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chuuulip · 4 years

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The First Kiss of Love

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female Reader

Warning: Fluff with a smidges of angst

Words: 3262

Prompt: hey i was wondering id you could do a hannibal lecter one where the reader doesnt realize that hannibal likes her and she gets jealous when hes talking to another woman. when she calls him out on it he cant help but laugh. the reader is basically a oblivious dummy type and way too much of a klutz .

Summary: “Dr. Bloom is really beautiful.” your small, joyless voice continues its sentence. “Ah...yes indeed.” Hannibal replies casually.

A.N: This is for an anon that request some Hannibal fanfic. I’m sorry that it takes me so long xD I hope you like it! whoever you are ❤️ Thank you for @jewels2876 for helping me with this piece, love you ❤️ Also tagging fellow Hannibal fans 😉 @venusdemonroe and @detectivehannibal thanks for feeding me Hannibal content and discuss him with me ❤️

It’s been a couple of months since you’ve worked with Dr. Lecter. You were once a librarian; due to an accident, you lost your job as a consequence of a long time recovery. Hannibal Lecter literally was an angel or your angel to be precise. Vividly, you remember the time you met him. By chance, Hannibal is in the clinic when you do your physiotherapy. He catches a small stack of books that you buy that day. He manages to balance the books in his left hand while his right-hand catches you before your face kisses the floor.

Long story short, both of you have some sort of conversation that leads to you applying for a job to be Hannibal’s secretary. You are excited but also nervous when you do your interview. You have no idea that Hannibal is a well-known psychiatrist not only just in Baltimore but also in Maryland. There is a fear that Hannibal will not choose you because of your clumsy tendencies. You are naturally what people will call a klutz. Physical activity somewhat hinders your ability to shine among others. You are either too slow or too weak. Not to mention lucky stars seem to distance themself from you. But not that day, the day when you get an email of your employment. Hannibal is pretty impressed with your CV and how good your skills on scheduling and data management,

“Good morning.” the soft, accented voice of Hannibal greets you. Today, he wears a dark blue windowpane pattern jacket suit. He chooses a somewhat dark metallic floral pattern adorning the red-brown tie. His white buttoned-up shirt makes the color of his suit and ties pop. Hannibal always dresses elegantly, something that you always look forward to seeing.

“Good morning, Dr. Lecter.” You stand up and follow Hannibal inside his office. He takes a seat on his brown leather chair. Everything looks immaculate as always.

“Schedule for today?” he unbuttons his suit jacket and you quickly help him hang the suit. “Thank you, my dear, you didn’t need to do that.”

“It’s alright Dr. Lecter.”

Sometimes when it’s only you and Hannibal in the office, he accidentally calls you my dear. You aren’t sure if it's because that’s the way he usually addresses someone he is in contact on a daily basis, or it means something more? Oh, you wish.

“Dr. Lecter…, for this morning you will have two appointments. Mrs. Potter and Ms. Randall. Also-- Mr. Franklin said he might need to reschedule.” Your slightly breathy voice points out other appointments Hannibal has outside the office. Your work had become kind of a blend between his secretary and personal assistant, to be honest. It was actually Hannibal's idea to engage you more into work that’s not strictly his office related. Not that you are complaining because it let you take a peek on Hannibal’s other persona. Not to mention that the payment is pretty generous.

Not once does Hannibal ask your input on what type of thing should be added in his office, and by that, you are pretty proud of yourself. Not a lot of people give any thought about your opinion. Although Hannibal, like when his office has this sleek look and somewhat minimalist style, he always mixes something that you could say was classic inside his office. You have been inside his office quite a lot, but sometimes you help him tidy up his books and document. He’s somewhat more of a hard copy type of person than a soft copy one. Like you. You like the smells of an old book although some of Hannibal’s books smell too clinical for you. Like the smells of a hospital or a place with a lot of disinfectants.

Pretty proud of your experience as a librarian in the past, and knowing Hannibal is a perfectionist himself, you practically turned the side of his office into a perfect mini library. The medical record shorts are alphabetically arranged while his other books are listed by genre, then in an alphabetical manner as well. When Hannibal stays longer in the office, sometimes you catch him drawing. A hobby that he said he has since childhood. One day he told you, “Growing up, I found my hobby really useful when I decided to be a medical doctor.” and you can’t help but agree. After he finishes with what he sketches at that time, he specifically calls you into his office and shows you the final product. That action simply makes your heart flutter in excitement.

“Thank you, you can leave for now.” He gives you his subtle yet beautiful smile. Those eyes of his when he smiles always send some sort of quick rush to your brain.

Giving Hannibal a short nod, you quickly excuse yourself. You stumble upon your own shoe and almost fall, face first. Luckily you can prevent that from happening, hoping Hannibal doesn’t notice, although you think he did. Scurrying from his office, you station yourself on your spot. Continue typing and archiving what Hannibal asks you.

Sipping your now cold latte, your eyes shift to the books next to your PC. It’s a book called Les Fleurs du mal renaissance, a volume about French poetry that Hannibal had lent you after you finish some short of psychology 101. You have read a few pages of it, and since it’s in French, it takes you some time to understand it.

Sometimes Hannibal invites you to his office to let you read his book while he draws things. Trying not to get caught red-handed, you glance at him from the corner of your eyes, savoring the scene in front of you. Wondering what Hannibal actually does on his day off, is there anything he can’t do? Your brain likes to take a detour on what Hannibal does at home when he’s not seeing other people’s minds.

A soft clink of steps on the mahogany floor wood, momentary pauses your fingers on the keyboard.

“Good morning Mrs. Potter.” you stand up immediately. Greet her with a polite, shy smile. One of the things you are still learning from working with Hannibal is being confident. Since the secretary is usually portrayed as bold and beautiful, while you on the other hand are quite the opposite, Hannibal makes sure you take your time to adapt from ‘less contact with people at work’ to ‘in contact with different people almost every day.’

“I’m here for my appointment.” her British accent tickles your ear. It’s rare for you to meet a Brit, especially as posh as Mrs. Potter. Although you never glance at a patient’s medical record, you do actually google them. When you find out Hannibal’s reputation, you know that most of his patients are a somewhat well-known person. Mrs. Potter is an owner of exquisite but limited jewelry store on the east coast. From several articles that you read, she has had quite a lot of scandal. Despite that, you will not deny her beauty. She may be quite older than you, but the way her cheekbones stay supple and very few wrinkles decorating her face sometimes makes you jealous.

“Yes, sure. Please wait a moment,” immediately, you walk to Hannibal's office door that's just a foot away from your desk. Giving a soft knock, you open the door and inform Hannibal that Mrs. Potter is already here. He gives you a quick nod, and you open the door wider, to let Mrs. Potter start her session.

Hannibal isn’t a strict boss. Or that’s actually what you thought about him. Of course, you are a professional employee as you can be, but sometimes you spend time reading the book you borrow from Hannibal between your desk job. Mostly because you already do whatever Hannibal tasks you with. On some occasions, you join Hannibal when he attends some appointments, such as when he needs to be a keynote speaker in a well-known conference around Maryland and DC. An experience that you guess is his way to widen your social ability.

“Thank you Mrs. Potter. I’ll see you in the next session.” Hannibal’s accent cues you to stand up and bid your goodbye to Mrs. Potter. The rest of the day comes out like it usually is. Typing and arranging schedules for Hannibal while also scrolling on another book to read. Even though you were a librarian before, there’s just so many books and so little time to read.

When it’s time for you to go home, you knock on Hannibal’s office door and open it slightly when he answers you with a soft, “come on in”. You excuse yourself while also giving Hannibal’s friend a smile. Although Hannibal doesn’t have a lot of appointments today, his friend, Jack Crawford visits the office and you know that means Hannibal will stay late until dinner time.

***

The next day your work finished earlier than you thought so you spend some time at work to continue reading the poetry book. Some people may find it weird that you like to stay a little bit longer at work than going back home. There’s always this thought of knowing there is someone close to you, without the need to do conversations in every millisecond, calming. When your eyes shift to your gold bronze table clock, you haven’t realized that you are pretty late, as the sky already turns dark.

You know Hannibal is still in the office and you plan to excuse yourself before it’s getting really late. You don’t want Hannibal to drive you back home since you feel embarrassed about it. He always makes sure you arrive at home safely when you spend more time at the office or going home pretty late since Baltimore isn’t the safest place on earth. However, there is always a thought in your head that Hannibal being a little bit protective towards you, his employee because you are just a much of a klutz and he feels responsible.

You aren’t sure what possessed you to move too quickly and it just messes up your footing. The point of your left oxford shoes hit the castor office chair. Ungracefully you trip to the floor and bring the chair with you. The falling chair let out a loud bang while you landed on your hands and knees, grimacing in pain.

You aren’t sure when but your brain kind of mid freeze for a second. When you look up, you see Hannibal crouching down and calling your name, worried, “-- are you ok? Can you stand up?”

“I--I’m ok Dr. Lecter,” you try to stand up but you hold up your right hand in a sign of I need a minute.

Hannibal takes care of the office chair first, putting it back in its original position. He carefully lifts you up, supporting you and letting you sit back on your office chair. “I’m sorry my dear, but I need to check?” He asks you for your permission and you quickly give him your approval. With an expert examination of his hands, Hannibal checks your knees for any swelling or visual deformity. Since your past accident, you are prone to any joint and soreness on the knees. Delicately, he gives a little pat on both your knees. “I think everything is ok, you may need to have some pain killers.”

“Thank you Hannibal.” you blurt it out. Sometimes you call him by his first name when you aren’t in office hours, although rarely.

He graces you with that smile of his, subtle yet it always makes your heart quiver, the kind of smile you infrequently see. You notice that sometimes he has his professional smile, it is short and kind of cold. The smile you always notice when he meets his colleague. You don’t know a lot of Hannibal’s friends, but when he has some impromptu meeting with Jack, you slightly witness more smirk and sometimes there’s this naughty element like he is planning something evil, although humorously.

“Wait a minute, I will drive you home.” Hannibal left you to go inside his office.

There’s a guilt in your stomach that you feel you are being a burden to your boss. When your concentration dispersed like vivid smoke, the corner of your eyes caught the beautiful woman you have seen a couple of times visiting the office. Unlike other women who mostly visit Hannibal for a session, this woman is indeed different.

“Ms. Bloom.” You greet her. Your smile may look blankly courteous even, but you definitely are not in the mood to give her your big smile this evening.

“You look unwell, are you ok?”

“I-- I’m ok.” you try to answer her, less tense.

“Alana?” your eyes shift to Hannibal as he opens his door.

“Hey, Hannibal. I try to call you but I thought I might as well just drop by.”

Hannibal’s eyes divert from you to Alana, and he gives Alana a quick nod, letting her quickly enter the office. “It will be quick. Can you wait for a while?” you give him a nod and smile at him nervously.

At first you aren’t sure why you are nervous but something finally clear on your head. Maybe you are jealous. You know a lot of women near Hannibal are not only beautiful, or rich, they are also acutely intelligent. Although you aren’t rich, you aren’t that bad looking and you will not say you aren’t intelligent but when you compare yourself to someone like Alana, there will always be inferiority engraved in your mind. Not to mention that she has known Hannibal longer and better than you.

Hannibal's office door opens and Alana exits the door with Hannibal following her. “I heard what happened to you from Hannibal.” Alana stops in front of your desk and gives you her sympathetic smile. “Get well soon.” She gives you a pat on your shoulder and says her goodbye to you and Hannibal.

“Shall we?” Hannibal changes his focus towards you and you nod in agreement. Let him help you out of the office.

***

“So…,”

“So?” Hannibal glances at you momentarily while driving, asking you to continue what you have in mind.

“Dr. Bloom is really beautiful.” your small, joyless voice continues its sentence.

“Ah...yes indeed,” Hannibal replies casually.

Your eyes glance at the dark street. Hannibal’s office is located in a quite busy place and it’s nice to see less traffic when you get out of the area.

“Did both of you date?” you blurt it out. Your eyes widen in horrors as you blatantly just spill out something unprofessional. “Hanni-- Dr. Lecter, I-- I-- didn’t mean to pry on your personal life.”

Hannibal looks at you and lets out a laugh. Something really rare, something that you even have witnessed. The crinkle on his eyes when he laughs lets his somewhat cool and calm demeanor melted. It takes you sometimes to register on what just happens.

“I’m sorry my dear, that’s just quite funny.” Hannibal stops laughing and sends you a quick smile.

“Also that might not answer your question but the answer is no, Alana and I, we aren’t dating. I’m her mentor and our relationship is more of colleagues and friends.”

You aren’t sure why you hold your breath, but after listening to Hannibal's answer, you let out a long exhale, feeling that something heavy has been lifted up from your shoulders.

Hannibal’s Bentley stops in front of your apartment complex. Ever the gentleman that he is, Hannibal asks you if you need help. You decline his help as if you can’t embarrass yourself enough in one day.

“Before you go, I have something to tell you.” Like a deer caught in a headlight, you look at Hannibal. He switches on the light inside the car and pulls his bag from the backseat. He handed you several papers that looked likely to be a job application. Your eyes widen, vision blurry as a sudden tears drop from your eyes. This is it, maybe Hannibal has enough of your clumsiness. He doesn’t find you worthy as he sometimes needs to ‘babysit you’ when you do something you don’t intend to do.

Feeling that he may be approaching this the wrong way, Hannibal tries to comfort you. You put both of your hands in front of your chest, like a shield in a defensive manner. Try to accommodate his tall frame, awkwardly Hannibal turns his body to the passenger seat and embraces you. He shushing you and pat your heads

When your silent cry turns into a hiccup but more calmer, Hannibal pulls away from you. With a stutter, you explain to Hannibal that you understand if he doesn’t want you to work with him again and you are thankful that he’s been a very great employer to you.

“Hey,” Hannibal swipes the tears that rolls down on your cheeks with his thumbs, “--it’s not that. Look, my dear, the reason I handed this paper to you is not that I want to fire you, but I have been pretty impatient lately.”

You look at him, eyes full of question on what the fuck he means by that? Although you don’t let it out loud because you don’t want to make any rude comment. Because Hannibal doesn’t like that.

“I’m one of those people who do not agree with office romance.”

Office? Romance? What the hell? No one has any romance in the office, you thought.

“I have been pretty much intent to court you,” his eyes flicker to your lips and back to your reddish eyes. “Alana came today because she wants to give me the application personally, there’s a librarian vacancy in her University and I pretty much just want to hand it to you.” Your brain wiring, try to connect the words as if you forgot how to speak English.

“Apologize if I’m being rude my dear, but I have observed you for some time and I encourage myself to just lay it all here so I didn’t make you upset. Of course, if I am proven wrong, you can stay and still work as my secretary. No harm, the position will always be yours.”

“Hanni-- Hannibal, does this mean that you like ‘like’ me?”

He answers you with a quick nod and the smile that always makes your heart flutter. You try to reach Hannibal but your knee prevents you from doing such a thing. Hannibal let out a small chuckle as he finds your difficulty quite amusing.

You eye him in disbelief but your anger melts right away as his face gets closer to yours. His right hand's cup at the side of your face as his lips inches closer towards you. With eyes close, you feel the brushes of Hannibal’s lips. The kiss is soft and delicate as if he is just testing the water.

You let your hands sneak at the back of his collar as you seek more contact. Both of your lips slide and glide against each other. Letting out a whimper, you grant Hannibal’s tongue to slip past your lips. Teasing and flicking languidly, exploring something that makes you shudders in want.

After some time, Hannibal withdraws his lips from yours. Eyes fluttering open, you can see Hannibal’s pupils expand. He let his foreheads rest at yours while his hand still cups on your face. “So...I believe it is a 'yes''?” There's humor in his voice.

With a broad smile and less reddish eyes, you answer Hannibal with a confident nod and grant him another kiss on the lips.

As always, like, comment and reblog are really appreciated ❤️. Let me know what you think about this xo

#hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal imagine #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter request #mads mikkelsen #chuuulip post

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detectivehannibal · 2 years

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The Noise and the Silence

Hannibal Lecter x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Depression. Grief. Emotional distress. Angst.

A/N: After a long hiatus, I am back with Hannibal content. I’m trying something a little different. An angsty fic with no specific plot point so that *hopefully* it is a bit more applicable to the reader. I really would like some feedback to see how this was for you!

Word Count: 2.8k

“I feel confused....amongst other things.”

The pounding in your ears hadn’t stopped for weeks. The constant, repeated thud of your heartbeat playing in your head had been relentless. It was a loud drum, and if you sat unoccupied for too long, you would catch yourself beginning to count each thump. Oddly enough, there was another sound that seemed to be in competition with the steady booming of every rush of blood to your head.

It was the loudest of sounds, and a noise that you did not welcome with open arms. It was a silence so loud that it was close to painful. The ring of utter nothingness was beating away at your mind space to the point of near insanity. It seemed that had been your world for the last several weeks. It was either boisterous chatter, or complete emptiness.

To be honest, you weren’t quite sure which one you preferred.

Today was a silence day. The moment that your eyes had opened from your night of restless sleep, you knew what kind of day it was going to be. The silence days were different from the loud days. The silence days were slower, and they were much hazier than the loud. Silence days meant you were on constant autopilot. Everything that you did was purely muscle memory and basic functions that your brain had signaled every day of your entire life. There were no out of the ordinary or special tasks to switch up your day to day life. Silence days meant existing, but just barely.

The few words that you spoke on these kinds of days were hardly even comprehended by your own self, and what little conversation you were able to hold with others was forgotten just as quickly as it was had. It was lost to the fog that clouded your consciousness, and drowned by the sea of anguish that flooded your veins.

Loud days were different. Your awareness level was a tad clearer. There was some variety in these kinds of days. This meant getting up early and spending the entirety of the day running errands and completing a list of missions to check off your to do list. Loud days meant pushing yourself as far as your physical energy would allow. The “go go go” attitude kept you on your feet without rest. As long as you were busy and occupied, then it was a loud day. It usually ended with you crashing at the end of the day with hardly feeling accomplished in any way.

Your world had become so quiet, yet so roaring. Your life was categorized as feeling nothing and feeling everything -- and it was a lottery system as to which one you were going to get.

This wasn’t you.

You had become distant from yourself, you were a shell of yourself. The person that stood before your loved ones was merely an imposter. A stranger had infiltrated your body and was maneuvering it like a puppet. They had all reached out to you, offering their love and services to assist you in whatever you needed. Some of them had been shocked when you pushed them away, while others were unsurprised. You didn’t want the help. You refused it, in fact. So, there wasn’t much else they could do outside of leaving their offer on the table free for you to take.

Hannibal was the only one that you had welcomed to stay, but even then the invitation was hardly obvious. There was a battle between the noise and the silence, and you were caught in the middle of this tug-of-war. You had been drained of emotional and mental energy long ago. At this point, the opposing sides were fighting over a ghost of a human. Hannibal had watched you crumble and fall apart in the last several weeks. There was very little spirit and soul to be sought after at this point. At the end of the day, the winner would really have a whole bunch of nothing.

That was what Hannibal was most afraid of.

Hannibal wouldn’t admit it to anyone but himself, but he was worried. He was terrified that you were close to having nothing left to cling onto. He feared that you would have nothing to build yourself back up with. Once you were completely chipped away, there was no coming back -- and that would be the end.

Hannibal didn’t worry about much of anything. He was as cool, calm, and collected as a person could possibly be. It made sense considering the kinds of habits that he was into. If he were to get nervous or any kind of variation of it, then he would slip up....and slipping up meant getting caught.

But this was a different kind of situation. You were a part of his life that was disconnected from the more sinister parts. You were the light that shined over the darkness, so in a way, he felt like he had a right to be concerned. He knew that you needed time and space. He had given you as much of it as he possibly could’ve without seeming as if he wasn’t there for you.

In the beginning, he had been there for every initial breakdown, meltdown, and sob fest that you erupted into. Looking back on it, that had been the easy part. He had comforted you as a lover, and guided you through the emotional storm as a man of psychiatry. He stayed up many sleepless nights with you when you couldn’t settle down enough to fall asleep. He soothed every sense of panic and anxiety with ease.

He had not once taken the curt words and the lack of any kind of affection personally. The distraction of your heart was clear to him, and he knew that your reluctance to offer him any kind of attention was not intentional.

He wanted to do nothing more than support you through this process. He was there for you at every step of the initial impact, and after a while, he thought that you were getting better.

He observed you carefully, never once letting himself get too comfortable. The intense emotions ceased, and you began to somewhat return to a day-to-day routine. Suddenly, you weren’t reacting or talking about it at all. Your demeanor had completely shut off from the life that you had around you. It was as if your brain had stopped processing the incident completely.

And that was when he knew that you were actually getting worse.

Hannibal partially blamed himself for your deteriorating state. He was a licensed professional who dealt with this sort of mental fragility every single day. He knew the signs, and he could identify them in his sleep. He found himself wondering if there was something that he could’ve done differently. Was there something that he could’ve said that he didn’t already? Had he not utilized enough of his attentiveness and patience? All kinds of questions had crossed his mind, and none of them had been answered.

He knew that dwelling on what he could’ve done then would only get in the way of what he could do now. He had to do something now, or else he feared he’d lose you completely.

****

It was a bitterly cold February night in Baltimore, Maryland. It had been an abnormally frosty winter, which was alarming considering that the winters in Maryland were already very wintery. Despite the frigid temperature, it hadn’t deterred you from taking yourself to the back deck of your and Hannibal’s home to sit in the open air. The house had been your safe zone for all these weeks that had gone by, but now it was beginning to feel more like a nest of misery that you had created for yourself.

The porch was cold underneath you from where you sat on the top step. In all honesty, you had hardly even noticed it. A little chill wasn’t going to rattle you enough to matter.

Your attention was focused on the inky black canvas painted above you. It was dotted and speckled with glittery stars from one end of the horizon to the other. It was the clearest night that you could imagine. There wasn’t a single flaw or imperfection to taint the night sky that you were so infatuated with. In any other time or circumstance, you’d find joy in this scene in front of you.

But not now.

You weren’t sure what you were looking for in that black ocean rolling over you. There weren’t any answers to your questions bouncing around up there. In reality though, you really only had one real question. Over the course of your life, you felt as if you had never gotten a good answer to the age-old question of “why?”. It’s the simplest, yet most complex question in the universe of human language. It seemed rare that anyone ever had a satisfying answer for it.

You hadn’t gotten any real answers or resolutions yet, and tonight was proving to be no different. Just another silence day had come to a fateful end. Nothing had changed. Everything was the exact same.

You exhaled a long breath -- the kind that sank your shoulders to their lowest physical point. The rush of air that escaped from the depths of your lungs was transformed into a white condensed cloud that dispersed into the environment just as fast as it had formed. Sometimes you wished that would happen to you. Exist for a moment, and then vanish into nothing. Nothing lost, and nothing earned.

Your head lowered behind your knees that were bunched against your chest. Just your eyes and the top of your head were visible from the bundle of a shell that you had made for yourself. Your lashes fluttered each time you blinked, and every time that your vision returned upon reopening your eyes, you were met with the same starry sky.

There was a brief commotion from the door behind you that connected to the house. The sliding glass door rolled open, and a figure stepped out onto the porch before returning it shut. The footsteps of this person approached from behind, and they were familiar to your ears that were now cut with sound again. You knew those heavy, slow footfalls anywhere.

An immediate rush of warmth and security flooded your senses when a blanket was wrapped around you securely, covering any exposed skin on your body from the harsh wintery cold around you.

“Darling, it’s freezing tonight,” Hannibal remarked, his accent thick as he spoke. “I would hate for you to fall ill.”

An extra layer of warmth was added when Hannibal joined you in sitting on the top step. His body heat was much more than yours as his radiated to you through the thickness of the blanket. It was greatly appreciated, because you hadn’t realized how cold you had actually become.

“I’m okay.” You returned without offering any more of a ticket to a real conversation.

Hannibal didn’t mind the quiet. He had always said that a huge part of successful therapy is being able to sit in silence to allow a patient to sit with their feelings. Silence allowed time for self-reading and understanding, which Hannibal was all for. However, he didn’t like this silence. This silence wasn’t the good kind.

His feet were planted on the second step rather than the first. His lanky legs would be too crammed if they were bunched up at his own chest. His hands were clasped together in the open space between his knees, his forearms resting on his thighs as he scanned over the back of his estate.

The garden and backyard always looked so depressing during the winter months. In its own way, it was beautiful -- but he much preferred enjoying the grounds during the spring and summer. His vision didn’t remain on the landscape long, however. His sight eventually diverted to you, which was what he was more interested in.

He saw the way the stars twinkling above reflected off of the glassy sheen over your ears. Those very same stars above were the ones that he often described as being trapped behind your eyes with the way that they stunned him when he looked into them. It hurt his heart to know that it had been far too long since he had seen those dancing stars in your eyes. He missed that.

He missed you. He wanted you back.

“I’m aware that reminding you of this isn’t necessary....but wishing on a star won’t change what happened.” Hannibal’s words broke the still beats that had passed and disappeared into the past.

His voice wasn’t cruel or unsympathetic. Just the opposite actually. He knew where you were right now, and what you were feeling.

“I know.” You answered, the hurt dripping off of your words.

The desperation for relief to be delivered to your heart was unlike anything you had ever experienced in your life. It was a pressure in your chest that damn near made it impossible to focus or feel anything else. It was so beyond uncomfortable. It was inescapable no matter what you did to try to get away from it. It had seeped through you and over you to the point where you weren’t even sure who you were anymore.

How were you supposed to live like that?

“No one in your life, including myself, expects anything from you right now,” He went on once he got the sense that you were warming up to talking. “No one expects you to be okay. It’s a vanilla statement, but it’s alright if you’re not okay.”

He knew that you weren’t okay. Everybody knew. Hannibal never wanted to tell you (or anyone for that matter) what they were. He wanted them to figure it out, and for them to come to the realization on their own.

Because that’s where real, fruitful healing came from.

“I feel confused....amongst other things.” You confessed.

He felt a spark of hope. This was good. This was progress.

“Understandable. You’re navigating a rather bewildering path.” He encouraged you to keep talking.

He wanted you to get better. He wanted to see you thrive and be the happiest that you could ever be. This was the first time in the weeks that had passed that you sounded like you wanted that too.

“I just....I just don’t know what to do.” You answered with full transparency, a crack sneaking into your sentence as you turned to look at him.

Tears had formed and come forth in your eyes. It hurt him to see it, but in a way it was a relief because he knew that you were feeling something.

“You don’t have to know. It’s more than acceptable to take each day minute by minute,” Hannibal shifted closer, taking a bit of an initiative to wrap his arm around you and pull you into him. “But this? When you keep it to yourself, it only makes it worse and pulls you down with it.”

He was right. You knew it. You weren’t going to get better by not dealing with it at all. Moving on without attempting to patch the wound would only come back to haunt you later. You wanted to do this right. You needed to do this right.

“I feel too far gone. I don’t know if I can ever feel okay again.” You admitted, double lines of tears streaming your face as they left a stinging chill on your cheeks.

“You can. You absolutely can,” He encouraged, even a little bit desperately. “I can refer you to someone. Someone who can professionally help you.”

That statement brought a sound out of you that Hannibal had been longing for so dearly. As weak as it was, hearing you laugh brought a firework of joy exploding into his chest.

“Are you saying that you no longer wish to psychoanalyze me?” You joked, and he returned a smile.

“I want to be here for you in whatever way you wish. Just say the word and consider it done.” He said.

Your first request actually surprised him a bit. He had expected you to play shy and turn down his offer or even ask for more advice. Instead, you asked for something much sweeter and much needed.

“Kiss me?”

And kiss you he did. It was the most uplifting, comforting kiss that he’d ever given you. It spoke a thousand words and pumped him full of more hope with each passing second. You were going to be okay. You’d be happy once again and you’d be stronger than you ever were. He’d be back to throwing flour on you when he cooked meals and chasing after you around the house dripping wet and naked after you stole his towel from the bathroom counter.

Life was going to return to the way it was. He was going to be able to love the woman that he loved so dearly even harder now. You were going to come back to him. He had all the patience in the world waiting for that.

Because you were worth everything.

#hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x fem! reader #hannibal lecter x female reader #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter x y/n #hannibal lecter oneshot #hannibal lecter oneshots #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal lecter fluff #hannibal lecter angst #hannibal lecter fanfiction #Hannibal TV #hannibal nbc #detectivehannibal

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detectivehannibal · 2 years

Note

4 cats 1 hare and I have a baby duck but no photos :)

SO PRECIOUS !!!!

#yourlocalratwriter #apologies for the late response #detectivehannibal

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detectivehannibal · 2 years

Note

DEATH?

Oh no death?

No death, friend.

#yourlocalratwriter #how many cats do you have #detectivehannibal

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detectivehannibal · 2 years

Note

He’s asking how your day was :)

SBJSJDJSKSOSISJ HELLO!!!! My day was very long, Mr. Cat! I hope yours was great!

#yourlocalratwriter #HELLO #SO CUTE #detectivehannibal

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detectivehannibal · 2 years

Note

Idk why the idea of Will, when in the throes of sexy time, seeing his partner very much blissed out because of him going

“This is my design”

Idk why that is just super…..hot to me like. I can’t be the only one to think that. Like…..

Anyway I am Hannibal trash now so. That’s fun.

Will Graham x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut. Male/Female. Mentions of violence/gore.

Word Count: 1.4k

“You’ve gone quiet on me.”

“Look at you....” He drawled through breathless words and with a knowing smirk, “I don’t think that I’ve ever seen you quite like this.”

The heaving of your chest, the parted position of your kiss swollen lips, and the desperate grip of your hands on his biceps were all confident indicators that you were floating lost and freely somewhere deep in the clouds of ecstasy and sexual bliss. If you hadn’t known any better, then you would’ve been sure that Will Graham was the only other person in the world at this moment. Your brain was only focused on him. It actually could not focus on anything other than the man hovering over you and his cock buried as far into you as he physically could go.

Will was on a different type of energy tonight. Maybe it was the season change or maybe Will had just had a better day than usual, but nonetheless, Will was absolutely untamed tonight. Usually, Will tended to be a softer kind of lover. He was careful and more tentative to the situation at hand. However, based on the way he was right now, an outsider would’ve never believed it.

He rolled his hips backwards, withdrawing his cock that was dripping and slick with the arousal that had soaked you. The warm sensation from the loss of his dick inside of you was only temporary, because he was pushing back into you just as fast as he had pulled out. The palms of his hands were splayed over your bare hips, his grasp keeping your back pinned to the mattress and your legs wrapped around his waist.

He was bottoming out each time he stretched your walls, listening to your squeaks and moans to ensure that they were pleasureful and not painful. He was still keeping in mind that he had never handled you in such a rough, wild manner, because hurting you was never part of his intentions.

“Are you alright?” Will continued to thrust into you, the head of his cock pushing against your cervix that was stopping him from going any further, “You’ve gone quiet on me.”

Your noises had dwindled down to erratic breathing and whimpers of pleading. His thrusts slowed to a more glacial push in and pull out when he saw the black pupils of your eyes shimmer as if you were about to speak to him.

“S-Say it again.” You stuttered, but still managed to create a raspy whisper.

Will’s brows straightened and his smirk grew wider. He had you at his mercy. He had you right where he wanted you. It was moments like this that reminded him how much power he really had. He had you in a puddle of whines and moans just because of his words.

He lowered his head and chest downwards, his lips positioned just below the shell of your ear. The words were hot and sent a certain tingle down your spine as they echoed from the depths of his throat.

“This is my design.”

When he withdrew his cock the next time, he slammed it back inside of you as roughly as possible. A surprised, pleasant cry sounded out from your chest as the words he spoke and the motions of his body mingled together to create the most lustful experience for you. Pleasure was exploding and spreading all through you like a burning fire through a forest. You had never felt more connected to Will than at this moment.

You were feeling everything.

The fast beating of his heart, the rush of his blood through his veins, the inhales and exhales of his lungs -- every part of him was perfectly in tune with yours. It was hard to explain, but it was like you could feel your souls becoming more wrapped up with one another.

“My design. Flawless, stunning, wonderful....” Will continued to thrust as hard as he could, not stopping unless you said the word, “Absolutely perfect.”

His hands were everywhere and all at once. He wasn’t letting any part of you be neglected. Will respected you and he worshipped your body too much to let even an inch of your being left to be untouched. Will couldn’t understand how he had been graced with someone as beautiful and someone as exquisite as you.

He had witnessed events that most people didn’t believe to exist outside of movies and TV. Will had seen a lot of bad things in his life, to say the very least. He had seen the most ugly, brutal, horrible, and the downright evil things that the world had to offer. The things that took another devastating blow to his soul each time without fail.

So, he found himself to be very lucky to have someone such as you in his life. Someone to find comfort with. Someone he found relief with. Other people in his profession didn’t have that kind of person, and he had seen the damage that had done to them.

“Every single part of me goes into my design. Everything I’ve ever wanted....everything I’ll ever need is all right here in my pretty little design.”

“Will, I’m going to-”

“Not yet. I need you to hold it for me.” Will interrupted, wanting to savor this feeling as long as he could.

A noise of disapproval bubbled from your throat, a noise that was drowned out by Will’s mouth crashing into yours. He fought against your words, making you stay completely silent and without a word of protest. Your head collapsed back onto the soft pillow beneath you, your legs tightening around Will’s waist as hard as they could to fight the temptation to let your band of an orgasm snap too soon. Will didn’t stop his moments, even more a moment of rest. This was the best that sex with you had ever felt, and he knew that he could always have it this way.

This was the calmest, yet fieriest feeling he’d ever felt. The sweetest taste that had ever danced along his tongue, and he wanted to savor every drop for as long as he could. Will did have to dial his thrusts back a bit, just so he wouldn’t go right after telling you not to. And it was hard not to. The way he filled you so effortlessly and how you felt clenching around him. The two of you were going to be melted messes of absolute exhaustion by the end of this, but it’d be the best fatigue you’d ever get the pleasure to have.

“Just a few more. Come on, my angel.” Will urged.

Your eyes had glassed over, the sense of reality had escaped you long ago. There was nothing else that mattered to you than getting your release, and feeling as much of Will as he had to offer. Will didn’t like to leave you in such a clouded state, not for too long anyways. He didn’t like how it tinkered with your headspace and made you oh-so vulnerable. Vulnerability was one of those things that Will didn’t like to think about.

Will managed another shaky, sloppy kiss from you before knowing that he needed to let this end. He sped his thrusts back up, and made them even harder than they had been before. There was no way either of you could hold out now, and it was written all over your face. Will couldn’t help but offer a strained laugh, because he was right there with you.

“We’re going to go together,” Will instructed, his hands coming to your thighs to keep them secured around him, “Just like always.”

Your grip on his biceps tightened as the two of you released around one another, your visions going white and your mouths making the most beautiful orgasmic sounds. It was one of the more intense orgasms you had ever experienced, one that nearly sent you into a harsh spasm almost immediately. Will emptied his release out into you, filling you with every last bit. He milked your walls white, collapsing onto you when his arms couldn’t support him any longer.

The two of you laid there together in silence, taking the time to regain your composure and allow your bodies to return to their normal states. The two of you were wiped out, but as content as could be.

“Are you okay?” Will questioned after several minutes or so, lifting his head to look at you.

He could tell you were still a bit lost somewhere in the world of sexual bliss, but you were as coherent and clear as you had ever been when you looked back into his kind eyes.

“Yeah. I’m perfect.”

#will graham #will graham x reader #will graham x female reader #will graham x fem! reader #will graham x you #will graham x y/n #will graham fluff #will graham smut #will graham oneshot #will graham imagine #will graham imagines #will graham fanfiction #Hannibal TV #detectivehannibal

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detectivehannibal · 2 years

Text

The Hurt of the Soul

Hannibal Lecter x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Depression. Implied depression.

A/N: Okay, as far as warnings go...I don’t really know if depression is the right term. It’s sort of implied, but there’s more to depression than feeling sad. Tread lightly with this one, folks. Also, I have no idea if Hannibal has a sunroom or not. If you don’t know what a sunroom is, it’s basically like a second living room in a house that is like 90% windows.

Word Count: 2.1k

“Oh, my darling...you’re going to be perfectly fine.”

It had been raining for days. There had hardly been a break in the weather in the three days that it had been raining. The heavy rainfall had collected and brought forth puddles of water in the backyard and your and Hannibal’s shared home. It seemed that a family of ducks had taken a sudden liking to your property. A mother and her dozen of ducklings waddled through the shallow puddles, their tails fluttering as their webbed feet moved through the waterlogged grass. The mother duck was very attentive, making sure that all of her offspring made it across the menial body of water. It was a precious, natural sight that almost made your heart soar with joy.

At least someone was enjoying all this rain.

Your vision zoomed out, focusing on the rain that was still beating against the glass of the window. You watched them slip down and race each other to the bottom of the windowsill, disappearing into nothing only for the next set of raindrops to fall.

And the raindrops that slid down the glass of the window weren’t much different than the silent tears streaming your cheeks.

It was an odd feeling. It was an odd feeling to know that you were sad, and yet you couldn’t pinpoint a single thing that was making you unhappy. On the surface, you should’ve been the happiest you’d ever be. You had a job that was fulfilling and allowed you to showcase your talents. You lived in a wonderful house that was picture perfect and everything you ever dreamed of. Most of all, you had Hannibal, who was the most caring, attentive, and loving boyfriend that you could ask for. You should’ve been fine. You should’ve been happy.

But you weren’t. And you didn’t know why.

It had taken a toll on you in many different ways. Suddenly, you were exhausted in all aspects. Over the course of the last few months, you had become physically, emotionally, and mentally drained to the point where nothing felt right or worthy. Your life both felt like it was at a standstill, and that it was passing you by faster than you could process it. This rough patch, dry spell, era of tribulation, or whatever you wanted to call it was a lot like this rainstorm. It seemed that the more you anticipated for it to end, the longer and worse it became.

The worst of it all was that your relationship had taken the biggest hit. The distance between you and Hannibal was unmistakable. Over the last few months, you had drifted so far from him that he felt like he couldn’t even see you anymore. Dinners at the dinner table were nearly silent as you barely ate enough to sustain you with real energy. Movie night was suddenly bland from your lack of enthusiasm and commentary. There was an unresolved tension, one that grew thicker with each passing day.

On the surface, this seemed like a textbook rough patch within your relationship. To someone who didn’t know you very well, it looked like the two of you were working through a dry spell. But Hannibal knew you well. He knew you maybe a little too well. This wasn’t a rough patch or a dry spell.

There was something going on in your heart that was hurting your soul.

He could see it. He could sense the way you weren’t finding joy in the things that used to make you undeniably happy. He could see the way your movements were sluggish while doing everyday things. He could feel the way your body was so lifeless when he touched you. That wasn’t you. Hannibal knew that this wasn’t normal. He was watching you sink deeper and deeper into this pit of nothingness and no matter how far he reached, he just couldn’t catch you.

You were right there. You were right there in front of him, and yet you had never been so far.

The house had been quiet today. It was Saturday, and both you and Hannibal were off work for the weekend. Hannibal didn’t have any patients until Monday, and you had no responsibilities to deal with until the work week started back. Weekends at home were usually casual and lowkey. Hannibal believed that the weekend’s sole purpose was to refresh and recharge for another week of pressure and stress. Taking advantage of rest time was something Hannibal always believed in.

But this kind of quiet was different. It wasn’t the good kind of quiet that suggested that there was some serious relaxation going on. It was the hurt, busy thinking kind of quiet. It was still mid-morning, only about 8:00 AM or so. Hannibal had woken up to an empty bed. Your pillow was cold from the morning air, letting him know that you had been absent for a while. Unfortunately, it had become the new normal for Hannibal to wake up to you already gone. You hadn’t been sleeping, and now the night hours were just as anxious as the day.

Hannibal didn’t lounge around in bed, curious to know where you were and what you were doing. He approached his wardrobe, quickly getting dressed and exiting the bedroom. He assumed you’d be in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee or tea to make up for the hours of sleep you hadn’t obtained. However, the kitchen was untouched and just as he had left it after dinner the night before. He checked the living room, the dining room, and both of your home offices. You were nowhere to be seen, and Hannibal was beginning to think that you weren’t home at all.

It wasn’t until he passed by the sunroom in the back of the house that he spotted you. Your curled up frame against the cushions of the couch was unmistakable, your eyes set on the water droplets against the glass. Hannibal usually had quiet footfalls, and while it remained true, you heard his presence the moment that he stopped in the doorway. Hannibal watched you for a few moments, counting the slow blinks of your eyelashes and the steady inhales and exhales of your lungs. One of his hands rested on his abdomen, against the dark blue wool of his pullover sweater as he watched, the palm of his hand feeling his own breathing. Hannibal shifted on his feet, his other hand resting in the right pocket of his slacks. Even though you knew he was there, you didn’t acknowledge him. You didn’t offer him an invitation, a glance, or even a word.

You weren’t being fair to him. You knew that you were being unreasonably cruel to him. Hannibal had always been there for you at every turn. Every ounce of patience, care, and love that he had to offer, he had offered to you. Hannibal knew something was wrong. He could see that you were hurting. All he wanted to do was to be there for you, to hold your hand as a way of guiding you back into the sun. It seemed that the harder he tried, the more you pushed him away.

You didn’t need his help. You didn’t need anybody’s help. You weren’t any more broken than anybody else. The exhaustion in your bones was normal. The feeling of nothingness would pass. The ache of your heart would go away on its own. But you knew that wasn’t true. You knew that none of that was true.

And he knew that you knew that.

“I’m sad.” You confessed, your voice barely even as loud as a whisper.

A beat passed. A moment of silence ensued, other than the sound of rain pattering against the roof and windows. Not surprisingly, Hannibal began to do exactly what you hadn’t wanted him to do.

I have done something to upset her. Hannibal thought to himself. I have said something to damage her feelings.

“Why are you sad?” Hannibal asked.

Your line of sight never left the window, gazing past the racing raindrops and staring out into the garden. Even though you weren’t looking at him, you knew that he was studying and analyzing every single part of you from the look in your eyes down to the position of how you were sitting. Over time, you had learned how to identify when Hannibal was trying to read you. It was a mixture of feeling watched and being preyed on. You had gotten used to it over time, but you always noted how oddly it felt.

“I don’t know.” You replied, giving no change in expression or tone.

Hannibal ruled out that he was the root of the problem. You would’ve told him if it was him. It hadn’t always been that way. 2 years ago, you would’ve tried to deny that he had done anything wrong. However, you had learned over time that trick didn’t work on Hannibal.

Seasonal depression. Hannibal had thought to himself. It’s common, and a logical explanation.

“It’s a challenging time of year.” Hannibal subtly said, more as a suggestion than anything else.

You didn’t give a response that was more than a heavy exhale through your nose. Hannibal pondered on his theory more, and eventually ruled it out. You had been this way for so long that the entire winter season had almost passed. So, that wasn’t it. He invited himself in, not uttering a word as he stepped down into the sunroom. He joined you on the sofa, settling just a few feet away from you. You finally turned your head, looking at him through your tear-glazed eyes that hadn’t seen the light of joy in far too long.

It hurt Hannibal to see you like this. It absolutely shattered him to see you so heartbroken and so beaten down by the world. You were his source of innocence and his source of rejubilation. Seeing you so hurt only hurt him worse. Hannibal was a renowned psychiatrist. He knew that, and everyone else knew that. It was only natural for him to try to understand why you felt this way. He wanted to help you and bring you back from this darkness. But being a psychiatrist wasn’t the answer to everything. It wasn’t something he liked, but something that he had accepted. He couldn’t fix everything. He couldn’t solve everything.

But he could be there for you.

Hannibal’s hand carefully reached out for you, cupping your face with the palm of his hand. His hand was warm against your chilled skin, the warmth spreading down your neck with each second that passed. His thumb dragged across your cheek, wiping away the tears that continued to fall. Your head lolled into his hand, small sniffles and muted cries continuing on. Compassion and sympathy was written all over his face, his heart screaming at him to comfort you as best as he could.

The two of you only looked at each other, looking into each other’s eyes like you were the only people in the world. Without saying anything, the two of you were saying so much. Your eyes were pleading through the brokenness in them, sobbing an endless “I’m sorry” for pushing him so far away. But his eyes, dark and beautiful, replied with nothing more than a sincere “I’m here for you”.

“Come here.” He requested, pulling his hand away from your face to open his arms to you.

It was an immediate, but glacial response as you moved to crawl over to him. It took more energy than you would’ve liked to admit just to move the small distance from where you sat to Hannibal’s lap. All four of your limbs wrapped around him desperately, a show of affection that was oh-so needed. Hannibal returned the embrace, a silent yet powerful exhale of relief expelling from his chest. That hug meant more to him than you would ever understand. It wasn’t that anything had changed in the last few seconds, but that show of physical trust and affection let Hannibal know that you were willing to accept his help. He knew that you’d be okay with time. His trained patience and his adoration for you would bring you back to where you needed and wanted to be. You were going to be fine, you just needed to believe it yourself.

“Oh, my darling...you’re going to be perfectly fine.” Hannibal assured, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as he squeezed you a little tighter.

You didn’t feel fine, not even close. Honestly, you were pretty sure that you didn’t even remember what it felt like to be “fine”. However, Hannibal’s confidence never failed to encourage you in the right direction. Your head craned to look up at him, your eyes still producing tears that were gliding down your puffy cheeks.

“Promise?” You asked in a whisper that almost came out as a squeak.

Hannibal nodded with a hum, kissing the tip of your nose with the sweetest, softest kiss that he could.

“I promise.”

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter x reader imagine #hannibal lecter x y/n #Hannibal TV #hannibal lecter oneshot #hannibal lecter angst #hannibal lecter fluff #tw: depression #detectivehannibal

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detectivehannibal · 2 years

Text

✮ Will Graham ✮

☾ means smut (18+)

ꕤ means my personal favorites

My other side blogs: @seriouslysnape @ghostandsoap @cowboymorgan @twdbegins @detectivesvu @midnightmxss

✮ Headcanons ✮

Dating Will Graham: Plus size! Fem! Reader

Will Graham Finds Your Collection of Plushies ꕤ

Will Graham’s Romantic Gestures

✮ One-Shots ✮

Restless - If anyone knows how to deal with sleep problems, it’s Will Graham.

Two Timed - After Hannibal cheats on you, you run to Will for support.

Two Timed (pt.2) - You return to finish things with Hannibal...and Will wants to make sure it stays that way.

A Steady Competition - Hannibal and Will both have an interest in you and it’s any man’s game.

Bombshell - You drop unexpected news on Will and Hannibal.

His Design ꕤ ☾ - You are Will’s most perfect, flawless part of himself.

#will graham #will graham x reader #will graham x fem! reader #will graham x female reader #will graham x you #will graham x y/n #will graham fluff #will graham angst #will graham smut #will graham drabble #will graham imagines #will graham imagine #will graham oneshot #will graham headcanon #will graham fanfiction #will graham masterlist #detectivehannibal

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detectivehannibal · 3 years

Text

Studying with Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal Lecter x Student! Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Cock warming.

Request: Hannibal x fem student reader? She’s trying to focus amd write her exam online but hanni gets horny from watching her?smut pleeeeeeaze

A/N: Disclaimer that the reader is over the age of 18!

Going back to college you finish your education was one of the best and worst ideas you ever had.

There were definitely pros and cons to the situation.

The pros were that you were working toward achieving something that you could use for the rest of your life.

You would be able to consider yourself an expert in your field.

Not to mention the bragging rights.

On the flip side, you were always slammed with work and all the studying you were doing was giving you flash backs to high school.

It didn’t help that you were a perfectionist, and that you would literally study until you fell asleep or Hannibal dragged you away to bed.

Hannibal is more than happy to share his home office with you, allowing you to sit at his large desk and use whatever material you might need.

Hannibal tries not to bother you when you’re studying or working on an assignment.

He’ll poke his head in every so often to make sure you don’t need anything.

He’ll bring you tea, coffee, a snack, etc.

You name it and he’ll get it for you.

Sometimes though, you’ll ask him to come sit with you so you can chat while you work.

You knew that going back to school had taken your attention off of him and he was beginning to feel distant from you.

So you try to reach out to him as best you can.

He’ll pull up a chair and sit next to you.

Sometimes he’ll even do some of his own work and the two of you will work together and make small talk.

He did what he could to lower your stress levels.

He wanted you to be successful.

But sometimes your workload was just too much.

There was one evening particular where you were REALLY stressed out.

Like, you came home and holed yourself up in his office without saying a word.

It sparked him as odd, considering that you always took the time to ask him about his day, no matter what you had to do.

He waited a couple of hours before going to check on you.

He stood near the doorway, watching as you typed furiously on your laptop.

He originally wasn’t going to say anything, but the longer he watched, the more...aroused that he got.

He couldn’t quite pinpoint why something as simple as you working hard got him hot and bothered.

He figured it was because he hadn’t really been intimate with you in a while.

That and there was something so attractive about seeing you so focused on something.

He approached you quietly in his socked feet.

He rested his hands on your shoulders carefully, breaking you from your trance.

“Hey, Hanni.” was all you could really muster to say at the moment.

“My love...why don’t you take a break?”

Normally, that was all it took for you to tear away for a bit,

But today you were determined to power through.

“No, I can’t. I’ve got to finish this.”

“You’ve been working for far too long. I really wish you’d take a break.”

His thumbs started rubbing at the tense muscles in your shoulder, making his offer so hard to refuse.

He could see the stress on your face and he could practically smell the tension.

You needed some relief...some stress relief.

“Just 15 minutes. That’s all I ask for.”

His lips had fallen to your neck now, kissing and sucking softly.

A sigh escaped your chest, reluctance coursing through you.

But eventually, you agreed.

Hannibal stood you up from the desk chair, only to sit down himself and pull you on his lap.

You straddled him, the two of you making out and sharing passionate “I love yous”.

You felt bad when you felt how needy his kisses were.

They said nothing short of “I’ve missed you”.

Hannibal started to get handsy, his fingertips teasing the waistband of your shorts.

His hard on was obvious underneath you.

He slipped your shorts off of your legs while you worked on getting his belt and pants off.

He turned you around to where you were facing the desk again, raising you and lowering you down onto his erection.

The moan that you let out was music to his ears.

You went to start moving, but his hand stopped you from doing so.

“Hannibal, what-”

“Go on, darling. Read to me what you have so far.”

He had to be kidding.

He did all this to get you to stop working and now he wanted you to review it?

You tried to shift your hips to get some kind of friction, but he held you extremely still.

You started to read off of your laptop screen.

You were stuttering through it, an occasional curse sounding out.

He was buried deep inside of you.

His tip prodding at your cervix.

He made noises of interest and affirmation as you read, clearly impressed with what you had so far.

He turned down all of your pleas, prompting you to keep going.

You finished reading, ignoring the way that the words had began to blur.

You were begging now.

“Hannibal, please fuck me.”

“But I thought you liked feeling me like this?”

“I do, but...it’s so much better when you’re moving. Please, baby, I promise I’ll be good.”

Finally, Hannibal couldn’t bear to hear your whimpers anymore,

He wanted to make you feel good.

He lifted you off of his dick momentarily to turn you back around.

He took a second to marvel at how you had soaked him.

You barely waited to sink down onto him completely before you started rolling your hips against him.

Hannibal groaned in your ear, his voice rumbling and low.

He guided your hips in a rhythm, loving the way you bounced on his lap.

You angled yourself back a bit so he’d hit your g-spot every time you landed back onto him.

He wanted to get you to a fast, but good orgasm.

His fingers rubbed at your sensitive clit to bring you closer to your finish.

He thrusted up into you hard.

Each new thrust melting away more and more of your stress.

He sucked hickeys on your neck and praised you endlessly.

“You’re so good. I’m so proud of you.”

“Such a good girl. You’re so perfect.”

He worked you until you unraveled around him, your release hitting you full force with a flash of white.

He came inside of you, milking your walls white.

Your head fell onto his shoulder as you went limp, too tired to move.

His hands rubbed over your back as your breathings returned to normal.

He left sweet, lazy kisses wherever he could.

Your voice sounded out shortly after, drawing a laugh from him.

“I think...I can stop here for the night.”

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #Hannibal TV #hannibal lecter imagines #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x reader imagine #hannibal lecter x female reader #hannibal lecter smut #hannibal lecter headcanons #detectivehannibal

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