#Will Graham x reader x Hannibal Lecter

[coryosbaby]

I am BEGGING you to write about hannigram x innocent fem reader. mayyyybee featuring age gap and breeding? :) she just asks them "what does break my belt mean?" and oh..

Caretaker… Hannigram x fem! Reader

Synopsis: it’s up to Will and Hannibal to take care of you, however that may be.

Content warning . 18+, MDNI age gap (reader is in her early 20s), spanking/usage of belts, punishments, dumbification, threesome, cum play, daddy kink . hard dom! Hannibal, soft dom! Will

Author’s Note: I didn’t know how to go about this (my brain isn’t braining rn) so I did smth similar :) this is literally pure filth like Im ovulating sorry

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“You need to stop being so hard on yourself.”

Will’s voice is soft as he gently rubs your sock clad feet, watching the small wince that you make when he grazes over a bruised toe. You adjust yourself on your bed, bottom becoming numb from how long you’ve been sitting. You slide the sleeves of your dress back up on your shoulders— they have a hard time staying up, and it’s something that annoys you incredibly.

“He’s right,” Hannibal chimes from the cushioned seat in the corner of the room. He closes the book in his hand and sets it on the desk beside him. It’s funny, how different these two men look in your pink, frilly room. “You’re working yourself too hard, little one.”

You frown, feeling the bed dip as Hannibal joins you and Will’s side.

“But ballet is important to me.”

“So is your health,” Will replies, and notices the way you seem to fidget in your dress. “Is your dress bothering you, baby?”

You nod, heat creeping up your neck when Will lifts the hem of it over your head. Now clad in your bra and cotton panties, you feel open and exposed. But since it’s Hannibal and Will, you feel safer than you’ve ever been.

“Come here,” Will says, and you crawl over to the place in between his spread thighs as he leans against your headboard. Hannibal follows in quiet suit, moving to Will’s side and holding your hand in his much larger one. Will’s hands play with your hair as you think back to something you’d been wanting to ask the two for a while.

“Can one of you use your belt on me?”

The soft scrape against your scalp stops at the question.

“What?”

“I mean,” you mumble, cheeks flaring. “I was watching a video.. ‘n.. the guy, he—“

“You’ve been watching naughty videos?” Hannibal inquires. You shake your head, wide doe eyes flashing.

“No!” You reply, too quickly. “No, of course not.”

“Hmm,” the man shifts, gripping the soft skin of your jaw gently with his hand. Looking into your eyes, he can see the deceit in them. “You have, haven’t you? You know what we say about those videos, darling. They’re bad for you,” he looks back to the other man in the room. “Maybe we will have to spank her after all. Don’t you think, Will?”

“Play nice, Hannibal,” Will warns, though his mouth pulls into a small, amused smirk. “She’s sensitive. Probably doesn’t even know what she’s asking for.”

“I do.” you whine, pawing at the sleeve of Hannibal’s suit. He chuckles, thumb rubbing gently over your wrist.

“Come here then, little one,” Hannibal coos. “Over my knee.”

Your eyes widen, pouty lips dropping open in awe.

“Now?” You squeak.

Will rolls his eyes, patting you softly on the arm.

“You heard him, Bunny. Go on.”

Getting on your hands and knees, panty clad ass now revealing the puff ball bunny tail on the back of the fabric, the two of them think you’re the cutest little thing they’ve ever seen. You hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone, and watch as Will hands over his belt to Hannibal. It’s your favorite one, plain black but with a belt buckle that has your initials imprinted. Will wears it often— he’s not one to have flashy accessories, but since it was a gift from you he cherishes it dearly.

Since Will is on Hannibal’s left side, you decide to position yourself with your face directed towards him. This leads to your arms and face being smooshed against Will’s thighs, and he gently rubs your head with his hands. Hannibal hums when your ass lifts up for him, bunny tail flickering as you move your hips to get his attention.

“We should keep these on, don’t you think?” He says, fingers grazing over the bunny tail. “Too precious to pull them down, lover.”

You nod shyly, letting out a puff of air when Will’s fingers begin fumbling with the hooks on your bra. He advises you to slide the straps off your shoulders when he undoes them, and you awkwardly shuffle them off. Will’s hands move around your back to grope one of your breasts. The feeling of cold leather against your backside makes you whimper, and Hannibal positions his hand on the bottom of your thigh.

“Move your hands behind your back,” Hannibal demands. “You aren’t in any position of control. If you want to stop, you know the rules.”

“Yes, daddy,” you reply, almost immediately. You move your arms back to link them together, Will’s hands gripping the both of yours tightly to make sure you don’t move.

“Good girl,” and then, “You’re going to count each one I give you. We will stop at ten since this is your first time.”

You nod, as much as you can with your face buried in Will’s lap. You can feel the hardness in his pants, right up against your cheek, and your mouth waters.

There’s a comforting rub against your left cheek before Hannibal brings the belt down. It isn’t too bad, a slight sting that makes you jump.

“One.” You say, quietly. Your ass lifts up for more.

“Good,” Hannibal praises, soothing the skin once more. “Are you going to watch those videos again?”

You stay silent, contemplating but also being quiet on purpose. You can’t deny that Hannibal getting angry with you makes your panties drenched.

At this, Hannibal slams the belt down onto you once again. A warning. You cry out this time, feeling a burning sensation along your skin.

“Don’t make me ask you again,” he says sternly. “And don’t make me have to break my belt on you, little one.”

“What does that mean?” you whine, ditzy little head genuinely confused by such a simple term. You inhale the scent of Will’s pants, and from above you, the brunette’s hands gently soothe your back.

“Told you, Hanni,” he singsongs. “Doesn’t even know what she’s asking for.”

“Ignoring your interruption,” Hannibal says, annoyed (but not really). He directs his attention back to you. “Tell me, little one. Yes or no?”

You bite your lower lip, cheeks flaring as your arousal increases.

“Yes.”

Hannibal scoffs.

“You’re asking for it, aren’t you?”

The belt comes down on you again. You jump, tears beginning to pool along your waterline.

“What was that?” Hannibal demands harshly. “Was that a yes that I heard?”

“No!” You say. “No, daddy, I’ll never ever watch those videos again! I promise, promise…”

You thrash against the pain, and Hannibal’s palms rub the sore skin.

“Alright,” he replies. “but I’m adding five more. Naughty girls who don’t listen get punished.”

“Hannibal,” Will warns. “She’s fragile.”

“She’s a brat, is what she is, Will. Stop defending her,” Hannibal’s hands wrap around your hair, pulling your teary eyed face up and craning your neck. “Now count. Starting from three.”

The belt comes down again, and your hands ache, along with your bottom.

“T-Three.” You say. The belt comes down on you again, and again. You count to five.

“You really need to be harder on her,” Hannibal says to Will, who’s subtly grinding against your face as he watches you writhe below him. “She needs to learn that her actions have consequences.”

“I know,” Will sighs, then gently taps the tip of your nose, and smiles softly. “But look at how precious she is.”

Hannibal rolls his eyes, bringing out the sixth then seventh hit. You can already feel the blooming of bruises by the time you hit number ten, and your aching pussy grinds down into Hannibal’s thigh. He seems to allow this, and by the twelfth hit, he’s teasing you about it.

“Is this arousing you, lover?” He asks, amused. “You only have three more to go. You better enjoy it.”

“Mm, she is,” Will cuts in, reaching down between your legs to feel your soaked panties. “Little pussy is so wet,” and then, “You ruined your panties, pup.”

Mewling, you allow another smack to come down onto your ass.

“T-Thirteen,” you whimper out. “Could.. could you buy me some new panties, Will?”

Another smack. Another number. Will tilts his head, staring at your panty clad ass.

“Mm,” he replies. “I don’t know, Hannibal. What do you think?” His fingers grasp the puff ball tail and tug it up. This makes your panties ride up in between your folds, and you gasp, humiliated. “I think baby blue would really suit her.”

“That, or lilac,” the eldest man replies. “We’ll get you a new set, little one. But only because it benefits us as much as it benefits you.”

You smile, giddy with excitement to take another shopping trip. Hannibal rubs your ass again, and Will kisses you on the head.

“One more for us, alright?”

You nod, perky ass throbbing with heat. Hannibal slams the belt down, and this time you let out a sob. It was the harshest hit, one sure to leave a welt or two. Hannibal coos when he sees your look of pain, throwing the belt to the side and gently massaging you.

“Shhh. It’s alright. Come here, darling.”

You maneuver your body to slide in between Hannibal’s legs, pulling him into a hug. His arms wrap around your smaller form, and he kisses your hair, allowing you to bury your face into his shoulder. You let out a few more stray tears while he and Will both soothe the ache on your bottom.

“You know we only do this because we have to.” Hannibal murmurs.

“I know, daddy.”

“Actions have consequences, and you asked for this sort of punishment. So we decided to give it to you,” he explains, and pulls away to wipe away your tears with his thumbs. “Did you enjoy it?”

You nod, a small smile grazing your lips.

“I did. I enjoyed it a lot.”

“Good,” he replies. “And since you’ve taken your punishment so well, I’m giving you the opportunity to ask for something. Whatever you want, you can have it.”

Your eyes brighten.

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

You lick your lips, contemplating your options with excitement.

“Hmm,” you say, and then finally come to your decision. You look over to your second boyfriend, who seems to be watching you with an almost love struck gaze. “I want Will… want his mouth. Please?”

Will licks his lips at the statement. Oral is one of his favorite things to give.

“Very well,” Hannibal says, then gestures for Will. “She can lay in between my legs. You lay between hers.”

Will nods, and you happily turn around and begin sliding off your panties. Spreading your legs, you look up at Will with doe eyes as he approaches you. His lips touch yours, sliding easily against the expanse of your mouth. When he pulls away, the scent of your arousal overtakes his senses. He groans, moving down in between your legs.

Hannibal’s big arms wrap around your shoulders, keeping you still. Will flawlessly licks a stripe up your slit, making you whimper and hold onto Hannibal for dear life as he begins to eat you like a man starved. His mouth works wonders against your tiny hole and aching clit as he groans into your cunt, drinking your sweet juices like it’s nectar of the Gods.

“How does she taste?” Hannibal asks, even though he already knows the answer. He loves to go down on you just as much as the other man.

Will pulls away, chin dripping and hair disheveled.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” he gasps out, nosing at your folds. His thumbs spread them apart, exposing your hole that’s coated in creamy slick. “Cutest fuckin’ cunt I’ve ever seen.”

You clench, letting him see the opening and closing of your hole. You want him to stick his tongue back inside.

You don’t have to wait long for that, because a mere second later Hannibal’s big hand splays across the back of Will’s head and pushes him back down. Will lets out a moan at this, allowing Hannibal to guide his head up and down and every which way that brings you closer and closer to your peak. Hannibal smirks, watching the way you writhe under his tongue and watch Will with hungry, lidded eyes.

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” He says, and you can feel his hardness pressing against your back.

Drool seeps down your chin as you nod.

“Mhm..” you whine out. Your hands go to the boy’s hair, and he whimpers when you tug on the strands.

“He likes when you do that,” Hannibal observes, his tone low. He kisses the shell of your ear. “Do it again.”

You comply, watching the way Will’s hips grind down into the mattress when it happens and the way Hannibal lets out a heavy breath. Will’s mouth works harder, bringing your clit in between his lips and lightly sucking. You gasp out his name, hips moving against him in tandem.

“Will, Daddy.. ‘m so close..”

“Close, yes?” Hannibal taunts, and his grip around your throat tightens. His biceps practically squeeze your neck as you near closer and closer to your high, your throat gasping for breath. When your orgasm overtakes you, Hannibal loosens his grip, but not quite. You let out a raw, pleasure filled moan when you cum, Will working you through until the point of overstimulation, your legs shaking and your sock clad feet pushing on his shoulders. He chuckles when he pulls away, a pleased grin forming as he wipes his slick coated mouth on the back of his wrist. And boy, is it a sight. He licks up the remaining remnants of your arousal with his tongue, hands splaying on either side of you and Hannibal’s legs so he can move up and kiss you filthily on the mouth. Hannibal is next, a tender peck that makes the cock against your lower back twitch. It has him licking his lips when Will pulls away, his lashes fluttering as he sighs in content. He presses a kiss to your mouth, too, and relaxes even further.

It’s only a mere moment of rest before you can feel that familiar throb again, and the sight of your two boys bulging through their pants makes you drool. You spread your legs, overstimulated pussy on full display.

Will, who had been laying at the foot of the bed in front of the both of you, watches with hunger. You lean away from Hannibal, instead turning yourself on your knees and presenting yourself to Will, who’s already positioning himself behind you eagerly. Hannibal, the most patient out of all three of you, no doubt, finally takes his aching cock out of his pants and wraps a hand around himself at the scene. You hear the rustling of Will’s fly being undone, then his length is pressed against your ass and wet, oh so wet, even when he slides it in between your folds and sheathes himself inside your little hole with one swift movement. Your mouth drops open at the sensation of being filled, your hands finding purchase on Hannibal’s thick thighs in front of you. His cock is hitting his stomach, red and leaking drops of precum down the tip, and you watch as Hannibal rubs it up and down with his hand. You look up at him pleadingly as Will begins to pound you into the mattress.

“You want daddy’s cock in your mouth, is that it?” Hannibal teases, and you nod. He sighs, directing the tip of his cock towards you. “Open wide, sweet girl.”

You happily obey, tongue lolling out to lick at his tip, his stringy precum sticking to your bottom lip and the head of his cock, tasting absolutely divine. Will’s hands roam over your ass as his cock bullies your gummy walls.

“Mm, Hanni got you good, didn’t he, baby?” He says, examining the marks. “Gonna have to put some lotion on that later.”

The use of the nickname in Will’s mouth is a mockery of your own. You nod, however, pouting.

“Mhm. But Daddy knows what’s best for me.”

“That’s right,” Hannibal grunts out, when you take him fully down your throat. “Dumb little girls like you can’t think for themselves. That’s why you need Will and I to take care of you,” and then, “God, darling, your mouth is just perfect.”

You hum, choking on him. Will’s fingers bruise your hips now, his balls slapping against your ass with every harsh thrust. Your pussy quakes around him, clamping down on his length. His breath is warm against your ear as he pushes in and out of you.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby..” as he watches your ass bounce back against him.

“Look at that tight little pussy, practically choking my dick.” as he spreads your cheeks apart, watching the way you take him.

“Hannibal’s cock tastes good, doesn’t it?” As you come up for air and gasp, drool soaking your neck and chin.

You can feel when he gets close by the way his hips stutter, and with a lewd whine hes babbling endlessly.

“I’m gonna cum,” he says. “Gonna cum in this slut pussy— god, squeeze me just like that.”

“Please,” you whimper endlessly, and you can hear Hannibal let out a breathy chuckle.

“She wants it. She wants you to cum in her cunt,” his voice drops an octave as he watches the boy. “Come on. I need something to lubricate her more once I get my turn, don’t I?”

“Oh—“

Will’s eyes roll back, his body tensing up as he finally releases inside her. She clenches down on him, milking him for all he’s worth as he shoots rope after rope deep inside her gaping pussy. Hannibal’s fingers nestle into the boy’s hair as he rides out his orgasm, gently twirling the soft locks in between his fingers. You watch with your mouth turned into an o, burying yourself deeper against Hannibal’s chest in retaliation.

“There you go,” Hannibal coos when Will sighs against your chest, spent. “Good boy.”

“Tease,” Will mumbles back to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. His eyes look up at you and he smiles. “Are you okay?”

You giggle, nodding your head.

“More than okay.”

He looks down at the mess between your thighs as he pulls out, grunting. A trail of his spend pools out of you and onto the sheets.

His fingers begin to move up to your drenched clit— you need release to, after all, and Will is never a selfish lover—but before he can, Hannibal’s hand grabs his wrist.

“No,” he utters. “Let me, once I’m inside her.”

“Like I said,” Will grumbles, moving out from between your legs to settle back against the headboard. “Tease.”

Hannibal rolls his eyes, guiding you to turn around and face him. You bite your lower lip at the feeling of Will’s cum trailing down your thighs. Hannibal undoes his belt, pulling down his zipper so his pants are open and his briefs are exposed.

“Take me out, darling.”

She reaches into the waistband of his underwear, pulling his length out and giving it a few languid strokes. Will watches, his spent cock twitching against his stomach. He ignores it, instead deciding to move to your side and press a kiss to your heated cheek. His hand provides a comforting pressure to the back of your head as he settles it in your hair. Hannibal tilts his head, grabbing the back of your thighs and pulling you into his lap.

“Put my cock inside you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Be a good girl.”

Your lashes flutter at the vulgar term spilling from the usually polite man’s lips. Will’s hands scrape against your scalp and your brain is fuzzy with how good it all feels. Grabbing Hannibal’s length in your hand, you position your dripping cunt over the tip of his cock.

Sinking down makes your brows furrow. Hannibal isn’t as big as Will, but that isn’t saying much. The man still has a considerable size, and his girth stretches your gummy walls exceptionally. You whimper, settling down to the very base of his cock. Hannibal’s head tilts back and hits the headboard, his eyes squeezing shut to get used to the sensation of you wrapped around him. His big hands splay across your hips and Will nuzzles your throat affectionately.

“Daddy.” you whine, your little pussy beginning to rock onto Hannibal.

“Yes?”

“Fuck me, please?”

He smiles, pulling you further against him so he can brace his feet underneath you. His cock gives a few shallow thrusts, getting used to your heat, before moving into more dangerous territory. It isn’t long before he’s jackhammering into you, your head tilted back by Will’s big hands. He demands you open your mouth, and you do. A glob of spit lands on your tongue, which you swallow greedily. Hannibal groans as he watches the scene.

“Filthy little things,” he mutters, pulling you into a kiss. You both share Will’s saliva on your intertwining tongues.

Your thighs shake as Hannibal’s cock and balls leak with Will’s cum. The sound is utterly sinful— the gushing sounds of his cock pummeling your filled pussy, his balls slapping against your ass, the sobs tearing through your throat. Tears stream down your cheeks and you’re sobbing.

Hannibal’s fingers reach down to your clit, deftly rubbing against the swollen nub exactly the way you like. It isn’t long before you reach your peak, your pussy clenching down as a string of filthy words makes its way out of your throat, burying your face in Hannibal’s white button down and staining it with salty tears. Will is an absolute sweetheart, guiding your hips with his hands to help you, cooing little sweet sayings in your ear. He cakes your throat in pretty red marks.

Hannibal draws closer to his orgasm, small grunts and heavy breaths spilling out of his mouth. It isn’t long before he empties inside you, filling you up with a second load of sticky, white cum. He pulls your limp body off of his length, your pussy making a gushing sound as both of your boyfriend’s dribble out of you. The two men sigh when they see it, their cocks both twitching at the sight.

But all three of you have had enough for the day— or at least for the next few hours. Hannibal disappears out of the room for a moment to bring back a glass of water and lotion. He holds the water to your lips and sweetly coos, “you’ve been such an obedient girl. Drink, okay?”

You do, of course. You drink the whole damn glass.

After going into the bathroom to pee and wipe your cum covered thighs, Hannibal lotions your sore bottom with gentle hands. After this you finally crawl back into bed, moving onto your stomach and hugging your pillow tightly. Will chuckles.

“You don’t want a bubble bath?” He asks, because that’s usually what you request. But you just shake your head, your eyes fluttering shut. Not asleep, but almost. Will nods his head. “Later then, sweet girl.”

The boy crawls to your side, wrapping his big arm around you and pulling you to his side. Hannibal soon joins, his tie loosened and jacket off, pants unbuttoned. It’s rare to see him in such a messy state, relaxed. Only you and Will can help him unwind like this.

He lays on his back, and you lay your head on his chest, inhaling his strong, expensive cologne. Beside you, you can smell the aftershave that Will wears— Hannibal teases him about it, but you’re quite fond of it. It smells like home.

They smell like home.

You smile sleepily, watching with barely open eyes as Hannibal and Will’s hands connect over you. As you fall into a peaceful sleep, the two men on either side of you stay wide awake.

After a moment, Will chuckles.

“So I’m assuming we’ll be using my belt more often?”

“Guaranteed,” hannibal confirms, watching you drool onto his shirt in your sleep. He never mentions it to you because he doesn’t want you to be embarrassed. “Perhaps we can use it on you next time, Will”

The younger man scoffs, his cheeks flaring as he buries his face into your hair.

“Shut up, Hanni.”

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[ficnation]

Chapter 5: Bait

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,0k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings A/n: It's been eighty-four years... (unedited)

Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

The silence in the room is deafening as you stare at Jack Crawford with wide eyes. The tea you just made would already be nothing more than a puddle on the wooden floor if it wasn’t for Will, who took it from your hands when they began to shake. He doesn’t even blink when a few drops spill out over his fingers and burn his skin.

“You can’t be serious,” you mumble in disbelief, your gaze shifting to Will, who stands steadfast by your side, unmoving. He casts a glance between you and Jack, once, then twice, grappling with the weight of his allegiance. It doesn’t require a genius to connect the dots. “Did you know about this, Will?” Your voice carries a tone of betrayal, leaving Will feeling like Brutus to your Julius Caesar—as though he just plunged a metaphorical dagger into your back.

Jack Crawford stares at you long and hard, and a little guilty. “You’re our best chance.”

“You want me to be the bait.” You cross your arms over your chest and take a step back, furiously shaking your head. “I’m not— I won’t do that,” you protest.

Even if you never expected anything less from Jack Crawford, the feeling of treachery is almost crushing. Will takes a step towards you, and then another. He approaches you cautiously, with his hands extended in a calming gesture, almost as if he were approaching a scared animal ready to bolt any minute now. You’d consider it a pretty funny sight if the situation were any different, but right now, you might just be a skittish doe surrounded by wolves.

When he places a hand on your back, his touch lacks the usual reassurance it once held. Despite any grievances you may have harbored against him, he was always your sanctuary. Yet today, that sanctuary feels distant. You gently shrug his hand off and take a step back. The pain in Will’s eyes is palpable—a deep, sorrowful abyss that mirrors your own heartache.

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it was the right thing to do,” Will says in response. “You’re the best shot we’ve got.”

“What makes you even think that Hannibal Lecter will pursue me? I find it hard to believe.”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” Jack raises a brow, his tone tinged with a hint of sarcasm that makes you itch to punch him square in the face. Sure, you’re breathing, but your sister lies six feet under the very ground you’re walking on. “I’ve seen how he looks at you.”

You’ve felt it too—the lingering gazes trailing you as you tread the corridors of the BAU’s headquarters, the enigmatic curve of his lips as you cross his path. It’s a sensation that crawls beneath your skin, a disconcerting dance of shadows in the depths of your soul. What strange game is he playing with you? 

Will’s face contorts into an indescribable grimace when he hears those words spoken aloud, as if each syllable is a sharp knife twisting deeper into his already troubled conscience. 

“I’m not going to throw you into the lion’s mouth and just sit back and watch,” Will says after a few seconds of silence. “He’s intrigued by you, just as much as he’s intrigued by me. I don’t think he’d hurt you.”

Jack seems satisfied with that. He knows that if Will is on board, it won’t take much persuasion to get you there too. He genuinely believes that you can help them. Yet, you surprise him once again, and he wonders who snuffed out your will to fight to make the world a better place.

“Do you even hear yourself, Will? I very much like being alive. I won’t do this, and that’s my final answer,” you huff out, stepping away from him, even though it hurts—burns your soul.

Will can’t bring himself to be upset with you because your reaction is completely understandable. Your sister—your flesh and blood—has been taken from you, and you’re just exhausted. You don’t have the energy to risk fighting a man like Hannibal, and he understands that better than anyone else ever could.

“I’m only asking for your help, not your life,” Jack says. Deep down, he knows he’s not winning this if Will doesn’t, and one glance at the green-eyed man confirms they’re at an impasse. So, he steps back, granting you the much-needed space. “Take some time to think about it.”

“No, thank you. I won’t be thinking about it,” you assert firmly, your resolve unyielding.

Jack sighs and shakes his head, almost in awe of your stubbornness, but surprisingly not in a condescending way. “Suit yourself,” he says before turning around and walking out of the kitchen.

Will makes sure that Jack is out of the room and out of hearing distance before he sets the mug on the counter and lets his frustration come out. He lets out a long sigh, moving close to you once again. You can see that all he wants is to kiss you, to drown you in his touch the way only he can—but he’s holding himself back, and you know it’s not easy. 

“I didn’t want this,” Will’s words are sharp, his voice tinged with bitterness. “I don’t want any of this, but I do know that Hannibal needs to be taken down,” he adds, his gaze hardening with determination.

You don’t answer, and you can see that Will is disappointed by your response, or rather the lack of one. His disappointment doesn’t hurt as much as it should, and that realization pains you even more. While your brain insists it’s for the greater good to apprehend Hannibal, you can’t ignore the persistent voice whispering in your ear, urging you to prioritize yourself above all.

If you let yourself accept this, if you become the bait that Jack wants you to be, it’s as if you’re letting yourself go once again. Everything you’ve buried in the darkest cranny of your mind will come back to haunt you. And you can’t go through it all again. You can’t.

Will takes your hand, and you can feel his body shaking slightly, his breath quickening. He’s nervous, but there’s something else at play here, and it’s hard for you to discern exactly what it is. His hand tightens around yours until all your fingers are securely in his grasp, and he doesn’t let go. It’s as if he’s trying to communicate something by the intensity of his grip, as if his emotions can no longer be contained by mere words. And when he finally speaks, his voice is so soft that you can barely hear him even in the silent room.

“Can I ask you a question?” Will’s voice is tentative, his grip tightening on your hand.

“You ask a lot of them lately,” you say lightheartedly.

He chuckles at your jab, his hand still intertwined with yours. “I’m serious,” he mumbles, his tone becoming earnest. “Would you trust me... enough to believe that Hannibal won’t harm you? I will protect you from him. I swear on my life.”

Will holds your gaze, and your mind turns blank—his question leaves you mute. It’s been a long time since you’ve trusted someone so much. He’s so important to you that it hurts more than you would like to admit. This isn’t the Will Graham from just a few minutes ago—loyal to Jack’s dictations and ideas. This is Will Graham—your love, your best friend. And right now, you’d trust him with your life.

“I will do it,” you mumble out, chewing nervously on your bottom lip. You look him straight in the eyes and repeat it a little louder. “I will do my best.”

Will lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and he pulls you close to him once more so that your lips almost touch his jaw—almost. His fingers travel through your hair, and his other hand grips at the back of your sweater. There’s nothing more intimate than this—the quiet understanding between you two. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Thank you,” his voice is a murmur—a promise, a secret shared, something intimate amidst all of this madness.

“I’m not doing it for Crawford or anyone else. I’m doing it for you, for my sister…”

“I know, love,” Will mumbles, his voice still as soft as ever. “I know.”

Silence sets in, with only the sound of you and Will breathing—in tandem with each other. It’s like a peaceful moment in between the chaos, where a thousand thoughts are all trying to fight for space in your head, but your focus is right here, right now, and it’s only you two.

The world doesn’t feel quite so dark when you’re here—when you’re with Will.

That night Will tells you to wear something nice and elegant, not too revealing. You don’t question him, changing into one of the few dresses you have in your suitcases. It’s pine green, the satin fabric fits almost like a second skin. There’s something about wearing this dress that makes you feel like you’re ready to take on whatever comes your way.

There’s also something about it that makes you excited to see Will’s face when he lays eyes on you. You know that he’ll love it and just a few minutes later his expression proves you were right.

“You look... ravishing,” Will whispers, his eyes locked on you. You can tell that he’s speechless by the way he blinks, almost too surprised by your appearance. 

“You don’t think it’s too much?” you mumble, feeling slightly embarrassed by how much you anticipated his reaction. 

“It’s perfect,” he tells you, and you take a deep breath and walk across the room to kiss his lips. You take it slow and give a little bite at the end—just to see his reaction.

“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” Will mumbles, his voice already a little lower than before. He can feel your lips sliding away, as if they’re a temptation that’s almost impossible to resist. The kiss was short, but Will knows he enjoyed it more than a little bit. 

“I might just do it again,” you warn him, and you move close to his ear to whisper some words that make your body shiver and his skin break out in goosebumps. “We need to finish that dinner fast. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sit next to you and keep my hands to myself.”

Will swallows hard, his heart beating quicker, as he looks down at you. Your words are enough to render him speechless. He can’t find his voice to reply. It’d be too easy to pull you into his mind and act on both of your instincts. The mere thought of it makes him so nervous, so hungry, and so eager. When he finally speaks, it’s in a low, desperate tone that sounds far away. 

“You make my blood boil.”

Standing in front of Hannibal Lecter’s house, flanked by Will and Jack, feels like the most daunting task you’ve ever faced. The weight of impending decisions hangs heavy in the air, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re on the verge of unraveling your own life once again. Your nerves are frayed, betraying the facade of composure you strive to maintain. Fear grips you tightly, its icy fingers coiling around your heart, as uncertainty clouds your thoughts. Every step closer to that imposing threshold feels like a leap into the unknown, leaving you teetering on the edge of a precipice. You steel yourself for what lies ahead, hoping against hope that your resolve won’t crumble under the weight of doubt.

Jack stands silently next to you, his expression cold and his eyes piercing you from time to time in a way that’s unnerving. His mere presence sends shivers down your spine. You glance at Will, who appears just as uncertain as you, if not more so. While the decision to help take down Hannibal doesn’t seem to trouble him, the thought of involving you in this dangerous endeavor clearly weighs heavily on his mind. What he’s asking you to endure and the risks involved make him flinch as much as they make your stomach churn with dread.

Will’s fingers slide in between yours, a silent promise that he won’t leave your side. You can almost feel his heart beating wildly, mirroring your own, and you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, focusing solely on the person about to open the door.

The door swings open, welcoming you into a home that’s as stunning inside as it is outside. But the beauty of the surroundings fades into insignificance as you lay eyes on the Hannibal Lecter standing before you. Suddenly, you find it impossible to meet anyone else’s gaze but his, your surroundings fading into a thick fog as his presence commands your attention.

Hannibal looks at you—your body, your hair, your face, everything. His gaze sweeps over you with an intensity that makes you feel exposed, as if he’s peeling back the layers of your carefully constructed facade. You swear he sees right through you, leaving no detail unnoticed and no fraction of space untouched by his scrutiny. It’s unnerving, the way he seems to perceive not just the person in front of him, but the one behind the delicate mask you’ve crafted.

Your heart rate skyrockets as his gaze lingers, and it takes all your willpower and courage to maintain a neutral expression, to keep the tremor of fear from showing on your face.

Before you can fully absorb the image of him, Jack steps forward, breaking the painful silence. “Dr. Lecter,” he speaks in a stern voice, then turns to look at you, acting as the bridge between you and the stranger.

“Ms. Avant,” Hannibal’s voice is as smooth and elegant as you’ve always heard it to be. His tone is polite but distant, prompting you to remember to smile in order to appear normal. Will’s fingers squeeze yours in a silent display of support, conveying his discontent with the arrangement. But you both know there’s little you can do about it.

“It’s actually Mrs. Graham now,” you correct him, but immediately regret it when his eyes widen subtly—a reaction you barely catch. It seems Will has kept this information to himself. “But you can still call me Agent Avant. It’ll save the confusion around the BAU.”

Hannibal gives you a small smile, but your comment seems to have thrown him off balance. Your response is far more cordial than he was expecting, and he appears almost amused by the unexpected turn of events. He exchanges a glance with Jack before turning his gaze back to you.

“I’ll do as you ask,” he replies, his tone tinged with curiosity—but beneath the surface, there’s an undertone of something darker lurking. As he takes your hand in his and squeezes gently, a shiver runs down your spine.

You feel like you can’t breathe. Your hands are damp, your throat feels sore and dry, and you struggle to calm your racing mind. “Thank you for the invitation, Doctor Lecter,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hannibal takes in your statement but doesn’t offer any reply. He maintains his hold on your hands, his grip slightly tighter than before. Despite the warmth and firmness of his touch, you can’t shake off the unsettling feeling that lingers.

His gaze locks onto yours, and you feel yourself being drawn into the depths of his eyes. It’s as if he’s peering into your very soul, and you find it difficult to tear your gaze away. You’re on the verge of melting under his intense scrutiny when you manage to spare a quick glance at Will, whose expression remains impassive, betraying little of what he might be feeling. 

A moment passes as you struggle to fend off the creeping anxiety, attempting to find some semblance of calm within yourself. Then, Will releases a breath and strides forward, heading towards the open door. Without hesitation, you follow in his footsteps.

Hannibal casts one last glance in your direction before turning away, ushering you into his home. As you step inside, you’re greeted by the sight of luxurious furniture and intricate decorations adorning the space. The room exudes opulence, almost resembling a palace rather than the abode of a mere man.

“He’s a man of taste,” Jack remarks, his words breaking the silence. You sense that he’s directing the observation at you, a detail that would be inconsequential under different circumstances.

You nod in acknowledgment, allowing your thoughts to drift as you proceed further into the house.

“It’s all very... extravagant,” is what you say next, and what you don’t add is how there’s a faint sense of emptiness in this house despite all the details and decorations. It’s almost chilling.

“I do favor extravagance and elegance in my lifestyle,” Hannibal agrees, his gaze darting carefully between you and Will. Surprisingly, he doesn’t appear to be perturbed by Jack Crawford’s presence as much as you anticipated.

“I’ve noticed that,” a whisper slips from your lips inadvertently. The comment was meant to remain in your thoughts, but the words escape on their own accord. You glance away momentarily, hoping the remark will go unnoticed, but Hannibal catches it without hesitation. He smiles at you, almost as if you’ve just paid him a compliment.

“Oh, you have?” Hannibal’s voice is smooth and pleasant, its seductive undertones causing a flush to rise to your cheeks.

You offer a delicate smile in response, opting not to elaborate further as Hannibal leads you to the dining room. The table is expansive, perfectly set to accommodate everyone present. A bottle of wine rests in the center, surrounded by meticulously arranged plates, utensils, glasses, and other accouterments—everything impeccably placed without a single detail out of order.

As Hannibal offers you a seat, the mere thought of sitting so close to him sends a shudder down your spine. It’s as if you can almost feel the heat radiating from his body as he settles into the head of the table. Your breath becomes heavy, your heart quickens its pace, and your mind races with a flurry of thoughts and emotions.

You notice every detail of his demeanor—the elegant curve of his fingers around the stem of his glass, the subtle curl of his lips, the intensity of his gaze when it lingers on yours for just a moment too long. It’s all so captivating, yet simultaneously overwhelming, causing a weakness to settle in the pit of your stomach. You find yourself averting your gaze multiple times, attempting to break free from the enchanting spell he seems to cast over your mind.

Beside you, Will’s expression remains impassive, but you can sense that he, too, is attuned to every nuance of Hannibal’s behavior.

As Hannibal disappears into the kitchen to bring out the food, you exhale a sigh of relief, though you can’t shake the fear that he might hear it all the way from the kitchen.

You cast a glance at Will, hoping for some distraction from the overwhelming intensity of the moment. However, his expression remains unchanged, revealing nothing of what might be running through his mind. It’s as if he’s closed off his thoughts, leaving you with no insight into his inner turmoil.

You feel trapped in the most claustrophobic way imaginable. Hannibal’s presence consumes your thoughts entirely—his smile, his breath, his voice, his touch—all of it overwhelms your senses. Even the mere scent of him sends shivers down your spine. You’re engulfed by the intensity of the situation, wondering how you’ll manage to make it through the dinner.

When Hannibal returns and places the fish on the table between Jack and Will, you notice a flicker of relief pass between them as they exchange a glance.

“Truite saumonee au bleau with vegetables and broth, served with hollandaise sauce on the side,” Hannibal presents the dish with a flourish, the delicate aroma wafting enticingly through the air. “Beautiful fish, Will,” he adds, his tone carrying a hint of admiration for the culinary creation before you.

“It was my turn to provide the meat,” Will interjects, his words carrying a deeper meaning than mere culinary discussion.

“More flavorful and firm than farmed specimens. I find the trout to be a very Nietzschean fish. Trials of his wild existence find their way into the flavor of the flesh,” Hannibal comments, before serving the food and taking his seat at the head of the table. “I hope ‘providing the meat’ doesn’t mean you still harbor doubts about what I serve at my table.”

You try to maintain an appearance of composure, despite feeling like a nervous wreck. Taking a deep breath, you hold it in for a moment before releasing it slowly. Casting your gaze down at your plate, you decide to focus on eating—it’s the least you can do to occupy yourself in this tense atmosphere. Picking up your fork, you take bite after bite of the fish, though you find that everything seems to lack flavor, despite its deliciousness.

Will remains silent, his expression unreadable.

Jack chuckles dryly before speaking on Will’s behalf. “No doubts, Dr. Lecter. Only the wounds we dealt each other before we got to the truth.”

You can’t fully grasp what either of them has said, as your mind is consumed by other thoughts. You feel Hannibal’s gaze fixed on you as you eat, his eyes attentively observing your every movement.

He doesn’t appear irritated by your slow pace or lack of enthusiasm, yet there’s something about his stare that compels you to rush through your meal just to make it stop. The scent of the food is almost like his breath in your nose, the taste of it feels like his lips, and when you take a bite, you almost expect him to lean over and take it from your mouth.

“Which is why we need to move past apologies and forgiveness,” Hannibal responds finally, his voice carrying a weight of conviction. As Will’s eyes catch his stare on you, Hannibal continues, “Chilton has many victims besides the dead.”

“That’s precisely our intention,” you assert, drawing all eyes towards you as you speak up with determination.

Everyone falls into a momentary silence, the weight of their gazes palpable as tension simmers in the air. Will’s eyes remain fixed on you, his expression one of approval as he acknowledges your firmness and confidence.

“We will absorb this experience, and it will change us. We are all Nietzschean fish in that regard,” Hannibal continues, his words punctuated by a subtle undertone of philosophical reflection.

“Makes us tastier,” Will interjects with a touch of humor, prompting you to gently kick him underneath the table.

Hannibal cracks a dry smile at Will’s comment, his demeanor retaining an air of sophistication as he sets his cutlery down on the plate and folds his hands in front of him.

“I would say it adds depth to our flavor,” he remarks, his words flowing from his lips with a smooth and velvety ease that seems to echo the rhythm of your heartbeat. The air in the room seems to pause for a moment, awaiting a reaction from someone, but you remain focused on your plate, determined to ignore the intensity of his stare until the end of the dinner.

The rest of the meal passes by in a blur. Hannibal maintains his role as the perfect host, his demeanor poised and gracious. Jack remains true to his usual self, engaging in conversation and observing the proceedings with his characteristic vigilance.

However, you can’t shake the feeling that something is amiss. Will, typically a key player in any plan, seems oddly detached, failing to fully engage in his part of the strategy. His silence speaks volumes, leaving you with a sense of unease as you try to decipher his intentions.

Reluctantly, Jack gathers his things and bids his farewell, leaving you and Will alone with Hannibal at the table. Hannibal, ever the gracious host, proposes another glass of wine, his gaze lingering on you both with a hint of intrigue.

#hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter #hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader #will graham #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter #will graham x hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x will graham #hannigram x reader #murder husbands #eat your heart out

[wolfish-nightmares]

A Violent Dog

Pairings: Will Graham x victim!reader x Hannibal Lecter

Era: Season 1-3

Warnings: gore, violence, sex, bad language, cannibalism, 18+

Category: Fluff. Angst. Smut

Summary: Will has always had a thing for picking up strays. 

Season 1 

Canius Lupus - When the FBI discovers an underground fighting ring, it's far beyond anything they ever expected and Will befriends a rather unusual victim.

Skin Between the Teeth - You can take the animal out of the fight but you can’t take the fight out of the animal.

Season 2

Season 3

#will graham x reader x hannibal lecter #will x reader x hannibal #will graham x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham #hannibal lecter #nbc hannibal #a violent dog

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Baltimore Part Four (Will Graham)

Description: Will and Y/N are on the hunt for Hannibal

Warning:Drugging, Violence

Word Count: 1,571k

I looked at Will like he was crazy. He wanted us to forgive him? After all he did, like almost kill him? I wasn’t a big fan of the idea of forgiving him. We walked into the chapel and looked around. It was a nice chapel but something felt odd about it. “The Chapel is closed.” We turned to leave but someone yelled something in our direction stopping us. “What did he say?” Will asked not understanding. “He wants to talk to you.” Will looks at the guy as he comes up to us. “Senior Graham.” “This is my wife Y/N Graham.” I shake the guy’s hand. He read all about Will in the FBI file. “What do you need from us?” I asked as we walked. “I’m just like you. I do what you do. We share the gift of imagination.” Pazzi as I learned his name said to Will. “You do what he does?” I asked the man and he nodded. “So you knew Hannibal?” I asked him after words were exchanged between the two. “I met him 20 years ago.” I looked at the man as he told us what he remembered. Hannibal was a dangerous man that I knew but I wasn’t aware that he had another life. “That’s where you met il Mostro.” Will said. Pazzi pulled out a picture of Hannibal 20 years younger. “That’s where I met him. The Monster of Florence.” I looked at the picture and saw how beautiful he was. 

We watched Pazzi leave as I looked around the place. Will had the crime folder in his hand. Will walked up to the crime scene and I followed. He moves the yellow tape and starts visioning what happened. “I splintered every bone…” He went off as he talked about how Hannibal did this. “This is my design.” He finishes. “He left us his broken heart.” “He has a heart?” I asked jokingly but Will looked at me and didn’t laugh. 

We were walking down the stairwell to the catacomb door. “You think Hannibal is here?” I asked him. He nodded. “And you wanna forgive him?” I asked. He nodded again. I wanted to question him on why he thinks that we should but we end up at the door and walk in. The place was dark and kinda scary. There was barely any light and Will called out his name. “Hannibal.” He called out over and over again. I got the feeling that Will was right about Hannibal. He was here. I hear Pazzi down here calling Will’s name. “Senior Graham.” We turned to him. “You shouldn’t be down here alone.” Will says to him. “I’m not alone, I'm with you guys.” “You don’t know what side we’re on.” I said to him. “What are you guys going to do when you find him?” I shrugged. “I’m curious about that myself.” Will says. “You and I both carry the dead with us, Senior Graham.” Will nods. “Why don't you carry your dead back to the chapel before you count yourself among them.” Will threatens him. I hit him on the shoulder. “Don’t threaten him.” I growl. “You’re already dead aren’t you?” He asked and slipped away into the darkness. I looked around as I expected Hannibal to show but he didn’t. “We forgive you.” Will yells to him. That is if he was even in here with us. 

The train moved as Will and I slept in the bed on top and Chiyoh slept at the bottom. We didn’t have much conversation but she was gonna help with Hannibal. Will shook me out of my peaceful as it can get sleep. “Sorry but you’d be mad if I didn’t wake you.” He says and I wait for him to continue. “She’s not in bed.” He tells me and we both get up. She was at the back of the train staring off as we walked out to her. “I like the night. It’s different from where we are during the day.” She says. “We’re different from who we are during the day.” Will says. We are both on her sides. “Why are you searching for Hannibal?” I asked her. She turned to me. “I know exactly where he is. I’m not searching.” She says. “Is he in Florence?” I asked her. She nods. “Why didn’t you tell us you knew?” Will asked her. She never broke eye contact with me. “I told you there are means of influence other than violence.”

She leans in and kisses me. I was shocked but didn’t push away or move. “Hey.” Will says and pulls her off me. She looks at him. “But violence is what you understand.” She says and pushes him off the train. “Will.” I yell and jump off it not even looking at her. I hurt myself by doing that but didn’t care. I got up as fast as I could and ran to Will. He was face down and he groaned as I helped him up. “Are you okay?” I asked him. He didn’t answer but took my hand. He looked bloody and I wanted to tend his needs but he began walking in the same direction the train went. “She thinks you want to hurt him.” I say. “Yeah well I do and so do you. But she wanted you to herself.” Jealousy laced in his voice. I smirked and gripped his hand tighter. “No need to be jealous Will.” He rolled his eyes at my teasing.��

“Will, Y/N.” Jack said to us looking happy to see us. We both nod at him and smile. 

“He’s wounded and worried.” Jack tells us. “Why didn’t you kill him?” I asked. Jack looked at me. “I want him to suffer alive.” “You can’t suffer dead.” Will says. We talked some about the situation until Jack mentions Mason. “Mason Verger is trying to capture Hannibal himself for purposes of personal revenge.” Jack tells us. “Have you told the police that he’s looking for Hannibal?” I asked. “They want to find Dr. Fell inside the law.” Dr. Fell. That was Hannibal’s new name. He couldn’t go under his actual name. 

Hannibal turned towards us and smiled. “Good to see you.” Will said. “Hannibal.” I say, wanting nothing more than to kiss him. Though I held myself back. “If I saw you guys forever I would remember this day.” He says. “Crazy seeing you in front of us.” Will said. Hannibal smiled. 

“How is Chiyoh?” Hannibal asked us. “She kissed me and pushed Will off a train.” I said and Will still didn’t look happy about the kiss. “Atta girl.” Hannibal said. “Hannibal there’s something all of us need to talk about.” I say and look at Will. He nods and looks at Hannibal. “We aren’t having marriage issues anymore and we’ve come to the conclusion that we both have feelings for you.” Will told him as we walked out of the museum. I watched Hannibal's face and he didn’t show shock or say much at first. “It’s true Hannibal. We’ve talked about it a lot.” I say. Before Hannibal answers, Will gets shot. “Will” I scream as he almost falls to the ground but Hannibal catches him. I help him with Will as Hannibal looks around. I noticed a knife on the ground that Will had dropped and picked it up. Was Will planning on killing Hannibal? “Come on, we need to go.” Hannibal says.

Hannibal walked into the house with me holding Will up with him. “Set him on the couch.” He said and I helped him sit Will down in the cho. “Will, you okay?” I asked as he groaned and moaned in pain. Hannibal comes back with a glass of water and make Will drink it. He hands me the glass and I kept giving it to Will. “The bullet is still inside you. This will hurt.” He says and helps Will. We both pull Will’s coat and shirt off to get to the wound. Hannibal handed the knife to me. “He dropped his forgiveness.” He told me as I looked at the knife. I looked at Will. “Will what the fuck is this?” I asked him. “You forgave how God forgives.” Hannibal says to him. “Does God gloat?” Will asked. I wanted to hit him for ignoring me.

“Will why the fuck do you have a knife?” I asked him again, this time aggression was in my tone. “Do you actually think I would kill him?” He asked me. “I don’t know why else would you have a knife?” Hannibal chuckled as he had a needle and injected it into Will’s arm. “What’s that?” I asked. “An antidote to help with the pain.” I saw Will focusing in and out of consensus. “No I don’t think that’s what you gave-” Hannibal pulls me close to him. “No love it wasn’t. But you two belong to me and you just made it easier with that confession.” He says and pulls me to the kitchen. “Hannibal, what are you doing?” I asked but he set me in the chair. He caressed my cheek and leaned down to kiss me. I missed the feeling of his lips on mine. They were soft and felt just right. I kissed back and he pulled away and smirked. His face dropped and he took my head and slammed it on the table knocking me out.         

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hugh dancy #mads mikkelsen #will graham #will graham x reader #hannibal imagine #will graham smut #will graham x you #hannibal smut #hannibal x will #will graham imagine #hannigram #will graham x reader x Hannibal Lecter

[madisonwritesstuff]

Hi!!! This is my first time ever requesting here on tumblr lol and I managed to stumble across your fic about Hannibal and Muslim reader! It was nice to read a fic about it since there’s so little fics with Muslim readers 😭😭 anyway, I was wondering if you could write another one with Muslim reader, but this time she DOES wear the hijab and how Hannibal and maybe Will might react to her being a doctor and agent while being maybe 28 or so. (You don’t have to separate it into two, maybe jsut one about them being friends (like a trio) and if they’d be curious about her religion and what not)

Thank you so much and hope your having an amazing week 🤧🤧

★ ; she deserves it. -------------------

Hannibal Lecter x Fem! Reader x Will Graham.

I hope this is an accurate representation of muslims! lmk if smth is off and have fun reading :3

Tags ; Fluff, besties with will n hanni, trio goals, islamophobia tw, platonically protective hannibal n will :3, subtle hints at hannibal being the chesapeake ripper, yandere-ish will and hanni, but mostly it's supposed to be platonic 💀.

You fixed your hijab and made sure your hair was neatly tucked underneath, before exiting the women's bathroom and making your way to your patients ward.

He had called you there earlier with a few other people to interrogate one of the rippers victims, and one of your patients. Somehow she had survived, while on the brink of death you were able to resuscitate her.

You walked into the ward, it was a private ward specialised for Jessie herself, which was your patients name.

Will and Hannibal seemed to turn around at the same time at the sound of the door opening, you gave them both a faint smile as you walked up to them both. “How is she?”

“Unconscious.” Hannibal spoke up. “But didn't one of the nurses say she woke up from her coma over a week ago?” Will spoke up, looking between Hannibal and you.

“Yeah no, she did wake up. She's probably just asleep. Which is also weird since that's not up to her sleep schedule. I've been documenting.” You mentioned, right then she started stirring awake.

“Speak of the devil.” Hannibal mumbled as you three watched her open her eyes and blink a few times before sitting up and staring at you three. “Who...?” She spoke up. “Jessie Freeman, right? I'm Y/N L/N, your assigned doctor. This is Will Graham, an FBI agent. And Hannibal Lecter.” I spoke up, motioning to them. Will gave a little wave while Hannibal nodded his head in acknowledgement.

“You're... My assigned doctor?” She spoke up scanning you up and down. “Yes, I assure you I'm the most skilled doctor in the facility.“ You smiled, trying to ease her worries. “No I'm not worried about that it's just... You're...” She trailed off, staring at you.

You were confused as to what she was talking about, but Will caught on, looking over at Hannibal who gave him a look which said „Did she really just say that?„ And Will shrugged back, raising an eyebrow as he stared at Jessie.

“I'm what? I'm sorry if you could clarify it would be a great help.” You smiled politely, trying to be as kind and understanding as possible. “You're a Muslim, aren't you? Look, I don't mean to be rude but I'm really uncomfortable around your kind of people and would just appreciate it if you could assign me a new doctor?”

You stared at her in shock and Hannibal almost regretted not finishing her off earlier. But he'd have more of a reason to now.

You were silent for a second. “Excuse me?” You raised an eyebrow. “You heard me clearly Dr. L/N. I don't like that thing you wear on your head either, it makes you look stupid.” You stared at her with wide eyes, not expecting her to insult you that far. “If you want to be a true woman at least take that stupid towel off your head.”

You walked up to her in fury. “Listen to me, you have no right to speak to me like that. If I wanted to I literally could cut off your life support. You're an incompetent being that has no brain and thoughts other than to insult people who have done NOTHING to you!” You yelled at her in anger, she was surprised to see you arguing back. “Well- I-i Fuck you! You're a terrorist! You're arguing like one too! How dare you threaten to kill me! You murderer!” She screamed and lunged at you, ripping your hijab off.

“Alright, that's enough.” Will spoke up before punching her square in the face, hard enough to knock her out. You were too horrified by the fact this woman just took your hijab off infront of two men to even think about yelling at Will about what he just did. You felt tears swell up as you hurriedly grabbed the scarf from the ground and covered your head, sniffling. Hannibal and Will immediately noticed and turned around, simultaneously.

After you were done you let out a sob. “I... I can't believe she did that.” You whispered, which prompted Hannibal to walk over to you and hug you, letting you sob into his shoulder as he pat your back in a soothing motion. “It's alright. It wasn't your fault. Some people are just born to be... Rude. Rude people get dealt with sooner or later.” He spoke as he stared at the blood seeping from Jessie's nose.

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better I promise I didn't see anything, but I wasn't expecting that either.” Will spoke up tried to comfort you while you sniffled. “Sniff, thanks for um, turning around when I was fixing my hijab. I'm- I'm sorry about crying I just-”

“Hey hey hey, there's no need to apologize, if anyone has to apologize it should be her, not you. Alright? None of this was your fault, you can't blame yourself for crying.” Will retorted, and now it was his turn to hug you.

“I think you should go home now.” Hannibal spoke up from behind. “Will, take her home, I need to stay behind.” He spoke as he glanced at Jessie's unconscious body.

“Alright, you alright now Y/N?” Will asked with a worried expression. “Yeah I'm- I'm alright now, I just wanna go home.” You spoke up with a faint smile. Will escorted you outside the ward.

———

“-Jessie Freeman, found dead in her hospital bed. Investigators say she was cut open while still conscious and burned to death whie still being conscious.”

You stared at the news on the TV in shock, you couldn't save a ripper victim after all. But was it such a bad thing? She deserved it.

No, what are you even thinking about? She was still a living being. Going through that was worse than what you went. Was it? It doesn't matter.

What matters is that she's gone, whether she leaves alive or dead.

But are you happy with that outcome?

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

#platonic relationships #hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #fem reader #female reader #will graham x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham #will graham x fem reader #hannibal lecter x fem reader #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader x will #will x reader x hannibal

[venusbyline]

i can fix him (no really i can)

#venusbyline #i can fix him #i can fix them #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #coriolanus snow #tbosas #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth #tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #evan peters #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #mads mikkelsen #will graham #will graham x reader #billy loomis x reader #ethan landry x reader #thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy #klaus mikaelson x reader #the tortured poets department

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Routine Check Up

Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Fem!Reader

Also on AO3

Summary: The good Dr. Lecter stops by to check up on Will Graham's favorite pet.

Word Count: 2.3k words

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, i think i was possessed while writing this, Plot? What fucking plot?, light petplay... but in the female gaze ig, Dom/Sub dynamic, light dehumanization, threesome, Hannibal gets to put his PhD to good use,Oral, unprotected p in v (don't you dare) ,dirty talk, self indulgent afffff, ....breeding kink?

A/N: I DECIDED TO SAY FUCK IT. @glitchedpup dedicating it to you here too!

---------

You woke to the sound of a car pulling up the gravel road, and Will’s dogs barking outside.

On the bedside clock, it read eight thirty AM. You usually woke up around the same time as Will, but you supposed he’d let you sleep in a little longer this time. It was a Sunday, after all.

Moments later, there was knocking on the front door. Will padded over from the kitchen and he opened it to reveal Hannibal. You sat up in the bed, curious, and crawled forward a little to get a better look.

“Hannibal,” he greeted in an even tone, even if you could tell he was a little surprised. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just a routine check-up, Will,” he said with a small shrug, looking over his shoulder at you. “Have to keep her healthy, right?”

“No courtesy call beforehand? That’s uncharacteristic of you,” Will noted, stepping aside to let him in. “I suppose you meant to surprise us.”

Once more, Hannibal smiled enigmatically, a glint of mischief in his amber eyes. “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by.”

He hung up his jacket by the door, and Will motioned for you to stand up and come closer. 

You shot him a quizzical look, but made no questions as you scurried over to them, standing at attention next to Will.

“Hello, there,” Hannibal said amicably. “Mind if I take a look at you?”

You nodded quickly, almost eagerly. Will raised an eyebrow at this, but Hannibal kept his eyes on you. 

This was one of his little games, a constant reminder of who had the upper hand. You knew what he called you to others — Will Graham’s favorite pet. 

Still, you didn’t mind playing along, and it seemed like Will didn’t either. You weren’t sure what that said about you, but you found it wasn’t quite as mortifying as one might expect.

“I’ll need her to…” Hannibal trailed off, gesturing at your figure.

“Strip,” Will commanded, barely glancing at you.

You did as told, eyeing the doctor peripherally. He was appraising you as well, slightly impressed at your unflinching obedience. 

You’d been well trained, after all.

You weren���t wearing much, just one of Will’s t-shirts and cotton underwear, both of which fell unceremoniously to the floor. You didn’t cover yourself as you were bared to the room, instead keeping your expression neutral and arms at your sides.

“Where do you need me?” You asked, voice low.

“Just where you are is fine,” he said, setting down his bag. “Now let’s see…”

First, he checked your pulse, fingers resting gently on your wrist as he looked down at his watch. When his fingers moved to your neck, you kept eye contact as he felt your lymph nodes, tracing up to your jaw, behind your ear and down to your collarbones.

His eyes watched your throat work as you swallowed hard, glancing at Will. Hannibal knew just how much you trusted him to guide you. You cared for him the same way he cared for you, and surrender was a price you gladly paid for it.

For a long time, you had a constant need to be in control of not just yourself, but also your surroundings. Every detail had to be accounted for; Every single possibility dissected and analyzed. It was essential for survival. 

That was until you met Will, and you grew sick and tired of control. There were no more ruins to scurry out of, or prevent. Devotion was all that was left, and that was something Hannibal could understand.

“Open your mouth, please. Let’s see these teeth,” Hannibal instructed. 

Once more, you did as told. He hummed in thought as he looked over your canines and front teeth. Then he stretched your lips back with two fingers so he could see all of your molars, too. 

“Good,” he murmured under his breath, and for a brief, wild moment, you wanted to sink your teeth into his hand. 

His thumb then swiped over your bottom lip, and it was then that you gave in to your urges. You nipped at it, holding it between your teeth for a moment.

“Ah, ah,” Will tsked, reaching over and grabbing the back of your neck firmly. 

He gave you a stern look, and you let go of Hannibal’s thumb grudgingly.

Hannibal chuckled, delighted. “Sharp, as expected. Apologies, had to coax that out of her.”

Playing with fire, you thought, figuring that was exactly what he wanted. You wondered if you’d get a better taste of him at some point.

With a stethoscope — because he took his role very seriously — he checked your heartbeat and your breathing, both of which seemed to quicken a little at his nearness.

“No need to be nervous,” he said reassuringly, but his smile told you he was very much enjoying making you feel that way.

The end of the stethoscope was cold against your flesh, which made you shudder a little. Your nipples hardened, too, which was a detail he did not miss.

A soft, pleasured hum escaped you as his fingers grazed the skin right under your breasts, his touch not entirely clinically detached.

“Quiet, now. Let the doctor do his work,” Will chastised.

For his part, Hannibal inhaled deeply, closing his eyes momentarily.

“Someone’s in heat,” he noted, sharing a look with Will. “I could take care of it, if you like.”

Will’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Hmm, that explains why she’s been humping my leg. But is it necessary?”

“You wouldn’t want to leave her unattended, would you?”

You tried not to let a traitorous blush spread across your cheeks at Will’s analyzing gaze, dipping your chin slightly in confirmation.

“I might just have to check your temperature, too,” Hannibal added, tilting his head to one side. “Could I have you bend over the couch, please?”

Will nodded towards it, and off you went, kneeling on the armrest and placing your hands on the cushion. 

You kept still as the doctor approached with slow, easy steps. His fingers traced the curve of your ass before dipping lower, to the source of your ache.

Will sat beside your head, tucking your hair behind your ear. He watched you shoot Hannibal a frustrated look as he teased you, fingers gliding up your slit. He gripped your chin just as you bared your teeth, wanting to bite once more.

Then, you swallowed back a low whine as he easily sank his middle finger into you. You heard his huff of amusement as you pushed your hips back needily.

“Running a little hot…” Hannibal mused. “We’ve got to remedy that, don’t we?”

You shot him another look, pleading this time. Your pupils were blown wide with desire, almost swallowing your irises, and your breaths came out long and slow.

You gripped one of Will’s arms, urging him towards you, desperate to touch him as well.

“Think you deserve a treat?” He murmured, raising an eyebrow. “Go on, earn it.”

Will scooted closer, your head now on his lap. You breathed in his familiar scent, and you licked his crotch through the thin fabric of his boxers.

Hannibal chuckled. “Oh, but she’s being so good…”

Will glanced up at him. “Hmm, she’s been showing off a little for you. Can’t let that become a habit.”

Hannibal’s hand retreated, and a complaint was starting to form in your throat when you heard the metallic clink of his belt, followed by the rasp of his zipper being pulled down. 

You also heard a wet pop as he sucked your arousal off his finger, loving the taste of you. Oh, he’d definitely need to try it directly from the source, too. 

“Not to worry, we’ll take good care of her,” he purred, bending closer to your ear. “Just needed some extra attention is all, didn’t you?” 

You nodded, spreading your knees further apart. Will’s hand rested on your head as you continued to lap at him. You felt him hardening against your insistent tongue, lips tracing the outline of his shaft. The smell and the heat of him were making you delirious with lust, driving any sort of coherency out the window.

Behind you, Hannibal spread you open with both hands in order to get a better look at his next meal. He knelt, pushing his slacks down and gripping himself. 

His hot breath blew against your soaked core for a mere second before he licked you clit to ass in one long, languid stripe. His expert tongue then dipped into the deep well of your cunt, and you felt the vibration of his groan.

He stroked himself as he continued his ministrations, closing his eyes as all his other senses were invaded by you.

You let out a choked whine, eyes fluttering closed as you pressed your cheek against Will’s growing bulge. He had you lift your head as he shifted his hips, pulling off his boxers and finally letting you get your reward. 

You practically melted at the taste of him as you took him into your mouth — musky and slightly salty. You knew the exact way he liked to be tended to, guiding yourself by the sounds he made.

You moaned around him, and he gathered your hair in his fist, keeping it away from your face. He kept your head down for a moment when he was all the way down your throat, and you breathed slowly through your nose. 

“There we go,” Will sighed, petting your head. “That’s it.”

Your mind went blank for a moment as Hannibal lapped up all your arousal with gusto. Will let you come up for air, gently pulling you up by the hair to meet his lips in a sloppy kiss. 

Before your head descended once more, you looked at him, glassy-eyed and smiling beatifically. The same adoration was mirrored in his eyes as he tenderly ran the back of his finger down your cheek.

“Atta girl, taking it all so well,” Hannibal praised, standing up. “I think you’re ready for me.”

He slowly eased into you, letting out a low groan as he bottomed out. You sucked in a breath, adjusting to the delicious stretch. Instinctually, you moved against him, seeking much more friction than he was currently providing.

“Don’t have to do… much of the work myself,” He grunted, grabbing your hips in a half-attempt to slow you down. “So very eager, this one.”

“Loves to please. Everything she gets, she earns,” Will said proudly. “Makes it so much better, doesn’t it?”

“Well trained indeed.”

At such an angle, you could feel Hannibal reaching impossibly deep, hitting a spot that made your eyes roll back in your skull. You moaned against Will’s skin, teeth digging lightly into his inner thigh. 

As bad as you might want it, you knew he wouldn’t let you make him come with your mouth. He was next in line after Hannibal, and he intended to leave a lasting impression. That wasn’t to say he didn’t want you to keep touching him, though. 

Hannibal’s grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder, in which he chased his release. You were already clenching him hard, close to the edge yourself. Then one of his hands reached between your legs, rubbing your clit in quick, tight circles.

Heat spread throughout you like wildfire, all-consuming. You reached back to grip one of his forearms, unsure if it was a plead for mercy or for him to never stop. It didn’t take long for you to come undone, mouth slack in pleasure as you moaned wantonly, melting into the heady feeling of them both.

Soon after, Hannibal’s hips stuttered, and then they stopped when he was fully sheathed inside of you. You could feel him pulsate as he was gripped in his own euphoria, branding you much like Will had done countless times before. 

Once more, Will kissed you, murmuring a soft good girl against your lips. Hannibal pulled out of you, panting as he bent forward to plant a kiss on your spine. 

“I think she can give us another one,” he said. “In fact, I highly recommend it.”

Will nodded in agreement. “Doctor’s orders.”

He moved you onto the couch cushions as they switched places. Hannibal presented himself before you, leaning back with a lupine sort of smirk.

Will’s thrusts were swift and savage as you licked Hannibal clean. It was only polite to tend to the doctor after being so very helpful. Your tongue was especially enthusiastic as you neared your second orgasm. 

His fingers dug into your flesh hard enough to bruise. By his more unrestrained sounds, you could tell he was right there with you. When he came, his body slumped forward, chest flush against your back.

His hot breath was against your neck as he pressed himself tighter against you. He was still buried to the hilt, making sure no drop was wasted.

When he unsheathed himself from you, you collapsed onto the couch, body spread between the two of them. You felt boneless and utterly sated, swimming in dopamine.

“Good job. That should hold you for some time, hmm?” Hannibal said, looking down at you resting on his lap.

Will huffed in amusement, caressing your legs. “You’ll find she’s quite insatiable.”

The two shared a look, all too happy to shoulder the so-called burden of your constant hunger.

“You should’ve just said you missed me, Doctor Lecter,” you said with a teasing grin. “Could’ve saved us the theatrics.”

He smirked. “Oh, but where’s the fun in that?”

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#hannibal fanfiction #hannibal smut #hannibal lecter x will graham x fem!reader #will graham x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham smut #hannibal lecter smut #hannigram x reader #minors dni

[phntmeii]

Hil

Im not sure if your taking requests for writing, but if you are I was wondering if you could do a slashers × S/O who is very strong but doesn't look it?

If that makes sense...

Like the S/O is very sweet, short and small, like she looks petite and fragile but it turns out she can easily lift extremely heavy things, or can punch really hard.

Like even harder or stronger than the slasher.

If you could specifically add Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, (NBC) Hannibal and Will, and maybe Thomas Hetwit?

Sorry I don't know if that's too much to ask for, I just love your writing so much!

Being Stronger than Slashers .

[ SFW + Fem Terms]

Pairings: Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Thomas Hewitt x petite!strong!Reader General Warnings: Descriptions of Gore/Blood, Violence, Slightly OOC, Descriptions of panic attack/episode, Manipulative behavior mention

A/N: ty anon for request <33 Back to slashers :) Sad I haven’t posted more of them literally in Halloween month but I’m working on it (last second lol) </33

Bo Sinclair

Absolutely turned on to the fucking max when he sees your strength.

Small, sweet partners was always his type. He just loves fulfilling the typical male stereotype of being a protector over his partner.

When he turned the corner, looking to finish off the last victim of the lot within his abandoned town, only to see something better.

He watched as you effortlessly were carrying the body of the victim over your shoulder like it was nothing. Head completely caved in, more of a mass of flesh and blood than an identifiable person. Your other hand held a bloodied hammer.

Bo was completely still, but not of fear. He was standing there like a man who had completely re-fallen in love again.

His eyes were shining as his grin grew wide. Approaching, he was nothing but prideful.

His voice was light with a chuckle, thumb brushing away the blood on your cheek. “Shit, sweetheart… Never knew a pretty girl like you was so… strong. I love it.”

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent was overprotective a lot of the time. He was insistent you were never near his work nor would you be involved when victims were in town.

He loved you too much to have you a part of him and his brothers’ work.

Vincent was slightly startled, hearing the door of his studio open. He knew both his brothers were out.

Seeing it was you, he approached, silently looking down at you. You could tell there was an air of disappointment at you being in his studio when he didn’t want you to be.

A ragged, strained voice spoke from behind his mask, “Why?”

With a shrug of your shoulders and a smile, you walked past him, further into the studio. “Bo said he needed a box in here.”

Watching you walk past, his eyes were hidden but widened as he watched you easily lift up a heavy table to look under it, scrolling past the items underneath it.

He approached confused but didn’t stop you. “Oh! Here it is!” Your arms held up a filled box of tools and parts.

Vincent followed you around curiously for the rest of the day like a shadow. He was completely fascinated by your strength, wanting to see it again.

Once you returned from helping Bo, Vincent couldn't let go of you. He kept his arms around you, head on your shoulder. His quiet, strained voice simply said, "Show me again... Please?"

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal always held an air of curiosity about you. Your sweet nature was like an untainted part of his life. A woman so far from himself.

Hannibal’s curiosity was never-ending. He took advantage of his intelligence to learn as much as he could. Stalking, Manipulative behaviors in “therapy”, etc.

You were almost always at his place. He liked it better that way although it provided some maintenance when it came to his extracurricular activities.

Hannibal had been making another of his fancy dinners for the two of you. The presentation had to be precise and perfect. Presentation was half the work for him.

He absentmindedly spoke while you were cutting vegetables beside him, “I have not set the chairs. I will do so in a moment, my love.”

Immediately, you wanted to assist. You always liked helping out. “I’ve got it!”

Watching you walk away, he expected to finish his current task before going off to assist you. Instead, he looked up to the doorway to see you easily walking past with a heavy wooden chair in each hand, easily carrying the two like they were just a stack of papers.

A small smirk curled at his lips as his hands slowed in their work. He whispered to himself, knowing his eager curiosity was not wasted, “You are… a delight, my love. You will make for something truly wonderful.”

Will Graham

Will was someone who was vigilant and aware. His mind always raced a million miles an hour with tiny observations and connections.

There was something about you but he just couldn’t place it.

But, what was there to prove? You were sweet and kind, seeming so far from what he knew. That was part of why he held love for you—You weren’t him.

Will was in his head again, silently panicked by his own mind. It was torturous to live in a prison of his own violent thoughts.

You were someone who always noticed. Always could pick up when these episodes started.

Holding his hands and speaking sweetly to him to draw him back to reality, unfortunately, wasn’t working this time.

His eyes kept darting back and forth while his breath quickened. With him standing still, quivering, you had to make the choice.

With simple ease, you picked Will up bridal style, walking away with him.

It took him a moment to realize what happened, breaking out of being inside his head. His eyes just stared at you when he was placed onto his bed, sweat drenching his forehead.

He broke out into a small smile, absentmindedly licking his lips, as was his habit. "I... didn't know you could do that."

"Is it a bad thing?"

"No. It's... really attractive, actually."

Thomas Hewitt

Tommy was always a protector. Toward his family, it was evident. A given. Toward you, it was an inherent need.

The last thing he'd ever want is for you to be hurt, especially when victims come around.

He would lead you and Luda Mae into a room, having you two barricade it while him and Hoyt took care of the unfortunate victims who made their way to the wrong home.

You waited, albeit anxiously. And it only grew once you heard a loud thud followed by Hoyt's yelling.

"Goddammit, Tommy! The fuck are you doin'?"

Immediately you knew something went wrong. Despite Luda Mae trying to keep you in the room, you ripped away the makeshift barricade on the door and rushed out.

Tommy was on all fours, holding the side of his head. A man, you assumed one of the few victims, held a hammer in his hand. He quivered holding it, as if horrified by his own self-defense.

Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest chair, pulling back and cracking it hard against the man. Aimed for his head, he dropped to the floor unconscious by the impact.

You rushed over to Tommy's side, panicked. "Tommy! Tommy! God- Are you okay?"

His arm just instinctively shot out and held you to his body, protecting you in his mind. He opened his eyes and looked past you to see the victim with broken wooden pieces of the chair on top of him.

With his mask on, his expression was hidden. But inside, his heart warmed at how you were strong enough to protect him too. His own protector.

#slasher fucker #slashers x reader #slasher headcanons #slasher x reader #slashers #slashers headcanons #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt headcanons #thomas hewitt x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #vincent sinclair headcanons #vincent sinclair x reader

[a-small-safe-place]

New Addition

Platonic!Yandere Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham w/ Child!Reader

You knocked on the door of the large house Hannibal had picked out for him and Will to live in. It was out of the way from the town, so it was odd to receive a knock. Luckily, it was Will that answered rather than Hannibal. The other kids in town said the men who lived in this house liked to kidnap badly behaving girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel. But this man didn’t seem scary. He seemed nice as he scolded their dogs for running out of the house.

“Hello, mister, I’m selling chocolate-covered pretzel sticks for my school and wanted to see if you would like to buy one?” You asked, trying to sound confident but sounding shaky instead. He didn’t seem to mind; he seemed happy you were there. “I happen to love chocolate-covered pretzels, but my husband thinks they are too simple to be a good treat. Let’s see what flavors you have.” He begins looking through the flavors you brought when his husband, Hannibal, silently walks up behind the other man. “Who is this?” He asks Will.

“Oh, this is… uh…” You stop him and introduce yourself and again explain why you are there. “This is quite a ways away from the town; surely you did not walk all the way here.” Hannibal questions. “No, sir, I rode my bike. I knew there were a few houses out this way, and I was determined to visit.”

Your determination pleases Hannibal but slightly concerns him. You’re an innocent child. You can’t be out riding your bike on these secluded roads. Will quits digging in the pretzel box, “I have to go get dog food anyway; I could bring you back to town. We will take the whole box of your pretzels since you came all this way out here.” Hannibal seems mildly annoyed by this. You remember that Will said Hannibal thinks they are too simple. Will leaves you alone with Hannibal to grab some cash. “Would you like to step inside? You’ll get sick out there.” Hannibal asks. You gratefully step in. “Your home is pretty.” You observe, earning a soft approving smile from Hannibal.

“Thank you, not many people your age appreciate style. Though you don’t seem like many people your age.” After he finishes talking, you try to stay quiet, and finally, Will returns, giving you the money for your entire box of pretzels. “Now I’m heading into town; would you like a ride?” Will offers. “Yes, please.” You tell him.

The ride back is quiet until he begins to talk. “Most kids avoid our house for their fundraisers. Do you know why?” You glance nervously, “I think it’s just too far.” It’s an obvious lie. “You don’t have to worry about being polite. I know there’s probably a crazy rumor about Hannibal and me.” You stay silent, but the silence is too loud to handle, “All the kids think you and Dr. Lecter like to kidnap and girls and boys and eat them up like the witch in Hansel and Gretel.”

“Well, maybe that’s why I needed all those sweet pretzels, so Dr. Lecter and I could finish building our cottage made of candy.” He seems a little sad at the revelation of this rumor. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have said anything.” He smiles and says, “Don’t worry about it. You could make it up to me by telling me how this rumor got started.”

“One of the boys that graduated high school last year told his little brother that he broke into your home on a dare and found human meat in the freezer, but he couldn’t go to the police because he was trespassing and he was high.” You finish explaining. Will smiles a bit, but it has a nervous edge this time, “Do you think we eat bad girls and boys?” You think about it, “no, because you had a bunch of times where you could have killed and eaten me.”

“Are you a bad kid?” Will asks teasingly. “I don’t know. I get in trouble sometimes. My house is in town away, in a trailer park.” Will knew which trailer park. It was “the bad part of town” he knew because he saw the crime statistics for that area and the number of times the cops are called out there. He had seen them the few times he and Hannibal helped with the local law. Hannibal had gotten close with the town’s political figures, and Will had basically been made into an honorary detective with the law enforcement. This town was corrupt to its core, but it was away from the prying eyes of the FBI, and it’s the only place Hannibal and Will could agree on geographically. Will’s only stipulation was that there were good places to fish.

Eventually, you make it to the trailer. Will waits until you make it inside. He cannot help but think about Abigail. He could have had a potential family with Hannibal if things had gone correctly. He was happy with Hannibal and the dogs, but something about you made him want more.

Weeks pass, and he does not bring the topic up to Hannibal. Little did he know Hannibal had been keeping an extra close eye on you. He did it under the guise of getting more pretzels for Will and then special ordering one of the unique flavors that you did not have so he could come back around to "check on the order." Will finds this all out when you see him in the store and give him the order Hannibal had placed.

"That kid from the other day gave me the order you placed," Will says placing the box on the table. "I thought you hated junk food."

"I do; they were a surprise for you. You seem to have taken a liking to the child." Hannibal observes. "They're a good kid. They kind of remind me of Abigail." The room becomes silent for a second too long. Hannibal hates it when Will brings up Abigail. "You seem to like the kid too. You went out of your way to find them to order the pretzels when there were plenty of easier options to order from." Hannibal knows he has been caught.

"They're a well-behaved child, very polite. Like Abigail." Hannibal says somewhat pointedly. "Have you thought about us expanding our family? Not with another dog, but with a human?" Hannibal asks before Will has time to respond to the first statement.

"I hadn't, and then that kid came knocking at the door, and since then, it is all I can think about. But I don't want any kid. Our kid from the trailer park seems to be the best fit; it has to be them." Will explains, hoping that Hannibal will understand.

"Then so be it; they will be our child for us to protect," Hannibal says as if this is a normal conversation.

As the two men begin to work on a plan to add you to their family, their fatherly love for you grows more into fatherly obsession. You're their kid; no one gets to hurt you. Once you're safe and comfortable in their home, no one but them will get to be around you until they know you love them just as much. Hannibal wastes no time putting your room together with all of your favorite things. They were going to make your room the same way it is in the trailer until Hannibal saw the state of your room and became disgusted by the idea of that kind of room being in his expensive house.

Will tries to make a plan to make your transition to their house easier. He finds all kinds of games and activities you are sure to love, even the ones that Hannibal is convinced are bad for your growing brain.

#yandere platonic #platonic yandere #platonic #yandere family #yandere will graham #yandere hannibal lecter #hannibal x will #platonic will graham #platonic hannibal lecter #child!reader #gender neutral reader #fem!reader #male!reader #yandere will graham and hannibal lecter #father and child #yandere dad #yandere parents #soft yandere

[softieekayy]

Intertwined

Hannibal Lecter x reader

Word count: 1.8k

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

#hannibal #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #mads mikkelsen #will graham #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal x reader fluff #hannibal fluff #Hannibal Lecter fluff #Hannibal Lecter one shot #hannibal lecter imagine

[rose-lunaire]

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)

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

#hannibal x reader #hannibal imagine #nbc hannibal #will graham #will graham x reader #murder husbands #yandere hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal reactions #bedelia du maurier #hannibal preferences #hannibal headcanons #hannibal fluff #hannibal #mads mikkelsen

[ficnation]

Chapter 10: The Big Bad Wolf

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

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His response is almost immediate. “Precisely.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is your social worker in that horse?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will…” you mumble breathlessly.

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

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

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

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

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

“Peter’s confused.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It doesn’t have to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist (I tag ppl that leave a comment or ask me for it): @strrvnge @raininhell @crowsoundsonly @gabriella-aesthetic @gayschlatt69 @russian-soft-bitch @lokittyy @hellouseemc00l @justaproudslytherpuff @it-s-tickety-booh @r4diocabeca @sanriogarbage @zoleea-exultant @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @emily-roberts @unsolvedghoulboyz @00hellohello00 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @jadenblueberry @slashercupcake @octobermania @magdalenmillicent-blog @unsolvedghoulboyz @gabbyonjupiter @lanklr @oliviathecat06 @fatkissers

#hannibal nbc #hannibal #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter #will graham x reader #will graham x hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x will graham #will graham #eat your heart out #murder husbands #hannigram #hannibal lecter

[wolfish-nightmares]

The Four Faces of Death

Pairings: Hannigram x reader x Collectkin 

Warnings: violence, gore, bad language, sex, cannibalism, 18+

Category: Angst, fluff? Smut.

Summary: Your life is shattered and changed between the hands of four of the most dangerous killers. 

Silentium Est Aureum - Silence is golden in the black eyes of death

Mortem Obire - Death is always the hardest to face.

Deus Pascit Corvos -

Semper Invictus -

#nbc hannibal #the collector #the collection #hannibal lecter #will graham #asa emory #arkin o'brien #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter #arkin o'brien x reader #asa emory x reader #the collector x reader #hannigram x reader #collectkin x reader #hannigram x reader x collectkin #i laugh every time #i tag #tw cannibalism #on a hannibal fic #but i will #the four faces of death

[semiweirdshipper]

Slashers as fathers with a child/reader.

Notes: 100% NON-ROMANTIC. Platonic love only. Non-binary reader. The reader is less than ten years old (you decide the age). Freddy is alive and NOT a pedophile. (If you wanna ship Hannibal and Will together or view them as just friends, it's completely up to you).

Summary: The slasher fathers comforting their child/reader after they just got home from surgery.

Some of you are probably thinking "really, Weirdo? This is gonna be a thing now?" And my answer is absolutely! Hey, when you grow up in a rough environment, some times you just wanna immerse yourself into a reality where you're innocent, happy, safe, accepted and loved. And so thus I present these fatherly slasher drabbles. I hope they bring you peace and happiness.

Freddy

After you got home from your surgery, Freddy hadn't been prepared for just how emotional and clingy you would become, but he didn't mind, and he learned how to adjust straight away. He had already called into work to report a few days off so that he could provide you with extensive care.

Not once had you left his side. All day you had been attached to him, whimpering and groaning in small remnants of pain. It tugged at his heart and made him feel even more protective than what he already was. If only he could take your pain and fear away.

He had been tending to your needs all day. Fixing you sippy cups filled with broth since you couldn't eat whole foods yet. Holding you against his chest so that he could kiss your forehead and rub your back while mumbling loving reassurances to you. Coloring pictures and watching cartoons with you.

"Daddy... Do you love me?" You asked for what felt like the thousandth time.

Freddy, helping to make a wall of pillows around the edge of the bed, looked to you and said, "More than anything, sweetie. You are my world. You know that."

You whimpered, hugging a pillow against your chest. You were hurting, and you couldn't help but to seek reassurance from him. "You won't leave me... right?" You look to him sadly.

Freddy walked over to you and knelt down, cupping your cheeks and leaning in to kiss your head. "Never. Daddy will always be here for you no matter what. You hear me?"

Nodding, you frown a bit and stare down at the floor, "Yes, but I... I'm so scared, daddy, I-I don't wanna go back there again."

"I know," He spoke softly, gently squeezing your shoulder, "And you're not going to, alright? It's over. You don't have to go back. You're here with daddy now. Everything's gonna be alright, ok?"

"Ok," You whisper.

Freddy coaxed the pillow from your arms and pulled you in for a hug, "I love you, baby. More than anything. You know that, right?"

"I love you more, daddy," You smile big, soaking up his loving attention like a sponge.

Freddy pulled away and made a goofy thinking face, his eyes squinting at you, "Mm... Couldn't possibly. Now, let's get you in bed."

Smiling in joy at your giggles, Freddy made sure to be extra gentle with you while helping you to climb onto the bed. After shutting the lights off, he climbed in with you, barely laying on his back before you were snuggling right into his side.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, wrapping an arm around you, his fingers massaging through your hair against your head.

It felt nice and had you whimpering in soothing relaxation, "Hurts..."

"It'll feel better soon, sweetie," Freddy kissed your temple and pulled a blanket over both of you.

"Please don't let those scary people take me again," You mumble into his chest, your hands shaking a bit as you fought against crying, "Please."

"No one's going to take you, (y/n)," Freddy smiled a bit, fond of your adorable little fears. "You're home now and you're with me, and I'm gonna take good care of you until you feel better, alright?"

"Ok, daddy," You say softly, seeking comfort and safety by snuggling into his chest.

Freddy covered you up and cradled you against him. It broke his heart knowing that you were in pain, but he would always be there to comfort and love you no matter what.

Bo Sinclair + Uncle Vincent and Lester

Throughout the whole day after your dad brought you home from the hospital, you had taken turns latching onto him and your two uncles. You were very clingy and emotional, endlessly seeking their comfort, security and reassurance.

At work, Lester and Bo took turns running the gas station. Right now Lester sat in the bed of his truck, reclined against the side with you curled up in his lap, a blanket covering you as you both peacefully snoozed.

"Hey, Les? Hey, wake up," Someone demanded in a whisper tone, a hand nudging his shoulder.

Lester woke up with a groan, his arms tightening around you as he creaked open his eyes. When he saw who had interrupted his beauty sleep, he pouted and shook his head, whispering, "Aw, c'mon now. Don't ya got nothin' better to do?"

"If by 'better' ya mean spendin' some time with my child? Then yeah, I most certainly do," Bo reached in to pry his brother's arms off of you, "Now get your ass in there. Mans waitin' on his transmission."

"Lester do this, Lester do that," Lester mocked quietly, sticking his tongue out and glaring at his older sibling, "'I'm a killjoy who thinks he can boss everyone 'round jus' 'cause I got cool lookin' hair'"

"You don't shut your trap, an' I'm gonna-"

"Mm, daddy?" You roused from Lester's lap, your body immediately tensing as you practically jumped upwards in fear, "Daddy? Wh-what's going on? What's happening? Y-you're not taking me back, are you? Oww..."

"Whoa, hey now," Both Bo and Lester nearly bumped heads trying to hug you.

Lester was the one who won, sitting up straight with his legs hanging over the tailgate, "Hey now, critter bug, ya can't be movin' 'round like that. You'll hurt yourself."

"That's right," Bo stood in front of you and Lester, one hand reaching out to cup your reddened face, "An' quit thinkin' we're gonna take ya back. We ain't. Your surgery is over with. Ya don't needa' be worrying yourself no more, alright?"

You were teary eyed, one hand holding your stitched up, bandaged wound as you nod. "It was jus' so scary... And it hurts."

The little crackle of sadness in your voice broke both Lester and Bo's hearts. "I know, critter, I know. But you're gonna feel better soon, ok?" Bo went to pry Lester's hands away so that he could gently hold you against his chest, "Jus' focus on daddy's heartbeat, remember? It'll make everything better."

"My heartbeat could'a worked..." Lester grumbled, crossing his arms.

You whimpered while doing as he said, your little hands holding onto his neck as your head rested against his chest. You breathed in his comforting, familiar scent and listened to his heartbeat, feeling it thud against your upper body. It felt nice. You were safe and cozy. The pain from your surgery subsided.

"I... I wanna feel Uncle Les' heartbeat too," You say.

"Awww, thought ya'd never ask," Lester grinned and went to hug you from behind, his hands going to rest on Bo's waist.

"Eh-eh, wh-whoa-wait jus' a minute-I..." Bo's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he growled in frustration, but hearing the laughter it roused from you put a small smile on his face. He loves you more than anything, (y/n), and he'll always, always be there for you.

Michael + Aunt Laurie

Ever since you got out of the hospital, you had been attached to him like velcro. Off and on you would have emotional spells, complaining about pain and how scary the experience was. Michael knew that the doctors had technically helped you, but he still kind of just wanted to, you know... Throttle them. Just a little?

Right now he was sitting on the couch with you sitting sideways on his lap. You were reclined back against his arm, your head tilted forward a bit as he held your sippy-cup to your mouth like a mother would hold a bottle of milk out for her baby. Laurie had explained to him how some children who had surgery often acted younger than what they were due to the trauma of the experience.

But Michael didn't mind babying you. In fact he really enjoyed it. It comforted you and it was extremely endearing to him- reminding him of when you were younger. So helpless, small and vulnerable. He would do anything to protect you and keep you safe.

"Mm?" You tap on your dad's hand.

Michael pulled the sippy cup away and blinked at you, wondering what was wrong.

"I'm sleepy. Can we do the jacket thing again, please?" You ask, nuzzling against his chest and mumbling, "It's been forever."

Oh yes. The 'jacket thing'. Michael nodded, setting your sippy-cup aside and going to coax you off his lap. Because of your stitches, he didn't want to carry you around too much despite every overprotective cell in his body screaming at him to keep you as close to him as possible, and he held your hand on the way to his bedroom.

Fetching the very large jacket from the closet, Michael put it on and went to lay back on the bed after helping you climb aboard. Then you went to lay on top of him, your hands looping underneath his upper arms as your face lay comfortably against his chest. Once you were situated, Michael stretched the jacket over the top of you and zipped it up most of the way, clasping you both securely together.

This was a habit Michael had started ever since you were an infant. He would use jackets to hold you close to his chest, obsessed with keeping you safe and secure at all times. He couldn't help it. He had experience with so many bad people. The thought of leaving you unguarded for even a second drove him crazy with anxiety.

"Daddy?" You murmur against his chest, "Did I do something bad? Is that why I have to hurt?"

Michael shook his head. His hands quickly went to cup your face, his fingers brushing through your hair. No. Of course not. Why would you ask something like that?

"Then why? Why did I have to-" You hiccuped, pushing yourself against him as much as you could as if he were a safety fort of pillows.

"Because you had a blockage, honey," Laurie explained as she brought you your freshly made sippy-cup and Michael a glass of water, "And some times stuff like that happens to people. It doesn't mean that you did anything bad."

Michael looked to his sister with gratitude. Gratitude that fell into irritation when she pulled her over-stuffed camera out and quickly took a picture of the two of you. "Yep, that one's going on the fridge."

Rolling his eyes, Michael brushed your face before lifting his hands to explain to you through sign-language how he was sorry that you had to go through this, but him and Laurie were right here beside you and they were going to do their best to make sure that you were taken care of.

Hannibal + Will

Will knocked on the door. Whenever it opened he was met with a sight that had his mouth gaping. Hannibal stood there, his hair messy, his tie uneven, his vest crooked, and his shoes gone. His eyes had dark circles beneath them, but even then his expression was calm and full of understanding.

"Good evening, Will. Thank you for coming," He whispered, inviting him in.

"So... It's that bad, huh?" Will whispered back, eying your sleeping figure from where it was being held against Hannibal's waist, "They okay? And-uh... Are 'you' okay?"

"The surgery went well. (y/n) was released earlier this afternoon. Aside from some discomfort and pain, they have been... 'Attached'," Hannibal chuckled fondly, turning to give your snoozing self a loving stare, "As for me? Well, I haven't used the restroom in over eight hours, give or take."

"Wow, ok," Will nodded and went to lift his arms out, "Yeah. You go use the restroom and shower if you want- probably throw in a glass or two of wine while you're at it, and I'll just-yeah, I'll just take them for a bit."

"Thank you, Will," Hannibal said gratefully, carefully transporting you over to his best friend, "Be gentle with them."

"I will," Will nodded, gently holding you against his chest and rocking you softly, "We'll be waiting for you on the couch."

"Thank you," Hannibal bowed slightly in tremendous appreciation and politely dismissed himself to go use the restroom, shower and change. Thank goodness he had Will. Will was your second favorite person besides him, and he figured that if you were to wake up then you might not mind being not-attached to him for a bit.

And it's not that Hannibal minded you being attached. Not at all. He just needed some time to get himself cleaned up properly. He couldn't do that when you refused to let go of his arm.

This whole day had been a fiasco. You were unbelievably emotional after the surgery, constantly fearing being taken back, and complaining about the pain. You were so afraid and uncomfortable that you even apologized to him and promised to never do anything bad- even though you hadn't done anything bad in the first place- just as long as he never took you back there again.

And that's why you clung to him so strongly. You sought his constant praise, reassurance and security, and he had supplied it in generous amounts. All day he had tended to your needs; feeding you, reading to you, holding you close and watching movies. Anything to make you happy.

By the time Hannibal had showered, downed some beverage and changed into something more comfortable, he walked into his living room and felt his heart get struck with warmth by what he saw.

You were sitting in Will's lap, your tired eyes calmly watching the TV as you sucked your thumb. On the table sat some take-out from one of Hannibal's favorite restaurants- obviously ordered by Will. Buh-bye midnight cooking.

Will locked eyes with him before you did, and Hannibal took the chance to quickly mouth something to him.

When you noticed him, you gasped happily and reached out for him, "Daddy!"

"Hello my little lamb, how are you feeling?" He asked, sitting in the space beside Will. He was humbled that you didn't try to get out of his lap straight away.

"Okay," You say softly, looking up at Will who leaned down and peppered playful kisses against your head, "Will said you were stinky and that you needed to potty."

"Did he?" Hannibal cocked his head at his best friend.

Will laughed in fondness. Hannibal joined him, so very appreciative of him and his support. And he was also appreciative of you for listening to him and understanding. All three of you loved each other so much. It was such a beautiful family circle.

...

I doubt anyone will answer, but it's just a fun question... Are there any other slashers that you would like to see be written as a father figure?

#slashers #slasher fanfiction #slasher x reader #freddy krueger x reader #bo sinclair x reader #michael myers x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #Platonic love only #no romantic relationships #Father and child relationship #reader insert #child reader #Slashers as dads #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair #will graham #laurie strode #Hannigram if you squint

[angelf1re]

Hannigram with a silent s/o

Hannibal and Will first met you at a crime scene after you scared them. You were there to photograph evidence, and you ended up accidentally sneaking up on them.

Will almost had a heart attack when you tapped on his shoulder.

Hannibal kept his eye on you as you worked, noticing how silent you were even when talking.

Will was impressed, usually no one can sneak up on him easily, so when you did he was surprised.

Eventually Will worked up the courage to talk to you. With Hannibal by his side of course.

You were extremely polite, offering to show them some pictures you took when they asked about your job.

Hannibal offered dinner at his place, and you accepted.

Hannibal made sure not to use a lot of human meat when preparing your dish, but used some in his and Wills.

You showed up in one of your best outfits, an expensive bottle of wine in your hands.

Hannibal let you in while Will set the table.

You walked behind Hannibal, silent as ever as you looked around slightly.

Safe to say, Will was surprised when you walked into the dining room.

Will set the table, smiling at you slightly when he set your plate down in front of you.

You were quiet throughout dinner, only speaking when spoken too and keeping your answers short and simple, but informative.

Eventually the dinner came to an end and you had to go home.

After that, you kept coming over for dinner, each and every time Hannibal invited you, you accepted.

After the 10th or 11th dinner Will and Hannibal asked you to be theirs, and you accepted shyly.

about a month after dating you moved in by Will’s request.

They noticed that you loved exploring the house, and so they never stopped you when you did, but you always managed to sneak up on them.

Eventually, Will ordered little bells to sew onto your clothes to help keep track of you.

You still manage to sneak up on them sometimes when you find a piece of clothing that doesn’t have a bell on it.

They love you, but hate how silent you can be.

#hannigram #x reader #Hannigram x reader #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #will graham

[differentlovelover]

I would never hurt you

Hannigram x reader

A/n:I'm finishing up this show and I just adore these two characters alot- I mean who doesn't love them?!!!

Prompt- reader got a glimpse of Hannibal's actual meat he cooks. Will and Hannibal having to calm her down easing her mind.

Cw: mentions of frozen body part,cussing, breakdowns,passing out

You find yourself wondering how you really got into this situation. You Hannibal and will are now living together and now you three are in a polyamorous relationship as well. Well for starters you and will met from the murder of your ex boyfriend, you soon grew a interest in him only because of his psychic powers you called it at first but he was more then that. Soon he asked you if you needed therapy for the trauma and that's how you met Hannibal! The rest is History really. But today was the day your realized...do I actually know my lovers?

You found yourself mopping then you got to the door. The door Hannibal told you don't worry about nor touch because it's his private room. You looked around then at the door as you reached in the lamp next to it and get the key out then opens the door. You walk in to look around as you see a freezer and some cutting instruments too. You walk over as you look at it carefully then at the freezer as you open it and pick up the packet. You stare at it in fear as you drop it and back up fast to run out only to run into Hannibal's chest face first "what are you doing in here Y/n?" His calm face stayed put but his eyes glimpse of anger. You look up at him as you shake your head panicking as you run past him and out the room.

"y/n let's talk about this darling what did you see?" Hannibal followed after you. You shakily go into the study "w-will w-we need to go! Please I'm begging you!" You cry to him as you grab his hand. He narrows his eyebrows "what? What happened" he stands "h-he has h-he has a heart-" you blinked as you look behind you to see him. Will sighs "y/n..hey hey" he pulls you into his arms caressing your head. Hannibal looked at will then at you as he observed. "I know your scared y/n..but why would he hurt you after all this time?" Will raised his eyebrow. You look at him as you mumble "w-what?" "I mean come on" he sighs gently wiping your tears "he would of been killed you." "W-will I dont-' i- don't understand?" You shake your head. He mumbles "how about you rest and we will talk when your more calm" he nods at hannibal.

You turn as Hannibal grabs you and push a cloth over your face. You fight it until the sleep takes over you. Hannibal stares down at you as he sighs gently "to soon darling."Hannibal says as Will walks over and rubs your cheek gently. He picks up your legs as Hannibal lays you down in there shared bed. Hannibal looked over at you as you rested. Will mumbles "she will be okay. I'm sure she would understand..just like Abigail did" he watched you as you layed there. Hannibal nods gently looking down at you as he rubs your cheek.

"I would never hurt you."

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