You sipped on your coffee, cherishing the warm sun on your head and arms. You closed your eyes leaning back, earbuds shifting as the cord pulled to make length.
The air smelled fresh and like rain, and considering the small puddles still on the sidewalks and roads, it made sense.
You scrolled on Twitter, eyes scanning the hashtags trending. Your eyes locked on a few that interested you, mostly things relating to the Internet personalities that you enjoyed watching.
Your eyes stopped dead as you landed on a pretty high up tag, #Hannigram. You quickly click on the tag, eyes scanning the tweets.
I fully believe that they were framed, and decided to run because of it. Will and Hannibal are good people!
Tbh, murders kinda hot 🥵
Idfc if they killed someone or not, I'm still shipping them.
You cover your mouth to stop from laughing at the lewd and odd comments all down the tag, and take another sip of your coffee.
You click out and go to messages, eyes scanning for (y/b/f) before realizing that there was no contact. Your glee fades quickly, replacing itself with sadness.
You sigh as you walk onto the sidewalk from the small outdoor patio you were sitting in. You begin your walk to the house, watching the people and cars pass.
The rain began to mist down slowly, making some pull out raincoats and umbrellas. You huff and continue on, arms crossed tightly against your chest. You feel a shiver run down your spine as the patter of rain increases.
You begin to hurry your steps, doing everything not to sprint down the walk.
You breath a sigh of relief as you see the door to your apartment, and rush through the gate.
You pull out your keys, fumbling them as you try and put it into the lock.
Flinging the door open, you rush in, slamming the door shut. Will rushed out of the kitchen, eyes locking on you, scanning your now soaked figure.
"Did you jump into the fountain in the square," Will asked, his demeanor changing from worry to smugness.
"I'm tired, fuck off. You know it's raining."
He laughed, framing your face with his hands. "Sweetheart, I'm playing with you. Why are you so upset?"
You slump, throwing your coat off as Will kissed your forehead.
"Go change, you're going to get a cold."
You huff, curling into yourself as you stomp upstairs. You close the door to your shared room, turning to change when you see Hannibal propped up on the bed.
"You look like something tried to kill you, but it was mostly consisting of water," he said, smirking at you.
You roll your eyes, too exasperated to retort. You go to the closet, stripping down without a second thought of the man behind you.
You slip on a pair of Will's boxers and his shirt, hugging the fabric. You pad out, rushing to the bed to grab a blanket to warm your freezing self.
Hannibal doesn't say a word as he puts down his book, sitting up before wrapping his arms around your shivering figure. You lean into his warmth, scooting onto the bed as you lay back on him.
"What were you reading?" you ask softly, picking up the book that lay discarded on the bed. The pages were worn, and the binding was cracked, making you all the more interested in the contents of the book. Hannibal laughs at your curiosity, soft pulling the book from your hand.
"It's a book I loved as a teenager, that I would constantly read. I decided I would try it again, see what I thought of it now." You look up at him, top of your head resting on his chest.
"I'm tired, read to me." He chuckles, but opens the book before flipping from his bookmark to the front.
You barely register his words as you feel a sense of calm wash over you. You close your eyes, drifting off to the world your mind created in sleep, a world with no running or history, where you were with them but still with everyone else that you loved.
***
Hannibal spoke softly, flipping the page in the book. He looked down, realizing how your breathing had slowed, and smiled as he saw you asleep on his chest.
He flipped the book back to his page, but still read aloud, the memories of the book making him chuckle. The door creaked open, and Hannibal looked up, tensing slightly as he subconsciously reached for the gun in the drawer by the bed.
"I finish-" Will's sentence cut off as he saw your sleeping figure, and he stilled. "I finished baking the apple turnovers, if you want to come try them," he said, softer now.
"I'm a little tied up right now," Hannibal said, gesturing down at you, curled up.
"Oh well, I guess I'll join the party." Will softly padded to the bed, crawling onto it before resting his head on Hannibal's shoulder. Hannibal smiled, laying his head on Will's before bringing the book back up.
"Look at us, a normal polyamorous, gay, cannibal family," Will said, laughing.
Hannibal rolled his eyes, before continuing to read.
***
Okay, okay. So maybe I disapeared for like a month- and didn't upload-
BUT IM BACK! anyway, ya'll seriously need to tell me where ya'll want this story to go, cause im lowkey lost. And if you want smut. ANYWAY
BYE!
YOU ARE READING
The Ripper's Love
Fanfiction(Y/N) is a profiler, recently contracted to help the FBI find the infamous Chesapeake Ripper and his accomplice. Working side by side by Hannibal Lector and Will Graham, she begins to notice how dissimilar they truly are to the people they appear to...
