverently pressing his lips against hers like a man starved. She pulls away from him with a small chuckle.
“Concentrate, professor.“
“Please,” he murmurs, breathless. Her thumb rubs over his cockhead and he fucks into her hand with shallow thrusts. “Please, baby— I can’t—“
“You can,” she coos. His glasses fall crooked on his nose, and she kisses him on the cheek before setting them straight. “Come on, professor Graham, don’t you want to be a good boy for me?”
The sound he makes is borderline pornographic. He nods, because yes, he wants to be a good boy for her, he wants it more than his next breath. He bites his lower lip to muffle his sounds— it’s a lunch break, and anyone could walk in.
“Look at you, honey,” she sighs out, hypnotized by the pre cum spilling over her fist. “You’re so wet. Practically dripping down my hand.”
“It’s.. it’s because you’re making me feel so good,” he breathes out. His hand reaches out to wrap around the wrist stroking him, and he doesn’t know if he wants her to stop or keep going because his brain has turned to complete mush. He assumes the latter, because he can feel his orgasm rapidly approaching when she twists her wrist a certain way. “You’re making me feel so good. Fuck— “He tilts his head back, eyes rolling. “ I’m— I’m close. I’m gonna—“
Her hand stops, pulls away from him so suddenly that he lets out a choked sob. Not again.
“No!” He whines, and reaches out to grab her fingers and put them back where they belong. She slaps his hand away.
“Did I say you could do that?” she asks, scolding. “Put your hands on the desk. Don’t fucking touch me, ever.”
He wants to scream. But his obedience doesn’t waiver now, and he digs his fingernails into the wood of the table. She smiles at this, her hands trailing up to his hips and squeezing them.
“You’re so pretty,” she praises, and tilts her head. “It’s too bad you’re such a brat.”
“I’m not.” he replies under his breath, almost annoyed. But not really— he could never be annoyed with her.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought,” she says, before wrapping her hand around him again. He sighs in relief, his cock so red that it’s almost purple. How long has it been since they begun this? Thirty, maybe forty minutes? He should be concerned about getting caught, but right now he’s too far gone to care.
There she goes again. Bringing Will to the edge, denying him. Over, and over, and over. Until some semblance of mercy is cast upon the poor man when he sees her pull down the front of her skirt. She tugs the waistband of her underwear open so he can see the top of her mound, and she directs the tip of his cock right above it. She jacks him feverently, telling him to squirt all over her aching pussy.
Will is excited, almost relieved of all of his fucking issues when she says this. It’s all going great— until the sound of a doorknob jingling reverberates through the room.
Panic surges through Will. He had locked the door (thank god), but now the person on the other side begins to knock.
He thought she would panic. She doesn’t.
“Better cum now, professor,” she teases, batting her eyelashes, and he bites into his wrist. “Cmon, baby, I’m finally letting you cum. Is a little audience really giving you cold feet?”
“(Y/N), I swear to God—“
“Will?”
He hears a voice from outside, one that seems to be looking for him.
Jack Crawford. He’s getting edged by one of his students, and the person to come knocking on his classroom door is Jack fucking Crawford. His forehead bumps against hers and his mouth falls open.
He can’t help what happens next. Maybe it’s all the pent up sensations, or the way her pussy looks so delectable and she’s begging for him to cum all over it— maybe it’s the fact that he might get caught. But the man’s mouth drops open, drool seeping out of the corner of it, and he finally, finally reaches his peak.
He practically drenches the girl’s panties, glazes the inside with sticky white and fights the urge to yell how thankful he is. She strokes him through his orgasm, a grin on her face at the sight of his spend coating her. The knocking sounds louder, but fuck it feels so good that Will could care less.
She pulls her hand away when he comes down. She smiles, her lips grazing the shell of his ear.
“Good boy,” she whispers, and he shudders.
“Will?” Jack’s voice sounds again, concerned almost. “Are you in there?”
The girl shakes her head— a signal. There’s a smile on her face as she sees Will’s distraught face. He stays silent.
It isn’t long before Jack leaves, going off elsewhere to find him. He hears retreating footsteps, and breathes a sigh of relief. Looking at her, his jaw clenches tight.
“Why did you do that?”
She shrugs. “Why not?”
He wants to be angry, but all he’s thinking about is the load that’s drying in her underwear. She kisses his cheek before she skips to the door, vacant on the other side.
“See you tomorrow, professor.”
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:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy
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Note
30k follower celebration for Hannibal Lecter please prompt 3 “I never thought I would see you again.”
.⋆。Won’t Let Go Again。⋆.
Hannibal Lecter x plus size reader
implied Hannigram x plus size reader
Moving to Baltimore was supposed to be a fresh start, to escape the ghosts of your past but a budding new friendship with an FBI profiler leads you back to the man who left you behind
Warnings: european!reader, DARK, usual Hannibal warnings (implied cannibalism, kidnapping, drugging, manipulation), childhood lovers, needles
WC: 1.2k
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
Halloween Celebration
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America confused you, everything was big and moved so quickly, you considered it a miracle that you didn’t constantly get lost. But it was such a beautiful place, especially Baltimore. The mixture of old and new architecture that lined the bay was so reminiscent of your old home but also gave you a whole new world to explore.
With a paper map in your hands, you wandered down a mostly empty street, your small heels clacking softly against the pavement. You were determined in your search for a new coffee shop to try out on your day off but so far, you have been unsuccessful. Head down and concentrated, you didn’t notice an equally distracted man walking straight in your direction.
You bowled into each other and you both fell down. You winced and the man yelped as you crashed onto the cold sidewalk. “Oh god! I am so sorry, I should’ve seen where I was going.” You apologised quickly, ignoring the way the skin of your knees burned with pain.
The man shook his head at you, causing his brown curls to tumble over his forehead. “No it’s my fault, sometimes I just wander and forget my surroundings.” He pulled himself to his feet and offered you a hand, although he would not meet your eyes.
“I suppose we are both at fault then.” You chuckled and allowed him to help you to your feet. Your long skirt fell back over your legs, concealing the small cuts on your knees. You took note of the way he made sure that you were all right before he appraised his own body for any injuries. 
He suddenly ducked down and grabbed something from a puddle on the side of the street, and when he popped back up with your now destroyed and waterlogged map, he smiled sheepishly at you. “How about I get us some coffee as a sorry for ruining your map?”
He finally met your gaze with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes you had ever seen. Then his stomach growled loudly and he looked away, pink dusting over his high cheekbones. “Then let me buy some sandwiches for us both.” You offered.
——————
Your friendship with Will Graham was like how you viewed the states, both nostalgic and brand new, filled with mystery and comfort. You learned quickly that he was not a very reliable friend given that he frequently disappeared into cases and his own mind but he was also an incredible friend when he was around.
He showed you all of Baltimore and taught you some tricks to navigating any city so you wouldn’t get lost. And now, he was inviting you to dinner- at his therapist’s house. 
“I would hardly call this romantic, Will.” His eyes flicked to you as he reached to ring the doorbell of the townhouse in front of you.
“I never said this was going to be romantic.” He snipped but he still squeezed your hand tightly.
You rolled your eyes playfully. “You said that you were taking me to dinner somewhere nice, I assumed it was a date.”
“You’re teasing me, I don’t like when you tease me.” He muttered but you could clearly see the way the corner of his lips turned upwards in a soft smile. 
Before you could retort that he did in fact love your teasing, the door opened and the breath was sucked from your lungs. “Hannibal.”
Amber eyes widened and the careful composure he possessed, fell away. “Mylimasis.” (Beloved) Your hand went limp in Will’s hold and suddenly your vision was blurry with tears.
“I-I have to go.” But your companion held tight, his own blue eyes staring at you with an apt fascination. You could see the way his brain was ticking over, analysing each and every part of you but you refused to give anything away. “Let me leave.” 
You tried to pull from his hold and instead you were pushed into another one. Hannibal was much stronger than you remembered and he easily pulled you into his home. Will followed close behind, shutting the door with a firm slam. You would later question why he so blindly obeyed Hannibal but in the moment, you were only focused on the way your heart was breaking all over again. 
His chest was firm beneath your touch as he tugged you fully into his arms. He was older, there was no doubt about that, but the longer you looked into those golden eyes you used to know so well, the more you saw of that boy who had stolen your very soul. “My mylimasis, I never thought I would see you again.” 
Your anger flared once more, setting your veins alight with a fire you thought you had extinguished long ago. “That tends to happen when you abandon someone.” He did not even flinch at your fight.
A large, warm hand cupped your full cheek as he gazed at you just the same as he had so many years ago- you wanted to punch that look off of his face. “Even more beautiful than I remember.”
Your eyes burned with unshed tears, memories unearthing from the deep graves in your mind you had buried them in.
The first time you saw him, you didn’t think he was real. He was so beautiful he had to have been some sort of fae. His regal features practically glowed in the spring sunlight as he smiled at you. You could never clearly remember what he said to you that day in the flower fields by your small home but you did remember the feeling of his words- love, comfort, warmth.
But the day he left, his touch only brought you pain. You could still feel the way that the gravel sliced into your palms as you fell at his feet, begging him not to leave. He promised you the world yet he took the world from you. His eyes were dark, his lips turned down in a vicious sneer.
No matter how hard you tried, you could not forget the expression of pure hatred and disgust he held on that day. 
“You know her?” Will finally spoke from behind you. Hannibal finally looked away from you and to his patient who still stood awkwardly right in front of the door. 
“She is my first love.” He answered simply as you scoffed under your breath. “It seems fate brought my two loves to each other and then to me.” 
Your eyes went wide. “Let me go!” You thrashed violently but his grip never faltered. “You’re fucking crazy!” Hannibal never even acknowledged your struggle, instead nodding over your head towards his lover.
So caught up in your struggle, you didn’t hear the opening and subsequent shutting of a drawer before the heat of Will’s body drew closer and his breath tickled the back of your neck. “Don’t fight it, it will only make this worse.” His voice sounded cold and so unlike the man who would call you in the middle of the night to talk about a new stray dog he rescued.
You tried to turn your head but Hannibal firmly gripped your jaw, keeping you still. There was a pinch in your neck then warmth suddenly flooded through you. “Fuck you.” Even as your words slurred, the malice in your tone didn’t escape either man.
“Just close your eyes mylimasis, we will never let you go ever again.” The darkness swallowed you whole.
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Hannibal
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Hannibal Lecter
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ihavemanyhusbands · 3 months
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I came to correct an injustice, a will x reader where they are married and madly in love, imagine Hannibal discovering that Will has a wife and she is adorable
Aaownejejwkwiw THANK YOU FOR CORRECTING THIS INJUSTICE!!
——-
You brought in the smell of the forest — and a rambunctious pack of dogs — as you walked through the front door. You set down your basket of foraged goods and shook out pine needles from your hair.
“I’m back!” You announced, sounding winded both from the trek and an overall exhilaration. “Honey, do you know if….?”
You stopped in your tracks as you saw your husband had a visitor, which explained the unfamiliar car you’d seen in the driveway.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know we had a guest,” you said, taking off your coat. “If I’d known, I’d definitely look more presentable right now.”
Hannibal internally disagreed. He liked this wild beauty that had been thus far hidden from him, emerging from the woods like the goddess Artemis after a hunt.
He cast a glance at Will, eyebrows raised in questioning, but Will’s expression didn’t change.
“Hannibal, this is my wife,” Will said as you approached, bending down and kissing his temple. “This is Doctor Hannibal Lecter. I’ve mentioned him before.”
“Ah, the famous doctor Lecter,” you smiled, extending your hand towards him. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure’s all mine,” Hannibal said, shaking your hand and returning the smile.
“Has he offered you anything? Some tea? Water?”
“No, actually, but I would love some tea please.”
“Coming right up.”
You gave Will a chastising look as you headed to the kitchen, taking your basket with you. Most of the dogs followed suit, always stuck like velcro at your side. Will couldn’t help but smile at this, only half aware Hannibal was observing him.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were married?” He asked, now seeing Will had a wedding band on his finger.
Will pointedly moved his hand out of view. “I guess it just never came up.”
“Until now,” Hannibal added, curious as to what had made him change his mind.
You came back into the room then, perching on one of the armrests of Will’s seat.
“Kettle’s on the stove, it’ll be a few minutes,”you said. “This feels like a momentous occasion, doctor Lecter. I’m sorry we are meeting almost on accident.”
“Please, call me Hannibal. No need for the formalities,” he assured, further taking you in. “I’m very much looking forward to getting to know you.”
Will huffed in amusement at that. “I’m sure you are.”
———
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