#mads mikkelsen reader

[tootiredtobekind]

me if being obsessed with older men was illegal

[venusbyline]

i can fix him (no really i can)

[logansdoe]

Hey! My first time sending a req thing so forgive me if I’ve done this wrong..

However, I’ve grown obsessed with your writing(no, seriously it’s so good omggg)and was wondering if you’d write overstimulated reader x Hannibal?

Hannibal is just so cruel and mean, pounding into you as you’re about to start sobbing..he’s got you in some sort of headlock, grunting in your ear..your begging him to slow down just for a minute and he’s just shushing you and speaking softly into your ear OH MY GOODDD LORDDD

Or he’s holding you close as you whine and shake, his forehead on yours as he tells you “so noisy- shh- my love” 😵‍💫😵‍💫

I’d love to see you write this!! No worries if not!! Love your writing ❤️

urges.

Hannibal had urges. Strong ones. Impulses, even. But that didn't mean he couldn't control them. He always did. For the sake of you.

You were too sweet. Too delicate for his hungry soul. But also too lovely to resist. Your taste, feel, sounds were all he could want, need. It was a craving. Much worse if he went into specifications.

So, it was a surprise when you told him you could feel he was holding back. You were satisfied, of course you were. He made you satisfied. But you could see beneath the mask. Something he often forgets.

He knew you weren't prepared for his urges. But how could he refuse you, his delicate dove, who was agreeing to give into his indulgence?

Perhaps, it was too soon that you asked for it. Because you certainly could not keep up with it.

His hand held onto your shoulder. The other held your hips. the skin denting from applied pressure from his fingers. Already red, perhaps black and blue the next morning.

The sound of skin against skin echoed the walls. Your body jerking forward with every slap of his hips against yours. The room also filled with your cries.

Hands pushing on his thighs, pushing him away. This annoyed Hannibal. His hands left your shoulders and cupped your jaw. Pulling you up, to his chest. Your head against his shoulder as he looked.

He could cum just at the sight of you. Tears running down. Lips bruised from the pressured kisses. Some markings already created from where he nipped before. Mine.

"shh— don't resist, love", he whispered against your ear. His words breathy and airy. You could feel the strained breaths against your now sensitive skin. A shiver running down her whole body. The sheen layer of sweat doing nothing to subside it.

"you wanted this, Didn't you?", he continued. His hips still moving. You could feel the tip dragging across your already bruised inner walls. Your whines get louder.

God, he would have enjoyed those little whimpers from you, any other time. But now, he needed to focus in the feel of you.

His hand slipped from your jaw to over your mouth. Trapping the noises against the barrier of his palm. "You look so beautiful, darling. So. . Pretty", he whispered against your neck.

Pressing kisses until he reached your ear again. "All mine to play with, right? All mine" he groaned. His hand splayed across your stomach as the rock of his hips got harder but slower.

Making you scream into his hand everytime he pushed into you after pulling all the way out. Hannibal leaned back slightly to look down, seeing his cock slip in and out so slowly. Like a sensual dance. Glistening against the low light like the pearls under the night sky.

He wanted to consume you. Ingest you so you'd be a part of him forever. Live in his skin, flesh, mind, heart. Wherever you could reach, he would be yours.

The thoughts ran across his mind. He could feel your tears against his hand. Oh, how he loved to see you broken down. Perhaps, he could never go back from this now.

He needed you like this. So pilant. Like a soft pillow against his sharpened edges. Taking him in with warmth.

Hannibal could feel himself near. His forehead resting against your shoulder. He could feel you trembling. His lips parted as he let out a sharp breath before painting your inner walls with his seed.

His hand slowly released around your mouth as it rested against your neck. He placed soft kisses on your jaw, "so good for me, dove."

He slowly pulled out as he carefully, with gentle caress laid you down against the sheets. Small whimpers left you. He laid besides you. His forehead against yours as he took another breath to calm himself.

"shh, I'm right here. It's alright. . . Always such a good girl for me" he whispered softly. His lips continued to place soft kisses against your cheek and forehead.

He pulled back as he looked at you. Eyes unfocused, lips parted, sweat looking like silver under the moonlight. His hand carefully brushed some of the damp hair away from your face. He got a taste of his urges and now he can't wait to indulge more.

a/n: I love requests. Keep them coming.

also thank you for liking my writings. I just write to distract or to feel productive. 😭‼️

[dolicekiss]

Hi,

I heard you were taking requests again, so I hope you don‘t mind me dropping one here.

Could you please write a story/one-shot, which takes place in the Hannibal universe, where Hannibal falls for one of his patients, who was a victim of a murderer, but managed to escape unscathed. When the murderer resurfaces again, she needs to stay with him and slowly he makes her depend on him. After hearing the news of his latest kill, Hannibal twists/abuses the situation to make her seek comfort from him.(with nsfw?)

Fragile Minds

PAIRING: Dark!Hannibal Lecter X Fem!reader

CONTENT WARNING: SMUT (18+, mdni please), coercion, adult grooming, taking advantage of reader, manipulation, trauma, mention of kidnapping, mention of nightmares, PTSD, gaslighting, age gap (unspecified but legal), unprotected sex, fingering, kissing, choking, bruising, slight fluff, infatuated hannibal who'll do anything to have reader.

Therapy was merely an escape.

For you, it was.

An escape from the people who gave you pitiful looks, sympathizing with you. Feeling bad for a girl like you who suffered from so much at such a young age.

You resented it. Everytime when you'd attend dinners at your relatives’ houses or when your friends would gaze at you with a sad pathetic look, treating you like some fragile little girl who needed extra care. It was all overbearing for you.

Hannibal Lecter’s office was the perfect escape.

He did not see you as some broken little doll, no. Rather he validated you, understood you, listened to you and made you feel comfortable in his presence. The only person who did not look at you with a pitiful, sad gaze.

You saw him as a kind and polite man who attended to your needs, your mental needs and took care of you in a way no one else had ever before.

You'd attended your session again, with a smile on your face. When the door to his office you opened, your smile widened and Hannibal returned it. You simply loved how he had created a safe space for you, how he did care for your well-being. You were his patient so it was his job but at least he was better than all the other people who only saw you as some broken shell.

“Hello.” Hannibal greeted and you nodded your smile, stepping inside. “Good evening, Doctor Lecter.”

His smile lines deepened. “Good evening. How are you feeling today?”

You slid off your leather coat, hanging it over the hook. Hannibal lead you to your seat and you happily followed, a constant routine which you'd gotten used to. Hannibal sat before you, on his own brown leather couch.

“I feel alright." You coyly said, hands toying with each other. Not a sign of discomfort but rather nervousness. Hannibal had made sure that you were comfortable around him.

Hannibal was not a man that was easily swooned away yet he was completely in awe whenever you played with your hands, twisting one finger over the other. That habit of yours was adorable to him, sort of akin to him.

Hannibal tilted his head.

You licked your lips. “I feel alright but I have nightmares about what happened.”

You had sort of disconnected from your trauma as that was the only way you could possibly cope. Hannibal noticed it but he didn't say much, when he should have. It was only to bring you closer to him, to make you depend on him.

“What do the nightmares consist of?”

“Him dragging me through a dark alley and showing me where he'll bury me.” You said all that so nonchalantly, Hannibal knew you hadn't broken up about it yet.

Ever since the incident, you shut everyone out. Felt like discussing about what happened and how it made you feel was not necessary at all and when the FBI advised you to speak to their psychiatrist, in order to help you regain the suppressed memories of the assault you'd encountered, it worked.

Hannibal smiled. “Does it scare you? You have trouble sleeping?”

You blinked, shaking your head. “No, I wake up numb. I was told it is unhealthy to not feel anything regarding this matter.”

“Are you bothered that he has not been apprehended yet?” You nodded your head in response.

You'd nearly died that rainy night. Your perpetrator had fully planned to murder you that night as you were the perfect victim in his followed pattern but somehow you managed to survive. Got away when he was busy digging up your grave.

The feeling that overcame you when you witnessed your own grave, where you'll be buried after your life has been snatched away from you — it was too foreign. A different type of overwhelming fear which consumed you to the point your brain had entirely shut it out.

As traumatized as you were, Hannibal was aware you had not fully coped up with this painful incident. You walked around and pretended like you were fine but he knew he needed to break you, in order to put you back together.

This time, to his own likeness.

“He has not killed anyone after I got away from him. I think he is going to come back for me.” You spoke, tone impassive whenever you spoke about your trauma. “The thought always lingers in the back of my mind, Doctor Lecter.”

The aforementioned tossed one leg over the other and nodded his head, acknowledging your restlessness. “You survived him with your strong will to live. If he is to resurface again, I'm sure you will be able to defend yourself against him.”

Hannibal was right and you knew it. You'd escaped him with the desperate urge to live and that desperation saved your life.

But then Hannibal spoke up again with certain darkness in his voice. “You'll always have me, love. I will be there for you as I always have been.”

You smiled softly.

He was right. He was there — from the beginning to the end. He had coaxed you out of your shell, helped you express your feelings, much more. Hannibal had helped you beyond anything and you felt like you'd forever be in his debt.

Hannibal’s proclivity for protecting you and caring for you stemmed from the romantic feelings he began to develop for you over the course of the past few weeks. The moment he laid his gaze upon you, he knew you were the one.

You'd climbed over the walls around him without even intending to do so. Your little laughs, your interest in seeing the art he'd created with only a pencil, even reaching you calligraphy.

Hannibal was deeply in love and that was not a good sign.

“I appreciate you, Doctor Lecter.” You smiled, teeth showing. The session soon came to an end and you left for your apartment. Hannibal didn't like seeing you go but he had to let you go. There was so much he could do to bring you closer to him and he noticed how you were already beginning to become dependent on him.

He liked that. The taste of freedom was on your tongue but your strings were controlled by Hannibal.

As soon as you reached your apartment, you could only look forward to another session with him. You were entirely blind to how much you had grown attached to Hannibal, how much he affected you and everything in your life.

You only saw the camaraderie he offered you in a time of struggle, pain and utter loneliness.

But little did you know that was the whole plan. Hannibal had been offered a chance at friendship before too but he rejected it, all and everytime though with you, the case was different. He was a lonely man, painfully lonely and he craved company.

Your company.

So when he saw you, he made it his mission to make you depend on him. Grow used to him, attached and fully bonded like you were his mate.

You turned on the TV, hoping you'd be able to relax but your phone dinged. You reached for it, picking it up and unlocking. Eyebrows scrunching up when you saw the link you'd received from an anonymous number.

You contemplated whether to check it or not and your curiosity finally got the best of you when you tapped on it. It took you to an article — by Freddie Lounds.

Your blood ran cold when you read the contents of it. Fingers losing their strength and your phone slipping out of their grasp, hitting the couch. You blinked profusely, hoping that this was a lie but you were all aware that no matter how problematic Freddie Lounds was, she delivered real events and not some made up ones.

The article included of your killer — finally risen again, taking another victim. Your breathing grew uneven, all the memories your brain had locked out now freeing themselves.

Shattered breathing and a thumping heart reminded you of your suppressed fears when the anesthesia of your mind had wore off.

Body beginning to oscillate on the couch, your teeth ripped the skin off your lips, causing them to bleed. Panic had filled you up.

You were next. You knew it.

In this vulnerable moment, you knew only one person that was capable of calming you down and that was Hannibal Lecter. You didn't think for a moment, grabbing your car keys and heading for the door.

Seeing the weather only increased the fear and uneasiness which you attempted to repel inside you. Grey clouds loomed above your head when you made it outside your apartment building and the rain only felt like droplets of acid pouring over your skin.

Tears losing their identity within the cries of mother nature, engulfing your whole being.

How sad, how pitful that what worked to calm down others was burning you.

You tried to scream but nothing came out.

All your suppressed emotions had swam up to the surface and there was no escape.

You don't remember how you managed to drive through the heavy rain, soaked with a blurred vision. It was a blessing — rather a curse from God to have protected you from an inevitable car crash.

All you remember was ending up outside Hannibal’s house — fist banging over the wood. When the door was pulled open, Hannibal found you soaked and withered like a flower in front of him. Drenched hair sticking to the ridges of your face, dress clinging to your frame, shoulders showing off a perpetual tremor, cheeks flushed and through all that Hannibal managed to pick up on the tears that slid.

He was quick to pull you inside, without a word exchanged between the two of you. His palm opened, laying on your back. You had no idea why you were here but being in Hannibal’s presence sufficiently managed to make you feel a tad bit better.

You looked up at him, mumbling incoherent words and the man didn't hesitate for a moment to bring you in a hug. His own button up and vest becoming wet in the process.

All that mattered to him was comforting you.

You buried your face in his chest, sobbing and finally breaking apart. The way he exactly needed you to. His heart ached feeling your little body shiver in his hold but this was necessary.

He had to do this. Had to trigger you somehow so he could find you in a vulnerable headspace and coerce full codependency out of you.

The killer only helped fasten the process and Hannibal knew Freddie Lounds was an unethical journalist who only cared for content. Working in the FBI wasn't that bad when Hannibal had access to the murder files and photographs. All he had to do was anonymously send to Lounds and then send the article to you.

A smile decorated his features when you crumbled in his embrace.

“He-He'll come—come back for me. He—”

You were a mess. A mix of overwhelming emotions and beautiful flesh. Hannibal shushed you, caressing your head with his palm as you unleashed weeks worth of suppressed trauma and anguish.

“I'm here.” He said softly, tightening his hold over you in a protective manner. “You have me, only me. You don't need anyone else.”

You nodded in agreement, both palms pressed over his broad chest. Your body had grown cold and Hannibal was beginning to worry.

He pulled apart from you, or attempted to but you clung to him like a koala. Fists bunching up the material of his button up, body aching to feel his warmth. Becoming greedy but Hannibal was going to give you all the warmth you so desperately craved.

“You will fall sick, love. Let me bring you some clothes.”

Your hands loosened their grip over his shirt and he peeled from me. Biceps soaked from how tightly they were draped around you, skin underneath them revealed. After sitting you down on the couch, Hannibal went to find you some clothes.

He could not put the paramount happiness he felt into words. Everything, from beginning to end had worked in his favor. He was in control and he enjoyed it more than anything. All he had to do was use your trauma against you, push you into a state of vulnerability where you only needed him.

He brought you his own clothes, a shirt that would be too big on you. Hannibal craved to see how you'd look, he was fucking excited.

You were still shivering, chest leaping up from little hiccups. Hannibal walked over to you with the shirt and a glass of water he'd fetched from the kitchen on his way to the living room.

“Here, drink this. You'll feel better.” You reached for the glass with shaky fingers and Hannibal noticed them. In one single go, you finished the glass. He took it from you and placed it on the nearest table before handing you over his shirt.

“Please change into this. You'll fall sick and we don't want that happening, do we?”

You had no energy to change. It required all your will power to drive here and now you were too far gone to even function like a proper human. Hands numb and frozen.

You raised your gaze at him, glossy and red eyes becoming the cause of his heavy beating heart.

Hannibal swallowed.

He did not know you would grow this beautiful, this breathtaking after breaking apart. In your destruction, you were the most beautiful. Blooming like a new flower. Like a piece of art, you filled his heart with bliss.

“I can provide help.” He tested the waters and all you did was turn around on the couch, moving to the side to reveal the zipper of your dress to him.

Hannibal sat next to you, brawny hands reaching for the zipper. You closed your eyes as tears fell, a few sobs escaping. Hannibal’s fingers slowly dragged the zipper down and you leaned more into his touch when his fingers accidentally brushed over your wet skin. You swallowed — body growing used to the man's minor touch.

He exposed your back when the zipper met the end, glistening bare skin greeting him. He could tell from the way you shifted in your seat or how the goosebumps poked through your skin that you were relishing in this.

Hannibal’s knuckles caressed your skin, your breath hitched.

Hannibal carefully and tenderly pushed the sticky dress off your shoulders, exposing your beautiful shoulders. Bare and raw to his lascivious gaze. He was so obsessed, so infatuated. Fingers dancing across where your shoulder blades sat, tongue swiping over his own lips.

He was a starving madman.

Only the sound of fire crackling over the wood in the fireplace could be heard in the room, along with your bated breathing and sharp intakes of air. Hannibal’s adam apple bobbed up and down as he fully pulled the dress down.

The heavy soaked material of cotton bunched up at your waist. Your bare chest rose up and fell down in uneven breaths, nipples hardening because of the chilly air.

You were ready to stand up to discard the dress but Hannibal’s hands circled around your arms, pulling you back against his chest. Your eyes fluttered shut as he breathed over your nape.

His warm breath leaving chills in its wake and you shuddered in his grasp. The self control Hannibal possessed was worthy of immense respect and appreciation because only he knew how badly he wanted to let go and claim you.

But he had to wait.

He waited for so long, what's more a few hours or days.

He found himself growing obsessed with your mere scent. How sweet you smelled, how hypnotic it was. Worked like magic over him.

“Arms.” Hannibal sounded commanding and you raised your arms, slipping them into the large sleeves of the emerald shirt. Hannibal didn't bother to unbutton it as it was oversized and you slipped right into it.

He soon pulled the dress down to your legs and discarded it somewhere.

He brushed your hair with his beautifully sculpted fingers, mind overthrown by the images of your bare back and gorgeous shoulders.

You slowly turned to face him, face flushed and tears coating the apple of your cheeks.

“Thank you.“ You whispered, stifling the urge to sob. You were still all over the place, hoping that all of this was a dream and you'd wake up soon between your thick blanket.

Hannibal nodded. “I told you, I will always be here. You're safe with me, love. I can protect you from this man, keep you safe but you need to stay close to me in order for me to protect you.”

You thought about it and he was right.

If you'd gone to someone else after reading that article, they would have never opened their door to you. Never would have allowed you in but Hannibal, like your guardian angel, was right there.

Your gaze fell to capture his lips for a moment before flickering back up to his sparkling eyes.

“It is your decision, at the end.” Of course it was.

But your words were driven by Hannibal’s manipulation and gaslighting. Using his wit and psychology to push you over the cliff, only to be waiting down there to catch you.

Your words were yours but your lips were controlled by Hannibal.

You shuffled closer to him, knees coming in contact with his. With hesitation, you threw your arms around him and veiled your face with his nape. Hannibal circled his arms around your frail waist, a smug smile crossing his lips.

A smug smile of victory.

When you broke the hug, Hannibal cupped your face and leaned in to press a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. You didn't complain, knowing that this was unethical but you didn't care. You craved this, a doomed touch starved creature you were.

Hannibal’s blonde strands fell over his face and you reached for them, caressing them between your fingers. He took in a deep breath, fingers nearly digging into your waist from the sheen of desire on his mind.

“You're like spring, my love. Bloom like the flowers.” Hannibal whispered, finally leaning in to press his lips over yours. You allowed him to, your own hands slithering over his nape, fingers tangling in his roots.

Hannibal pressed his body against yours in desperate attempts to feel you as he pushed him down on the couch. His lips devoured you, the kiss full of seeting passion. You felt his tongue coat your lips with saliva and you parted open your mouth, a lustful invitation.

His tongue mingled with yours, breath and spit becoming one. You whimpered into thw kiss as Hannibal’s hands moved up from your waist to unbutton the shirt he'd put you in. Only enough to expose your breasts to him. Hannibal loved how the silk shirt clung to your body, how it complimented your soft skin.

You arched your back when his hands fondled with your breasts, thumbs squeezing your hardened peaks between them. Hannibal had lost all his restraint. He could not stop kissing you, forbidding you the pleasures of breathing.

You tried to pull away but that was a mistake as he began to kiss you with more vigor. Locking your lips together, fucking your mouth with his wet tongue. His saliva had coated your lips as well as your chin, in tiny invisible rivulets

“H-Hannibal, wait.” You whispered and he finally tore himself away from you, breaking the kiss.

When your eyes got used to his vision, your cunt throbbed at how handsomely disheveled he appeared. Hair a mess from all the entanglement of your fingers, lips glossy with your saliva and eyes darkened. His blown out pupils were a full proof of his overbearing need for you.

His face moved to hide in your neck, lips peppering soft wet kisses over it. You winced when you felt him bite into you, a whine leaving you. Hannibal's one hand slithered down to the lace panties you wore, fingers grazing over the hem of them. You inhaled a sharp breath — feeling him slip his hand inside your underwear.

His fingers gathered your arousal before pressing over your clit, rubbing it in soft circles. Your back arched off the couch as your breathy moans grew louder. One hand toying with your cunt while the other twisted and tugged at your nipple, you were in complete bliss.

Hannibal’s fingers dropped lower and he slid one inside your cunt. Your walls clenched around him, a whine escaping you. If you'd been told you would end up with your psychiatrist’s fingers buried inside your cunt, you would probably think of it as a fever dream but here you were.

Hips writhing underneath him. Hannibal stared at you, licking his hungrily. You looked so breathtaking, panting like you'd run a marathon. Cheeks blossoming with a sweet pink hue.

Hannibal pulled out his fingers, losing his grip on patience. He could unfold the layers of your body some other day, right now he needed you and he was going to take was his.

He rid himself of his clothes, discarding the pieces by the couch. You were in awe of what he had to offer especially when your gaze lowered to between his legs. A cock rock hard — standing proudly, deliciously curved. You subconsciously licked your lips and fluttered your eyes back at him.

Hannibal parted open your legs, sliding between them. Holding his cock, he guided it into you and your hands flew to grip his bare biceps, nails piercing.

As you felt him enter you, stretching you past your limits, you flinched. It didn't hurt nor did it bring you unbearable pain but you still needed time to get used to Hannibal’s size.

Hannibal cupped your face, large hands bringing you warmth.

“My beautiful Love. You will feel better soon as all I wish to do is bring you pleasure.” You nodded your head at his sugary words, releasing your grip around his biceps and moving your arms around his neck.

You pulled him closer, an action which gave him the order to fuck you and he did. Hannibal lifted your legs, placing each on each side of his hips before fully driving himself into your soaked cunt.

A whimper emitted from your throat when you felt him fully sink into you. Your gummy walls gripping around him like the tail of a snake around its prey — feeling every protruding vein.

Hannibal started to move, back and forth but slowly to make you feel each and every thrust. A whine of need and desperation echoed in the room, silencing the crackling of the fire.

“Tell me what you need, my love. Tell me what is it that you ache for?”

Your vision blurred. “You.”

That was all Hannibal needed to drill his cock into your tight pussy. Like some animal who'd finally caught its prey and with the intention to tear it apart limb by limb consumed it. Your body jerked forward from each harsh thrust, his balls slapping against the stripe of your cunt.

“Hannibal! Hann—ohmy.” Your moans grew, so did his pace. He fucked you with strong will and determination to draw a rippling orgasm out of you.

Hannibal’s hand wrapped around your throat in a purely possessive manner. To claim that you were his. He bruised your throat but not with the purpose to hurt you, rather taint you as his. Brand you forever.

A fucking collar embedded in your blood streams.

Both your hands held onto his wrist as he bruised your skin, all the while mounting you and chasing his own orgasm. Everytime he hit that spot of yours, tears fell and collapsed against the couch. His cock head driving itself ferociously into your cervix.

Hannibal felt his stomach taut, so did you.

Your thighs shivered, hips stuttering underneath his and Hannibal caught that. How could he not? He captured every little action of yours, every response your body gave to his. He was in love and his love was not the good kind.

“I feel it, Hannibal I-I feel it.” You cried out and he nodded, panting and groaning. All the sounds he made only worked to increase your sex drive — you craved him more, despite him being inside you. Your cunt clenched around him, gripping him and Hannibal nearly whined at how fucking good you felt.

Both of you were close and with one harsh thrust, Hannibal spilled his load inside you while you released all over him. His seed had tainted your walls. He didn't stop there.

He continued to thrust inside you, slow and sensual rolling of his hips inside your cunt.

Your eyes had fallen shut, disappearing into your skull. Seeing the same white Hannibal had painted your walls with.

“You're the prettiest, my pretty girl.” Hannibal whispered against your forehead, pressing a soft kiss to it. He soon pulled out and collapsed right next to you as you shuffled to give him space.

Laying on his chest, you were the happiest. Naked bodies entangled together for eternity and you had no idea just what you'd gotten yourself into. Raising your eyes at Hannibal’s face, you already found him looking at you with a smile.

His fingers trailed along your hair as he held you rightly in his arms. You released a sigh of content. “Hannibal, I-I think I'm in love with you.”

You sounded sure that you had fallen in love with your psychiatrist and as unprofessional as it was, you hoped that he too reciprocated these unbridled emotions. You had no idea just how happy you'd made him by uttering out those words.

He kissed the top of your head. “I have always been in love with you, my girl. You have no idea how much I tried to control these feelings I harbor for you.”

You shook your head. “You don't have to control them anymore, Hannibal.”

He didn't have to, not anymore. He had you right where he wanted you and everything had fallen right into place. Pushing you towards the edge was worth it — when the result was you, in his arms, it was all worth it.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Hannibal obsessed with his patient

Hannibal never liked to look at patients as anything more than that. But Y/N was a different story. She, unlike a lot of his patients, wasn't a psycho. Sure she had her issues, as did all but she was just looking for someone to talk to. 

He noticed the way she kept eye contact with him as they talked. She wasn’t shaky or nervous. She seemed confident 

Her problems were normal problems for people, nothing too crazy. She admitted to him that she just liked having someone to talk to. 

Though her overthinking was bad. She hated that fact about herself but he assured her that it was normal. She wanted to believe him but in her mind it was too repetitive.

He kept a file on her, as he did every patient. He would constantly look over this file and study her. He even found out where she lived and worked, thus began the stalking and obsessing. 

He would watch her from afar at work as she did her job. Her beauty was unlike anything he’s ever seen and all he wanted to do was hold her and keep her from the fucked up world. 

He would stare at her house for hours as she was inside doing whatever she was doing. It wasn’t until weeks later that he would sneak up to a window and look inside.

Her house was well organized and looked very artsy. He knew that she loved art. They had talked about it multiple times. It was one of the reasons he was so obsessed with her. 

He saw her in the kitchen baking in her underwear and a large shirt. The shirt barely covered her ass but he wasn’t complaining 

He stared at her for a good few minutes as she baked a cake. He wondered if she was making a cake for someone or for herself. 

He found out the next day that it was for him. She wanted to thank him for everything that he’s done for her and that she was going to stop seeing him. 

This saddened him and he wasn’t going to let her leave him. So he decided to make a move. “Since you will no longer be my patient, would it be inappropriate to ask you on a date?” She smiled at him. “Even if it is, I would love to.” She said, 

He decided to make dinner for them and invite her over. Though it had crossed his mind to ask about having dinner at her house, he thought it was too early for that. 

Y/N looked stunning. Hannibal had told her to dress fancy and she did just that. He was taken away by her beauty and even stuttered a few times and Hannibal doesn’t usually do that. 

“You look amazing, my dear.” The name made her blush and stutter as well. “As do you, Hannibal.” She finally got to call him by his first name and he liked the way it sounded. 

Dinner made her moan. It was so good and better than she imagined. She knew that he was a cook but didn’t know the extremes. 

“This is the best food I've ever tasted.” She told him. He was pleased that she liked it but he knew what his perfect meal would be. 

She was on the kitchen table with her dress pooling around her waist as he licked her wet folds. He hummed as he tasted her juices that tasted better than any food he’s ever had. His finger ran up her clit causing her to moan. He loved that sound and wanted to hear more of it. 

Her moans echoed through his kitchen as he ate her pussy. One of her hands laced in his hair as the other gripped the table for dear life. His tongue felt amazing. 

He decided to add a finger as he pleasured her. His finger collected her wetness before entering her. She let out a whimper as his large finger invaded her insides. 

He pumped his finger as he licked her clit. Her pleasure was heightened by his movements and very intense. Her hips bucked and humped his face and finger as she was desperate for her orgasm. 

When she came it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Her jaw dropped and her eyes rolled back. Loud moans of his name left her mouth as he let her ride out the orgasm. 

His eyes never left her face as he stared in awe. Amazed by her beauty. She let out a breath and laughed. She looked down at him as his lips left her clit. “You’re very good at that.” She said out of breath. 

“When I like something I devour it.” He said to her and wink. She let out a breath that she was holding. This man would be the death of her and vise versa

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hey,

Do you still take Hannibal requests? If you do, could you please write a story, where Hannibal get‘s very jealous after a night out in the opera. The reader had finally met Franklyn, who is very interested in her ( because she‘s friends with Hannibal and part of the cheese folk).Hannibal is visibly angry when they are back in their opera seats… Could you also please end it with smut ( if you are comfortable with that).Thanks for considering!<3

A/n: Hey Hon thanks for the request i hope you like it!

Hannibal Lector x Reader: Jealousy, Jealousy

Warnings:smut, biting, kissing, penetration (p in v), fingering, possessive behaviour, public sex, unwanted flirting (from Franklin), fluff, happy ending, no use of y/n, female reader

Word count:2,9K

Hannibal is pissed. No scratch that. He’s seething. But you can’t see it. No one can. He’s just that good at hiding it. Even so, everyone has a breaking point. 

This was Hannibals.

Franklin had met you at the last opera you and Hannibal had gone to and from that moment it seemed he had grown some sort of infatuation with you. Hannibal always loathed his sessions with Franklin, his ever growing desire to be Hannibal’s friends making the doctor rather uncomfortable, but he never imagined it could get worse. Boy was he mistaken. It seemed like Franklin couldn’t utter a single sentence without mentioning your name. Hannibal watched him dance around the subject for days until he finally got to the point.

“You think you could give me her number?”

“I'm sorry?”

“Her number. I wanted to ask if she’d be free for some wine tasting but I don't know how to reach her. And then I thought you must have her number since you two seem close.”

“I don’t think she’d be interested.”

“Oh well maybe you could give me it anyway and i could ask-”

“I will not be giving you her number and that is final.”

An eerie silence took over the room. Hannibal watched Franklin open and close his mouth silently before settling back into his chair. It seemed clear to Hannibal that his patient had finally gotten the message.

 Once again he was wrong.

You were nursing a glass of wine that Hannibal had picked out for you as your eyes studied the opera house. Hannibal was next to you, his body mare inches from yours but not close enough to allow contact. You watched people come up to Hannibal in greeting before quickly going away.

“As always you’re quite the topic.”

“I don’t know what you mean dear.”

“Don’t be modest Hannibal. It's clear these people admire you. They may even wish to be you.”

You caught sight of a girl making flirtatious eyes to Hannibal and couldn’t help but smirk.

“Or maybe be with you. Either way they consider you appealing.”

Hannibal watched you as you spoke, his eyes never leaving your frame. It was intriguing how observant you could be and how unseeing you were at the same time. It didn’t matter how many women tried to impress him, his eyes always found themselves glued to you. You always had his full attention.

Always.

It was beginning to become a problem.

Hannibal had been so focused on looking at you that he hadn’t noticed someone new had approached. It was only when Hannibal heard the familiar voice that he realized you two had company. The doctor watched Franklin greet you with a kiss on your hand. The sight itself made Hannibal clench his hands into fists. He tried to remind himself he was in the middle of a very crowded place. A place filled with people who knew him. Seeing him throw a punch at a patient would ruin his career. Still he’d never felt an urge to knock someone out so much in his life.

You were always a kind person. Very well mannered and aware of your words. So it shouldn’t surprise Hannibal when you kept conversing with Franklin, occasionally even laughing at his terrible jokes. Hannibal zeroed in his attention on your lips. He observed the way they wrapped around the rim of the glass as you took a sip of your drink. The drink he’d picked for you because he knew you pallet better than anyone.

It had occurred to Hannibal a few months back that he was growing interested in you in a not so friendly way. But it was only when Franklin asked for your number that he realized how deeply he was falling for you. He wanted you for himself. And he would make that happen.

You were starting to get annoyed. Franklin was a nice guy but it was clear he didn’t know how to take no for an answer. You could see the way he was subtly, at least in his eyes, trying to flirt with you. It’s safe to say you weren’t interested. Not that he seemed to be getting that message. A noise rang out into the room telling you all the intermission was coming to an end.

“Well look at that, time just flies when you’re having fun huh?”

You gave Franklin a weak smile .

“We should be going, Franklin. Our seats are at the top so we have to climb a lot of stairs.”

“Oh okay.”

“Maybe we'll see you at the next opera?”

God you hopped not.

“Actually I was wondering if I could get your number.”

You froze, a concerned smile plastered to your face. Gosh he really didn’t let up did he? In a moment of pure panic at the thought of having to deal with Franklin calling at all hours of the night you grabbed onto Hannibal's arm. The doctor's focus moved to where your delicate hands were wrapped around his forearm. You looked up at him with pleading eyes before turning back to Franklin.

“Actually I’m already spoken for.”

“Oh wow I didn’t….realize.”

“Yes well we are very much together so…. Yeah.”

And uncomfortable silence covered the three of you. You tried to think of something to say. Anything to get you away from here. Before you had time to come up with something Hannibal spoke.

“Come on dear. If we don’t hurry we might miss something.”

You let out a relieved breath as Hannibal moved his hand to wrap around your waist, guiding you away from Franklin. You kept your eyes forward as the two of you walked. It was only when you were out of Franklin's view that you started laughing. You braced yourself on your thighs as you laughed.

“Oh gosh. That was just dreadful. He was so-“

“Annoying.”

“Incredibly annoying! Honestly Hannibal I don't know how you can deal with being in a room with him for an hour.”

“Didn’t seem like you were having such a hard time.”

You lifted your head to look at the doctor with a curious expression. He was looking down at you with a look you rarely ever saw, at least not directed towards you. Hannibal Lecter was annoyed. And at you no less. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You seemed to be enjoying talking to him. Laughing at his jokes. Making small talk.”

“It's called manners, Hannibal. As far as I know you value them quite a lot.”

Hannibal stalked over to you causing you to take a step back. Your back hit the wall, making you gasp. Hannibal hovered over you, his eyes boring into your soul.

“Hannibal what are you-“

“Did you enjoy his attention? Did you like the way he was looking at you? He was staring so hard I was surprised his eyes didn’t pop out of their sockets.”

“What the hell’s gotten into you?”

“Into me? Weren’t you the one who was just clinging onto my body like I was your savior?”

You’d never seen Hannibal like this. For the first time since you knew him he looked like an animal. His usually neat hair was slightly flopping over his face and the expert calm facade he always had seemed to have slipped. He looked like a predator and you were his prey. You lifted your hand so that you could touch his arm. He looked at your hand on his frame. It was as if your touch was burning him. He needed to feel you but he was afraid of what that would mean. You whispered his name causing him to face you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, your lips slightly parted as you breathed.

He hadn’t even realized he was boxing you into the wall with his body until he felt the heat that radiated from you. He couldn’t think straight with you so near him but he couldn’t bear to be far from you either. It was then that he realized just how much he craved you. He felt like a lion who’d been starved for days and had finally been given a piece of steak. 

He was going to devour you.

Without a second thought Hannibal shoved his lips against yours. Your body reacted immediately, hand moving to wrap around his neck as he deepened the kiss. Hannibal moved his hand to your leg, hitching it up. You gasped into his mouth as his fingers skimmed over your skin. He enjoyed the sounds you made as he pushed your underwear to the side. His fingers moved over your pussy and he couldn’t help but groan as he felt how wet you were. Your nails dug into his blazer as he inserted one of his digits into you. Your back rubbed against the wall as he continued to bully his fingers into your cunt. A moan slipped through your lips before you managed to cover your mouth, the realization that anyone could just walk by and see you finally becoming clear.

“Hannibal we-“

“Shhh I’m trying to enjoy the opera.”

You could hear the opera singer belting out a note from afar. The sound was dulled by the heavy doors but you could still make it out. Hannibal hummed the song as he continued to finger you. You were trying to keep as quiet as possible but he wasn’t making it easy on you. He knew exactly what to do to have you screaming out for him.

“Hannibal please, I'm so close.”

“Oh yeah? Think you deserve it?”

“Yes please. Please make me cum.”

“Even after flirting with Franklin in front of me?”

This little shit.

“Hannibal please…. I’m sorry.”

“Who do you belong to hum?”

“You.”

“Speak up dear, I can't hear you.”

“You Hannibal! I belong to you!”

“That's right. Go on then. Cum on my fingers.”

You hid your face in the crook of Hannibal's neck as a silent moan ripped through your body. He felt your teeth graze his collar bone through his shirt as your mouth opened in pleasure making him smirk. Your juices continued to coat his fingers as he attempted to help you through your high. Your body shook against him, your limbs spasming as you tried to regain control of your brain. You knew Hannibal's knowledge of the human body made him good at many things but you never stopped to contemplate the effect his expertise would have on a more sexual context.  

Once you’d come back down to earth you pushed your body off of Hannibals allowing you to look into his eyes. You continued to breathe heavily as you looked at him trying to figure out what would happen next. You hadn't expected him to lean down and kiss your lips but you welcomed the action. You warped your arms around his neck tugging him even closer to you. Hannibal's hands made their way to your hips squeezing lightly at your flesh. You bite into his bottom lip as his mouth moved away from yours. You couldn’t help the giggle that made its way out of your lips.

Hannibal grinned down at you, his thumb caressing your hip bone as he continued to observe you. Your hair was covering your face and your lips were swollen from kissing him. Hannibal didn’t look much better, his pupils were dilated and his heart was hammering in chest. You noticed the wild look in his eyes and in a sudden burst of confidence you decided to move your leg up against Hannibal's body. His eyes darted to your leg before moving back to your face. You bite into your lip, your fingers moving to tug at the small hairs on the back of Hannibal's head. You watched his brows furrow a bit at the action. “You gonna fuck me Doctor lector?”

“What makes you say that?”

“The look on your face.”

“And what look would that be?”

“The look of a man who is about to turn into an animal.”

Hannibal's expression faltered slightly at your comment. He wondered from a moment if you’d understand him if he told you what he was capable of. He wondered if your eyes would widen in fear or if they would simply spike up in curiosity. You placed your palm on his cheek causing him to focus on you once more.

“You okay?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m starved.”

Hannibal gave you a wolfish grin as his hand made its way to your ass. You gasped as he pushed your body up, legs instinctively wrapping around his hips. You steady yourself on his shoulders waiting to see what he would do. Hannibal tugged your dress up your legs allowing him to view your underwear. He moved his hand to his pants tugging at the zipper. You watched him in anticipation, eyes widening as he pulled his dick from its confines. You whined as he pushed your underwear to the side, positioning himself near your entrance. A gasp left your lips as he pushed into you. Your nails dug into his blazer. Hannibal braced one hand on the wall as he began to pistol into you.

Your moans filled his ears as he continued to brutally fuck into you. The sound of you combined with the sounds of the opera far away were like music to his ears. He wondered why he’d never thought of doing this before. You’d been to his home many times it wouldn’t have been hard to get you into his bed but he supposed this was nice too. He felt a rush move through his body at the thought of someone walking in on the two of you. He wished it would be Franklin, the need to show his patient that you belonged to him becoming overwhelming. His head moved to your neck, tongue moving against the soft skin before he sunk his teeth into you. Your walls clenched around him at the action causing him to let out a grunt.

“Hannibal-ah ugh ah shit- don’t stop.”

He was never going to stop. He’d feast on your body for as long as he could, in every way he knew how. He would never be satiated with the feeling of you. There was no going back now Hannibal would have to make you entirely his. 

He continues to nibble at your skin, desperately trying to mark you as much as he can. He wants to scare off any other suitors but he also enjoys the thought of you walking around covered in marks he’s given you. Mine, he thinks, this one is all mine. You're clenching around his dick like a vice which tells him you’re getting closer to your release. He wants you to beg for it, wants you to ask him to cum. It seems you can read his mind because without him even opening his mouth you’re already whining for him, telling him how good he feels and how much you want to cum on his dick. So he lets you but not before filling you to the brim with his seed. He wants you so full off him that his cum starts to seep out. He wants you to smell like him so everyone else knows who you belong to. 

You’re having a hard time getting your heart to calm down. Hannibals still holding onto your body, trying his best to keep you upright as his own legs threaten to buckle. Neither one of you speaks, opting to just share the space in silence for a moment. You hear muffled applause, the sound telling you that the opera has ended. You pull your dress down covering your body once again. Once you think you're decent your hands move to Hannibal now soft dick, stuffing it back in his pants for him. He doesn't move away from you as you straighten his tie or when you fix his hair for him. He lets you build his facade back up without any complaint. As you finish making sure he too is decent you place your hands on his chest.

“Can’t ruin your reputation, can we now Doctor Lecter?”

He smiles at you, his own hands moving to fix your messy hair. Then he moves to place a gentle kiss on your lips. It's a tender action which causes your heart to skip a beat. As the two of you share a loving kiss the doors of the opera open. People pile into the hall you and Hannibal are in, not one of them aware of what was happening a couple of minutes prior. You allow Hannibal to guide you into the crowd, his hand comfortably warping around your waist. You let your body curl into him.

“Let’s go home my dear. I’m dying for another meal.”

Something about the way he talks makes you think he isn’t talking about food.

[littlemsshoney]

Hannibal falling in love

It is ridiculous how wrapped around your little finger he was.

From the first moment he laid eyes on you he found his new fixation. Every time you were in the same room with him his gaze was fixed on you, observing silently every detail, getting to know you before you were even introduced.

Of course he would be very careful, almost suspicious of any new person being added to his social circle. For a man obsessed with his social image he had to be cautious of any potential competitor and you were just lovely. So charming, well educated, funny, and polite.

He found you unusually enchanting. Of course he recognised your beauty but there was something less superficial about you that just pulled him in.

The feeling was known to him yet very rare as it never seemed to have a happy end. He knew he tended to be quite intense with his emotions and that never ended well so he promised himself it wouldn’t be that way with you.

It wasn’t long till you happened to be invited to the same dinner parties through common friends. How could he not observe you when you were sitting opposite of him only a few centimetre out of his reach? Every time you happened to talk he found the perfect opportunity to study you, the way you spoke, the way you smiled, the faces you made when you found something funny, stupid or ridiculous. You tried to be discreet not to offend anyone but he noticed, he noticed and he loved every expression your precious face made.

If you happened to sit next to him he would already know what perfume you wore, what scented shampoo you used everything. (And he wouldn’t mind doing some personal research about you beforehand)

With every joke of yours he found himself truly laughing and when you spoke his inner monologue quietened and he didn’t have to pretend to be listening because he actually did.

For a man like him who spent most part of his life stuck inside his head, building fortresses against the cruelty of people you quickly broke down everything while having him feeling so comfortable and at ease with you. You had him hooked.

Of course he noticed the way other people looked at you. Women and men with their envy and lust and he wouldn't be jealous if he only knew you were his.

During his sessions he found himself unable to focus on anything, his mind just replaying every conversation you two had over and over like a broken radio. Almost every night he was awake at the most unholy hours, his mind unable to rest and stop thinking about you. That was when he knew it was inevitable.

His insomnia and love for you he treated with writing love letters and sonnets, making sketches and drawings of you as he imagined you, all of them hidden and locked in the drawer of his office and his heart too.

Now not only were you dominating his every through but his whole life too.

He would take notes into his head of your interests and would say all the perfect things to keep you interested. What were your hobbies? Art, literature, music he would become an expert for you. He knew everything from Taylor Swift's latest album to the full analysis of your favourite poem. He would do and learn about anything you liked and was passionate about, just to keep you talking to him with that sparkle in your eyes. He could do it for hours, days and every minute for the next of his life.

I hope you don’t share your affections with anyone special because if he found out which he would, they would be the next missing person in town or worse.

When you became used to him and you got to know each other better he found his chance to invite you to one of his special dinners. Only that one would be even more special as you would be the only guest hence having his sole interest. He had one whole evening to amaze you with his culinary skills, deep, meaningful conversations about art, philosophy and life. At the end of the night he had you feeling it too.

And when the time came and you became his you and the whole world would see just how smitten he is.

He laughed with every joke, he listened to you carefully and everytime your name was mentioned he couldn't help but smile. Any little things that caught your eyes you would have and if you asked for the moon itself he would find a way to give it to you.

He didn’t mind, he actually loved it. That was love for him. He wanted to be your loyal servant and your beloved and feared god all at once. Could you give him this and he would give you the world.

If you didn’t however return his affections or god forbid you betray him that would be a very different and tragic(for you) story.

[promisingyounglady]

cigarettes after sex. | DV x Reader

PAIRING: Duncan Vizla x Younger!Reader

A/N: I could treat him so good…

The sounds of the clock ticking softly are heard in the background, almost matching to the thumps of Duncan’s heartbeat which you hear as you press your head against his naked chest.

“Does it feel good?”

You say softly, watching as he drags the cigarette from his soft lips you were kissing before.

Duncan simply smiles, leaving his cigarette in the ash tray by his bed, and getting up to put on a pair of pants.

With his back turned, you quickly swipe the cigarette at its last puff, secretly wanting to try it.

You took a drag, the thick smoke filling your lungs and immediately making you cough. You covered your mouth with the back of your hand, despising the taste and foul smell. How did he make them taste so good when you kissed him?

Duncan walks over, watching this unfold at his amusement, before he sits on the edge of the bed. He takes the cancer stick, putting it out fully.

“Don’t touch those. They’re not good for you” he says in a deep voice, putting on a white tee that accentuated his soft abdomen and arm muscles.

You smiled, looking your lover in the eyes. “You’re always smoking them. I want to smoke too” you said timidly, playing with his belt buckle that hands loose on his jeans.

Duncan let’s a hand caress your face, heart warming at the sight of you.

“Later. You have time”

[shegatsby]

Hello,

could you please write a Hannibal one-shot, where he and the reader are on their honeymoon in Florence. In the middle of a steamy moment, Jack calls her, due to an emergancy FBI case, but Hannibal just smashes the phone?(with smut?)

A/N: Hi guys!!! I am here to serve the fandom! Enjoy.

Warnings: SMUT! SMUT IN PUBLIC! UNPROTECTED SEX! WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT FOLKS! POSSESSIVE HANNIBAL!

Y/N woke up to a beautiful summer day in Florence. The bed was in a complete mess but she and her husband didn't mind. Yes, she got married to the man of her dreams a week ago and he booked a cozy villa to show her around in Florence, the city he adored. She has never been here before so it was an exciting adventure. Hannibal was really enjoying being a provider, taking care of his wife, making sure she got everything she needed and desired, he loved to hear her laugh and see her beautiful smile. If she was happy he was happy that was the dynamic. Ever since they got here they could only go out on a yacht trip and visited Uffizi Gallery, other days they just couldn't keep their hands off of each other. Of course when they were dating they often had sex but after marriage Hannibal's desire grew more and more. Now that she was his completely he had this primal urge to be a round her all the time, he never knew he could be into physcial touch this much, because before her Hannibal was a cold hearted and colculated man in his previous relationships but at the moment he was preparing breakfast for her, humming a soft tune.

As he was about to go upstairs and wake her up she walked into the garden, the table was by the pool, one could smell the fresh flowers and sweet fruit in the air, Hannibal was once again in awe of her, she was wearing a white milkmaid dress, her hair wet from the shower, just her natural beauty took his breath every time. ''Morning gorgeours.'' he called for her, she smiled as she walked to the table, he had his beige polo shirt and shorts, he got a nice tan. ''Morning honey.'' she kissed him and sat, ''I already ate,'' he began but when he saw her answering her emails on the phone he cleared his throat to geth her attention, he could be like a toddler sometimes. ''Oh?''

''Come here darling.'' he said calmly, she didn't understand but stood up and put her phone on the glass table, Hannibal sat and patted his lap, ''I want to feed you myself.'' he explained shortly. She knew Hannibal had interesting fantasies but this one was knew. ''Okay.'' she blushed shyly which earned a smirk from him. ''Blushing like a maiden are you?'' he teased her, she rolled her eyes.

Hannibal put some botter on a toasted bread and honey on top, ''Open wide love.'' she opened her mouth, bit the toast, ''Hmm, really good.'' she said, ''I know what you like, love.'' he rubbed his nose on her cheek, as he fed her Y/N could feel his hardening member, just to give him hard time she replaced herself on his lap, pretending like she couldn't find the right pesition and she heard his inhale, ''Darling..'' he warned, ''I would like to feed you first and then fuck you till you see stars but food first.'' he was a man of his word and she was counting on it.

''But I'm full.'' she said looking under her eyes, ''Are you now?'' his hand moved inside the dress finding her already soaking wet cunt. ''Oh,'' he said as soon as his fingers made contact, ''What have I found here...'' he started to gently rub her, she opened her legs so that he could have an easy access, ''So eager huh? Tell me how much you want my fingers inside you.''

She loved these moments were he was demanding and direct, ''Please Hannibal, I want your fingers in me, fill me up.'' and they started kissing as he slowly penetrated in her with his fingers, since she was soaking he could finger her easily. Her back was pressing against his chest and he broke the kiss, made her straddel him, now she was wide open, her feet couldn't reach the ground. Her hands wrapped around his neck, with his other hand he was rubbing her ass, giving few slaps which made her yelp. ''Hannibal..'' she moaned his name between kisses, she could feel herself getting closer and closer, her juice dripping down on his shorts, he started to kiss and bite her jaw line, her neck as his finger got faster, ''Yes darling,'' he encouraged her, ''just like that..'' his fingers were hitting a soft spot in her which made her shake her legs, he knew she was close. As they were wrapped in this moment her phone started to ring, which distracted her. ''Fuck.'' she huffed under her breath and reached to get her phone, ''Who is it?'' Hannibal said, clealry annoyed, ''Jack, it must be urgent otherwise he wouldn't call.'' Before she could answer Hannibal got her phone, smashed it against the glass table, thankfully the table didn't break but her phone was destroyed. Y7N had never seen him like this, withouth a word he threy everything away on the table and stood up, laid her on her back and opened her legs, the coolnes of the table made her shiver but deep down she knew what was the reason, she was turned on by her husband, how dominant and manly he was... He pulled down his wet shorts, and without a warning entered her slick folds. They both moaned deeply, ''My wife..'' he said in a growl. He pushed up her hands and held her wrists with one hand, they were literally in public, if any of their neighbors decided to look out the window they could see but it turned Hannibal even more. He wanted everyone to know that she as his. He was brutal with his strokes, she was already sore from last night but he didn't take, he knew she could take it. ''Good girl..'' he said making eye contact, with his free hand he slaped her face, ''Taking my cock so well. Your pussy is mine.'' his words made her climax, her legs shaking again but this time she was in atrance, he was right she was seeing stars. Hannibal followed after few deep strokes and he came in her. He leaned in to kiss her forehead, ''Baby,'' he kissed her cheek and then her lips, ''I want you to have my children.'' he confessed, he had the idea ever since he saw her for the first time, ''Yes,'' she said out of breath, ''Yes Hannibal.'' she caged his plump lips in apassionate kiss.

[sunflwrmi]

gratitude

warnings: non-con/dub-con (nsfw, 18+), fem! reader, dark themes, aftermath of domestic violence (not by hannibal), infidelity, unspecified age difference

hannibal lecter never thought he'd crave love until he met you.

when he first met you, he recognized that you were a lovely young thing, a dutiful, caring wife who brought her troubled husband to his office with a warm smile and a small gift in hand as thanks for taking care of him with every visit. the way your hands gently held that wretched man's arms so carefully, those pillow pink lips that touched that horrible man's cheek, your kind eyes that looked into his so sweetly, so innocently without knowing the monster he knows but doesn't care he is. he had always seen media with wives like you, picture perfect to the pixel, thinking they never existed in reality, that they were all just acting for the cameras, but here you are, in front of him in your dainty outfits that flattered your body so wonderfully, with your soft voice that sounded like a dream no matter what tone you used, mesmerizing and genuine with every word you spoke.

having a wife never looked so damn good; he wasn't a jealous man but he was filled with green envy, and he wanted that company, that warmth, that love all for himself. he wanted a person all to himself for the first time in his life, a wife for himself, you. you would complete him, he knew it with every bone in his body, and he would do anything for it. he would give you the world and you would make his. it would be perfect. you were perfect. the two of you would be so perfect.

as twisted as he was, he wanted every part of your being to belong to him, and he hated that you weren't his, that you were married to someone else that he saw as an impolite loser. you were the complete opposite of that deplorable man, ever so polite and considerate, handing over a jar of homemade blueberry jam before you left. he wouldn't have kept your husband as a patient after that nightmare-ish first appointment if it weren't for oh sweet you, bowing your head slightly in greeting with those sparkling eyes of yours, all dolled up in a long simple sundress that accentuated those delicious curves in all the right places, your adorable voice going "dr. lecter" instantly causing an almost unbearable strain in his pants. the beginnings of a plan formulated in his mind quickly as an instinctual, hungry need for you blossomed in every fiber of his being.

he crafted the situation perfectly with his elegant, inviting mannerisms and entrancing voice. "my dear…come here if you ever should need me, alright? i'm here for you to help you figure things out, anything." he handed you his business card before you left the first time, his big hand on yours lingering slightly too long, too engrossed in the baby softness of your skin.

and he did not have to wait too long.

your husband with the typical troubled childhood background started becoming increasingly hot-tempered and violent, something hannibal had whispered in his ear to do. it was never a direct order, but subtle devious hints and a few smart-sounding, enticing lies phrased as helpful advice made the manipulation all the more perfect. nothing could be traced back to him if something unfortunate happened sooner or later.

"the violence you experienced back then was terrible...and i'm afraid you'll hurt your beautiful wife that way if you don't address it soon enough. you have to keep your past inside and think about it often before an argument happens and things go out of hand." he had told the man. "that way, you can learn to deal with it better."

that blithering fool followed his word too easily just as he had planned, teetering over the edge of mental instability, pushed to do something he's never done, and now you're here in his office, tears spilling from your adorably puffy eyes, finding comfort in his arms, seeking answers that'll never be given to you, because he will be the one to receive all your honeyed love and attention, not that undeserving bastard who he'll surely take the pleasure of eating sometime in the future once you've forgotten and moved on. that, however, would have to wait until you're fully over him.

hannibal took this painstakingly long route to isolate you because if that man went missing too soon with your heart still set, you would never move on and be filled with regret and love for a long, long time, and he could absolutely not wait any longer than the time he's already done so. he was a patient, intelligent man and three months was not as bad as what it would've been without a plan, without your unknowing encouragement everytime you chatted with him. look at the golden opportunity in front of him now, with you none the wiser of anything that had transpired over the last three months. god, it was worth it; he was waiting, fantasizing about this moment everytime he saw you twice a week, savoring the jam you gave him and all the other thoughtful gifts you picked out yourself, things like candles and over-engineered office supplies and pastries you baked yourself. he had so many things he wanted to do with you, do to you, learning about you and making you comfortable through small talk and a bit of sleuthing. unsurprisingly, he grew even more enamored with you the more he found out.

"dr. lecter...?" your voice snaps him out of his thoughts, his pants tightening again, and his thumb absentmindedly swipes across your cheek, rubbing your tears away. "...i-i thought..." you sniffle and stammer, looking up at him for a moment longer, hands wringing together, full of unease and anxiety, "...i thought he was getting better, but i can't believe he a-actually hit me...he's never done that before...i feel like i did something wrong, b-but i can't figure it out..."

he sighs. the only thing you did wrong was marrying that idiot, but he supposed it was only then that you both were able to meet at all. "no, darling," he smooths your hair down soothingly with his other hand, his voice low and gentle, hiding seamlessly the anger at what that man did to you, even if it was by his hand behind the scenes. he himself would never do such a thing to you, no, he'd never hurt you so senselessly like this. "this has nothing to do with you. as his psychiatrist, i know he's been under a lot of stress from work, and he's also been working hard on confronting his past. maybe that...triggers some behavior unbecoming of him. that isn't an excuse for what he's done, though, because most of all...you're hurt."

everything about him seems to slightly calm you down some more, whether it's that understanding timbre filled to the brim with genuine concern, or the way he holds you so gently, like you're made of glass, or maybe how different this treatment is in comparison to what you just faced before you came crying into his office.

you take deep, shuddering breaths, trying to relieve the anxiety that wracks your body. "...i-i know, i just...it was just a mistake. he can't...he won't do anything else. he's a kind person..."

hannibal shakes his head. "you love him enough to excuse doing an act of violence to you? something he shouldn't have done to you, his lawfully wedded wife whom he signed a vow with to never do such a thing when he married you?" as much as it pains him to remind and say himself that you belonged to another, at least by the law, it's necessary logic to get you out of there and into his arms.

"i just think—"

"it is not just making a mistake, darling," he corrects firmly, cutting you off immediately, his eyes shining with passion as his hand wanders to your chin, tilting your head up so you can see the seriousness and challenge in his eyes, his other arm encircling around your waist, tugging you closer in your embrace. "if i raised my hand against you, would that be a mistake?"

you swallow hard from being confronted so directly about the distress you wanted to forget. "w-well—"

"if i hit you like he did, would you or would you not still say it's a mistake? would you make excuses for me, even if i'm a renowned psychiatrist?" his grip on your chin grows tighter, and you wince a little in response to the volume of his voice.

"n-no..."

"exactly. do you see how stupid that is, love?" you nod your head meekly, looking a little ashamed, which satisfies him greatly. the results of his hard work would come soon. this submission, even if just for a few moments, sends a rush down to his groin, but he doesn't let it show. decades of practiced professionalism keep his mask stoic and composed as he sighs and pulls away from you, walking to sit in his office leather chair, hands folded on his lap, watchful eyes still trained on you. "you were hurt and you still are, clearly. please don't ignore what happened to you and try to paint a better picture in your mind to cover up the pain," he affirms with the same gentle tone he can tell you need right now. he reads you like a book so easily, so completely. more than uncomfortable, you feel heard for once, heard after these difficult weeks of being with your husband through his growing mental struggles. that means a lot to you, truly. he can see it in your face. "you know better than to do that, don't you, darling?" he stares at you, expecting a verbal answer, the subtle pressure he's giving you making you bite your lip nervously.

"...y-you're right...you're completely right...all of it..." you finally admit slowly, your voice a little broken and choked up. you pull up a chair next to him, instinctively seeking validation from him both physically and mentally, all just from him separating from you for just a minute. you hunch over a little as you sit, elbows on your thighs as you think.

the corner of his lips lifts into a slight smirk as he grabs your hands, enveloping them in his. he squeezes them gently, bringing your attention to his face. "i don't want to force you into anything since clearly you're very distraught over what happened," he says calmly with a confidence that you're in his hands now, "but i think you should, at the very least, have some space from your husband for now, darling."

as he introduces the idea to you, he watches your expression as you pause, processing it in your brain. you're a smart young lady, you've thought of this before, and it makes the most sense. after all, every single thing he's said to you so far has been the right course of action given your state of mind. it's sensible, which gives you all the more reason to do exactly as he wants you to. soon enough, you'll be doing what he says because he's always been right, even if what he'll do is wrong. it's asserting his authority, your trust in him that he knows best in your point of view, establishing himself as the one with power. the feeling is already so, so enticing and he can't wait until you completely feed into it.

for now, he squeezes again, pressing for an answer from you again. "u-um...yeah, i think so too." you agree, still stuttering a little from your sniffles earlier, looking shyly up at him through your lashes. god, he could imagine you doing that when...he shouldn't think about that right now. he stops himself in his thoughts and focuses his attention back on you.

"does he know where you went?" a shake of your head. "did you drive here?" another. he already knows these things though. you're exactly the woman he thought you to be. "then...you should come stay with me."

being the kind lady you are, you immediately shake your head again. "i-i couldn't possibly—"

he cuts you off by saying your name so eloquently, your voice fading out as he repeats it softly. "he knows where all your friends and relatives are, i'm sure. what if he comes to find you and influences whatever decision you make?" he reluctantly releases your hands and stands up, fishing out his car keys from his pocket and twirling them around casually, your eyes following the movement. he smiles at you reassuringly as he collects his things from the desk casually, as if his every move isn't calculated. "trust me love, it's no trouble at all. i have such a big house and it's quite lonely sometimes. you wouldn't deny a harmless old man like me some company, will you?"

you still seem unsure, though you're definitely more convinced than before. "b-but what about work, or my clothes—" you begin.

"you 're probably due for a break from work, no? i think you're going through a lot right now. if you need a doctor's note to get some leave, you can use my name." he interrupts you, not letting you reinforce your doubts out loud or spiral down that path. "my clothes are a bit oversized, but i have plenty extra for you. if you need anything else, i can place some orders immediately." the look in your eyes falters a bit at his thoroughness, but before you can say anything else, he squeezes your shoulder gently, centering your attention back on him and only him. "more than anything, don't deny yourself help when you need it right now. even someone like myself needs some from time to time." that last part is a lie, but it convinces you like he thought it would.

"you'd really do that for me, dr. lecter?" there's a glimmer of relief in your eyes, a welcome change from your tears. god, he so badly wants you to look at him like that all the time. "if so, i'll need to pay you for this. please name your price."

he smiles at your acceptance. "of course i will." he gallantly helps you in your jacket from the rack before swinging on his trench coat easily. he heads for the door, his hand on the knob as he turns to you, a pleased twinkle in his eye. "and don't you worry about a bill at all, love. with company like yours, you'll pay me what i deserve soon enough."

it's cute that you don't have a clue about what he really means.

"i think i'm going to be heading home tomorrow morning, dr. lecter."

your words cause the man to look up at you, a concerned look on his face. "is there something wrong with my hospitality? and i thought i told you to call me hannibal, my dear." his hand reaches for yours over the dining table from his place at the head and you at his left, rubbing your soft skin with his thumb, something you learned he did often absentmindedly.

you shake your head. "no, not at all, you're amazing, dr. lecter—hannibal, sorry." you correct yourself quickly. "in fact, i think i really needed this break, so i'm forever grateful for everything you've done for me and for the priceless friend i've found in you. but...it's time for me to go back and face what i ran away from."

you take a deep breath, unable to look him directly in his striking brown eyes. you've been enjoying your time here for the past week, his signature giving you time off work, his calm company a refreshing change from the angry outbursts you've been dealing with for a while now. you don't know why you've taken so long to finally get some space from your husband. it wasn't something you minded before, comforting the person you loved most every second you're with them, holding their hand every step of the way, soothing them through their tantrums and intense episodes, but now that you've allowed hannibal to convince you to experience things outside of that, allowed him to listen to your true feelings, you realize how tiring it had been to put up that front that you were okay. you got to talk to someone freely without worrying about them exploding into a fit of rage and you got time for yourself when you asked for it. this break has been nothing but pure relief and healing for you. this makes you feel somewhat guilty for running away from the situation, happy when you could've done more to help, which is why you decide to go back.

he's quiet. usually, he always had something witty to say, but uncharacteristically, he just sighs, pressing his lips into a line. you feel a bit of fear seeping into your bones as his thumb rubs faster against your skin. have you hurt his feelings? have you disappointed him? you don't know what to do but wait for him to speak, tension building out of thin air between the two of you like never before.

"...i see." is all he says when he finally opens his mouth. your heart sinks painfully at the neutral yet icy tone he has, something you haven't really heard from him before. the aura and pressure he subtly gives off isn't helpful either.

the ache in your heart from seeing him like this pushes you to talk, wrapping both your hands around his outreached one. "hannibal, i'm really, really sorry, but—"

he releases your hand, moving his away from yours, making a gesture with that same hand. "darling, you don't have to apologize, i understand what you're thinking from our little psychiatrist sessions together. this was going to happen eventually. i'm just...incredibly sad to lose such precious company, you see. don't worry about me too much and eat your food before it gets cold." he picks up his utensils and starts eating as elegantly as ever, appearing as if the news you just dropped didn't affect him at all. the slight tremor of his lips tells you otherwise. guilt clouds your senses, and you just don't know what else to say to make it better. you just tell him thank you for preparing your food and eat morsel by morsel, not feeling very hungry anymore.

after you're done, you quickly excuse yourself to your room and start to pack up before hearing a knock a few minutes later on your door. you open it, looking up at hannibal. he's as respectful as ever, never barging in as your husband did and waiting patiently at the door until you're ready to answer. you shake your head quickly at yourself. you have to stop comparing them. "hey there. did...did you need something?"

he takes your hand in his. "you can't just expect to leave here without doing me a favor as thanks, right?" his tone is playful and inviting, an excited glow in his eyes, wrinkles crinkling.

"oh." you blink. "yeah...sure."

of course. there's no bill, he made that clear everytime you asked him about what you could do in return. still, you'd do him a favor, you'd do anything to repay his kindness that went above and beyond for you. he did so much for you, just as he had promised, and he never ever asked you for a single penny. you hadn't expected him to come to your room and ask such a thing from you.

though, you wonder what it'd be. he seems to have everything and could get anything else he'd want with the money he's earned. his office is fancy and so is his house. he seems to commission suits tailored perfectly to his build. what could he possibly want from you? you wonder some more, staring at his perfectly aged face. you don't have anything to offer except maybe your company, which he made sure you knew he enjoyed very much. you hesitate after the words leave your mouth though. there's something...odd about this, to say the least, since there's nothing that comes to mind at all.

he squeezes again, his thumb moving, reassuring. "you're quite the sweetheart as always," he smiles, "come follow me, at least." he pulls you along gently, going somewhat slow to prevent you from stumbling out of his grip, considerately taking into account your height difference. you just nod, trusting him as you always have.

it's his bedroom. you've never stepped in here before, never having a reason to come here. the blues are pretty on the ceiling, an accent on the rest of the furniture with luxurious white sheets and a fireplace with two grayscale leather chairs. the old-fashioned look carries from the rest of the house to here in the way the lights are designed, emitting a soft white glow. you don't even process the click of the lock behind you as the door swings shut. you're almost in awe at the elegance and yet...how empty it all feels, like a perfect bedroom that's kept too clean, without any visible personal belongings that show off hobbies save for a sketchbook and an accompanying pencil sitting on the nightstand. maybe those things were in his office since the man always seemed to be working on something, but you hadn't noticed much when you were there, too busy crying or just stopping by quickly when dropping your husband off. it all seems like forever ago.

you're snapped out of your thoughts when you find yourself being guided to kneel on the soft patterned carpet, your body following the careful, gentle direction of his large hands, how they caress your chin, tilting your head up in a certain angle. internally, sirens blare red at the strangeness of this situation, but he's so noble and respectful, and you trust him, he’s never done anything against your wishes before, you trust him so so much, he would certainly never—

"mmmph!"

something strangely foreign and hard presses on your lips. it presses with much more force after that, quickly pushing them apart and sliding down in your throat easily thanks to your saliva, making you practically gag around it. any questions you were going to ask are muffled instantly, your coherent thoughts flying away at the surprise. it's long, it's huge, it's incredibly thick, and it feels like it barely fits in your mouth. you try to pull back, shaking your head in protest, only to feel a firm, familiar hand pressing you onto it even moreso from the back of your head, fingers weaving in your hair, forcing it deeper, running over the small bump of a vein as it does. you gag around it again, struggling to breathe through your nose since your other airway is completely occupied, cheeks forced to hollow to accommodate.

you look up to see hannibal smiling down at you, a confident evil oozing from him as he pushes himself so that more of his length is buried in the warm, wet expanse of your mouth and throat, running over your tongue. that same, everyday smile he always wore before you now lays across his upturned lips, the mystery you once found in it replaced by a twisted horror you never wanted to discover in someone you trusted, in someone you admired and cared about as a dear friend, not just because he helped you, but because he was genuinely good company.

betrayal colors your face red in humiliation as you start to question everything about him, about all the time you've spent this past week, but before you can think too deeply, his hips snap forward and he goes deeper. you make a tiny whine in your throat as his tip hits the back, making way for the rest of him. a pleasured sigh leaves his lips as his now lustful gaze lingers upon you. "god, darling, you are deliciously exquisite. you are everything i've ever imagined you to be." he begins to slowly thrust, seemingly deciding on a slower pace to help you get used to his depth, being the considerate man he is.

you want to scream, you want to run back home to your husband into his loving arms, but you can do nothing but continue kneeling, his hands keeping you in place, the dangerous glint in his eyes warning you not to fight back too hard, not to bite. you lurch back and forth and whimper pitifully as his hips roll faster, deeper. you hate how your vision is filled with nothing but him, not even the blue behind him because of how awfully close he is. you don’t even see the tiny camera recording all of this from behind the bookshelf.

helpless tears stream down your cheeks, even more guilt and shame churning at your insides. as confusing as this situation is, even if it isn't by choice, you still have your last wits to put together the bare bones of what's happening in your mind and feel like you're a horrible, horrible cheater. you opt to close your eyes instead, wanting to block out the disgrace of being taken advantage of like this, for trusting him enough to even get close to this position in the first place. instantly, he stops moving and the hand in your hair tightens its grip, and your eyes widen in a sudden flash of pain.

"sweetie, look at me while i fuck your pretty lips." by the way he pants it out, it's an order you'd be wise to follow. "look. at. me." you don't dare to disobey the command, forcing yourself to watch his expressions change as he begins rutting again. you're unable to stop the image of him violating your throat from burning into your brain with him standing tall and proudly above you, your face going close to and far from the fabric of his unzipped pants too quickly.

he smiles amidst his labor breaths, his once neat, parted hair messy and swept from its part due to his energetic thrusting. "that's right, look at me, my love," he drawls smugly, moving his hands so they're on either side of your head, locking you in place, his hips stuttering, then stiling completely again, snapping your attention back to him with a jolt. you haven't realized how many tears have been streaming down your wet cheeks since you-don't-know-when until now, when they run over his hands and make his palms stick even more to your already splotchy skin. "you're doing so well, taking me in your mouth so deeply like a good girl. it makes me so excited for all the other things we can do together," he mumbles, but it's loud enough for you to hear, sending shivers down your body. you hate how much you practically live for his praise, at how much you seek it out subconsciously, and you don’t understand why that is, but it’s all because of the way he calculated every move to mold you, the way he conditioned you over the course of the week with all the right gestures and words. satisfaction paints his face from seeing the desired results of his hard work, but you can't tell, you're too grossed out on the bruised feeling on your lips to focus on the smirk on his.

it's sick, it's twisted, but you find yourself hanging on to every word he says even in this situation, looking up at him through your lashes with a strangely dazed look in your eyes. you feel awful for even wanting this a tiny bit, for even wanting him a little bit, you feel like there's something wrong with you, like something surfacing within you with every syllable that comes from his smooth voice, his accent a familiar texture, like something awful and rooted deep inside making you entranced to the deranged yet calm look in his gaze. what happened to you to make you feel like this? it terrifies you.

"my dear little wife...now about that favor..." your eyes widen at what hannibal calls you, disgusted, even though something inside you likes the endearment. has that been his goal all along? what has he done to get you here? was this not the favor already? you can't fathom it, not with your head practically spinning from so much happening at once, from all the things that have built up til now, not when your mouth is stuffed to the brim with his thickness, not when he's literally anchored your head on it with his strong, wrinkled hands. you can't wrap your head around it, it's too much, you can't understand how fast this all happened, how you're thrown into this situation without explanation, without understanding how you got here in the first place, without knowing what you did wrong to end up like this.

suddenly, he moves back and forth in a quick motion before you can make any kind of protest, ripping you from your thoughts again to center your attention on him again, earning a surprised muffled moan from you, your thighs clamping together instinctively in response.

even with him calculating every move, to you, his constant unpredictability's got you all jumpy and scared of what he'll do next, of what he'll do without hesitation, mercilessly if you stray a single millimeter from whatever he has planned for you. you feel inevitability corrupting your heart, cornering you, dooming you to the monster you finally see he is, the monster who controls you now, the monster who stares at you with depraved love, with gratitude and expectation.

"...show me how grateful you are for me."

author's note: um...might be inaccurate but i tried my best. i never saw nbc hannibal since i'm kind of scared of seeing the gore lmao (if it’s resident evil level, i think it’s okay), but this show and its characters fascinate me and even without watching, i can see why it's so critically acclaimed. the writing and acting is wonderful from all the clips i see and i can't wait to muster the courage to watch it all one day! can't believe it's ten years old. it's a creative masterpiece. hope this can hold even a single candle to such a beloved series. please let me know if the warnings i wrote above are enough. i'm not really used to writing them and i also don't want to reveal too much of the story by putting too-specific tags. also i'm not used to writing smut oof thank you for reading! <3 (if i make enough works, maybe i'll add a masterlist link here.)

[soldreamss]

[✴] headcanons com o mads, wagner e pedro

— pussy spanking, degradação leve, breeding kink, apelidinhos, thigh riding

— 𝑀ads + pussy spanking

todos os movimentos do mads são bem pensados, até mesmo que parecem naturais. então, no momento que a mão grande entra em contato com a sua buceta, foi de caso pensado, sabendo que você ia reagir do jeito que ele esperava.

você se contorce na cama, um gritinho escapa seus lábios, as pernas automaticamente fecham, não só pelo impacto, mas para tentar conter a sua excitação que escorre vergonhosamente — prova do quanto você gosta quando ele é mais assertivo — mads não luta para esconder o esboço de sorriso nos lábios dele.

silenciosamente, as mãos abrem as suas pernas de novo, te expondo de novo à mão pesada do mais velho que parece gostar demais disso. seus olhos entreabertos se fecham novamente com o impacto, e neste momento você consegue ouvir o sorriso na voz dele quando as palavras são proferidas "você que quis isso, disse que gosta de ser tratada igual puta. então tem que abrir os olhos pra ver se eu tô te tratando do jeitinho que você gosta..."

— 𝒲agner + breeding kink

é uma situação totalmente inviável. você sabe, ele sabe, as paredes em volta sabem... mas imaginar nunca faz mal. por isso, você chora e se empina, se oferecendo descaradamente.

ele ama que você não hesita em fazer seu papel de amante burrinha implorando por um bebê — e consequentemente uma chance com ele também — e ele finge, dá a vida na atuação, finge que te ama, que vai te dar uma chance, que vai te dar um bebê para carregar no ventre.

você choraminga incessantemente querendo mais, ele pensa enfiar algo na sua boca, mas wagner precisa manter o papel de bom homem apaixonado, então ele sussurra "calma meu amor, só mais um pouquinho e eu vou te dar a família que você tanto sonha, tá bom? só mais um pouquinho...".

— 𝒫edro + thigh riding

tudo com pedro parece mais leve, mais fácil, de uma forma até meio preguiçosa, mas ainda sim deliciosa.

pedro ama te satisfazer, não importa como, portanto quando você se encaixou perfeitamente no colo dele, balançando os quadris levemente — testando o território — ele não se surpreende.

o chileno tira a atenção da televisão, posição as mãos na sua cintura, ajudando você com o ritmo gostosinho que já está fazendo efeito. suas mãos se firmam na camiseta dele, tentando não delirar de tanto prazer, ele encosta a testa na sua, selando os lábios com os seus suavemente e diz "tá gostoso, meu bem? deixa eu ver você gozando pra mim... por favor".

[analikalee]

[venusbyline]

sorry Hannigram shippers but i don't wanna be Hannibal's children

I DON'T WANNA HAVE HANNIBAL AS MY FATHER, I NEED HIM AS MY DADDY!!!!

anyway, happy birthday Mads Mikkelsen. the girls and the gays lysm <3

[logansdoe]

need.

Need and control wasn't a good mix. And someone who is in control at all times. The mix of need. A need for you wasn't something he wanted but he craved nonetheless.

Your sweet taste, voice so melodic it fixes him on a song of fascination. Something he had never listened but he was familiar with deep inside.

Hannibal wasn't swayed easily. But the way your tongue pushes against his. The taste of your soft lips. Always prepared for his taking was something that weakend a part of him that he lost years ago.

He wasn't an aggressive man. Well, not when it came to his lovers. But you, you woke a primal part that was gentle with roughness etched at the edges. Handling with utmost care, as if fragility was a concern in his mind.

But the markings of his fascination, care or even, love was always present on your soft skin. The markings that would overshadow the scars. Marks of his declaration. His songs engraved.

When he would feel your soft walls around his pulsing cock. Engulfing him in such a vulnerable state that he could not help but feel an overwhelming sense of power.

His thumb trailing against your jaw before traveling down to your neck. Every breath of yours was his to inhale. Every inch of you was his to consume.

Something dark in him wonders how you'd feel on his tongue. Would you be tough? Perhaps soft like cream? Melting the moment it hits his tongue because you know it is him. Or would you want him to savor you a while longer to profess your love for him with flavors?

Hannibal wonders these thoughts frequently. It makes his heart detach from his mind for just a second to think on its own. To think of you.

a/n: I need to be loved by hannibal. Not even a joke.

wc: 1334

[dolicekiss]

Hey,

could you please write a yandere Hannibal one-shot, where the reader is one of Bedelia‘s ex patients/friends and Will‘s best friend. Will soon knows Hannibal is interested in her,( after she met him,while dropping of Will for therapy) and tries to ^save^ her from him. However Hannibal again has his way and maybe it ebds with smut?

♡: ohmygod i was literally about to write a yandere nigel but this is even better, especially knowing how manipulative hannibal can be !! also, i hope i do this justice, thanks :D

Famished

PAIRING: Yandere!Hannibal x Gullible, mentally disturbed female reader.

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+ only, minors dni) unprotected sex, manipulative hannibal, oral (female receiving) fingering, yandere hannibal, mention of drugging, mentally disturbed reader and traumatized, taking advantage (hannibal is cooking up plans) slight breeding kink, reader is very gullible <3 that's all

SYNOPSIS: After dropping Will Graham to his therapy session and having a run in with his prominent, renowned psychiatrist — Dr. Hannibal Lecter, you become the object of his infatuation and obsession. It is in his best interests to make you fall for him, make you his. Whether it is by his cunning manipulation tactics or his alluring charms.

For the first time ever, Hannibal Lecter found himself lost and in a puzzled position.

He was at a loss of words for the immense amount of adoration and awe swelling in his chest whenever he laid his eyes on you — which was rare. As you only came by when you had to drop your best friend, Will Graham to his office. It wasn't in your daily routine, as you had other things in life that required your attention but whenever you were available and whenever Will needed your help, you were there.

Because he was there when you needed someone.

Hannibal’s brain was quick to recognize you though, after seeing an old file of yours in Bedelia’s office, with your picture inside. It had all your details and Hannibal felt as if it was meant to be. He'd read your file, in the absence of Bedelia. Completely out of character for even someone like him but he knew you.

He knew all of you.

The exchange of pearly smiles between you and Will when he first introduced you to Hannibal was not very pleasing to the eye for the blonde male. Aggravated but hiding behind the mask of politeness, he only returned those smiles and then watched you leave his office.

That same night, both Hannibal and Will were restless. Will because he had noticed the curiosity awakening in Hannibal’s impassive gaze when he took note of you and Hannibal laid restless because of the uneasiness felt ever since you had left his office. He had this, insatiable urge, he felt —famished.

And only you could satiate that hunger of his.

“Hannibal, you appear lost.” Bedelia commented, the dullness of her office somehow matching his own. The two shared similar tastes, no wonder he was associated with her.

He lifted his gaze up from the red carpet covering the entirety of her floor, fingers tucked understand his chin. He was indeed lost, lost in you. Like an alligator, you had consumed him whole and he slightly twitched in the seat.

Hannibal had a plan.

This was the plan.

“I had a run in with one of Will’s associates, who also used to be your patient.” He responded, bitterly referring to you as his associate instead of his friend because even the idea of that burned him with such envy and jealousy.

Will didn't deserve you.

Not as his friend, not as something else.

Bedelia crossed her leg, staring at him with certain curiosity. “I do not break doctor patient confidentiality.”

“I'm aware.” Hannibal responded as quickly as he could, eyeing the woman. His presence was heavy and his gaze was sharp as an eagle's. Nothing missed him, not even the subtle details and minorities of life.

He noticed everything.

Hannibal laid his hands on his lap, mimicking Bedelia as he crossed his leg over the other but with much more authority. “Why did you stop seeing her?”

Bedilia scoffed. “I didn't stop seeing her, she told me her mind had healed. That she didn't need me anymore, that she was fine.” Her voice was laced with subtle bitterness at how you interrupted their sessions. Bedelia felt like she was being called incompetent indirectly by you.

That was all Hannibal needed.

This time you dropped Will off again but this time, he seemed evidently upset with the idea of you running in with Hannibal Lecter again. It was weird to you, how he acted when it came to you crossing paths with his psychiatrist. Hell, you'd even made a joke about not snatching the handsome doctor away from Will.

But he only responded with a sour face, definitely not impressed with your horrible attempt at a joke.

As he exited the car and headed for his office, you watched him but then your eyes captured a wallet and a phone right where Will was sitting. He'd left his belongings behind. You let out a sigh, contemplating whether to give them to him now or later. You didn't care that your bestfriend acted all sour at the mention of crossing paths with Hannibal.

He was uncomfortable with the idea of you meeting his own psychiatrist, now that was weird. You left the car too, with the items in your hand and headed inside. Air chilly against your skin, you smiled at how its soft hands caressed your skin, prickling it slightly but you basked in the feeling.

As you reached the door, you knocked on it and waited for someone to open it. It was peeled open and there stood Hannibal, and a smile broke when he caught you standing there. Cladded in a long coat, which concealed a casual dress behind it. His gaze took you in, drank you like the most finest wine and then he captured the familiar wallet and phone in your hand.

He'd seen it one too many times in the hand of his patient.

“Here to return his belongings, I assume?”

You nodded your head. “He forgot these.”

Extending out your hand with Will’s things in your hand, the door was pulled open more revealing another figure. Will stared at you, a look of annoyance on his face when he found you standing there. He'd told you, even subtly warned you to not ever come to Hannibal’s office but here you were. Breaking the only rule that he presented before you.

You rolled your eyes at Will, his behavior abnormal and different than usual was something you didn't appreciate at all.

Hannibal took the things from you and then handed them over to Will. “I'll take my leave then, goodbye.”

Just like that, you were out of the towering presence of those two. God, was it only your imagination or did it actually feel suffocating being in their presence together — especially after Will had warned you off basically to not come in front of Hannibal Lecter ever. The way he smiled at you, it was sweet but for some reason, goosebumps woke up on your skin.

You shook your head, went home and after a warm shower, curled up in your bed. An attempt to sleep, for the umpteenth time but everytime you rested your eyes, that same nightmare haunted you once more. Adding a new digit to the list as it did. Reminding you of the darkness that would always stay within you. Rooted inside you.

The blood soaked hands, the screams, the shattering of glass — it replayed over and over again. Like a film that was lagging a lot, hesitating to go forward, so all you could do was rewind and watch that same scene over and over.

You woke up, drenched in sweat. Chest heavy and lungs desperate to drag in as much air as they could. It was all too vivid, like it had happened today and not years before when you were only a little girl.

It wasn't easy living with the fact that you had been spared by your kidnapper while he slaughtered your friend, right before your very gaze. You didn't deem it worth it, didn't find yourself worthy enough to be alive, instead of her.

If he'd only killed you too.

— ♡ —

The next day Will had told you he'd pick you up from your house and take you somewhere, somewhere where he could discuss something important with you. It baffled you when the man pulled up to his own house, the irony of it leaving you with certain uneasiness.

“Will, just tell me. Are you jealous?”

That could be the only reason.

He stayed silent, not answering your question before letting out a sigh of what you assumed to be frustration. He shook his head, fingers scurrying to fix his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Eyebrows furrowed and curls resting against his forehead.

“You need to stay away from Hannibal Lecter. He is a dangerous man, a sadist, a cunning bastard.” You blinked at all the profanities Will Graham was suddenly using to describe his own psychiatrist.

You had no idea of his little plan to play along with Hannibal to catch him so this whole situation was extremely uncomfortable for you.

“You're making that up.” You accused him, with a shake of your hand to dimiss his accusations. “If he was such a cunning bastard, he wouldn't be your psychiatrist.”

“Listen to me.” Will’s voice was dangerously low, frustration obvious in it. “Just do what I'm saying. Don't linger around him, don't even drop me off anymore.”

The water was slowly boiling over your heads and it could spill at any moment. Tension rose in the room and you, with your adamant personality, didn't give in. You wanted— no, you needed to know this. Just what the fuck was going on and why were you being kept in the dark?

It made you feel hopeless and almost sad, because to you it seemed as the only paddle in your life didn't really trust you.

“First, stop hiding shit from me. I'm your fucking bestfriend, Will. Just tell me—”

The loud noise of his palms slamming down on the wooden table in his living room made you flinch. Your body jumping as you let out a shriek at the loud noise, not very fond of them ever since the traumatizing event from your childhood. You hadn't expected him to react like this, especially with such aggression.

“Just stay the fuck away from Hannibal Lecter. That's all I'm asking you to do, you can't even do that?” Eyebrows scrunched and disappointment swirling behind those specs of his, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach at his tone, words and his unexplainable behavior.

It all overwhelmed you to the core.

Then a knock interrupted you both.

Will and you turned around and found Hannibal standing behind the net door, his aura slicing through the heavy tension that hung like a knife on your heads. You composed yourself, hands with a tremor reaching out to fix the few loose strands of your messy bun.

You swallowed thickly — once more put in a situation where you had to pretend to be fine for someone else. All because of your own bestfriend.

The fact made you vulnerable, so fucking vulnerable. To the point Hannibal would smell it off you and it gave him the perfect opportunity, laid out on a damn silver platter. Awaiting to be devoured.

“What're you doing here, Hannibal?”

Hannibal’s gaze exchanged between the two of you, pretending as if he wasn't just standing outside eavesdropping on your conversation. It was evident on your face that you wanted to leave, as soon as you could but without Will’s help, you couldn't actually leave. His fucking house was in the middle of nowhere and he was your only ride.

You wrapped an arm around yourself instinctively, a habit you'd adapted to when you were little. In a silly little attempt to protect yourself from the harm you faced as a child.

“Had to discuss something about a case but I guess I chose the wrong timing?” His gaze trailed over you and he took notice of the way your chest fell and rose, how you stood there as if you were cornered and scared, your own arm wrapped around you in a sense to provide the comfort you ached for.

You seemed so perfect like this.

On the verge of breaking.

“I'll be outside.” You didn't even bother grabbing your coat, only reached for the door and left without sparing them both a glance.

The cold hit you like a damn truck, shivers dancing across your spine. Regret consumed you about not grabbing your coat from Will’s hanger but you were too stubborn to go back inside and take it. So you chose to suffer in the cold, sitting by the stairs, staring ahead into the darkness the forest and the night had to offer you.

You thought about Will. His behavior, how he'd spoken to you despite knowing your history and it pained you but as usual, you suppressed it. Your pain didn't matter, how could it matter when you were lucky enough to be left alive while your own friend was slaughtered like some fucking animal?

Knees glued to your chest, you didn't know for how long you stayed there but you felt someone put a coat on you. Your body was quick to absorb the warmth it had to offer and you lifted your head up, hoping you'd find Will but instead Hannibal had shown you more decency than your own friend.

‘Cunning bastard, this?’ You thought.

“Thank you.” You held the coat tightly around your shoulder and noticed it wasn't yours, it was his own. Hannibal had given you his own coat and the bare minimum action, the simple act of kindness, it all was enough to worsen the situation for you right now.

For Hannibal, this was perfect.

You were the perfect prey.

He knew Will would react the way he had — his emotional outbursts were bound to get aggressive and he wanted Will to be on thin ice around you. To make you cautious of him, so that your lonely heart will begin searching for another companion.

Him.

“Your car isn't in the driveway, which means Will is going to drop you off.” He said and stared ahead at the empty space next to Will’s car. “But I suppose you don't really wish to be in his presence right now.”

You slowly nodded.

He was a psychiatrist, a witty one at that. There was no point in lying to the man as you tightened the coat around you. His scent bringing along a sense of comfort. It was warm, a little like nature itself.

“If you allow me, I can drop you off.”

Hannibal extended his hand out, staring down at you and you looked at his hand, then him. It was a moment of silence but help was offered and you slowly slipped your hand into his, as he raised you up from the ground. The touch of your hand, being this fucking fortunate enough to be able to feel you flesh to flesh, Hannibal was over the moon. An itch growing in his thumb to run it lightly over the skin of your knuckles but he somehow with the power of a celestial being restrained himself.

Your perfume had branded his skin.

You had branded his skin.

He lead you to his car and you sat inside, all the while Will watched from his window. There was only so much he could do but he knew that Hannibal’s charm was difficult, nearly impossible to resist. Whether he visited in the form of archangel azrael, a companion or a foe.

He was still going to be in control.

The car ride was silent when it began. Your gaze lingering over the passing street lamps, blurring in your vision as a lone tear slid down your cheek. Akin to the person you were, lonely and isolated.

“I could sense the tension in the air.” Hannibal’s soft voice sliced through the silence. “Are you alright?”

You turned to him and nodded. “Just a small misunderstanding, that is all.”

It was, infact, not a misunderstanding. Hannibal knew why you seemed this heartbroken, about the incident that occurred to you as a child, about Will’s outburst and how it terrified you.

Like a ripe fruit, you were all raw and vulnerable. Ready to be consumed by him, to be savored by him, to get rid of his insatiable hunger.

Hannibal believed he could fix you — by not fixing you at all. A broken masterpiece you were and he'd be damned if he tried to put back the pieces together. He preferred the picture he saw right now more.

“He should not have raised his voice at you.”

Your gaze lifted up. “You heard it?”

He nodded, while swiftly taking a turn into a street. “I did not mean to pry, my deepest apologies. I managed to arrive exactly at the time when he was having his outburst.”

“It's fine.” Your head hung low as you played with your fingers in your lap. Hannibal noticed, writing it down in his little mental diary he'd kept in his head. “I don't understand why he behaved the way he did. It was, upsetting.”

You mumbled the last word, shaking your head. Hannibal glanced your way. “You were under Bedelia's care, no?”

By now, you'd come to know that the two were friends and knew each other. But deep down you hoped that they hadn't discussed you like some curse, like some ugly freak who magically survived a cruel man while her friend got swallowed.

“Yes.” You whispered. “Her ways to heal the human mind are, peculiar.”

To be honest, Bedelia seemed like a woman who cared more about the influence and power she had on you than your well-being and that feeling of forced incompetence along with other things became the reason of your end with her.

Hannibal chuckled, barely.

It was just there and you heard it for a single moment. “Did you not find her treatment appropriate?”

“I didn't deem her fit to be my doctor,” you picked at the skin around your nails out of habit. “honestly, I don't find anyone fit to be my doctor.”

There was silence.

But Hannibal soon spoke. “Could the feeling that only you're capable of understanding your mind because of you going through what you did be the cause of this?”

Jesus, the man was spot on.

It slightly unnerved you.

“Are you analyzing me, Dr. Lecter?” There was soft sarcasm your voice was laced with as you smiled.

The man stared straight ahead. “Maybe, would you mind allowing me to analyze you at my office over a glass of wine?”

You knew you couldn't go back to your lonely house, especially after the remnants of Will’s behavior affecting you the way they did. The sound of his palms slamming down on the wood echoed in the back of your mind and you had no other option than to agree to Hannibal’s offer.

But poor you, it was all part of his plan.

He'd read your file, thoroughly, well aware of your triggers and your mind. How it worked, processed things, he knew it all and the wicked man used it to his advantage. To lure you in like a prince charming only to shift into a hideous beast.

When you made it to his office, the man had offered you the finest of wine. The most expensive one, all the way from Florence and you could practically taste italy in the bottle — delicious, warm and fruity. You reveled in each sip as you sat across the man on his table, flipping through a book about the human mind.

You enjoyed reading books, found solace in them and Hannibal had all the more to offer.

“I can't believe you've got these many books.” You pointed out, lifting your eyes up at the man who was now coming down from the ladder with multiple books in his arms. It was sweet how he was offering you his book, his wine, his company because somewhere he knew you needed it.

Loneliness was a slow death.

Poison so bitter but painful, it tore you apart piece by piece.

He ambled his way towards you, taking a seat on the chair and placing the books right in front of you on the table. “These are nothing. I own a library too.”

Your eyes widened. “You're kidding.”

Hannibal’s heart skipped a beat at how your eyes expanded in sheer shock, his lips expressing a small smile. You seemed akin to a child in that moment, innocent and appalled by the idea.

“No, dear. I'm fortunately not.” He replied, hands settled on the table. “I could take you there.”

“I'd love to go.” You were quick to reply back but then composed yourself a little, not wanting to come across as desperate. You began coursing through the book, reading the contents of it simultaneously sipping your wine.

Then Hannibal spoke. “You seem disturbed, dear.”

You stopped reading and looked at him, with a confused expression before realizing what he meant. Will’s behavior had left you in a great deal of confusion as well as underlined fear. It was stomach churning, when you remembered how dark his eyes were or how angry he appeared. All too similar to the fragments of the man that had abducted you during you childhood.

“He reminded me of him.” You blunted out, not really caring anymore to conceal your emotions and fears. It had to be how vulnerable you were seeming, craving human companionship and attention. To be comforted and reassured that nothing was wrong with you.

Hannibal leaned forward. “Of who?”

“The man who took me.” Your fingertip danced over the stamped ink on the beige piece of paper, gaze following along the letters and lines. “Every aggressive man reminds me of him.”

“Your fear of aggressive men stems from your childhood, as one had taken you. It is no surprise you'd feel uneasiness in Will’s presence now.” Hannibal was right. These heightened emotions of fear and discomfort would only consume you if you continued seeing Will in the light that he had presented himself in.

He was your friend. Your best friend, the man who was always there — to be your paddle and to be your pillar but now you were scared of him. Of everything, the whole situation to stay away from Hannibal. You were right in his office and so far, he had brought you no harm at all.

Only provided you with company.

“He told me to stay away from you.” The lump in your throat began to grow. If you had a gut feeling, it had definitely melted in the presence of Hannibal. Blinded by his charm and his long blonde strands hovering over his forehead. “It was confusing, Dr. Lecter. It was— too much. He repeated it like a broken record, over and over again. Ordered me even and I don't understand why he was telling me to be this cautious when you're his psychiatrist.”

Hannibal and you made eye contact, for a brief moment before you averted your gaze from him, lacking the courage to look straight into his penetrating eyes.

“Will is unstable.” Hannibal stated, as he caressed his own hand with the fingers of the other. “I have no intention to ruin the camaraderie you both have but his attempt to kill me tells me enough about his mind.”

Your eyes expanded.

Will tried to do what?

And the fact that Hannibal seemed so unbothered about it and continued seeking him as a patient. It was like Bedelia’s case all over again, except hers actually ended meanwhile Hannibal continued giving Will his time and effort.

“But why? I don't get it and you're still seeing him—just, what is going on?” Stressed and frustrated, feeling like you were being kept in the dark, you brought your fingers upto your forehead and began massaging it. It was too much for you, especially when you had your own battles to fight.

Hannibal reached for you, his own hand placed above yours. In silent comfort. “Will is my friend, or so I see him as one. He's unstable and his acts of impulsivity are my responsibility to fix although—”

He stopped and tilted his head. “I can see it is beginning to affect you too.”

You sighed, as you didn't remove your hand from underneath his. Only watching him with a gaze clouded in confusion. This was all like plates shattering over and over on the top of your head and still there is no bleeding, only the throbbing pain that increased with time.

Maybe Hannibal was right.

He was his doctor after all. Will appeared unstable, especially after his behavior tonight and the complexity of the situation terrified you.

“It is humiliating to be flesh.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you finished all your wine. The sound of Hannibal’s chair scraping against the floor caught your attention and you watched as he rose up from his seat and walked towards you. In his hand was a sketchbook that he'd retrieved from his table.

He stood next to you, placing the sketchbook over your book and then leaning down. The close proximity should've made you uncomfortable, should've sent you scurrying out of his office but because of how gentle he was, you didn't budge. “Open it.”

Your fingers with a subtle tremor in them reached for the crisp edge of the sketchbook and you flipped it open revealing the art of pencils. Humans, bodies, organs, they were all presented to beautifully and you looked up at Hannibal.

Face a few inches apart.

“You made this?”

He nodded.

You flipped through a few more and resisted the urge to caress the face of the greek personalities he'd drawn. They were so beautiful, as beautiful as him and you didn't find yourself uncomfortable like how you expected you would when laying eyes upon the more —gruesome part of his art.

It was beautiful.

“This is truly spectacular.” You commented in a whisper as you raised your stare from the sketches and looked up at him. Your lips were only a few inches apart and Hannibal found himself completely captivated by you. The sheer vulnerability and raw pain in your gaze was tugging him towards his arousal, undeniable and strong for you.

He swallowed as his dark eyes took in the sight of your lips.

And you repeated his actions, staring at his lips in return.

It all happened too fast. He'd kissed you, hand reaching to brush the hair behind your shoulder, then moving to grasp your face in it as he delved deeper. Hannibal was holding back so much, concealing the animal that he was from you, hiding beneath the cloak of a gentle demeanor and a beautiful face. His thumbs swiped over your cheek in gentle brush strokes as he pried your lips open, inserting his tongue.

Draping it around your own, the kiss grew intense and this was the first time you'd ever gotten involved with a man like this. It was too inundating but it also felt extremely good as you had denied yourself this pleasure for so long.

Hannibal’s hands slithered down to your waist, to circle around it curve of it as he raised you from the chair, lifting you up to place you down on the table. Still your height couldn't accommodate with his, neck craned up to kiss him. He soon broke the kiss, forehead pressed against yours as his warm breath mingled with yours.

“It is not humiliating to be flesh, rather special and profound.” He whispered, in response to your sentence from earlier as you gazed up at him. Eyes clouded by desire as your heart swelled with finally feeling like you were being understood. Hannibal understood you.

The connection you felt with him was intense.

The man leaned, and you expected him to kiss you again but this time he chose to attack your neck, peppering kisses all over the unmarked skin. His hands rested by your side, fingers digging into the wooden desk to keep the monster inside him at bay. He was too overwhelmed by his wanton for you but you were a fragile little thing.

He couldn't scare you, not yet.

His teeth dug into your skin, biting and tugging like some beast and you winced in response. It felt good but it was something you hadn't tried with anyone before. You've had sex before— one boy and he was nowhere near the same level as Hannibal. Just by biting on your skin, the man had you squirming.

“If Will finds out—”

He silenced you by pressing a finger on your lips. “Will shouldn't care. You're a mature, independent, grown woman. You know what you want, don't you?”

You nodded.

He was treating you like an adult, rather than some broken little doll. But that was Hannibal’s play, he knew that you craved the validation, you wanted to get treated like an adult and not some damaged person. After being in therapy, people almost treated you as you were some mentally unstable person who didn't know what she wanted. A broken, deranged person that didn't know better.

Hannibal made you feel differently, in such a short amount of time.

“So beautiful.” He whispered, as his fingers moved to the buttons of your dress. He unbuttoned each, swiftly proving that he was an experienced man and then his hands rose up to your shoulders, slipping the dress off and exposing the bare skin.

Your breath hitched and in a couple of minutes, Hannibal had completely rid you of any clothes. His own blazer soon came off, followed by his tie and then his shirt. Before you could reach for the buckle of his dress pants, he scoped you up in his arms and took you over to the couch. Lips pressed against yours, he bit harshly on your lower lip, enough to draw blood and somehow you enjoyed this aggressive manner of his kissing.

He laid you down on the couch and crawled on top of you, his knee settled between your thighs. You whimpered upon contact with his clothed knee as he traveled down, while leaving kissing against your skin, face buried between your thighs. The man held you open to his lascivious gaze, pressing a soft kiss against your clit causing you to shudder. Your thighs twitched in response and he loved how your body responded to his touch.

You were a delicious fucking sight.

He licked a long stripe across your cunt and your back lifted off the couch in anticipation. Hannibal pushed you back down, both his hands holding you firmly down on the couch, his arm prying your thighs further open. Closing his lips around your clit, he sucked feverishly and you cried out. It felt too fucking good.

One hand released you, dropping between your legs. His fingers ran up and down your cunt, coating themselves in the slick of your arousal and then slowly, he added a finger into you. He was gentle with it and stared up at you, mouth still continuing its assault on your clit while holding eye contact. Tears danced on your waterline, waiting for that one single push to slide down in rivulets on your face.

His finger picked up its pace then he added another. Your wet walls clung tightly onto his fingers, pulling them in and he reveled in all the little sounds you and your body kade. The whimpers you released, the wet sounds of your greedy pussy and the ragged breathing escaping you.

“How do you feel, Darling? How good am I making you feel with just my mere fingers?”

Hannibal’s voice had fallen a few octaves lower, deep and rough. You parted your lips open to speak but the wicked man curved his finger and your lips only let out a gasp, eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. He grinned at your reaction. “Answer me.”

You swallowed down another whine threatening to run out of your throat. “It feels amazing, Hannibal. Just —so good.”

He added a third finger and curved them altogether, hitting them against the little sponge of pleasure inside you, rapidly and with increasing speed. Your hands traveled down to grip on his golden strands, fisting them as he continued licking across your cunt and fucking you with his fingers.

Then he stopped.

Dropping all his movement.

His tongue replaced his fingers causing you to buck your hips in anticipation and need, aching for more. Hannibal was feasting on you and he wasn't going to stop anytime soon. He was beyond it. Not possessing any sort of self control anymore.

Fingernails digging into the side of your hips, he dragged them down into your skin as he hungrily ate you out. Tongue plunging in and out of your tiny hole, licking and savoring the taste of you. You were fucking sweet, heavenly and delicious. Hannibal’s mind was clouded by his lust, his ache for you. How he wished he could trap you inside thess walls of his office, of his home and never let you out ever again.

Even the sun and moon didn't deserve to capture the sight of you.

“Hannibal, I'm close.” You whined, thighs shaking as your stomach churned with a foreign feeling. It was going to be fucking intense, you knew it because of how much you were shaking.

He looked up at you. “Come for me, Darling. Make a mess.”

Your stomach clenched and twisted at his words and you soon unfurled underneath him. Thighs suffering from perpetual convulsions and eyes seeing white, rolling to the back of your head. Blood pumping in your chest, spreading like wildfire in your veins as your forehead perspired. The searing pain from your tight grip on his hair only hardened his cock, as it stirred against his thighs. Hannibal reveled in the pain you inflicted upon him.

He rose up from between your legs and your overstimulated pussy throbbed at the sight of him. Your orgasm dripped down his chin, plump lips glossy and covered in the juices you'd produced. Face messy and flushed, he stared back at you with a hazy look in his darkened eyes.

When you came down from your high, you found Hannibal completely naked. Long gone were his dress pants and underwear and your were taken aback at the length of his cock as well as the girth. The first and last time you slept with someone, their size was nowhere the same as Hannibal. The drastic change was slightly overwhelming for you, it even terrified you a little.

He took a seat on the couch, at the end of your feet and then pulled you up, settling you on top of his thighs. Holding you in his muscular arms, the man held the tip of his cock against your hole and then slowly sat you down.

You head fell against his shoulder, face buried in his neck. Being able to feel him like this, sinking all the way down to the hilt, you could only whimper. Hannibal made you feel so full and it was only the beginning.

You felt his fingers trapping your cheeks between them, as he pulled your face out of its hiding spot. Four fingers resting on one side while his thumb squeezed the other. Tears sprung out, sliding across your cheeks and crashing into his digits. You sniffled as he stared at you. Eyes lacking emotions and face still. Hannibal was a man who possessed immense control over himself, he couldn't give away his obsession for you.

“You will look at me.” He commanded, voice thick with need. “As I fuck your little cunt and make you unravel on my cock, you will not move your gaze away from me. Understood?”

You could only nod.

His grip tightened on your cheeks and you winced, lips forming a forced pout. You knew what that little act meant and you parted your lips, managing to mumble out, “Yes, I understand.”

Hannibal nodded, satisfaction glimmering in his dark eyes as he released your face. Both hands now settled on your hips, he began to move you up and down with your help. You gasped every time you felt his cock graze against your wet wells, the feeling consuming your ability to think. Your nails managed to draw blood from his skin but Hannibal didn't care. He wanted you to leave more marks, brand him as his, make him yours.

Oh he was already yours.

“Move, Darling.” You started to move too, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down on him. Over and over again, it was repetitive and Hannibal’s face was full of pleasure. His grip tight and firm on your hips, almost as if he were trying to seperate the flesh from the bone.

But you liked it.

He held you like he didn't want you to disappear.

You fucking loved that.

You both stared into each other's eyes, Hannibal’s domineering stare overpowering yours an you nearly made the grave mistake of shutting your eyes but the little pinch on your waist made you peel them back open as fast as you closed them.

“Don't be disobedient now. I expected better from you.” You could sense the disappointment in his voice and you shook your head, still riding his cock and clenching around him everytime you felt his tip bruise your sensitive spot.

You stared at him, through a blurred vision. “You're intimidating—” You sputtered, the sentence breaking. “when you stare at me like this, its intimidating.”

“Do I scare you?”

You shook your head. “No, you're beautiful.”

That was enough to cause Hannibal to become a mess. Fuck, he was all over the place and unfortunate enough for you, you couldn't see it but the man was a mess on the inside. The skipped beating of his heart, the way his eyes were almost turned into little crescents, the smile lines appearing for a split moment before vanishing.

You felt him press his lips against yours, this time in a rough kiss. Arms circled tightly around you. He kissed you like a wild beast having its feast, enjoying its food. His teeth grazed against yours when you opened your mouth, lips against lips, tongue dancing with tongue. Salivas mixing together, it was too messy and you felt the mixed saliva dripping down your chin. He lapped at your wet muscle, sucking on it.

All the while he slammed you down on his hard cock and you let out a high pitched whine into his mouth. That action alone was enough for his cock to harden even more inside you, his hands now unwrapping from your waist and toying with your bare breasts.

“Such a tight little pussy—” He grunted, head thrown back. “so fucking tight.”

Fingers rolling your nipples between them, tugging and massaging the soft flesh. The searing kiss, the sensitive touch of his fingers against your breasts, the slow and rough thrusts of his cock — all of it combined pulled you near another orgasm.

Your toes curled at each thrust and then Hannibal switched the position, laying you down on the couch and getting on top of you with his cock still inside you. Grabbing you by your ankles, he placed them on his shoulders and began to fuck you at an animalistic pace.

“Hanni—" You cried out, lips agape and tears continuously falling down.

He didn't stop. His bangs were sticking to his forehead, a snarl making its way to his face and that was the hottest thing you'd ever seen. To the point it made you tighten around him. “You're mine. You're mine to fuck, mine to claim, mine to own and possess.”

You took those words as something said in the heat of the moment but Hannibal? Oh he was serious. He meant each and every word, every syllable came straight from the darkness in his heart.

His hips snapped and your stomach went crazy into knots. “Please, please. Harder, please Hannibal.”

You were crying out for him at this point. Your hand reaching out to touch his chest but he didn't allow you, grabbing both of your hands and pinning them above your head on the couch. Bending your knees to the point they were pushed against your chest, his face grew closer to yours. Staring deeply into your soul and that moment felt intimate more than anything you'd ever experienced in the world.

“My pretty Darling.”

You swallowed.

Just his dark gaze. You could live your whole life while being captured in those obsidian eyes.

Snaps growing relentless, he kept fucking you till you came all over his cock. Your orgasm slipping out in the form of liquid, making a mess everywhere. Staining his couch, his chest, his cock. Leaving evidence of the sexual encounter between the two of you in a moment. Hannibal let out a chuckle — deep and soft. Music from heaven to your ears.

You almost ascended to heaven from how good it felt. His cock still thrusting up against your cervix, bruising your spot and continuing its assault. Your sensitive body hadn't even calmed down, still twitching and shivering but Hannibal didn't seem it fit to stop.

A low growl rumbled from his chest as the sound of skin against skin grew, reverberating against the walls of his office. With a loud groan, he also spilled inside you. Coating your walls white, throbbing and pulsating inside you. Filling you up to the brim and he didn't care if you were to get pregnant.

Hannibal was a father once.

To his little sister Mischa.

He wouldn't mind having a child of his own, especially with you.

He fucking loved filling you up and he'd make sure to do it again. After all, you were his now.

The man slowly adjusted himself underneath you on the couch, making you lay on top of his to the side. Arms wrapping tightly around you, he held you pressed against his chest as you came down from your high. His hand brushing your hair gently, caressing your forehead.

Only the fire crackling in the fireplace could be heard, mixed with the soft uneven rhythms of your breathing. You couldn't believe you'd slept with Hannibal, right after your best friend had a literal outburst about it. Guilt took over and you slowly sat up, grabbing Hannibal’s shirt from the floor to cover yourself up with it.

“You're thinking.” He commented.

You looked at him and sighed. “I have this guilt consuming me.”

Hannibal reached over, brushing your hair behind. Playing with the strands. “Why's that?”

“Will is unstable, and I have been there too. I should have heard him out instead of running away from him.” You sighed, shoulders slumped. Hannibal didn't like that, he didn't like that you were feeling bad now. After all he'd done, he couldn't have you feeling bad for Will.

“You reacted according to your trauma, it is completely valid. You were in a situation where you didn't feel safe, so you removed yourself from it.” Thumb caressing against your cheek, he smiled. It was subtle. “You should prioritize yourself more often.”

Somewhere Hannibal was right too.

You leaned against his chest, closing your eyes. Then you felt a stinging sensation in the back of your nape. It hurt but it wasn't extreme, like something had pierced you. Just then you looked up and saw Hannibal already staring at you.

Your vision became distorted.

“Hannibal..?” You called out, confused and in a daze. “What's happening?”

“Go to sleep, Darling. You'll be alright soon enough.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and fear filled you up. Just what was happening? The man held you in his embrace, caressing your cheek as you slowly lost all control of your limbs and fell against his chest.

Darkness dragged you in, from your feet and the last thing you remembered was seeing Hannibal with a syringe in his hand.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Cockwarming with Hannibal

Request: I was wondering if you could do a Hannibal fanfic of the reader cockwarming Lecter at his desk while he's working? Ane they're both angry about it? Throthing at th mere thought of it- thank you ❤️

Hannibal is a huge fan of cockwarming…when he isn’t busy. 

If he is busy he can’t just stop his work to fuck you 

So that brings us to now where Hannibal is busy with paperwork and you are on his lap, dick inside. 

He’s harder than he’s ever been and needs release but has to finish this first. 

He figured that being inside of you would make him feel better but it made it worse. 

The feeling of being inside of you made the urge to fuck you worse. 

It wasn’t helping that you were trying not to move either. 

Hannibal was trying to stay focus but with your warm tight cunt squeezing him, it made it impossible 

He nearly let out a groan and his hips almost bucked up. 

“Hanni.” You whined as he had a tight grip on your hips so you couldn’t move. 

You were suffering and so was he. You just didn’t hide it well. 

“After this is done.” He groaned but you protested and tried to move your hips. 

He let out a sigh, annoyed that you wouldn’t stop trying to move but also just annoyed that this paperwork wasn’t getting done fast enough. 

It wasn’t until you soaked his cock even more that he threw the pen down, “fuck it.” He growled and grabbed your hips, thrusting up into you.