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whoreforhorror · 1 year

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Slasher with an S/O who self-harms

Included: Billy Loomis, Hannibal Lecter, Rusty Nail, Michael Myers, Bo Sinclair

Tw: Mentions of self-harm and blood

Billy Loomis

Billy had been out with Stu as Ghostface quite late into the night. He figured you would be asleep. Still, on the off chance that you weren’t, he made his way to your house. Realistically, even if you were asleep, he was just going to join you in bed.

He got to your window to find you were up, sitting on the edge of your bed with your back to the window. He was happy to see you up because he wanted to spend time with you, but it wasn’t really usual for you to be up quite this late. He snuck in quietly, planning to try and give you a scare, and got about halfway to you before he noticed a few more details he had missed.

You were incredibly quiet, the silence of the room feeling a bit suffocating at the moment. Your head was hung low and you had a blade in one of your hands. Your arms were bleeding. You were… bleeding? What the fuck?

Billy closes in on you, achieving his original goal of giving you quite the jump scare in the process. He didn’t care about that right now. Before you really know what was happening, you’re in the bathroom, sitting while he pulls out medical supplies. Billy was silent and methodical as he cleaned each wound, making sure they weren’t too deep before wrapping your arms in gauze and medical wrap. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t look at you.

He’d sit you back down on the edge of your bed, standing in front of you in silence. Even considering he didn’t really like to talk that much, he was too quiet. It put you on edge and made you worry. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or worried, and his face wasn’t giving anything away.

You avoided eye contact for what felt like an eternity before you came to the conclusion that you’d have to be the first to talk. “Billy-“ You couldn’t get anything out before he dropped to his knees in front of you and hugged your waist, burying his head in your stomach. You could hear him sob quietly into your shirt, and his hold on you was tight.

He cried for a while before he could gather himself enough to talk. Even then, all he said was “Why?”. He’d kill anyone responsible for making you feel this way. Point blank. No Stu, no Ghostface, no teasing or foreplay. It would be him, them, and his knife, and it would be messy. If it wasn’t that simple, he’d listen to everything you told him, anything you’d be willing to share. When you finished, he’d stand up to hold you properly and to talk in your ear. He couldn’t bring himself to talk anywhere above a whisper at the moment.

“I can’t lose you. You’re all I have. I love you so much-“ It was the first time he had told you that and you couldn’t ignore the sting created by having him say it in this moment rather than during something happy and romantic. “I need you here with me. Anything you want I’ll help you with. I’ll do anything to make you feel better, just say the word.”

Eventually, he’d get you to lay down with him and he’d hold you tight as you both slept. From now on, he’d keep a closer eye on you and anything your body language would tell him about how you’re feeling. Sometimes, when he’s really tired and you’re asleep, he’ll run his thumb over your scars and think to himself about how he’d missed the signs and what he can do to keep this from happening ever again.

Hannibal Lecter

The dinner party really wasn’t supposed to start like this. Hannibal had bought you an outfit he’d seen while he was out, and it had reminded him of you. It was a sweet thought, and you couldn’t deny it looked amazing, but there was one issue. It had short sleeves. You’d been able to get away with wearing long sleeves up until this point because of the weather, which was cold, but each day was just a bit warmer and it was to the point where it was too warm to add a jacket to an outfit. So here you were, looking at the outfit laying neatly on the bed, tears in your eyes as you thought about your arms and how Hannibal was going to react. Would he think you’re weak? Imperfect? Valueless? Would he think you were trying to damage his image?

Hannibal, who had been around for nearly twenty minutes, was growing concerned about how long it was taking you to get around. He knocked on the door, calling out to you and asking if everything was alright. You responded, saying everything was ok, but he could hear the distress and shakiness in your voice as you spoke. Of course, he could. He thought about his options for a second before announcing that he was coming into the room. You didn’t want him to but there was no way to keep him out. You knew that.

“What’s wrong, my love? Do you not like the outfit?” He knew it wasn’t that, but he’d rather you tell him what was really wrong rather than him having to figure it out himself. “I can take it back if it’s not to your liking.” You’d have to choose between acting as if you hated the outfit he’d gifted you or telling him about your self-harming. You hated sounding ungrateful, especially when Hannibal was always so gracious. You had to tell him.

And when you did, he goes quiet for a moment. He’d known something was wrong but he certainly hadn’t been expecting that. He hadn’t noticed. How hadn’t he noticed? He’s panicking internally but refuses to let it show at the moment. For the first time in a very, very long time, he’s feeling fear, sadness, confusion, and anger toward himself.

He’ll do whatever is needed to make you feel comfortable. If you want to cover them, he’ll figure it out. If you don’t want to, he’s more than supportive and will shut down anyone who would dare say something about them.

Once dinner is done and the guests have left, he’ll question you. In that moment, you don’t have Hannibal, you have Dr. Lecter. He will want to know how long you’ve been struggling with mental health, how long you’ve been self-harming, what triggers you, how can he help, etc.

He’ll pay close attention to you after he knows. You and sharp objects, that is. He won’t lock away knives or anything of that sort. He knows that will only make you feel worse, but he’ll make sure to remember exactly where sharp objects are and how they’re positioned. He’s going to know if you do it again. Once he knows, it’s impossible to hide it. Point blank. Still, he’ll be gentle about it. He doesn’t think you’re wrong or damaged; he just thinks you need a bit of structure and help.

Rest assured, you’ll get the best care with Hannibal. He’s a psychiatrist after all, and one of the best at that. However, he might use this as a way to subtly manipulate you into sharing his… unique food tastes. After all, why harm yourself when you can take all of your emotions out on others?

Rusty Nail

Rusty is gone A LOT, that’s no secret. But, that means you’re left with a lot of time to think, and thinking leads you to, well, the predicament you’re in now. You didn’t think he was supposed to be home for another day or two, but he’s early. He’s early and your arm is leaking fresh blood. If that wasn’t bad enough, you also hadn’t heard him (you were too wrapped up in your thoughts) until he was opening the bedroom door.

“Darlin’?” He’s walking towards you slowly, like you’re an animal that could lash out if he moves too quickly. Gently, he takes your hands and holds up your arms to give himself a better view. He wipes his thumb across a drop of blood to convince himself that this is real, and not a sort of twisted hallucination. “Darlin’.” He says it softly, this time.

He’s incredibly gentle as he guides you to the bathroom to tend to your wounds, quiet too. You’re sat on the side of the tub and he’s kneeling before you. As he finishes, he lets out a deep sigh, looking up at you before circling his arms around your waist and burring his face into your stomach. His hold is tight, and this lasts for quite a while.

When Rusty gathers himself enough to look at you again, he’ll pick you up and carry you to bed. You don’t feel like arguing. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know he was right, you were tired and you weren’t going to fight him on it. Even if you wanted to, the shattered look in his eyes acted as a foolproof deterrent.

As you nap, he cooks a meal for you. He wakes you up after a while to eat and draws you a bath after you’re done. He doesn’t say much. He doesn’t know what to say. For every moment he can, he’s going to take care of you like your royalty. Gradually, as the tension loosens, he’ll talk more and so will you but there is still a heavy sadness and tension in the air around him.

He’ll ask you quietly in the morning, as you two laze in bed, why you do it. Whether or not you tell him, he respects your choice. If you do tell him, he’ll want to talk through the issue. If it’s a person, he’s already thinking up ways to draw as much suffering from him as possible. If you don’t want to tell him, that’s ok. He’ll hold you close and whisper things about how much he loves you and what he would do to prove it.

When he’s on the road, he’ll call you every afternoon. Talk to him about anything, he just wants to hear you speak and get insight on your day. He wants to make sure you’re ok, as well.

He’d take you for a drive if you wanted. He absolutely loves having you in his passenger seat, riding alongside him in his rig. It makes him feel happy and possessive. One night, when he’s not on the road, he’d stock his truck with snacks, drinks, and blankets. He’d drive you out a field and stargaze with you late into the night, possibly until you fell asleep. If that happened, he’d carry you back into the truck so he could drive home.

Michael Myers

Micheal knew something had been off for a while, but assumed you’d come to him when you were ready to share. He’d grown impatient though, and decided to watch you while you thought he was away, to see if he could figure out what was wrong.

He’d caught you in the act and was shocked. Well, he felt as much shock as he was capable of feeling, which is far more than he is used to but not like a person might normally. Still, the pang of emotion was something he didn’t feel often. He’d suspected something was up but he hadn’t suspected this. Not in the slightest.

Of course, he’d seen people self-harm before. He had his time in the hospital to thank for that. He remembered how the doctors would react. Restraints, heavy surveillance, taking away anything even slightly dangerous, frequent and consistent check-ins, and medication, loads of medications. He also remembered how much the patients hated it. He had a few hours before you expected him home, which meant he had a few hours to think.

When Michael came home, you greeted him as you always did. You were cheery and excitable. It put a weird taste in his mouth and a feeling like an itch he couldn’t scratch. It didn’t sit right with him and made him very unhappy.

He was still for a moment longer than normal, catching your attention and causing you to ask if something was wrong. He responds by pointing to your arm, confusing you. He grabs your wrist and pulls up one of your sleeves, and you freeze, looking at him in the eye holes of his mask in shock.

Michael would give you the materials needed to take care of your wounds and watch as you patch yourself up. He’d teach you if you didn’t know how. After, he’d lay on the couch with you and watch movies until you fell asleep. Only after you’re asleep would he leave a kiss on each arm. A promise to you and himself that he’d do what he needed to make you happy.

Michael will be around more after he finds out. Not in an overbearing way, but he realized that he doesn’t spend as much time as he should with you. He’ll bring home little gifts that he thinks you’ll like and will make you masks that he thinks fit your personality. You might even sucker him into cleaning the house or cooking from time to time.

Bo Sinclair

It was WAY too hot for long sleeves in Louisiana. It was the middle of summer, and mid-day at that. Bo thought you’d knock more than a few screws loose to be dressed for late fall at this time of year. And to be outside on top of that?

Bo had asked you to come to the church to help with some minor repairs, and you’d been more than happy to come along. Problem was, you’d had a relapse the night before and your arms were covered in fresh wounds. You were practically dying in the summer heat, but you’d risk the heatstroke to avoid Bo finding out.

“What’re you doin’ with them sleeves? You look like you’re fixin’ to go out in winter, not the Louisiana summer.” You hadn’t really thought of a cover story, which was coming back to bite you in the ass. You’d decided to say you just weren’t feeling too great, causing Bo to look back at you.

“What’s wrong sugar?” You’d responded and said you felt cold and you were tired, and you could tell he wasn’t sure if he really believed you. He put a hand on your forehead as you looked up at him. “Well, you’re burnin’ up but that’s probably because of them sleeves. Why don’t ya take it off? Certainly wouldn’t mind the view to give me a lil’ work encouragement.”

You turned him down and suggested that you’d go get some lemonade, to which he agreed was a good idea and wanted to join you. He was at a good stopping place anyway. While you were washing up to serve the lemonade, you’d had to push up your sleeves a bit to avoid getting them wet. You hadn’t accounted for Bo coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you.

He was about to say something when he saw them. When you felt him tense up, you tensed up too. You froze and waited for him to say something, to do anything that gave you an indication of how to respond. After a few seconds, he took his arms away from your waist and grabbed your shoulders gently, turning you around to face him.

“You know… I’ve got some scars too…” It was the first time you’d seen the scars on his wrist. It was the only thing he could think to do in the moment. You started fretting over him, asking what happened, if he was alright, who did this, and other things along that line in a continuous stream of worry. He had to interrupt you and raise his voice to get you to quiet down. He agreed that he would tell you what happened if you told him why you’d harmed yourself.

In the end, you both wound up having an hours-long conversation about both of your histories and troubles. You both talked until you passed out, holding each other close and feeling leagues closer to him than you had before. It was a rare, bittersweet moment to bond and it would result in a permanent, noticeable shift in the interactions between you two.

After the conversation, you two held each other closer. You were softer when speaking to each other, and arguments often got resolved much quicker and with fewer tears than there used to be. You both understood each other more than anyone else had, and it shows.

Bo would do the best he could to make you feel comfortable showing your arms, no matter what stage of healing they were in. Bo would even show his scars more if it helped, granted that there was no chance of visitors. If tourists said anything about it, they wouldn’t get to be a sculpture. Vincent wouldn’t be able to reconstruct them well enough if he tried. No, they’d wind up in the pit with Lester’s roadkill.

Bo would kiss your scars in intimate moments if you’d let him. It’s his way of showing that he loves every part of you, regardless of how much you like it yourself.

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differentlovelover · 10 months

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I would never hurt you

Hannigram x reader

A/n:I'm finishing up this show and I just adore these two characters alot- I mean who doesn't love them?!!!

Prompt- reader got a glimpse of Hannibal's actual meat he cooks. Will and Hannibal having to calm her down easing her mind.

Cw: mentions of frozen body part,cussing, breakdowns,passing out

You find yourself wondering how you really got into this situation. You Hannibal and will are now living together and now you three are in a polyamorous relationship as well. Well for starters you and will met from the murder of your ex boyfriend, you soon grew a interest in him only because of his psychic powers you called it at first but he was more then that. Soon he asked you if you needed therapy for the trauma and that's how you met Hannibal! The rest is History really. But today was the day your realized...do I actually know my lovers?

You found yourself mopping then you got to the door. The door Hannibal told you don't worry about nor touch because it's his private room. You looked around then at the door as you reached in the lamp next to it and get the key out then opens the door. You walk in to look around as you see a freezer and some cutting instruments too. You walk over as you look at it carefully then at the freezer as you open it and pick up the packet. You stare at it in fear as you drop it and back up fast to run out only to run into Hannibal's chest face first "what are you doing in here Y/n?" His calm face stayed put but his eyes glimpse of anger. You look up at him as you shake your head panicking as you run past him and out the room.

"y/n let's talk about this darling what did you see?" Hannibal followed after you. You shakily go into the study "w-will w-we need to go! Please I'm begging you!" You cry to him as you grab his hand. He narrows his eyebrows "what? What happened" he stands "h-he has h-he has a heart-" you blinked as you look behind you to see him. Will sighs "y/n..hey hey" he pulls you into his arms caressing your head. Hannibal looked at will then at you as he observed. "I know your scared y/n..but why would he hurt you after all this time?" Will raised his eyebrow. You look at him as you mumble "w-what?" "I mean come on" he sighs gently wiping your tears "he would of been killed you." "W-will I dont-' i- don't understand?" You shake your head. He mumbles "how about you rest and we will talk when your more calm" he nods at hannibal.

You turn as Hannibal grabs you and push a cloth over your face. You fight it until the sleep takes over you. Hannibal stares down at you as he sighs gently "to soon darling."Hannibal says as Will walks over and rubs your cheek gently. He picks up your legs as Hannibal lays you down in there shared bed. Hannibal looked over at you as you rested. Will mumbles "she will be okay. I'm sure she would understand..just like Abigail did" he watched you as you layed there. Hannibal nods gently looking down at you as he rubs your cheek.

"I would never hurt you."

#hannigram #hannigram x reader #hannibal #hannibal lecter #will graham #will graham x reader #poly hannigram #yandere will graham #slasher x reader #yandere will graham x reader #nbc hannibal #hannibal netflix #hannibal nbc #murder husbands #save hannibal

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hannibals-hoe · 6 months

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FR 😭🤨💪💪💪

#hannibal #hannibal memes #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannigram #nbc hannibal #netflix hannibal #will x hannibal #doctor lecter #hannibal meme #hannibal fanfiction #Hannibal joke

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hannibals-dawg · 2 months

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Hannibal x will puppy play concept

Lots of people that have dogs don’t let them in the kitchen (in my experience) for a number of reasons! they think it’s unsanitary, they don’t wanna trip up on the dog or they don’t want to encourage begging behaviour.

I think Hannibal would be one of these people, making sure his puppy knows when he’s on all fours he’s not to go into the kitchen.

This leads to will(who i feel would be very clingy in puppy space for various reasons) regularly loitering outside the kitchen, sulking and grumbling to himself. Every now and again he’ll test the limits and put one of his dirty paws over the threshold only to have Hannibal give him a stern “no” or “ will, don’t make me put you in your crate”

I just like the idea of will sulking and giving puppy eyes at the doorway to Hannibal while he cooks just for the man to chuckle at him and softly tease him

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannigram #netflix hannibal #hannibal the cannibal #will graham #puppyboy #pet pl4y

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nooowestayandgetcaught · 2 years

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The Death Of Someone Else

read on AO3

~1k, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, No Rating

Summary: The simplicity of life is that everything ends.

#hannibal #hannigram #will graham #hannibal lecter #nbc hannibal #hannibal nbc #hannibal netflix #netflix hannibal #will x hannibal #hannibal x will #hannigram fanfiction #hannigram fic #hannibal fandom #hannibal fanfiction

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hannibal-is-my-comfort-show · 7 months

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Cause of death? This post right here:

#im not crying you are #*wails*#😭😭😭#will never recover from this #if we dont get a season 4 im going to scream #hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal nbc #netflix #hannibal netflix #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannigram #murder husbands #renew hannibal #revive hannibal

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sillyfbiman · 29 days

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#hannibal #hannibal nbc #hannibal netflix #nbc hannibal #dogs #dogs of tumblr #dogs of the internet #pets #hugh dancy #will sillies #will graham #will graham fictionkin #fictionkin #willposting

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storiesforallfandoms · 8 months

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sob story ~ hannibal lecter;hannibal

word count: 2292

request?: no

description: in which he takes a liking to one of the new agents, and gets to learn her sad story

pairing: hannibal lecter x female!reader

warnings: swearing, the reader eats food made by hannibal...we all know what that means, mentions of cheating

masterlist (one, two, three)

(Y/N) looked up from her paperwork as a plastic Tupperware container was placed in front of her. Hannibal stood over her, smiling down at her.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Leftovers from the meal I prepared last night,” he said. “Agent Crawford asked to see me today, so I thought I would drop by your desk to bring you something to eat.”

(Y/N) smiled at him. “You brought this just for me? I must be pretty special.”

But she already knew the answer to that. Hannibal had taken quite the liking to (Y/N) since he first met her only a few weeks ago. She had no idea what it was that drew him to her, and truthfully, neither did Hannibal. She was just a desk agent, not a field agent. She didn’t get to do any of the exciting or impressive stuff. She sat in the FBI offices and waited for paperwork to come in, or brought files to the higher ups, or went to boring meetings that felt like they went on for hours.

That’s how the two of them met, actually. Jack Crawford had asked for a file on a suspect they were looking into for a case. When (Y/N) brought it in to them, Hannibal found himself captivated by her. He introduced himself, taking note of the sweet scent of the perfume she was wearing. When they shook hands, he was almost reluctant to let her go, but he knew he had to let her get back to her job. But ever since that day, whenever Hannibal was at the FBI offices, he made sure he went to speak with (Y/N) even for just a few moments.

Hannibal pulled up a chair next to her desk as (Y/N) opened the plastic container.

“God, it smells so good,” she said. “You have to teach me how to cook sometime. I’m always hearing about your popular dinner parties.”

“I’ve never taught anyone my recipes before. I’m usually a solo cooker.”

“Fine then. Keep your secrets.”

Hannibal chuckled. (Y/N) took a forkful of the food. The minute it touched her tastebuds she couldn’t help the sound that came from her throat. Nearby agents at their own desks looked over at the two of them. (Y/N) covered her face in embarrassment. “I should’ve waited till my break.”

They fell into silence as (Y/N) continued to eat. Hannibal watched her as she would take a bite and continue to work on her paperwork as she chewed. She was wearing a new perfume. It had a more prominent vanilla scent instead of a fruity scent like her last one. She always looked beautiful, but Hannibal found she looked especially so when she was focused on her work. It was when she seemed to be at her most vulnerable, when she wasn’t putting on an act for those around her, that he found she was the most beautiful.

Her phone was placed face up on the desk next to her. It lit up as a message came in. (Y/N) looked over at her phone for a moment before making a face and flipping the phone so the screen was face down on her desk. She turned back to the paperwork in front of her, but Hannibal could tell she wasn’t actually focusing on it.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

It took (Y/N) a moment to realize Hannibal had spoken. She looked up at him and halfheartedly smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure? It seems like whatever message you just received wasn’t a good one.”

“Don’t therapist me, Lecter,” (Y/N) said, playfully, as she pointed her fork at him. “It was jut an old friend that I asked not to message me anymore, but they seem very persistent on going against what I want.”

“The friendship didn’t end well, I’d assume.”

(Y/N) shook her head but didn’t elaborate further. She stabbed at the food and pushed it around the container. Hannibal didn’t want to pry. It was his job to get people to tell him their problems, so he could’ve easily gotten (Y/N) to talk if he wanted to. But he decided not to, and that (Y/N) would tell him what was going on if she wanted to.

His ears perked up when she sighed and put the fork down again. “It’s a long story, and I don’t want to bother you with my sob story.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow at her. “My job is listening to other people’s sob stories.”

She chuckled. “Fair point, but I’m not one of your clients.”

“You’re my friend, and it is to my understanding that friends talk to friends about things that are bothering them.”

(Y/N) nodded and sighed again. “Okay, well...the person who is messaging me stopped being my friend because my ex-boyfriend told her and all our other friends that I was crazy and a shitty girlfriend, so they all stopped being friends with me.”

Hannibal didn’t say anything. He gestured for her to continue, so she did.

“I was in a relationship for a long time,” she explained. “Like four or five years I think? It was a while ago so I don’t completely remember. Anyways, we were living together, we were so in love, we were talking about getting engaged and everything. And then, one night, he had left his phone open and I glanced down to see a text from another woman saying she was excited to see him, followed by a picture of her in lingerie.” She took a deep breath to try and stop the tears that were forming in her eyes from falling. “Turns out he had been cheating on me for months. Almost a year, actually.”

Hannibal’s hands clenched in his lap. Anger rose from deep inside of him. He was tempted to ask for her ex’s name so he could track the bastard down. How could someone have such a beautiful woman’s heart in his hand and completely crush it like that? He could’ve put a ring on her finger and gotten to call her his for the rest of their lives.

Maybe I shall invite her over for dinner soon, Hannibal thought to himself.

“How did that result in your friends no longer speaking to you?” he asked instead. “I’m not sure I see how he flipped this to be in his favor.”

(Y/N) laughed, humorlessly. “Never underestimate the power a man has over a woman he’s already hurt. Obviously, I was upset, so I acted kind of irrationally. I yelled, I cried, I screamed at him to leave the house, and when he refused, I started throwing his stuff out onto the front step. He told our friends I went through his phone and misinterpreted a message between him and ‘a coworker’. He told them I was crazy and went extra hysterical over nothing. I didn’t know until after, but he took a video of me throwing his stuff out, so he showed them that as proof. So, they all turned their backs on me.”

(Y/N) wiped her eyes quickly when she felt a tear run down her cheek. She let out a pitiful laugh and added, “And the icing on top is then he kicked me out. He put his name only on the lease, so there was no chance of fighting for the place. So, I was single, alone, and homeless in one fell swoop. He quite literally took everything from me.”

She looked down at her lap to try and hide her tears from anyone around them. There was no use pretending in front of Hannibal now. He had seen her break, but she didn’t want her coworkers to see it as well.

It had been many years since what happened with her ex. (Y/N) had gone through years of therapy to try and move on, and was still actively going when she had the time. There were days when she felt like she had moved on, and there were other days where all she could think about was the absolute heartbreak she felt when she saw those messages on her ex’s phone. She would sometimes see something that would remind her of their old friend group, and she’d remember how none of them spoke to her anymore. At first, she was sad about that, but after a while she got angry. She had tried to tell one of them, the one who was messaging her again now actually, that her ex cheated, but none of them would hear it. They just thought it proved even more that she was “the crazy ex-girlfriend”. She was angry that none of them would even listen to her, so it made it easier to get over them cutting her out.

Until a few days ago when that same ex-friend messaged (Y/N) asking if they could talk. When (Y/N) left the message on read, the friend tried again, explaining that her ex had finally come clean that he had cheated on (Y/N) after getting a little too drunk and someone asking him how he and his fiancée - the woman he cheated on (Y/N) with (that was a stab in the heart to read) - met. The friend begged for forgiveness and asked if they could talk, but (Y/N) told her that she didn’t want to be friends with any of them and not to contact her ever again.

It brought up so many old wounds - ones that were both partially and entirely healed. (Y/N) felt like she was back to those days of being a sad, young adult who was kicked out of her home, her relationship, and her friendships, all because of the actions of a dickhead like her ex. She had been trying to mask her upset while at work, but some days it was tougher than others.

But seeing Hannibal made it easier to forget.

She had really hoped that his surprise visit would bring her out of her mood. It almost had, if it wasn’t for that ex-friend messaging her yet again to try and beg for forgiveness.

(Y/N) jumped when Hannibal reached out for her hand. He took it in his and held it tightly. When she looked up, she realized how close he was leaning towards her.

“You should not let a man like that ruin you,” he told her. “You are a bright, beautiful woman, with a great job and I am assuming a fantastic family and new friends. He lost something great when he chose that other woman over you, and one of these days he will pay for making that decision.”

(Y/N) tried to smile. “I didn’t think someone like you would believe in karma.”

Not unless I’m the one inflicting it. “I can on occasions.”

She looked down at their connected hands. His was so much bigger than hers, so much cooler against her clammy skin. She suddenly felt self-conscious about the fact that her palm was so sweaty. She hoped he couldn’t feel it against his own palm.

“It’s not easy to just let go of a five year relationship that ends so suddenly like that,” she said, her voice small. “I haven’t dated anyone since because it’s just too hard to trust.”

“You must take things at your own pace,” Hannibal told her. “You can’t rush yourself into a new relationship if you’re not ready. There is nothing wrong with taking care of yourself first.”

When she looked up at him again, (Y/N) felt compelled to close the distance between herself and Hannibal. She wanted to kiss him more than anything. She wanted to feel more of him against her - his lips against hers, his hands on her body, his body against hers. She wanted to feel it all. But obviously, that would be a very inappropriate thing to happen in the workplace. Not to mention she wasn’t sure if Hannibal would really reciprocate to any of the things she wanted.

“Thank you,” she said, finally.

“It’s just the therapist in me.”

When she laughed this time, it was real. His heart fluttered at the sound. “I know, but it still means a lot. The fact that you come see me so often, that you brought me food today. It all means a lot to me. More than I think you could ever know.”

She didn’t want to let go of his hand, but she knew she couldn’t sit there like that all day. She was already well aware of how everyone was looking at them. She was sure she’d be mentioned at the coffee machine gossip session the next morning. So, (Y/N) reluctantly took her hand from Hannibal’s and reached for her pen instead.

“I really should try to finish this before Jack comes looking for it,” she said.

“Do you mind if I stay?” Hannibal asked.

“You don’t have anything else going on today?”

“Not until you’re finished.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “What are we doing when I finish my work?”

“I’m going to teach you how to cook.”

Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. Hannibal couldn’t help but smile back at her.

And so they did sit like that for the rest of the day; (Y/N) working and eating while Hannibal just kept her company. The conversation had died down a bit so she could actually work, but that only aided her in finishing her paperwork early and being allowed to clock out an hour earlier, too. She happily pulled on her coat and followed Hannibal to the elevator, where he reached out and took her hand again as the doors closed.

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