britnychole
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Alana would have insisted on helping, Will thought as he reached back for his wine. If she were here instead of him, she would have settled herself at Hannibal’s side, pink lips quirked in a coy smile. They would have traded insights and flirtations as their hands made light work of the dishes—both acquiescing to conventions of decorum. Settling easily into their roles, like snow forming to the shape of what lay beneath.
But Alana was not here, and Will was not interested in meeting Hannibal’s expectations.
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In the aftermath of a destabilizing dinner at Hannibal's, Alana leaves.
Will stays.
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Bookmarked by britnychole
29 May 2026
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Hannibal was enticing, like a garden light to a moth, his warmth and shine so welcoming, so deadly. Except the moth doesn’t know its fate, Will does. And he chose it anyway, where else would he go?
or
The inevitable culmination of flirting, the murky waters between hatred and desire and a late night of drinking enough wine by Hannibal's office fireplace.
Bookmarked by britnychole
29 May 2026
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'Afterwards, he’ll think of it kind of as if he were watching a movie, except he’s not really watching the movie because his mind is there but not all the way there. His own performance is perfunctory at best, because he drinks his wine and sits and watches and that’s about the extent of his role – there’s little moments where he thinks he sees something in Alan’s eye that could possibly lead to a question of giving Will a more substantial part in their performance, next time, but then, in the next moment, he is once more beyond captivated with Hannibal and anything, everything, he does.
Will knows in that moment that he’s lost whatever game it is he and Hannibal have been playing.'
S2 honey-trap era rewrite: Will is honey-trapping like the best damn honey there is, but Hannibal seems to be interested in more than just one kind of honey. Or perhaps Will's mind had been made up, long before any sort of phone-call can take place, and he just needs a little incentive to be true to his desires, except instead of fixing anything, he ends up hurting himself in the process.
Lucky for him, Hannibal Lecter is all too willing to fix it for him.
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Bookmarked by britnychole
23 May 2026
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“I’m interested,” Will said, turning so that they were once again face to face. His enunciation was precise. “In what, specifically, you were doing. I want you to tell me why.”
“I…have a particular…sexual fixation…truth be told an entire obsession about your scent, Will. Even now, as I wait for your final judgment on the matter with bated breath, the warm nearness of your body and the smell of you is incredibly bewitching. Dizzying.”
Will comes home one day and discovers Hannibal there, kneeling by the laundry basket with his face buried in Will's underwear. Naturally, Will demands an explanation, and just as inevitably, Hannibal's wild obsession over his body and scent prove too much to resist.
Bookmarked by britnychole
28 Apr 2026
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“Hannibal Lecter,” he finally says and extends his hand, he prays the man shakes it.
He eyes it suspiciously for a second, like he didn’t expect the gesture, but grasps it firmly. His hand is warm and rough, littered with tiny cuts and white scars.
“Will Graham,” he introduces himself. “Wow, your hand is cold.” Hannibal didn’t notice. “Sorry, that was rude, uh, are you lost though? Are you alright?” Will asks again, he is yet to let go off Hannibal’s hand and Hannibal sure as fuck is not going to let go first.
Bookmarked by britnychole
27 Apr 2026