#hannibal fluff

[xerroahxhan]

The Forgotten Child

The mall was alive with movement—voices overlapping, the whir of shopping carts, the beeping of registers. People passed by, weaving in and out of stores, lost in their own worlds. You weren’t particularly focused on any of it, just walking alongside Hannibal and Will, the rhythm of their steps falling in sync with yours.

But then you saw him.

A little boy, no older than two, standing by a row of carts, left alone.

At first, it didn’t seem real. Maybe his mother was just a step away, maybe someone had turned away for only a moment. But then the seconds dragged on, and no one came.

His lip wobbled. His tiny fingers clutched the metal of the cart, like he was holding onto the only steady thing in his world. His round eyes scanned the crowd, searching—waiting—but finding nothing.

Then, the break. A deep inhale, the tremble of a breath, and the first tear slipping down his cheek.

Your chest tightened.

It was the kind of sadness that reached somewhere deep inside of you, a pull you didn’t want to acknowledge. The type of thing that made something ache in your ribs. You knew what it was to be small in a world that didn’t always look back at you, to feel lost even when surrounded by people.

You tried to suppress it. Your expression didn’t change much, your posture remained composed, but your steps had already slowed. Will and Hannibal noticed.

Will followed your line of sight, his brows furrowing. "What’s—" But then he saw, too.

Hannibal didn’t say anything at first, only tilted his head slightly as he observed. But when you took a step forward, he moved with you, and so did Will.

The boy let out a hiccuped sob.

You knelt down in front of him, making sure not to startle him. Your voice was soft, careful. "Hey, sweetheart," you murmured. "Where’s your mama?"

He sniffled, his little fingers twitching at his sides. He wasn’t wailing, but the quiet distress was somehow worse. Like he wasn’t sure he was even allowed to cry.

Something about that hit you harder than you wanted to admit.

You exhaled, steadying yourself. "It’s okay. She’ll be back soon. We can wait together, yeah?"

Still, he hesitated, his big eyes searching yours. And then, after a moment, he lifted his small arms toward you.

You didn’t think. You just reacted.

Scooping him up, you adjusted him onto your hip with practiced ease. He curled into you almost immediately, his little hands gripping onto your clothing, his head tucking under your chin. He was warm, small, and completely trusting.

You rubbed his back lightly, rocking him in place. "You’re okay," you murmured, voice instinctively soothing. "We’ll wait for her right here, okay?"

Hannibal watched the scene with quiet interest. His gaze flicked between you and the child, his expression unreadable, but there was something thoughtful in the way he observed you.

Will, on the other hand, seemed more affected by your reaction. His arms were crossed, lips pressed together as if holding back words. When you glanced at him, he looked at you with something close to understanding. Like he saw something in you that maybe even you didn’t want to acknowledge.

You glanced away, focusing instead on the boy’s steadying breaths. "Just… ridiculous," you muttered. "That someone would leave their kid like this."

Hannibal’s voice cut through smoothly. "Not everyone is fit for parenthood," he said. "Yet many still assume the role."

The words sat uncomfortably with you. Not because they were wrong, but because they were too sharp, too clear.

You didn’t want to think about it.

And then, just as suddenly as she had vanished, the mother reappeared.

She strolled up, holding a bag from one of the stores, looking mildly surprised but not at all concerned. "Oh," she said, blinking at the sight of you holding her child. "He’s fine."

You stared at her.

"Fine?" you echoed. The word sat strangely in your mouth.

She sighed, as if she were the one being inconvenienced. "I just stepped inside for a minute. He knows to wait."

You adjusted the boy in your arms, steadying your tone. "He’s two," you said. "You left him standing alone in a crowded mall."

She shrugged. "He’s not hurt, is he?"

That made something burn in you.

Before you could respond, Hannibal’s voice cut in, deceptively calm. "He was crying," he said. "That is harm enough."

The woman blinked at him, shifting uncomfortably. She glanced between him and Will, perhaps realizing for the first time that she wasn’t just dealing with one person.

Will scoffed, arms still crossed. "Yeah, no big deal," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just a little kid, terrified and alone. No problem."

The woman’s expression hardened. "I know my child," she said, defensive now. "And you don’t need to tell me how to parent."

You took a slow breath, forcing yourself to stay even. "I’m not trying to attack you," you said. "But he was scared. Just... be more careful next time, okay?"

A beat of silence.

Then, with a roll of her eyes, she reached for her son. "Come on, let’s go."

You hesitated before handing him over. He didn’t cry again, but he looked at you one last time, his little fingers flexing like he wanted to hold onto something.

You gave him a small smile, brushing a hand over his hair. "Be good, sweetheart," you murmured.

And then, just like that, they were gone.

The silence between you, Hannibal, and Will lingered.

Will exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Jesus," he muttered. "Some people shouldn’t have kids."

Hannibal hummed in quiet agreement but said nothing. Instead, his gaze lingered on you.

You still felt the warmth of the child in your arms, even though he was gone.

Will nudged you lightly, his tone softer now. "You okay?"

You blinked, rolling your shoulders slightly. "Yeah," you said, shaking off the feeling. "I just... can’t believe she just left him."

Hannibal’s voice was smooth, unintrusive. "You cared quite deeply."

The statement sat in the air, heavy in its simplicity.

You only sighed, rubbing your temple. "He just needed someone to be there."

Hannibal studied you for another long moment, then simply inclined his head. "Indeed."

And with that, you moved on.

But the feeling stayed.

[daughter0fthewitch]

a kiss. . .‧˚꒰🫀꒱༘‧

a kiss is the beginning of cannibalism pairing: hannibal lecter x gn!reader genre: domestic • fluff notes: little head canon/imagine, established relationship, tw: mentions/hinting at cannibalism MINORS DNI!! ─── ꒰ 💋 ꒱ ───

You had just finished your shower and getting undone after a day out, after a warm shower you had wrapped yourself in Hannibal's robes

Now you stand in his office with Hannibal resting against your chest, his head tucked just beneath your chin

Your fingers brush through his hair slowly, careful not to disturb its order too much, you know how much he dislikes that

You kiss the top of his head and let him sink fully into you. you had made sure not to use strongly scented soap, you know how much he prefers the natural scent of you

Hannibal leans closer, inhaling deeply, taking his time to really smell you, your scent grounds him more than anything else could

His hold tightens subtly as he pulls you closer, hands slipping beneath the robe to trace the warmth of you, while his face stays pressed to your chest

"You… are distracting me." he mumbles after a moment, words muffled

You hum playfully, fingers still in his hair "Distracting you from what?" You smile and kiss his head, "If you have things to do, I’ll let you, love…"

"I have many things to do still, darling..." he replies after exhaling evenly.

His hands skim higher under the robe, squeezing you gently

"Yet here I am…being thoroughly distracted by you."

Finally he pulls back to look up at you

You laugh and step away, his hands leaving you reluctantly, and you pull his robe tighter around yourself

"Then I’ll let you work, love… I can lay on the couch, if you'd like me to."

The beige couch sits in his office for one reason only: you

Hannibal watches you pull away, he smooths his hair, straightens himself in his chair

"The couch, yes, you may stay." he says, he finds the sight of you lounging nearby deeply soothing

Minutes later, the familiar quiet settles in, you lounge on the couch, book in hand, legs draped over the edge, head on a plush pillow

Hannibal works at his desk, pen moving steadily over his paperwork, but his eyes drift to you again and again, lingering longer each time, watching you read, it is almost domestic... calm, peaceful

Eventually, he sighs and sets his pen down, rubbing a hand over his face

You look up immediately "Trouble with work?" you ask, eyes flicking back to your book after a moment

Hannibal studies you for a moment then chuckles quietly, shaking his head "No, love. Just… dealing with idiocy, as usual."

His gaze roams over you again, a smirk tugging at his lips

"You look rather lovely lounging there, by the way."

"Thank you, I am rather comfortable."

He leans a bit forward in his chair, watching you flip the page

Your breathing, your form, your faint scent, it all pulls at him, steers his thoughts into a completely different direction.

"What are you reading?" he asks gruffly, just to keep his own thoughts distracted

You glance over the edge of the book

"If You Died Tomorrow I Would Eat Your Corpse" you read the book title aloud, then disappear behind the pages again.

You remind him, "Love, don’t get distracted from work…"

Hannibal's brows lift slightly and he huffs softly

"How can I not be distracted... when you're lounging there reading about– "

You cut him off before he finishes "It's not only about cannibalism. It’s about love and desire and grief." You turn another page

"You know you'll complain later if you don’t finish your work now." you add.

Hannibal grumbles, you were right, he straightens the papers on his desk, "Yes, yes, my little nag.", affectionate despite himself

You continue reading, but after a while, you hum thoughtfully and glance at him

"Hannibal?" you ask quietly, unsure if you are allowed to disturb him now.

He looks up immediately, pen set aside "Yes, darling?"

You glance back at your book, brows furrowed "Do you think a kiss is the beginning of cannibalism?"

He pauses, caught off guard, then intrigued "That's an interesting question..." he muses, "One could argue that a kiss is a form of consumption. An act of devouring another."

You hum, now staring at the ceiling in thought

"What about a loveless kiss? Or loveless consumption?"

Hannibal watches you closely "A loveless kiss is still possession... A taking. A domination. Desire without meaning."

He smirks faintly, "Why do you ask?"

"Is there desire in a loveless kiss?" you press instead of answering his question

He chuckles softly, he liked it when you indulged in discussions and asked questions

"Yes," he admits "But it is hollow. Unsatisfying."

"I only eat for love" you hum, "Don't you think there's something loving about eating with one another?"

Hannibal stills, a small faint smile lingers on his lips, his gaze stays on you, "Yes."

"There is intimacy in sharing food… with someone who understands the weight of it."

"You are far too clever for your own good, darling."

"I learn from the best..." you hum, smiling before hiding behind your book again, After a moment, you add softly, "I love you."

Hannibal's expression softens, "I love you too, dear."

"Now… let me finish my work."

I hope you liked it! feel free to leave ideas and requests in my inbox and comments <3

[wintrynightz]

“I don’t understand why I need to learn this” you speak, your voice barely above a whisper, as if one word said too loudly would cause the trigger to go off from the cold gun settled in your hands. “You know why” is all which Will answers to your question. His one hand finds his way onto the pistol moving it to a better position, while his other hand finds it way around your waist, and lastly his feet kicking yours to keep them apart.

It was supposed to be a calm Saturday morning until Will dragged you into a shooting range and refusing to leave until you learn to defend yourself from the kind of threats that he meets in his line of work constantly. “I have you to protect me if something would happen” you say, trying your best to get him to drop this and to be able to enjoy your weekend the way you intended to. “I won’t always be there” he says, his voice tight “just breath and pull the trigger”. And so you do, barely hitting the target. Even so, it earns you a soft kiss on the top of your head.

[vmpyre-trgedy]

The First “I Love You.”

Hannibal Lecter x male reader

Tags: Fluff

Warnings: n/a

Summary: Hannibal tells you that he loves you for the first time over dinner.

He said it in the middle of dinner.

Not a special dinner. Not a dinner with candles and flowers and the kind of orchestrated romance that Hannibal excelled at. Just a Tuesday. Just a meal. Just the two of you at his dining table, the same table where he had served you a dozen meals before, the same table where you had slowly, inexorably, fallen into the orbit of a monster.

You were eating. Something rich and dark, a slow braised dish that had been cooking since morning. The wine was deep and velvety. The conversation had been light, easy, the kind of comfortable silence that came from months of knowing each other.

And then he said it.

"I love you."

You nearly choked on your wine. You set the glass down carefully, your hand trembling, and you looked at him across the table. His face was calm. His eyes, those dark, unreadable eyes, were fixed on you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

"What did you say?" Your voice came out rough, a half strangled whisper.

He set down his fork. He folded his hands on the table. He looked at you like you were the most fascinating thing he had ever studied.

"I love you," he repeated. The words were measured. Deliberate. He was not testing them. He was not unsure. He was stating a fact, the same way he would state a diagnosis or a weather report.

You could not breathe. Your chest was tight, your heart pounding against your ribs. This was not how it was supposed to go. You were not supposed to be sitting here, in the home of a man who had killed more people than you could count, being told that he loved you.

"You're joking," you said.

"I do not joke. Not about this, at least." A small, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. "You know this."

You did know this. Hannibal Lecter did not joke about statements such as these. He did not say things he did not mean. Every word he spoke was chosen with the same precision he used to select a scalpel, with only the occasional cannibal joke or pun toward FBI agents who came over for dinner. And now he had chosen these three words, and he had laid them on the table between you like a live grenade.

"Why?" The question came out cracked, broken. "Why do you love me? You know what I know. You know I've seen the basement. You know I've seen what you do. How can you possibly love me?"

He considered this. He tilted his head, that birdlike gesture that meant he was turning something over in his mind.

"I love you," he said, "because you see me. Not the mask. Not the performance. Me. You have seen the worst of what I am, and you have not run. You have not called the police. You have not tried to save yourself. You have stayed. You have sat at my table. You have let me cook for you. You have let me touch you. You have let me into your life with your eyes wide open. Do you understand how rare that is?"

You shook your head. You could not speak. Your throat was closed, your eyes burning.

"No one has ever seen me," he said. "Not truly. They see the doctor, the host, the charming European with impeccable taste. They see the monster, when I choose to show them. But you have seen both. You have seen the pieces and you have seen the whole. And you are still here. That is not nothing. That is everything."

He rose from his chair. He walked around the table, slow and deliberate, and he knelt beside your chair. His hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek. He was warm. He was solid. He was the most terrifying thing you had ever known.

"I love you," he said again, softer this time. "I love the way you look at me when you think I am not watching. I love the way you say my name, as though it means something to you. I love the way you fight against the truth of what you feel, and I love that you always lose. I love you, and I will never stop loving you. Not even when you finally run."

"I'm not going to run."

He smiled. It was his private smile, the one he kept for you, the one that made him look almost human.

"I know," he said. "That is why I love you."

He kissed you. His lips were soft and warm, and he tasted like wine and the faint copper of blood that never quite washed away. He kissed you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, like you were the only person who had ever been worth the effort.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours. His eyes were closed. His breathing was steady. He was utterly, completely present, and he was yours.

"Say it back," he murmured. "I want to hear you say it."

You swallowed. Your heart was pounding. Your hands were shaking. You looked at this man, this monster, this beautiful, terrible creature who had claimed you as his own, and you realized that you had known for months. You had known the first time he cooked for you. You had known the first time he held you. You had known the first time you saw the basement and did not leave.

"I love you," you said. "More than anything. More than I should. But I love you anyway."

The words felt strange on your tongue. Foreign. Heavy. But they also felt true, truer than anything you had ever said.

His eyes opened. He looked at you with an expression you had never seen before, something raw and vulnerable and terrifyingly human. His hand cupped your face, and he kissed you again, deeper this time, with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

"I will never let you go," he said against your lips. "You understand that, don't you? I will never let you leave. I will never let anyone take you from me. You are mine. Do you understand?"

"Yes," you said. "I understand."

He pulled back. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown wide, and his smile was wider, more bright than you had ever seen it. A glimpse of the human being under that perfect facade.

"Good," he said. "Now finish your dinner. It is getting cold."

You laughed. It came out cracked and broken, half a sob, half a release. He rose from his knees and returned to his seat, and he picked up his fork like he had not just rearranged the entire architecture of your life.

You looked at him across the table. He was beautiful. He was terrible. He was the most dangerous thing you had ever touched, and you loved him. You loved him so much it hurt.

You lifted your fork. You took another bite.

And you did not look away.

————

A/n: AAAAARGHHH I LOVE HIMM

[willgrahamsbouncingbulge]

New chapter!

Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Hannibal - Fandom Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter Characters: Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, Abigail Hobbs, Garrett Jacob Hobbs, Rinaldo Pazzi, The Stag (Hannibal) Additional Tags: Romance, Smut, Fluff, Humor, Knifeplay, Fix It Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Cannibalism, Domestic, no AI, Mutual Pining, They are so in love that it is stupid, Porn With Plot, Aftercare, Jealous Will Graham, Episode: s01e07 Sorbet, Surreal, Soft, Until it isn't, Resolved Sexual Tension, Canon-Typical Violence Summary:

The wine was supposed to be a transactional gesture. Will told himself it was nothing more than a polite thank-you for Hannibal’s help. But when he’s asked to stay for just one glass (then two, then three), Will finds himself seduced into the kind of evening he eventually doesn't want to escape from. God forbid they become friendly.

[dolicekiss]

Hello,

I‘m new to this blog and don‘t really understand how requests work, so here goes nothing. Would you be down to write a Hannibal x fem reader one shot, where the reader is from our universe into Hannibal‘s and meets him after a traumatic even through the FBI, she is a hige Fannibal so she immediately recognises the settings and him.( i don‘t really mind if it‘s with fluff or smut)

♡: i j realized i get perfect requests with the plot in them but i still write down the synopsis because aesthetic 💀

All known

PAIRING: Hanninal Lecter x kinda infatuated!Reader

TRIGGER WARNINGS: typical cannibalistic hannibal, kidnapping, rape attempt (not done by hannibal dw), talkative reader (basically she's heart eyes for him), manipulative hannibal, fluff at the end, that's all !! i found this idea very cute and couldn't end it with smut

SYNOPSIS: Transporting to a new world, especially the one of your favorite show was not something you thought was even possible. But here you were, captured by some serial killer who wanted to harm you, though when your saviour walked through a white door, you did not expect it to be Hannibal Lecter. The famous serial killer and cannibal.

Seeing a tiktok about transporting to the universe of the show you last watched was only for amusement. You hadn't actually expected it to happen when you woke up chained in some dusty basement — ankle sore, clothes torn and abruptly changed into different ones.

The worst part? You were oblivious to what was going on.

Whether this was a mere dream, or a nightmare. Just what was even happening? Before you could even acknowledge your surroundings or the position you were, the door opened and there stood a man. His silhouette intimidating you.

You tugged on the chain but to no avail.

“Excuse me, where am I?”

The man appeared angry, and a little unstable too from the dark circles around his dark impassive eyes, not forgetting the way he twitched. It was all too intimidating for you and like a prey, you pressed yourself deeper into the corner. Heart beat picking up at the thought of danger and then the man reached for your ankle, his rough hand wrapping around it.

He tugged onto you and with one single pull, he had you right underneath him. Realization dawned upon you like heavy cement, eyes widening at what the man's intentions were. You had no idea how you'd ended up like this, in this situation but getting out of it meant more than chasing after answers.

Setting your confusion aside, as you registered the man's hand creeping up your thigh, you kicked at him. It sent him back but he regained composure, his hand walloping you across the face.

The stinging sensation was too real for all this to be a vivid nightmare. You felt the blood run warm in your skin and your throat parched. Heart beating vigorously in your chest, you struggled when the man tried to grasp your wrists.

Pushing himself against you, putting all his body weight onto you.

He'd made a grave mistake by not restraining your hands. You did everything in your power, whether it was scratching his face off like a wild beast or smacking him — all to set yourself free and from the horrible deed that was about to be done to you.

As he grabbed both your wrists in a seething tight grip, you cried out. The man's face became a blur, hard ridges of his face melting away into the background. Growing lighthearted by each moment, your brain helped you freeze.

It all happened in the flick of a light switch.

Doors slamming open, multiple men running in and hoisting the man from above you. Just as he was about to undo his buckle and indulge further into the crime. Your body somehow made it to the corner of the room, knees pressed into your chest and head buried between them.

The whole situation had left you flummoxed.

Eyes wide and tears continuously falling down, the shouts of men and a few women evolved into a ringing side. Your ears beginning to throb from the raw cruelty that you were about to face.

The act of taking your humanity away from you.

“Are you alright?” Came a deep — weirdly familiar voice from behind the blurs and rings of sounds. Your head slowly lifted up and when your gaze finally accustomed to your surroundings, a gasp escaped.

A familiar face.

One you didn't know personally but was well aware of its existence.

Its entirely fictional existence.

“Miss, are you alright?” He asked, his Lithuanian accent prominent and the lilt almost made you shrink the space between the two of you.

Your lips parted. “Hannibal?”

He was bewildered for a moment. How did you know his name? It wasn't the fact that you knew of his name which left him this—distraught but with so much longing and familiarity you pronounced it. Like you'd known him all your life, saw into his soul rather the demeanor he put out.

Hannibal, for the first time ever, was perplexed.

“Let me help you.” He slowly reached for you and you allowed him, knowing the type of man he was. Chances of him touching you inappropriately were lower than the pits of hell — him devouring you though? That was a different story.

You allowed him to present help.

After witnessing the poor situation of your clothes, he shrugged his coat off and draped it over your shoulders. You reminded yourself that the man was fond and appreciative of polite people, so you thanked him in the form of a light whisper.

“If you're here that means Will Graham is too, a-and Jack Crawford.” You said, reminiscing the collection of the characters from the last show you'd watched. “Is Beverly here?”

Hannibal didn't know what was going on.

Okay, maybe you'd known him through his lectures or books, or — giving himself the benefit of the doubt; you were his patient but Hannibal knew if you were, he would not have forgotten it. You asked for his colleagues like you knew him, on a personal level. How could that be possible?

“Jack Crawford isn't here.” Hannibal whispered, leading you outside to the ambulance.

From the corner of your eye you caught Will Graham and a subtle smile appeared. After sitting down in the ambulance, you finally decided to register the area. A broken, torn down cabin in the middle of nowhere. Dry and yellow grass surrounding its porch and walls — showcasing its preference of solitude over human companionship.

The man who'd brought you harm was nowhere to be found, probably taken into custody and you sighed.

Had you magically somehow transported into the show’s universe? Was that it? Or had they transported into yours? Thinking further into this only caused you a hammering headache and you leaned your head against the side of the ambulance.

The nurse tended to your wounds, cleaning the lacerations caused on your arm and hands, all while you stared at Hannibal. He was truly such a beautiful man. With an aristocratic air to him and a demeanor so warm yet cold — akin to a sizzling brownie topped with a scoop of freezing vanilla ice cream.

Your stomach growled a little.

Then Will walked over to you, a look of sympathy in his eyes. “Hey, are you okay?”

You nodded your head. Even though you'd suffered from an almost rape attempt, the fact that you were surrounded by your favorite characters had you over the moon. The complexities of your own emotions were all over the place and enough to drive you mad.

Will analyzed you.

You were far from okay.

Your hair a mess, covered in dirt and some dried leaves poked through. Clothes torn all over, exposing glimpses of your flesh and dirty skin. It was clear you'd been the man's captive for days, if not – weeks. Will felt angry at himself for his incompetence for not being able to track the serial rapist down any faster than he did.

Despite the mess you were, both men noticed there was this subtle smile on your face. Everytime you laid your eyes on Hannibal, your cheeks flourished and your smile threatened to widen.

Will looked at Hannibal. “A moment, Hannibal?”

The man nodded, walking to the side with Will. Eyeing him, with utter curiosity. “Doctor, is she going to be alright?”

Hannibal looked at you and then at Will, slowly nodding his head. He didn't want to inform Will just yet about how deeply you knew them and their team. He was curious and wanted to pry more into this, especially the way you looked at him.

Like a lost puppy finally finding its way to his owner.

You were soon taken to the hospital and after a thorough check up, the doctor ruled you to be completely fine. Just minor lacerations that were tended to and you were let go. Outside the hospital, you stood with Hannibal and Will.

An arm wrapped around you.

Hannibal exchanged a glance with Will then he turned to you. “Let me take you home, miss.”

You blinked.

You had no home, especially not here.

In the real world, your home was far from here and if you tried to explain that to Hannibal, he'd only assume you to have gone mad under the suffering of a heinous crime. So you lied, straight through your teeth.

“I have no home.” it wasn't actually a lie as you technically did not have a home in this world, oblivious to your whole life and what character you actually were. Hannibal looked at Will and then the two nodded.

“Then, can I take you to my home? It is not safe for you to be alone, especially after facing such a.. dark side of humanity.” You were not going to decline at all. Especially knowing you were a huge fan of Hannibal, everything related to him intrigued you.

The man was taken aback by the enthusiasm decorating your face when you'd heard his offer and you nodded your head, rather eagerly. He'd lead you to his car after you were completely taken care of. Hannibal’s car smelled like him, like nature and art and your couldn't help but relish in it.

He stole glances from you, finding you intriguing.

Reaching his home, your poorly contained excitement was blossoming like tulips across your face. All the furniture, the interior, the color of the walls – exactly the same as you'd seen it in on a screen. Your lips were stretched in a delightful smile, analyzing his humble abode.

“You have a beautiful house.” Your compliment made Hannibal swoon a little. “I prefer your office more though. It is very dark, suits you much more. Your bedroom is completely in contrast to both areas — it is more of a green shade rather than hues of blues and browns.”

Hannibal blinked a little.

You knew what his bedroom looked like?

He wasn't creeped out by you getting all the little color palettes correct, but you were too good at it. How was it possible, for you to be this good at it when you hadn't been to his house at all? Hannibal was at a loss of words for the first time ever in his life.

“Have you been here before?”

You shook your head. “First time and I must say, the cameras don't do it justice.”

The camera?

Were you a damn stalker?

Hannibal ran his tongue over his lips, contemplating whether to confront you about knowing his home this well or to let you dwell deeper into your passion for him and his home.

“You're a peculiar one.” He said, before disappearing inside his room. The man came back with a fresh set of clothes — his clothes and your eyes widened with pure excitement upon seeing your favorite V neck red sweatshirt and the pair of loose pants. You recalled back to the episode in which he wore that and you'd fallen entirely in love with him.

“I love this sweater.” You said, a bright smile clipped on your face. “You looked absolutely handsome in it, Hannibal. I must get changed this instant.”

And then you left. Wandering into his house like you'd been here before, like you knew which turn landed you in which part of the house. It was all too overwhelming, even for a man like him and he'd ruled you as a stalker. There was no way you could know so much, this much about him.

When you came back dressed in the outfit, Hannibal swallowed. The sweater was twice your size, slipping down your shoulders and exposing them. Your marred skin awakening a stab of a prominent ache within him as he drank you in.

“I shall prepare dinner.” He said, nodding his head and a smile of amusement etched itself to your face. You knew what he was going to cook, what he'd feed you and present to you on the table.

The idea should've grossed you out.

Instead it thrilled you.

Your sweater paws flapping here and there when you moved, following him into the kitchen like a lost pet. Hannibal didn't like your presence there — especially when he was cooking yet you sat there on a stool, watching him perform a macabre of food.

Hannibal retrieved a packet from his freezer, a well preserved heart.

You tilted your head. “Who's heart is it?”

His movements came to a halt when the words fell from your lips. He registered the dark meaning lingering behind your words and then he reached over for the knife. His action made you sigh, as you shook your head.

“I have not spoken a word about this to anyone, Doctor nor will I.” You said, looking at him with your puppy like gaze. His fingers loosened around the knife when he witnessed the raw loyalty you were willing to owe him, your eyes giving away your emotions.

Hannibal pulled open the bag and began to cook, all while you watched. With strong enthusiasm, lips stretched into a grin. Hannibal’s cooking was flawless. How he moved so swiftly like he was born with the skill. Your eyes ran across his revealed arms, loving the way his sleeves were rolled up.

“You have beautiful arms.” You commented and Hannibal acknowledged you with a simple glance.

To him, you were no less than some new species of an animal he'd discovered buried somewhere in a forest. The way you spoke, how serene you were despite knowing that what he was cooking was a human heart. Aware of his murders, of his cannibalistic tendencies.

Yet you stayed glued to your stool to watch him cook.

He found it almost, endearing.

“I really like the way you cook. I think it holds a certain type of beauty which is entirely unexplainable. It can be only felt — deep in the bones and the heart, when you perform it.” You were practically swooning over him and Hannibal took note of that. Flattery was definitely getting you somewhere.

Hannibal knew he was handsome, intelligent and beyond the basic understanding of many men.

But no one had praised him this openly, this straight forward and upfront. You were like a breath of fresh air for him as you did not speak in metaphors at all. Something he was not used to at all.

“Thank you, Darling.” He sent a short lived smile and you fucking melted.

Seeing the smile lines form was like an arrow shot straight to your heart.

He'd finished cooking and then he ushered you to the dining room. A few moments later Hannibal arrived with the food decorated in a trolley and began to serve you. Knowing that the food was made out of your own species, you scrunched your nose.

Then you looked at Hannibal.

“I've never had human meat.” You whispered, toying with the hem of your terribly oversized sleeve. Hannibal understood your queasiness, it wasn't everyday that he found people that were as accepting and forthcoming as you were regarding what he was and who he was.

He couldn't force you to eat it.

He wanted you to accept that part on your own terms. “I have arranged side dishes. Vegetables and rice, please have that.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you.”

Hannibal had barely known you for a few hours yet he was already beginning to become fond of you. Not only were you polite but you did not treat him differently and somehow you knew everything about him. He couldn't possibly let you go.

For the first time he saw possibility for camaraderie.

Hannibal, once done serving you, now served himself the meat. You watched as he carefully sliced into it and then stabbed it with his fork, bringing it to his lips. Your own wrapped around the metal spoon, chewing the rice drenched in a thich gravy of potatoes and tomatoes. It was delicious, the second it collided against your taste buds. Blossoming like sunflowers underneath the sun and melting like ice beneath the rays of the scorching sun.

“It's so good.” You cheerfully said, nodding your head as eagerly you collected more rice in your spoon. Hannibal smiled and muttered a thank you, continuing to eat his own meal.

You looked around the room, chewing on the potatoes. Cheeks swollen with food and Hannibal awed at the sight. You were completely different than him, a being entirely opposite of him. You'd definitely come from a different world as he never ever found people like you in his.

He couldn't help but become curious once more. Hawk like eyes following your every little move. From the twitch of your eyes to the bright, gleaming smile adorning your features.

“Is there something that you don't know about me?” He asked, an eyebrow lifted.

You ran over wet tongue over your lips and nodded. “Did you kill the people who harmed your sister, Mischa?”

Hannibal’s fork which scraped against the ceramic plate stopped. His head rising up, to face you. There is nothing on his face but the way he's turning the fork between his fingers gives away that he is indeed feeling something.

“Yes.” Hannibal responded, calmly.

Then he went back to eating and that's all you needed to know.

Dinner came to an end when you were both done and Hannibal lead you to his guest room. Giving you a brief lecture on what item is where and if you have any late night cravings to satisfy, there are snacks in the cupboard of his kitchen.

You felt almost like a child.

“Goodnight, Darling.” His little term of endearment simply came from his politeness but god, it madd you feek all gummy and jelly inside. You could only blush at his words, cheeks hearing up like a pie in the microwave, swelling up due to the large smiles you were practically shooting his way.

Hannibal departed from the guest room and you dropped on the bed, arms extending out to grasp on to the thick blanket for some sort of comfort. Being surrounded by Hannibal and all the characters that you thought were once fiction, it was all overbearing a little and had made you forget about the horrifying event that'd taken place.

You didn't want to go back to your world at all.

As dangerous as this universe was.

It still provided you with some comfort.

Falling asleep wasn't difficult at all, as Hannibal’s mattress was extremely comfortable. The problem raised when you began to suffer from a nightmare about your traumatic event, how the man had you cornered and what he was going to do you.

Your breath was uneven, body sweaty and goosebumps littered everywhere when you jolted up. Head nearly hitting the headboard but a pillow prevented the silly accident of yours. Tears had emerged from your waterline and you brought your knees to your chest, finding solace in hiding your face there.

Your soft sniffles echoed down the hallway and into Hannibal’s room. The man already couldn't sleep, the only thing on his mind being you but when he heard your soft cries, he didn't waste a single moment throwing the blanket off him and slipping on his dark silk robe.

He strolled down the hallway where your room was and found the door already agape.

So he stepped inside, staring at you, as your body shook violently from the overwhelming tears and cries. Hannibal’s presence was difficult to avoid and you slowly lifted your head, finding him there in the doorway. The man contemplated whether to closs the distance between him and your bed.

He sighed and walked over.

“I'm scared.” Your voice was low, a painful whisper of horror. Hannibal sat down besides you on the bed and instinctively you moved, allowing him further space to occupy right next to you. You laid your head on his chest when he extended his arms, tears seeping into the silky fabric.

His hand ran up and down your hair, to soothe you. “You're safe now. That monster has been apprehended.”

“I know. I'm fine but I had a nightmare.. It was so—” You hiccuped, burying your face in his chest. “real. I could feel his touch.”

Hannibal held you against him. This confused him. He was never a man to showcase his affections like this but here he was. Holding you, caressing you, calming you down as if that were his only priority. He couldn't understand why he took you in, despite your weird nature of accumulated knowledge about him.

He couldn't abandon you.

He couldn't let Will have you too.

Time passed by. As your cries died down and silence was restored in the room, he took a peek down and found you asleep. Lips parted to let our soft little even breaths, arms tightly wrapped around his torso. Hannibal leaned his head on yours, thumb stroking the side of your cheek.

He himself found it difficult to stay awake and fell asleep with you copped up like a lamb in a wolf’s sharp teeth.

[softieekayy]

Intertwined

Hannibal Lecter x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Hannibal Lecter was a stoic man with stoic impressions. He did his job, he left and he came home. Not many people knew much about him and the one who did, Will Graham, was a mystery of his own.

Having said that, there was one person who knew his entire soul, for their souls were entangled with each other. Hannibal’s wife. She knew him and his antics like the back of her hand. It was to be expected, especially since they’ve known eachother since Hannibal was a young man in medical school and her a young teenage girl with a crush on him. He never entertained it through, no, he always taught her things that she found useful later in life. It was fate who decided that they would spend the rest of their lives together.

Hannibal would do anything for his wife, she was his sun, moon and entire universe. He worshiped the floor she walked on. Not to mention that the young Mrs. Lecter was a beautiful woman with shiny hair and satin like skin. She was ethereal and people often thought she was an angel posing as one of their kind simply because of her beauty. Her beauty didn’t end physically, not at all. The young woman was a saint. She wouldn't hurt a fly, in fact, she would nourish it and then set it free.

“Why is he so hard to cut up!” (Y/n) whined to her husband, stomping down her expensively clad feet in a tantrum, blood seeping into her satin, champagne coloured shirt, staining the material. In one hand she held a butcher's knife with blood coating it, the body beneath her indicating the frustration she very obviously felt.

“Well, darling” Hannibal grunted, “cutting people with knives like this isn’t easy.”

“Yeah I see that now, my love.” She muttered back, reverting to her former position on her knees and hacking away at Mr. Zaine Lammer’s arm. A disgusting man he was, objectifying Hannibal’s wife to him. The dinner the couple held was for charity. Just because they killed people didn’t mean they were monsters. (Y/n) still loved and cared about children and would never harm them, they can be tuned and molded into anything you’d like. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for adults.

Hannibal looked over to his, completely entranced by the pure and utter annoyance on her face. She knew Hannibal killed, it wasn’t a secret to her. She’s helped with the crimes. However, (Y/n) preferred the killing and setting up the scene part, she did not like the hacking away at the body. No, she left that to her dear husband to do. Not that Hannibal minded. He’d prefer for her to not get touched by the blood of filth.

“Ugh. I give up. I can’t do this anymore.” The young woman stated, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Hannibal laughed at his wife’s reaction, making her glare at him.

“Don’t laugh at me Hans!” She told him, a small smile threatening to break out on her face. Hannibal looked at her, not saying anything but rather just observing. His wife was the most beautiful lady to have ever walked the earth. An angel that was put amongst sinners. He put down his knife and walked over to her, putting one arm around her waist and tugging her closer to his body, her hands resting on his chest.

“Hi.” She whispered softly with an equally soft smile gracing her face.

“Hello.” Hannibal whispered back, leaning down to steal a quick kiss from his wife.

He remembers meeting her like yesterday. She was a young little thing, younger than him, about 8-9 years or so. Yet when Hannibal saw her, she was the most beautiful person he’d ever set eyes on. The young woman had just been coming into the book store, soaked from the rain outside, hair sticking to her face and yet she still had a smile painted on her dark red lips. Hannibal watched her as she greeted the older man who ran the shop warmly before shedding her coat to let it hang. She turned around and caught Hannibal staring yet she gave him a smile too. Her quick movements reminded Hannibal of a cat, yet when he looked into her eyes for a brief moment, he saw his own reflection.

“I’ve never seen you around here.” She tells him, running her fingers across the spines of books before pulling one out. It was an old book with a forest green cover.

“I don’t live here, I’m just here to visit my aunt.” Hannibal didn’t tell her that Lady Murasaki was long dead and that he was just here to visit her grave. His aunt was a crucial part of his life, she shaped him into the man he is today.

The young woman nodded in acknowledgment, her hair moving along with it.

“Well it’s nice to meet you..” She trailed off, waiting for Hannibal to introduce himself.

“Hannibal lecter.” The older man introduced himself, shaking her hand gently. It was as soft as she looked. In return (Y/n) introduced herself. The two grabbed their books and spoke about everything and anything. Hannibal learned that she went to medical school here and frequented this bookstore often, hence her close relationship with the owner. Hannibal told her of Lady Murasaki and how he’s in charge of keeping her home. Before they knew it, time had passed and it was the dead of night, Hannibal walked her home and from there it took them to now. A married couple.

“We should really clean up.” (Y/n) grimaced, pulling away from Hannibal’s embrace to look at the mess on the floor. Hannibal agreed with her, the blood won’t come out easily if it’s been too long.

Hannibal pulled away from the embrace and went back to chopping up the man while his wife began to mix the solutions for cleaning.

Within another hour or so they were done. (Y/n) stood at the entrance of the basement with her hands over her hips, heaving lightly from all the scrubbing she did. Her once neatly done hair was now falling out of its place messily. Hannibal disposed of the meat in the freezer before walking back to his wife and kissing her on the side of her head, gently leading her upstairs with his hand on the small of her back.

“With all that leftover meat, we ought to have another dinner party. There’s only so much we alone can eat.” (Y/n) grumbled to Hannibal as they both reached the first floor of their home. She walked into the kitchen and took out two wine glasses before pouring her and Hannibal some.

“I agree.” Hannibal nodded. “We should invite Will, Jack Crawford and Alana Bloom for dinner these days.” He finished, taking a sip of his wine, watching his wife’s stare on him harden.

“You know I don’t like her yet you keep inviting her. Don’t be surprised if she ends up as our dinner one day.” (Y/n) warns him, anger seeping through her voice. The young brunette clearly had a crush on Hannibal, everyone around her could tell. Hannibal used that crush to manipulate her. His wife on the other hand, wasn't too fond of another woman making heart eyes at someone who belonged to her.

“You worry for no reason, even in death my heart will belong to you. Alana Bloom can’t match your intelligence or grace.” Hannibal comforted his wife, running his hand up and down her arm and she tucked herself closer into him. The younger woman hummed in response, taking Hannibal’s hand in her own and playing around with his fingers.

“I still don’t like her. That smug little face she makes towards me whenever you talk to her. All I can think about at that moment is how nice my hair pin would look coated in her blood.” (Y/n)‘s hand clutched tightly around Hannibal’s as she thought about Alana bloom. The brunette woman never failed to enrage Hannibal’s wife.

“She’s not worth you pretty little thoughts.” The older man told his wife, dragging his nose from the back of her neck to the side of her head, planting a living kiss. (Y/n) smiled slyly, turning her body to face him fully.

“You think me wanting to feel Alana’s blood on my hands is pretty?” She asked him, still smiling and toying with his hair. Hannibal latched his arm around her waist and pulled her atop him.

“I think everything you do is pretty.” He tells her and she hums. The two sit in silence for a while, sipping on their wine. No need for mindless chatter, being by each other's side was all that they needed. Hannibal knew that his wife would never betray him under any circumstances and she knew that Hannibal would never do anything to harm her. However they both knew that to drag attention away from one another, they may need to harm each other. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, it ripped Hannibal’s heart apart to even think about hurting his pretty little wife. His pretty wife with doe eyes. His pretty wife with a sinister smile. The two were a match in every sense possible, both hunters who enjoyed the art of killing. They were skilled and under Hannibal’s expertise and care, his young wife went from an amateur to someone just as talented as Hannibal.

“It's getting late, moonshine.” Hannibal uttered into her hair, nosing her hairline. She was wrapped around him, like a cat. Hannibal thought that if reincarnation was real then his wife must’ve been a cat in her past life.

“Yes, honey, I know. However there are no plans set in place for tomorrow.” She grinned, turning around and crawling onto him fully now. Hannibal held his wife by the waist, grinning.

“Are you suggesting we stay up late tonight Mrs. Lecter?” He asked her, caressing her hair. The two smiled like a lovesick teen age couple. So in love that it made others sick. Jack Crawford was one of them, he’d known the famous Mrs. Lecter since he’d met Hannibal.

“Yes I am. In fact, I’m suggesting that we go out for some ice cream.” She tells him, running a finger down the buttons of his shirt. Hannibal gasps in faux shock.

“Scandalous. You’re so very scandalous.” He tells her, shaking his head in disappointment. They both know it’s just an act anyway, Hannibal would bend over back wards for her. (Y/n) giggled before getting up and grabbing her coat. She waited for Hannibal to join her giddily, like a child who had far too much sugar.

“Shall we go?” Hannibal asked her, offering his arm for her to hold. (Y/n)’s hand softly tucked itself into the crook of Hannibal's arm as they headed out. Into the dark of the night, like wolves hunting for prey.

Tagging my lovelies: @jake-g-lockley @shawty-writes-a-little <3

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hi,

could you write a one-shot , where the female reader is an FBI student (one of Will‘s)and due to Will being sick, Hannibal takes over and that‘s how they met for the first time. The reader then get‘s called into the field and needs a psych. evaluation done by Dr.Lecter. A few months later they are together abd remember how they first met.(with smut?)

Tender beginnings

Hannibal X Reader

Warnings: smut, fluff, domish Hannibal (not really though), kissing, pet names, fingering, oral (f receiving), penetration ( p in v), no use of y/n

Word count: 1,7K

“Will you are never going to believe what i-oh.” 

You stopped mid sentence eyes falling on a strange figure. You look at the sign by the door thinking perhaps you’ve entered the wrong class room but upon further evaluation you were in the right place. The only thing missing was Will. The stranger turned to look at you.

“One of Wills' students I presume.”

“Yes and you are?”

“Hannibal Lecter. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

You took Hannibal's hand giving it a shake.

“Is Will okay?”

“Yes he’s fine. Recovering from a small flu. He should be back on his feet in no time.”

“You’re filling in for him?”

“Yes, I'll be taking over for him this week.”

“You might have a tough time.”

“Why’s that?”

“Wills one hell of a teacher. Not so sure you can live up to him.”

He should have been offended by your words but he could see you were just being coy. And he’d only just met you there was still time to prove you wrong. As much as you adored Will, you had to admit Hannibal was a good teacher. He made it through the week with little issue. On the last day of his class you stayed a bit longer, wanting to talk to him before he left.

“You proved me wrong.”

Hannibal smiled to himself before turning to face you.

“Did I please you?”

“Eh you were alright.”

You gave him a coy smile, a silent way of telling him you were only teasing. 

“It was nice meeting you Hannibal Lecter. Maybe I'll see you around?”

“Maybe you will.”

You had no idea how right you had been with your prediction of meeting Hannibal again. A couple of months after he filled in for Will you were given the official welcome in the FBI. Becoming an agent meant a lot of things and one of them included having a steady mind. So you were asked to have a psych evaluation done, a last step into your journey to become an agent. 

And who would be your psychiatrist? 

Well none other than Hannibal Lecter.

“Seems fate keeps pulling me towards you.”

“Perhaps it’s merely because you and i both work for the FBI”

“Maybe. But they could have sent me to other psychiatrists. Yet here I am. I’d say fate doesn't seem that far off.”

Hannibal shook his head, gesturing for you to take a seat.  You’d done psych evaluations before, they were mandatory for you to begin your training, but this one felt different. Hannibal seemed to ask you questions that didn’t have a lot to do with your state of mind and more to do with you as a person. Maybe that was the moment you should have realized his interest in you but you remained oblivious until he, very directly, asked for your number.

“What are you thinking about over there?”

You turned your head to look at Hannibal. He was laying on the bed the book he’d been reading moments ago rested on his lap. 

“Just remembering how we met.”

Hannibal got up from the bed moving over to the vanity you were sitting in. He placed his hands on your shoulder giving a kiss to the top of your head. You looked at him through the mirror observing as his reflection smiled down at you.

“What did you first notice about me?”

“Your confidence.”

“Come on Hannibal, I'm being serious.”

“So am i. You never notice it but the way you walk into the room shows everyone who sees you just how strong you are. It’s one of the things that captivated me about you.”

You turn your body in your seat, allowing you to face Hannibal. He moved his hand to cup your chin, his thumb stroking your cheek. Your reach forward Wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your chin on his stomach. 

“You really mean it?”

“Of course I do, dear.”

You hum against Hannibal's skin, your hands moving against his back in circles. Your brows furrow as you think and Hannibal notices immediately. His finger moves to caress the line in between your brows causing you to snicker before gazing up at him lovingly.

“Can you imagine if Will had never gotten the flu? I would have never met you.”

“That's not true.”

“Of course it is Hannibal. If we hadn’t met in that class room you probably wouldn’t have asked for my number and we wouldn’t be together.”

“But we are together dear.”

“I know. I just can’t help thinking about it. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“You will never have to. I’m right here. Let me prove it to you.”

Hannibal Moved his hands underneath your armpits, lifting you off the chair with ease. You wrapped your legs around his waist, clinging to his body as he walked over to the bed. He placed you in the bed gently. You watched him sink to his knees, his hand moving to grip your ankles. He gave your body a tug, forcing you to move closer to the edge of the bed. You leaned up on your elbows, eyeing Hannibal for a moment. He felt your gaze on him causing his eyes to find yours.

“Lay down dear. Relax while I taste you.”

You knew better than to deny Hannibal the pleasure of tasting you. He enjoyed eating you out just as much as you did. You settled against the silk sheets, closing your eyes. Hannibal widened your legs, moving the shirt you used as pajamas up until your bare body was revealed to him. You usually slept without underwear and this time was no different. Hannibal stared at your pussy, taking in the sight before inching his finger closer. You body jolted up as you felt him play with your folds. A small moan escaped your lips as he continued to toy with you for a moment. His hands caressed your thighs as he inched his face closer to your pussy. 

Your hands latched onto Hannibal's hair as his face finally came into contact with your body. His tongue moved over your folds slowly. He always liked going slow when it came to you. He would only move at a rougher or more rapid pace if you asked him. His tongue entered your core, causing you to shudder at the feeling. Hannibal lapped at your pussy for a while before adding his fingers into the mix. You let out a moan as his fingers plunged into you.

“Oh Hannibal! Yes there right there-fuck…”

His lips moved to suck on your clit as his fingers continued to move against you. Your hands clawed at the sheets as you felt your orgasm creep up on you. With every moan you let out the quicker Hannibal moved his fingers inside you until finally your body couldn’t take it anymore. You came onto Hannibals face with a scream of his name, your hands flexing against the bed before finally relaxing. Hannibal moved back, resting on his knees for a moment as he observed you come down from your high. You put your finger out, motioning for him to come to you. He did as you requested, his body moving to crawl on top of you until you were face to face. His face glistened with your juices. You leaned forward licking his chin before tugging him into a needy kiss. 

You could feel Hannibal’s hard-on nudge against your bare skin. You placed your hand on his chest, guiding it down until you felt his dick in your hand. You gave him a cheeky smile, biting your lip as you caressed him through his boxers. Hannibal grunted, his nose scrunching as his desire for you grew. You moved to whisper against his ear.

“I think I still need you to prove to me you’re mine.”

Hannibal laughed at your words, leaning his head against yours.

“Gladly dear.”

You watched him move off the bed, removing his boxers before climbing back on top of you. He placed his hands on your legs, lifting them up so that your knees were bent. You widen your legs for him, making it easier for him to line his dick up with your pussy. Your mouth opened in a silent moan as he sunk into you slowly. You could hear the deep breath he took as he bottomed out. Hannibal grabbed your wrists, forcing your hands to move above your head. 

“You ready for me?”

All you could do was nod for him, the feeling of fullness he gave you turning your mind to mush. He moved forwards with one sharp thrust waiting for a moment before removing his dick almost entirely and plunging back into you. You squealed as he fucked into you, desperately trying to grab onto his body but the grip he had on your wrists stopped you.

“Behave. Or I won't make you cum.”

You stopped squirming at Hannibal's words. You knew he was all talk but you couldn't help but do as he said. He rewarded you for your good behavior of course, his hips moving faster against you. The bed cracked as Hannibal continued his movements. Your legs wove against his waist, trying to get him closer to you. 

“Hannibal, I'm close. I- ah- shit!”

“Come on dear, cum for me.”

You gushed onto Hannibal's dick, your walls clenching around him. He released your wrist, his hand moving to grip the bed frame for better leverage. Your body moved as he began to roughly thrust into you. Overstimulation started to get to you but before it started to get too bad Hannibal's orgasm washed over him. His body sagged into yours, his weight falling onto your body. You enjoyed the feeling, it reminded you he was real. He nuzzled his nose into your collarbone placing a kiss there before rolling off you. The two of you lay in silence for a moment. You felt Hannibal's hand around you, tugging your body closer to his. You snuggled up against his frame, moving to place a kiss to his cheek.

“Promise you’ll always be mine?”

Hannibal stroked your hair as he looked at you lovingly.

“I swear.”