#alana bloom x reader

[ave09]

HI

have INSPO TO WRITE FINALLY!!

if anyone has any “x reader” requests they’d like to see for;

hannibal lector

will graham

margot verger (already have one written and can’t wait to post)

alana bloom

freddie lounds

please please please drop them to my ask box. bored outta my mind and wanna write cute or angsty stories about my babies

#hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #will graham #hugh dancy #mads mikkelsen #margot verger #freddie lounds #alana bloom #caroline dhavernas #hannibal x reader #will graham x reader #margot verger x reader #alana bloom x reader #freddie lounds x reader

[bi-bard]

First Kiss (Pt. 2) - Hannibal Preference (NBC's Hannibal)

Title: First Kiss

Characters: Alana Bloom, Margot Verger, Frederick Chilton, Beverly Katz, Abigail Hobbs, Bedelia Du Maurier

Word Count: 1,894 words

Warning(s): (Alana's) very subtle hint to sex, mentions of attack (and Hannibal), (Margot's) mentions of Mason Verger, (Abigail's) mentions of bad parenting, (Frederick's) none, (Beverly's) none, (Bedelia's) none

Author's Note: Here's a Hannibal preference for more than just the murder husbands. If there's a character that I missed that you want me to write about, then let me know and I'll see if there's enough to make a third part (I kinda just put my favorites here).

If you wanna read the part involving the murder husbands, click here!

--------------------------------

Alana Bloom:

It was the first time I had seen Alana since her run-in with Hannibal.

The hospital had been hesitant about letting in visitors, so when she called me to join her for drinks, I was ecstatic.

She had a cane now but there was something else that seemed different. There was a clear shift in her behavior.

She leaned on her cane with a drink in her free hand. I leaned against the wall, almost studying her.

"You're looking at me like I'm a wounded animal," she pointed out.

"I'm sorry," I said immediately, looking down at my drink.

"It's okay," she replied. "I just want you to see that I'm okay."

"I see that," I promised. "It's just... I'm just worried, Alana. It's my nature."

She nodded, "The worst part of all this is the wasted time."

"Alana, you didn't-"

"I should've left Hannibal's house with you that night," she cut me off. "Would've saved me from that relationship, the fight, the physical therapy I had to go through."

I had offered her a ride home from Hannibal's dinner party. She must've seen that as her turning point.

"I could've been happy," she added. "With you."

I took a deep breath at the thought, "We... We still could... be happy together, I mean."

"After everything that's happened?"

"As long as I'm with you, I don't really care," I shrugged.

I walked over to her slowly. I leaned in and kissed her slowly. My free hand cupped the side of her face as she kissed me back.

Standing there, kissing her in her living room, was the time I felt most alive.

I let out a breathless chuckle when we finally pulled away, "Wanna make up for that lost time?"

"I can think of nothing better," she replied as she placed the glass on the counter and leaned in to kiss me again.

Margot Verger:

I had been hired to work on the Verger estate years ago. I was mostly confined to the stables. Feeding, cleaning, helping Margot. It wasn't a terrible job on its own. Mason just made everything miserable.

I basically had to turn a blind eye to everything he did. I had no idea what the consequences would be if I didn't. I just knew that I hadn't seen the last person who confronted Mason about his behavior.

The longer I was there, the more I saw, the more it broke my heart.

I had been putting Margot's horse away when she walked in to meet me. I tried not to stare, but I can see the expression on her face as she tried to hide any of the pain.

"He shouldn't treat you like that," I said softly. She looked at me. "You two are siblings. He just... it's disgusting how he treats you."

She softly grinned, "Thank you."

I nodded and went back to my work.

"You always have been very kind to me," she added.

"I'm pretty sure it's part of my job," I replied.

"But it's so much more than that," she continued. "I've seen you almost every day for about a year. Maybe more. You've become... a comfort to me."

When I looked back at her, she was standing directly in front of me. I immediately felt nervous. She took another step forward, mere inches between our bodies.

"Seeing you every day has been very nice."

"I feel the same, Margot," I felt my face heating up.

She hesitantly took another step forward before leaning in slowly. She pressed her lips against mine briefly. I tried to kiss her back, but she pulled away before I could.

"I'll come back tonight," she muttered. "Meet me here?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "I promise. I'll be here."

She grinned before stepping back and going to leave. I let out a breath once I knew that I was on my own.

Holy shit.

Abigail Hobbs:

Abigail and I had become friends when she entered the Port Haven psychiatric facility. I had been the only person who didn't turn a cold shoulder to her. Because I didn't think she deserved it.

We spent most of our time together. The only exceptions were during group therapy, at night, or when one of us had visitors.

There was one time when I violated those exceptions.

My mother had come to visit. It didn't help me much. I was left in this messy headspace that I couldn't get out of. My mother was the reason I ended up here and all she did was remind me of all the ways I was messed up. How unfair it was that I ended up this way because it looked bad on her parenting.

My brain was fixed on seeing Abigail. I found my way to her room that night. She looked up from her book when the door opened.

"What are you doing," she asked as I carefully shut the door. She looked worried when she saw my face. "Oh my god."

"My- My mom showed up," I muttered, wiping my tears. "And I just... I couldn't..."

She waved me over. I went and sat next to her in the bed. She let me rest my head on her shoulder.

"I don't know why they let her in," I mumbled. "You would think seeing how much harm it's doing would make them stop her."

"I'm so sorry," she grabbed my hand.

"You're the best thing around me," I continued. "Doctors just tell me all my symptoms and throw diagnoses at me. My mom seems to hate me. You... You actually listen."

"You do the same for me," she said.

I moved my head so I could look at her. She grinned at me. I softly grinned back before leaning over and pecking her lips.

It was maybe a second before I leaned back to look at her again.

"Was that okay?"

She nodded, "Yeah... yeah, it was fine."

I grinned before leaning my head on her shoulder again. I was okay with everything around her as long it was her.

She made whatever could happen worth it.

Frederick Chilton:

I was working as a nurse in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

I had fully intended for it to be a temporary job. Just a job to take the time until I could move properly. Once moving past how the patients would yell things at you, it wasn't the worst job ever.

Maybe the biggest annoyance came in the form of Dr. Frederick Chilton. He wasn't absolutely awful. He was just cocky. And the moment he had a second alone with me, he made enough flirtatious remarks to fill multiple pages of a notebook.

I didn't mind that much. It was just more irritating than anything.

"Dr. Chilton," I knocked as I leaned into his office.

"(Y/n)," he greeted before leaning against the front of his desk. "Come on in. What can I help you with?"

"I just wanted to talk about something," I said quietly. He nodded. "Do you flirt with all of the nurses or is it just me?"

He scoffed, "Very blunt today, aren't we?"

"I have to be when it's becoming an obstacle during my work," I replied, crossing my arms over my chest.

"And if I told you that I didn't?"

"I wouldn't worry as much about you just being an H.R. nightmare."

He chuckled and shook his head before looking at me, "Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

"Would there be a few problems with a nurse going on a date with an administrator?"

"Gotta make H.R.'s life a nightmare somehow," Chilton shrugged.

I walked over slowly.

He stood up a little taller as I got closer. I leaned in a kissed him gently, cupping the side of his face. He tried to follow me as I leaned back. I bit back a chuckle.

"I'll see you after my shift," I said before walking away.

"Yeah... see you..."

Beverly Katz:

Asking Beverly out on a date was one of the most awkward moments of my life. But after she said yes, it felt like a weight rolled off my shoulders.

I thought I'd never have to deal with that pressure again.

And then the end of the date rolled around.

I had been fine during the date. I had followed the conversation pretty well; I hadn't embarrassed myself. It had all gone very well.

But when I dropped Beverly off at home, I felt all of those nerves coming back. I walked her to her door and said goodnight. I was about to walk away when she stopped me.

"(Y/n)," she called as I was walking away.

I stopped to turn to her.

"Come back here and kiss me," she chuckled.

"What," I asked in shock. She smirked at me. "Oh, okay."

I jogged back over to her and pressed my lips to hers. She let out a laugh against my lips as she cupped the sides of my face. My hands touched her sides as I smiled against her lips.

When she pulled away, we both just stood there for a second, smiling at each other.

"I-I'll see you tomorrow," I said after a moment before pecking her lips again. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

I offered one more awkward wave before leaving for the night.

Bedelia Du Maurier:

Bedelia and I were working together on a paper I was hoping to publish. She only saw one patient now, but she had years of experience that helped me gather previous research and make sense of the results I got.

It was all coming together. She had just been doing a final proofread before we started the next big step in the paper.

I walked into her house anxiously, "Bedelia?"

"In here," she replied.

Her office was simple. The two chairs in the middle of the room were truly the center of attention.

She was standing over by the window, flipping through pages. My paper.

"Hi," I said as I walked over. I stood across from her on the other side of the window. "How does it look?"

"I think it looks good," she nodded. "We're getting to the final changes, which is very good. We got here much quicker than I thought we would."

I grinned.

"I've made some notes on this copy, so I'd advise you take this back with you and look them over."

I took the pages from her hand, "I truly can't thank you enough for all that you've done for me."

"It's been my pleasure," she replied. "Your research has been very interesting."

I looked down at the paper, ignoring how nervous she made me.

"If everything goes well, this work will help you get a lot of respect. I'm happy to be-"

I quickly leaned up and pressed my lips to hers. I leaned back quickly. I didn't have to answer any questions later because there was a knock at the door.

"I'll let you know when I get a chance to go over the notes you left," I muttered before quickly walking out.

I brushed by whoever was on the other side of the door.

As I sat in my car, trying to calm my breathing, I facepalmed.

I don't know which made me feel more stupid, kissing her so awkwardly or that I ran away so fast.

--------------------------------

Masterlist (Includes links to All Writing Challenges)

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

#hannibal preference #hannibal x reader #hannibal imagine #hannibal fanfiction #fanfiction #imagine #x reader #preference #alana bloom x reader #alana bloom fanfiction #alana bloom imagine #margot verger x reader #margot verger fanfiction #margot verger imagine #abigail hobbs imagine #abigail hobbs fanfiction #abigail hobbs x reader #frederick chilton fanfiction #frederick chilton x reader #frederick chilton imagine #beverly katz imagine #beverly katz x reader #beverly katz fanfiction #bedelia du maurier imagine #bedelia du maurier fanfiction #bedelia du maurier x reader

[mo0nfairy]

𖥔 ࣪ ㅤ۪ 🪷 🪺 ⸺   𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦    !

♫ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 — 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞

˚ ✩ 🪱 ｡ ˚ ✧ * ｡ 🌂

𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

( 📦 ) . . .  𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗲𝘁.

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

( 📦 ) . . .  𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗲𝘁.

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

( 📦 ) . . .  𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗲𝘁.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬

( 📦 ) . . .  𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗲𝘁.

#alana bloom #hannibal #masterlist #yandere #yandere alana bloom #yandere hannibal #alana bloom imagine #hannibal imagine #alana bloom x reader #hannibal x reader

[the-avengers-ate-my-tongue]

Don't Blame Me (Smut)

Summary: if there's one thing that makes Hannibal Lecter lose control, is rudeness.

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x reader, past Alana Bloom x reader (mentioned)

Warnings: Smut!

English is not my first language, if you see any mistake, let me know! It came out a little different than the ask cause I just don't see Hannibal losing his shit like that hahahahah I hope you like it anyway, anon!

Word Count: 2277

It's common knowledge that one must never miss a Lecter soiree. 

Always one of the most expected events of the year, I was lucky and even grateful to be invited. I've known Hannibal since the years on Hopkins, he'd always been Alana's interesting acquaintance, one I never thought I'd catch the attention of. 

Turns out we have more interests in common than I originally thought. He's a skilled artist, so am I. We both enjoy opera, and love to play instruments, mine being mostly flute and oboe. I could still hear the angelic sound of the harpsichord being played half an hour earlier. Impressive how his fingers glided through the keys, how effortlessly he recorded complex tunes to entertain his guests.

"I missed the days that sparkle in your eyes were directed to me" Alana's jest ringed in my ears, making me jump a little. She chuckled. "Look at you all jumpy. Relax, Y/n. He didn't catch you staring."

"Shut up, Lana" I shoved her playfully, sipping the red wine. "Do not get me started on Will Graham and those puppy eyes. He's staring right now, you know. You should give the poor man a chance."

"Okay, I got it. I won't meddle in your affairs anymore."

"There is no affair." I wish there was, I thought to myself, taking another sip of the wine while I eyed Hannibal from afar, talking to an older woman dressed like a peacock. "I…"

"I noticed your glass is nearly empty, so I fetched you another one" a familiar voice came from behind me, and the glass was abruptly removed from my hand and replaced with a fuller one. I contained my desire to roll my eyes once I saw who the intruder was.

"Frederick. Were you also invited or just crashed the party to feast on good things for once?" I teased, narrowing my eyes while looking at the director of the general administrator for Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. 

"My dear Y/n, I wouldn't dream of it. Of course I was invited. Moreover, I would avoid all this meat if I were you. You never know the provenance, if you know what I mean." He lowered his voice, coming closer and almost whispering in my ear. I could not help to actually roll my eyes this time, turning to face him. "I am, after all, restrained to low protein meat, that is."

"You still believe that silly theory that Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper? Please, Chilton. I never deemed you to be clever, but this is plain stupidity." I allowed the alcohol to make me more straightforward, chuckling on my words.

"Sticks and stones, little Y/n. Sticks and stones." Chilton teased, stepping away and going to bother someone else with his presence.

"For god's sake, the man is a burden" I whispered to Alana, who cracked at the comment.

"He has always been like this, you know that. I don't fathom why you always allow him to get under your skin."

"I've known Frederick for longer than you, Lana. Believe me, if you give that man a hand, he will most certainly grab your arm, shoulder and everything else you have to offer. Now, if you excuse me, I shall mingle a little bit more before the dinner actually begins. His interaction gave me a sour taste on my tongue."

I clicked my glass to Alana's, walking around the room and chatting to some people. Uninteresting conversations filled my ears and fake smiles made my lips start to tire out, but as soon as Hannibal's chocolate eyes were on me, I felt my entire demeanour change. 

An idea occurred to me as I walked straight to the balcony, hoping he would join me. The night breeze engulfed me and I realized how trapped I was feeling inside that house, with those judgy stares and meaningless conversations. My wine glass remained untouched as I placed it on the strong wood porch, contemplating the cloudless sky.

"Tired of the good old socialization already?" I grunted when I realized that was not the voice I longed to hear, turning back to face Frederick.

"Careful, Chilton. One might say you are stalking me. As far as I remember, that's still a crime." I crossed my arms to show how much I unappreciated his presence, stepping away until my back was against the balcony.

"Come now, what have I done to deserve so much animosity? We used to be colleagues, friends if I dare to be so bold."

"An old dog with difficulty dropping the dry bone he was once given. Are you really that starved, Frederick? That's pitiful." I was aware of how indelicate I was getting, but he was starting to bother me immensely. "If there's one thing you are not, it's bold. Arrogant and extremely annoying, yes. Can't stand to hear a loud no? That checks, too. One must always let go of the past if we wish to evolve. God knows I have."

He dismissed everything I said with a slight wave of his hand, getting closer. I could smell the faint scent of whiskey, imagining that, after the loss of some of his organs, he probably would get drunk much easier. He tried to reach me with his free hand, but awkwardly dropped my glass, causing it to crash a few meters down. 

We were alone and a little far from the other guests. The balcony's door was closed shut. I felt my hands start to tremble a bit, and realized I had to get out of there before things could get out of hand.

"Seriously, Frederick?" I snarled, rolling my eyes. "Playtime is over. Let me through, I'm getting out of here."

"Y/n, I…" he held my wrist with considerable strength, making me gasp. I tried to pull away but he was strong, and before I could snap and finally throw the punch he deserved, a low, deep voice echoed.

"I believe you heard the lady clearly, Dr. Chilton." There was a different gleam in Hannibal's eyes, and I wasn't the only one to notice. Frederick turned paler, letting go of my wrist with haste. "I think you should go. You've had too much wine, I see."

He hesitated, but agreed with a nod, leaving the balcony without looking back. Hannibal stared at him through his shoulder darkly and I released the breath I was holding, my knees would have given out if Hannibal had not held me discreetly, supporting my weight with an arm around my waist.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" He inquired, one hand lifting my face so I could look at him. I was so embarrassed. "Do you need a place to rest?"

"Not at all, Hannibal. Do not worry about me, it was just a fright and the wine. I cannot steal the host of his guests."

"Nonsense. Come, I will take you to the guest bedroom. We can enter through the kitchen, so no one will see your state. Please" he pointed to the other door, showing that there was no space to argue, and I just surrendered, allowing him to guide me through the vast kitchen filled with employees working to the elegant guest bedroom, shutting the door behind us. 

I sat on the comfortable mattress, appreciating the shades of cream and white, and the beautiful vintage-like furniture that seemed to complement the place perfectly. I realized then that Hannibal had fallen silent, and I stared at him with worry. He had turned his back to me, leaning on the dresser, breathing a little heavier.

"Hannibal?" I called, getting up and walking towards him, reaching out with my hand on his shoulder. His face was impassive, but he had that same look in his eyes again, something ancient and darker that wides his pupils and pierces his lips tightly.  I allow myself to reach deeper, caressing his strong arm and feeling the muscles tense under his suit. "What is it?"

"He dared to touch you like that" he pointed in a cold tone. "Like you are someone else's property."

My eyes softened as I felt some butterflies in my stomach, and I took the liberty to grab his chin, kissing his cheek tenderly in appreciation.

"Forget about Frederick, he is immature and arrogant. I will call him tomorrow to address this matter."

He still had that predatorial look in his eyes that gave me shivers, though not the way it should. Something in being that much protected by him made me feel dear and precious like an exotic pearl. 

He would not give in, and I felt bold enough to once more kiss his handsome face, this time on his jawline, near his left ear. That caught his attention, and he towered over me, cradling my face with his enormous hands, making my eyes tremble with the feeling of electricity that flowed through my veins. With no hesitation, his lips crashed against mine, and I moaned into his mouth, the hunger for him making my loins combust. 

"I have wanted this for so long…" I murmured against his neck, his fancy perfume invading my nostrils. He smelled so good. 

"As did I, Y/n. You have been in my thoughts a great deal lately" he confessed, making me blush. Impostor syndrome trying to kick in, I avoid the self-degrading thoughts as I delight in his open mouthed kisses in my skin, gasping in pleasure when he lightly bites my shoulder, enjoying it more than I ever thought I would.

"Your guests…" I tried to be reasonable, a dirty smile playing on my lips.

"The dinner will take a little while longer, I'm afraid" he whispered in my ear, nibbling on the lobe with a mischievous deep chuckle. He lifted my dress to my waist, since we didn't really have that much time to spare, and I got rid of my panties, almost tripping on them with my heels and the rush. 

His hand went to my core, testing how wet I was, and he smiled with how soaked I felt. A loud moan echoed through the room and he removed his hand at once, lifting one finger at me as he would chastise a child. I frowned with frustration, lifting my chin to face him.

"We are not supposed to be too loud, Y/n. You do not want the guests to hear us, do you? Imagine the scandal" that made me laugh with pure bliss, nodding in agreement. "Are you going to be a good girl?"

Oh, fuck. Is this really happening?

"Yes. Yes, I will" I agreed in haste, and he effortlessly lifted me up, sitting me on the dresser and starting to unzip his pants. I tried to control my breathing and anticipation, pleasuring myself with the vision of his hard cock, precum glistening at the tip. He massaged it with his hand for a few seconds before he towered over me, holding my hips in place while he entered me so painfully slowly I nearly sobbed.

To avoid the loud moans, I bit my left fist, suppressing the sounds as my insides clenched to accommodate him. A joyful smile illustrated his lips, his hair falling over his eyes due to the sweat, and he looked like a Greek statue. I could not avoid the mesmerized stare, melting in admiration, as he leaned to cover my lips with his own one more time, his tongue exploring my mouth like he was famished. Still slowly, he started to move his hips, almost both torturing and indulging me at the same time. I entangled my legs around him, pulling him closer to the point one could swear we were one. He moaned my name, followed by an almost savage growl that sent vibrations through my entire body and, for a while, I regretted how little time we had. He seemed to sense that, rushing his movements until the dresser started to hit the wall and, for a moment, I was certain everyone outside could hear us. 

So much for discretion, I thought, grabbing his broad shoulders while he inserted himself deeper and deeper inside of me. His thumb began to stimulate my clit and, sensing I would begin to cry out at any moment, Hannibal silenced me with his lips, allowing me to moan against his mouth as I felt the tension start to build up in my lower abdomen.

I felt him pull out his cock, replacing it with his skilled fingers, finishing on my thighs. I followed him right after, covering my mouth until my moans were unsteady breaths. 

I hadn't even realized Hannibal had left until he came back from the suite with a hot towel, starting to clean me up. I thanked him with a sweet kiss, doing my best to fix his clothes and hair. We both knew it wouldn't do any good, but he enjoyed my caresses and how I took care of him as well. He took one of my hands — the one Chilton grabbed like a brute earlier — and kissed my wrist, right where small purple bruises began to form. 

"We should go back. Who is going to serve dinner? We're being unforgivably selfish" I taunted, chuckling lightly.

"Perhaps you should be my dinner, then" he jested, and I openly laughed, shoving him playfully.

"Later. If you'll have me, that is." I lifted my eyebrows with expectation, staring at his brown irises.

"It would be my pleasure, Y/n" with a last kiss, he went to the bathroom suite to fix his appearance, leaving me with a silly smile and a warm feeling in my chest.

#hannibal x reader #hannibal #hannibal x you #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x you #nbc hannibal #hannibal imagine #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter fanfiction #will graham #mads mikkelsen #hannibal headcanon #hannibal fanfic #hannibal lecter headcanon #Alana Bloom #Frederick Chilton

[richardpapenvarient]

Dating Will Graham + being best friends with Alana Bloom HCs (Can be read for any gender)

So many of the Will x reader fanfics I see paint Alana in such a bad light, which I think is stupid so I’m writing this

She absolutely realized you and Will had feelings for each other before either of you did

Teased you about it all the time

“You’re blushing!”

You, her, and Will talk shit together all the time

It’s literally that one meme

“Did you see his fucking haircut?” “Oh god,” “Shit,” “His parents don’t care about him,”

When Will was in jail she stayed with you

If you knew Hannibal framed Will, she’d listen to what you had to say but try to gently get you to reconsider

If you didn’t know, she’d remind you that Will loves you and it wasn’t really him that killed those people

You and Will going out for Coffee or food with her and her girlfriend

When Will first met you, he thought you and Alana were dating, obviously he quickly figured out you weren’t

You all still laugh about it

Jack is completely done with the three of you, especially you and Alana

You’re in some meeting, Alana is sitting next to you and the two of you are whispering and trying not to laugh

Will is watching and also trying not to laugh

Jack yells at you

The next meeting has assigned seats

Alana spills coffee on her shirt or something and takes one of yours out of your bag, not realizing you took it from Will

Will is quite confused when he sees her walking around in his shirt

Will trying to teach the two of you to fish

If you’re out in a canoe, it tips over at least once

You’re gender doesn’t matter, Alana is going to do your makeup whenever she gets a chance

She can probably convince Will to let her do his too

You keeping Will up at night because you’re on the phone with her

Powertriopowertriopowertrio

***

I can write an actual fic about this if anyone is interested

#will graham #will graham x reader #will graham x male reader #will graham x gender neutral reader #will graham x female reader #alana bloom #alana bloom x platonic reader #hannibal nbc

[g0dwat3r]

hurt/comfort nbc!will graham fic idea.

so I just got past that one episode where hannibal and alana kiss, then fuck, then kiss. y'all know what im talking about.

and had this idea.

basically the reader works with the fbi but mostly keeps to themself. upon will learning about hannibal and alana's affair (feeling totally heartbroken) (also keep in mind that i just got past that episode i have no idea if will does find out or if it was a one-time thing 🧍‍♂️) and somehow, someway, he hooks up with the reader because they're both going through shit.

eventually, it stops becoming hookups and more "hey, you come over to my house and instead of having aggressive sex, we just talk?" and they grow to know one another well, and eventually he asks the reader on a date, and the date is super sweet with all of wills dogs 🥺

#nbc hannibal #will graham #nbc will graham #will graham x reader #nbc will graham x reader #hannibal lecter #alana bloom #tags i guess #im running out of ideas for tags #touya stfu

[remediesremedy]

will graham falling in love with a “criminal”

-will graham is intrigued by your case, and a part of him feels unsettled about it, you shouldn’t be in prison. you hunted down bad people, it was exactly what he did, just without a flashy FBI card.

-you have a list of criminals, that the FBI wants or doesn’t even know exist, but due to your arrest you won’t comply and tell them. you weren’t doing anything wrong. until you were a free man, your lips were sealed.

-Will graham is given the task to make you talk, and talk you do, but not in the way the FBI wants. Will however is fascinated by your cunning eyes, how smug you are with yourself, that you alone are so valuable. he notices that you reserve a different part of yourself for him, you are slightly nicer, ever so slightly, but above anything, you are curious about Will Graham.

-the more you get to know him, is when you start dropping subtle clues to cold cases or ongoing ones, he doesn’t figure it out for a week or two, but from then on, he loves the game he’s playing with you. He listens intently, hanging off of every word you say, you love it.

-the day where you lean over to him and whisper, “you’re right about hannibal y’know, it must be so frustrating that no one believes you.” the breath that releases from your mouth coats Will’s ear, he shivers at the intimacy. and his heart beats fast because you also know, you’re just like him, you have seen hannibal.

-and he almost keens into the fact you believe him, he preens his feathers at the thought of being right, like he normally is. When Will gets the news of you being trialled for the death sentence, he is beyond puzzled. killing a criminal who may have vital information? it doesn’t sit right with him. begrudgingly, he starts involving himself with the court case, he isn’t the biggest fan of how much socialising it entails.

-and he loathes it when he makes a deal with the devil, hannibal himself. will shows up on his doorstep, almost seething with the fact he’s asking the one person he despises for help. “i need you to help me kill the jury.”

-and they do it so meticulously, they work together so well and they both observe this, but will sneers at hannibal lector each time he dares to shoot a smile at him. “so who’s the lucky person you’re doing this for?”

-“you know exactly who ass hat. the guy who was sentenced to the death penalty when he knows more information than the FBI.” will tuts as he strings up the jury, hannibal insisted on the theatrics. hannibal hums softly as he carves out the jury’s cerebral cortex, the place responsible for processing most information.

-“if i knew you were this passionate about it, i would’ve offered to break him out.” Hannibal says absentmindedly

-“and why would you do that Dr Lector?” Will’s eyes slit into a reptilian like glare, there is no good intention with his offer.

-“because you’d owe me, and besides, that criminal of yours is quite.. handsome.”

A/N (authors note): i would like to apologise for the lack of content recently, i have never been a very,,, motivated writer. so here we are, back with quite a concept. i do have an avatar fic in the works (the one about the blue hot aliens), so if you pressure me to do it then i will deliver. reminder that i do take requests and they can be done anonymously, go wild :)

#hannibal lector #hannibal #imagines #will graham #alana bloom #x reader #fluff #lgbtq #queer representation #hannigram #requests #send anons #anon request #atwow

[madisonwritesstuff]

hii its me again i hope im not irritating you i just love your writing😚😚😚 i just wanted a Hannibal x fem reader (yes im obsessed) where he has invited alana, will, jack and reader. When Hannibal says there is pig meat she just kind of just stares at the meat and then she says im not hungry but Hannibal notices something wrong (reader is secretly muslim. Completely normal appearance no hijab or things like that but she doesnt like to tell other people because she gets uncomfortable when others find out and if you are not comfortable writing this i can ask for something else because i have a lot) i luv u💕

★ ; pork. -------------------

Hannibal Lecter x Fem! Reader.

I'M NOT IRRITATED AT ALL, I'M SO HAPPY TO KNOW U ACTUALLY LIKING MY WRITING. I LUV U TOO <3333

Tags ; muslim! reader, Hannibal trying to subtly rizz u with his cooking skillz :3, no tw (I think), fancy smancy hannibal with his fancy smancy pork meals 🙄, will bein an empath and already guessing that hannibal is a simp..

You smiled to yourself as you looked into the little mirror which was in your compact powder, fixing up your makeup as you took a deep breath before closing the compact powder and sliding it into your purse.

You exit your car and walk up to Hannibal's front door, you can hear faint chatter coming from the other side. Looks like you're the last one hear. Just as your about to knock, the door opens. “Y/N, lovely to see you. You look great.” He smiled. “How did you-” Just as you were about to inquire, he stopped you mid sentence. “I recognized the perfume you wore. Do come inside, must be cold out there.” He smiled and stepped aside to let you in.

You were a little surprised but recalled Will having told you about Hannibal's sense of smell, so you smiled back at him and entered the house.

Following Hannibal, he led you to the dinner room. Where you could see Alana, Jack, and Will already seated. “Y/N! You made it!” Alana spoke up, standing up to give you a handshake with a sweet smile.

After you had thoroughly shaked hands with everyone, you sat down and began conversing while Hannibal was in the kitchen preparing the dinner.

You had offered to help but he said it was alright and that you could sit down with the others.

By the time the food arrived you were famished, literally your mouth watered just at the scent of the cooked meat. “Balsamic braised pork tenderloins, with fresh figs.” Hannibal introduced, setting a plate down infront of each guest. “What type of pork is this?” Jack inquired while picking up his knife and fork. “Iberico pork, comes from the famous Iberian black pigs.” He spoke, smiling to himself proudly at the representation of the food. You felt your stomach drop at the realization that you can't even eat the delicious looking food.

“Of course, Dr. Hannibal Lecter with his expensive meals. If I hadn't known any better I'd think you're trying to impress someone.” Will spoke up sarcastically. Everyone around the table let out 'Oooh's in regards to Wills theory.

“Who knows?” He jested, everyone laughed at his half assed response. He smiled to himself before sittting down at the table and watched as everyone began to take a bite and said their compliments to Hannibal. Everyone except you.

You looked like you were lost, staring down at the meat with furrowed brows. “Y/N?” Hannibal called out quietly, loud enough for you to hear. “Huh? Oh, sorry. I was- Um, yeah what did you need?” You smiled to him sheepishly, he could tell you were nervous.

“Why aren't you eating? Is it not to your liking? Don't tell me you're a vegetarian.” He laughed a little, genuinely curious as to whether you know his secret or you're genuinely just not interested in the food.

“I um, I'm not hungry.” You spoke, your stomach deciding to rumble at exactly that time. The color from your face drained in horror as you stared him dead in the face as your stomach grumbled. His expression was blank, before a small smile crept to his face. “Now that we know that's not the case, what's the real reason you are uninterested in the meal?” He spoke, he was definitely not going to let you go home on an empty stomach.

You looked around and everyone was engrossed in eating and or sharing a few jokes that they hadn't noticed you and Hannibal's own conversation that was oddly secretive.

“I um.” You spoke up. “Go on, it's not like I'll kill you for it.” He joked, laughing a little at his own joke. “Yeah well, I don't.. Eat pork..” You said awkwardly as you looked at your lap in embarrassment. Making a whole fuss on not eating just because you don't eat pork. You wanted to go home and just eat instant noodles and read fanfics. (I see u.)

“You don't eat pork? Why didn't you say anything before? Are you allergic? I am so sorry I should've asked. I'll make a new dish for you, please wait.” He was about to stand up but you grabbed his hand and shook your head. “No no! It's alright, I'm actually uh, Muslim, you know? I can't really eat pork. But it's fine! I'm fine! I'm not that hungry anyway.” You spoke with an awkward smile. “Nonsense, wait for everybody to leave and then I'll cook up a meal to your liking.” He smiled and put his hand over your hand for reassurance. Which made butterflies go wild in your stomach before you nodded and smiled, relaxing back down and waiting for everyone to finish their own meals.

By the time everyone left, you were already in the kitchen, looking over all the ingredients in his fridge. “Liver, kidney, eeeww..” You stuck your tongue out in emphasis on the through of eating animal organs. You closed the fridge and turned around and let out a shriek as Hannibal was towering over you. “Apologies, didn't mean to startle you.” He spoke, his gaze intimidating. “Oh it's alright!- I was just looking over the ingredients you have. We could make a beef stew or something.” You smiled, trying to be helpful with ideas.

“Hmm, we could.” He spoke as you stepped aside and he opened up the freezer. Hannibal looked over at the labeled organs before his gaze went to the meat that was plastic wrapped. He took it out and placed it on the counter. “How about spaghetti and meatballs? No pork, just beef.” He smiled. “Oh sure! I haven't had spaghetti in a while. I'd love to taste your own recipe.” You smiled.

“Well then we best get making. I make my own spaghetti.” You raised your eyebrow. “That much effort for spaghetti and meatballs?” You spoke, crossing your arms. “That much effort for you my darling.” He spoke as he turned his back to you and began taking out the necessary bowls. While you stared at him and recalled what Will said. Was he really trying to impress you? You felt your face heat up but quickly shook your head and took a deep breath to calm down.

He put the bowls on the countertop and motioned for you to stand next to him. You smiled to yourself a little as you began to walk over to him, helping him with preparing the meal.

all rights reserved to © madisonwritesstuff , please do not copy, repost on other platforms, translate, or modify my works without my permission.

#hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter x fem reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal #muslim reader #alana bloom #will graham #jack crawford

[rottngdeer]

Bloodsuckers — 3

Pairings || Hannibal Lecter x Vampire!Female!Reader

Part 3/?

Contents/Warnings || Graphic depictions of death, cannibalism, Hannibal being Hannibal, blood consumption/feeding, light smut at the end

Authors Note || going to start incorporating Will a bit more— might have some plans with him. and sorry for the delayed chapter !! been busy because of winter break :) happy holidays everyone !

“Why them?” You asked as you wiped blood off of your mouth. Hannibal looked down at you on the ground, knelt over a young man you had just drained. Hannibal was wearing a full plastic suit over one of his normal suits, which had small splatters of blood in it from you smashing the young man’s head on the table a few times before you had your fill.

“He was rude to me,” Hannibal’s nonchalant answer was followed up by talk about what organs to remove and what he wanted to cook with them.

The reply was simply yet empty, leaving you with even more questions. You knew not to ask. You also knew that when he started to talk about how to remove organs and how to cook them, it was more for him to talk and you to listen, not for you to follow. He hadn’t let you touch or cook any organs, but he found joy in feeding them to you, despite your protests and reminders that you didn’t need actual food. He would just insist until you relented. You knew that you could just wait this out— Hannibal would die and you would move to a different place before that happened. You just needed the blackmail to stop first.

—

Your birthday finally came. It meant nothing to you but everything to Will and Hannibal. Hannibal insisted on throwing you a dinner party, which you objected to, but he said he would allow you to invite only who you wanted, and he would keep human meat out of it all. You accepted.

Every time you looked at Hannibal, you wondered how such an intelligent man could commit such sadistic crimes. You also wondered how he hadn’t been caught yet. Hell, his name rhymed with cannibal. Thankfully, you knew that Will was suspicious of Hannibal. Despite his instability, you knew it didn’t cloud Wills judgment. You hoped that Will and Hannibal being together around you wouldn’t cause any issues, and that you wouldn’t think about your recent kill with Hannibal too much.

You arrived at your party, being greeted by a kiss on the hand from Hannibal and then a hug from Alana. Alana led you to the dining room, where there was a long table of foods and drinks, along with a separate table filled with gifts, predominantly from Hannibal and Will. Will was sitting anxiously at the table with Bedelia and Jack when he saw you come in. He shot up from his seat and went to you, hugging you and whispering something into your ear that made you giggle. Everyone saw that and thought it was cute, but only Bedelia saw the look in Hannibal's eyes as he stared at you and Will.

You all had a nice dinner of good food (you assumed), laughter, and a genuinely good atmosphere. Hannibal had pre poured you a glass of watered down blood before the other guests arrived, and had drizzled some over your meal, which he also prepared separately. When you noticed these things, you had reached your hand under the table and gave Hannibal's knee a small squeeze since he was seated beside you. When he looked at you, you gave him a small thankful smile. While it was a genuine gesture for you, it made something swirl deep inside of him. Of course when gifts came around, Bedelia, Jack, and Alana had given you small meaningful gifts, but Will and Hannibal were at war with each other, giving you more gifts than you admittedly wanted, but appreciated nevertheless. At the end, Alana managed to distract Will from his anger over the gifts, while Hannibal pulled you away into an upstairs room.

“I have one last gift for you,” He told you once you were both in the room with the door shut. He shrugged off his blazer and rolled up one of his sleeves. You looked at him, confused.

“I’ve found out the statistics of my blood type, it’s AB negative, only making up 1% of the population. I assume you don’t get this much considering he statistics. This is my final gift to you“ He held out his arm to you.

You gently took hold of his arm, “You're sure about this?“ When he gave you a nod, and you hesitantly leaned down. You sunk your teeth into his arms, your fangs piercing through and beginning to extract blood at a steady pace. God, it was good. You can’t remember the last time you had even tasted it. You only did this for a minute or less, not wanting to take too much and make Hannibal pass out. “Thank you,“ you panted when you pulled away, feeling almost intoxicated. Hannibal could tell, and that’s exactly what he wanted.

He rolled his sleeve back up and put his blazer back on, smoothing it out, “I will allow you to do this a few times a month, as long as our arrangement continues.”

“You’re a strange man, Hannibal. I’m not doing much of anything for you in return. You’re perfectly capable of killing.”

“There is one other thing you can do in return.”

“What?”

Hannibal stepped close to you, grabbing your chin with one hand and leaning his head down, kissing you. You were a bit taken aback but returned the kiss after a few seconds. A heavy make out session ensued with Hannibal’s hands grabbing at your waist and your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as your tongues battled for dominance. Hannibal was the first to move away, breaking the kiss and letting go of you.

“What’s wrong?” Your hands slid down his shoulders and to his forearms.

“We can’t leave the guests waiting for too long, can we?”

“You tease.”

“After you,” Was all he said, motioning to the door. You left the room, straightening yourself out and walking back downstairs to the small party. Despite being around these other people, your mind was racing with Hannibal.

#hannibal #mads mikkelsen #hannibal x y/n #hannibal x you #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #will graham #hugh dancy #will graham fanfic #will graham x reader #jack crawford #alana bloom #nbc hannibal

[ave09]

Please write for will. I AM DESPERATE

BET! i just wrote something cute and fluffy but if you have any specific scenario (specifically angst bc im in. a mood) send ‘em to my box!

real

will graham x reader

(based on szn 1 bbg will)

one word to describe the day: draining. jack was on your ass the entire day, hounding you about the chesapeake ripper, and it just wouldn’t let up. 

all you wanted was a night of peace, just you, a book, and some wine. and yet, as the peace was finally being restored and you felt calm… there was a knock at the door. 

“great,” you mumbled, rising from your comfy seat on the couch, crossing the room towards the front hall. who would be here at this hour? you unlocked the door, pulling it open slightly, seeing will graham standing there, fidgeting nervously, a bottle of wine in hand. 

you furrowed your brows, “will?” pulling open the door all the way, “what are you doing here?” 

the man cleared his throat, averting eye contact, “well-you-you seemed on edge. with the ripper, jack and everything, and i thought maybe you could use some wine-and company-“ 

you heart warmed at the gesture. the two of you had been spending a lot of time together, working on this case, and doing so, were also getting to know one another better. and she loved it. 

a small smile tugged at your lips as he let out a nervous chuckle, “but now that i’m here, i’m thinking you’d probably want to be alone-so i’m just gonna leave this here and-“

she shook her head slightly. sure. maybe he was right. but if there was anyone she’d want to spend her evening with, it would be will graham. 

“please, you’ve come all this way, come in,” you gestured for him to enter, and he did, “thanks,” he mumbled as he stepped inside, taking charge and closing the door behind him rather then waiting on you to do it yourself. 

will glanced around, taking in your home. he’d only been here once before, and that was when he had offered to help you home after a particularly rough patch in this chesapeake ripper case. 

it was a long day, the scene was beyond disturbing, leaving you frazzled. will had taken it upon himself to drive you home and help you out. you most definitely appreciated the gesture. and in all honesty, that’s probably where your attraction for the man started. 

he was always so sweet. intelligent too. not to mention handsome. 

“here, i’ll take that,” you said, gently taking the wine from his hands, cradling it carefully before gesturing to the living area. 

the two of you walked towards it, you settled into your comfy spot once again, will took a seat in the loveseat across from you. 

you set the new wine bottle on the coffee table beside the open one, sighing softly as you glanced up at him, “so..” small talk did not come easier for either of you. 

“how’ve you been? with this whole shitshow?” you ask. he simply shrugs. “it’s rough. he’s too smart.” 

“he knows precisely what he’s doing and how to get away with it.” 

will nodded, glancing up at you for a moment before clearing his throat again, “ya think maybe we could leave work be for a second? and just… talk?”

you nodded, shifting slightly in your seat, “of course,” you then fell into silence, trying to find something to discuss.

“hey,” 

his voice was soft. fragile. 

he leaned forward slightly, fidgeting with his fingers, “hi,” you replied jokingly, your voice equally as soft.

“am i imagining things?” he asked suddenly, catching you off guard. “imagining what?” 

he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing slightly, “i-i don’t want to be too upfront, but… what’s this about?” he asks, gesturing between you and him. 

“us?”

he nodded. you tilted your head slightly, “what?”

“you don’t see it?” slowly, you sat up taller, somewhat catching on. “listen… i’m not one to do this.. not really.” he’s reluctant with his replies as he continues. 

“i… have feelings for you. and not-not the platonic kind.” 

your heart flutters, breath quickens. was this actually happening? was this real?

“you have.. romantic feelings for me?” you asked, to which he nodded. 

“and-i don’t know if i’m crazy-and this is just somewhat delusional but-“

“i do too.” 

he glanced up at you. “what?”

slowly, you stood, crossing the room towards the loveseat, will slowly rising as well. you now stood before him, a smile tugging on your lips, “i too have romantic feelings for you, will graham.” 

a small smile broke out across his lips, “you mean it?” 

“why would i lie?” 

slowly, he took a step forward, a very small gap between you now. you took the opportunity to lean in, gently brushing your lips against his, testing the waters.

his hand gently found your neck, gently pulling you closer, his lips melting against yours. this was only something that you’d dreamt about, and now it was happening. 

slowly, he pulled away, his eyes closed as he rested his forehead against yours. 

“real?” he asked softly, “this is real?”

“as real as ever.” 

and you leaned in and kissed him once more. 

#hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter #will graham #will graham x reader #hugh dancy #hugh dancy x reader #margot verger #alana bloom #jack crawford #nbc hannibal

[bi-bard]

Harry Styles Songs that Would Describe Relationships with the Murder Wives - Hannibal Preference (NBC's Hannibal)

Title: Harry Styles Songs that Would Describe Relationships with the Murder Wives

Characters: Alana Bloom, Margot Verger

Word Count: 2,755 words

Warning(s): (Alana's) my poor attempts of flirting, references to sex & Will's arrest, (Margot's) mentions of abuse (and Mason), mention of a break-up

Author's Note: Honestly... I didn't want to make another one for Will and Hannibal. I'd probably pick Alana or Margot over either one of them anyway.

**Not in chronological order

----------------------------------

Alana Bloom:

Carolina

She's got a book for every situation Gets into parties without invitations How could you ever turn her down?

Going to Hannibal's party was the best and worst idea that I've ever had. Worst because I ended up tangled in a world of bullshit that I should've avoided like the plague. Best because Dr. Alana Bloom. She definitely made up for the worst side of the argument.

She caught my eye as soon as I walked in. She was the definition of gorgeous. I wanted to know all about her as soon as I could.

I spent a while playing a careful game. I would sneak a few looks before turning away. I didn't move toward her until I caught her looking at me. I smirked at her before walking toward a mostly empty corner of the room, leaning against the wall as I waited for her.

"Hello," I said as she walked over. I stood up straight and held out a hand to her. "(Y/n)."

"Alana... Bloom," she replied. "I'm a psychology professor."

"So... Dr. Alana Bloom," I asked. She chuckled before nodding. "Can't say that I have the same honor. I'm just an artist."

"I don't believe 'just' belongs in that sentence," she glanced at her drinks for a moment. "What science and psychology cannot fully understand of the human mind can be found in the art we create."

"And yet, I don't get some fancy title," I joked. She chuckled. "Do you have any interest in art?"

"I can't say that I'm any form of expert," she replied. "I'd like to know more."

I bit the inside of my cheek for a second. "I would be happy to teach someone like you. We could start with my own work. I'm working on a new set."

"Free promotion?"

"Oh, maybe," I said sarcastically before chuckling. "Maybe I could tell you more about it later?"

"I'd like that."

I grinned. "I'll talk to you later, Dr. Bloom."

I didn't see her for a while after that. I had stepped away into a quiet separate room. I was just clearing my head when she walked in. She grinned at me.

"Come looking for that information," I asked, half-joking as I stood up.

"Yeah," she nodded. "If you don't mind sharing."

"Of course," I stepped closer to her slowly, begging to whatever entity ran the universe that I wasn't wrong. "My hope is to find the perfect balance between the world and people. How the two meet and mix. Or, should mix."

"Statement on the climate?"

"In part," I nodded, taking another step forward. "What about you, Dr. Bloom? What do you work on?"

"I... I teach more than anything," she shrugged. "I've been doing guest lectures at the F.B.I."

"You teach the good guys how to catch the bad guys?"

"At times," she nodded.

There was a pause between us.

"I hope I'm not over-stepping, but you are beautiful," I complimented.

"Thank you," she replied, slightly awkwardly. "You... You are too. I... I was honestly looking at you for most of the night."

"So was I," I mumbled, moving forward yet again.

When she didn't step away, I leaned in slowly and pressed my lips to hers. She froze up for a moment before slowly kissing me back. I hummed against her lips.

My hands fell to her sides, pulling her as close to me as I could. She wrapped her arms around my neck. I gasped lightly when she walked me back toward a wall. I smirked into the kiss, gripping onto her a little tighter.

It took everything in my power to keep from moving down to kiss the skin of her neck. I was so wrapped up in the moment, that was the only thing keeping me from losing my head.

I don't know how long we spent in that same spot, just kissing each other. I just knew that I liked it. I really, really liked it.

I chuckled as I pulled away from the kiss, my forehead resting on hers. Her face was red, and she was trying to even out her breathing.

"It was nice to meet you, Dr. Alana Bloom," I said. "Let me know if you ever want to see that collection that I told you about."

"You too," she muttered.

I stepped away, made sure I looked presentable, and walked back into the main room of the party. As I did, I spotted Hannibal on the other side of the room. He was almost glaring at me. I grinned sarcastically at him, waving a little bit. He forced a grin, nodding at me once before turning back to who he had been talking to.

This was going to be fun.

Sweet Creature

Sweet creature, sweet creature Wherever I go, you bring me home Sweet creature, sweet creature When I run out of road, you bring me home

The mornings with Alana were always soft.

It was almost like our brains did a reset after being together for the night. We would lay in this glow together for as long as we could. It was a brief moment of escape from whatever was happening in the world around us. Neither one of us ever wanted to leave.

She had become a grounding source for me. No matter what I experienced during the day, I would be pulled back to Earth as soon as I found my place in Alana's arms again. She was my path home.

It was one of those mornings that I felt something was different. The moment I woke up, I knew what it was. I had fallen in love with her.

We were laying under her covers together. I was running my thumb along her cheekbone, grinning at her. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment before she smiled back at me.

She was glowing. Intoxicating, fascinating, enchanting, entrancing. Any word you can use to say beautiful in every sense of the word. She made me feel weak in all of the best ways.

I never wanted to lose that.

"You're so beautiful," I whispered, kissing her gently.

Alana hummed against my lips, shifting to almost lay on top of me. I moved one hand to her hair and the other laying on her back. She slowly pulled back, grinning down at me.

I grinned, my eyes scanning every part of her face. I was taking note of every detail. Every piece that I wanted to memorize. I wanted to keep them imprinted on the back of my eyelids.

"Can I... Can I say something," I asked. "It might be kind of stupid."

"What?"

"Alana... I... I love you," I mumbled like I could change the impact of the words if I just said them a little lighter.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, clearly shocked.

"I'm sorry-"

"That was not a stupid thing to say," she cut me off. "I love you too."

I leaned up and kissed her again, holding onto her a little tighter as I did. She kissed me back slowly, grinning against my lips. I pulled back a little, nudging her nose with mine.

I could get used to this.

Late Night Talking

We've been doing all this late night talking 'Bout anything you want until the morning Now you're in my life I can't get you off my mind

After our first meeting at the party, Alana and I started an... interesting relationship. Not quite a couple, but exclusive. It was a little more casual. More nights together than actual dates. I didn't mind it. It was fun. We were both enjoying ourselves.

It was maybe five in the morning after one of our nights when I found Alana had moved to stand on my patio.

She had my robe wrapped around her. She was staring out at the sky, watching it change colors as she waited for me to wake up. I pulled on some underwear and my shirt before starting to take close steps toward her.

"You look like royalty," I said as I got to the door.

"I doubt that," she replied. "I have a bird's nest sitting on my head and my make-up from yesterday is smudged."

"Well, that can still mean you look like royalty," I wrapped my arms around her, my chin resting on her shoulder.

"Oh, and what are you? A loyal subject?"

"Whenever you want me to be," I chuckled, kissing her shoulder.

There was a long pause between us. Alana had one hand tracing my arm. I let out a quiet sigh, relaxing into her further.

I was getting to the point that I couldn't picture being without her for a long period of time. All I wanted was her. Close to me. In any way that I could have her.

"What's on your mind," I asked after a while. She hummed. "You seem lost in thought."

"It's... It's Will," she mumbled. "I'm still worrying about him."

"Do you think he's innocent?"

"I... I don't know," she ran a hand over her face. "You shouldn't have to listen to any of this. It's not your job to worry about it."

"I'm worried because I care about you," I replied. "Anything you want to talk about, we can talk about it. It's all up to you."

"Because I'm your royalty," she joked.

"Of course, your majesty," I chuckled dramatically. "Now, what would you like to talk about?"

Margot Verger:

Matilda

You can let it go You can throw a party full of everyone you know And not invite your family 'Cause they never showed you love You don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up

It was rare for Margot and me to feel safe staying the night together. However, on the rare occasion that Mason had to go finish some deal, we had the night to ourselves.

We wouldn't usually sleep much. We wanted to savor any time that we had together.

It was late. We were laying together in Margot's bed. She was laying on her front, cheek resting on her arm as she looked at me. I was laying on my side, barely letting my fingertips brush against her skin. We had been whispering to each other under the covers when my finger brushed one of her scars.

She tensed. So did I.

"Sorry," I mumbled before leaning forward to kiss her gently. "You're beautiful."

She closed her eyes for a moment before sighing. She didn't believe me.

I carefully pushed the covers off of her back. I followed it down. I let my lips brush every scar that I could find. Margot hummed, relaxing with each kiss.

Once I reached the last scar, I moved back up. My lips traced her spine up to her ear.

"We should just run," I mumbled, moving to kiss her neck.

"You know that's not an option."

"It is," I replied. "I have enough money for us to be comfortable. We can run and never look back. Leave behind your brother and this place..."

She sighed.

"I can love you properly," I continued. "Not in secret. I can love you outside of these four walls."

She hummed as I moved to press my lips to hers. One of her hands moved to my side, pulling me closer to her.

"Please," I begged.

She frowned at me. "I'll think about it. I... I don't want to let my brother be able to follow us."

I nodded.

"I... I love you," she promised. "I really do. This is just... messy."

I pecked her forehead. "I love you too."

Falling

What am I now? What am I now? What if you're someone I just want around? I'm falling again

I hadn't been expecting to see Margot after she told me to leave. I wanted to support her, but I could only do so much when she cut me off.

But here she was, standing on my doorstep.

"Margot," I asked. "What are you doing here?"

"I... I wanted to see you," she replied. "M-Mason's gone."

"Oh," I furrowed my eyebrows.

"He's dead."

"Oh," my eyes went wide.

I moved to the side and let her walk inside. I closed the door behind her and offered her a drink. She nodded, sitting on the couch while I got her a glass.

"I only told you to go because of him."

I nodded and handed her the drink. "I know."

"We're safe now," she continued.

"Margot-"

"We can be happy together now. Truly happy. Free. It's what you wanted-"

"Margot, please," I closed my eyes for a moment. "I wanted to support you. Be there for you. You sent me away."

"For your safety."

"You don't get to make that decision on your own," I said. "There are two people in that dynamic. I knew any potential risk. I deserved to be part of that discussion, Margot."

She looked down at her drink.

"I loved you," I continued. "I still love you. You are the best thing I've ever had. You sending me away hurt. If you truly thought I was in danger, then you should've talked to me. Don't just throw me out."

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "You're right and I'm sorry."

I closed my eyes and looked away again. "I know you were scared. That's why I wanted to stay."

She nodded.

There was a long pause between. Nothing less to say about the situation. What else was there? I felt like an asshole, but I wanted to support her. I wanted to support her, and she stopped me.

"What do we do now," she asked quietly.

"I... I don't know," I replied.

"I still love you."

"I know," I nodded. "I do too."

With both took a deep breath at the same time before looking at each other.

This was going to be one of the longest nights of our lives.

Adore You

Oh honey I'd walk through fire for you Just let me adore you Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

My family was old friends with the Verger family.

Well, more business partners than anything. We didn't see them much outside of a professional setting. Meetings or professional dinners or parties. There was a very clear boundary.

After their father passed, my dad felt the need to discuss the future with Mason, who took over after his father passed. I didn't care about any of that. I only tagged along in the hopes of seeing Margot.

The two were gone discussing their business when I walked to Margot's room. She was staring out the window, a sling on her arm.

I had always been more drawn to Margot than her brother. It was like she had her own gravitational pull and I got caught in it.

To put it simply, she was perfect to me.

"I heard about what happened," I said, getting her attention. She looked at me for a moment before looking out the window again.

I shut the door behind me and walked over. I sat next to her, trying to see what she saw. When I couldn't, I looked over at her.

"I think he deserved it," I added. "Mason's an ass."

"You've always been very blunt about him."

"He deserves it."

Margot looked at me. I grinned at her. My eyes fell to her arm.

"I'm fine," she insisted.

"He treats you terribly," I muttered.

I felt my brain filling with every way I could get him to pay. Every way that I could stop him. But any of those would screw Margot over financially. All I could do was sit with my rage.

"I care about you, Margot," I continued. "Deeply."

I moved forward, reaching over to grab the hand of her unharmed arm. She looked down at them.

"I would do anything you asked," my voice dropped down to a whisper. "No matter what it was. If you asked, I would say yes."

"Anything," she asked.

I nodded. "Absolutely anything."

I closed the distance between us and kissed her gently. It was only a matter of moments before I leaned back again. She didn't move much, studying each part of my face.

"I just want to protect you, Margot."

After that, I stood up and started walking out the door.

"I want to protect you too," she called when I reached the door. I stopped for a moment and grinned.

"I'll see you soon, Margot."

She made anything that could happen worth it.

----------------------------------

Masterlist (Includes links to All Writing Challenges)

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

#alana bloom x reader #alana bloom fanfiction #alana bloom imagine #fanfiction #imagine #x reader #hannibal x reader #hannibal preference #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal imagine #margot verger x reader #margot verger fanfiction #margot verger imagine

[house-of-slayterr]

Hannibal Crack-Cannons: aka Incorrect Quotes:

@myers-meadow-selfship @iloveslasher @the-limp-linguine

Hannibal:

Despite what you think, Hannibal IS a himbo…

Now hear me out. He’s obviously very educated, but when it comes to being a person he is CLUELESS.

Like Hannibal never expects someone to actually get close to him, and when they do, he panics. And he makes a bunch of clumsy little social mistakes, that frankly, are adorable.

He’s a friendship himbo and I stand by that!

S/O: *touches Hannibal’s hand in public, unprovoked*

Hannibal who is not used to genuine affection: *staring at them* why?

S/O: *facepalming*

William:

But if we wanna talk real Himbos….

Cause bro! Wtf are you doing? Homeboy is a MESS.

The only thought in Will’s head is that tik tok audio that’s like “I don’t know what’s going on, and frankly, I don’t wanna know” and he likes it like that.

Will on his 4th cup of coffee of the day: *pushes a door that CLEARLY says pull*

S/O: For your sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that *holds open door for him, smiling at how adorable he is when he gets flustered*

Jack:

This man is a FREAK!

Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t think he’s into a lot of kinky shit in the bedroom. Man is a respectful switch!

Will: *seeing his boss by rope and duct tape at the corner store*

Jack: it’s not what it looks like-

Alana:

BI WIFE ENERGY, SHE HAS BI WIFE ENERGY!

I think Alana is also a switch, don’t know when this became a NSFW post but we’re rolling with it 🤪

But I totally see her letting men be dominate cause she doesn’t want to hurt their fragile little egos. But with a woman, oh boy! Alana cannot keep her hands to herself, and she doesn’t pretend to want to.

This woman is a flirt by nature. She will Gaslight, Gatekeeper and Girlboss her way into your heart. She’s a smooth motherfucker and you’ll never see her coming… I mean… unless you want to 👀 then by all means 😉

She totally humble brags about you latter.

Beverly:

A Roxy kinnie, prove me wrong!

That’s it, that’s the whole headcannon. If you know, you know!

Abigail:

Abigail is just Violet Harmon in a different universe, and thank god she never met her Tate. Oh dear god, what a night mare that would be!

Abigail with S/O:

Frederick:

There’s not even a headcannon here, just like, imagine if Fred was played by this motherfucker…

Instead of this motherfucker…

Also have this video of Fred’s actor being iconic, this is just Frederick when he’s alone 😂.

So I guess the headcannon is that Frederick is a musical theatre kid confirmed!

Belinda:

Wine Mom confirmed!

Freddie:

As we fucking should!

Mason:

This is just a shameless way for me to promote one of my old videos. I was proud of this meme and more people should see it!

Brian:

Drinks respect boyfriend juice!

But I also hope you like being a third wheel on dates, cause where Brian goes, Jimmy will be there. Good thing they’re both cute 😉

Jimmy:

Jimbo texting his S/O:

And anyone who gets a glimpse at these text is instantly terrified and convinced you’re both doing some sort of seance through the phone. But it’s just you’re average Tuesday.

Margo Verger as a lesbian icon:

#Hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal headcanons #Alana bloom #jack crawford #will Graham #frederick chilton #Belinda du maurier #abigail hobbs #beverly katz #Freddie Lounds #Margo verger #Brian seller #jimmy price #mason verger #hannibal x reader #x reader #s/o headcanons #winx club

[sexy-opium-ravioli]

Promptober 2023 Masterlist

Hello!!! I hope this explains the absence :) but I'm doing a promptober, and this is the masterlist!! Big thank you to @lipglossanon for inspiring me to finally bite the bullet and take a swing at promptober <3 The masterlist will be updated as the works are uploaded, but I included a sneak peek for the first of October :3

✭ᐧ֯ 𐩑❍ᐧ֯𐩑✧ ⚬ᐧ֯☆ᐧ֯ 𐩑⚬𐩑 ᐧ֯✧ᐧ֯𐩑★

October 1st:

Media: Resident Evil

Prompt: Cozy/Stay in night

Rating: NSFW

Pairing: Leon s. Kennedy/Reader

October 2nd

Media: Hannibal (TV)

Prompt: Fall picnic

Rating: SFW

Pairing: Alana Bloom/Margot Verger

#blondieannounces! #promptober #october #spooky season!! #Im so excited :) #this is the first time I've actually done a promptober #resident evil #leon s. kennedy #leon s. kennedy x reader #death island!leon #hannibal #margot verger #alana bloom

[ihavemanyhusbands]

High Risk

PART TWO: SILVER TONGUED DEVIL

Also on AO3

Part One // Mini-Series Masterlist

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Nurse!Fem!Reader

WC: 3.1k words

Chapter Summary: In order to form a deeper connection with Hannibal, hoping to keep him complacent, Doctor Chilton allows you to have dinner with him…. Mostly unsupervised.

Warnings: MINORS DNI THIS FIC IS 18+, slight canon divergence (frederick is still head of baltimore state hospital), manipulation all around, some jealousy, corruption, smut, handjob, kinda audio voyeurism but not really?, also kinda exhibitionistic but not really??, some alcohol consumption, aaaand thats all i can think of rn but lmk if i missed anything!

————-

You waited outside of the double doors with a guard, patiently carrying Hannibal’s meal tray. He had a visitor, a mutual acquaintance of Doctor Chilton’s, and they were not to be disturbed.

You couldn’t understand why you had to be standing there, but you figured it was a power move on Doctor Chilton’s part. Reminding you of your place. 

Your eyes flicked up to the security camera in the corner, suspecting he was watching more than one of them at a time. More than half an hour had passed, the silence stretching on infinitely. The guard had briefly tried to engage you in small talk, but he had quickly realized it was pointless. You already knew what sort of questions he would ask if he felt like he had any leeway, and you were not in the mood for it.

Already there were rumors speculating the sort of favors Hannibal was asking of you. You’d felt the gazes on you, caught the murmurs behind your back. You couldn’t deny that the more animal part of you, the one that had no such regard for personal safety, hadn’t thought about him that way. 

A few times, he had slipped a folded piece of paper for you to find when you retrieved his meal trays. Always sketches of you, symbolic renditions meant to convey messages. His attention to detail was astounding. Almost… devoted, in a way. 

Every time you posed for him, you found yourself enjoying his focus more and more. The thrill of it all was narcotic, but you only hated that it had brought other people’s attention to you. 

The doors suddenly opened and a tall, well dressed woman stepped out. She was strikingly beautiful, with icy blue eyes and neatly styled dark hair. Her lips were painted ruby, which further accentuated her features in an elegant but almost severe way.

Doctor Alana Bloom was her name. You’d heard of her from both Doctor Chilton and Hannibal, but you hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting her in person until then.

“My, you’re a looker,” she said, inspecting you as if you were an insect under a microscope. “No wonder.”

You only smiled politely, internally seething. She could see right through you, smiling in return.

“He’ll charm the pants off you if you’re not careful.”

With that, she walked away, heels clicking down the hallway. The guard next to you let out a huff and you shot a glare in his direction.

He pushed off the wall and followed her, while you turned the other way and slipped into Hannibal’s cell room.

“Sorry, it might be a little cold,” you said as a greeting, making your way over to the slot. 

“You were waiting for me?” He asked.

“I was told to wait until you were done, yes.”

He noticed you were avoiding looking at him, though the displeasure itself wasn’t directed at him. He smiled a little to himself with satisfaction.

“Doctor Bloom is an old colleague of mine, but our history goes a little further than that,” he said. “A futile affair, that was.”

“No rekindling the flame then?” You asked before you could stop yourself. 

Of course that wasn’t what the visit was about, you knew as much. But you were still bristling from her words, and the smugness in them.

“No,” Hannibal said. “I’m afraid we are mutually uninterested, though we have some business left over.”

You hummed in thought, composing yourself. “I apologize for asking, it’s none of my business.”

“You may ask me whatever you want. I won’t mind telling you.”

You tilted your head to the side, where another camera was perched up in the corner. 

“We don’t have such liberties,” you said pointedly. “Though who knows? Maybe there’s an argument for our case.”

With that, a small, coquettish grin and a glance in his direction. Hannibal sat up straighter, licking his lips.  He glanced up at the camera, also well aware that Frederick was listening.

If anything, the two of you had been enjoying toying with him in any small way you could. It drove him crazy, but he mostly seethed in silence, knowing he was equally matched in this game.

“Perhaps dinner might be a good place to start,” he said.

“Oh yes, I would like that very much,” you said, exaggerating a wistful sigh. “But we shall see.”

————————————

“You know, you’re getting a little bold with all these requests,” Doctor Chilton said, arms crossed over his chest. 

“I know you have your methods of trying to get information out of him — or at least you think so,” you said, unbothered. “I mean, he has been much more forthcoming because of me, hasn’t he? I have my methods, too.”

He let out a sardonic chuckle. “Clearly. Others seem to think so, too, no?”

You didn’t give in to his goading, changing the subject instead. “Much luck with Doctor Bloom?”

“Some, actually,” he said, his sneer faltering. “But that shouldn’t really concern you. You’re still his favorite little doll to play with.”

And you mine, you thought to yourself, containing a grin.

“I’m aware,” you said instead, raising an eyebrow. “So it’s not too unreasonable to have dinner with him, especially with the glass still separating us.”

“Oh, but you’d be so much more useful if you were up close and personal. I could put you in one of the interrogation rooms and keep him handcuffed... But the problem is, he asked for total privacy. No cameras and no audio recordings,” he countered. “I cannot possibly do both. You know that’s not how it works.”

You pretended to think about it for a moment, but you already knew what the obvious answer was.

“No cameras, then,” you said. “I would say that’s fair, no? You might not care for the video footage, anyway, not without sound.”

He narrowed his eyes but nodded in assent, knowing it was the best he would get. The ghost of a self-satisfied smile was on your lips, pleasure at getting what you wanted dancing in your eyes. 

As long as the rest of the team was getting the information they needed, by whatever means necessary, he supposed he couldn’t grouse too much. Regardless, that didn’t make him any less annoyed at being backed into a corner.

“You get an hour and a half tops,” he said with finality. “Work your magic. And wear something nice, why don’t you?”

————————————

The table had already been set for you when you arrived. A mediocre attempt at something romantic, with a few little tea lights and a half-dead flower in a plastic cup. You supposed the guards couldn’t be bothered with such nonsense, but it was also more mockery on Frederick’s part. 

But at that very moment, you couldn’t care less. In fact, you found yourself… excited for the night's events. 

It was nice not to wear your uniform for once, your nicest black dress in its place. It was nothing too special, but you only wore it on certain occasions, such as dates.

And while this may be the macabre version of a date, it was a date nonetheless.

You’d styled your hair differently, put on a little make up and even wore perfume, which you were rarely able to do. It was liberating in a way, as if granting you permission to step out of bounds a little more. You wouldn’t waste such an opportunity.

Your heels clicked softly on the linoleum floor as you slowly paced the room, anxiously waiting. You glanced down at your watch, and right as it hit eight o’clock, the door opened. Hannibal was led in by a guard, his hands cuffed in front of him. He smiled at the sight of you, his eyes roaming up and down to better appreciate you. 

Your heart immediately started racing, both from nerves and giddiness. You focused solely on him as he was led to the table, the situation becoming less surreal by the second. Despite the fact that he was in his usual jumpsuit, you could tell he had meticulously groomed himself as best as he could. 

Another guard came in to place two trays on the table, but the food wasn’t from the cafeteria. Apparently, Hannibal had been allowed to cook a two-course meal, dessert included. There was even some wine, but you had to settle for plastic cups instead of glasses. Not that either of you seemed to mind, too busy sizing each other up. 

It felt strange, not seeing him through a thick panel of glass, but it was even stranger to sit right across from him. You only had to reach out your arm and you’d be able to touch him… if it wasn’t forbidden, of course.

“I’m surprised Doctor Chilton did not join us for dinner,” he said as the guard cuffed him to the table.

“He’ll be here in spirit,” you said, briefly nodding at the two guards before they stepped out of the room. “But I think it’s better this way, don’t you agree?”

“Much better,” he agreed, pausing a moment until the door finally shut. “You look beautiful, by the way… And you smell good enough to eat. Just as I thought you would.”

You grinned at his dark sense of humor, suppressing a shudder as you crossed your legs and leaned back. “Well, flattery will get you anywhere.”

“And wine?”

He grabbed the already uncorked bottle of wine and raised his eyebrows. You nodded and he poured for both of you. 

“We shall see,” you said, taking the cup from him and holding his gaze.

“Well, a toast to our very gracious host,” he said, raising his cup. “For making all this happen.”

You tapped your cup against his with a soft cheers before taking a sip. He proceeded to give you a detailed explanation of what you would be eating, nearly putting you in a trance. His voice had a hypnotic quality to it, managing to soothe your nerves. Without really noticing, the two of you were leaning forward, the conversation taking on an almost intimate quality – even if the subject matter was anything but. 

Before he touched his food, he encouraged you to try first. He watched you eat, his amber eyes lingering on your lips as you licked them. You had never tasted anything so complex or refined, but knowing it was put together by him made it even more of a delicacy. You let out a pleasured hum, barely holding back from getting another bite.

“My compliments to the chef,” you said, taking another sip of wine instead. “It’s almost enough to convince me to eat anything you cook.”

He chuckled. “Oh, if we were not within these four walls, I would have made a whole feast just for you. I’m sure Frederick has told you of my dinner parties.”

“But then it’s likely we wouldn’t have met outside these walls,” you said, not wanting to talk about Doctor Chilton. “Unless, of course, you frequent this sort of place.”

“I am not unfamiliar, I will give you that,” he said. “But our meeting has been the only good thing about this whole situation, and for that, I am grateful.”

You put a hand on your chest, teasingly pretending to be touched. “How sweet, are you going to quote more Byron for me next?”

He laughed, finally digging into his food. Conversation flowed with surprising ease as you continued to eat. Perhaps it was partly due to the wine, but it also helped that you were eager to listen to his thoughts on things. You were well aware of his intelligence, and it was stimulating to finally talk to someone that had so many layers to uncover.

By the time you got to dessert, he was bold enough to spoon feed you the first bite, awaiting your reaction. The taste was just as amazing, but you were more interested in the gesture. The way he was gazing at you with ardor, kindling your insides – A hunger of a different kind. 

“Tell me something,” he said, clearing his throat. “If it weren’t for Frederick, would you have accepted an invitation to dine with me?”

“Depends, if you’d played your cards right, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it would’ve been possible.” You tilted your head to one side slightly. “But you’re much too valuable, are you not? They have to keep you happy.”

“You certainly have.” 

You let out a huff of amusement, propping your elbow on the table and resting your chin on your hand. Briefly, you thought again of all the rumors circulating about the two of you. This time, though, it didn’t really seem to matter all that much anymore. They’ll keep talking anyway, so why not just do whatever the hell I want?

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Do you always manage to get what you want?” 

He shrugged as if he couldn’t help it, making you chuckle. “What’s your secret, hmm? How do you do it?”

“You aren’t able to come any closer, are you?”

“Of course not, Hannibal.” You pretended to scoff. “We’ve got to keep our hands to ourselves, too.”

There was a devilish grin on your face as you slowly got up from your seat. You slipped your shoes off and brought a finger to your lips to indicate silence. It was titillating, truth be told, to be straddling the fine line between reckless abandon and caution. Especially when you were clearly leaning more towards one side.

“Pity,” he said, watching your every move, smile mirroring your own. “I would have liked to whisper it in your ear.”

You slid onto the chair next to him and he turned his body to face you. You looked down at his jumpsuit, locating the zipper, before looking back into his eyes. He slightly dipped his chin in assent, and you reached a hand up to his chest.

“Tell me something else, then,” you said, dragging it down slowly so as not to make much noise. 

“Like what?” he asked, holding his breath as more and more of his body was revealed. 

His blood was quickly flowing south, the consequences of this becoming apparent as the zipper reached the end of the line. Your mouth fell open in both surprise and eagerness, exhaling a shuddery breath. He kept his hands off as you carefully eased his erection out of his underwear, fingertips brushing the velvety underside.  

“Anything at all,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “You’re a romantic, aren’t you? I want to hear your ideas on love.”

You stood up and slid your panties down your legs without lifting your dress too much. You watched him swallow hard as you sat back down, letting the fabric fall on his lap.

“For the mess,” you whispered in his ear, your body pressed close to his. “And a little souvenir for you to keep after.”

He nodded, spine straightening as you planted a kiss just beneath his earlobe. You held his gaze as you spat in the palm of your hand and reached down to curl your fingers around his shaft. His hips immediately bucked into your grip, and you heard him suck in a breath.

“Love, hmm?” He cleared his throat. “You want to know what makes me tick?”

“Absolutely,” you purred, hand moving up and down slowly, wrist flicking slightly when you reached the tip. “Though I may already have a few ideas...”

As much as you wanted to tease him, elongating his pleasure, you didn’t have much time to spare. Your faces were close together, but you fought off the urge to kiss him. His breathing became more labored as your hand continued its rhythmic movements, the heady scent of you – and of your arousal – enveloping him.

He’d had his fantasies about you on many late nights, but your actual touch was another thing entirely, better than what he could have imagined. And knowing he was affecting you in the same way… the chain of his handcuff rattled against the table a little as he strained, trying his hardest not to touch you back. He would want you to be loud, anyway, and that was not an option there.

“W-well, I certainly like to be surprised,” he said haltingly. “And I admire boldness. But to love in itself is a bold a-action, wouldn’t you agree?

“I wouldn’t know much about that,” you said, slicking his pre-cum around the head of his cock with your thumb. “But I do know how to be a lover.”

The light graze of your teeth on his earlobe made his body jerk, his cock pulsing in your hand. You picked up the pace, his chest heaving as his hips almost involuntarily rocked to meet each stroke. Your lips moved to his jaw and down to his neck, and you listened to him babble about something else, trying to fill in the silence. 

Your attention was on his body’s reactions and you could tell he was dangerously close to the edge.  You silently warned him not to stop talking as his cock began to twitch, and you had only seconds before you quickly had to cover your hand with your discarded panties. He bit his bottom lip as he spilled all over the fabric, little noises of pleasure stuck in his throat, one hand gripping your arm. 

You smiled against his skin, lavishing his neck with some more attention as he faintly sighed your name. And when he was done riding out his high, you turned his face towards you and planted a small kiss on his lips as if to reward him. 

He was panting, still lost in the dizzying aftershocks of his orgasm, but you helped clean him up some and zipped his jumpsuit back up, your panties still hidden within. You glanced down at your watch, seeing you only had twenty minutes left. 

You slipped back to your side of the table as if nothing was amiss, but the devious glint in your eyes was undeniable. He was lost and he knew it, already wanting – no, needing – more. So much more. Luckily, it was as you had said; He’d always been good at getting what he wanted.

“I’ve had a really good time tonight, Hannibal,” you sighed contentedly, already aware you would be carrying this with you for the rest of the night. “You sure are good company.”

“As are you,” he said, his voice calmer, though something was lurking underneath. “Perhaps… we might arrange for it to happen soon.”

A thrill danced over your skin at the prospect of it. “Perhaps. Only if you’re on your best behavior.”

------

#Hannibal Lecter x reader #Hannibal Lecter x nurse!reader #Hannibal Lecter fanfiction #Hannibal Lecter smut #Hannibal fanfiction #Hannibal smut #minors dni #mini series

[ficnation]

Chapter 10: The Big Bad Wolf

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 5,0k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings, canon divergence, gore A/n: I hope you enjoy it just as much as I did. This is also a bday present for my friend. Happy birthday!!! Don't freak out <3 Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

“Every social worker enjoys certain aspects of the job more than others,” the man explains with a smile that seems almost too forced; it’s been glued to his face since the moment Alana greeted him. “There are cases that you reach and cases you don’t reach.”

You spin the pen between your fingers with a steady rhythm, your mind wandering and tuning in and out of the conversation between Clark Ingram and Alana Bloom. But something about his demeanor strikes you—the way his bright smile seems permanently plastered on his face. It’s off-putting, unnatural, as if he’s struggling to maintain the facade of a polite and helpful citizen.

“Peter’s had persistent cognitive problems. Confusion, paranoia, rage.”

“Peter’s a sheep,” you mutter to no one in particular. “He can’t hurt an animal, let alone a human being.”

“You really like sheep, don’t you?” Jack jokes, reminding you of your choice of words from not long ago.

You look at him with a raised brow before nudging him in the arm with your elbow. “And you don’t? At least sheep don’t bite.”

Jack chuckles at your retort, but his expression quickly turns serious as he turns his attention back to Clark Ingram. “So, what do you think, Agent Avant? Is Peter Bernardone capable of violence?”

You pause, considering the question carefully. “It’s hard to say,” you reply, your tone measured. “But based on what we know so far, it doesn’t seem likely. His cognitive issues suggest a lack of capacity for such brutal acts. If he was ever violent toward anyone, it’s likely he was pushed to his limits and lashed out.”

Will and Hannibal stand to your left, listening intently to the conversation between you and Jack, as well as the one taking place on the other side of the thick one-way mirror. Their expressions are unreadable, betraying little of what they might be thinking or feeling.

They’re silent until the moment when Alana reaches out to touch Ingram’s hand. The social worker does nothing to hide his discomfort as he quickly shifts his hands away and leans further into his chair.

“That’s smart,” Will explains, hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. “She keeps pushing him on his feelings, not on the facts.”

Hannibal nods in agreement, his gaze focused on the interaction between Alana and Ingram. He casts a fleeting glance in your direction every now and then, his eyes catching your presence in his peripheral vision before returning to the scene before him.

“She’s trying to gauge how comfortable he is with emotion, if he has any,” Will adds, glancing at you too, curious to know your thoughts. “He couldn’t bear being touched by her.”

“It’s a telling reaction,” you remark, your voice calm and measured. “It suggests a deep-seated discomfort with emotional intimacy. Perhaps indicative of a psychopath?”

“Yes, his responses are typical of psychopaths during interviews, but could also indicate resentment,” Hannibal agrees.

“No, I don’t believe it’s resentment or hatred towards women,” you assert, your tone firm. Your eyes narrow thoughtfully.

“No, his eyes are dead,” Will concludes. “He’s a predator.”

“It’s the absence of empathy, of any real connection to the people around him. That’s what makes him dangerous.” You glance over at your husband, seeking confirmation or perhaps an alternative perspective, he acknowledges your words with a nod of his head.

The conversation between Ingram and Alana continues for a while longer, but your mind is too preoccupied to fully focus. You’re aware of their words, but your thoughts are elsewhere. You can’t shake the feeling that Ingram is hiding something. It’s the way he recoils from her touch, the way he conceals himself behind smiles and warm words. There’s an eerie resemblance to your father that sends chills down your spine; something in his demeanor triggers warning bells, a deep and primal instinct for danger.

You attempt to refocus on the conversation, but Ingram’s subtle gestures and body language keep drawing your attention. There’s something sinister about him, a feeling that resonates deep within your bones.

Suddenly, Jack’s voice pierces through the room, pulling you away from your thoughts. “Let him go,” he commands.

The panic in Will’s eyes prompts you to react, and you turn towards your boss with an annoyed expression. “Jack, don’t do that. You know he’s the one.”

“I’ve got nothing to hold him on,” Jack responds calmly.

“We can still get something out of him,” you insist, your eyes pleading. You couldn’t care less about the killer on the other side of the glass, but it’s evident that Will is invested in this case.

“Peter Bernardone is psychologically disadvantaged. He’s been manipulated,” Will argues, his hands clenching into fists by his sides. “As his social worker, this man is in a position of trust, and he has betrayed that trust.”

The realization hits you like a brick—this is personal. In a twisted, complicated way, this is no longer about catching the man responsible for killing sixteen women in cold blood. It might not even be about Peter anymore. The next sentence coming out of Will’s mouth confirms it.

“I know what it’s like to point at a killer and have no one listen.”

“You pointed in the wrong direction.” It’s all Jack says before leaving the room.

Your gaze instantly finds your husband’s face—his expression a mix of disbelief and powerlessness. You reach for his hand, and he doesn’t resist at all as you squeeze it reassuringly, nails gripping into his skin to keep his mind in the room with you and Hannibal. God, Hannibal. You almost forgot about his presence beside you with how quiet he’s become.

“We won’t let Peter Bernardone suffer for all of this, Will,” you assure him. It’s all you can offer—a useless promise that you might not be able to fulfill.

You find yourself in the BAU’s headquarters not long after, walking through the almost-empty corridors leading toward Crawford’s office. You can’t shake your husband’s heartbroken expression from your mind. It lingers hauntingly in the back of your thoughts, refusing to be forgotten.

The atmosphere is uncomfortably quiet, with only the echo of your footsteps breaking the silence as you make your way through the corridor. Your focus is consumed by the folder in your hands, flipping through its pages absentmindedly for at least half an hour. The world around you becomes a misty haze as you try to concentrate on the contrasting words printed on the white paper.

Suddenly, you’re snapped back to reality as someone grabs you by the arm and forcefully pulls you into the nearest room. The sequence of events unfolds so rapidly that it’s all just a massive blur.

“Hey, what the hell!” You react instinctively, swinging blindly at your assailant. Your hands make contact with their face, nails poised dangerously close to their eyes. It’s not the most efficient form of self-defense, but your reflexes have dulled since you’ve been out of the field.

As your vision clears, you recognize those dark, menacing eyes, though you’ve never seen them so up-close before. Their gaze is hypnotizing, compelling you to loosen your grip on their jaw. Despite the danger, you can’t bring yourself to let go entirely.

“It’s just me,” Hannibal’s voice cuts through the tension, tranquil and unaffected by the threat of your fingers near his eyes. His hands grip your elbows firmly, though not painfully, as he meets your panicked stare head-on.

“Why did you grab me like that?” you question him, a hint of vexation in your tone, though you notice how soft his skin feels under your palms.

“Do you prefer a gentler approach?” Hannibal responds calmly, his demeanor unruffled.

You blink slowly, confusion replacing your initial anger. You glance around the empty conference room behind him. “Why are we here?”

Hannibal’s grip on you loosens slightly as he looks over his shoulder before acknowledging your question. It appears he only just became aware of your location himself. “Coincidence.”

Hannibal’s eyes find yours again, and you both stare at each other in silence, unmoving. The tension between you is palpable, each moment stretched taut like a drawn bowstring. You’re not even sure if either of you is breathing, but you can still detect the faint fragrance of his cologne—notes of leather, cedarwood, and a hint of something darker and more mysterious, perhaps oud. The stillness of the air crackles with anticipation, and your shared curiosity poses the question: “who moves first?”

“Would it be rude of me to ask you to release me?” he finally breaks the tension, his tone almost reluctant, as if he secretly wished you would hold onto him a little longer.

You release him, albeit with some apprehension. “You wanted to see how I handle sudden threats, huh?” Your words are more of a statement than a question, delivered with a certainty that seeks confirmation.

“Yes,” he replies simply, catching you off guard with his honesty. It’s almost unnerving how straightforward his answer is.

You watch as a tiny smile quirks one corner of his mouth, the faintest twitch of his lips. It’s as if he was born to be intimidating yet effortlessly charming at the same time. Everything he does seems so well thought-through to the point of being eerie.

“And what conclusion did you reach?” you ask, striving to keep your voice steady. There’s an undercurrent of tension flowing between the two of you, and you can feel his eyes scrutinizing you, taking in every detail.

“More of a confirmation, really,” he replies, his gaze traveling from your face to your hands and back.

You know he noticed your hesitation before you let go of him. You know he’s still analyzing you, taking in every detail, every little movement you make. You can feel his eyes weighing you, measuring every ounce of your reaction, your breath, and your pulse.

“You reacted almost instinctively,” he concludes, not asking a question or suggesting that he expected anything less from you. “It’s a sign of strength.”

You can’t tell if he’s being serious or just saying that to be polite, and you feel compelled to challenge him on that statement, so you do: “And what would’ve been a sign of weakness then?”

“Not fighting back,” he replies simply, his eyes never leaving yours. “Not putting up a fight.”

Your mind struggles to process his answer. “So, what you’re saying is that someone showing weakness by letting themselves be attacked and possibly killed is worse than someone who reacts and fights back?” you reply, not hiding your disbelief at his words.

His response is almost immediate. “Precisely.”

You almost laugh at the straightforwardness of his reply. His words are as chilling as his demeanor. You want to challenge him, to call him out for his bluntness. But you can’t summon the energy, and your gaze falls away.

“What if someone doesn’t have it in them to fight back?” you ask, curious to see how he’ll respond. “Maybe they’re not capable of it.”

He considers the question for a moment, seeming to weigh a myriad of variables in his mind before giving you an answer. “The instinct for self-preservation is primal, ingrained in every living being. It doesn’t matter if they don’t have the physical ability to fight back; the urge to live overrides everything. Even a child will fight when pushed against the wall. Only the weak would let themselves be slaughtered without at least attempting to survive.”

You feel almost appalled by his words, their harshness sinking in. There’s a hint of sadness in your voice as you ask, “So you believe someone who doesn’t fight back is weak?”

“I don’t believe it, I know it,” he replies with a coldness you’ve never seen in his eyes before, a spark of something dark igniting in his pupils.

He’s serious, there’s no underlying joke or hidden meaning behind his words. You feel a chill run through you, the tiny hairs on your arms standing on end.

Hannibal raises his hand toward your face, dragging his knuckles over the skin of your jaw. He seems almost impressed that you don’t flinch at his touch.

“You’re as strong as they come, my dear,” he murmurs, his voice so low it almost blends with the hum of the wind outside the windows. He leans in, his soft lips pressing against your forehead, and then he leaves the room without another word.

You’re left there alone and stunned, your eyes staring ahead but not really seeing. Your body trembles, but instead of pure fear, there’s a hint of excitement running through your veins. Adrenaline rushes through you, and the feeling of his presence lingers in the air, both comforting and unsettling.

You wait in the conference room for a few minutes, trying to collect yourself, half-hoping that Hannibal will return. You feel like you’ve just been through a whirlwind of emotions, thoughts, and sensations.

But all you’re left with is the memory of his scent lingering in the room and the soft touch of his lips on your skin.

“You look like a man who has suffered an irrevocable loss,” Hannibal’s voice breaks through the quiet melody of the aria playing in the car. The psychiatrist’s choice in music doesn’t surprise Will in the slightest; he’s gotten used to his refined tastes.

“I’m trying to prevent one,” Will counters, gazing over his shoulder at your sleeping form curled up in the backseat.

“You look so peaceful—far more relaxed than he imagined you would be. Hell, just ten minutes ago the thought of you sleeping in the presence of Hannibal Lecter didn’t even cross his mind. It was different from the last time; this time you didn’t have anything to drink or soothe you—nothing. You just let your guard down so easily as if you didn’t see a threat in Hannibal anymore. Will didn’t like that at all.

“Do you think if you save Peter Bernardone, you can save yourself?” Hannibal’s voice breaks the silence, his words carrying weight in the confined space of the car.

“Save myself from what, Dr. Lecter?” Will asks, his eyes staring ahead yet again, but there’s a hint of annoyance in his voice—barely detectable.

“From who you perceive me to be,” the psychiatrist responds, his eyes briefly leaving the road to glance at you through the rearview mirror. Will swears he sees a subtle quirk of the man’s mouth at the sight of you.

“I’m afraid I need to be saved from who you perceive me to be.”

“Many troublesome behaviors strike when you are uncertain of yourself,” Hannibal observes, his focus returning to Will. Perhaps he senses he’s been caught. “Peter Bernardone lies in the same darkness that holds you.”

“No, I’m alone in that darkness,” Will replies without hesitation.

“You’re not alone, Will. You have me and her, standing right beside you through all of this.”

Will’s eyes find your figure again, and he bites the inside of his cheek, lost in thought. “I’m not sure if I want her to be. I don’t want to scare her off.”

“You won’t, Will. She’s not going anywhere, trust me.” Hannibal reaches for the other man and squeezes his arm gently—it’s strangely comforting, though it shouldn’t be.

When you reach Peter’s place, it’s eerily empty. All of the cages have been left open—no animal in sight. You can’t imagine the agony Clark Ingram must have put him through. The sight breaks your heart into a million pieces because you know Peter Bernardone has been pushed to his limit.

The three of you rush toward the stables, ready for the worst. Will is panicking inside and out, his hands trembling and breath coming out in shaky puffs of air, while you and Hannibal remain fairly composed. The contrast in your behaviors is visible from miles away.

As you find Peter, he’s kneeling on the ground beside the body of a dark-coated horse, his work nearly finished. The needle slides through the animal’s skin effortlessly, like gliding through soft butter.

Will is the first to break the silence as he steps toward the kneeling man slowly, with apprehension evident in his movements. “Peter…” he whispers hoarsely, his eyes glued to the sight of the blood-soaked animal before him.

The scene takes a while for your mind to process. The image of that defenseless horse lying lifeless on the stable floor, the smell of blood lingering in the air along with the subtle scent of death. All of you already know what has happened here—it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.

Hannibal catches your gloved hand in his and pulls you closer to himself. You feel his steady presence beside you, a calming force amid the turmoil. His touch is unexpected, yet it speaks volumes.

“Is your social worker in that horse?”

“Yes. I used to have a horrible fear of…” Peter speaks up, his voice trembling slightly but not out of fear. “Of hurting anything.”

You glance at Hannibal to gauge his reaction to the situation, but instead, you find him already looking at you—his eyes filled with a strange admiration. You were right after all; Peter couldn’t hurt a fly unless he was pushed to his limits.

Weirdly enough, this twisted reverence makes you feel just a little bit sick to your stomach. You shuffle forward, seeking proximity to Will and distancing yourself from Hannibal, forcing him to release his grip on your hand.

“But… He helped me get over that. Feels so abnormal.” Peter lets out a pitiful chuckle, tears rolling down his bony cheeks.

“An abnormal reaction to an abnormal situation is normal behavior,” Hannibal concludes, his eyes now cold and distant. You’re unsure whether it’s due to the situation before you or your withdrawal from his affectionate touch.

“I think he deserves to die,” the kneeling man says, his voice filled with helplessness as he looks between the three of you.

“He does,” you mumble, more to yourself than anyone else. You’re relieved when there’s no immediate reaction to your words, but the way Hannibal’s eyes bore into your back tells you he heard.

“But you didn’t deserve to kill him, Peter,” Will says, shaking his head. He crouches beside the man, offering a reassuring hand that rests gently on his back as Peter stares at the dead horse. “I want you to come with me.”

You and Will help the man stand up as his legs shake, threatening to give up beneath him. Only now do you see how much damage this situation has done to the poor guy. He didn’t deserve any of this, but the world has always been a cruel place—evil humans’ second nature.

When Will and Peter head toward the barn door, you and Hannibal linger behind. Will’s uncertain, but not worried glance your way is a testament that something has shifted between the three of you. You just have to figure out what.

“Cruelly poetic,” you say, standing a safe distance away from the man and the corpse.

“He’ll be just fine,” Hannibal murmurs in response to your statement as he watches Peter and Will slowly make their way out of the stable. His gaze is calculatingly cold, the smallest twitch of a muscle in his cheek betraying the emotions underneath—the genuine emotions he rarely lets others see.

“It was necessary,” he adds softly. “He needed to rid himself of that darkness within.”

“Necessary?” you question, your eyes still glued to the two men walking away and not the psychiatrist standing before you.

Hannibal’s eyes move from Peter and Will to you, the corner of his mouth twitching into a slight smirk. You feel like he’s expecting you to say something more, but you can’t think of anything to reply.

“Necessary,” he repeats, and now his eyes find yours with that same calculating stare.

“The way you view life and the world itself... It’s peculiar,” you notice, sticking your hands into the pockets of your coat.

Hannibal’s gaze never leaves yours, and he doesn’t reply at first. There’s a slight smirk playing on the corners of his mouth again, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he’s judging you or if he agrees.

“I find my way of viewing life perfectly reasonable,” he finally says quietly, the words almost whispered. You notice a small twitch of the muscles beneath his eyes, and you wonder if you said the right thing or not.

“You do?” you ask, still searching for his gaze, but you can tell that he’s no longer looking at you. He’s staring at something in the distance instead then heading toward one of the stalls that holds white sheep.

“In life, we need some form of guidance to help us navigate the unknown,” he adds quietly as he pets the woolly animals. They’re not afraid of him. “I’ve found mine. What about you?”

Before you have a chance to respond, you notice Clark Ingram’s bloody fingers, ripping the stitches on the dead horse’s stomach. He tears through them from within, letting the guts spill out of the corpse as he crawls out of it.

Hannibal strolls toward him so casually, his hands dipped into the pockets of his perfectly pressed pants as he looks at the man’s struggle. You join him by his side as an involuntary smirk crawls up your face at the sight of the social worker coughing out blood and stumbling over his own legs. It’s amusing.

The psychiatrist admires your expression, slightly astonished by your reaction. He certainly didn’t expect you to show your true colors so fast. Not a care in the world of how your satisfaction might come across to others.

When Ingram reaches for the bloody hammer, you feel Hannibal’s hands tugging you closer yet again. You let him, leaning on him like an old friend—hip to hip. The warmth of his body is comforting, stirring something insatiable deep inside you.

“Mr. Ingram. Might want to crawl back in there if you know what’s good for you,” Hannibal says casually as he steps aside, taking you with him.

You didn’t even realize that Will had entered the stables. He holds a gun steadily in his hands, pointing it straight at Ingram’s head. Your smirk disappears just as quickly as it appeared, slight shock taking its place on your face.

“Will…” you mumble breathlessly.

You try to reach for him, but Hannibal doesn’t let you step away from him as he tugs you even closer into his side. He presses his lips to your temple and whispers, “He won’t do anything. Don’t worry.”

You’re not sure you believe him. You’ve seen how personal this was to Will, how panic and pure anger took turns in taking over his body since the moment he met Peter. The emotions were controlling him in a way nothing and no one else could.

Ingram drops the sledgehammer to the ground, falling to his knees with arms open and raised like wings—like a blood angel. “Officer… I’m the victim here,” he breathes heavily, but the smile that flashes over his features tells a different story.

“I’m not an officer. I’m Peter’s friend,” Will counters, ignorant to your begging eyes.

Don’t do it, Will. Please, don’t do it.

“Peter’s confused.”

Will feigns hesitation as he lowers the gun just slightly. But the way he grips the weapon tells you easily that he’s far from done with Ingram—his hold doesn’t loosen even for a mere second.

“I’m not.” He raises it back up with an air of palpable confidence. He knows what he wants. He wants to see Clark Ingram begging for life, drowning in the pool of his own blood, choking on it.

You squeeze Hannibal’s fingers so tightly, you’re surprised when he doesn’t even flinch. He just observes Will expressionless.

“Please, Hannibal,” you beg him under your breath, barely audible. You know he hears you, even if he pretends otherwise.

“Pick up the hammer,” Will throws the command, gesturing toward the bloody object that was just thrown to the ground moments ago.

Hannibal glances at your horrified expression, then at Will’s lips pressed tightly in anger. “Will,” he finally interjects with so much stoicism in his voice. His stare alone is insistent enough to make just about anyone listen to him.

But not Will. Will is deaf to Hannibal’s words—especially right now. He doesn’t want to hear him, he doesn’t want to be heard by him. He has a chance to make it right for Peter’s sake, maybe even for his own sake.

“Pick it up,” Will keeps insisting, now, even more agitated. He pops the safety off and puts the pistol almost directly in front of Ingram’s face.

“It won’t feel the same, Will,” Hannibal tries again, stepping toward Will. “It won’t feel like killing me.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“You did the best anyone could do for Peter, but don’t do this for him. If you’re going to do this, Will, you have to do it for yourself.”

You blink slowly in shock before you push Hannibal away from your husband. You take his place and move so close to Will, you can almost feel his shaky breath on your skin.

“Will, please,” you beg softly, “don’t ruin your life. This isn’t going to fix anything.”

“How do you know, huh?” he spats out, his voice mean—meaner than he ever was toward you.

The adrenaline and the rush of the situation are threatening to derail any semblance of calm you’ve managed to keep over the past hour. You grit your teeth and murmur so quietly, in hopes only he can hear you, “Trust me, I know.”

That seems to awaken him temporarily as he looks at you for a second, confusion written all over his face. His eyes are wide open, searching your face for answers—he finds nothing.

Hannibal’s gaze never leaves you two, watching you carefully. Will is so focused on this mystery, he doesn’t even notice when you take the gun out of his hands and point it at Ingram yourself.

“What?” Will asks, his eyes snapping back to you as you push the gun towards Ingram.

“P-please… Please don’t,” the social worker begs as you step closer and press the gun harshly to his left temple.

“Oh, would you like me to be gentler?” you ask, tilting your head. There’s something deeply attractive about the way you hold the gun with unwavering determination, a fierce protectiveness radiating from you. There’s not an ounce of doubt in your expression; you really do look like a cop now.

Will, amidst the chaos of his thoughts, finds himself strangely drawn to you in this moment. His gaze is fixed on your face, and he can’t help but admire the way you look with that gun in your hand. It’s such a contrast to the innocent woman he married—it’s a side of you he never knew existed. There’s a primal allure to your fierce stance, a primal instinct that resonates with him on a level he can’t quite comprehend.

Hannibal notices the expression on Will’s face, and a smirk plays across his lips. He understands the magnetic pull that emanates from you—the allure. He shares the sentiment with Will, recognizing the primal attraction you exude as you hold the gun with a steady hand.

Your complexity intrigues and captivates them, drawing them in despite the inherent danger. They find it both thrilling and unsettling. The darkness hiding in them stirs with your presence, awakening that primitive instinct that’s been lurking in the depths of their souls. You have them completely entranced, and they can’t tear their eyes away.

Will once thought you were quite simple. He learned to read you like a book, then you disappeared and came back after almost ten years with no contact and he still felt like he knew you well enough. But lately? You’ve been unpredictable, complicated and twisted in your own particular way.

All of them hold their breath, the tension thick. The only sound heard is Will’s breathing—heavy and slow.

Ingram’s eyes are glued to yours. Something in the look he gives you makes all the anger and resentment wash away from your mind, and it takes you a moment to remember why you’re standing there with the gun.

You lean over Ingram and whisper something in his ear that no one else other than him can hear. Judging by the puddle of his own piss that pools on the floor, no one else would want to hear it. His eyes bulge with fear and shock, and he can’t make a peep in response.

Then, you pop the safety back on and hit the social worker in the temple with the butt of the gun. He tumbles over to the floor with a thud.

“Temporal region,” you conclude, straightening up. “You hit it with enough force and you can either kill someone or make them pass out.”

“Good to know,” Will mutters, looking at you again with newfound appreciation and respect.

Hannibal is also staring at you, with a newfound sense of admiration. He’s suddenly aware of your own power over others. As a psychiatrist, he’s learned what kind of tactics are used to break people down, and he knows that you used them against Ingram with devastating precision.

“What did you say to him?” he asks quietly, the rage still lurking just beneath the surface.

Hannibal watches as the two of you stare at each other intensely. He can’t help but feel a strange excitement rising inside of him as he watches the two of you square off against each other.

Will’s intensity is almost palpable—there’s a primal instinct within him that craves power, and he’s fascinated by the way you wield yours.

“Nothing that you need to know,” you reply simply, not about to divulge the details of your threat.

When Hannibal sees the intensity in both of your gazes, he can’t help but feel a strange stirring within him. He’s never seen the two of you so intense about anything before.

Will’s eyes narrow as he stares at you. He wants to know what you said, he wants to know the darkest depths of your mind. But he respects that it’s something you don’t want to share and lets it go.Hannibal can’t take his eyes off the two of you. It’s almost like he’s staring at a trainwreck he can’t look away from. He might just be right.

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[remediesremedy]

Bonjour its the maybe French Anon again!

I saw that you write for Hannibal....Kinda new to requesting stufd but...

May I request a scenario/headcanons for Hannibal and Will where they react to their gn s/o being reckless? Like they trip easily, do random dangerous things, they worry the living devil out of Will and Hannibal and overal live life on the edge.

Seperate or poly is up to you!

Thank you for your time in advance regardless if you are gonna do this request or not.

Happy Pride btw! 🏳️‍🌈

- the maybe "french" Anon

hello maybe french anon, sorry for taking so long but you know how writing can be LMAO

i’d like to apologise for my absence, these past couple of weeks it’s like i’ve been just breathing, everything else is too taxing. but i wanted to put out some writing, im always seeing my messages and my inbox, so know that i do see you and hopefully i’ll get to you one of these days <3 much love

Hannibal

i’m thinking that they don’t mean to be reckless, they’re just simply not as aware when walking through door frames or up steps, way too focused on every other little detail apart from how they move. their legs are clunky and balance is always off at the most inconvenient of times.

while most of their injuries had not been severe, there were instances where serious medical was needed just for being reckless and not paying attention.

let’s imagine hannibal is in a therapy session, advising a patient when his phone buzzes. He only has bypassed notifications for his significant other, so instantly his hands itch to check the message. He knows you well enough you wouldn’t alert him to anything if it wasn’t serious. Begrudgingly he continues the session, hoping the text was an accident on your part. except when he checks it, he realises it was far from it.

“won’t be home tonight. i fell down the stairs, in hospital but i’m okay!!”

he tenses up immediately, not appreciating your little text of “i’m okay!!” since you were in literal hospice care. He gets to the hospital and arrives at your room, an emotion similar to horror once he sees the bandages around your head, arms and hands.

Now because this man practiced medicine, he’s fussing over you immediately, checking if the bandages are tight enough, examining your fingers that are fractured and/or broken. he can’t help the tuts that fall from his mouth as he moves to gently cradle the back of your head while pressing his lips softly to the bridge of your nose. “reckless my love, so reckless.” he sighs and places his other hand on your jaw endearingly, caressing his thumb over your bruised flesh. “what am i to do with you?”

after making sure to disinfect the seat next to your bed (yes he brought his own disinfectant), he stays the night, uncomfortably curled into a hospital chair. He falls asleep imagining the beat of your heart against his ear.

when you’re back home and on the journey to healing, Hannibal takes the time to start making his home more safe, for someone who is so reckless. he adds railing to hold onto by the stairs, he makes sure to put down a rug at the bottom of the stairs in case you fall again. He rounds the edges of tables and countertops, he gets you more durable clothes so that they take the impact more if you hurt yourself.

he makes you meals and makes you take antibiotics at the same exact times every day. He declines any patients while you are still vulnerable, you are his exception. He couldn’t care less for many people, but for you, his heart seized every time you even coughed or cried or moaned in pain. He was a sinner and you were his temple of forgiveness, he polished and worshipped you, loving every chip and dent you adorned.

he did although hope one day you would be a little less reckless.

Will Graham

this man is incredibly observant so you being reckless from clumsiness or lack of balance wouldn’t be as common. what i can see happening is that maybe you, will’s significant other is an adrenaline junkie.

for whatever reason, possibly varying from how dangerous Will’s job is or you’re a humble person and never got the chance to do stupid reckless things. it’s almost like your addicted to it, you can see why your partner began to like solving murders and piecing together crimes. It was exciting, being in possible danger yet smart enough to jump out of the water before you got bit.

i can imagine them believing Will when it came to accusing hannibal. So when their significant other ends up in a mental ward, soon to be sentenced to death, they do what they can to prove his innocence.

warnings for graphic description of injury here, i hope you’re not too surprised, it is hannibal after all. You sneaking into hannibal’s home, entirely replacing beverly in this situation, by some insane strokes of luck, you manage to find evidence. He has a secret basement, a strange fridge in the corner piled with cooled meat, your stomach sinks when you realise the amount of people he must have eaten. With a frantic heart and a mind yelling at you that this was for your partner, you trudged forward, finding something that was never meant to be found. Abigail.

now for the sake of the prompt. you don’t end up dead. Hannibal does find and catch you in the basement, his hands wrap around your throat and your vision becomes scarce until you have none at all. By the morning, the damage had been done, you are in a strange bed and Hannibal is peering at you through the doorway. You go to speak but nothing comes out, nothing apart from an airy wheeze.

“i have permanently damaged your voice box.” his voice is cool, his steely eyes bore into tears with a lack of any feeling. “if you try to communicate in any way about what you saw.” he blinked, stepping forward, “i will let Will Graham get sentenced to death, and you’ll follow along with him shortly.”

tears ran down your face freely, a never ending pour, this wasn’t what was meant to happen. not now. not ever. a lost voice and soon to be a lost husband too.

“i will save him.” His words cut through the air sharply. “And you will never tell him.”

for him. your mind yelled a dying symphony, deafening noise diminished to a whisper. you had come all this way for him. you couldn’t fail him now. you wouldn’t.

so we come to the scenario where Will gets out, he fails to hide his grief. Realising he may never hear you speak, or that it may be years until the damage could repair, it had his heart clenching. He knows, he knows without you even saying anything that it is hannibal who has done this to you. his waterline fills with tears as his calloused fingers cup your face ever so delicately, he does not even attempt to turn hannibal in, he simply coddles you, hoping for the day he can hear your voice again. And dealing with the guilt that gnaws at him, pulling him apart until he is bare.

#imagines #x reader #fluff #hannibal #lgbtq #hannibal lector #will graham #alana bloom #anons are open #anons open #hannibal nbc #fanfiction #angst #margot verger