Hiii I Also Have An NBC Hannibal Request, If That's Okay

Hiii 💗 i also have an NBC Hannibal request, if that's okay

Uhh so maybe an imagine where the reader has been sa'd before in her previous relationship so she's kind of hesitant to go further with Hannibal when they start dating. One night while making out, Hannibal maybe steps a little out of line and that puts reader into an anxiety attack. But he calms her down and reassures that he will always prioritize her safety and consent and that he loves her 🥹

Pairings || Hannibal Lecter x Female!Reader

Contents/Warnings || Anxiety attack, some details and mentions of SA

Gif found on pinterest from the user sydney14well

You had only been dating Hannibal for a few months now, and everything had been wonderful. He was such a gentleman, and understanding about your boundaries and past, especially your past experiences with sexual assault. Your previous boyfriend was terrible to you, abusive and manipulative. He overstepped every boundary you had, often forcing you past your comfort zones and making you do things you never wanted to do, and pushing you into sexual acts that were only pleasurable for him. The breakup was long and drawn out thanks to him, and it only made you feel worse mentally.

The whole relationship put you off of dating for two years until you met Hannibal, and things just felt right with him. You were grateful to have Hannibal as your boyfriend, and in your life at all, but despite his kindness and respect towards you, you were still hesitant to go further than kissing him. He was careful and diligent with not making you uncomfortable, wanting you to enjoy every moment with him without being reminded of your past relationship.

About six months into dating, you found yourself in Hannibal’s house, having a dinner date with an array of food that Hannibal had prepared for the two of you. It was a calm night filled with good conversation, good food, good wine, good everything. You both made the decision that you would stay the night with him, not wanting you to drive with any alcohol in your system. It wasn’t uncommon for you to spend the night once in a while, being able to comfortably sleep beside him without anything handsy happening.

The two of you eventually ended up sitting on the edge of his bed, a heated make-out taking place. The amount of wine you had was making you a little more relaxed than usual while doing this, up until you felt Hannibal’s hand. It rested on your knee for a moment before you felt it slowly slide up your thigh. Hannibal had only ever touched your face and shoulders, never venturing lower than that. Your fight or flight kicked in, and you quickly shoved his hand away, jumping back a bit on the bed and almost falling off.

Hannibal stopped immediately, “Y/N..” He began, but he was cut off seeing tears begin to fall down your face. You sat against the headboard while covering your face with your hands, remembering everything your ex had ever done to you. Hannibal stayed calm, whispering that he was apologetic about what he had done, and telling you to breathe and asking if you needed him to do anything for you to help. He didn’t touch you, giving you space on the bed for you to calm down.

As you calmed, sniffling and breathing heavily, Hannibal spoke up, “It won’t happen again, Y/N, I promise. Your comfortability is my top priority, I just got a little carried away,” His voice was soft and loving. “Tell me what I can do for you.”

You let out a long sigh, finally being able to breathe normally again, “I’m okay, it just made me… remember some things,” You rub your face tiredly, “I’m sorry I freaked out like that…”

Hannibal shakes his head, “Don’t apologise, you didn’t do anything wrong,” He assures you, “Would you like me to run you a bath to relax?”

“Yes, thank you..” You watch as he rises from the bed, standing in front of you for a moment, “We don’t have to do anything, ever, if you aren’t comfortable with it. And I will always respect whatever you choose,” He says, giving you a comforting smile before disappearing into the bathroom.

You watch him go, wondering how you ended up with such a caring man after such a terrible one.

to have and to hold

dozens of unfinished works? yes. however - hugh dancy.

your entrance into the bedroom does not startle will, though it concerns him how long the stretch of time between his soft fall onto the mattress and yours has taken.

you're careful when you climb into bed, letting your weight distribute rather than letting it create a sudden dip into the mattress like will tends to do. he doesn't understand why you're so gentle, knowing he's awake.

your fingers find their was to will's hair instantly, your body turning to try and distinguish the details of his face in the dark. he's been perched, poised, positioned and eagerly waiting your arrival like an animal awaiting its owner. it's something will will keep to himself - just for you and him.

“finished grading all the papers?” your voice comes out softly, your question genuine.

will nods, knowing you’ll feel his answer even if you can’t see it. he can't help but wonder, though - the roles are usually reversed, your ears always perking at the first clue that will is ready to come to bed.

“you were on tattlecrime again,” you state rather than act.

this takes will by surprise.

he can't discern your tone; he can't tell if it's an inquiry or an accusation you've thrown at him, if there's disappointment laced within your words or something more akin to concern.

whatever it is, he doesn’t like this feeling; the feeling that he’s been caught.

will wonders if this is on purpose; your fingers on his scalp, soothing him with a false sense of comfort while you prepare an attack - an ambush.

no. you’re not like that.

will nudges your hand away from his head, holding in loosely in his hand and landing somewhere near his heart.

“i could just tell,” you answer the quiet questions will kept to himself. “you’re quieter today.”

so that’s what gave him away. no evidence, no retrieved search history or peeking over his shoulder.

you just knew him. you knew his intricacies and his patterns. you knew his design.

“i’m sorry,” will whispers because he still can’t tell if there’s a resentment you’re hiding somewhere.

“for what?” you laugh lightly and will sees your face now, just barely in the cracks of light desperate to creep through, as you scoot closer.

your laugh isn’t mocking. you’re not like that.

will's not sure exactly what he's sorry for.

"there's nothing to be sorry about," you mutter, hands reaching for the scruff on will's jaw.

he's not ashamed to admit he leans into you, eyes closed and hands begging you not to stop. he needs this to think, he rationalizes, to take the mess in his brain and put it into words.

the awful feeling in his stomach has gone away; or, at the very least, subtly subsided.

"do you want to go back to the field?"

"there's no back," will corrects. "they never let me on."

you've shifted, clasping will's hand and facing him completely - directly.

there's a mix of feelings in the pit of will's stomach, guilt and responsibility among them. a responsibility to you and a responsibility to them.

"i feel like i have to," will breathes out. "i have to help save lives."

"there'll be someone else to do it if you won't."

will looks into your eyes to try and decipher your words - the excuse you offer because there's nobody like will.

so perhaps you'd like to be selfish with him.

you know you won't wash will's sense of obligation away so easily - you've seen how he teeters, still close to investigations without ever fully breaching the line of no return. teaching others, pointlessly, a method they will never be able to replicate.

"you're already helping," you assure quietly - also pointlessly. "those trainees have got the best teacher they could've gotten."

you press a kiss to will's brow and he grins, shifting closer until your noses are inches away. your exhales tickle him and he wills his eyes not to close - not to put a stop to the way he drinks you up.

"i want you to be happy," you whisper, words fanning over will's lips.

will's face grows confused, his eyebrows scrunching and the corners of his mouth turning. he doesn't take his eyes off yours as he presses your knuckles to his lips, closing your fingers over his.

"you make me happy."

the two of you lie still, words encompassing you like a blanket. you feel warm, unaffected by the slight chill in the house.

will presses a soft kiss to your lips. then another. then another.

he holds you close as he kisses you and in the moments after, pulling you to his chest as your eyes begin to settle.

it was just a question, anyway. it wasn't like anyone was asking will to work on the field.

you manage a goodnight as your eyes flutter shut, the rise and fall of will's chest lulling you to sleep.

"goodnight," will calls back, unsure of your level of consciousness.

now how is he going to tell you about jack crawford's request?

i am nine (9) episodes into season one of hannibal and am thoroughly in love with will graham.

Hello! I am still on break but I will be back soon. In the meantime, please enjoy this piece commissioned by @dragonrider9905 . I had fun painting this. I hope you like!

You can find my commission info here.