Hannigram X Reader - Blog Posts

Hannigram with an s/o that got hurt on the job

They know your job is rough, you work for the police force, so obviously getting hurt is gonna happen eventually.

They just didn’t expect to get a call from the hospital at almost 2 in the morning.

They rushed to get dressed, tripping over themselves as they threw on some clothes.

The person on the phone didn’t tell them how bad it was, only that you had been shot and had to get stitches.

Hannibal drove, seeing as Will was too anxious to do so.

They may have went a little over the speed limit, but that’s nobody’s business.

Will almost yelled at the lady working the front desk because it was taking too long to find out what room you were in.

Hannibal held Will’s hand, gently pulling him when a doctor started leading them to your room.

You were in the bed, a nurse wrapping bandages around your arm when they walked in.

Will rushed over, asking you a thousand questions a minute.

Hannibal managed to calm him, asking you how this happened.

You told them the story. The suspect had a gun, shot at you, landed a bullet in your side, and managed to push you onto some broken glass when he ran.

Will held your hand the entire night, afraid to let go.

Hannibal sat next to the bed, gently tracing small pattern into the bandages to help you relax.

All in all, you weren’t let out of the house for a while, and they made sure you didn’t strain yourself practically at all.

Okay so I was in a country song bing for a good couple of hours and all I can think about is hannigrahm with a country s/o (preferably gn) who isn't shy at all but will absolutely put their hat on their heads (the meaning if that is like staking a claim or save a horse ride a cowboy)

A Night To Remember

Hannigram with a country s/o

They met you at a bar, a celebration for breaking a case, as Jack had told them.

You were on the stage, playing the guitar and singing softly for all the patrons to hear.

Hannibal watched you with interest, eventually catching your eye.

You winked at him before tipping your hat, finishing up the song you were singing.

You thanked everyone for listening before hopping off the stage and heading over to the bar, right over to Hannibal and Will.

You ordered something strong, turning to Hannibal as it was being made.

“You look like a fancy fella. What brings you ‘round here?” You asked him, starting the conversation fairly easily.

After you got your drink you hung around them, spending some time trying to crack Will out of his shell.

You bought them a round of shots, making a toast to friendship before downing it easily.

Will swished his around in the small shot glass before he took it, wincing slightly at the burn.

You teased him about it for a few minutes before taking off your hat and placing it on his head.

You gave them your number before leaving the bar, telling them to call you.

Alana laughed when she saw you place your hat on Will’s head, knowing the meaning of the whole ordeal.

Will clearly did not know, as he kept the hat on.

Eventually, Alana told him, trying to hold back her laughter when she saw his face of shock.

When Will got home he called you almost immediately, wanting to ask why you put your hat on his head.

You responded accordingly. “I thought you were cute, sugar.”

You laughed when you heard him stumble over his words slightly.

”Meet me at the bar tomorrow night. 6:30. I’ll get my hat back and we can talk. Get to know each other.”

Will agreed, mostly because he wanted to return your hat, but also because he wanted to get to know you a bit.

Hannibal helped him get ready, even offering to go with. Will denied, saying he could do it on his own.

When he met you there, he immediately asked you why you put your hat on him again.

“I told you, darlin’. I thought you were cute.” You said with a smile, taking a sip of your drink.

You two hung out all night, eventually going back to your place late at night, both of you tipsy.

Will woke up on the couch with a blanket over him and a plate of food on the coffee table.

He ate, got dressed(when did he get undressed?) and left your house.

He went home and told Hannibal about the night.

You three hung out more and more, eventually all of you fell in love.

You were the one to ask them out, jealous of a drunk who was hitting on them at the bar.

They were a bit shocked, sure, but they easily accepted your confession, confessing that they too were in love with you. (A/n: Thank you so much for the request! I thought it was really cute! I hope you like it, I tried my best to get the country aspect right, as I am not the biggest country fan. I’m sorry if it’s a little short!)

Hannigram with a silent s/o

Hannibal and Will first met you at a crime scene after you scared them. You were there to photograph evidence, and you ended up accidentally sneaking up on them.

Will almost had a heart attack when you tapped on his shoulder.

Hannibal kept his eye on you as you worked, noticing how silent you were even when talking.

Will was impressed, usually no one can sneak up on him easily, so when you did he was surprised.

Eventually Will worked up the courage to talk to you. With Hannibal by his side of course.

You were extremely polite, offering to show them some pictures you took when they asked about your job.

Hannibal offered dinner at his place, and you accepted.

Hannibal made sure not to use a lot of human meat when preparing your dish, but used some in his and Wills.

You showed up in one of your best outfits, an expensive bottle of wine in your hands.

Hannibal let you in while Will set the table.

You walked behind Hannibal, silent as ever as you looked around slightly.

Safe to say, Will was surprised when you walked into the dining room.

Will set the table, smiling at you slightly when he set your plate down in front of you.

You were quiet throughout dinner, only speaking when spoken too and keeping your answers short and simple, but informative.

Eventually the dinner came to an end and you had to go home.

After that, you kept coming over for dinner, each and every time Hannibal invited you, you accepted.

After the 10th or 11th dinner Will and Hannibal asked you to be theirs, and you accepted shyly.

about a month after dating you moved in by Will’s request.

They noticed that you loved exploring the house, and so they never stopped you when you did, but you always managed to sneak up on them.

Eventually, Will ordered little bells to sew onto your clothes to help keep track of you.

You still manage to sneak up on them sometimes when you find a piece of clothing that doesn’t have a bell on it.

They love you, but hate how silent you can be.

Hannibal x Reader

...who refuses to eat after finding out what animal the meat they're being served actually comes from.

CW: Force-feeding, captivity, slight (unintentional, can be seen platonically) Hannigram pairing

You haven't always been aware of it, but it eventually grew to be extremely obvious—Incredibly, eating had become a rather gruesome task. Just gazing at the food made your stomach churn and following each bite was a dreadful feeling of repulsion. The once innocent and innate act of eating exempt you from being a victim. Reversely, it made YOU the culprit, to a considerable extent.

—

You knew it.

Each swallowed mouthful was a new lump in your throat.

Hannibal Lecter was a rather cunning murderer; You were his, and apparently Will's, hapless little victim.

—

You couldn't quite comprehend the truth. To be fair, it was indigestible, both literally and metaphorically. Being held captive was one thing, but human flesh and organs existing to be the sole source of your intricate meals was just... bewildering.

"Y/N." Hannibal spoke, in his usual monotone tone of voice. He glanced at your almost untouched plate of food before averting his gaze back at you, in a slightly demanding manner.

"I cannot help but make note of your forbearance." He remarked, putting his carefully crafted metal fork down and intertwining his slender fingers together.

Truly, his statements were nothing more than politely-worded and conscientiously constructed commands. You knew him well enough to be able to recognise them with ease.

"I'm sorry." A mere apology was all you could utter before tentatively picking up your cutlery and eating.

—

Ever since that night, Hannibal has seemingly noticed the changes in your eating patterns. How you ate less and less, eyeing him guiltily, hoping he wouldn't say anything regarding the matter. Thankfully, you were rather... Obedient.

He couldn't, however, help but wonder what exactly gave rise to this peculiar behaviour. At first, he attributed it to unwellness. As displeased as it made him, he understood that being held captive can have quite the toll on one's mental well-being. Be that as it may, your otherwise passive and compliant attitude disproved his theory.

Perhaps it was your way of rebelling, almost slightly adorable. Almost.

Eventually, he figured it out—How absent-minded you were, under the ridiculous belief that he was unaware of the unquantifiable guilt that washed through you with each bite. Of course, he couldn't allow this unacceptable habit of yours to continue.

—

Friday, evening

Given the day, the manhunter invited Will over for dinner. Naturally, you were to be present at the table.

You barely touched the meat contents of your intricately cooked lunch. When inquired, you excused yourself with a rather simple and straightforward lie.

"I'm not in the mood for meat."

In that moment, you could swear Hannibal's lips curved upward to a knowing smile. Before you could even take a mental photograph, he adopted his characteristic stoic expression.

Something was off.

He was looking at you the way a hedonist seeks sensation.

The way a dog waits for a piece of meat.

The way a spider methodically and patiently ceases for the perfect moment to ambush its helpless prey.

Will was already sat at the dinner table when you came down from the attic. His eyes were full of disdain. Pity; Warning you of whatever was to come.

The two men were conversing, but you could barely make out what they were saying, due to their continuous use of indiscernible metaphors, as if they were codifying the contents of their dialogue.

The main dish; "Braised Roast" meat baked in clay with marrow, and lady apples on the side.

You inhaled deeply, grasping your shiny fork so hard your knuckles adopted a snow-white shade.

"What are we waiting for?" Hannibal smiled, his deep brown eyes initially landing on Will before eventually finding their way to you, where they lingered for a bit longer than they should've.

You felt an uncanny pressure watching both of them clear their plates. Each moment he stopped to chew he meticulously used to eye you.

"It's unfortunate you're not eating." The psychiatrist exclaimed, obviously referring to you and how your food remained unconsumed. You awkwardly chuckled - Approximately a billion excuses ought to travel to your lips, yet each and every single one got stuck in your throat.

"You know I cannot condone this behaviour any longer; It truly pains me to see you abstain from eating everything I cook." He berated you with plastered concerns. Will simply nodded, only looking at you from the corner of his eyes. Hannibal was now ogling at you and impatiently waiting. It was made clear that you expected to finish everything on your plate.

Yet you didn't. You just gawked at the contents in front of you intently, trembling.

"That's no good. I was hoping not to get my hands dirty tonight." Hannibal sighed as he got up from his seat. Your grasp on your chair only tightened, your brows knit together with uncertainty and untainted fear as he approached you.

His large hands abruptly grabbed both of your wrists before aggressively pinning them down on the wooden armrests of the chair you were sat on. You winced in pain for no longer than a second, at which he he unlocked his jaw to speak once more.

"Do not struggle. There is no need to make things harder than they already have presented themselves to be." He calmly requested as he applied more pressure before eyeballing Will, who consequently got up from his seat and placed his own colder hands right where Hannibal's previously were, just long enough for Hannibal to skillfully tie rope around all your limbs.

With both his hands now free, he could now do as he pleased. His left hand violently held your chin up, his perfectly round fingernail digging in your soft cheeks deep enough to leave a temporary mark, while his right picked up your fork.

He stabbed it in the meat, before bringing it centimeters away from your lips.

"Open up." He ordered. You stubbornly kept your mouth shut.

"...or don't." He painfully opened your teeth, forcing the food down your throat before making you chew and swallow. A horrifying sensation washed over you as you felt the food travel down to your previously empty stomach.

"There. It's not that bad, is it?" He smiled as he dug in the plate. Your eyes began to well up as he continued to force-feed you what was once a human-being.

About halfway through, you felt everything climbing back up your esophagus - However, gagging was seemingly not permitted. If anything, it encouraged him to continue.

And just when you thought it was coming to an end, when there was not a single crumb left, he excused himself only to bring back another plate just as full of tender meat.

Your stomach was very obnoxiously full by that point, and Hannibal was well accustomed to that. You were being reprimanded, after all. Punishments shall not lack the aspect of pain, or else they're not effective. All you could do was pathetically plead for him to stop between each excruciating mouthful that was forced down your throat, which he appeared to find rather irritable.

He left just enough space in between each bit to allow you to pitifully gasp for oxygen. You were long out of tears, but the pleading look in your eyes was more than enough to satiate Hannibal.

Your stomach grew to be rock-hard and bloated, as it excruciatingly pressed against your pants, the buttons of which were barely holding up against your full gut. Once you were finally done, Hannibal gently dragged his thumb against it, gingerly enough to soothe you yet firm enough to cause you pain. He unbuttoned the top button of your pants, giving you a very short-lived feeling of serenity.

"I forbid you from going to bed hungry ever again. Understood?" He instructed, untying the ropes that constrained you before placing a tender kiss on the top of your head.