Angel's Sojourn: Hannibal x Reader x Will

Chapter 16. Koshari

It was only after, when you were sitting ashamedly in the back of the cab speeding home, that Beverly had actually admonished your behavior. She mainly took issue with the 'face sucking' aspect of the night, exclaiming scornfully that you getting laid had not been in the plan. Dancing like a whore? Sure. Drinking to excess? Why not. But leaving with anyone other than those you arrived with? Absolutely not.

"We look out for each other." She clarifies as you pout beside her, still too drunk to realize she probably just pushed you out of the path of a speeding bullet train.

"Don't look at me like that, you could barely stand up when I pulled you away from that creep." She huffs and shoves a bottle of water into your lap. "Here, hydrate."

You sigh indignantly but uncap the bottle and drink just the same. It's lukewarm, but it does the trick to clear the slick from your mouth. 

"He's not a creep."

"Are you kidding me?" She looks at you in disbelief "Babe, that guy was trying to take you home, okay?"

You shrug, looking out the window to escape her accusatory glance. "So what? You're not my mother, Bev... and besides, this is what you wanted." You slur over the words, practically chewing on them as Beverly scoffs.

"I wanted you to come out of your shell and meet people, you know? Network." She shakes her head and shares a look with Samara. "I did not  mean for you to get so drunk you'd practically start having sex with a fucking stranger in public."

She had continued on that way for a while, but you were too out of it to completely register anything other than her displeasure. You'd left your mind in the underworld, among the fated gods and goddesses, fabled Trojans and Spartans. Your sober eyes had seen them for what they were, but looking back under the influence, you saw dancing specters clothed in wind and sun, in shadow and starlight. You remembered, not solid structures, but glassy corporeal forms that disappeared and reappeared with the light. Bipedal beings, not quite human, but not unfamiliar enough to be anything else.

They had borne the face and sound of humanity well, you'd reflected drunkenly, but their vacant eyes had been hiding thoughts that were completely... other. Iggy, you still remembered with the same reverence and awe. His presence, untainted by the ethanol, remained favorable. However, you went to bed doubting the idea of ever seeing him again- and though his tongue had been down your throat only an hour before, you dreamt that night, not of your handsome stranger... but of Hannibal.

* * *

There is heat, and sweat. The smell of sex in the air and the sound of flesh sliding across flesh. A distant sensation of apprehension, preceded by lust and smothered by need.

These are His gifts to you. Alms for His precious love, meant to coax a lonely heart from its self proclaimed prison. He means to shift you, to reach inside and twist some great meaty handful of viscera into a more suitable position. He wishes to mold you. To transform you... from the inside out.

Through the sluggish, almost drunken dream-fog, you gain an awareness of long fingers tracing your curves, hot lips pressed to your neck. Beneath your own hands you feel stubbled flesh and silken strands of silvery hair. In your dream you grip each other feverishly, His hand cupping the side of your face as your lips work together in sync. You sigh into his mouth and moan his name unashamedly.

"Now dear, is that the way we address our healthcare professionals?"

You glimpse His familiar wicked grin and devilish chuckle that you reciprocate, accompanied by a sense of surprise that you can barely place. The inhibitions that dominate your waking moments no longer rule this ethereal realm of sleep. You whisper his title as your breath quickens, gaining intensity as He shifts attention to your breasts, sucking your nipples and dipping his fingers into the wetness between your thighs.