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Breach {Hannibal Lector x Reader x Will Graham Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2572 Summary: You’re in a poly relationship with both Hannibal and Will. A fundraiser that you have all been asked to attend is coming up. What happens while getting ready, and how would these men react to someone giving you a little more attention than they should?

Polyamory. It was something that was little understood, even if it was one of the most wonderful things in the world. Some people, like you, just had so much love to give, and found it hard to just be with one person since it could get overwhelming for them. There were many stupid questions asked. Do they get jealous? Of other people, sure, but not of each other. Are you really so greedy to have these two handsome men to yourself? Yes, yes you were. Are you just playing the field because you aren’t ready to commit? Uhh - you were pretty committed, thank you. If you didn’t love these men so much, and enjoy talking about them because they were on your mind all of the time, you would probably just stop bringing them up entirely. But alas. Someone mentions food, you thought of Hannibal. Someone mentions a crime, you think of Will. Someone talks about sex, oh, your mind was on both of them.

You just preferred to think of yourself as a lucky woman who has two handsome men by your side, and each one of them was a lucky man to have you and a handsome man by their side. It wasn’t that they both loved you and had nothing to do with each other. You all loved each other very dearly. Enough that you didn’t feel jealous when they had little dates of their own. You would just pester them for all of the cute details afterwards.

But tonight, for a fundraiser for the FBI, the three of you were together, dressed up in your finest duds. Will had been the first to be ready, a maroon shirt, and a wool jacket, looking well put together. He kept it simple. His curls were held back with a bit of gel, and he’d sit cross legged on the bed and watch you and Hannibal finish getting ready. Hannibal was a more formal person, wearing a proper suit in a dark blue color. Red handkerchief sticking fashionably out of the pocket. You had helped him to comb his hair back as he sat in front of the vanity that had been meant for you, but he seemed to use it just as much.

“Are you going to shave him too?” Will asked, a little miffed since you hadn’t helped him comb his hair. Hannibal had done that. You smiled over in his direction, and made a little tutting noise.

“Do you need a shave, Mr. Lector?” You asked, touching Hannibal’s cheeks. They were already smooth, those glorious cheekbones protruding out. “No, I don’t think you do. A hint of blush maybe, but -”

“You and Will already do that for me,” Hannibal said smoothly, pulling you onto his lap. “I think we’re all ready.”

“I don’t even have my dress on yet,” You said, rolling your eyes. You were still wearing the silk night-robe that had been a gift from Mischa. And nothing under it. Which Hannibal knew, for his hands were inching up in that direction. You looked over to Will for help but received nothing but an amused smirk on the usually dour face. He wasn’t going to put a stop to this. To Hannibal’s hand slipping up your soft thigh, going up and up until -

Until you had to jump off of his lap with a laugh. “We are definitely going to be late if you keep that up, Han,” You said, and combed back a stray hair with your fingers until it was back in it’s perfect place. “I’ll go and get that dress now.”

“You can forget the underwear,” Will chimed in as you walked over to the walk in closet that had sections for all three of you. You closed the door behind you to tease them both, hearing groans coming out from the other side. You laughed to yourself and pulled the garment bag off of tonight’s gown. It was your favorite color, of course - if you were going to dress up, you were going to do so nicely. It reached down to the floor, where it would just cover the shoes that you would be wearing tonight. It wasn’t too revealing, but it was strapless - you wanted your arms and shoulders free in case of dancing. Or for more space for your handsome men to be kissing as they so often loved to do. You did put on a strapless bra, but just to tease them, just to feel a little naughty, you did forgo the underwear tonight.

You slipped the dress on. It was still the perfect fit from when you had tried it on at the store. You smoothed out any wrinkles, and turned in front of the mirror. You weren’t always a confident person, a little more on the bookish and geeky side - never the cheerleader in high school but - but you felt beautiful in that gown. You did a twirl, watching how the bottom flared out wonderfully.

“Are you alright?” Hannibal’s voice was at the door.

“Just putting on shoes,” You would call out to them, and quickly grab the shoebox. The heels were short - you were a member of the FBI, not a supermodel. A kitten heel, they called it. It added just a little to your height, and you felt comfortable enough to walk around in it. You finally made your debut out of the bedroom, your hair and make up already done, and the dress adding the icing on the cake.

Will stood up from the bed and gave a clap, while Hannibal took your hand and gave you a little twirl. “Does that mean you like it?” You asked, a smile stretching across your face.

“You look great,” Will assured, coming up and taking one of your arms in his.

“Good enough to eat,” Hannibal added, sending a shiver up your spine. He took your other arm now, and the three of you, the FBI’s most famous throuple, were ready to go.

-

Jack’s loud voice had taken over the room. He was laughing with someone, Beverly, it looked like. There were others that you recognized around the room - Caroline, who had always been jealous of you, Jimmy and Brian hanging out together as usual.

“I’m going to grab a glass of wine,” You said, looking to the bar. “Do you want anything?"

“I’m good, thanks,” Will would say, letting go of your waist as he was beckoned over by Jack and by Beverly. He’d give you a peck on the cheek, the light smell of his aftershave lingering in the air beside your nose. Amongst all of these people, you would be able to sniff him out like the dogs that he loved so much. You looked up towards Hannibal, waiting for his answer, but his attention seemed to be elsewhere.

“The same as you,” He would say, looking distracted. “Alana is calling me over. I’ll join you in a moment,” He said, his hand brushing the back of his waist as he would leave to go and talk to the woman. Alana - oh how you wanted to like her but for some reason, you just could not. But she was none of your concern tonight. You were feeling good about yourself. You would feel even better when your men would join you. You stepped towards the bar, keeping your balance on those little heeled shoes. You held up your hand in a wave to Jimmy and Brian who were talking over on the other end. They gave you friend waves back. Oh, those boys. They were both brilliant and funny. Good comic relief on the occasions that you needed it. Which you did quite a bit working in this field.

You ordered yourself a glass of wine. Get two psychiatrists talking and they’ll be busy for the rest of the night. This you knew from experience. The bartender gave it to you in a fancy glass - apparently the FBI are really splurging tonight for this fundraiser. You had all donated what you had, Hannibal doing the most since he had more money. But since you and Will had moved in with him, you had been cutting costs as well. Maybe it wasn’t the highest donation in the bank tonight but you felt good about it. Giving back to the job that helped you catch the bad guys. That had brought you to your two men. That had made your life so, so good.

“How about you let me buy you that drink?” An unfamiliar man said, coming up next to you. You laughed, flattered of course, but shook your head.

“That won’t be necessary. I’m more than capable,” You said, taking your wallet out of your bag, but he beat you to it - putting a twenty dollar bill on the counter.

“For charity,” He said with a shrug. You gave in - it wasn’t as if he was touching your actual drink. And you would not let him at all, knowing better in this profession. When the bartender handed it to you, you held it up as a toast to the stranger.

“As a member of the FBI, I thank you for your charitable donation,” I said with a laugh. I then took a sip of it, swirling the rich red wine on my tongue to indulge in the taste. Yes, it might meet Hannibal’s standards. His were higher than that of the average person. Will was much more of a beer person. Hannibal was trying to convert him. You were good with either. But this fancy occasion seemed to warrant the more sophisticated drink.

“I’m Gerard, Gerard Bradshaw, owner of The Virginian Pilot,” He introduced. Ahh, a journalist slash businessman. You had detected something perhaps a little slimy. But you were a nice person and would not let it show on your face that you thought such things. You introduced yourself in return, and told him your role in the FBI.

As you had thought, your men had gotten caught up in conversations of their own. Your eyes rested on Hannibal, speaking with Alana and another person who was more than likely a psychiatrist. And then you looked over to Will, who was speaking with Jack and his wife, Beverly having gone elsewhere for conversation. A band was playing, the music ever so subtle in the background. Barely able to hear it, but at the same time, it created a melody inside of your head. So you continued on with your own conversation with Mr. Bradshaw.

“Having a relationship with the press is more important now than ever,” He was saying. “The police, even at the FBI level are not getting the public’s respect-” You tried to be interested. You really did. But even this was starting to cross the border between being friendly and just being bored. But then he picked things up. “Perhaps if someone like - you, for example, was the face of the FBI, people might get excited for it again.”

“Really?” You asked, amused. “Why would my face in particular excite people?”

“Well, for one, you are a woman,” He started.

“Your profession has been chosen well, Mr. Bradshaw. I can see that you are observant. Very important in journalism.” You noted.

He laughed, as if you had been telling a joke. “And - you are a beautiful one at that.”

“You don’t think there’s anything beautiful about our Jack?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “I think that he’s the perfect representative of our department. He is smart, he’s strong, he’s-”

“A man,” Mr. Bradshaw said. Ahh. You were beginning to see his angle. Did he think that because you appeared to be alone here, you were some sort of radical feminist? That he could get your attention by bashing the men that you worked with? “No, wouldn’t it be great if it was you? Miss Y/N Y/L/N, written in the headlines...” His hand touched yours, his index finger swirling over the top of your hand. You laughed a little uneasily, but you instantly felt better when someone touched your waist in the most familiar of ways.

“I think you will find that it is Mrs. Y/N Y/L/N,” Hannibal said from behind you in a curt tone. “I’m sorry I took so long, darling, Alana Bloom was asking me about the best way to season a rabbit.”

“Hey princess,” Will said, poking up behind Mr. Bradshaw. You were smiling now. Your knights in shining armor. “I think I’ll take a drink after all.”

Will turned to the bartender, someone who had worked these events before and had clearly picked up on the nature of your relationship with these two men, and he ordered himself a beer.

“I think that a Merlot would suit the occasion much better, Will,” Hannibal would chime in.

“It’s bad enough you put gel in my hair, let me enjoy a beer,” He’d say back. Caught in the middle, Mr Bradshaw looked uncomfortable. He ordered a beer himself, and then decided to play bold.

“Perhaps I waswrong. If you let a man speak for you-”

You could feel Hannibal’s judgment. He hated rudeness. Could not tolerate it in anyone. But you opened your mouth before he could have some biting reply.

“My husbands here don’t speak for me. Hannibal was merely correcting you. It is Mrs.” You explained, still with a friendly smile. Perhaps not legally, but spiritually, the three of you had been married for the past six months. You had a little ceremony. A dinner party with your closest friends. You did not wear a ring on your finger since having two of them on would be bulky, but you did not feel like you needed to put out a symbol of your love. Just being around them was enough for anyone with eyes. Or so you thought.

“Excuse me,” Mr. Bradshaw said, picking up his beer from the bar and went off in a haste. It left you shaking your head and laughing a little. Will took his place, putting his hand on top of yours, as if to try to wipe away where that man had touched you.

“I hate journalists,” Will muttered, still holding onto your hand as he picked up his beer and took a drink under Hannibal’s discontent gaze.

“Yes, they all have that Freddie Lourdes quality to them, don’t they?” You said, taking another sip of your wine. Hannibal held up a finger to the bartender, then pointed at your drink. He soon had his own glass in his hand.

“I think we should have that man for dinner,” Hannibal said, his head turned to watch the man make his way over to someone else. Another woman. Might have the same chat up line for her.

“Hannibal, no,” You said, leaning in against him. “Play nice. It isn’t as if he has much of a career anyway. I’ve never even heard of the Virginian Pilot,” You admitted.

“Trash,” Will muttered. You patted his back lightly and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“No matter - that is what you men get for leaving your wife alone for so long. Don’t go neglecting me again,” You teased.

“Yes ma’am,” Will said, sliding in closer so you were in the middle of the most wonderful sandwich.

“Needy tonight, are we?” Hannibal asked, turning his attention back onto you.

“For your attentions? Always.”

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