#Hannibal lecter fanfic
Note
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
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.”
:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz
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Can you do a request for me with Hannibal x Fem Reader where she starts seeing him as a patient and you reveal to him that you have kinda gray morals when it comes to murder and stuff like that and over the course of about 6 months or so you two start falling for each other but he tries to keep it professional until he can’t anymore and fires you as a patient which upsets you until he tells you why he did it (which was so he could date you)
Unexpected Romance
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Fem!Reader
TW: slight meltdown, hints of murderous thoughts, dependence, slight angst, arguing, fighting, happy ending
You sighed, walking out of the building that once held your third psychiatrist of the month, clutching onto the white paper labeled 'referral.' It felt like a slap in the face, sitting in a comfortable office chair and spilling your deepest secrets to someone you barely knew, only for them to refer you to someone else.
'I don't know how else to help you.'
They would question you, offering you a false sense of security, yet when their prescribed medications and deeply-rooted questions did nothing, they simply lost hope in rekindling your sense of morality.
You were...beyond saving...
You slammed your car door shut, flinging the piece of paper onto your passenger seat where it lay abandoned, seemingly mocking you that it would add to your collection of your previous referrals, prescriptions, and office information. You sniffled, staring at the leather of your steering wheel. The next second, you were screaming, crying, and slamming your fist against the steering wheel as if it insulted you.
"Fuck!" You yelled, clutching your sore knuckles, staring at the bruises that were already starting to form from the force of your rage. "Fuck..."
You sniffled, staring into your rearview mirror, hastily wiping away the tears that were streaming down your face, eyes bloodshot and nose threatening to plug up from your excessive crying. You tried calming down, taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. Your first psychiatrist taught you about breathing exercises.
Yet, those techniques didn't stop you from the plague that invades your subconscious. The images of your family murdered, blood staining every crevice...
You shook your head before glancing over at the piece of paper, sighing to yourself as you reached over, picking it up. The name of your new therapist stared back at you, promising you of more false promises and hurt.
Dr. Lecter.
A few weeks later, you were sitting in the waiting room waiting for your first session. Well, first session with your new therapist. You were picking your nails as you watched the clock, dreading the unavoidable. The minutes were ticking by, seemingly mocking you of your adversity.
You were anxious all morning, pacing in your room, dressed and prepared only a few hours ahead of schedule. The drive was hellish, thoughts of canceling the appointment, suffering a fee and turning back haunted you. Now, you were in the waiting room with a racing heart, the pattering of the raindrops outside distracting you.
'I am beyond help...'
"Miss (L/N)?" A deep-toned voice asked.
Your head snapped, mind clearing as you faced the person that had called your name. Standing by the door, keeping it open with a charming yet polite smile upon his face, was your new and fourth psychiatrist.
Dr. Lecter
"Sorry, yeah, that's me." You said, standing from your seat but keeping your distance, you simply didn't want to barge into his office. You gave him a small smile, still feeling uncomfortable with the beginning of your session. "It's very nice to meet you, Dr. Lecter."
"Likewise." He replied, stepping to the side with the door still opened for you. "Shall we begin with our session for today?"
"Of course." You walked past him, nodding in thanks before stepping into his office, maintaining from letting out a gasp of surprise over the vastness of his office. If you hadn't known this was his office, you would have guessed it was. The room screamed elegance and filled with decor one would see in an art museum.
"You have a lovely office." You complimented, looking around the room as Dr. Lecter closed the door and walked over to his desk, picking up some papers.
"Thank you, I quite enjoy displaying decorum through interior decorating." He replied, almost in a teasing way. "I apologize that you've been waiting a few weeks before we could start. Your psychiatrist had to send your information over from previous sessions."
"I wish it were longer, actually." You stated halfheartedly, finally taking a seat when he gestured silently towards one of his many available chairs nearby, nodding in thanks.
"Not very fond of sessions are you, miss (L/N)?" He asked, glancing your way as he shuffled through some of your paperwork, most likely your old medications and lack of diagnoses.
"I'm not particularly fond of wasting my time talking about my issues until the person trying to help me figures out I'm just incurable." You refused to return his gaze, fiddling with your nails. "They can't figure out what's wrong with me."
"There is no such thing as being incurable, there's only being overlooked."
"How do you figure?" You asked in confusion, looking up to watch him place down the papers and take a seat across from you. You didn't like the way he refused to look away from you, it made you...fuzzy.
"I believe your experience with your previous psychiatrists are, in better terms, unfit to handle someone like you." He paused for a moment, "You need someone that is able to understand you, discover your innermost self and I'm simply a better fit."
You felt your cheeks warm slightly, glancing away and unable to understand that fuzzy feeling you were feeling in your chest. "You make it seem so undemanding." You only glanced back when he called your name.
"You, my dear, are not incurable."
You were speechless, you didn't know what else to say. Something that would make him deter him away, but nothing could cross your mind before he continued.
"You are not beyond saving."
You stared at him for a while, the words sinking into your mind and chasing away some of the doubt that has haunted you for a majority of your life. You decided, against your judgement and the aching of your heart at the risk of more pain, you would give him a chance.
You nodded, which prompted him to give you a polite smile.
Time to restart the process.
At first, it was morbid curiosity.
When Hannibal was notified that he was being referred to a fellow colleague's previous patient, he was curious, very curious. He wanted to know the reason a respected psychiatrist, with an incredible track record, couldn't help a patient for once.
Therefore, he decided he would see the person behind his fellow colleague practically being close to ripping their hair out in stress. However, he was genuinely surprised when he opened his office door and saw you sitting in the waiting room. Your timid form playing with your nails with your gaze laser-focused on the clock that you didn't even react when he stood in your presence. Yet, you were oddly polite and if Hannibal didn't read your paperwork, he would have assumed you were an ordinary girl with her own issues.
However, you were...different.
He couldn't place his finger on what it was, but you weren't like anyone else he had seen step into his office. Your profile made it seem like you were a delinquent waiting to happen. However, you were polite, respectful, and had a deep passion for the arts similar to himself. He's never met an individual who shared a multitude of common interests with him. Perhaps, he underestimated you. He certainly wasn't prepared by how pretty you were and how close you two would become and he wouldn't forget your first session. When he had the opportunity to dig deep within your center and rip out your deepest secrets about yourself, in his own space.
Your gaze was focused on the window, watching the water droplets from the rain slide down the glass, the sleeves of your sweater hiding your delicate fingers. Those slim fingers that he couldn't stop staring at. You seemed so helpless, desperate for validation for the things you were going through, and he wanted to know the root of the problem.
Perhaps then, his curiosity would dissipate and he would have an easier time letting someone like you go.
"You must tell me what you're feeling if I am to help you, Miss (L/N)." He spoke softly, crossing his fingers and catching your gaze as you turned away from the window to return your attention with him.
“I feel…” You muttered with a pause, before turning your attention to the man across from you, “like I’m a danger to myself and others because of the things I think about.”
“And what do you feel?” He asked, voice subconsciously matching your own.
“I think about hurting people, people that I used to care about. Seeing their faces twist in pain as their life drains from their eyes.”
“How does it make you feel? Those thoughts that haunt you, you mentioned that they plague you. Is it because you’re ashamed of them?” He mentally cursed himself, allowing his growing curiosity and obsession to take hold in order to discover you.
“They do haunt me but…it’s not because I’m ashamed of them.” You avoided the intensity of his stare, staring at the loose fabric of your sweater. “I’m ashamed of them because I like the thoughts.”
He swore he felt his heart skip a beat.
It has been six months since you've become his patient and Hannibal was plagued with conflicted feelings. Over the course of six months, Hannibal began to notice the ever growing affection he held for you. The soft moments between you during the break between sessions where you both would discuss your various common interests of art, music, and food.
He never thought he would find an individual so interesting, articulate, and extremely beautiful. He could still remember your lovely smile when he presented you with one of your favorite books he happened to have in his many collections of literature. He knew that he had fallen in love with you. Something he never quite expected to happen in his entire lifetime.
However, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Not when he was still continuing to be your psychiatrist.
A few days after your last session, he turned in his referral for your new psychiatrist and he prayed that you would allow him to reason with you when you find out what he has done in order to be with you properly. From your previous sessions, he knew of the abandonment you’ve feared, however, he didn’t want you feeling like he gave up on you.
He was sitting at his desk, checking his watch as he waited for your arrival. His mind was repeatedly going through the possibilities of your reaction. Your consistent timing insisted that you would arrive any minute. He decided with a heavy sigh, that he would check the waiting room and hoped that you would accept his feelings.
You smiled to yourself, sitting in your usual spot in the corner of the waiting room. You arrived a few minutes early, yet it allowed you to have some time for yourself before you continued your session with Dr. Lecter.
Despite the happiness you felt, you still felt a little nervous. For the past few weeks, you have realized something about yourself that you didn’t think would possibly ever happen. The fuzzy feeling that continued to tickle your mind all those months was the blossoming feeling of love.
It left you scared, scared of the possibility of what it could do to affect the professional relationship between doctor and patient. The possibility of Dr. Lecter discovering your feelings and refusing to continue helping you. All due to the disgust of having someone like you fall for someone like him. It left you feeling defeated already, yet you will allow yourself to continue to be around him. To be around him and never letting your feelings show.
The sound of the door opening made you stand, giving Dr. Lecter a smile which he gladly returned with a soft greeting. However, something in his face made you hesitate in replying. He seemed to have something bothering him and your heart skipped a beat.
This couldn’t be what you think it is…
Pushing the thought from your mind, you quickly returned the greeting.
“Afternoon, Dr. Lecter.” You said, stepping forward when he moved to the side to allow you to walk past him and into his office. “Something troubling you?”
The suit-clad man quietly closed the door, walking past you to stand near his desk, he leaned against the wood, hands perched on the surface. “We have something to discuss.” He finally said, gesturing to the recliner.
“I think I can manage just fine standing.” You retorted, voice full of ice as your eyes hardened slightly. Your body tensed as you continued standing your ground, crossing your arms. “What’s the issue?” you asked, desperately trying to keep the hurt from your voice.
“Please, allow me to explain myself, I do not wish for you to assume-”
“I think I’m assuming correctly, right? Just go ahead and tell me what you’re thinking.”
He sighed, glancing away, presumably gathering his thoughts.
“I believe it is best if I am no longer your psychiatrist-”
Crash.
Hannibal ducked when something was sent flying towards his head, resulting in a loud crash as the object practically combusted against the wall. In instinct, he was quick to cover his face with his forearm, protecting himself from getting hit directly. He was shocked for a moment, processing what occurred before hearing you rush towards him.
“How could you?!” You yelled, trying to hit him with raised fists, becoming more annoyed when your old physiatrist kept blocking your feasible attacks. “You said you wouldn’t give up on me! You fucking liar!”
“I’ve never lied to you! Let me explain!” You couldn’t bother to see his reaction, his face expressing a mix of emotions of shock and desire. He never witnessed you become so angry before, especially at him. He found his fascination for you grew even more. “You’re only making things worse.”
“I don’t care, asshole!” You screamed, pushing him which didn’t even move him an inch as he stared down at you, gripping your forearms as you started crying. “Why are you getting rid of me!”
“You stupid girl!” Suddenly, you were pinned against the wall, gasping in shock at the warmth of Hannibal’s chest pressed against your own, your wrists pinned on each side of your head. “I only did it to be closer to you!”
“What…?” You were breathless, staring into his eyes that were full of darkness and something else you couldn’t recognize. His warm breath hitting the side of your face from his close proximity. “Then, why would you?”
Instead of answering, Hannibal simply leaned down and kissed you, warm lips pressed against your own, which quickly turned passionate. Eagerly, you returned the kiss, pressing closer to him as Hannibal let go of one of your wrists to grip the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair.
After a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, he slowly pulled away, gazing down at you while you tried catching your breath.
“I’m in love with you, (Y/N).” He stated, fingers pulling away from your hair to instead delicately graze the soft skin of your cheek. “I cannot court you properly if I remain your psychiatrist.”
“Dr. Lecter, I-” Your eyes watered, ashamed of your previous behavior.
“Hannibal, darling.” He muttered softly, stroking your cheek as he pressed his forehead against your own. “I accept you as you are and I want you to be mine, always. Will you consider that?”
You smiled softly, sniffling as you nodded, resulting in Hannibal pulling you into a tight embrace which you gladly returned. “You already have me.” You replied.
Spam Liking = Blocked
Taglist: Comment to be added!!
@prettywhenibleed
#hannibal lecter#hannibal lecter x you#hannibal lecter x y/n#hannibal lecter fanfiction#hannibal lecter fanfic#nbc hannibal#hannibal nbc#hannibal x reader#hannibal lecter x fem!reader#fem!reader#hannibal nbc fanfiction#hannibal nbc fanfic#nbc hannibal fanfiction#nbc hannibal fanfic#slasher fanfiction#slasher fanfic
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Could I ask for Hannibal lecter with a former patient reader with extreme anxiety and fear of going outside and people? Maybe a house call for this little recluse?
(Would appreciate if they were also FTM but not a requirement)
Thanks!
-B
A/N; Hi B, thanks for the request even though it had been weeks since you sent it to me... oops. I hope you'll like it. Enjoy!
Warnings; Anxiety and panic attack, reader has phobia of going outside.
You were triggered again, you had a specific nightmare last night. In the nightmare you were being chased by your stalker (you had a stalker last year so developed a certain anxiety about going out. Thankfully he is behind bars now.) in the nightmare he was holding a gun and chasing you in the public but no one helped you. Except him. Doctor Hannibal Lecter. Due to your circumstance you sought professional help. You did a profound research about him and his techniques and you found nothing but good review. You decided to give it a shot and you didn’t regret it at all. You explained your situation to him in detail via email, he replied saying that he was glad to work with such an open minded and communicative young woman.
He urged you to go to his office for the first session but you were unwilling so you suggested to do it online, it was 45 minutes and when you were, put the laptop away… you felt a sudden relief.
The next session he suggested to go to a coffee shop near your home, you liked the idea and agreed.
It was a cold Baltimore weather so you both had gloves, long coats, he couldn’t help but notice how professional you dressed. A black pencil skirt, a dark red blouse, soft make-up, hair let loose yet kept under control and delicate hands holding your coffee mug. You were well mannered and put together. Also, your impression on him was the same as him, both of you had a mutual feeling for each other that day. Normally, Dr. Lecter had 45 minute sessions with his patients just like your first session. However, with you, it was more than 2 hours. The conversation was elite and brilliant that he didn’t want to leave that cozy place, after the session he gave you a lift and planned the next session.
Weeks passed and you started to go to his office, you had an idea about his environment but seeing it for the first time was something else. His office was like a mixture of library and museum, which both of those places were your favorite. When he saw the inquisitive shine in your eyes he let you explore.
You talked about your favorite books and art and culture etc.
You loved talking to him and he loved talking to you. Most of his patients were shallow and stupid but you knew your art and literature. After decades of being surrounded by peasants Hannibal found someone who got excited about small things and had her own brilliant opinions. Your energy was refreshing to say the least.
The nightmare you had made you paranoid, your door was locked, windows shot and curtains closed, you were in your pjs and in 45 minutes you had to be in Dr. Lecter’s office. It was impossible, you sent him an email about bot being able to make it today. Instead of replying by an email he called you directly, ‘’Hello, Dr. Lecter.’’
‘’Hello , Y/N.’’ he started, he had started to address you by your name few weeks ago and asked you to do the same but his demeanor and the way he held himself made you a bit intimidated. ‘’I hope you are well.’’ He continued, ‘’Is there a problem?’’ there was a silence. ‘’Yes, I don’t think I can come today.’’ You simply replied, covering yourself with blankets on your couch, total darkness surrounding you.
‘’Your voice sounds strange.’’ He announced, you didn’t say anything and he let a sigh of distress, He ‘’I’m coming over. Do not move.’’ And he hung up.
He knew your address, something in you kept you at your place or maybe it was his strict tone.
Some time later there was a knock on your door which made you jump from your seat, you grabbed a knife from the kitchen and walked to the door.
‘’Its me.’’ You heard his voice, ‘’You can lower your weapon of choice.’’ He added, how did he know that you were carrying a weapon?
You opened the door to him, he looked at you up and down and let himself in, closed the door and locked it. Seeing such a young and elegant woman being torn apart by her mental state made him feel something… he felt as if he was her savior.
You noticed that the second you saw him you felt safe, like a sense of warmness spreading inside of your chest.
You turned to go to the living room, he followed, this was the first time he saw your house, he was in awe of how clean and organized it was even though it was dark due to the fact that all the curtains were closed.
He sat on a single armchair, placed his leather bag next to his feet, his coat placed on his lap, you took your place among your blankets.
‘’May I ask what has made you… like this?’’ he looked around the room, ‘’I don’t want to talk about it.’’ You said like a little child.
‘’Are you hungry?’’ he asked to change the subject, you realized that you didn’t eat anything since you have woken up. He understood from your deep eyes and stood up.
Soon you heard sounds coming from the kitchen. You decided to get a sneak peek, he wore your red apron and cooking something from the things he found in your fridge. It melt your heart.
Hannibal Lecter wasn’t used to this but when he saw you like that he couldn’t help but be there for you, you were an interesting case for him and he even thought about keeping your mental health not worse but not good either so that he could keep having you in his life but it seemed like you were planning to be in his life for a long time weather as a friend, a patient or someone close..
Thank you. :)
#fanfiction#fanfic#reader insert#hannibal#hannibal lecter#hannibal x reader#hannibal x you#mads mikkelsen#reader#mads mikkelsen x reader#mads mikkelsen x you#mads mikkelsen icons#mads mikkelsen fanart#nbc hannibal#hannibal nbc#hannibal lecter fanfic#hannibal lecter fanfiction#doctor hannibal lecter#requests are open#request#requests open#reqs open#writing requests#taking requests
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𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
→ AMBUSH
upon missing a therapy session with dr. hannibal lecter, you’re invited for dinner at his house to make up for lost time.
→ more coming soon…
#hannibal#hannibal x reader#hannibal imagine#Hannibal imagines#Hannibal nbc#Hannibal fanfic#hannibal fanfiction#Hannibal Lecter#Hannibal Lecter x reader#Hannibal Lecter imagine#Hannibal Lecter imagines#Hannibal Lecter fanfic#Hannibal Lecter fanfiction#slashers#slasher x reader#slasher fanfiction#slasher oneshot#hannibal x will#hannibal lecter x will graham#mads mikkelsen#mads Mikkelsen x reader
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Hi, I’m not dead..
In case you ever wanted to know how I plan my fics - here’s my latest brain storm.
(doodle in bottom right is traced because I wanted to emphasise certain parts rather than just have that full scene)
Image text below:
Hannibal = Pygmalion
write about drawing Will -> ‘carving’ = creating will into a murderer
meets will sees ‘potential’
begins creating/’carving’ will to be his -> the #manipulation
falls in love when “completed” i.e. will says he wants to kill him
Will: I want to kill you with my bare hands
Hannibal: I have never craved a man so carnally until now
Will = “Galatea”
Ivory skin motifs
statue = perfection
aphrodite mentions ?
I want will to wake up sweaty because of gay thoughts...
[in reference to an image of Pygmalion kneeling beside his statue] the way he is worshipping her... very hannibalesque
multiple chapters??? -> follow series plot w/ some extras
[in reference to a screencap of Hannibal’s drawing of Achilles and Patroclus] hannibal self insert fanart
-> also need to write the hannigram illiad fanfic...
#hannigram#hannibal#hannibal lecter#will#will graham#hannibal x will#hannibal lecter x will graham#hannibal x will graham#hannibal lecter x will#greek mythology fanfic#hannibal pygmalion#hannibal nbc#fanfic#hannibal fanfic#hannibal fanfiction#hannibal lecter fanfic#hannibal lecter fic#hannibal nbc fanfiction#will graham fanfic#pygmalion#galatea#writer things#fanfiction writer#My fic#my gay murder babies
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Doctor's Medicine || Chapter 1
Hannibal Lecter x Original Character
Word Count: 2.9k
CW/TW: NSFW 18+, graphic, disturbing content, dissociation, canon-typical violence.
Summary: Amongst his list of patients, Doctor Hannibal Lecter finds an interesting character in his latest, Emma Darcy, the author of a bestselling crime series whose mind is host to something clawing to be free. The two become inexplicably drawn to each other and things progress as Emma encounters a world of death. But the question is, who will change who?
[ao3 version here]
There’s a monster inside me. Emma believed this thought since her first body. Bug dead eyes affixed upon her, screaming with stiff muscles for her attention. Ordinary people, she supposed, retaliate. They run, they freeze; there’s an emotional response. She stared back and admired the skin’s complexion, the marbled musculature opened out on display. Albeit, while resistant to obey, a voice unlike hers gave those actions. It made her replay the death over and over to the point of meaningless where she was left to be creative in her own telling, coming up with bestseller-worthy skewerings ready to satiate a country for months.
There was a rare sliver of remorse in those stories. The monster was in control, a shapeless figure which pooled at the back of her mind like fog, seeping through the cracks when the time was right. When it seeped, it poured, and the noise became maddening.
Emma Darcy. Recorded as "age: twelve" back then by the pediatric nurses. They gave her colourful pills, which she fed the monster. For a time, medication worked fifty-fifty.
On days like these, in Baltimore’s blood-stained oasis, pills did nothing.
Perhaps that had been why she readily accepted her agent’s urge for psychiatric assessment instead of continuing her research. Each crime scene made her sicker and sicker, each carcass, each blood spatter, each playing out the scene in her head. Even Emma grew scared towards herself – when the world already regarded her books with the same spine-scattering fear – at the dedication. Therapy seemed, naturally, like one more option to consider, dreaded though it was to be scrutinised again after self-medicating.
All this for the sake of quelling the monster.
An empty waiting room. The clicking clock. Painful silence in luxurious comfort; Emma had wedged herself in a leather seat for the past ten minutes. Her foot tapped to the seconds which passed until her time with the proclaimed ‘finest’ psychiatrist arrived.
2:30 pm. Click. The door opened. “Miss Darcy?” asked the man at the room’s entrance. The accent, while unable to pinpoint, could not be missed.
“Please, just Emma,” she said, taking the time to take in his well-composed stature and three-piece suit – grey; neutral.
“Of course. My apologies, Emma.” Dr. Lecter’s lips formed a thin smile. “Please come in.” He welcomed her out from the small and into an overly large, lavish office which seemed like a mix between old-fashioned and modern with a high ceiling, pillars that spanned the same height, red walls and fixtures that brightened under the spring sun, and a pair of black leather chairs. It looked more like a room than anything at a hospital. It looked like a home. “Take a seat,” he said, gesturing over to the other chair opposite from him as he situated himself into place. Legs crossed.
Emma made her way over, heels resounding off the hardwood floor at uneven beats. “I must say sorry in advance,” she began as she accepted her appointed seat. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any sort of psychiatrist. So, you’ll have to excuse my nerves.”
“That’s not a problem at all. As long as you’re in this room, Emma, you should have nothing to be nervous about, I assure you.” His words gave way to a sense of kindness akin to sensitivity via carefully constructed sentences. From the moment she saw his tall, lean frame, the nerves cemented themselves and the longer she looked, the more Emma couldn’t help but notice the well-mannered self he portrayed in his appearance. His hair: short and tamed, but wild in colour as if it couldn't decide on anything other than aged by way of greys. His eyes: ever watching, ever focused, and soft. A calm wave washed her into an ease she had no control over. He was right, in some sense. There was nothing to worry about, at least, as far as she had been aware. Hannibal Lecter was just a man, a psychiatrist, a doctor.
“Shall we start with why you’ve decided to try therapy again?” asked Dr. Lecter, filling the silence.
Emma blinked, returning to reality. “Y-Yes.” Unaware her mind had wandered for so long, she cleared her restless vocal cords before answering, “you may have noticed that I wasn’t the one who made the appointment. My literary agent, Marcus Hall, took the liberty of doing so on my behalf.”
“I may have. But I did not believe it was my place to mention.”
“Well, thank you.” Emma smiled. The muscles in her cheeks grew lax as she continued, “what I do is not for the faint of heart, I take it seriously, and my mental health hasn’t slipped in years. Le Belle Mort is my life’s work. Each novel is inspired by real homicides. They help people understand the beauty in things which would otherwise scare them. Life may be beautiful, but so is death.”
“Le Belle Mort: The Beautiful Death.” Dr. Lecter rolled the words off his tongue with such an exquisiteness Emma found marvelling. “A wonderful notion,” he said, leaning back.
“It can be when executed properly. Such art requires a careful hand and good inspiration. Hence why I’m here in Baltimore, and considering I’m looking at the Chesapeake Ripper, I guess Marcus was just worried I might slip up sooner rather than later.”
Pale yellow rays danced along the sharp edges of his face as it tilted to the side. “And you agreed?”
“The people closest to you can usually tell when something is off, even when you don’t.”
“Sometimes. But, often, we are the only ones who can ever truly know. You showing up here today is a sign that you do.”
“I’m not sure I entirely do know,” she admitted softly.
“As humans, we have a desire towards knowledge. Without it, life would not be able to exist. It creates power. Admittedly, when someone knows something you don’t, it is natural to be afraid. There are no nerves in this room, Emma,” he explained, weaving the threads of his cold intellectualism into his compassionate psychology and awaited her response. She did; a gulp made poignant noise. He had a point. A honed needle-shaped point, which he began to stitch with. “Now tell me, what does Marcus see in you that no one else doesn’t?”
“Probably,” said Emma as she drew a long breath, “the fact my medication isn’t taking so well anymore.” She could feel the seams coming together on her skin, on her mind, sealing the holes she wished to retreat inside of and keeping her together. Thin, tiny tingles.
“May I ask why you’re on medication?”
“My research can get quite intensee. Hours are spent going over gruesome details; what the tissue looks like, the angle of the rod when inserted through the eyeball, blood splatters, body decomposition and etcetera. I see dead bodies in my day-to-day, Dr. Lecter. Real bodies and I used to not be fazed by it since started.”
Hannibal remained still. He analysed each second between her breaths; saw the rise and fall of her chest beneath her marigold shirt. “That sort of work can tax the mind over time. The more you see, the more that gets added to the pile before your mind eventually cracks from underneath. What you are experiencing could very well be as simple as not increasing dosage over time.”
“It’s not the work itself which fazes me.” Emma’s heart raced at perturbing thoughts.
“Then what drives this fear?”
Uncertainty betrays her. She tears herself from his undeterred gaze.
“Emma,” said Hannibal, attempting to bring her back, “are you afraid someone is going to get hurt?” By now, the skilled psychiatrist spotted the mirror which sat across from him. Emma leant back at the same degree and angle, her hands situated similarly in her lap, her legs and face at odd parallels to the horizontal floor. And she looks not at him, but at the deepest, empty black pools of his eyes. For the first time, he truly looks back into her dark blues, which shimmered; possibility.
———
Yellow tape hung from the ornate door. A dozen uniforms walked in and out of the mid-century home, bypassing the tape. Two stood guard at the front. Radio chatter made a constant noise throughout the empty chambers. Flash photography went off, and flashlights shone in search. There had been no blood.
Nonetheless, Emma Darcy’s living situation was a crime scene.
Three hours ago, she had returned from her session with Dr. Lecter to the package at her door. About two hours was how long the police riffled through her small inventory of stuff, asking her questions and making sure she remained on the premises for the time being. Two hours to have the image of opening the package and dropping skin fragments on tiled flooring replay repeatedly. The package: navy blue, neatly wrapped with a bow. The contents: jigsaw squares cut from the same skin, Caucasian (like her), edges clean. This image played in her mind as a welcomed family member. It had been there before, but younger. An old case; her first book.
Her nails dug into the bottom of the patio deck, and herself placed on the edge, chewing on her lip. Too focused to notice new faces approach. “Miss Emma Darcy?” Three separate footfalls. “I’m Special Agent Jack Crawford with the FBI.” So it was as serious. Emma lifted her head at the badge presented before her. “This is Special Agent Will Graham and—”
“Dr. Lecter,” Emma finished. Her back immediately straightened upon sight of him.
“You two know each other?” asked Crawford, as he looked between them to discern the recognition.
Dr. Lecter eyed her with caution. The move was hers to take. “We just met earlier today.” Wood splinters hitched her hands, which loosened their grip. “He’s my psychiatrist,” she clarified. Sooner or later, she’d have to admit it as part of her alibi.
The answer satiated Crawford’s curiosity. “Well, Dr. Lecter here is assisting with the case. I take it that won’t be an issue?”
“Not at all,” responded Dr. Lecter.
“Good.” He shoved his hands into the pocket of his coat; no answer needed from Emma. Whose gaze turned to the remaining man, Will Graham, as he began to speak, “we were informed when asked for a statement you were unresponsive. Could you answer a few questions for us now, Miss Darcy?”
“Oh.” She hadn’t realised. She swore she talked to at least one of them. “I… Yes, and, please, just Emma.”
Will gave her a sincere, restrained cheek pull as if to say sorry and of course simultaneously. Awkward, though endearing in a way, perhaps, only executable by him and his lost puppy dog eyes that wouldn’t give her the direct time of day.
“Shall we?” said Crawford, gesturing to the nearby table and chairs.
Howled winds moved first, faster than Emma could keep up with as it caught against her red hair. She required focus to move. Otherwise, every touch felt reminiscent of the soft skin tissue she had handled mere hours ago. Right down to the temperature. She could feel it. Her knees buckled. All the weight bled out of her until nothing remained. Her head spun. Shapes merged into blurs, and a pair of hands grabbed her arms as her body dropped. Air hitched through her deprived brain. She could hear their collective worried exclaim and feel how small she was in that tight grasp to keep her upright. Eventually, a face broke past the dazed vision. “Take your time, Emma.” An unmistakable accent. Hannibal.
She peered up at him. He was calm even as his skin made contact with her bare forearms. Bodies close. Heat rose in her face, red being the first colour to return to her complexion – embarrassment, she called it at the time.
Forcefully swallowing the rock-shaped lump in her throat, Emma bobbed her head. “I got it.” Sure that she did, he removed himself. Shakingly, she pulled herself upright once more and made her way towards the opposite end of the deck. Her eyes moved faster than her feet as she became desperate not to see that face of Hannibal’s. Regardless, reminders of him stood everywhere. Pinewood trees surrounded the perimeter; grand and valiant against the chaos. They reminded her to breathe, to become one, to ground herself in the secluded forest. “Ask away,” said Emma, plopping beside the kitchen window.
Dr. Lecter and Agent Crawford took the remaining seats. Will’s fidgety self preferred to stand. “The easy stuff first,” said Crawford. “Take us through your day.”
She circled what phantom marks formed on her forearm as she sifted through her catalogic mind. “I woke up around eight o’clock, had breakfast and started my research until midday when I headed to my two-thirty appointment with Dr. Lecter. Then I went home, found the package, took it into the kitchen, opened it and called the police,” she explained.
“And I’ve noticed you have an accent. Are you…?”
“British? Yes. I just arrived a few days ago to work on my book.”
“Who owns the house?” queried Will plainly.
“My agent, Marcus Hall.” She turned her head. “He owns another place closer to the city, so he let me stay here.”
“Does anyone else know you’re here?”
“Except everyone here, no.”
Crawford spoke this time. “Any reason your mail wound up here, then?”
“Fan mail. After an incident a few years back, Marcus has been handling it for me. He most likely left it here for me,” said Emma. Distracted, her eyes followed a heavily clothed officer through the open window. Nosey and inquisitive, his naked hand itches above a forgotten string. “Don’t touch that!” Emma shouts, lesser than a worry and more fierce than annoyed. A command. One none of them expected based on her demeanour. “Gloves on or walk away.”
Caught in the act, the officer darts frantically between Crawford and Emma with his brows furrowed only to be met with a similar stare. There was no sympathy to be won. He backed away, and she hung her head, still reeling despite the little adrenaline rush that had kicked its way in. “Sorry, force of habit,” she said.
“You do that often?” asked Crawford.
“A few times, yes, back in England. I worked with public services, so I’m aware of the protocol.”
“More than just aware, it seems. You pieced the human puzzle together and left no trace.”
“That.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, tissue grating against tissue. “That was for my sake. I know it sounds crazy, but I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if I didn’t know.”
“Not crazy, Emma. In your circumstance, it is understandable,” countered Dr. Lecter.
“What’s crazy is the exact same package arriving at my desk this morning,’ put in Crawford.
“… You don’t think I did it?” Emma laid eyes on the three of them, voice thick with tension.
Crawford peered at Will, conferring silently on his assessment. A glint reflected from a lens as the Special Agent removed his glasses, lips pursed and he shook his head. An outsider couldn't understand what it meant, even more so than what probably went on inside his head. But Jack Crawford had not been a stranger to this communication. He leant over the drab table. “No. In fact, we know you couldn’t have,” disclosed Crawford.
Baffled, her stomach fluttered. “So why are you telling me this?”
“Because the box had your name on it. Whoever did this wanted you and the FBI to know,” told Will. There contained a scrunched-up look on his face, apologetic in tone.
“We were hoping you might be able to help us, Emma,” said Crawford. “Any information you have, anything, would be grateful.”
Questions and answers, everyone had them. This new information fed that cycle. She could tell them everything – connect the points as she did with the puzzle – all it would cost was a dip. How much would the ultimate cost be? Enough to remain with some grip on reality? Maybe that’s all she needed. Enough.
She’d tell them enough. She wanted to help, even if there wasn’t much she could do.
But a detail had gone missing. “Is it a woman?” Emma piped.
Crawford squinted. “I’m sorry?”
“The victim you have. Is it a woman?”
“We’re not sure yet. Why?”
“My puzzle is missing about half its pieces. The first book in my series contains a similar murder. Every detail so far matches up. It's the first out of many. I needed to be sure.”
Will’s eyes widened as he connected the points. “You think there’s going to be more.”
Emma acquiesced and nodded. “It is highly probable,” she said, “and you have the other half.”
Darkness set on Baltimore and a fog wanting more, without a care for who was present, spread. Psychiatrist and patient set their sights on each other.
Two rooms over, spread out atop carpet in an intricate pattern, laid the human flesh that had been cut only to reform back as half a body. A young female. No detail spared as they all merged and were torn once more, crimson spilling at the edges of Emma’s mind. Piecing it back together. Over and over. Again and again. Visceral and real. Her story became reality.
The line began to blur.
———
“Emma,” said Hannibal, attempting to bring her back, “are you afraid someone is going to get hurt?”
“I’m afraid of myself,” she admitted. “I’m afraid I’m going to get hurt.”
#Hannibal#Hannibal x oc#Hannibal Lecter x original character#Hannibal nbc#Hannibal lecter#Hannibal lecter fanfiction#Hannibal fanfic#Hannibal lecter fanfic#Hannibal fanfiction
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Predator & Prey
Author: locke-writes
Title: Predator & Prey
Request: Songfic using Bad Romance - Lady Gaga, with Hannibal Lecter For: Anon
Rating: T/M
Word Count: 1,090
Warnings: Manipulation, gaslighting, stalking
Tag List: @multifandomfix / ask to be added
Hannibal had first noticed you when working on a case with the FBI. You'd been doing research in the library and scattered around you were books flipped open to numerous diagrams of the human torso. You weren't involved in the case that much the FBI knew as there was no indication of interviewing you or any of the other patrons, yet for Hannibal there was some curiosity that came upon him as he questioned why you were taking notes on a multitude of medical diagrams.
What you were doing, was research for a book discussing the change in medical knowledge over time and the diagrams were being referenced to identify when anatomical knowledge changed over time. You'd been focused on your work to the point where you hadn't noticed yourself being watched. Maybe if you had it would have been easier to identify Hannibal as the person you felt watching you in the next months.
There were ways he could have found you had you not come back to the library. There were ways he could have seemingly slid into your life without a worry but he knew how to be trusting, knew how to make it seem as though everything about meeting you was a coincidence. When Hannibal wanted something, he went out of his way to get it, and he could be as charming as he needed to get you to trust him.
He had come back a few days after the visit with the FBI, wondering whether you would be there or not. For a week you had yet to appear and he had almost resorted to making you a suspect in a murder case so that he had a chance to speak to you but the last day before executing a plan to bring you closer to him, there you were at the front desk returning a book. It was easy enough for him to track you down from there, to follow you without you noticing.
That was what he'd do best, study the patterns that people build their lives around and slowly ingratiate himself in their lives. With you he wondered how long it would take, how long until he had you to himself. How long would it take to make you fall in love with him?
Following you out of the library Hannibal made sure to note your itinerary for the day. He was grateful that there'd been no calls from the FBI and no emergency sessions with any of his patients. For now he was totally devoted to you, to figuring out just who you were and perhaps who he could turn you into. For two entire weeks he watched you, he tracked every movement that you made and every place you visited. Two weeks for him to believe that he understood you well enough to make you believe he was no threat to you or anyone else.
And so it began. You worked for a publisher's office Monday through Thursday and he'd been able to piece together based on phone conversations that he'd heard, that you had Friday's free to spend at the library for research on your own work. He had patients to see and no official way to make sure that he could meet you in the library at any point of the day. However he knew your schedule now, he knew that he could rework appointments so that he could run into you. And he knew enough to make it look completely accidental.
Already he had observed you sharing the tables in the library without needing to be asked when the library became full in the afternoons. It was easy enough to pretend that he had accidentally arrived at the busiest time of the day and it wasn't as though he wouldn't be doing work, there were medical and psychiatric journals to keep up with. You were welcoming when he asked if he could join you, and there it was, the bait had been taken.
He was polite, genuinely intrigued by the responses to his questions. He had assumed you would try and brush him off when he began speaking while you were working but he was mistaken by the way you took the opportunity to share your research with him. Your intelligence and kindness were not a surprise to him, the attraction he'd had to you before this meeting had been fueled by those traits, the entire plan to find you and bring you into his world, to let you fall into the darkness.
Time would be all that it took to trap you into his web of destruction, of terror. You wouldn't know who he really was or what he really wanted, only what he made you think that you deserved. This was his wish, to have you so wrapped around his finger that it would be easy to destroy you. You would have to fall in love with him, would have to fall apart for him in any way that he could control.
He was charming, that was what you noticed. Attractive, charming, kind, and you found yourself falling for him easily. When he asked you to dinner it wasn't alarming, he played the part well. You felt comfort in being around him, comfort in being with someone who was listening to what you had to say and actually taking in the words.
And that was how it began, one date after another, dinner and plays and symphonies and having academic discussions where you didn't know he was just picking at your brain for more information that he could use against you in the long run. You loved him, and he loved you. At least that is what you believed, what he guided you to believing. You were unwitting in all things to do with him, not suspecting his murderous abilities or the meat that he cooked was anything but that from an animal.
There was no telling how long he could keep going on like this. His plan would have to fully proceed forward, he was twisting your life in his hands, waiting for the day when he could push you into the next level. It was what he dreamed of, what he felt from the first moment he laid eyes on you. He had waited to meet you, waited to gain your trust, and he could wait as much as was needed before he could place a knife in your hand and guide you into the same darkness that he had long existed in.
#locke writes#nbc hannibal#hannibal lecter#nbc hannibal fic#hannibal lecter fic#nbc hannibal fanfic#hannibal lecter fanfic#nbc hannibal oneshot#hannibal lecter oneshot#nbc hannibal imagine#hannibal lecter imagine
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The train jerked into motion as it pulled away from the station, and Clarice stirred beside him.
Hannibal hushed her, bringing up a hand to stroke her cheek, hoping to soothe her back into slumber. But Clarice’s eyes were open now, and she repositioned her head to look up at him, blinking the sleep from her eyes.
He sighed. He wasn’t sure whether it was the situation, the FBI agent in her or a combination of the both, but she was always on high alert and could never relax.
“Where’re we?” she murmured, sitting up.
“Somewhere along the Slovakian border,” he told her.
Fanfiction: Cometh the Man
First chapter now posted on Wattpad, AO3 and Fanfiction.net @myramcqueen
#hannibal lecter#hannibal#hannibal the cannibal#silence of the lambs#thomas harris#hannibal rising#anthony hopkins#clarice starling#clannibal#hannibal fanfic#hannibal fanfiction#hannibal lecter fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#wattpad#fanfiction.net#ao3#julianne moore#hannibalxclarice
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"disturbing themes" as a tag for hannibal fics is so funny to me cause like yeah no shit, they have heterosexual sex in that show, that shits disturbing. oh? you mean the cannibalism and murder? oh, yeah I guess
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He's not my enemy. He is my homoerotic rival and if anybody but me ever tries to hurt him I will promptly kill them.
#hannibal lecter#will graham#hannigram#hannibal#this is applicable to many pairings so pls feel free to blorbo tag#this is just a thought i had while making up witty banter for a fanfic#nbc hannibal#hannibal nbc#hannibal the cannibal#i hate to say it but#drarry#draco malfoy#harry Potter#listen i hate her just as much as most trans people but the fanfiction is fair game#enemies to lovers#enemies with benefits#enemies to friends trope#nygmobblepot#idk how i didn't think of them#my loves#edward nygma#oswald copplepot#batjokes#bruce wayne#joker
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AWWWW WHY R THEY SO SCRUMDILLYUMPTIOUS 🥹
#nbc hannibal#nbc hannigram#hannibal#hannibal lecter#hannibal fandom#hannibal fanart#hannibal fanfiction#hannibal family#will graham#mads mikkelsen#hugh dancy#tv shows#fanart#fanfic#hannigram#m/m ship#bryan fuller#hannibal season one#hannibal season two#hannibal series#hannibal season three#hannibal season four
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You fog up my brain, you make me insane… Hannibal Lecter x fem! Reader
Synopsis: examining your shared obsession
content warning . 18+, MDNI oral fixations, codependency, heavy biting kink, mentions of cannibalism. Blood, teeth, and body worship
୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
Hannibal opens his mouth for her whenever she asks. Nimble, soft padded fingertips touch the tip of his tongue and move even further. Over his teeth, the expanse of his gums. She rubs her tongue over her own canines in retaliation. The urge to bite into him is so incredibly chastising.
She almost does it, a few times. When his throat is close, she leaves a few marks. Her teeth sink into him and leave a clear indent, though she vows never to reveal muscle, blood, or bone. Her hands run through his hair, and she douses her own in his shampoo when she’s in the shower. His nails are clipped short; she bites hers clear down to the nub. He tells her to kiss him, and she does— teeth biting his lip, tongue roaming that mouth she loves oh so much. Close to drawing blood, but not quite.
Until he tells her to. One mindless, rainy night, her body is sprawled out on top of his, thighs on either side of his hips. The ribbon in her hair is the only thing you could consider covering her. And him, the rings adorning his fingers. His bare chest is enticing, and she leaves sweet lipstick prints along the skin. He soothes her heated neck with his hand, proving coolness and relief. She runs her blunt nails through the hair peppering his chest.
“I want to crawl inside your skin and never leave.” She mumbles, her face nuzzling him.
He doesn’t find this to be scary, or vile. He feels exactly the same way, and nods along. He trails a finger up her hip and back down again.
“I would let you,” and then, as his nose moves up to nuzzle her own, “you’re special.”
Her lashes flutter and she sighs in content. His arms wrap around her back and he pulls her down to his lips. When he kisses her, it’s on the cheeks, forehead, and nose.
“My special girl.”
A small smile, pouty lips kissing him right back. She grabs his much larger hand into her own, presses his wrist to her lips and feels the heartbeat underneath the skin.
He licks his lips and guides her hand to his torso, settling right above his navel.
“Bite me here,” he murmurs, and she lets out a tiny squeak.
“What?”
“Here. Bite me here, I want to feel your teeth.”
She can never deny him, and she would never dare question him. She moves lower so her head is face to face with his waist. Her teeth scrape against his flesh, tasting sweat and skin.
Hannibal. She tastes Hannibal.
She bites, hard. The older man below her lets out a groan, feeling her break the skin and draw red rivulets of blood, finally.
She’s no vampire, of course. But his blood fills something in her— a completion. A promise.
When she pulls away, her teeth are red. The large indentation on his skin makes her rut down against his thigh. Her fingers slip against the wound as she adjusts— a happy little accident. She presses them into his mouth and feels the soft expanse of his tongue and his teeth. He stares up at her as he sucks them. He releases them from his mouth with a lewd pop, inhaling through his teeth. She tilts her head, almost in awe of him.
“You’re beautiful.” she says timidly.
He smiles softly.
“And you’re perfect, you know,” he replies. “Anyone would be a fool not to worship you, darling.”
Heat creeps up her neck, and when the man reaches up to tug the pink ribbon out of her hair, she whines.
“It took me forever to do my hair like this!” she exclaims.
“Mmm..” Hannibal replies, and looks at her hair, as if examining. “I already ruined it when I was fucking you, don’t you think?”
She flushes. The man below her begins wrapping the ribbon around her head. Her brows furrow, but not before they’re raising as he slips the ribbon into her mouth and gags her with it.
“Need to muzzle you good, don’t I? Since you love biting me so much.”
He watches the way her drool begins soaking through the fabric. Seeing her distraught face, he coos, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, sweet girl. But you need to be controlled, disciplined,” and then, “You know I only want what’s best for you.”
She whimpers, hips grinding down onto his crotch. He’s hard now, leaking and ready to slip inside her, and that he does. Spreading her cheeks apart, his tip probes her already filled hole. He had fucked her an hour before, filled her to the brim with his seed, and now he intends to do it again.
He sheathes inside in one go. Her eyes roll back, clit throbbing as he flattens his feet on the bed and thrusts up. Her body falls forward, causing him to bury his face into her collarbone, and he grunts against her. She feels something sharp against her shoulder— teeth.
He bites down, hard. She lets out a yell, feeling him sink into her skin. He has surely drawn blood, because when he pulls away his lips are stained red.
“See?” He asks her, licking his lips. “Now we match, lover. It’s perfect, isn’t it?”
Tears fall down her cheeks, and she nods. It is perfect.
It’s even more perfect when Hannibal uses the strength of his hips to turn the girl onto her back. She lets out a mewl, and with his cock still in her, Hannibal grabs her roughly by her thighs as he’s on his knees. Her back arches as he pulls her legs over his own, fucking her down onto his thick length. He grabs the soft expanse of her waist, grunting as he watches her tits jiggle with every thrust.
“That’s it,” he breathes, as she squirms underneath him. “Such an obedient girl for me.”
She doesn’t know where to put her hands, so with her most basic instinct she presses them on top of Hannibal’s own. He grabs them, holding them against her skin and cooing.
“I’ve got you. I’m right here.”
These words comfort her, bring a relief to her fuzzy brain, and she needs him closer. Closer, closer, closer.
She pulls his hands towards her, signaling for him to move. He moves forward, pressing himself against her body.
“I don’t want to crush you,” he says, and she bites her lip.
“I do.”
He does anything she asks, really. He puts all of his weight on her, lets her nails rake down his back and draw blood. She sinks her teeth into him more, rubs the blood on her lips and kisses him. He licks into her mouth and when he pulls away it’s so he can spit onto her tongue. She swallows it greedily, her heels pressing into his hips as he pounds her mercilessly. One hand moves to her clit, rubbing it deftly between his fingers, and his other hand goes to her throat, which he lightly squeezes.
“Look at you,” he praises, watching her lidded eyes. “So pretty and pliant for me. So beautiful.”
“Hanni—“ she starts, but it’s cut off as her orgasm rapidly approaches. “I’m gonna cum—“
“Cum for me,” Hannibal growls. “Cum for me, gorgeous. Fucking soak me.”
That’s all the command she needs. She seizes up, whimpers loudly as she reaches her peak, her eyes rolling back as she cries out his name. Hannibal watches with a small smile, but not before the clenching of her orgasming cunt has his mouth falling open as he gives two final, harsh thrusts. He spills into her with his teeth on her neck, fucks his cum into her, warm and wet.
She milks him for all he has. Her cunt takes his spend greedily, spilling over the rim of her hole and onto the sheets. Hannibal stays inside for a moment to catch his breath, deciding to collapse onto her. Not that she minds; he isn’t that heavy, and she likes the weight of him. He buries his face in her neck and sighs, absolutely spent.
“My darling girl.” he murmurs, as if in a trance. She hums a timid reply, her fingers curling into his graying locks. He kisses her on the jugular. She kisses him on the forehead. He means everything to her.
“My darling boy.” She replies. He chuckles, lifting his head and kissing her on the mouth again. She bites his bottom lip teasingly and worries the skin in between her teeth. It draws more blood, and she licks it up with her tongue.
When Hannibal pulls away, his cock slips out of her. She feels his cum dripping out of her entrance, but she ignores it. Instead, she opts for curling up on his chest again, her leg slung over his hip and her hand rubbing over the bite mark she had given him. He grabs her wrist, slipping her index finger into his mouth and suckling. She runs the pad of it over his teeth, a little crooked but absolutely perfect to her.
When she falls asleep, fingers in his mouth, she’s never been more satiated.
:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy
#bunny writes#Hannibal#Hannibal lecter#Hannibal lecter x fem! reader#Hannibal lecter x reader#Hannibal lecter smut#Hannibal lecter blurb#Hannibal lecter drabble#Hannibal lecter oneshot#Hannibal lecter fanfic#Hannibal fanfic#hannibal nbc#mads mikkelsen
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look ….. we often say will graham autism. will graham autistic. but how about HANNIBAL LECTER AUTISM???!???!?!!!!!!!!! listen. he always wears suits. is very weird about his cooking and food. has little empathy (and if he has he controls it). thinks himself above everyone else. freaks out when som1 actually hurts him. freaked out when will didnt come to his appointment. extremely quick dependence on will. knows like 8 languages. has PERFECT extensive memory. needs everything to be clean and perfect. his hyperfixations are KILLING and MONEY. do you get me
#im not saying hes autistic IN the show but in fanfics and such…..🤭#hannibal lecter#hannibal nbc#will graham#hannibal#hes the evil version of autism. the one tv shows and movies dont want us knowing about
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It's always
"When will fanfic writers update their stories?"
And never
"Does this fanfic writer have adequate enrichment to engage in writing behaviours?"
Fanfiction writers (Scriptor fictus) are intelligent animals who need plenty of enrichment as well as encouragement! If they're stuck in poor conditions (e.g. have studies, work, have to actually write to have something written) then they require the proper enrichment to engage in more healthy behaviours, like writing. Remember, due to poor breeding and socialisation, over half of all fanfic writers suffer from low self confidence and executive dysfunction so take care of them!
Give your fanfic writers proper care. Fanfiction writers are a life long commitment.
#im funny#fanfic#fanfiction#fandom#fanfiction community#writer#writing#writer community#fanfic community#fanfic writers#fanfic writer#hannibal#hannigram#hannibal lecter#hannibal x will#hannibal nbc#interview with the vampire#murder husbands#nbc hannibal#emptinesstomelody
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Every hannigram fanfic ever
#No hannigram fanfic is complete without this scene#hannibal#hannigram#murder husbands#will graham#hannigramedit#hannibal lecter#mads mikkelsen#hugh dancy#hannibal fanart#manip#made by me
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Not sure exactly what you’re okay/not okay with as far as requests go, but I’d like to request a Hannibal x AFAB reader (or gn if you prefer) where the reader has a crush on Hannibal and discovers that he’s a serial killer and tells him she’s more attracted to him because of it. I’d prefer it ends up in the bedroom (wink wink) but it’s up to you :)
A/N; Hello love, thank you for this request I certainly enjoyed writing it. Enjoy!
Warnings; Hannibal killing a man, a little smut
First time you saw him was something else. You almost became a victim of a serial killer but thankfully a team of FBI agents and Dr. Hannibal Lecter saved you. Turns out this killer was on the loose for months and you dropping your phone in his car made them catch him, you were forever grateful. Dr. Lecter was a psychiatrist who was helping the FBI with their serial killer cases and he was also collecting data for a research of serial killers and he offered free therapy sessions in exchange of information. Seemed like a good deal.
It had been few months since you started the therapy and it was going smoothly for him but for you, you had to keep pressing your thighs together every time he played with his pen or grabbed something. Over the weeks you saw and observed tiny changes in his behavior. He started to loose his tie around his neck, rolled up his sleeves, gave your lingering looks. You also had minor changes, such as; wearing clothes that fit your body perfectly and showing your womanly figure, curves and all. You knew that revealing clothes won’t make him come to you so you started to dress elegantly, just like him.
One time you mentioned how much you like baking and he asked you to bake something for him and you did. The next week you brought chocolate chipped cookies and he opened a bottle of wine.
He surprised you by having a cabinet in his office dedicated to all kinds of wine and you surprised him by fulfilling your promise of baking something for him. Hannibal Lecter never relied on anyone ever since he was a child, he never believed promises of people, even the ones he who are close to him because life thought him that people are deceitful animals. However, you managed to surprise him, it felt like a date but neither of you said anything about it.
Weeks went by and you kept surprising him with small things. One day, you baked a cake, it was the anniversary of you meeting him. You went to his office without telling him, it was suppose to be a surprise. Before you knocked on the door you heard some noises, a man coughing and things falling to the ground so you quickly opened the door to see the scenario.
Dr. Hannibal Lecter was on top of a man who was equally tall and strong as him and Hannibal’s big hands wrapped around that man’s throat, you halted in your steps. Your hands which were holding the container of the cake were shaking, your fight or flight response was triggered. You didn’t know what to do, in that moment you could feel everything and see, hear everything that was happening such as your soaked panties sticking to your core. You could feel your cheeks heat up, your heartbeat rising, Dr. Hannibal Lecter was murdering someone right in front of you and all you could think about or fantasies about how would you feel if his hands were wrapped around you, on his table..
When the man stopped breathing and struggling Hannibal bolted to his feet and turned to face you. His maroon eyes were startled at first but you could see his dilated pupils roaming on your body.
He didn’t say anything, his chest heaving up and down, he closed the door and locked it, he came to you and held your shaking hands, put the container aside, ‘’Shh, I’m here, calm down.’’ Now that he was close you could see the bruises on his face, dry blood on his plump lips, blackened left eye, scratches here and there. His fingers went to put a strand of hair behind your ear, even under this strange circumstances, his eyes were soft as they addressed you.
He guided you to the couch. He sat next to you, his eyes never leaving yours. ‘’Now,’’ he breathed, ‘’What shall I do with you, little dove?’’
You didn’t respond, you were a deer caught in the lights. ‘’He attacked me, you saw what happened. I was defending myself.’’ He was so calm a sudden thought crossed your mind;
‘’This isn’t his first time.’’
Your body shivered, you knew what he wanted. He wanted you to tell Jack Crawford and others what you saw but an altered version of it, all you could do was to nod and let things happen.
It had been few weeks since that incident and you avoided your sessions with him. You made up excuses, one week you pretended like you had the cold, the other week you said you were out of town etc.
Every week he sent you a present, the week you were supposedly cold he sent you soup and warm bread, it was handmade. There was also a note; ‘’Get well soon, dove.’’
Your knees went weak with that note and gesture, the other week he sent you flowers, elegant and pure white bouquet of peony. Last week you’ve made up a lame excuse of not being in the mood and he called you on the phone.
‘’Hello Dr. Lecter?’’ you answered in a calm manner, ‘’Hello dove, I was wondering-‘’ he paused for a second ‘’why are you avoiding me. Well, I know the reason but I want to hear it from you.’’ You felt your heart go faster, subconsciously your thighs were pressing hard, ‘’It is best that I don’t join the sessions anymore Dr. Lecter.’’ You said out of breath, hearing his voice after a long time did something to you. He let out a devastatingly long sigh, you felt it in your core. ‘’I was hoping it doesn’t come to this.’’ He sounded tired and defeated.
You imagined him sitting in his office, sleeves rolled up, playing with his pen while talking to you. You wanted to rush to his aid, he was a busy man with a hectic schedule, you wanted to give him something to come home to. The thought of it made you get wet.
‘’Thank you for testifying on my behalf.’’ He sounded genuine.
At first he thought you would tell the truth but when you told everyone exactly what he told you he was impressed. There was something about you that he couldn’t put his finger on. He sometimes had this urge to pull your brain out and study it because you fascinated him profoundly, but then the thought of physically hurting you made him feel disgusted, which was rare in his case.
‘’You saved me,’’ you said remembering the night, he was the one who wrapped you in a blanket and carried you to the ambulance, he was the one who sat and waited by your side in the hospital.
‘’and I saved you, the debt is paid.’’ Your free hand slowly went to the waistband of your pjs, sid in and found your aching core, he cannot possibly realize can he?
‘’My little dove, hearing you say this breaks my heart, your life is not a burden.’’ He knew how you feel about yourself, a freak, a burden..
You loved the way he said ‘’dove’’ his accent thick, you wondered what else is thick about him. You wanted him to keep talking to you.
‘’Where are you right now? And be honest.’’ His tone had a warning, such dominance.. ‘’H- home.’’
Hannibal wasn’t a stupid man, he admired your boldness, talking to your therapist while touching yourself.
‘’Good girl.’’ He loved your honesty, maybe you were the only person who was honest to him from the start ‘’What are you doing?’’ he asked, even though he knew it.
Your panties were soaked, ‘’Laying on my couch.’’ You managed to say, his hand went to stroke his clothed member, he swallowed, ‘’I was asking as in.. action wise.’’ He teased. You were rubbing your wet cunt slowly, you let out a sigh. A pornographic one to be exact. ‘’Nothing-‘’
He didn’t let you continue, ‘’Tell me, do you always dream of me when you touch yourself? His question shocked you, at first you thought you heard him wrong, but the silence continued. Cat was out of the bag, he caught you. ‘’Yes.’’ You said. Hannibal could feel himself getting harder. He stood up, locked his office door, you heard it. He sat back and unzipped his pants, he never thought he would be doing this in his office, well, he also never thought he would kill someone in his office but here we were.
‘’What are you wearing?’’ he asked, feeling like a school boy but it excited him. ‘’Nothing.’’
It was right, the second you heard him lock the door you took off your clothes, ‘’Clever girl. I assume you’re dripping wet, I have neglected you for so long, keep touching yourself.’’
Hannibal leaned back, stroking himself, his tip leaking, ‘’How do you dream of me?’’
One hand in your core the other touching your boob –he was on speakers- you spoke, ‘’Sometimes on the table, sometimes on the couch or in your bed. Pushing me down and taking me..’’
You remembered the scene, he was on the ground on top of a man and choking him. It made you moan. Your soft whimpers and divine voice made him stroke himself faster, ‘’Put two fingers inside sweet thing.’’
You could feel the shift in his voice. You moaned louder than before as you inserted your fingers, you were so wet he could hear it clearly. ‘’Every time I come from your office I touch myself.’’ You confessed, which made him growl, he was regretting that he didn’t take you before. He knew that you were interested in him from the beginning, he thought it was because you were in shock –due to your unique condition which is almost being murdered- and you were seeking shelter. He assumed over the weeks your fascination with him would disappear but he was wrong.
He was about to lose his mind because of the sounds you were making ‘’Stop!’’ he ordered and you followed. ‘’Wait for me.’’ And he hung up.
Never in a million years he would think of sleeping with a patient but you changed his mind, he got into his car and drove.
#fanfiction#fanfic#reader insert#hannibal#hannibal lecter#hannibal x reader#hannibal x you#mads mikkelsen#reader#mads mikkelsen x reader#hannibal lecter smut#smut fanfiction#smut fanfic#smut#mads mikkelsen x you#mads posts#mads mikkleson#mads mikkelsen imagine#requests are open#requests open#request
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