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#hannibal x reader imagine
lovecrime2 · 7 months
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Hannibal Lecter x Reader
summary: you begin therapy with Dr. Lecter, a man who you quickly learn much from. from his intellectuality, to the darkness hidden in the furthest parts of his mind, you become enraptured with him. will he feel the same about you? therapy sessions turn into exchanging books with notes, cooking together, and seeing more of each other in ways you both never thought possible. a love story.
authors note: hello!! this fic will have multiple chapters and i’m so excited to start this! it’s also on a03. and im creating a playlist for this!!
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Chapter I: Prima
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“Dr. Lecter is ready to see you now, miss.” the polite receptionist says, with a smile sent your way. It’s no more than a flash of positivity before she turns back to her paper work, reflected by her thin framed glasses. As her eyes scanned over the work, turning back to frantically look over her desk, presumably searching for something, she gave off an obvious air of worry. Perhaps she was new.
You were too.
Your first day of therapy. Well, your first day of therapy with this new psychiatrist. It wasn’t something you were exactly frantically nervous about- as the poor polite receptionist was. You’d been to therapy before. You were accustomed to the shallow invasion and prodding of the mind. This time, your hope was that this new Dr. Lecter would be unique. Different.
You’d heard many good things about him. Ranging from his written work and studies, to his success with patients. And after the worsening state of your mind and the life you had built around you, you decided that it was time to try again. So far, you weren’t disappointed. The office was classy. Nice chairs were set in the waiting room, where you had sat for some time. There was tasteful art, quiet classical music in the background. Bach, you had guessed. Other than the receptionist, it had emitted an air of class and calmness.
You flashed a smile back at the receptionist, returning the politeness.
“Thank you very much,” you replied.
You weren’t sure if she heard given how diligently she was scanning her desk currently. But it was of no matter, you had been polite, it was the most you could do. You stepped up to a wooden door, unsure if you’d have to knock. Before you could, the door was opened, and Dr. Lecter was revealed to you.
He was handsome. You weren’t one to judge or weigh value off of looks, but you would give him that simple statement. Looks were not the most important thing to you, and you certainly were not meaning it in a romantic way. But he was handsome. The eyes that quickly met yours were brown, maybe with a hint of hazel. His hair was brown as well, it shone in the light from his office. He wore a navy blue plaid suit, giving him an obvious air of seriousness, of class and respect. His lips curled into a smile, and yours followed suit.
“Miss L/N, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” he spoke, his voice was rich and soothing.
“Dr. Lecter, I’ve heard many wonderful things about you and your work. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well.” you replied calmly, mirroring his niceties and charm. He had a quiet suave demeanor. As if on instinct, you both reached your hands out for a handshake. More niceties. This doctor was very formal. You appreciated that. As your hands touched you felt his eyes scan you quickly. Almost like an eagle searching a field for prey. Though, there wasn’t malice behind this look.
“Please, do come in.” he said, leading you into his large room. And what a large room it was.
It had a mostly grey color palette, with the exception of the one wall which was a dark red. To your right was a large wall, with two large red and white striped curtains. To your left, a desk, obviously a professional one. Lamps and books and art decorated the top. Further back to your left was another desk and a chair, but nothing was on this one. Behind that, a fireplace. The room was lined with cabinets and bookshelves, and art (specifically paintings) were anything but scarce. Right in front of you however, were two chairs facing each other. And there was a ladder, on the wall behind them, leading up to another level of the room. This one was lined with books of all shapes and sizes and colors. You took note of the other items in the room. Your eyes scanned from the couch against the back wall, to the couch in front of the windows. The room seemed lightly dull at first, but the more you gazed, the more points of color stood out to you.
After having visually scoured the room, you summarized that the collection of books, European furniture, and art was not simply the doing of the building’s hypothetical interior designer. By his outfit and the look of the room, Dr. Lecter was a man of intellectuality, power, curiosity, and ambition. He was impressive.
“Have a seat, Miss L/N.” he said, gesturing to the two seats in the middle of the room- each sat directly across from the other. Each had small tables next to them, but one had a book (presumably for taking notes on patients) and a box of tissues. You assumed the seat that the book and tissue box adorned table belonged to: was his. So you took the other seat, smoothing the bottom half of your clothing as you sat down. He took a seat across from you, crossing his legs and folding his hands neatly in his lap.
“I have no doubt you know why you’re here.” he said politely. He was direct, eyes still piercing into you. You were afraid to look away. You wanted to maintain the eye contact but at the same time, the socially nervous part of you longed to break it, longed to gaze around the sophisticated room instead of facing his perceptive gaze.
“Yes, Doctor.” you replied, finally working up the courage to break the mural stare and look down as you smiled at him. He returned a brief smile, and nodded once.
“So then, I hope you won’t mind if I list off the reasons you put for requesting my psychiatric assistance which led to us meeting today?” he inquired, taking his notebook from the small table next to him.
“Not at all, go ahead.” you gave him an encouraging nod and he opened his book. As he looked over a page, a realization came to you. You realized how intimate the placing of his chairs was. You mirrored him and put one leg over the other. You wondered if this was a tactic of his to create a sense of connection, equality. Interesting.
“You have emotional regulation issues, accompanied by social anxiety. Past traumas, which I’m sure are accompanied by self-image problems, am I correct?” he asked at the end of his statement.
“Yes,” you said, pausing a moment. There was some more, but this was only the first session. You hated the way it sounded so labeled when it was later out like that, so shallow. Realizing your answer might’ve seemed curt, you rushed to say more. “Yes, that’s all correct.”
He set his book down on the side table and looked at you for a moment. The thought crossed your mind that he might be waiting for you to speak, you were about to say something when he spoke at last.
“How do you feel right now, at this very particular moment, Miss L/N?” he asked you, eyes endlessly boring into you.
“I feel,” you hesitated, trying to come up with the right words. “Comfortable and welcomed. Yet nervous.”
“I’m glad you feel comfortable and welcomed, I try to provide sufficient hospitality for those in my care. Though, tell me, why do you feel nervous?” he asked.
“I’ve just met someone new. Someone who will be peering into my mind, learning the most personal parts of me. It’s an odd thought that a man I met a few minutes ago will come to know my mind so deeply.” you replied, watching Hannibal process your answer. He had a good poker face.
“Are you afraid of what I might uncover in the depths of your mind?” he asked.
“I think everyone’s a little afraid of what can be perceived in the most personal parts of their mentality. We all have only so much we express. To the eye it may seem to show enough, but there’s so much hidden where we store our deepest thoughts.” you replied. You liked the knowledgeable banter.
“Knowing those parts of you is a fundamental aspect to your treatment, as it is to any patient. I am not here to judge, or to exploit. I am here to come to know your being and attempt to help it in a way that is beneficial to your mental well-being.” he replied.
“You make a good point, Doctor.” you replied, flashing him a smile. He returned it, and opened his book.
“Well then, shall we begin?” he asked, his eyes still focused on yours.
“Of course.” you replied.
And so began your session with Hannibal Lecter, your new psychiatrist.
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softieekayy · 2 years
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Slaughtered Lambs
Hannibal x reader
Word count: 1005
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Hannibal knew his wife wasn’t normal. Even when he first met her, under the bunny facade that she put on he knew something darker lay underneath. Even in the mundane things that his wife did Hannibal found a scent of darkness. He looked at her, sitting beside him, engulfed in a huge blanket making her look like a burrito. Sometimes Hannibal wondered if it was his own imagination that tricked him into believing that something much more sinister lay beneath his wife’s facade. Hannibal brushed the thoughts away and instead turned his attention back to his wife, tracing over the tattoo on her back as she told him about the students she had to deal with at school that day. Hannibal only hummed and nodded his head, the thought still lingering in the back of his mind.
“You’re not listening!” she said, whining. Hannibal chuckled at his wife before pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, a signal to continue and she did, ranting on about her class as Hannibal listened to her voice. There was always something about his pretty little wife that intrigued him. Even before they met or he began to court her, Hannibal saw her from afar. Like she was the moon and he was the star in the night sky. She was one in billion while he was a speck of dust compared to her beauty. On countless occasions he and his wife hosted her students with unfortunate home situations in their far too big home.
“You should sleep, my love.” Hannibal told her, petting her hair gently, as if she would break if he did it too hard. She looked up at him and gave him a small smile before kissing his cheek and heading up to bed. Hannibal’s promise that he’d be there soon only made her nod. Of course, he didn’t know his wife prior to courting her, no. She was Will’s friend. A close friend at that as well. His beautiful, smart and cunning wife was someone who knew the reclusive Will Graham inside out. In fact, their meeting was by chance, Will tried everything to keep his lovely friend away from the predatory gaze of Hannibal Lecter. However he failed and instead attended their wedding as best man. Hannibal smiled at the thought of (Y/n) in the white dress she wore on their wedding. The painting of them hung over the fireplace.
Hannibal thought back to the very first time he saw his wife, under the sunshine, in a beautiful great summer dress at Will Graham’s house. She barged in, looking at Hannibal confused before asking him who he was. Hannibal stared back at her confused, appalled by her rude behavior. Will looked between the two of them before sighing and apologizing to Hannibal. He stated that he forgot about the small picnic he had planned with his dear friend.
“Oh you’re the psychiatrist!” She claimed, a moment of realization dawning on her. Hannibal could feel the warmth coming up onto her cheeks. She nodded at him before secretly gesturing to Will to leave. Hannibal offered her a kind smile, one she returned.
Hannibal was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a loud crash from upstairs. His immediate thoughts went to his wife. He scurried up the stairs, worrying if (Y/n) was okay. It wasn’t an impossible thought to think that an ex patient of Hannibal’s would attack her. She was his family, the only one he had left. Thoughts of her death rushed forward into Hannibal’s mind. Finding her laying dead there would certainly break him beyond a point of repair.
“Darling! What happened?” Hannibal shouted out, a sense of urgency in his voice. When he heard nothing, he rushed faster up the stairs, they seemed never ending in this moment. Once he reached the upper floor, Hannibal tentatively opened the door, not prepared to see what could possibly lie on the other side of it.
“Darling?” Hannibal called out. He waited for a moment and when he heard no answer, he went in. The sight in front of him surprised him to say the least.
His pretty little wife, hacking away at the intruder with her letter opener. The man on the floor was bludgeoned beyond recognition. His face caved in, clearly she used the phone to do that. His wife’s hair was all over the place, pieces of hair covered in chunks of blood and skin. The man’s chest was cut open. Hannibal took in the sight before him, a ghost of a smile on his face. He was correct, there was something much darker that lay beneath her facade of normality.
“Dearie?” Hannibal called out to his wife and she looked at him, brushing away some hair from her face while spreading blood on it as well. Hannibal just fell in love with her all over again. She smiled at him.
“Hannibal! I’m so glad you came up.” (Y/n) told him, walking forward to reach him, Hannibal met his wife half way and pulled her into him. Kissing her with such passion. The blood that was once on her hands now on his as well. It was morbid, the two of them, kissing in front of a dead body. Thought it was sweet too. The two of them accept each other for who they are. There was no need for them to hide who they are.
“Let’s clean up, get rid of the body.” Hannibal whispered into his wife’s ear. Glancing at the body once again.
“I know exactly what you could do with the body.” His wife spoke, looking up at Hannibal with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Hannibal looked down at her, smiling as well. She was Bonnie to his Clyde. The moon to his stars, his entire universe. There was not a single thing that Hannibal wouldn’t do for her.
“The things we do for love.” Hannibal said, leaning down to kiss his wife’s forehead. He felt her nod on his chest.
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gemstone-roses · 2 years
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Hi Gem! Can i ask for some headcanons about Hannibal with a reader that doesn't believe she deserves his love? Thank you!!
Yes yes yes oml thankyou for this!!!!!!!
Summary: what it says above
Warnings: self deprecation, issues,an unnamed person made the reader feel she doesn't deserve love, fluff, hannibal is not being nefarious here he's just in love, ooc? Don't know them sorry. 18+ only thanku. Female reader. Hurt/comfort
Note: anyone reading this, you all deserve to be loved ok? be kind to yourselves🖤
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-hannibal asks you to join the team for his weekly dinners
-but you always politely decline
-because your not stupid and you can see that it's more than just an invitation when he asks you.
-it's not that you don't like him, the opposite in fact, you were quite taken with the man, he always made time for you and he always brought you your favourite drink without asking, he just knew when you'd need it.
-so hannibal asks again except this time it's just you on his guest list
-he pulls you to one side in a corner of a corridor at work
-"join me for dinner tonight" and it's not a question this time, it's a statement
-"just me? what about the others? surely you don't just want me?" You whisper that last part but hannibal is observant and his brows furrow.
-"of course I do" hannibal uses his fingers to tilt your chin to look at him
-you avoid his gaze, and he runs a finger down your cheek
-"8pm"? He asks so softly and it makes your heart jump
-"ye,yeah sure" you say and hannibal cups your cheek before you part.
-you fiddle with your sleeve at his door, rocking back and forth on your heels, you were glad he couldn't see you because he'd sure have something to say about your nervous habit
-hannibal has the biggest smile on his face when he answers the door.
-he takes your coat and directs you to sit down
-hannibal takes the seat next to you and takes your hands in his
-"y/n" he says sweetly," look at me darling"
-you look up and hannibal thinks his heart might shatter, because hes hannibal and he knows.
-"I have been trying to ask you out for quite a while now" he chuckles and if you weren't mistaken a slight, and only for a second, shyness creeps over him.
-"I know" you sighed
-"i-i like you hannibal, I do, it's just, well-
-hannibal cups your cheek and he has such a concerned look on his face, not because you may turn him down because he's worried for you.
-"I don't deserve you" you whisper and hannibal feels as though his heart is going to tear through his chest, the thought that you, his y/n, didn't deserve his love was wrenching.
-hannibal places one hand on your shoulder, the other still on your cheek.
-"y/n, please don't ever think, that you are undeserving of love, of my love, you are wonderful and you make my day brighter, you are deserving of my love, you are worthy and you need to know whoever made you feel like this was so wrong, I need you to believe that okay y/n?"
-you look up at him, tears pooling in your eyes
-" hannibal" you whisper and he wraps his arms around your neck as your tears spill
-"it's okay, I've got you darling, I'm here okay," he holds you tight, you can feel how much he means what he says.
He holds you for a while, reassuring you once again and also insisting he'd remind you until the end of time that you are indeed, worthy and deserving of hannibals love.
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multific · 3 months
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Two Sides of The Same Coin
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Hannibal Lecter x Wife!Reader
Warnings: Cannibalism, Smut, Murder +18!!!
Summary: You two were so different, yet still the same. 
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"Mrs Lecter?" 
You turned and smiled at the woman. "Yes?" you asked with a soft tone when in reality you were fuming.
How dare she just come up to you out of the blue?!
How dare she interrupt your perfect evening?!
"Hi, My name is Lucy, and I'm a huge fan of your books." of course she was, your books are brilliant. "I truly believe you are a pioneer in the genre of horror-romance."
"Thank you very much." Of course you were, no one was as good as you.
"I was wondering if you could sign my book please?"
"No problem at all." you smiled so sweetly. Why would she even have the book with her?! You are in a restaurant! You quickly signed her book and she thanked you, with your smile still present you turned back and lifted your glass to your lips.
"No need to be angry, Darling." your husband chuckled as you looked into his eyes.
Reading the other as if you were open books was something that came to both of you naturally. 
"I'm here to celebrate our anniversary. Not at a meet and greet."
"Of course, but you have to indulge them a little. Make them think they are important so they keep coming back. You mastered that one, My Love."
"I believe it was you rubbing off on me. After all, it is 30 years we have known one another."
"And I knew you were trouble from the second I saw you. Cunning, manipulative, narcissistic, egoistic, psychotic. And yet you are stunning and mine." Hannibal lifted his glass as you clicked yours against his.
"Only yours." you smiled at him, this one, was not fake but a genuine one for your husband.
On your way home from the restaurant, it began to rain, you let out a long sigh as Hannibal was driving.
"Rain always makes me nostalgic," you said as he grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it. He stopped at a red light and you looked at him. "When you killed my stepfather... for me. It was also raining."
"He had it coming, he abused you and murdered your mother. I gave him a merciful end. One he didn't deserve."
"He deserved to suffer like I did, but it was not what I meant, Hannibal."
"Please, elaborate then."
"You killed him because he was about to kill me, you became my saviour, but it is not only that. I remember you tore him apart, you kept on cutting and breaking his bones. I should have been disgusted, yet all I could think about was the way your muscles tensed and the grunts you let out."
"So, I turned you on." he spoke as he turned a corner. "I figured, from the way you acted after."
"I never got naked so fast in my life. We made love in that pool of blood in front of the fireplace. I remember we were young and unsure. It was so hot, I could taste blood on your lips." you could recall the way he moved his hips, so amazing, he reached such depths inside you that you weren't even sure existed. 
But he could also recall the way you completely submit to him. You only ever done that to him, no one else gets to have control over you, but him.
"Why are you bringing this up now? It has been a very long time ago."
"Because I want you to do the same tonight. As my gift for our wedding anniversary, I wish to watch you hunt, break and cut and then, I want you to fuck me in the blood."
"We are very similar, My Love." he stopped the car, your eyes never leaving him. "I was thinking almost the same." he smiled as the window behind you rolled down.
"Hi there, I like a three-way, 500 for an hour." the woman behind you talked and you finally turned to look at her.
Prostitutes disgusted you, the way they looked at your husband made your blood boil, but you smiled at her. 
"How about a thousand and I get to watch?" Hannibal replied and you smirked.
The woman agreed and got into the backseat, having no idea what she was in for.
"Happy anniversary."
"I love you." you said as he began to drive again.
---
The next morning you wake up in your bed, under the warm sheets with the smell of food filling the air.
You slowly woke up as the blanket fell down your naked body.
You rolled out of bed, and got dressed in one of Hannibal's shirts before heading to the kitchen.
"Good morning." you said as he had his back turned towards you. You rounded the kitchen island and hugged him.
"Morning. I made your favourite for breakfast. Bacon with eggs."
You looked at the meat sizzling in the pan before looking up at Hannibal as he leaned down to kiss you.
"She truly was a pig." 
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Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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dominantslasherking · 7 months
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Hannibal drooling over how fit and muscled one of his patients (reader) is and just fantasizing about what he’d let reader do to him during one of their sessions.
Hannibal Lecter With Dominant Male S/o
My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+
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Hannibal's eyes tilted towards the seat across from him, His patient with a remarkable physique, one with lean and well-taken care of muscles, but not over the top, just the right amount, (in Hannibal's keen gaze.)
Leaning forward slightly, Hannibal's sole gaze fixated upon you. Strolling off-topic was, unprofessional of Hannibal, and he knew it, but even so, he dare speak, ""One must wonder what sort of discipline it takes to achieve such a body." For Hannibal Lecter to be so loose-lipped with his desires, was something you would never see him do, but it seems you just had that taunting effect on him. "Working out....helps me manage stress." Your husky voice followed up his strange comment. After Hannibal listened to your words, there was a pause, a silence so deep that it made Hannibal's mind wander and fiddle around. His thoughts slipped into a seductive reverie. ----- [Name]'s fingers brush against my arm, sending a thrill down my spine. Not being able to resist the hunger devouring me, I lean in, our lips pressed against one another. My acute senses overriding themselves, on fire in a blaze My hands find their way to the contours of his abs,  I can't help but hear [Name] let out an almost inaudible growl. Slowly I descend downwards, to the floor, on my knees before a glorious being such as you. Opening my mouth ever so slightly to let your cock slip into my mouth-- ---- Hannibal suddenly snapped his head towards you, the line between reality and imagination fading as he yearns for the reader in a way that only no one can fully comprehend.
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whiskehorange · 1 year
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How the Slashers Would Treat Your Stuffed Animals
literally pissing and crying writing this right neow.
Also, Happy New Years Loves! I wish everyone and myself a better 2023, I couldn't ask for better supporters ♥♥
Michael
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Stabs them repeatedly when youre not home until theyre nothing but a shredded mess like an untrained dog and when you confront him he denies it like you've accused him of murder.
Wait-
Jason
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Kisses each one on the forehead goodnight like he's going to be deployed in the morning. Comes home the next day with glass display cases for you to put your favorites/ most valuable in. Even buys them personalized stickers and trinkets to but in and on their box like he's assigned them their own personalities.
Freddy
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Punches each and every one of them in the face as hard as he can like they all own him a grand each right in front of you, laughing until he violently shit himself while you scream at him to leave them alone.
Bubba
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Gives each one their own day to help/follow him around the farm (carrying them around in one arm or aggressively stuffing them down his pants when he needs to use both hands) while actively getting them dirty with blood, dirt, and shit or tearing them in the process of being so unintentionally violent.
Thomas
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Gives them dirty looks when they touch his stuff but actively grows very fond of them and shares all of the family drama and tea with them when they are alone. The dirty looks shift to you when you walk in on a heated tea spill session.
Brahms
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Steals them from you.
Humps them.
Cries and denies taking them if you find them before he's able to "sneakily" put them back where he got them.
Billy
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Refuses to acknowledge them and absolutely refuses to touch them, but buys you more and more whenever he's out by himself. When you leave the room he apologizes for ignoring them all day and adds the new friend to your collection. Has to turn them away when the two of you do the dirty.
Stu
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Gives them all government first, middle, and last names and doesn't forget them either. Also constantly buy you new ones whenever he sees them and issues them names, social security numbers, and jobs before he even gives them to you. Makes them beef with each other.
Norman
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Dresses up and has tea parties with them. When your not home. Writes and prints hand made name tags, name plates, bibs, and beautifully crafted invitations with their own messages for all of them. Spends hours making real treats for said parties.
Hannibal
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Quietly passive aggressively threatens each of them that if hey even think about getting closer to you that he'll destuff them and use their skin as pillow covers, and will do so in front of the others. Insists that he loves them when you ask, shooting them dirty looks after you've turned around.
Bo
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Crop-dusts them if you keep them waist level and will even grab them and purposely rip the fattest, wettest, most gut wrenching, stomach rumbling, room clearing, radioactive, leg lifting fart you've ever heard right in their face and throw it at you, flipping you off as he walks away.
Vincent
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Makes them all their own little wax sculpture the same color as their fur and keeps them on a shelf above where you keep yours. Still doesn't have the heart to tell you that he stole one from you once to sculpt and accidentally dropped it in a vat of wax and had to dump the whole basin because it was ruined. Claims you must have just misplaced it.
Lester
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Makes you homemade, roadkill fur stuffed abominations that smell like the wettest of shit and will set them right next to yours on your bed/shelf. Can never remember the names of your stuffed ones and called them something not even close to what they are, thinking he's 100% right. Pets them unconsciously if he's standing next to them and just mindlessly talking.
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Hannibal obsessed with his patient
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Hannibal never liked to look at patients as anything more than that. But Y/N was a different story. She, unlike a lot of his patients, wasn't a psycho. Sure she had her issues, as did all but she was just looking for someone to talk to. 
He noticed the way she kept eye contact with him as they talked. She wasn’t shaky or nervous. She seemed confident 
Her problems were normal problems for people, nothing too crazy. She admitted to him that she just liked having someone to talk to. 
Though her overthinking was bad. She hated that fact about herself but he assured her that it was normal. She wanted to believe him but in her mind it was too repetitive.
He kept a file on her, as he did every patient. He would constantly look over this file and study her. He even found out where she lived and worked, thus began the stalking and obsessing. 
He would watch her from afar at work as she did her job. Her beauty was unlike anything he’s ever seen and all he wanted to do was hold her and keep her from the fucked up world. 
He would stare at her house for hours as she was inside doing whatever she was doing. It wasn’t until weeks later that he would sneak up to a window and look inside.
Her house was well organized and looked very artsy. He knew that she loved art. They had talked about it multiple times. It was one of the reasons he was so obsessed with her. 
He saw her in the kitchen baking in her underwear and a large shirt. The shirt barely covered her ass but he wasn’t complaining 
He stared at her for a good few minutes as she baked a cake. He wondered if she was making a cake for someone or for herself. 
He found out the next day that it was for him. She wanted to thank him for everything that he’s done for her and that she was going to stop seeing him. 
This saddened him and he wasn’t going to let her leave him. So he decided to make a move. “Since you will no longer be my patient, would it be inappropriate to ask you on a date?” She smiled at him. “Even if it is, I would love to.” She said, 
He decided to make dinner for them and invite her over. Though it had crossed his mind to ask about having dinner at her house, he thought it was too early for that. 
Y/N looked stunning. Hannibal had told her to dress fancy and she did just that. He was taken away by her beauty and even stuttered a few times and Hannibal doesn’t usually do that. 
“You look amazing, my dear.” The name made her blush and stutter as well. “As do you, Hannibal.” She finally got to call him by his first name and he liked the way it sounded. 
Dinner made her moan. It was so good and better than she imagined. She knew that he was a cook but didn’t know the extremes. 
“This is the best food I've ever tasted.” She told him. He was pleased that she liked it but he knew what his perfect meal would be. 
She was on the kitchen table with her dress pooling around her waist as he licked her wet folds. He hummed as he tasted her juices that tasted better than any food he’s ever had. His finger ran up her clit causing her to moan. He loved that sound and wanted to hear more of it. 
Her moans echoed through his kitchen as he ate her pussy. One of her hands laced in his hair as the other gripped the table for dear life. His tongue felt amazing. 
He decided to add a finger as he pleasured her. His finger collected her wetness before entering her. She let out a whimper as his large finger invaded her insides. 
He pumped his finger as he licked her clit. Her pleasure was heightened by his movements and very intense. Her hips bucked and humped his face and finger as she was desperate for her orgasm. 
When she came it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Her jaw dropped and her eyes rolled back. Loud moans of his name left her mouth as he let her ride out the orgasm. 
His eyes never left her face as he stared in awe. Amazed by her beauty. She let out a breath and laughed. She looked down at him as his lips left her clit. “You’re very good at that.” She said out of breath. 
“When I like something I devour it.” He said to her and wink. She let out a breath that she was holding. This man would be the death of her and vise versa
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fluffy-little-demon · 3 months
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Hannibal Lecter x Female Reader
Warnings: baby trapping, manipulative behaviour, obsessive behaviour
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Imagine you're one of Hannibal's patients, but you're close because he's obsessed with you, and so Hannibal constantly invites you for dinner and almost always ends up in bed staying the night. Until one day, when you find out you're pregnant.
You're stressing out cause there's no way you can look after a baby. You can barely look after yourself. You don't have the money for baby supplies, medical bills, or any of it. The only reason you could afford therapy in the first place was because it was court ordered, and they paid the biggest part of it.
Hannibal steps forward and places a hand on your cheek, gently pressing a kiss on your forehead to stop your rambling. He tells you that you don't need to worry about anything he will pay for everything and suggests that you move into his house so he can help and make sure you're ok. He's so excited to be having this baby with you.
You realise that the only reason you've been taking care of yourself is because you've been going to his house for every meal. You pretty much already live here already, so why not make it official.
I am begging someone to turn this into a full fic please 🙏 I would love you forever 🩷
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specialagentlokitty · 4 months
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Hannibal lector x teen!reader - ensure you’re safe
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Hi 👋🏻 Saw you wanted to try to write for Hannibal characters and for me the easiest way to start writing for Hannibal was to write like a therapy session with Hannibal. So thought maybe you could write teen!reader or just regular reader at a therapy session with Hannibal, of course there’s no worries if you don’t write it, just thought it might help you out <3 I will probably request something with Will later as he’s my fave character but can’t come up with anything right now - @panic-in-the-multiverse 💜
TW: mentions of abusive parents
Sitting outside in the waiting room to your new therapists office, you sighed heavily, pulling your headphones back over your head.
You weren’t sure what you wanted to do, a large part of you wanted to just leave, but you had to be there, the officer sitting next to you was there to make sure of that.
But just because you had to be there didn’t mean you had to say anything, or actually take part, you simply just had to attend the session.
You watched as a bit of paper was held out in front of your face, and you sighed, turning your gaze to the man sitting next to you, pulling your headphones back down.
“What?” You snapped.
“Don’t be rude, keep your headphones down, and please try take part.”
“I don’t see why I have to, I didn’t do shit wrong.”
“Well, apparently everybody else sees differently kiddo, so please try.”
You stuck your middle finger up at him, pulling your headphones back over your head to carry on blocking out of the world.
You weren’t paying all that much attention, but you did notice when the officer next to you stood up and you turned your head to look at him in uninterest as he spoke to the man who came out of the office.
Then he turned back to you and pushed your headphones down.
“You’re up kid, I’ll wait out here to take you home but then you’re on your own to make sure you come to these sessions, got it? Twice a week.”
“Get lost Daniels.”
“Alright, but remember no wondering off because we’ll know.”
You just scowled and he grinned a little at you, holding up your bag for you to take as you stood up.
“This is Doctor Hannibal Lector, he’s going to be your new therapist, be polite, respectful, and remember to keep your temper.” Daniels warned.
You said nothing as he left, and you turned to the therapist.
“Hello (Y/N), would you like to come in?”
You set your bag down and sat down back in the chair you were waiting in.
Hannibal smiled slightly, and closing his office door, walking over to sit next to you, sitting forward slightly, clasping his hands together.
He took a moment to study you, how uninterested you were, the fact you wouldn’t even look at him, you were dressed in ripped jeans, well worn trainers, a hoodie.
But it was your face that he was drawn to, the stitches on your eyebrow, a little bit of dried blood just at the side, clearly you had ripped one or two earlier that day. What looked to be a broken nose, split lip, and from the brief glance of your knuckles he had gotten they were bruised and blooded.
He made a few mental notes before he finally spoke first, seeing you weren’t going to initiate a conversation with him.
“Would you like to start by telling me a little bit about yourself?” He asked.
“No.”
“Well, how about we start with why you’re here. Why have you been referred to me (Y/N)?”
“You have my file. You know why.” You grumbled.
“Yes, I am aware this is court mandated therapy. I would like to know why you think you were sentenced to therapy, what are your thoughts about this?”
You didn’t say anything, you just slumped down in the chair, pulling your hood up so he wasn’t able to look at you.
“You have no interest in being here.” He noted.
“Nope.”
“I see, yet you’re staying for what reason? What happens if you walk out of those doors before our session has ended?”
You didn’t say anything, and he just sat there silently for the rest of the session with you.
Every session went the same, you would sit outside, refuse to come in or answer his questions, then the pair of you would sit outside the office while he read or made notes and you listened to your music.
It went that way for nearly two months, and Hannibal followed the same routine this time around, opening his office door and you looked up at him.
He paused, taking in your bloodied hoodie and nose.
“(Y/N), what happened?” He asked.
You got up, and he stepped aside, holding the door for you as you walked in for the first time since you began to see him.
Hannibal carefully closed the door, watched as you walked around until you stopped by the ladders and you sat down on them.
“There are more comfortable places to sit if you would prefer.”
“I’m fine.”
He hummed a little bit, sitting in a chair as he looked over at you.
You were one to keep your distance, so he wanted to respect that boundary and stayed where he was on the other side of the room.
“Are you? In the two months that we have known one another you have never stepped foot inside my office until now. Today is the only day you have come in looking as if you were in a fight just before arriving.”
You didn’t say anything.
“I have read your file numerous times, you’re known for your rather unpleasant temper, you have been arrest on multiple occasions for assault, your most previous charge is listed as aggregated assault.”
“So what?” You snapped slightly.
“There is no need to get angry, I am not here to judge you. I am simply here to assist you, find out why you are so angry all the time and what led to your anger.”
You pulled the sleeve of your hoodie down, pressing it to your nose, wiping some of the blood on it.
Hannibal got up, walking over he took the handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to you, making sure he kept his distance.
“I don’t need your help…” you grumbled.
“Well, blood can be rather hard to wash out of clothing, you may ruin your jacket if you keep that up.”
“It’s a hoodie.”
Hannibal chuckled slightly.
“Very well, you will ruin your hoodie.”
“Like I said, don’t need your help.”
Hannibal sighed, laying the handkerchief down on the floor just a few steps away from your and he clasped his hands behind his back.
“You are a deeply mistrusting person, I understand that. But perhaps if you are willing to give someone a chance you will see that some people can be trusted.”
You glanced up at him, then quickly averted your gaze, going back to looking at the floor instead, but he knew you were watching him.
You had your head lowered, but just barely high enough to look at his shoes.
“Who hurt you?” He pressed carefully.
“What makes you think I didn’t start it?”
“The lack of bruises or scrapes on your hands, your clothes are rather dirty, defensive wounds I would say. Am I correct?”
You shrugged a little bit.
“Maybe I just like it, getting into fights and all.”
“I have a reason that perhaps you don’t enjoy it.”
You looked up at Hannibal, getting up and you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jeans.
“Maybe I do. Maybe it fun, beating the crap out of someone until their blood is all over their face, watching as they beg me to stop, to leave them alone. Maybe I like the fear in the eyes.” You taunted.
“Is that so?”
Hannibal watched as you studied him, getting a read on him, trying size him up to see if you could take him on in a fight or not.
“Do you want to hurt me (Y/N)?”
You didn’t say anything.
“Who do you really want to hurt? When you get into all these fights you claim to enjoy, who do you think off when you’re knocking them to the ground and beating them within an inch of their lives?”
“No one.”
“Anybody with that much rage thinks of somebody, targets somebody.”
You just scoffed, making your way past him to head to the door.
You left without another wait, having reached the exact time limit of the session and Hannibal walked over to his desk, opening his book.
He wrote down what you had told him, and sat reflecting on it.
Clearly you were an angry person, you were a teenager with a lot of anger and hatred, but not at the world.
It was directed at one single person, because if your anger was random he had no doubt in his mind you would’ve already tried to attack him, but you didn’t.
You simply just refused to acknowledge whatever he said, you didn’t attempt to hurt him.
Intimidate? Yes. But not hurt.
It was a few days when your next session came around, and you walked into the office once more, taking a seat in your usual spot, this time a little more slowly.
Hannibal frowned, but carried on his session.
And he began to pick up on every time you came into the sessions either hurt, or fresh out of a fight.
And the timeframe between these seemed to get smaller and smaller, up until the point today.
Hannibal opened his door and you looked worse than ever as you pushed past him, dripping some blood on to the floor, limping into the middle of the room.
You took a few shoe breaths and he closed the door, making his way over to you.
“(Y/N), can you hear me?”
You slowly turned to him, nodding your head, stumbling a couple of steps.
“Tell me what happened? Who did this to you?”
You shook your head, slowly sitting down on the floor so you wouldn’t have to get blood on any of his furniture.
“Stay here, I will call the police, and for an ambulance.”
“No!”
Hannibal turned at your outburst, and you looked at him, rage with slight fear mixed in your eyes.
“Don’t you dare, don’t… don’t call anyone…” you warned.
“Alright.”
Hannibal set his phone back down and he walked over, kneeling down in front of you, resting an arm on his leg.
“Tell me what happened.”
You took a small breath, leaning back on one of your hands.
“I fucked up… real bad doctor Lector… like.. like real bad…”
“I need you to tell me what happened.” He pressed carefully.
You sighed a little bit.
“He got drunk again, got pissed, I talked back. He swung for me so I fought back, hit him with a chair. She got pissed at me, pushed me down a few stairs.”
“Who is the ‘he’ you keep referring to?”
“My dad.”
Hannibal nodded his head.
“I assume the ‘she’ would then be your mother?”
“Bingo, right on the money doc. I can see why you’re a therapist.”
Hannibal noticed how you deflected the serious topic with unserious remarks or a slightly snappy tone towards him.
“I see, you are aware that I have to call the police, and I strongly recommend you allow me to take you to the hospital. A fall down the stairs is not something to take so lightly.”
“You call police and I’m gone.”
“Why?”
You stayed quiet, shifting a little with pain and he sighed.
“You have strong issues with authority, but unfortunately I have to call them, I have a duty of care to ensure your well-being. Which means if I suspect that someone or yourself will cause you harm I have to report it. I can request to be with you every step of the way if that makes you comfortable.”
You pushed yourself up with a grunt of pain, stumbling a few steps backwards and Hannibal quickly stood up, placing his hand on your back to keep you stable.
You moved away quickly, and made your way to the door.
“At least allow me to take you to the hospital.” Hannibal said.
He turned around to get his keys from his desk and when he turned around you were gone.
He sighed, picking up his phone in order to call for your parole officer.
He had had the number his his phone since the first session, but he had never had to call the officer about you.
Not until now.
He quickly relayed on the fact that you had come into his officer severely injured.
You hadn’t made it far when Daniels picked you up, despite the fact you tried running you couldn’t exactly outrun a police officer in your injured state and you were taken to the hospital.
The ran some tests, stitched up your cuts, and placed you in a room while you awaited the results of your tests.
“So, want to tell me what happened?” Daniels asked.
“Go fuck yourself.” You growled.
“Hey, I want to help kid. But I can’t if I don’t know what happened to you.”
“You know what happened you prick, you all know what happened but you won’t do fuck all about it!”
“Calm down right now.”
“Or what?!”
You ripped the IV out of your arm, and you stood up, nearly falling to the side but you didn’t falter.
Daniels stood up as well.
“You can’t do shit.”
“Look, doctor lector is on his way, and they’re taking your parents in for questioning right now but you need to stay here.”
“Like fuck do I have to stay here. You can’t hold me for shit.”
You barged past him, throwing down the tray as he tried to follow you.
It would stall him for a few minutes while nurses and doctors quickly tried to gathering everything up so nobody would get hurt.
You left the hospital, making your way to your usual hideout spot when you didn’t want to go home.
It wasn’t the best, an old and abandoned construction site, but it was full of more than enough hiding places, and you went to your favourite one.
Sitting in the concrete pipe, you rested your back on a blanket you had in there, closing your eyes as you breathed through the discomfort.
Your phone was ringing endlessly, and you turned it off, getting bored of hearing the sound.
Though the silence was helpful when it came to hearing the creaking of the large metal gate being opened and closed.
“(Y/N), I know you’re here, come out so we can talk!” Hannibal called.
You stayed quiet.
You knew he would eventually and it only took a few minutes for him to appear at the entrance to your hiding spot.
He offered you a gentle smile.
“You need to go back to the hospital.”
“No.”
“Your parents are currently in custody, you’re safe. Nobody here is going to hurt you, nobody there will hurt you either.”
You scoffed.
“You really believe that? Give it a day or two, they’ll be back out.”
“Yet you always go back, why?”
“Because I have to, court order. Every. Single. Time.”
Hannibal sighed, and he offered you a reassuring smile.
“Come with me, I assure you that no more harm will come to you.”
You didn’t believe him, you simply just left the other end of the pipe you were sat in and Hannibal got up to follow you.
“You have internal bleeding, if you do not go back to the hospital you’ll die within hours.”
“Great, makes life easier for everybody. Gives me a way out.”
“Do you wish to die?”
You paused, giving the man a chance to walk over to you and stand in front of you.
“Do you wish to die (Y/N)?”
“No.”
“So, allow me to take you back to the hospital then. We will let the surgeons fix whatever inside you is bleeding, then when you wake up I will be right there waiting.”
“Yeah, and they’ll be there too.”
“You have my word, you parents will not be allowed in the room.”
You scoffed.
“Yeah, I’ll take my chances bleeding internally.”
“What if I can prove to you that they won’t be allowed in the same room as you?”
This seemed to gain your interested, and he gestured to the front of the construction sight.
“Do you see that man over there?”
You nodded.
“His name is Jack Crawford, he works for the FBI. He has read over your case file, he along with another agent will be outside your room the entire time you are there in recovery while we sort a safer place for you.”
Hannibal held his hand out to you.
“Do you trust me, even just a little bit?”
You looked at him, and you slowly nodded your head.
Hannibal smiled, walking over and he reached out, wrapping his arm around you, letting you hold his other arm to steady yourself while you both walked.
“They will never hurt you again (Y/N).”
Hannibal helped you into his car and got into the drivers seat, adjusting the mirror, wiping the little bit of blood that was on it so you wouldn’t see it
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voxmortuus · 1 year
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Yooo! Lol I’m here to make a small request maybe just to see how you think Hannibal would handle a situation lol like literally just a Drabble would be fine 🫶🏼
Alright, what would he say if his S/O (male pref) asked him “Would you still love me if I was a worm?” Bonus points if his S/O asks stupid questions like this all the time so he’s used to it, LMAO poor Hannibal
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►PAIRING: Hannibal X Male!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Hannibal ►WORDS: 1.6k ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: See Above. ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: No warnings | I may be missing some, but you get a general idea, so please proceed with caution if there is anything in there that is overly triggering please let me know politely and I will make sure it is added to the list. ►NOTE: Hannibal and Hannibal Character requests are closed. All other requests are open. Sorry if this isn't what you expected, or had envisioned yourself, I apologize. But I hope you enjoyed my vision. ►DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa
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"No. I gotta know! If I was a worm, would you still love me?" you ask.
Shaking his head with a chuckle he thinks a moment. "But what if I was a bird, I'd eat the worm."
"That's not the question nor a valid answer."
"Oh but it is, what if I was the bird that ate the worm."
"You're no fun." you pout a moment.
He chuckles and he watches you a moment. Putting some thought into it he tilts his head. "Well I'd make sure you'd have a nice little compost pile... only the best foods."
"That's better. So, how do you think you'd handle me if I was a puddle of putty?" you ask.
He tilts his head and shakes it again with a slight chuckle. "Where are these questions coming from?" he asked you.
With a rather proud smile. "They came from my brain place. Now. Back to the putty question."
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rose-lunaire · 1 year
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Hi!! How you think Hannibal and Will (separate) in a situation where the reader is a nurse and for some reason she finds with them and both falls madly in love with her? Like they follow her, admired her and simply adore her??
brace yourselves, ‘cause it’s gonna be a long one! thank you so much for this idea, i had a great time writing this, enjoy <3
pairing: wiill graham x reader, hannibal lecter x reader
warnings: stalking themes, a lot of blood and inaccurate medical descriptions
(Y/B/T - your blood type)
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hannibal lecter
it was a really nasty case, bodies carelessly abandoned in a forest, like a beast haven’t finished feasting on them
by the time hannibal and will arrived, it had already turned into a bloodbath
the culprit, ambushed in his agony, shot at the fbis weakest link: the two consultants
the older man suffered a concussion and wills leg was repeatedly pierced by bullets
it was jack who rushed the to the hospital, knowing damn well it would take hours for any ambulance to arrive
hannibal kept insisting he’s fine, but the policeman was having none of it
he collapsed on the hospital floor
the man woke up to the rhythmic sounds of the operational room: monotone beeping, a clock idly signaling its presence
“you gave us quite the scare, doctor lecter”
a soft timbre brought his closer to consciousness, but an excruciating headache soon followed
torn between slumber and awareness, he groaned quietly
“doctor lecter? can you hear me, doctor lecter?”
the voice soothed his aching body, poured life and yearning into his soul
he squinted his eyes, as from a blur of white light came to life an angel
hair of raphael’s venus, rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes worthy of rubens’s paintbrush, steady and powerful pose of velasquez’s infants
they were perfect like doryphoros or artemis of versailles, sculpted by apollonius himself
the stoic warmth radiating from their eyes couldn’t compare to debussy’s finest works
hannibal felt the sudden urge to take this light with him and never let go
to protect and worship it like gods of ancient times
his killings are not in vain, they are a token of adoration, a promise for a better world
for them
for so the angel wouldn’t have to suffer existing in between such impure souls
he’s always on the lookout for any people in their environment who might have foul intentions
he’s eternally great full to have met them and shows his feelings in subtle ways, like leaving home-cooked meals for them, a note full of gratitude always attached to the gift
he once used his connections to move them to a different department, so that they wouldn’t have to work so hard
they’re his muse, his god(ddes) and he’s just a lowly apostle
he wouldn’t dare bring them into his world, it was too cruel, too dangerous for such a radiant creature
but believe me, he’s always there, a loyal knight guarding their safety and happiness
will graham
he was losing a lot of blood
one of the bullets came through his leg, cutting through his aorta and no amount of pressure could stop the bleeding
his mind was getting fuzzy, but still stuck in painful awareness
he remembered having been sat on a bed, the sting of a needle and helplessness in the voice of a surgeon
“we don’t have enough type y/b/t blood for the operation”
as the anesthesia was wearing out, will felt an unfamiliar presence next to him
calm and unsuspecting, a nurse was sleeping in the corner of the operation room
he finds himself attached to a blood transfusion set
will rested his head in his hands, tired and almost ashamed
the nurse had their sleeve harshly tugged on the forearm with a welt straining their delicate skin
he perceives himself as repulsive and unworthy, yet they gave up their own blood without any hesitation
he’s deeply moved by their dedication
he can’t seem to draw his eyes away
“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to stare” - he panicked
“don’t worry about it”
they were graceful even in exhaustion, it send chills down wills spine
maybe it was a crease they a smile painted on their face or the eyes scrunched in kindness and warmth, he didn’t know but in that moment he fell in love
he would ask a million questions about the equipment and the surgery, then their daily life and work
it brought him peace and reassurance and the conversation seemed to flow naturally for hours
after he left the hospital, he often called them
a confusing wound? he calls. a drug found on the scene? he calls. hannibal is hosting a dinner party? he calls every time
his heart is desperate for closure and they provided it, never asking questions, just being there for him
there was one time when a dog got severe diarrhea and vomited a lot, and will was scared it may be parvo or other dangerous dog disease
he called almost immediately, for help and comfort of his favorite person
after this incident he became paranoid when they weren’t around, so he does everything in his power to keep them at arms length
will means no harm, but he simply can’t imagine his life without them
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whoreforhorror · 2 years
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Slasher with an S/O who self-harms
Included: Billy Loomis, Hannibal Lecter, Rusty Nail, Michael Myers, Bo Sinclair
Tw: Mentions of self-harm and blood
Billy Loomis
Billy had been out with Stu as Ghostface quite late into the night. He figured you would be asleep. Still, on the off chance that you weren’t, he made his way to your house. Realistically, even if you were asleep, he was just going to join you in bed. 
He got to your window to find you were up, sitting on the edge of your bed with your back to the window. He was happy to see you up because he wanted to spend time with you, but it wasn’t really usual for you to be up quite this late. He snuck in quietly, planning to try and give you a scare, and got about halfway to you before he noticed a few more details he had missed.
You were incredibly quiet, the silence of the room feeling a bit suffocating at the moment. Your head was hung low and you had a blade in one of your hands. Your arms were bleeding. You were… bleeding? What the fuck?
Billy closes in on you, achieving his original goal of giving you quite the jump scare in the process. He didn’t care about that right now. Before you really know what was happening, you’re in the bathroom, sitting while he pulls out medical supplies. Billy was silent and methodical as he cleaned each wound, making sure they weren’t too deep before wrapping your arms in gauze and medical wrap. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t look at you.
He’d sit you back down on the edge of your bed, standing in front of you in silence. Even considering he didn’t really like to talk that much, he was too quiet. It put you on edge and made you worry. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or worried, and his face wasn’t giving anything away.
You avoided eye contact for what felt like an eternity before you came to the conclusion that you’d have to be the first to talk. “Billy-“ You couldn’t get anything out before he dropped to his knees in front of you and hugged your waist, burying his head in your stomach. You could hear him sob quietly into your shirt, and his hold on you was tight.
He cried for a while before he could gather himself enough to talk. Even then, all he said was “Why?”. He’d kill anyone responsible for making you feel this way. Point blank. No Stu, no Ghostface, no teasing or foreplay. It would be him, them, and his knife, and it would be messy. If it wasn’t that simple, he’d listen to everything you told him, anything you’d be willing to share. When you finished, he’d stand up to hold you properly and to talk in your ear. He couldn’t bring himself to talk anywhere above a whisper at the moment. 
“I can’t lose you. You’re all I have. I love you so much-“ It was the first time he had told you that and you couldn’t ignore the sting created by having him say it in this moment rather than during something happy and romantic. “I need you here with me. Anything you want I’ll help you with. I’ll do anything to make you feel better, just say the word.”
Eventually, he’d get you to lay down with him and he’d hold you tight as you both slept. From now on, he’d keep a closer eye on you and anything your body language would tell him about how you’re feeling. Sometimes, when he’s really tired and you’re asleep, he’ll run his thumb over your scars and think to himself about how he’d missed the signs and what he can do to keep this from happening ever again.
Hannibal Lecter
The dinner party really wasn’t supposed to start like this. Hannibal had bought you an outfit he’d seen while he was out, and it had reminded him of you. It was a sweet thought, and you couldn’t deny it looked amazing, but there was one issue. It had short sleeves. You’d been able to get away with wearing long sleeves up until this point because of the weather, which was cold, but each day was just a bit warmer and it was to the point where it was too warm to add a jacket to an outfit. So here you were, looking at the outfit laying neatly on the bed, tears in your eyes as you thought about your arms and how Hannibal was going to react. Would he think you’re weak? Imperfect? Valueless? Would he think you were trying to damage his image?
Hannibal, who had been around for nearly twenty minutes, was growing concerned about how long it was taking you to get around. He knocked on the door, calling out to you and asking if everything was alright. You responded, saying everything was ok, but he could hear the distress and shakiness in your voice as you spoke. Of course, he could. He thought about his options for a second before announcing that he was coming into the room. You didn’t want him to but there was no way to keep him out. You knew that.
“What’s wrong, my love? Do you not like the outfit?” He knew it wasn’t that, but he’d rather you tell him what was really wrong rather than him having to figure it out himself. “I can take it back if it’s not to your liking.” You’d have to choose between acting as if you hated the outfit he’d gifted you or telling him about your self-harming. You hated sounding ungrateful, especially when Hannibal was always so gracious. You had to tell him.
And when you did, he goes quiet for a moment. He’d known something was wrong but he certainly hadn’t been expecting that. He hadn’t noticed. How hadn’t he noticed? He’s panicking internally but refuses to let it show at the moment. For the first time in a very, very long time, he’s feeling fear, sadness, confusion, and anger toward himself.
He’ll do whatever is needed to make you feel comfortable. If you want to cover them, he’ll figure it out. If you don’t want to, he’s more than supportive and will shut down anyone who would dare say something about them.
Once dinner is done and the guests have left, he’ll question you. In that moment, you don’t have Hannibal, you have Dr. Lecter. He will want to know how long you’ve been struggling with mental health, how long you’ve been self-harming, what triggers you, how can he help, etc.
He’ll pay close attention to you after he knows. You and sharp objects, that is. He won’t lock away knives or anything of that sort. He knows that will only make you feel worse, but he’ll make sure to remember exactly where sharp objects are and how they’re positioned. He’s going to know if you do it again. Once he knows, it’s impossible to hide it. Point blank. Still, he’ll be gentle about it. He doesn’t think you’re wrong or damaged; he just thinks you need a bit of structure and help.
Rest assured, you’ll get the best care with Hannibal. He’s a psychiatrist after all, and one of the best at that. However, he might use this as a way to subtly manipulate you into sharing his… unique food tastes. After all, why harm yourself when you can take all of your emotions out on others?
Rusty Nail
Rusty is gone A LOT, that’s no secret. But, that means you’re left with a lot of time to think, and thinking leads you to, well, the predicament you’re in now. You didn’t think he was supposed to be home for another day or two, but he’s early. He’s early and your arm is leaking fresh blood. If that wasn’t bad enough, you also hadn’t heard him (you were too wrapped up in your thoughts) until he was opening the bedroom door.
“Darlin’?” He’s walking towards you slowly, like you’re an animal that could lash out if he moves too quickly. Gently, he takes your hands and holds up your arms to give himself a better view. He wipes his thumb across a drop of blood to convince himself that this is real, and not a sort of twisted hallucination. “Darlin’.” He says it softly, this time.
He’s incredibly gentle as he guides you to the bathroom to tend to your wounds, quiet too. You’re sat on the side of the tub and he’s kneeling before you. As he finishes, he lets out a deep sigh, looking up at you before circling his arms around your waist and burring his face into your stomach. His hold is tight, and this lasts for quite a while.
When Rusty gathers himself enough to look at you again, he’ll pick you up and carry you to bed. You don’t feel like arguing. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know he was right, you were tired and you weren’t going to fight him on it. Even if you wanted to, the shattered look in his eyes acted as a foolproof deterrent.
As you nap, he cooks a meal for you. He wakes you up after a while to eat and draws you a bath after you’re done. He doesn’t say much. He doesn’t know what to say. For every moment he can, he’s going to take care of you like your royalty. Gradually, as the tension loosens, he’ll talk more and so will you but there is still a heavy sadness and tension in the air around him.
He’ll ask you quietly in the morning, as you two laze in bed, why you do it. Whether or not you tell him, he respects your choice. If you do tell him, he’ll want to talk through the issue. If it’s a person, he’s already thinking up ways to draw as much suffering from him as possible. If you don’t want to tell him, that’s ok. He’ll hold you close and whisper things about how much he loves you and what he would do to prove it.
When he’s on the road, he’ll call you every afternoon. Talk to him about anything, he just wants to hear you speak and get insight on your day. He wants to make sure you’re ok, as well. 
He’d take you for a drive if you wanted. He absolutely loves having you in his passenger seat, riding alongside him in his rig. It makes him feel happy and possessive. One night, when he’s not on the road, he’d stock his truck with snacks, drinks, and blankets. He’d drive you out a field and stargaze with you late into the night, possibly until you fell asleep. If that happened, he’d carry you back into the truck so he could drive home.
Michael Myers
Micheal knew something had been off for a while, but assumed you’d come to him when you were ready to share. He’d grown impatient though, and decided to watch you while you thought he was away, to see if he could figure out what was wrong.
He’d caught you in the act and was shocked. Well, he felt as much shock as he was capable of feeling, which is far more than he is used to but not like a person might normally. Still, the pang of emotion was something he didn’t feel often. He’d suspected something was up but he hadn’t suspected this. Not in the slightest.
Of course, he’d seen people self-harm before. He had his time in the hospital to thank for that. He remembered how the doctors would react. Restraints, heavy surveillance, taking away anything even slightly dangerous, frequent and consistent check-ins, and medication, loads of medications. He also remembered how much the patients hated it. He had a few hours before you expected him home, which meant he had a few hours to think.
When Michael came home, you greeted him as you always did. You were cheery and excitable. It put a weird taste in his mouth and a feeling like an itch he couldn’t scratch. It didn’t sit right with him and made him very unhappy.
He was still for a moment longer than normal, catching your attention and causing you to ask if something was wrong. He responds by pointing to your arm, confusing you. He grabs your wrist and pulls up one of your sleeves, and you freeze, looking at him in the eye holes of his mask in shock. 
Michael would give you the materials needed to take care of your wounds and watch as you patch yourself up. He’d teach you if you didn’t know how. After, he’d lay on the couch with you and watch movies until you fell asleep. Only after you’re asleep would he leave a kiss on each arm. A promise to you and himself that he’d do what he needed to make you happy.
Michael will be around more after he finds out. Not in an overbearing way, but he realized that he doesn’t spend as much time as he should with you. He’ll bring home little gifts that he thinks you’ll like and will make you masks that he thinks fit your personality. You might even sucker him into cleaning the house or cooking from time to time.
Bo Sinclair
It was WAY too hot for long sleeves in Louisiana. It was the middle of summer, and mid-day at that. Bo thought you’d knock more than a few screws loose to be dressed for late fall at this time of year. And to be outside on top of that?
Bo had asked you to come to the church to help with some minor repairs, and you’d been more than happy to come along. Problem was, you’d had a relapse the night before and your arms were covered in fresh wounds. You were practically dying in the summer heat, but you’d risk the heatstroke to avoid Bo finding out. 
“What’re you doin’ with them sleeves? You look like you’re fixin’ to go out in winter, not the Louisiana summer.” You hadn’t really thought of a cover story, which was coming back to bite you in the ass. You’d decided to say you just weren’t feeling too great, causing Bo to look back at you. 
“What’s wrong sugar?” You’d responded and said you felt cold and you were tired, and you could tell he wasn’t sure if he really believed you. He put a hand on your forehead as you looked up at him. “Well, you’re burnin’ up but that’s probably because of them sleeves. Why don’t ya take it off? Certainly wouldn’t mind the view to give me a lil’ work encouragement.” 
You turned him down and suggested that you’d go get some lemonade, to which he agreed was a good idea and wanted to join you. He was at a good stopping place anyway. While you were washing up to serve the lemonade, you’d had to push up your sleeves a bit to avoid getting them wet. You hadn’t accounted for Bo coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you. 
He was about to say something when he saw them. When you felt him tense up, you tensed up too. You froze and waited for him to say something, to do anything that gave you an indication of how to respond. After a few seconds, he took his arms away from your waist and grabbed your shoulders gently, turning you around to face him.
“You know… I’ve got some scars too…” It was the first time you’d seen the scars on his wrist. It was the only thing he could think to do in the moment. You started fretting over him, asking what happened, if he was alright, who did this, and other things along that line in a continuous stream of worry. He had to interrupt you and raise his voice to get you to quiet down. He agreed that he would tell you what happened if you told him why you’d harmed yourself. 
In the end, you both wound up having an hours-long conversation about both of your histories and troubles. You both talked until you passed out, holding each other close and feeling leagues closer to him than you had before. It was a rare, bittersweet moment to bond and it would result in a permanent, noticeable shift in the interactions between you two.
After the conversation, you two held each other closer. You were softer when speaking to each other, and arguments often got resolved much quicker and with fewer tears than there used to be. You both understood each other more than anyone else had, and it shows.
Bo would do the best he could to make you feel comfortable showing your arms, no matter what stage of healing they were in. Bo would even show his scars more if it helped, granted that there was no chance of visitors. If tourists said anything about it, they wouldn’t get to be a sculpture. Vincent wouldn’t be able to reconstruct them well enough if he tried. No, they’d wind up in the pit with Lester’s roadkill. 
Bo would kiss your scars in intimate moments if you’d let him. It’s his way of showing that he loves every part of you, regardless of how much you like it yourself. 
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softieekayy · 7 months
Text
Intertwined
Hannibal Lecter x reader
Word count: 1.8k
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Hannibal Lecter was a stoic man with stoic impressions. He did his job, he left and he came home. Not many people knew much about him and the one who did, Will Graham, was a mystery of his own.
Having said that, there was one person who knew his entire soul, for their souls were entangled with each other. Hannibal’s wife. She knew him and his antics like the back of her hand. It was to be expected, especially since they’ve known eachother since Hannibal was a young man in medical school and her a young teenage girl with a crush on him. He never entertained it through, no, he always taught her things that she found useful later in life. It was fate who decided that they would spend the rest of their lives together.
Hannibal would do anything for his wife, she was his sun, moon and entire universe. He worshiped the floor she walked on. Not to mention that the young Mrs. Lecter was a beautiful woman with shiny hair and satin like skin. She was ethereal and people often thought she was an angel posing as one of their kind simply because of her beauty. Her beauty didn’t end physically, not at all. The young woman was a saint. She wouldn't hurt a fly, in fact, she would nourish it and then set it free.
“Why is he so hard to cut up!” (Y/n) whined to her husband, stomping down her expensively clad feet in a tantrum, blood seeping into her satin, champagne coloured shirt, staining the material. In one hand she held a butcher's knife with blood coating it, the body beneath her indicating the frustration she very obviously felt.
“Well, darling” Hannibal grunted, “cutting people with knives like this isn’t easy.”
“Yeah I see that now, my love.” She muttered back, reverting to her former position on her knees and hacking away at Mr. Zaine Lammer’s arm. A disgusting man he was, objectifying Hannibal’s wife to him. The dinner the couple held was for charity. Just because they killed people didn’t mean they were monsters. (Y/n) still loved and cared about children and would never harm them, they can be tuned and molded into anything you’d like. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for adults.
Hannibal looked over to his, completely entranced by the pure and utter annoyance on her face. She knew Hannibal killed, it wasn’t a secret to her. She’s helped with the crimes. However, (Y/n) preferred the killing and setting up the scene part, she did not like the hacking away at the body. No, she left that to her dear husband to do. Not that Hannibal minded. He’d prefer for her to not get touched by the blood of filth.
“Ugh. I give up. I can’t do this anymore.” The young woman stated, throwing her hands up in exasperation. Hannibal laughed at his wife’s reaction, making her glare at him.
“Don’t laugh at me Hans!” She told him, a small smile threatening to break out on her face. Hannibal looked at her, not saying anything but rather just observing. His wife was the most beautiful lady to have ever walked the earth. An angel that was put amongst sinners. He put down his knife and walked over to her, putting one arm around her waist and tugging her closer to his body, her hands resting on his chest.
“Hi.” She whispered softly with an equally soft smile gracing her face.
“Hello.” Hannibal whispered back, leaning down to steal a quick kiss from his wife.
He remembers meeting her like yesterday. She was a young little thing, younger than him, about 8-9 years or so. Yet when Hannibal saw her, she was the most beautiful person he’d ever set eyes on. The young woman had just been coming into the book store, soaked from the rain outside, hair sticking to her face and yet she still had a smile painted on her dark red lips. Hannibal watched her as she greeted the older man who ran the shop warmly before shedding her coat to let it hang. She turned around and caught Hannibal staring yet she gave him a smile too. Her quick movements reminded Hannibal of a cat, yet when he looked into her eyes for a brief moment, he saw his own reflection.
“I’ve never seen you around here.” She tells him, running her fingers across the spines of books before pulling one out. It was an old book with a forest green cover.
“I don’t live here, I’m just here to visit my aunt.” Hannibal didn’t tell her that Lady Murasaki was long dead and that he was just here to visit her grave. His aunt was a crucial part of his life, she shaped him into the man he is today.
The young woman nodded in acknowledgment, her hair moving along with it.
“Well it’s nice to meet you..” She trailed off, waiting for Hannibal to introduce himself.
“Hannibal lecter.” The older man introduced himself, shaking her hand gently. It was as soft as she looked. In return (Y/n) introduced herself. The two grabbed their books and spoke about everything and anything. Hannibal learned that she went to medical school here and frequented this bookstore often, hence her close relationship with the owner. Hannibal told her of Lady Murasaki and how he’s in charge of keeping her home. Before they knew it, time had passed and it was the dead of night, Hannibal walked her home and from there it took them to now. A married couple.
“We should really clean up.” (Y/n) grimaced, pulling away from Hannibal’s embrace to look at the mess on the floor. Hannibal agreed with her, the blood won’t come out easily if it’s been too long.
Hannibal pulled away from the embrace and went back to chopping up the man while his wife began to mix the solutions for cleaning.
Within another hour or so they were done. (Y/n) stood at the entrance of the basement with her hands over her hips, heaving lightly from all the scrubbing she did. Her once neatly done hair was now falling out of its place messily. Hannibal disposed of the meat in the freezer before walking back to his wife and kissing her on the side of her head, gently leading her upstairs with his hand on the small of her back.
“With all that leftover meat, we ought to have another dinner party. There’s only so much we alone can eat.” (Y/n) grumbled to Hannibal as they both reached the first floor of their home. She walked into the kitchen and took out two wine glasses before pouring her and Hannibal some.
“I agree.” Hannibal nodded. “We should invite Will, Jack Crawford and Alana Bloom for dinner these days.” He finished, taking a sip of his wine, watching his wife’s stare on him harden.
“You know I don’t like her yet you keep inviting her. Don’t be surprised if she ends up as our dinner one day.” (Y/n) warns him, anger seeping through her voice. The young brunette clearly had a crush on Hannibal, everyone around her could tell. Hannibal used that crush to manipulate her. His wife on the other hand, wasn't too fond of another woman making heart eyes at someone who belonged to her.
“You worry for no reason, even in death my heart will belong to you. Alana Bloom can’t match your intelligence or grace.” Hannibal comforted his wife, running his hand up and down her arm and she tucked herself closer into him. The younger woman hummed in response, taking Hannibal’s hand in her own and playing around with his fingers.
“I still don’t like her. That smug little face she makes towards me whenever you talk to her. All I can think about at that moment is how nice my hair pin would look coated in her blood.” (Y/n)‘s hand clutched tightly around Hannibal’s as she thought about Alana bloom. The brunette woman never failed to enrage Hannibal’s wife.
“She’s not worth you pretty little thoughts.” The older man told his wife, dragging his nose from the back of her neck to the side of her head, planting a living kiss. (Y/n) smiled slyly, turning her body to face him fully.
“You think me wanting to feel Alana’s blood on my hands is pretty?” She asked him, still smiling and toying with his hair. Hannibal latched his arm around her waist and pulled her atop him.
“I think everything you do is pretty.” He tells her and she hums. The two sit in silence for a while, sipping on their wine. No need for mindless chatter, being by each other's side was all that they needed. Hannibal knew that his wife would never betray him under any circumstances and she knew that Hannibal would never do anything to harm her. However they both knew that to drag attention away from one another, they may need to harm each other. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, it ripped Hannibal’s heart apart to even think about hurting his pretty little wife. His pretty wife with doe eyes. His pretty wife with a sinister smile. The two were a match in every sense possible, both hunters who enjoyed the art of killing. They were skilled and under Hannibal’s expertise and care, his young wife went from an amateur to someone just as talented as Hannibal.
“It's getting late, moonshine.” Hannibal uttered into her hair, nosing her hairline. She was wrapped around him, like a cat. Hannibal thought that if reincarnation was real then his wife must’ve been a cat in her past life.
“Yes, honey, I know. However there are no plans set in place for tomorrow.” She grinned, turning around and crawling onto him fully now. Hannibal held his wife by the waist, grinning.
“Are you suggesting we stay up late tonight Mrs. Lecter?” He asked her, caressing her hair. The two smiled like a lovesick teen age couple. So in love that it made others sick. Jack Crawford was one of them, he’d known the famous Mrs. Lecter since he’d met Hannibal.
“Yes I am. In fact, I’m suggesting that we go out for some ice cream.” She tells him, running a finger down the buttons of his shirt. Hannibal gasps in faux shock.
“Scandalous. You’re so very scandalous.” He tells her, shaking his head in disappointment. They both know it’s just an act anyway, Hannibal would bend over back wards for her. (Y/n) giggled before getting up and grabbing her coat. She waited for Hannibal to join her giddily, like a child who had far too much sugar.
“Shall we go?” Hannibal asked her, offering his arm for her to hold. (Y/n)’s hand softly tucked itself into the crook of Hannibal's arm as they headed out. Into the dark of the night, like wolves hunting for prey.
Tagging my lovelies: @jake-g-lockley @shawty-writes-a-little <3
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gemstone-roses · 2 years
Note
Hii!
I hope you're having a nice day!
Could I get Hannibal/Hannigram comforting reader after they have a breakdown.
I just found out I lost my internship because the company doesn't like people with anxiety so kinda pissed. I just need some fictional men comfort but if you don't like it please ignore!
Thank you!
Take care!
~🦊
Hi! my day was shitty but it ended better than it began so!your so kind! I'm sorry that happened to you,some people really fucking suck. hope some hannibal comfort can help🥺
Warnings: breakdown, crying, use of darling, one mention of dessert sorry if you don't like dessert
Summary: what it says above,comfort, hurt/comfort, the reason for the breakdown is not specified in the fic, gender neutral , hannibal being comforting as fuck.
A:N- please do not interact if you are a minor! 18+ only.
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"Good morning" hannibal smiles at you, your wondering down the corridor, head pointed down at the floor. You don't even look up. Hannibal notices instantly, he's concerned, its not like you to ignore him, in fact you've chastised him before for not saying good morning to you when he forgot once, which just worries him even more.
Slamming the door to your workspace, you take a shuddering breath, bracing yourself on the desk. There's a knock at your door.
"Y/n?" Hannibals voice is soft and it makes you waver
He gets no response but he can hear your ragged breathing through the door.
The door clicks open and he approaches you slowly.
"Y/n", he says again, leaning one hand on the same desk and the other on your waist.
You look up at him, tears streaming down your face and hannibal instantly opens his arms.
He holds you so tight and you'd think it would impede your ability to take in a breath even more but it does the opposite, you make no move to pull away as the man holds you while you sob.
"Hey, your alright, I've got you darling it's okay" hannibals words, whilst they provide you with an immense amount of comfort, just make you sob even more.
"Oh darling" hannibal gives you a squeeze. He can feel your body shake with sobs.
"I need you to take a breath for me, can you do that?" He starts rubbing your back as he speaks.
You try and do as he asks, it's just a small one, comes out all shaky,but it's enough for now.
"that's it" he encourages. You hold onto him for dear life as he soothes you.
When your sobs die down to just sniffles, you pull away slightly, hannibals face is full of concern and you can see it that he wants to soothe you.
Hannibal moves his hand to your face, swiping his thumb over a tear.
"I got you, okay?" He assures you
You give a little nod, your lip starts to quiver again and hannibal pulls you straight back into him.
"Come here darling, its okay,let's get out of here hmm? Let me take care of you?, you can tell me all about it if you want?" He asks
You nod, wiping the tears from your face before reaching out for his hand. Hannibal keeps your hand in his as he escorts you to his car.
"Now, what's your favourite dessert?, we can get it to go?" He smiles, starting the car.
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shegatsby · 11 months
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Hi, how are you? Please don't judge or kill me! Please, I don't condone this kind of behaviour. So, I have a request about Mads Mikkelsen's character Le Chiffre from Casino Royale.
So Female!Reader's father won against Le Chiffre his money at the casino.
To take revenge, Le Chiffre kidnaps Reader to get revenge on her father. Warning:Kidnapping, Non-con.
Please don't kill me, I don't condone this behaviour.!!! <3<3<3
A/N; Thank you for this request I sure had fun writing it ;) It got longer than i expected but hey, who cares. love you all.
Warnings; Kidnapping, smut, minors get the fuck out or else!
The only reason why you followed your father to Montenegro was to unwind from stressful year at the university. He said he had some business to attend to and he offered you a most generous holiday which you didn’t hesitate to indulge in. First few days were relaxing, you joined a yoga class, got several massages, swam in the sea and also at the pool, however, tonight would be the night to switch things up.
Your father said he was going to gamble at a casino, the hotel you stayed in was infamous for its illegal businesses such as gambling. Your father said it could be fun to have you there with him, he liked to show off his intelligent and siren looking daughter and to distract the gamblers.
Your dress was long and red, the fabric was satin, so smooth on your skin, the dress had a slash on your left side, up to your thigh. Hair let loose, red nails and red lips.. you were the walking femme fatal that night.
You entered the room with your dad, a soft 20s music was playing at the casino, yellow lights and dark green chairs, couches made the place look vintage, there were bodyguards at each door.
As you walked together you saw him
He was among his ‘’friends’’ or people he did business with. He was covered in black, which made him look manly and dangerous. His silver watch was shining under the yellow lights, you noticed that he had no ring, could be single. He was laughing at one of their jokes when he lifted his gaze and he saw you entering. His expression changed in a second, the way he looked at you up and down didn’t go unnoticed. His left eye twitched and he looked away, from afar you could see there was something in his left eye, looked like a nasty scar. It made you curious about him, because the way he dressed and held himself showed you that he had men to do the dirty work but maybe, time to time he liked to get his hands dirty… why were you so interested in a man who seemed older than you all of a sudden? You were here to enjoy your holiday and do a trick with our dad. Ever since you hit the age 18 your dad started to take you to casinos when he wanted to gamble, and you came up with this thing where you flirt with other gamblers to distract them, it worked usually because of weak nature of men.
Your father guided you to the bar to get drinks, there was still 20 minutes till the game started so he ordered you something and you gracefully took your place to observe the environment. ‘’Excuse me love, I have to use the restroom.’’ Your father announced and left, you were enjoying your drink and listening to the soft tunes when you felt a presence next to you. You looked up to see your father but you were surprised. That man with the scar was sitting next to you, ‘’Hello.’’ He said looking at you, he wasn’t shy showing his scar, it was infact nasty but you didn’t shy away, you directly looked into his eyes, you innocently smiled, for some strange reason you liked the scar, it suited him perfectly. His plump lips formed into a dangerous smile, ‘’Allow me to accompany you while you wait for your partner.’’ His tone was questioning, he ordered two drinks, ‘’He is my father. Not so smooth are you Mister?’’ he chuckled at your boldness, he extended his hand, ‘’Le Chiffre. And you are?’’
You accepted his hand, he had a strong grip, ‘’Ms. Y/N Y/L/N.’’ he gave a small peck on your hand, predator disguised as a gentleman. ‘’I assume you are here to accompany your father?’’ you took a sip from your cocktail, ‘’Correct. I didn’t want to leave him alone, plus, I’m his lucky charm.’’
‘’Good girl.’’ His eyes never left yours, you wondered if he could see from his scarred eye, of course you didn’t ask. With his comment you could feel heat rising up to your cheeks, thankfully your father came.
‘’Le Chiffre?’’ your father asked in a not so kind matter, ‘’Mr. Y/L/N,’’ he greeted your father with the same icy cold courtesy. ‘’Long time no see.’’ Your father said, ‘’Looking forward to see you at the game with your,’’ he looked at you, ‘’lucky charm.’’ His hand went to his pocket to get his silver inhaler and bid you goodbye. You didn’t understand the tension that they had, maybe it was because of the competitive business life.
Soon the game started, your father’s instructions were simple, wait for Le Chiffre to make a bold move and distract him, it was an old game of yours.
You were like a hawk watching the table from afar, your fingertips circling around the cocktail glass, you saw that it was his turn to make a move and you bolted to your feet. Your heels were making powerful sounds on the marble floor and you saw him looking up as he was shaking the dice in his big palm, your eyes never left his dangerous ones, he wasn’t ready the dice unintentionally fell from his palm, you saw the pure anger written on his perfectly shaped face as you got on the elevator you could hear your father’s victorious laugh.
You didn’t join your father, who was celebrating the big cash he just won. You were in your hotel room, just out of the shower and moisturized. You couldn’t help but think of Le Chiffre, was that money important to him? Did your father and he had a history? You needed a spa night. Since it was late you didn’t mind leaving your hotel room only in a long robe and nothing else, the halls were quiet, no workers around which was strange. You didn’t mind, the spa was at the top floor so you pressed the button and waited, after few floors two men who were dressed in black joined. When you reached the top floor something felt fishy with the situation but you couldn’t turn back to your room now so you decided to stick with the plan. Your steps were quick on the marble floors, you finally saw someone who was attending the spa area and you informed them, they smiled and showed you to one of the cabins. You were alone, thankfully. You just sat and closed your eyes to relax, the steam helped you calm your mind, well, it was too calming and soon you were asleep.
You slowly started to feel your body again, your eyelids felt so heavy but a sudden panic made you open your eyes, you weren’t at the spa, you were at a bedroom.. that wasn’t yours.
As you lifted your body with the help of your shaky hands you heard a voice which was familiar, ‘’Slow down, you are still recovering.’’ Someone, a man, sat on the edge of the bed and you could feel his hand on your small back. You looked up to see him and it was Le Chiffre, but why was he here?
‘’Wh-‘’ your throat was dry, ‘’Here.’’ He offered you a glass of water, you were hesitant but thirst clenched your being so you drank with his help. ‘’Good girl.’’ He said when you drank the whole glass.
You were coming to your senses so you pushed yourself away from him, your back resting on the headboard of the bed, ‘’You might be wondering why you’re here-‘’
‘’Might?!’’ you replied. Cleary not amused, ‘’As you can remember your father won a significant amount of money, thanks to your help, I want that money back.’’
‘’So you kidnapped me?!’’ you could feel anger boiling, ‘’Smart one aren’t you. Until that money is returned you are my-‘’
‘’Hostage.’’ You sarcastically said, ‘’guest.’’ He answered, ‘’It had been 5 hours since you were taken You must be hungry. Come.’’ He extended his hand but you refused, as you quickly stood up you got dizzy so he grabbed your waist, his scent filled your nostrils. He smelled good.
You couldn’t protest because it was hard for you to walk so with his help you left the room. You weren’t at the hotel anymore, it was a mansion. Was this his house? You walked down the stairs, all you could see was an astonishing house with large paintings and furniture. He took you to the dining room where breakfast waiting for you both. Your stomach growled, he chuckled and helped you to your chair. ‘’Why can’t you just win the money back? There is another game tonight.’’ You asked, looking at the breakfast. You had to keep your calm in order to survive because you didn’t know what was he capable of. ‘’I don’t have for another game and I don’t like taking chances.’’
You laughed sarcastically, ‘’Says the man who was gambling last night.’’ You drank the orange juice, it was tasty. ‘’I was going to win. Until I got distracted by a certain beauty.’’ His comment made you blush so you didn’t look at him, ‘’Is it scary to look at me love?’’ he sounded hurt, ‘’I understand if it is the case.’’ You didn’t care about the scar so you looked straight at him, ‘’There we go.’’ He smiled, ‘’Now, finish your breakfast, I have plans for us.’’
You didn’t know his plan but you had to play along, you finished your breakfast as he commanded so, it was delicious anyways and you were almost sure there was no poison. He looked at your finished plate, you could see a small smile forming on his plump lips, they distracted you, ‘’Well done.’’ You noticed that he kept giving you praises, which was your weak spot but he didn’t know.. or did he?
He stood up, extended his big hand, ‘’Shall we?’’
You thought he was going to torture you, lock in his basement, feed you to his dogs but instead he took you on a stream in the mountains, he said he liked to come here, swim and make plans for his business, he said the water calms his nerves and keeps him connected to mother nature. Before you left his mansion a maid came to give you a bag with everything you need, a bathing suit, towels, sunglasses, sunscreen, you name it. Le Chiffre didn’t need changing, he just took off his shirt and jumped into the stream, you thought he wanted to give you privacy so you quickly changed into your bathing suit, it was red, a color he choose but you had no idea. Once you changed you placed one of the towels on the grass and sat, started to put sunscreen on your legs, arms, ‘’Need a hand?’’ you heard his serpent voice, tempting and you looked up to see him, on the edge, his broad arms supporting his body by leaning into the ground, ‘’Yes, thank you.’’ Two can play the games, you thought. The way he jumped up to the shore, his arms and legs flexing did something to your core. You had to exhale the breath you were holding, without a word he sat behind you, put some sunscreen in his palm and started to rub your back. You literally held onto grass under your hands, his calloused hands trying to be gentle but you could sense the certain urge to go deep, and rough.
‘’When I first saw you at the casino,’’ he began, ‘’I thought to myself, I must have this girl somehow.’’ He wasn’t shy at all, ‘’I guess Universe finally decided to give me a break and let me have one good thing.’’ It was obvious that his life was difficult, and seeing you as something good  made you blush.
You turned to face him, his eyes were hoping for something, something tangible and you decided.
You leaned in to give him a kiss which he gladly took, his lips were so full and soft, his big hands went to caress your face, as the kiss got heated you followed his movements, he made you lay on your back, your legs invited him by opening. When he bit your neck you moaned, he pulled away, ‘’Did I hurt you?’’ he was out of breath, the genuine curiosity could be seen in his eyes and you almost cried.  ‘’No, keep going.’’
He kissed you again, you could feel his hard member between your legs, there was no going back.
His hand went to dip into your wetness and he moaned into your mouth, he pulled away to give kisses to your face and neck, ‘’just how I imagined.’’ He said as he started to rub your clit, your arched your back, his sweet torture was driving you mad. ‘’Do you want this?’’ he looked to see any sort of discomfort on your face but all he found was flushed cheeks, lust written in your eyes, mouth slightly parted. ‘’Yes,’’ you said, ‘’please’’ he grinned.
His fingers pushed the fabric away, he quickly got rid of his short and gave himself few pumps, you couldn’t help but notice how big he was.
He rubbed his tip into your folds, making you whimper, ‘’pleasee’’ you said whining, ‘’Please what, lucky charm?’’ you couldn’t help but moan deeply, ‘’Please fuck me, ever since I saw you last night I wanted you to bend me over and fuck me raw.’’ Well, it wasn’t a lie, he had a strange aura to him.
Your confession startled him at first, Le Chiffre, even though he didn’t want to admit, he had insecurities thanks to the scar on his face, ladies usually went for his colleges, not him. Hearing you openly admit to want him turned him on, he was planning on to be gentle with you but after what you said, that wasn’t an option anymore, he had to have you and keep you all to himself.
Your legs wrapped around him and he inserted himself with one thrust, you screamed in pain at first because it had been a while, ‘’Look at me.’’ He was deep inside you, you could feel his pubic hair tickling your skin. You meet his eyes and he started to move, you knew after this session you would have sore thighs, but you didn’t want him to stop. He stretched you out perfectly, ‘’Open your mouth.’’ And you did, he spit in your mouth, bit your lower lip, gave you multiple hickies.
Your fingers locking in his hair, you’ve never heard a man moan like him before, it made you clench around him again and again. You wetness and the sounds you make was heaven for him, of course he had multiple partners before but they all seemed fake, artificial, on the other hand you were screaming, tears in the corner of your eyes, you looked perfect. He sucked on your clothed nipples, gave them slaps, you were close and each sucking and slapping made you see stars, you liked his roughness. ‘’Come on my cock princess, let me feel it, come on.’’ He knew you were close and his praises pushed you over the edge, he followed behind.
His head fell to the crook of your neck, both of you were breathing heavily, ‘’I can’t let you go, not after this.’’
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horror102 · 1 year
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Night time massacre!
Slashers x Asylum therapist GN! Reader
TW: Midnight Angst, Heavy Angst. Emotional Hurt! Manipulation, Lying,
(Slashers: Gabriel May-Hannibal Lecter-Norman Bates-Brahms Heelshire-Jacob Goodnight)
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Your plan was to get the slashers to trust you, that was what you were instructed by your peers and boss. And it was a hefty deal of money. And being a little middle class or below it, you needed the money. And when you were done you left.
Norman bates
His mother kept telling him it was a trick, utter buffoonery! But he didn’t listen, he insisted it was love. And that you felt the same way!
The way you would bat your eyelashes at him. How you’d lightly wake him up from his solitude.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off you practically sticking his head through the bars as your feet tapped the cement floor of the halls.
He’d watch how you step, notice a pattern in your walks, grow shy when you’d pay attention and bring up what he said in far later notices.
One day he’d even take it up to himself to make you a mattress flower, ripping his mattress up with raw strength and shaping it into a flower with his teeth and peeling cement off the walls.
He planned to give it too you Friday, so you won’t have to come back the next day and think about his proposal while you were on your two day break.
But Friday never came, you weren’t there. He thought, maybe you were sick. Oh my! Maybe you were sick! You probably caught the flu. Maybe it’s pneumonia, god you could die! No, no, no, no, his precious angel couldn’t die before he confessed.
He didn’t sleep, he didn’t eat, he didn’t even listen too his mother. He thrashed out on his own. Growing agitated after days passed. Monday, where were you? Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. And on and on. He couldn’t fathom the fact that you were gone, Completely.
Hannibal Lecter (series)
He knew you didn’t care for him, he acted in such a job himself. He knew, oh god he knew, but he was so lonely he couldn’t help but enjoy the company.
He loved everything about it, from the clacking of your shoes as you stepped in the room to the way your eyebrows tilt when you were confused.
How you’d laugh at his stubble seriousness or jokes that were “so unfunny that they were actually funny because it wasn’t!” You stated.
Mesmerizing his favorite color, his phrases, adapting some of his manipulating habits.
He began to fantasize, creating this delusional realities of intimacy of you two in his mind while he slept uncontrollably.
He began to obsess, Thursday he mesmerized your schedule, trying to learn about you. But then Friday came and you weren’t there.
It was hard to keep up with time in the asylum so he just assumed you were off on Friday’s
Until you were off on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and back to Thursday.
Maybe you got hurt, best case scenario rather then the image in his head of you getting murdered by one of his enemies.
The image of you being eaten and cut up like he did to his victims, a piece of your jewelry hung up as decoration.
His mind became distraught, keeping his usually calm demeanor but eye bags were clearly shown. Agitation in his voice and hatred as he talked to the new therapist.
Gabriel May
For a while he didn’t trust you, he didn’t believe someone would try to understand a “parasite.”
He was utterly surprised when you called him Gabriel instead of “IT” when you called him by his normal He/him pronouns instead of “a parasite.”
He grew a little agitated at the fact that you made your way into his little heart, giving him more time then his sister to talk to him.
Letting him take turns to draw with his sister as if he was still a little kid.
Once you talked to his sister longer than you’d normally would, he’d show verbal aggression. Going occasionally silent, or making tiny whispers to his sister, threats of any kind.
He began blocking out his sister, so while you thought you were talking to her you were actually talking to him.
Learning what you’d tell her while she would usually block him out due to her command.
He’d wake up early so he could take control.
Make her hallucinate so she’d be scared and have a fearful nap.
Make her have extra long nightmares, just so she could complain about them to you which made him angry.
Watch as your eyebrows furrowed when you would talk to him and scold him about what he did.
But something that made his heart flutter is when you always forgave him.
Thursday he did it again, he terrorized her. And you scolded him and Friday he was supposedly going to give you his apology for attention.
But you didn’t come, maybe you were sick, it could only be a cold, right?
Maybe you left him, just like his mother, just like how his sister tried to block him out, just like how the doctors tried to take him out. Just like everyone else in his life.
No! You couldn’t have you promised said you would come back the next day.
Why would you lie? You had no reason too. You wouldn’t just abandon him, would you?
He started to listen in when his sister would talk to the guards. Hearing something he wish he didn’t.
No that can’t be true, they left.
Brahms Heelshire
He quickly became attached. As soon as you walked on the door, watching you eye the cracked up doll and him. Watching you observe the two.
Asking him normal questions and not pondering him to leave the doll.
Asking him how the doll was, did it chip again? You could help him fix it.
Those words were like music to his ears, as you fixed it, he was eyeing you down. Watching how your hands delicately took the doll from him as if it was a real boy.
Calling them both Brahms.
Saying hello and goodbye to both of them, complimenting both of them, acknowledging them. Seeing them as two in one. Instead of seeing the doll as some parasite.
Eventually Brahms behavior became more erratic more irrational. He was openly jealous, he always asked about other patients and what you’d talk about with them.
Angered how’d you actually talk about them in such a delightful manner.
Angered at how you had mostly male patients.
One day he took it to far, as you went to leave him stating “I’m off to another patient, have a nice rest of your day Brahms.” He flipped, the chains on his hands almost breaking as he tried to flip the table over it shaking as he used all his might eventually going so in the spam of little minutes.
He was punished, he wasn’t allowed to see you until Friday. So Monday-through-Friday he didn’t see you. He was driven crazy when you didn’t show up at the end of the week.
He began to get angry. Immediately he assumed you left him. How could you possibly love a murderous monster!? So foolish of him believing someone could actually love him.
You left him, without saying goodbye. Just like his mother and father and all the tiny bit off friends he had before he was locked away as a boy.
But he was going to promise you. “He’d be good, he will”
Jacob Goodnight
He didn’t see the evil in your eyes, you looked uncanny, you looked sweet.
You respected his beliefs and you never told him yours out of respect. You respected his mother.
You’d give him compliments about his different color eyes, about his height, about his cheeky smile.
You’d acknowledge how much he knew about his religion, you’d pray with him, even if it wasn’t something you believed in or was.
You’d compliment his Christ, you’d learn and admire.
Religious talks soon became random chats, you’d talk about random things Like God and the color of the sky.
You’d talk about your favorite colors, and help him figure out his.
Soon enough to your surprise he became obedient. Randomly, he’d do anything you’d say. Bow to your every wishes.
“Lift your left hand up and stick your pinky down.” You’d test the guards theory, and to your surprise he did exactly what you commanded.
He was obsessed. From the way you smelled to the way your hair was. Your eyes, your nose, your pointy ears.
He wasn’t exactly too bright to know your schedule. But he knew exactly what time you’d come.
He’d count, he’d create a rhythm. Just to know and remember.
One day after all that practice he finally learned his favorite color, and he was planning to tell you but it never came.
And days passed, and immediately he was angered. He’d attack everyone who tried to talk to him about you in a disrespectful way.
He’d pray for you to come back, and when that didn’t work he’d pray for you to be safe.
He couldn’t let you disappear without gods protection.
He’d repeat, “Dear Heavenly Father, Dear God. Please protect them, and if you wish bring them back to me.”
Disclaimer! I do not mean to be disrespectful of his religion I am a Christian myself! I just wanted to make it opt for people with other religions! <3
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