#and not only does hannibal smile

[thedarkmongoose]

when will finally tells hannibal ilu

#and not only does hannibal smile #he immediately goes into #'no greater love hath man than to lay down his life for a fRiEnD' #second time is the 'it's beautiful' #before will pushes them off a cliff #clown 2 clown #hannigram #hannibal meta #hannibal x will #hannibal lecter #hannibal #will graham #murder husbands #nbc hannibal #hannibal nbc #The Wrath of the Lamb #meta

[gemstone-roses]

Keep me warm

Summary: reader is terrified of storms, soaking wet, she shows up at hannibals door, terrified and needing comfort. Size kink. Cock warming.

Warnings: 18 plus only. NSFW, descriptions of a panic attack, cock warming, size kink, smut, hurt/comfort. You know the drill.

A:N- thankyou for requesting this I have been thinking about this scenario ever since! Hope your okay! Much love ❤️. I know you said you'd be fine with hc but you get a whole fic instead🥰 also I got rained on so much last week and now I'm full of cold I HATE this time of year ugh. I hope you like this I really do 🥰🥰

This might be one of my favourite things I've written.

You regret every decision you've made leading up to this point.

Grey clouds gather above you, you look up, wincing.

You thought you could make it home before the rain. Only wearing a light jacket, definitely not equipped for the kind of weather about to unleash on your head.

Fuck you whisper, hands clenching as thunder rolls in.

You shove your jacket off and hold it above your head in a pathetic attempt to retain at least a bit of dignity. You know you can't make it home with the storm, your anxiety already heightening with every crack you hear.

But you can make it to hannibal.

He's the only one who knew of your fear. Having to reveal it one day when you were both on the way to a crime scene.

The rain falls hard on the front of the car, wipers working overtime to clear it, your amazed hannibal can even see through the haze of rain. Your breath hitches as you hear the beginnings of a storm. You hoped he didn't notice. But this is hannibal. Of course he did. He glances over at you, sees your chest heaving and pulls over.

"Y/N" he says softly, shifting in his seat to face you.

But the rain is coming down so fast and hard and it's like you can feel it, in your soul. Your head spins as you try and take a deep breath. Hannibal places his hand on your thigh and squeezes, once again calling your name. When you don't look at him, he reaches out and grips your chin gently.

His face is flooded with concern

"I- can't

You push your hand into your chest, trying to ease the weight that's settled there.

"I know, I know, y/n, keep your eyes on me, okay?" Hannibal soothes.

You force yourself to keep looking at him, his big hand still rests cupping your chin, applying a slight pressure.

"Good" he smiles, hannibal weighs up the options in his head. Getting out of the car is out of the question, and he asks "do you trust me?" And you nod, so hannibal unclips your belt and says "Come here" before pulling you onto his lap. He immediately holds you tight, pushing you into his chest. "It'll be over soon my love" he soothes as he holds you against him. You can hear his heart beat as you lay on him, and eventually it calms you.

By the time you knock frantically at his door, your positively soaking wet, teeth chattering, tears blending in with the rain running down your face.

Hannibal opens the door and your hit instantly with a wall of warm. His brow furrows in concern as he takes in your state.

"S-storm" you mutter, looking down at the floor before you feel two hands wrap around your waist and pull you into the house.

Hannibal immediately pulls you into his embrace, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You shrink into his embrace, his presence beginning to melt away the fear you felt.

Shivers rack your body, cold setting in, hannibal holds you tighter.

'I've got you' he says.

"Come on, let's get you warmed up hm?" His hand comes to cup your face as he speaks.

He leads you to the lounge, where the fire is roaring.

"Let's get out of those wet clothes my love" he says, his hands rest lightly on your waist. Waiting.

You look at him, his eyes blown wide, hannibal swallows visibly.

"Would you like me to leave while you change?" He asks.

"No" you whisper.

Hannibal lifts your soaking shirt over your head. His breath catches in his throat as he does, lips parted slightly as he takes you in.

You slip out of your pants just as hannibal places the dry shirt over your head. It falls just below your knees.

Hannibal runs his fingers over your neck "you, are exquisite" he says, slightly breathless.

Heat rises to your face, warming you. Your still shivering slightly though, and hannibal of course, notices.

"Come here" he whispers, sitting down on the sofa and pulling you on top of him.

You let out a moan as you feel his cock against you, sitting deliciously against your core.

Hannibals cock hardens even more at the noise you made.

"Your still colder than I'd like darling" he says seriously, running his hands up and down your exposed thigh.

"Mm" is all you manage to say.

"I was working on my memory palace, when you knocked"

"M sorry" you mutter, ducking your head.

Hannibal tuts, lifting your chin to look at him.

"No, do not apologise, but, I do need to finish my thoughts" he says as his cock twitches.

"How about we stay like this until I'm done hm? And then I'll cook and you can spend the night?" He asks.

You nod.

"Words, darling" hannibal says sternly.

"Yes" you breathe out.

You shift slightly, his clothed cock pushing against you making you drip with need.

Hannibal grips your hips and stills you.

"Not until I'm finished" he grins. Before pushing you back slightly so he can free his cock from his pants.

You watch in awe as his thick cock springs up against his stomach.

Hannibal places his hands back on your hips before guiding you to sit on his cock.

You close your eyes, pleasure overtaking you as he sinks inside.

"No my love, you keep your eyes on me" he says, his voice gravelly.

"Hanni, please" you whisper, his cock filling you stretching you so good.

He ignores you. Continuing his thoughts as he twitches his cock every now and then inside you.

He keeps one hand gripping your chin, looking at him as you warm his cock.

"You feel so good, sitting on my cock like this, so perfect" he says.

Your chest heaves at his words.

"M so full, please, I need you" you choke out, feeling every ridge of his cock inside you, he pushed himself up on the couch slightly, causing him to hit another spot inside you.

"Fuck" you cry out.

Hannibal smirks, before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him. He begins to trace small patterns on your back.

"Hanni, it feels so good" you whisper into his chest, clenching around him.

"I know my love, just a bit longer I promise, your doing so well for me".

You whine at his words, and hannibal keeps talking to you like that, you relax into him, his cock still snug inside you as he holds you, warming you up, as you warm his cock.

#hannibal x reader #hannibal hurt/comfort #hannibal imagine #hannibal smut #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagine #hannibal lecter smut

[coryosbaby]

You fog up my brain, you make me insane… Hannibal Lecter x fem! Reader

Synopsis: examining your shared obsession

content warning . 18+, MDNI oral fixations, codependency, heavy biting kink, mentions of cannibalism. Blood, teeth, and body worship

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Hannibal opens his mouth for her whenever she asks. Nimble, soft padded fingertips touch the tip of his tongue and move even further. Over his teeth, the expanse of his gums. She rubs her tongue over her own canines in retaliation. The urge to bite into him is so incredibly chastising.

She almost does it, a few times. When his throat is close, she leaves a few marks. Her teeth sink into him and leave a clear indent, though she vows never to reveal muscle, blood, or bone. Her hands run through his hair, and she douses her own in his shampoo when she’s in the shower. His nails are clipped short; she bites hers clear down to the nub. He tells her to kiss him, and she does— teeth biting his lip, tongue roaming that mouth she loves oh so much. Close to drawing blood, but not quite.

Until he tells her to. One mindless, rainy night, her body is sprawled out on top of his, thighs on either side of his hips. The ribbon in her hair is the only thing you could consider covering her. And him, the rings adorning his fingers. His bare chest is enticing, and she leaves sweet lipstick prints along the skin. He soothes her heated neck with his hand, proving coolness and relief. She runs her blunt nails through the hair peppering his chest.

“I want to crawl inside your skin and never leave.” She mumbles, her face nuzzling him.

He doesn’t find this to be scary, or vile. He feels exactly the same way, and nods along. He trails a finger up her hip and back down again.

“I would let you,” and then, as his nose moves up to nuzzle her own, “you’re special.”

Her lashes flutter and she sighs in content. His arms wrap around her back and he pulls her down to his lips. When he kisses her, it’s on the cheeks, forehead, and nose.

“My special girl.”

A small smile, pouty lips kissing him right back. She grabs his much larger hand into her own, presses his wrist to her lips and feels the heartbeat underneath the skin.

He licks his lips and guides her hand to his torso, settling right above his navel.

“Bite me here,” he murmurs, and she lets out a tiny squeak.

“What?”

“Here. Bite me here, I want to feel your teeth.”

She can never deny him, and she would never dare question him. She moves lower so her head is face to face with his waist. Her teeth scrape against his flesh, tasting sweat and skin.

Hannibal. She tastes Hannibal.

She bites, hard. The older man below her lets out a groan, feeling her break the skin and draw red rivulets of blood, finally.

She’s no vampire, of course. But his blood fills something in her— a completion. A promise.

When she pulls away, her teeth are red. The large indentation on his skin makes her rut down against his thigh. Her fingers slip against the wound as she adjusts— a happy little accident. She presses them into his mouth and feels the soft expanse of his tongue and his teeth. He stares up at her as he sucks them. He releases them from his mouth with a lewd pop, inhaling through his teeth. She tilts her head, almost in awe of him.

“You’re beautiful.” she says timidly.

He smiles softly.

“And you’re perfect, you know,” he replies. “Anyone would be a fool not to worship you, darling.”

Heat creeps up her neck, and when the man reaches up to tug the pink ribbon out of her hair, she whines.

“It took me forever to do my hair like this!” she exclaims.

“Mmm..” Hannibal replies, and looks at her hair, as if examining. “I already ruined it when I was fucking you, don’t you think?”

She flushes. The man below her begins wrapping the ribbon around her head. Her brows furrow, but not before they’re raising as he slips the ribbon into her mouth and gags her with it.

“Need to muzzle you good, don’t I? Since you love biting me so much.”

He watches the way her drool begins soaking through the fabric. Seeing her distraught face, he coos, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, sweet girl. But you need to be controlled, disciplined,” and then, “You know I only want what’s best for you.”

She whimpers, hips grinding down onto his crotch. He’s hard now, leaking and ready to slip inside her, and that he does. Spreading her cheeks apart, his tip probes her already filled hole. He had fucked her an hour before, filled her to the brim with his seed, and now he intends to do it again.

He sheathes inside in one go. Her eyes roll back, clit throbbing as he flattens his feet on the bed and thrusts up. Her body falls forward, causing him to bury his face into her collarbone, and he grunts against her. She feels something sharp against her shoulder— teeth.

He bites down, hard. She lets out a yell, feeling him sink into her skin. He has surely drawn blood, because when he pulls away his lips are stained red.

“See?” He asks her, licking his lips. “Now we match, lover. It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

Tears fall down her cheeks, and she nods. It is perfect.

It’s even more perfect when Hannibal uses the strength of his hips to turn the girl onto her back. She lets out a mewl, and with his cock still in her, Hannibal grabs her roughly by her thighs as he’s on his knees. Her back arches as he pulls her legs over his own, fucking her down onto his thick length. He grabs the soft expanse of her waist, grunting as he watches her tits jiggle with every thrust.

“That’s it,” he breathes, as she squirms underneath him. “Such an obedient girl for me.”

She doesn’t know where to put her hands, so with her most basic instinct she presses them on top of Hannibal’s own. He grabs them, holding them against her skin and cooing.

“I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

These words comfort her, bring a relief to her fuzzy brain, and she needs him closer. Closer, closer, closer.

She pulls his hands towards her, signaling for him to move. He moves forward, pressing himself against her body.

“I don’t want to crush you,” he says, and she bites her lip.

“I do.”

He does anything she asks, really. He puts all of his weight on her, lets her nails rake down his back and draw blood. She sinks her teeth into him more, rubs the blood on her lips and kisses him. He licks into her mouth and when he pulls away it’s so he can spit onto her tongue. She swallows it greedily, her heels pressing into his hips as he pounds her mercilessly. One hand moves to her clit, rubbing it deftly between his fingers, and his other hand goes to her throat, which he lightly squeezes.

“Look at you,” he praises, watching her lidded eyes. “So pretty and pliant for me. So beautiful.”

“Hanni—“ she starts, but it’s cut off as her orgasm rapidly approaches. “I’m gonna cum—“

“Cum for me,” Hannibal growls. “Cum for me, gorgeous. Fucking soak me.”

That’s all the command she needs. She seizes up, whimpers loudly as she reaches her peak, her eyes rolling back as she cries out his name. Hannibal watches with a small smile, but not before the clenching of her orgasming cunt has his mouth falling open as he gives two final, harsh thrusts. He spills into her with his teeth on her neck, fucks his cum into her, warm and wet.

She milks him for all he has. Her cunt takes his spend greedily, spilling over the rim of her hole and onto the sheets. Hannibal stays inside for a moment to catch his breath, deciding to collapse onto her. Not that she minds; he isn’t that heavy, and she likes the weight of him. He buries his face in her neck and sighs, absolutely spent.

“My darling girl.” he murmurs, as if in a trance. She hums a timid reply, her fingers curling into his graying locks. He kisses her on the jugular. She kisses him on the forehead. He means everything to her.

“My darling boy.” She replies. He chuckles, lifting his head and kissing her on the mouth again. She bites his bottom lip teasingly and worries the skin in between her teeth. It draws more blood, and she licks it up with her tongue.

When Hannibal pulls away, his cock slips out of her. She feels his cum dripping out of her entrance, but she ignores it. Instead, she opts for curling up on his chest again, her leg slung over his hip and her hand rubbing over the bite mark she had given him. He grabs her wrist, slipping her index finger into his mouth and suckling. She runs the pad of it over his teeth, a little crooked but absolutely perfect to her.

When she falls asleep, fingers in his mouth, she’s never been more satiated.

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy

#bunny writes #Hannibal #Hannibal lecter #Hannibal lecter x fem! reader #Hannibal lecter x reader #Hannibal lecter smut #Hannibal lecter blurb #Hannibal lecter drabble #Hannibal lecter oneshot #Hannibal lecter fanfic #Hannibal fanfic #hannibal nbc #mads mikkelsen

[amomentsescape]

Could I request slashers with a reader that has the mind of a crow. Collects bones, shiny trinkets and is oftenly mischievous.

+ Hannibal (series) I don't know wither he would spoil you or would collect trinkets in the woods from his previous victims.

Slashers with Crow-Like Reader

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, Lester, & Hannibal

A/N: I wasn't sure how to title this, but I tried my best. Thank you for the request!

Freddy Krueger

Your collection is more so just interesting to him

Even as a notorious killer, he doesn't really see the need to keep "dust collectors" hanging around

So when he first sees all of the trinkets and random things you have, he just chuckles

"What are you gonna do with all this junk?" he jokes

This earns a stern glare from you, and this has him backing off on the teasing (just slightly)

It takes a little time for him to warm up to helping you find more things to collect

But the one time he did, you gave him such a huge smile that he realized this needed to be something he did more often

Anytime he goes on one of his dream "sprees," he always comes back with a new polished bone for you

(He cleans it himself)

If any of his victims were carrying something shiny, it also becomes yours by the next night

Keys, coins, jewelry, hair pins, etc. are all part of your collection very quickly

And although it took him a while to accept this hobby of yours, he has always loved your mischievous side

You've stolen his hat and glove numerous times now

He didn't even realize it in the moment

But your little pranks only fueled his desire to do the same to you

The amount of times you've found a little bone or finger in your cup has you rolling your eyes

But you've kept everything he's given you so far

Everything

Michael Myers

Michael very much does not care about your hobbies

Whatever you want to do for fun is your thing

As long as it isn't getting in his way or affecting his own hobbies, you can do what you want

All of the little items you have lining the shelves and hanging from the walls doesn't even phase him

You could have a human head on your nightstand, and Michael would just give you a nod of approval

Just don't leave anything out where it can be stepped on or knocked over

Michael isn't one to be "careful," so if one of your trinkets is on the floor, he will step on it and not feel any remorse

"It shouldn't have been there in the first place" is always his argument

And since he is neutral about your collection, he doesn't really think to bring anything back for you

Unless some shiny object literally rolls out in front of him where he can see it, he doesn't take anything

He won't do anything intentional to hurt your collection, but he also doesn't go out of his way to fuel it either

He also doesn't react to your mischievous ways

Your little pranks or jokes elicit zero reaction from him

You've practically given up on trying anything with Michael at this point because he just doesn't respond to your behavior

Just do NOT touch his knife

Jason Voorhees

Jason know literally nothing about decorating or collections

So having you around to put little items in the cabin is really nice for him!

He likes looking around every day to see what's new

He doesn't say this to you, but he finds the bones just a little weird

Has he seen his fair share of guts and gore?

Of course

But he's never really thought to keep any of those... parts

But to each their own he guesses

The moment he learns about your fondness for shiny objects, he is all about supporting it

Any victim of his is immediately searched to see if there's anything that you would like

He even likes to stroll around the woods at times and just look around for anything that shines

He loves to see how happy you get anytime he comes home with something for you

It always manages to make his day

Your little pranks and jokes towards him mostly just cause confusion

He's a bit sensitive to it at first to be honest

The only "pranks" he ever remembers were from when he was relentlessly bullied and picked on

So just be careful where you tread with this because those memories are still very difficult for him

But overall, he really loves your quirks and collections

Thomas Hewitt

Oh, you like to collect bones?

Well, does Thomas have a treat for you

You've been able to rebuild two full skeletons with everything he's given you so far

You actually had to tell him to slow down on how many bones he was giving you

But this overload in your collection honestly works out

He's used to having literal body parts as his decor around the house, so you just adding to that "aesthetic" makes him really happy

It just reinforces that you're part of the family

And when he learns that you also have a love for collecting shiny trinkets?

You better believe he's also going overboard with that too

If it shines, it's yours

Dozens of quarters, keys, belt buckles, earrings, and even cell phones are given to you

Even if the object doesn't really shine, he'll pick it up

Once again, you have to explain that you didn't need ALL of these things

Your mischievous personality is also something he doesn't mind fueling from time to time

If you prank him, he'll get you back

You've hidden his favorite knife and apron before

But once he found them, he was all smiles

He thinks your jokes keep his life exciting, and that only makes him love it more

Bubba Sawyer

Of course, Bubba also fuels your bone collection

He's a bit messy about it though, handing you a bucket of bloody and poorly picked bones, but the sentiment is there

He's also found some creativity with it!

Recently, Bubba has found an interest in jewelry making

Anytime he can, he collects the teeth from his victims and makes you a necklace and bracelet set to have

He gets especially giddy when you try them on for him

It's like hanging up a child's artwork on the fridge

He just feels so proud of himself for making you happy

He also loves to find shiny trinkets for you too

Bubba is easily distracted by light, so it's pretty easy for him to pinpoint different items that he knows you'll like

He sometimes gets a little down on himself if he accidentally gets you something you already have though

He's also a bit sensitive to your mischievous nature

Jumping out and scaring him sends him into an erratic frenzy at first

But when he learns that these are all "pranks" that you enjoy, he warms up to the idea more

He'll try to scare you multiple times a day after that

It quickly becomes very predictable, but you still fake a reaction sometimes since Bubba gets upset if his attempt goes unsuccessful

Brahms Heelshire

As much as he still feels anger towards his parents, he can't help but still care about the upkeep of the home

He wouldn't really care about your hobby in any other situation

But this is his home, and he doesn't think dead animal bones and random trinkets look good scattered all about

If you keep your collection to yourself, then he doesn't really mind

He may raise the occasional brow at you, but he doesn't say much for the most part

Just don't set anything in his parent's room or certain areas of the house

He will throw your items away despite any protest

He doesn't do much in the way of adding to your collection either

He doesn't leave the house and hardly anyone ever comes by

Plus, he doesn't really like the bones you have and would prefer not to add to it

However, there is the small occasion that he finds a shiny nickel under the couch or a missing earring hidden in the corner of the room

He doesn't mind you having these items and will gladly hand them over if it means seeing you happy

In the way of mischievous behavior, he doesn't really care as long as you stick to the rules list 100%

In fact, he finds some of your pranks and decisions pretty entertaining

They give him an excuse to get back at you too...

Norman Bates

He won't lie; the bones freak him out a bit

As long as you explain that you aren't actively killing things to obtain them, he's mostly fine

He has his own interest in taxidermy anyways

But he would rather keep the animal looking like an animal and not the skeleton of one

But as long as you keep them to yourself, he doesn't care

He just doesn't want to see them scattered about the home and motel

He also doesn't fully understand your fascination with anything shiny

He thinks it's cute, the way your eyes light up the moment something catches your attention

But he doesn't really see the charm unless it's actually worth something

But of course, he cares about your happiness a lot

So even seeing an empty gum wrapper on the table forces him to pocket it so he can gift it to you later

Nothing really beats the excitement you show whenever you get something new

With that being said, he isn't really a fan of some of your behavior

Every item has it's place, so he becomes frustrated whenever you move anything

Spying on him or even scaring him just leaves him on edge and antsy

He much prefers a relaxed and quiet environment, that's for sure

Billy Loomis

You collect what now?

When you show him, his reaction goes from utter confusion to slight interest

Considering what he does in his free time, he kind of appreciates your morbid hobbies

When he sees that all of your bones are from little animals, he gets a dark smile on his face

"Wouldn't you rather have the real deal?"

Comes home the next night with a literal FEMUR

You have no idea how he managed it, especially since he isn't one for getting messier than necessary

But the happy look on his face was enough to make you not question anything

And of course, any future killings always involves him coming home with some type of bone or shiny object for you

He just shrugs it off like it's no big deal, but he honestly enjoys seeing you so appreciative

With that being said, some of your schemes can make him irritable at times

He thinks a lot of your pranks are childish, and he's often comparing you to Stu

"Did he teach you that one?" he rolls his eyes

He never really thought he'd be with someone as quirky as you, but he has learned to appreciate it

It makes him feel better about his own morbid interests too

Stu Macher

He stated that your collections were "sick"

In the good way

The first time he saw all the little bones you had, he tried to fit them together in order to build some new hybrid animal

Asks you a ton of questions about everything

"What was this one from?" "Where did you find this?"

He's like a little kid learning a new subject in school

He also has a similar affinity to shiny objects like you

He has a little spot on his desk made up of old coins and random paperclips he just picked up for no reason

He often gets bored when he's out, so anything that glimmers his way must be a sign that he needs to take it

But since learning of your interests, he quickly begins sharing this habit with you

Any shiny object he comes across is picked up

Even if he's not that interested in it, there's still a chance that you might like it

He may or may not have shoplifted a few times purely on accident

His mind just doesn't think those things through sometimes

And when you begin revealing your mischievous ways towards him, you better believe he's going to get back at you tenfold

It's like a constant battle between you two with bad behavior

And you have yet to find a victor

Billy has yelled at both of you numerous times when he somehow gets dragged into the behavior

You and Stu just laugh together every time

Vincent Sinclair

As a fellow person with odd collections, he respects it

He also really loves that you two have something like that in common; it makes him feel "normal"

He has anything from rocks to wax figures to little pieces of jewelry

Since he hasn't had social contact with the outside world, these collections were his friends

The bones you have are a little odd to him, but he's not one to judge at all

He unfortunately doesn't add to your collection with human bones, but he happily supplies little animal bones he finds inside all of the desolate buildings

If there's any jewelry or shiny object on one of his victims, he'll take them and give them to you later since he knows how happy they make you

Vincent is easily influenced and will likely start to pick up on your behaviors as well

Will also begin to collect shiny trinkets so that you two can share and compare

He may also start to become fascinated with little bones and how they would fit back together

With that being said, he doesn't quite pick up on your pranks and funny behavior

He happily stands back and watches though

The amount of times you've jumped out at Bo and caused him to go into a cursing fit has Vincent silently laughing in the corner

He may not always have the guts to stand up to his brothers, but it's nice that you're willing to do so for him

Bo Sinclair

He's definitely communicated his odd feelings about your interests

"Now, why would you wanna do somethin' silly like that?"

With that being said, he doesn't tell you to stop doing anything, he just thinks it's weird

Has compared you to Vincent multiple times in the past

He sort of turns his nose up to your bone collection

He won't even touch it

He says he just thinks it's gross, but in reality, it kind of freaks him out a bit (not that he'd ever admit it)

The shiny trinkets you have though are a little more "normal" in his eyes

Whenever he sees something that shines now, he always lets out a big sigh and picks it up for you begrudgingly

Says you have him "trained"

But in reality, he does love to make you happy

He just doesn't love the little pranks you pull on him

Scaring him, following him around, tackling him in the middle of night are all things he's forced himself to grow accustomed to

He still goes into a pouty fit and tells you to "knock it off"

But his threats only go so far

He soon figures that if he can't get out of the game, he might as well beat you to the win

So be sure to watch your back

He has plans on getting you tenfold

Lester Sinclair

You collect bones...?

Well, good! Because so does Lester

He's always had a knack for picking up any random scraps he thought were interesting

Bo has made fun of him plenty of times for it

But that seemed to die down now that he has you

You've both sat with each other and your collections, swapping random trinkets and talking about where some of them came from

All the while, there's the biggest smile on Lester's face

He's definitely one to give, so he always manages to find a couple items every day to take home to you

But if he finds something especially cool, you may have to "fight" him on it

(The battle never lasts long since all you have to do is give him a big kiss and he gives in)

He truly believes that having you around makes his life so much more fun too

The little games you like to play, and the way you always keep him on his toes really brings him a lot of joy

In a place like Ambrose, there isn't much for change or oddity

So meeting you was truly a blessing in all accounts

Hannibal Lecter

When you first shared your collection and true colors with him, he just responded with a quirk of the brow

Sure, he could give you a bunch of science-y answers on why you do this blah blah blah

But he knows that wouldn't change anything

Besides, he honestly likes your quirkiness

He may look suave and put together on the outside, but he also has some darker and more intriguing interests on the inside

He always manages to surprise you with a new animal bone you have yet to obtain or some shiny object that you have not seen before

You have no idea how he does it, but he never fails to amaze you

Of course, he doesn't share with you how he actually gets these trinkets, but you don't pry

You're just really happy to have someone who encourages your interests rather than shut them down

With that being said, he's a bit of a stinker when it comes to your mischievous side

He knows your intentions almost better than you do

You can't get a single thing past him without him knowing

Because of this, you haven't been able to surprise him with anything

It's a bit annoying

But what he doesn't give you in fun, he makes up for in gifts and spoiling you

#slashers x reader #slasher preference #slashers headcanon #slashers preference #slashers #michael myers headcanons #michael myers x reader #michael myers #jason voorhees headcanons #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire headcanon #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis headcanon #billy loomis #stu macher x reader #stu macher #stu macher headcanons #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #freddy krueger #freddy krueger x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader

[ozzgin]

Do you only write Hannibal lecter or do you also write for NBC Hannibal?

Yandere! Hannibal x Reader: The Grand Meal

Gather around for a short story in the spirit of Thanksgiving. You have been invited by Hannibal Lecter to a celebratory dinner, although unexpectedly barren of other guests. He will be entertaining you this evening, carefully describing each dish as he battles his own inner turmoil. (For extra immersion, I suggest listening to Bach's 'Sheep May Safely Graze')

Warning: Cannibalism and detailed gore. I'd advise against reading if you're squeamish. 

[Horror Masterlist]

He politely aids you in removing your coat, folds it over his forearm, and steps aside, expectantly. You glance at him, somewhat confused.

"Your bag, if I may."

"Oh, I...I was planning to bring it with me. I have my phone in it and all the essentials." you stutter, unsure.

Uh huh. Your etiquette seems to be lacking in certain areas. Nothing that cannot be chiseled. 

"You won't be needing it, I assure you." he extends his hand out, waiting. 

You hesitantly place the dark leather Pochette into his fingers. Hannibal has always been rather particular when it comes to decorum. You wouldn't want to upset him, especially given his generous invite to his Thanksgiving celebration. He'd heard your complaint of being alone during the holidays and he encouraged you to join him instead.

As you hurry behind him down the spacious hallway, you quietly marvel at the expensive, tasteful paintings sporadically adorning the walls. 

"I suspected they might be to your liking." He briefly peeks back at you with a faint smile on his lips. 

The heavy wooden doors creak open and your nostrils are quickly overwhelmed by the tempting smell of intricate dishes. You narrow your eyes, taking in the flavors. Once you finally look ahead, you notice that the table, although neatly decorated, consists only of two seats that have been prepared for dining. Two opposing seats, causing the whole setup to seem of ridiculous length. 

"Pardon my intrusion, but is anyone else attending?" You cannot contain your curiosity.

"Oh, no.  Not really." Hannibal pulls your chair outwards before departing to his own designated place. "It's you and me. Does that bother you?"

"I suppose it's cozier this way." You brush it aside with a chuckle. Better than being alone, you tell yourself.

He nods in agreement before settling down. He takes a moment to examine the table, confirming that everything is indeed in its proper place. A final, satisfied incline of his head.

"Allow me to introduce today's dishes. I don't want to keep you waiting for too long." He says as he remembers your earlier little gesture of delight. "It's a little bit of a scattered theme, if I am to be honest with you. I've drawn my inspiration from varied cuisines."

"I can see. How exciting!" You swiftly scan over the diverse plates, enthusiastic and hungry.

"The main course is over there. Balsamic-glazed oven baked ribs. I recommend a drizzle of cranberry sauce to go with it."

As he points to the dish, he can almost hear the dry crack of the bone. Abruptly, he's been taken back to the previous night, to his humble slaughter room - the meat needs to be fresh after all. Shears cut through the ribs with little resistance. The blades go around the thoracic cavity, contouring the ribcage. Once a proper opening has been made, he firmly grasps each side of the ribcage and nonchalantly lifts the bone flap, resting it over the face. 

Wait. He quickly digs through the skin and fat that had been shoved aside with the carcass, searching for the face of the victim. It's you. How delectable and surprising that you've wandered into such a recollection. Well, not quite a surprise that you've invaded his memories; from the very moment he met you he's been plagued by this indecent idea: How would you look on the dissecting table?

His musings are interrupted by the sizzle of the sparkling wine he's currently pouring in your glass. He finds himself back at the dining table, together with his favorite guest. You graciously thank him, and as he gazes over your features, he can't help but continue this game of imagination he's just spontaneously devised. Whoever had been carefully served for this occasion will be temporarily replaced during the theatrical retelling by you. And what a fine actor you'll be, even though you're not aware of it.

Alright, one must start from the beginning. He traces the edge of the autopsy table and inspects the drain just below your feet. He wouldn't want an incident. Would you be mortified if you'd learn your secretions and discharges leaked and clotted against the sieve? Don't worry, you'll be spared of such scenarios. He'd never willingly embarrass you like that. He softly presses the scalpel against your bare skin, going under each breast and stopping at the pubic bone. Now to trim the thick layers of fat sticking to the dermis. You're not making much of a mess, but then again it's a dream within his idle mind. A mischievous grin takes over his expression once he witnesses his clean work. The segments of skin detach smoothly, revealing your glistening, bloated organs. 

He already went over the ribs. That part has been covered. What comes next? His eyes rest on the most obvious: your intestines. Which reminds him...

"This one is a Middle Eastern dish. Stuffed intestines. You gently cut the membrane, like this." He demonstrates on a separate plate. "Don't worry about seeing some additional blood. Naturally there are many capillaries irrigating the walls, so you might open them up in the process. It quickly seeps into the mixture and adds a bit of a stagnant flavor to it, but it's merely noticeable."

You swallow dryly.

Back to the original matters. He searches for his scissors and cuts along the attachment tissue smoothly. Once the bowels have been freed, he fondles them into his hands, cupping them into place, and hurries to the nearby counter. The entrails collapse and spread onto the marble surface, like mischievous tentacles. He languidly eyes them. Do organs resemble their owner? Absurd question, really. Do they reflect one's health - that much is indubitable. Yet he can't help feeling that if presented with an endless row of viscera, he could, without hesitation, point and state which ones are yours. It's a mysterious confidence whose source he cannot pinpoint. You've always captivated him. Just when he thinks he's had you like an open book, you slip and slither between his fingers. Fitting.

What is it about you that preoccupies his mind to such degree? He turns back to the table and scans the remaining options. Your intelligence? The tool drawer opens and his fingers linger over the saw and skull chisel. Perhaps. But there's more to it, really. His analytical, rational self craves for more than what it can grasp. And what it lacks, well...

He pinches the visceral fascia and lifts the translucent membrane, with the same delicacy of unveiling a young bride, and reveals your heart, cold and still. There it is, the answer to everything. A transect to the vena cava near the diaphragm and the organ has been separated from the rest of the body. An angel with clipped wings. Holding it like this, he can almost discern the faintest throb, the fibrous muscle pressing into his skin. 

"And this?"

He purses his lips, taken aback by his own rudeness. Has he been zoning out in plain sight?

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"The dish, I mean."

He follows the direction of your stretched out index. Ah.

"Heart stuffed with mushroom duxelle. Old English classic with a twist." 

"You sound like a professional chef", you respond as you laugh. "Is there anything you can't do?"

Is there? He considers it. Right before his revelation was discontinued by your inquiry - absolutely not your fault, the ill manners were his - he was wondering if he possesses the capacity to love you. He definitely prefers you over all of the people he's encountered in his life, and your behavior and way of thinking never ceases to make him curious. Yet love is a conclusion he cannot asses with certainty. 

He had hoped a vivisectionist approach would offer him concrete data, palpable reasoning, but his journey only reinforced that some concepts must be tested outside of pure introspection. Or, as one would describe it colloquially, he has to take the bull by its horns. 

"By the way, what meat is this?" You have arranged yourself a platter with a little bit of everything, and just finished chewing a hearty bite. "Ox or something? It's very tender."

If Hannibal is to embark on his expedition of human feelings, he needs to reflect on his choices carefully. Or does he? Hmm. His methodical tactics are what caused this impasse in the first place. 

One can afford to give in, every now and then. How will you react to his self indulgence? He rests his head on the back of his intertwined hands and stares at you with a determined look. 

"Human."

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #yandere hannibal lecter #yandere #yandere x reader #tw cannibalism #tw body horror #horror x reader #slasher x reader

[willgrahamscock]

I am totally on the "Will is nothing but a little shit and a dramatic brat" train. Am I the only possible person on it? Sure but I'm here nonetheless. The way he cops an attitude with Hannibal on the regular would've gotten anyone else murdered for their rudeness but when Will does it he finds it rather intriguing, but he definitely punishes him for the misdeed

I do think Will is a brat, especially s2b and 3 he has the biggest brat energy. Hannibal secretly loves it because he knows he’s only doing it to get punished.

I’m continuing this on read more, for reasons.

We should have gotten a scene where Hannibal is genuinely irritated and telling Will he’d better be careful of stepping over the line and Will casually stepping into his space and asking “what are you going to do about it?” With his little condescending smile. Hannibal pulls Will’s belt out from the loops as his answer.

#alex answers #slightly kinky so don’t look if you don’t want that #hannibal #hannigram

[honeygrahambitch]

"Since laryngitis is not contagious I told Will he should definitely come to work today. Especially now that the Ripper dropped a body. He doesn't need to talk much. He can do his thing and then write a report on it." Jack explained to Hannibal as they arrived at the crime scene. "No one gets hurt and we get even closer to catching the Ripper."

"It's quite cold today." Hannibal commented as a tiny snow flake landed on his palm. "Will agreed I suppose?"

"He did, yes. But we have only been texting so I am not sure what state he actually is in."

Will was already there, next to Beverly, looking around the crime scene, examining something in particular. He was so focused that he didn't even hear Hannibal and Jack.

"Will." Hannibal greeted him. To that Will and Beverly turned to them.

"Will can't speak. Like, at all. I am doing the talking for him today." Beverly explained. Will rolled his eyes helplessly. "He is not thrilled about it but I can do a pretty good job."

"He definitely should not force himself." Hannibal agreed, frowning in concern. If Will was not making any effort to talk then it definitely meant his voice was gone. His usual strategy of ignoring any symptoms he would have did not work in this case.

Jack sighed loudly, probably understanding that Will should have indeed stayed home to rest instead of standing outside in negative temperatures.

"He wants to say that your coat looks majestic, Dr. Lecter." Beverly commented. "Jack, I'm not allowed to say what Will thinks about you at this very moment. I really want to keep my job."

Will didn't protest to any of the things Beverly said and pulled out a little bottle of pills. Hannibal was wondering if Will knew that aspirin won't help that much with getting back his voice. Was his throat sore as well? Probably. Will wouldn't complain about stuff like that even when his voice was perfectly fine.

Hannibal wished he would know that kind of things.

He wished Will would allow him to care for him.

That is why as soon as they were done with the crime scene, he asked Will to get into his car instead of Beverly's. He wanted to open his mouth to protest but the stern look on Hannibal's stern expression made him abandon his attempt to force his larynx.

As soon as they arrived at Hannibal's place, he started making some tea in a navy blue kettle.

"Ginger and chamomile tea does wonders for a sore throat." He explained as Will followed him with his eyes around the kitchen.

Will felt partially powerless and partially grateful. He could admit to himself that other than popping pills, he usually did nothing about feeling sick. He mostly took medication to function at work, he wouldn't need those at home.

"Thank you." He whispered.

Hannibal felt something warm inside himself at hearing his voice for the first time that day.

"You should have told- well, wrote Jack that you are too sick to work, Will. Just so you know, I'm not expecting you for our therapy session tomorrow." Hannibal said as he moved the cattle away from the electric stove.

"No, I can do it." Will whispered a bit louder and coughed immediately after.

"Therapy implies having conversations. And by canceling your appointment I don't mean that I don't want to see you tomorrow. You should definitely come here for dinner." Hannibal went on while pouring tea in two cups. "Sitting with you in silence is not something that I dread."

Will smiled at that. When it came to the two of them, silence was indeed not an obstacle. There was always something to project and something to observe.

Hannibal added a generous spoon of honey in Will's cup and none in his own.

Will opened his mouth to say something more but he coughed again. Hannibal passed him a note book and a pen.

"We can pass notes."

"How romantic" Will wrote to that, earning a genuine smile from Hannibal. Then he kept on writing and then handed the notebook back Hannibal.

"Since I can't talk and you insist on having me around I can finally do what you've been asking me for ages."

"And what have I been asking you for ages?" Hannibal asked curiously as he gave Will the notebook.

"You can draw me in your sketchbook and I promise not to move or make any comment about how boring it is." He wrote back and raised his eyebrows, watching Hannibal's expression as he was reading his words.

"Are you sure?" Hannibal asked trying to conceal his excitement behind a satisfied expression. He was already picturing each pencil or charcoal he could use.

Will nodded.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal nbc #hannibal series #hannibal fanfiction

[entitled-fangirl]

I see how you look at her, William.

Hannibal x wife!reader; Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham

Summary: Will is introduced to Hannibal's wife. The three seem to hit it off a little too well.

Words: 1,587

Warnings: idk, poligamy? Mutual pining should be its own warning, cause it always pulls at my heartstrings. And typos. Always.

Author's note: I literally pulled his GIF up, giggled, and said "Ehehehehe. He's so silly."

Masterlist

I don't own the rights to these characters!

.............................................................................

She descends down the stairs of the house, rounding the corner to the kitchen. She stands in the doorframe, watching her husband do what he does best- cook. 

He stands at the counter, focused on the cut of meat he had in front of him. She took this moment to admire him. His strong back, his shoulders moving with each movement of the knife, his biceps flexing. Although all traits were hidden from her view by the dress shirt he wore, she could still imagine it just fine. His sleeves pushed up his forearm always seemed to catch her eye, like it did now. Her eyes wander to his greying hair, imagining running her hands though it. He seemed to feel her gaze, because he turned his head just slightly. Not to look at her, but just to see her see him acknowledge her presence. His voice carried through the kitchen, “I don’t need to turn around to know that you look beautiful tonight.”

She let out a soft giggle, pushing herself further into the kitchen. “And why is that?”

He stopped his movements momentarily, his eyes moving up the wall slightly. “Because you’re always beautiful,” he says before going back to his knife and cutting board. 

It had been Hannibal’s idea in the beginning, inviting Will Graham over for dinner. He loved hosting dinners, but having dinner with only one guest was an unusual thing. And he had yet to meet Y/N.

Hannibal had kept Y/N a secret for many years, only revealing her to those attending his dinners. And sometimes, not even then. He knew what he did was dangerous, and he wished to keep her hidden from the public as much as possible. And she never minded, for she often felt anxious at big events and meeting too many new people at once overstimulated her. And above all else, Hannibal didn’t like to share things that were his. Especially things as kind as her, where the world could ruin her in a day. No, she was his, and they were a perfect pair, the two of them, for his arms were her favorite place to be. And his arms were also his favorite place for her to be.

He places the meat into the pan before finally turning around to look at her. He froze, a pleasant smile crossing his face, “Ah, bella. I knew I wouldn’t even have to look.” 

She does a quick spin, letting him see all the aspects of her dress. She grows nervous under his gaze, “is this alright?”

He lets out a soft chuckle, “Darling, it’s perfect.” He takes a few steps forward, closing the distance between the two of them before leaning down, his arms open on either side of her to avoid touching her dress with dirty hands. She meets him halfway, sharing a soft kiss. 

He smiles, moving back to the food at hand. She takes this as a cue to prepare the dining table.

Before she even finishes, a knock is heard at the door. She quickly walks to it, taking a deep breath before opening it. The sight in front of her is even better than she thought. 

Will Graham stood at the threshold of their house in a dress shirt and sweater vest, his hair gelled to perfection. He held a nervous smile about him. His eyes trail up to hers, and his smile drops. He takes a deep breath of his own, before he places the smile back on. “Oh, sorry,” he apologizes, reaching a hand out, “I’m Will Graham.” 

God, he was handsome. Hannibal had said he was quite attractive, but this. Attractive was an understatement. Will Graham was beautiful. 

She reaches her hand out to take his, “Y/N… uh… Y/N Lecter.”

She watched as the gears turned in Will’s head, his handshake slowing. “Lecter?”

Hannibal’s body appears behind Y/N, his hands moving up to rest on her hips. “Ah, Will. I see you’ve met my wife. Come in. Please.” He pulls Y/N’s body back slightly to make room for Will to enter. Will does so, letting his eyes wander around the house. 

Y/N feels her husband's grip tightening around her waist. She knows him better than anyone. He’s not jealous, per se. No, this was something else entirely. Was he…. Nervous?

Will stuffs his hands in his pockets, as his gaze returns to the couple. “This house is gorgeous, truly.” He looks to Y/N, assuming she decorated it.

She smiles, pulling herself from Hannibal’s grip, “I didn’t do it, Hannibal did. He has an eye for things. Excellent taste.”

Will smiles back, fighting himself to not look at her for too long, “Yes. It seems he does.”

Hannibal shuts the door before moving towards the dining room. “Please, come sit. I’m almost done,” he says, giving a final glance to his wife before disappearing into the kitchen.

Y/N immediately moves to her usual spot, at the left side of the head chair. She pulls the chair out softly, sitting down in it before her gaze moves back to Will. He follows suit, sitting on the right side, directly across from her.

A silence ensues as both of Hannibal’s favorite anxious people look anywhere but each other. Finally, Will break the tension, “Hannibal never… mentioned you. I, I definitely didn’t know he was married, especially to someone so,” he stops himself.

She smiles, catching his eyes, “someone so… what, Mr. Graham?”

Will looked away again, his breath caught in his throat. He lets out a cough before smiling. “I guess.. I guess I was going to say beautiful.”

She tilts her head at him, “You guess? So, why didn’t you?” She liked watching his squirm. Perhaps she picked that trait up from so many years with Hannibal.

This caught him off guard. She was rather blunt in her thoughts. “I just, I don’t know, assumed it inappropriate to say too much of another man’s wife, is all, Mrs. Lecter,” he says, taking a sip of the water in front of him.

She nods, leaning back slightly in her chair. “Hannibal is aware of what he has. As am I. He taught me to never refuse a compliment.” 

He nods as well, “Then, you look very beautiful, Mrs. Lecter.”

“Y/N,” Hannibal’s voice was heard from the kitchen. He usually didn’t call out like that. He never raised his voice. She stood quickly, moving towards the kitchen.

Hannibal stood in the kitchen, the plates neatly prepared before him. He glances up at her entrance. “Ah. Sorry for the harsh tone. It shouldn’t have come out that way.”

She nods, “you didn’t intend for it to be so.”

He sighs, “Yes. That’s true. I just…. It’s hard to see someone admire what is mine.”

She nods again, “I understand.”

“I wasn’t only talking about him admiring you,” Hannibal stated, “you seemed to like him just the same.”

She scoffs, “As if you don’t like him yourself, Lecter.”

Hannibal’s lips pull into a smile. He was caught. “I suppose you’re right, bella. As always.”

She gives him a knowing look, taking two of the plate carefully, one in each hand, and walks to the dining room. Will still sits at the large table, a nervous look in his eyes.

She sets a plate in front of him carefully, “Don’t ask me what it is, Graham. I’m not the cook.” 

His lips now pull into a smile, as he nods, “I see. Thank you, anyways.”

She sets her plate down in front of her, sitting down gracefully. Hannibal walks in, setting his plate down. He's now in his full suit, his blazer neatly buttoned. “William, I hope this is to your liking.” He sits himself at the head of the table. 

It’s a rather awkward dinner, as they all give each other obvious glances. Everyone at this table adored one another. Will and Y/N were the anxious ones, but as each conversation digressed, Hannibal’s grin only grew. He can read the two of them like an open book, and he was enjoying the book in front of him. 

As they neared the end of their dinner, Y/N happily collected the plates and disappeared into the kitchen. Hannibal took this opportunity to his advantage. He leans towards Will, his voice low, “I see how you look at her, William.” 

Will freezes, staring at the table. “I don’t believe my gaze is that different between her and you.”

Hannibal smirks, tilting his head, “No. I don’t believe it is too different.” 

Y/N enters the room again, her hand gliding across Hannibal’s shoulders as she walks around his chair. She stops behind him, leaning over him to kiss his cheek gently. He smiles at this, reaching his own hand up, and grabbing her jaw quickly before she can move away. He twists his body slightly to kiss her on the lips. She pulls back in shock but doesn’t go far due to the grip on her jaw. He smiles into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of the stare from Will. He lets her go, letting her catch her breath. She moves back to her chair with a soft pink now on her cheeks. 

Will lets out a deep breath, calming himself. Hannibal knows it, and he smiles at his darling wife.

“Should we invite William over again, mia bella?”

Her eyes glance over from her husband to Will, full of mischief.

“I think we should.”

............................................................................

Author's note (part 2): It's so easy to read a piece and critique it, but when it's your own.... golly. How can I go so easy on myself and yet so difficult to please???

#hannibal nbc x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader x will graham #Hannibal lecter x reader x Will graham

[newvision]

The smile Hannibal gives Will in Digestivo always strikes me every time I watch it. Up until that point every act of violence Will has committed was in some way or another civilised. Now we know Hannibal does appreciate civility, but in the final scene in Wrath of the Lamb, when they commit their brutal pack hunting, Hannibal rips out Dolarhyde’s throat with his bare teeth, which poses a stark contrast to the way his violence is shown in earlier episodes. I think that Digestivo shows the only inevitable outcome of their relationship. Will, without looking at Hannibal and without actively being pushed to do it, commits to violence with his mouth, his teeth. Immediately after, he looks at Hannibal, who’s ecstatic at seeing his own need in Will. It’s not that he’s manipulating Will into being a cannibalistic murderer, he’s coaxing those tendencies out of him. Will bites Cordell the same way Hannibal bites Dolarhyde. Hannibal’s face says how beautiful he thinks that act was, Will actually uses his words. They really are a mirror

#found this in the drafts from like a year ago #hmmmmmmm #emmys thoughts on Hannibal #Hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannigram #Will Graham #hannibal lecter #hannibal analysis #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

(Can I request Loki x plus!size reader) so loki and the reader are best friends and the reader is in love with Loki but he has a girlfriend his girlfriend is Sylvie maybe one night during Toni's party Sylvie went to the restroom the reader notices Loki is alone so she decides to tell Loki how much she loves him more than a friend Loki is just rude to the reader and makes one comment about her weight and tells her that he loves Sylvie the reader leaves the party early and bucky noticed he goes after the reader to make sure she is ok bucky finds the reader crying in her room bucky goes into comfort her the reader tells bucky what Loki said to her bucky tells the reader Loki is just an asshole for not making sure the reader is ok after that party the reader and Bucky spent more time together and soon developed feelings for each other and they start dating Loki is jealous when he notices the reader Bucky together Loki and Sylvie broke up they got into a stupid argument when Loki told Sylvie about what the reader said to him Sylvie broke up with Loki because she thinks Loki does have feelings for the reader so it's lokis turn to confess his love to the reader loki tells the reader he is sorry for what he said to her and that he was too blind to notice that he loves the reader and that he wants to be with her the reader tells Loki that she loves him but only as a friend because she fell in love with bucky so the reader and Loki just stay friends.

.⋆｡Glue Myself Shut｡⋆.

One-sided Loki x plus size reader

Bucky x plus size reader

You figured he would feel the same or at least he would like you enough to let you down easy, but when your world begins to crumble, someone else’s hand gather the shattered pieces

Warnings: rejection, angst, unrequited love, fat shaming, Loki is an ass, friends to lovers, fluff, self-deprecation/hatred, implied smut

WC: 2k

A/N: I totally didn’t steal this title from a Noah Kahan song

Minors DNI

Follow and turn on notifications for my library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The loneliness seemed to settle into your bones like a freezing wind. The chill words of your former friend ringing in your ears, slowly ripping your spirit apart. You knew he was with someone, someone wonderful. It was selfish and a downright asshole move.

But he was standing there, dressed in an all black suit, his raven hair falling perfectly around his face, and more importantly, he was alone. Your heart hammered so loudly your vision almost shook with the force of it. Your feet carried you over to him, through the throngs of people that had crashed Tony’s party, almost as if you were under some spell. He greeted you with a smile and offered a drink but you turned him down, your courage already weening.

There was a beat of silence where the music died and there was a lull in conversation. You couldn’t stop the words if you tried, they spilled from your lips, tumbling over themselves as you stammered. “I love you.” Everything froze and the smile on his face curled into a disgusted frown.

You couldn’t remember every single thing he said but it haunted you all the same.

“How dare you.”

“I’m with someone far better than you.”

“You’re a selfish child.”

“Why would I ever want to be with someone like you?” His green eyes seared into your soft body, picking apart each and every inch of yourself that you hated. You curled in on yourself, the final blow coming when Sylvie returned to his side once more, looking like the true goddess she was. She gave you a devastatingly kind smile.

“Oh darling, you look absolutely beautiful!” She cooed, slipping perfectly under Loki’s arm as he continued to glare at you, making it a point to place his left hand scandalously low on her slim hip. So, you ran.

The pain that ripped through you was like nothing you had experienced before. Your heart was broken, your trust shattered. Fat tears dripped down your face, ruining the carefully applied makeup that you spent hours on. It all felt so stupid now. No dress or makeup or hairstyle would change you into someone you could never be. None of it would make him love you.

You locked yourself away, ripping the nice dress you had bought to shreds before burying yourself in the soft sheets of your bed. Your tears had long-since dried, leaving streaks of mascara down your full cheeks and hiccuping breaths that just wouldn’t go away.

The door to your room opened quietly, letting in a sliver of light before it shut once more. There were three heavy footsteps and then your bed dipped with the weight of another person. “I’m not going to ask if you’re ok because you obviously aren’t so I’m going to ask what you need right now.” Bucky’s voice chased away the freezing draft and you breathed a sigh of relief.

Your arm shot out from beneath your blankets, offering a hand to your friend. His melodic chuckled rumbled through the room. The mattress shifted again and suddenly Bucky was under the covers, nose-to-nose with you, his smile glinting even in the dark.

“I was an asshole tonight.” His dark eyebrows furrowed, prompting you to continue. “I-I told Loki that I was in love with him.” A comforting yet cold hand laid itself upon your wide hip, giving you a comforting squeeze.

“He said that he could never love someone like me and he- fuck- he looked at me like I was the most disgusting he had ever seen. And then Sylvie was there and she was just so nice. And… I’m an awful person.”

Bucky huffed and then tugged you closer, forcing your face into his hard chest as his mismatched arms wound around you, keeping you in place. “You’re not an awful person. You made a slightly dumb decision but everyone does that. But dumb decisions do not excuse the way that Loki spoke to you.” And only then did you finally relax, exhaustion washing over you. “We’ll figure this out, I promise.”

——————

Your whole body felt sore from crying, but you woke up pleasantly warm, surrounded by muscles and blankets. You had fallen asleep still tucked against your friend and apparently he hadn’t let you go for a single second. 

The morning sun fell over you both, bathing him in a beautiful light that highlighted his strong jaw, dotted with day-old stubble. Your eyes traced over the curve of his face, taking in his round nose, the smile lines beginning to appear around his eyes and the corner of his pink lips. The dark circles that were almost permanently beneath his stunning grey eyes were only now fading, leaving only a tinge of purple. 

You ran a finger down his jaw, smiling as he shivered and his arms tightened around your waist. Your touch settled on the warm skin of his neck, taking comfort in the steady beat of his pulse below your fingertips. “Thank you.” You whispered, your eyes shutting once more.

When you awoke again, Bucky was still there, holding you close.

—————— 

It had been a little over two weeks since the ‘incident that will not be named under any circumstance’ and somehow, your whole life had turned around. You no longer cared when you saw your former friend pinning Sylvie to the wall, their lips fused together in a passionate kiss even if that was quickly becoming less frequent in the past few days. You brushed off the glances your way when you and Loki were alone in a room together, however rare that would be.

Because through it all, you had a knight in shining armour to come and steal you away. Bucky kept your gaze firmly on him, his fingers constantly intertwined with yours. He showered you with praise and funny stories, bringing you gifts and food. Bucky lifted you up, reminding you just how incredible you really were. He danced with you while no music played, he cuddled you during movie nights, he held your plump thigh whenever you sat next to him. 

And soon enough, he kissed you. It was the middle of the night in the communal kitchen. You both had just demolished a truly ungodly amount of takeout and a comfortable silence had fallen over you both. One hand laid on Bucky’s chest as your giggles died. His smile slowly fell into a frown, his eyelids fluttering. 

The cold metal of his left hand settled on your soft jaw. His eyes fell to your lips and suddenly he was close enough that you could feel his breath fanning over your face. You don’t remember who moved first but you did know that in that moment, everything else disappeared except for him.

And when the need for oxygen became too great, Bucky didn’t pull away very far. There was barely an inch between your lips as you caught your breath. He beamed at you. “I’ve waited for so long to do that.” You smiled and pulled him in for another kiss.

Your sides hurt from laughing as you and Bucky climbed the steps up to the Avengers Tower. Your whole body trembled with giggles. “Are you serious? Steve really did that?” Bucky chuckled along with you, moving all your shopping bags into one hand so he could pull the door open for you.

“Yeah this kid who was a buck even soaking wet tried to climb up the side of a fucking building to rescue a cat.” Your giggles resumed again with an added fervour. Just as the elevator doors opened, another voice called out to you. Both you and your boyfriend turned to the source of the sound.

Loki was striding to you with a purpose, jaw set, eyes blazing with an emotion you couldn’t quite pinpoint. Bucky stiffened behind you but the comforting touch at the base of your back told you that he wasn’t mad at you. “I need to speak to you, in private.” 

“I don’t know if that’s such a great idea, all things considering.” Bucky’s words escaped his lips almost like a growl, throaty and dangerous. And you were ashamed to admit that it sent a shiver of arousal down your spine.

“Bucky, it’s ok. It’ll just be a minute.” Your gaze flicked to your partner but he just nodded.

“I’ll be upstairs, call if you need me.” He gave your elbow a secretive squeeze and disappeared behind the stainless steel doors but not without a warning glare to the other man. As soon as Bucky was out of sight, Loki breathed a sigh of relief, his shoulders falling.

“Firstly, I do wish to apologise for how I treated you the night of Stark’s party. I was cruel to you for no reason at all and for that all I can say is that I’m sorry. You are my friend and a beautiful woman. That night I made a grave mistake.” The pounding of your heart was so reminiscent of that night. The fear, the anxiety but this time, you knew what he would say and you knew that it was now your turn. Loki took in a deep breath, his hands trembling at his sides.

“My dove, I am in love with you too. I was too blind by my own pride to see it at first but Sylvie knew. She left me, she told me that you were the one that I truly loved. So here I am, begging you to give me a chance.” He shocked you by grabbing ahold of your hands and tugging them to his cold lips. “Please my love, please let me worship you the way you deserve.”

Pity curled in your gut as he kissed your knuckles. “Loki.” He flinched and immediately released you. “I am truly sorry that you and Sylvie broke up, she obviously made you happy. And I am sorry that my actions led to this but you cannot ask me to give you a chance when you showed your true colours and hurt me so badly. You were not my friend at that moment. You made me doubt my self-worth and you made me feel awful. I know that what I did was shitty too but that is no excuse.”

“Besides that, Bucky and I have started seeing each other and I think it’s going pretty well so far. We can be friends but the trust that I had with you before is gone.” Your voice had lifted to a gentle coo, like it could possibly soften the blow. “I have nothing left to give you.”

——————

Bucky wouldn’t admit out loud that he was anxious. So instead, he cleaned. He knew that you had feelings for him, maybe not as deep as love- yet but only a fortnight ago, you were declaring your love for the man who, he presumed, was now telling you that he felt the same. 

Bucky loved you with his whole heart, he always had. Not only were you kind and patient with a laugh that made him melt, but you were beautiful, both inside and out. Anyone would be lucky to have you and he could not comprehend not only how Loki rejected you so cruelly but how you gave an old soldier like him a chance.

He was so caught up in scrubbing the already clean dishes that he didn’t notice the figure standing in the kitchen doorway, silently watching him work. “If you clean those dishes anymore, they’ll disappear.” His whole body sagged as you spoke.

Immediately, he abandoned his work and sprinted to you. You laughed as he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He didn’t have to say anything and neither did you. Everything he needed to know was in the way you held him close, how you kissed his temple, in how  you tangled your fingers in his hair. 

“So… do you want go fuck my brains out and then get some ice cream?” Bucky hauled you into his arms and ran faster than he ever had in his life.

(I couldn't help myself)

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[calmcoldevening]

Pov: You loved vampire!slashers in your past life and now you met them again

TW: mention of blood, biting, vampire and e.t.c

Characters: Vincent Sinclair, Michael Myers, Hannibal Lecter

English is not my native language, so sorry about misspells. I hope you enjoy it ♡

Mieloji (Lithuanian) — Darling

You have just moved to a new small town away from the hustle and bustle of megacities. Surprisingly, you quickly found a place to live and settled into a small house, beautiful and cozy. After unpacking all the things, you decided to explore a new city a little. After all, you've been living here for quite a while, haven't you?

And now you are standing in front of a large mansion, made in the likeness of a certain Gothic style. The massive building was made in dark colors. Large windows with a pleasant view of a surprisingly well-kept garden with bushes of blood-red roses; a dark pointed roof with neat tiles; dark gray walls of the mansion with peeling paint in some places. In front of your face were massive doors made of dark oak with a neat intricate engraving on them. Something like snakes.

You take a deep breath, gathering your courage, and slowly open the door. It does not give in immediately, the old hinges creak disgustingly. And here you are inside. You can see a huge corridor with a large staircase directly opposite the entrance. The interior is made in black and red tones, in some places you can see elements of silver or gold. Huge paintings in gold frames hang on both walls of the lobby. They depict some important people with menacing faces, but you can't make out the text on the captions to the portraits. It's a language you don't know. A huge chandelier with red candles burning on it hangs on the ceiling. Even the very flame on them seems scarlet. And although it's only early autumn outside, it's strangely cool in the mansion. Almost grave cold.

Michael Myers

You notice that your kitten is behaving strangely. Perhaps you shouldn't have taken him to such a strange mansion. The black little animal begins to meow often and asks to get off your hands. You slowly put him on the floor, and he runs straight up the stairs to the second floor.

"Michael, be a good boy and come back!" You mumble in a voice a little louder than a whisper.

Your boy has never been so restless, on the contrary, he was usually even too calm. Even when you first found this baby, he was a quiet, albeit wayward cat. As if he understood you.

"Michael..."

You hear the cat meowing from one of the distant rooms and sigh in defeat. Slowly climbing up the burgundy trunk to the stairs, you hold on to the smooth black railing with your hand. When you reach the back room, you notice Michael sitting on a large velvet bed with a satisfied smile. It was a huge double bed with a gray canopy over it and a carved headboard. A truly aristocratic bed. You come closer, holding out your hands to the kitten.

"Come on, be a good boy, we need to go. We don't want to meet the owner of this place, do we?"

Finally, the cat climbs into your arms and you turn around to leave, but abruptly bump into something. He was a huge man. You back away in fear, landing on the bedspread. You just crashed into his chest...

Your eyes go up, examining the man with horror. He was at least six feet tall, menacing and cold as a statue. His dark curly hair fell in careless curls over his pale face. The man's face was expressionless, and his large copper eyes were bloodshot.

You reflexively hug the cat to you, trying to protect him, and you close your eyes. The man raises his hand and...

Nothing?

Oh.

His big cold palm with rough fingers gently touches your face, stroking your cheek. You slowly open your eyes, looking at the stranger in disbelief. But now his face wasn't so impassive. Behind all this cold facade there was a hint of... Happiness?

The man was standing there, stroking your face, as your kitten jumped to the floor, starting to rub against the man's leg. What a... He never recognized strangers, even hissed at them if someone got too close to you.

You look up at a man, and your eyes meet. Why is he silent?

"Y/ N..." he mutters faintly, and your heart starts beating wildly in your ears.

How does he know your name? A moment later, and the man gets on his knees, hugging you around the waist and putting his head on your lap. Even in this position, he was huge. He covers his red eyes, starting to slowly rub his face against your knees and emit a light purr. Just like a kitten...

"Missed you."

And again just one phrase. But it's enough to make your heart start to ache strangely in your chest. Your hands seem to move by themselves, burrowing into his unruly curls and massaging his tense skin. A strange feeling of deja vu appeared inside. As if it really was before...

Looking up, you don't find a kitten.

"Michael," you mutter softly, frowning, and notice that the man raised his head, looking at you with his puppy dog eyes. His name... Michael? Just like your kitten. You sigh softly and smile at him. The man... No, Michael, he smiles a little in response and you see little fangs peeking out from under his lips. A vampire... But it doesn't scare you. For the first time, nothing scares you. It's like you've finally come home.

Vincent Sinclair

It was a huge picturesque mansion where you wanted to stay longer. All this mysterious interior in the mystical light of blood candles caused a strange excitement in your stomach.

You slowly climb up to the second floor, looking at the paintings and leading your hand along the different railings. A truly blood-stirring place.

Walking to the second floor, your feet lead you to the first room you come across. A spacious room with dark curtains on the windows, inside there were several tables littered with papers and paraffin candles standing on them. But what caught your eye were the drawings. Oh, Father, it was a whole picture gallery! All the walls of the room were hung with old, slightly yellowed and frayed paper. And on each sheet there were different faces, as if alive. You came closer to examine them and... Your face was here. It was almost perfect. The accuracy with which your facial features and your hair were transferred, although they were somewhat longer in the portraits... Your smile is so bright and colorful. Your eyes... It was really you. But you've never worn such strange dresses... And where did your image come from here?

There was a thump behind you, as if something heavy had fallen to the floor. You turn around and freeze in place.

It was a man. He was dressed in unusual clothes for modernity, rather resembling the costumes of the Victorian era. His long hair fell over his broad shoulders, and his face was covered with a snow-white mask. Several heavy volumes of books lay on the floor in front of him. So that's what it fell...

It seems the man is hesitating. His ringed hands are shaking a little as he gathers his thoughts. It was as if he had seen a ghost. Or a goddess.

The stranger is slowly moving towards you, his dark hair flowing over his strong shoulders like silk ribbons. He slowly knelt down, gently hugging you with trembling hands. You feel this cold touch on your hot skin, but it seems almost... comforting. You look down at him, your hands almost reflexively reaching for his hair, gently running through the soft strands. And he shudders. A dull, barely audible whimper fills the room. The man presses closer to your body and mutters something indistinctly.

A simple "Vincent" flashes through your head, and you don't notice how you say it out loud. The man shudders, looking up at you, and your heart freezes. His blood-filled eyes look at you with unprecedented love and tenderness. You're back, they say.

Hannibal Lecter

"You're finally here, Mieloji."

It was a deep male voice that made your blood run cold in your veins. You slowly turned your head towards the stairs, noticing a tall man on it.

He was dressed in a dark suit with a starched white shirt peeking out from under his vest. His entire appearance radiated elegance and sophistication. Those carefully arranged hair on her head, shining in the bloody candlelight. This sweet, but at the same time dangerous, intoxicating snow-white smile with plump pink lips. And, oh, those blood-red eyes looking into the very depths of your trembling soul.

As he slowly descends towards you, you back away, pressing into the wall. The man reaches out to you with his pale hand with neatly sharpened nails, touching your cheek. Only now do you notice how much he towers over you. Like a predator over a prey.

"I had no hope of meeting you again, Mieloji," He whispers, leaning against your neck and looking at you with his burning eyes.

"S-Sorry... But I don't understand what you're talking about..." You mutter softly, feeling your knees slowly give way, "Maybe you're confusing me with someone..."

"Oh, no, dear. I recognize you from a thousand," He whispers with a predatory smile, baring a pair of sharp fangs, "I recognize you from a thousand, Y/N."

"How do you know my name?" Your voice is shaking. It seems like it was too much for you. You were scared.

"Shh, Mieloji. I didn't mean to scare you," His gaze softens for a moment as he runs his thumb over your trembling lip, "I'm Hannibal."

He probably expected this name to give you some hint of what's going on, but you just nervously pursed your lips. What a strange man he is... Although it was worth this name to fly off his plump lips, as your heart skipped a light beat. But this is not enough to believe his words. You're just scared...

"It seems you've really forgotten me, Mieloji," Hannibal murmured with a slight bitterness, looking into your beautiful eyes. Oh, he was drowning in their alluring depths every time, "I shouldn't have let you go then... But I cherished you too much to deprive you of the joys of mortal life."

The man wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you into his cold embrace. Your smaller body looked so perfect in his hands... The pleasant aroma of his body hits you in the nose, mixed with a slight taste of copper and sandalwood. At this moment you feel so calm, here in his arms. It's as if the whole world around you has ceased to exist, just you and him.

His cold hand slowly looks at your tense back, lightly sliding his nails on the fabric of your clothes. Hannibal remembered it all too well: every curve of your body, the scent of your hair and your gentle voice. It was definitely you, his beloved, who returned to him after centuries. He knew it right away, as soon as he noticed you at the gate through the window of the second floor.

"Mieloji, I've missed you so much... I thought I wouldn't see you again," he muttered, a hint of relief in his voice.

Oh, how you wanted to believe him. It all seemed like a pleasant dream. You just moved out of your old town and entered a mansion you didn't know, but this was the first time you really felt at home. You were in the right place.

You almost reflexively squeeze the fabric of his vest between your fingers, and the man lets out a light laugh. He pulls away, still holding you by the waist and burying his free hand in your hair. Hannibal tilts your head slightly to the side.

"Let me show you my love again," he whispers, and you feel a painful burning sensation in your neck.

His sharp fangs cut into your flesh, and his pink lips begin to slowly suck your skin. It was painful. But gradually this feeling was replaced by something like... pleasure?

"Let me help you remember everything, Mieloji."

#slashers x reader #michael myers #michael myers x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader

[gemstone-roses]

Hannibal:

Christmas fic request.

Summary: when all of your friends abandon you when you’re sick over the holidays, Hannibal steps in.

Warnings: 18 plus only please, hurt/comfort, being sick, fever.

A:N- hi I hope you like it, sorry it’s so short 🥹

Hope you feel better soon, give us a shout if you need anything.

You read over the message that’s posted in your group chat, thumbs up from everyone else in the group in agreement.

Your head pounds at the light from your phone. Dizziness clouds your vision as you try to clear your head.

You’d booked off a few days over Christmas at work, told jack not to call unless things were literally in flames, you had plans with your friends, long awaited plans. And then you woke up a day before, an awful ache throughout your body. And while they were kind at first, they switched their phones off as soon as they arrived at the retreat.

And now of course you did need something.

Probably a doctor, definitely some company other than a tub of Vicks and tissues. You scroll to the chat with Hannibal and send him a quick message, before curling up and relaxing into the darkness clouding your vision.

The pounding in your head sounds a lot like your front door being hammered, you stir slowly, an awful cough rips through you as you sit, confused as the noise is definitely coming from your door, before being confronted with Hannibal coming through the door.

“Erm, hi?” You croak, breathless

He looks slightly relieved, and then immediately concerned again, coming over to kneel in front of you on the couch.

“Are you alright?” He speaks softly, hand coming to rest on your forehead as he takes in your state.

“M fine, just a bit of a cold” you assure him but he frowns, grasping your hand in his his long fingers rest on your pulse point on your wrist.

“Your pulse is racing my love, you’re not fine” both his hands come to cup either side your face.

“have you eaten?” Concern laces his words as he asks.

“Not hungry, just tired” you mumble, closing your eyes once more.

“No darling I need you to stay awake a bit longer for me okay?” he soothes, stroking your face.

“We’ve got to get that fever down my love” he produces a bottle and a box of cold medicine and unscrews the cap for you.

“Here” he says softly, you sniffle as you take them, his hand rests lightly on top of yours.

“You don’t need to stay, I’ll be okay” you say, feeling awful you’ve interrupted his Christmas plans.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I came to take care of you, now, how does soup sound”. you wrinkle your nose at that, and he chuckles slightly.

“No soup then, I’ll make you something different, you rest” he says softly.

You curl up on the couch, Hannibal waits until you’ve found a comfortable position before placing your blanket over you.

“Thankyou” you mumble, burying your face in the cushion as he caresses your face smiling softly.

#hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter imagine #Hannibal imagine #Hannibal x gn reader #hannibal fanfiction #Hannibal fanfic

[tayasui-mono]

Aaaaaaaa geez, s1e7 "Sorbet" is so brutal. Hannibal goes to Bedelia and she's like, "Oh your human veil is so nice but it must be lonely" and Hannibal is all smiles because of course, he loves being acknowledged just like everybody else so then he's like "I have friends, we're friendly" and she's like "you're my patient and colleague, we aren't friends" and to soothe that burn, she gives him some champagne? wine? Anyway he asks for something pink.

Then Will comes to see him and Hannibal's indirectly poking around asking, "Am I your therapist or are we having conversations?" and it's so embarrassing, but then Will's like "Yes, is the answer to that" all vague, and you're like phew. Okay, fine. THEN they get to discussing the Chesapeake Ripper and Hannibal alludes to maybe the Ripper not being a solo criminal and, Will, BRUTALLY, goes "Oh now HE has a friend?" And then he LAUGHS. And it's infuriating too because where does Will freaking Graham get off laughing at the Ripper being friendless, the only vague friendship he has IS with the Ripper!

Even prison didn't do Hannibal this dirty. Having his toilet taken away? If this was me, this day alone would give me pre-sleep anxiety for the next 2 decades

#hannigram #hannibal #will graham #hannibal lecter #bedelia du maurier

[yokichikun]

Hannibal x virgin reader who's anxious about intimacy! 💝

Heyo! Haru here! Thank you so much for the request! I hope you’ll like it because it’s been a while since I wrote something serious!

Content warning: sexual content.

I used the neutral gender for this fanfic to make everyone more comfortable.

Love u, have a good reading.

You and Hannibal were dating for a few weeks now, it’s almost been a month.

It was a cold winter night and you were eating dinner at his place. You were a bit nervous, it wasn’t the first time you two eaten together, but you knew this time was different. You didn’t knew why, but you had this sensation it wasn’t only a sensation, you could feel something into the air, something warm like an embrace, but more intimate.

You where sitting next to Hannibal not watching him while you two eat. You were holding your glass wine trying not to loose yourself into your thoughts.

Obviously your lover did notice your tense expression, so he took your hand and caress it smiling.

“What’s the matter my love? What is infesting that sweet mind of yours?”

Your mind jumped a little forcing yourself to look into his eyes with a nervous look.

You didn’t know how to respond, your face became all red from the realization of what was happening.

“W-what? Oh, it’s nothing Hannibal. Don’t worry, I’m just a bit stressed by work, that’s all.”

Your nervous voice immediately gave him a signal that something was wrong. He got up smiling and got behind you putting his hands onto your shoulders and starting to massage. You immediately tensed up more as his hands cuddled your shoulders trying to calm you down.

“It looks like there’s more than just work. Want to talk about it? You know I’m here to listen and help you. That’s what partners are for”

You couldn’t hold it anymore. It’s been a while since you started thinking about your future sexual life. You were still a virgin, you never found the right person to loose yourself with. You were a bit scared and anxious, what if you didn’t do the right things? What if you didn’t like it but he does? What if… what if… your mind was full of those questions. He was experienced. He. Not you. You didn’t knew enough to make him satisfied.

“What if I’m not good enough?”

“I’m sorry love? Not good enough for what?”

“What if… I’m not good enough… in the bedroom..?”

Hannibal smiled making you turn around to face him and then took your face by the cheeks.

“Is this what is filling that mind of yours with thoughts? Oh my sweet creature. There is no good enough or not good enough into the intimacy spectrum. There’s only the discovery with your partner. You have must felt so scared and embarrassed to tell me, I get that. But let me tell you that I’m never going to force anything this big on you, I’m going to accompany you every little step into this intimate dance that will be our bed life.”

You just looked at him in silence. Like always he understood everything with just a few words.

You got up for the chair and kissed him slowly. You were telling him thank you using your lips, or at least you where trying, but it seemed like he understood.

“Could we… try tonight? I mean… if you want to”

Hannibal smiled caressing your cheek.

“Oh my lover, you don’t have to ask, I’m going to do whatever you say to make you feel comfortable”

You hold him tight kissing him again. That night was going to be a long night spent by exploring each others intimacy.

#mads mikkelsen #hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #fanfic #oneshot #dr lecter #x reader #gender neutral reader

[suchawrathfullamb]

For a show that talks so much about time, I love that it has so many alternative paths it could have followed. One of my favorites is Hannibal, back when Will was sick, back when his mind was enamored by the aroma of a sweet fever, drawing in his office, one afternoon. His focus slips as he sharpens the pencil and it slits his wrist. He looks at the droplets of blood on the paper, they fell on his rendition of Will's face, smudging the eyes, trailing off his chest. He looks at his wrist, the cut seductively close to the artery. And that's it. In a blur of time he has elevated death to art, grabbed the suitcase he left inside of a closet, his always prepared suitcase for a life like his, and he is in the hallway of the office, looking back at the door, legs hesitating to leave, and he grabs his phone.

"Hey," Will answers, and just the sound of his voice takes the breath away from Hannibal. "Hannibal?"

"I love you," he decides, yes, decides, to say. Because it's over, because he is over, and because Will deserves to know.

"What? Are you okay? Where are you?" Will's voice shows his escalating worry and Hannibal realizes his own sounds shaky and terrified.

"I wanted to say goodbye," he tells him, unable to contain his emotions and allowing them to overflow because this is the last time. This is ending. So it's okay.

"What? What do you mean? Are you hurt? Tell me where you are," Will demands, and he can hear him saying "I think he's in danger" to someone, likely Jack.

"I'm in love with you. I've never been in love before," he tells him with the boldness granted by blood loss and goodbyes.

When he hangs up, he ties the final knots, but when he finally reaches the final steps, Will is suddenly there, in front of him, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"Hannibal! Are you okay? What happened? You're bleeding, what happened to you?" he sounds desperate and anxious in that way he always used to back then.

"You did. You happened to me," Hannibal says with a smile, but it's sad and almost resigned.

This makes Will look at him devastated. Taken aback. He even releases Hannibal's shoulders and stumbles back.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Will thinks someone attacked him, someone tied to him, because of him.

"The Ripper, was it the Ripper?" he asks, and Hannibal chuckles because he can't help it.

"This was an accident."

"Then why are you leaving? What does this have to do with you leaving?"

"You ruined me. I will ruin myself if I stay."

"Ruined you? I ruined you?" Will is so hurt, it's evident in his face, he wants to cry.

"I don't blame you. I don't think you can help it."

This makes more hurt form on Will's face. And Hannibal doesn't want to hurt him like this, so he adds, "Being so lovely", which makes Will frown slightly in that way that is so his.

"You're leaving because you...You fell in love with me?"

"Yes."

"No. No, please, don't. Please don't leave me," Will comes forward, his eyes beginning to water more intensely. Hannibal holds his heart mentally, because he feels it falling down.

"You're the only stable thing in my life right now, please, don't go," he's begging now, he's genuinely dreading the loss.

Hannibal brings his hand to Will's face, gently stroking his cheek, because yes, let me feel you for this last time.

"You're so warm, you're always so warm," Hannibal whispers, almost musing. "I can't stay."

"Why not?"

"Because when I look at you, I see you. And I love all of it. All of things I see in you. All of them," he empathizes, hoping the unspoken words will speak what he's trying to avoid, "But I can't handle you looking at me with the same disgust you look at yourself."

Tears are set free from Will's eyes, and he frowns again.

"What do you mean? Please tell me what's going on," he begs.

"You'll see. Soon."

He leaves, Will follows him, begging please no, don't leave me, but finally gives up. And when Hannibal's car is out of sight, Will goes back into the office, and is greeted by a tableau on the other side of the door.

#this is insane #this was meant to be a normal headcanon #but then it exploded out of me #anyway #hannigram #nbc hannibal #hannibal #will graham #murder husbands #hannibal lecter #hugh dancy #mads mikkelsen #fanfic

[theredofoctober]

MANNA CHAPTER 2: SUPPER

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham fic, TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, drugging, mild Daddy kink (it'll all make sense).

This chapter is chronologically 2nd in the series.

Keep reading after the cut

Blood in your mouth; you've bitten your inner cheek in your sedative state, auto-cannibalism under the eye of vague attendants. Both are male, featureless, moth-men with closed wings.

You glance from one to the other, grasping foolishly at memory, not yet finding its edges.

"Dad?"

The figure on the left ejects an awkward laugh.

"Which one of us is that again?"

"A moment, Will," says the other man, and through the ether of sleep you see his face, the etching of an aesthete, that which you have seen before.

Hannibal. Dr. Lecter. An enemy in the seat of a saviour.

"Give her time to wake," he says, "and to acclimatise to her environment."

"What's going on?" you ask, rubbing your hands across your face in an effort to rouse yourself. "Where am I right now?"

"You don't remember what happened?" asks Hannibal, his absence of brows arched. "You are in my home, where you will be staying for the foreseeable future, under my care. My colleague, Will Graham, will be assisting me in looking after you. I hope that while you are unhappy with your situation, you will be cordial to him."

A tableau— Hannibal trapping you against the door, your knee bruising his male sensitivity, intimate as newlyweds in the clinch of your rash violence—slows your thoughts with its artistry.

You remain too sluggish, yet, to fear Dr. Lecter as you did in his office. Every feeling seems performed by some spirit in your place, a girl who died here before you, leaving a breath of her sorrows in the walls.

"Are you a doctor?" you ask the man named Will Graham.

He blinks at you as though perturbed by the question.

"No," he says, shortly. "I lecture in criminal profiling for the FBI. Occasionally, I step in as a special agent on crime scenes. I'm here to offer my insights on your case, I guess. Haven't decided quite what they are, yet."

You sit up, frowning.

"But I'm not a murderer."

Will smiles, the curl of his mouth quite unpleasant.

"I know. Doesn't mean I can't get inside your head, though."

He is unfriendly, and oddly furtive, his expression dancing between moral objection and a grudging interest in you. Segments of his conversation with Hannibal pluck at you delicately: he is present only under duress, any curiosity a provocation on Dr. Lecter's part.

You glimpse an avenue for escape through the younger man's sensitivity.

"So... you're a cop?" you ask, carefully.

Will coughs out a laugh.

"Not exactly. Why, worried I'll arrest you?"

"No, but you should arrest Dr. Lecter."

Hannibal delivers you an amused look.

"I have no concerns with the legalities of your treatment. Will would not incriminate himself in any act that would be to your detriment."

You worry your lower lip with your teeth, wondering how much of the truth Will Graham knows.

"So... am I in trouble?"

"Why would you be?" Will enquires, but the question is directed at Hannibal, who coolly answers.

"She assaulted me in her efforts to leave my office."

You stiffen as Will's expression clouds with a new darkness.

"Are you hurt?"

"Fortunately not. I could have been, but I was prepared for resistance. A poor start to our relationship, nonetheless. I think an apology is in order."

Threat is inevitable in that statement; you look for windows, doors, any potential exit, knowing well that you cannot move fast enough to pass your jailers without intervention.

Will says your name, the suddenness throwing you like the recoil of a gun.

"Apologise to Dr. Lecter."

"She was frightened, Will," says Hannibal, generously. "Like a stray animal unused to human contact, she cannot help but bite in the terror that we mean her harm."

Yet he does mean you harm, means to play with you as an orca does a seal it kills, an inversion of his own metaphor.

Will shakes himself, turning from you in reluctance to meet your gaze.

"You said she has to learn," he says, through gritted teeth. "We need to reinforce boundaries with her. So either she apologises, or we have to punish her. That's the way this works, right?"

Fear opens your lethargy with a surgeon's precision.

"Punish?" you cry. "What are you talking about?"

Ignoring your interjection, Dr. Lecter says, "You are correct, Will. For certain plants, a framework is needed for them to grow. What trellis must we build to guide our clematis to its most majestic heights?"

Will regards his friend thoughtfully.

"What's your suggestion?"

"There are two options that occur to me," says Hannibal, watching as you claw yourself against the headboard with both hands. "The first is that we begin the initial step of her recovery with a hearty meal. I was informed by her family that she has not eaten since yesterday. It is not too late for me to prepare dinner. If she will not eat, then I have the means to encourage her to do so."

Dr. Lecter turns aside, allowing you to glimpse a feeding tube posed gracefully on a tabletop. You have long feared this tool, which even previous therapists have raised as a possibility for you, should you not end this starving strike. Never had you pictured a day this horror would find its becoming.

Terror licks at you as readily as a flame.

Starting forward, you grip Will by the wrist, unhinged in your desperation.

"Don't let him do that to me."

Will looks down at your hand with displeasure, yet he doesn't attempt to remove it, enduring your touch with grimacing obligation.

"And the other option, Dr Lecter?" he asks, thinly. "It's been a long day, and I don't know if I have the energy to step in as orderly to a violent patient without preparation."

"I am sure that you would handle her proficiently," says Dr. Lecter. "But perhaps there is another method we can consider, first."

He takes Will aside and murmurs to him; the fragments you discern sound as ambiguous as the language used aloud.

The younger man takes on a cornered look.

"I... can't do that," he protests, his posture sharp with discomfort. "That could open up a whole host of new problems for her."

"Or it could impress upon her the necessity to listen to her guardians," says Hannibal. "I will join you, if it will persuade you."

"Doesn't that go against the confines of your role?"

Dr. Lecter smirks, his fine-jawed features made truly handsome.

"I will enact discipline, also. But it will not be the first tool that I apply."

The two men approach the bed together, one on either side of you, apparently united in their purpose.

"What are you doing?" you cry, although by now you've a sense of it. "Stay away from me!"

"These are the conquences of resistance, little one," says Hannibal, closing the space between you. "From now on, I suggest that you comply."

You scramble backwards only to come up against Will Graham, his arms a cuff around you.

"Don't struggle," he snaps. "I don't want to hurt you any more than I have to."

"No! No!"

Child-like, you find yourself reduced to simple denial, fear snatching the very language from you. You are all trembling fragility beneath Will as he shoves you, face down, on the bed; you turn your head back to look at him, glimpsing a flash of clenched teeth, eyes with a bear's indifferent hunger, something sickly, and soulful underneath.

You think, this man is not well, then bark out a startled scream as he forces your head frontwise, a fisherman's rough hand on your scalp, oppressing you in its unthinking violence.

"Face him," Will barks, pushing you for emphasis. "He's the one you injured."

You comply, feeling on the very cusp of death.

The man on your back manoeuvres you on all fours to his liking, the stave of his hard want crushed against his jeans. His comrade holds your arms down, though you could not move them at the devil's request; stillness is your ally, submission where a fight would cut your throat.

Hannibal looks at you with the cruel serenity of an angel, in all his justice. He touches your tear-scaled cheek with solace stolen from husbands and fathers; when he tips your face to his, you know what he will take from you, have felt the omen of that kiss.

It is intimate, gentle, kinder than any touch you've known in years. You blink, dismayed by the lust that roots itself from gut to cunt in its tangling wisteria.

"What— why?" you stutter, the feel of his lips on yours a reverberation that long remains.

"A treatment from bygone times," says Hannibal, patiently. "Although widely frowned upon, sex was once implemented to allieve many ailments. I find value in it, still."

"No," you say, aware of Will's arousal at your entrance. "I mean, why did you kiss me? Why would you do that?"

"You ache to be cherished, and so you will be. Alas, it may be many months before you see me as the friend you crave."

"You'll never be my friend," you sneer, and regret the barb as Will thrusts against you, having unbuckled his jeans to free himself to your imprisonment.

There is an arc of sore horror as his cock bolts within, making butchery of you in his taking. Will's arms are either side of you, the bars that cage such a sow; he smells of sweat, and Old Spice, and dog hair, and now of sex. You sob drily as he ruts your vulnerability against the mattress, as he sucks the skin of your neck in his teeth and bites until a ring tattoos your throat.

That mark is a staple of sexual assault, you'd read that somewhere, a sigil of the taker's power.

Limp, you let him use you, fucking you in so harsh and primal rhythm that you can think of nothing but its pattern.

What ill of yours earned this brash causality? Why, of all patients, has Hannibal taken you up as his toy?

"Stay there," Will grumbles, as you arch your back in a spasm of gilded agony. "Don't move."

"I have her," says Hannibal, and he guides you up onto your knees, his chest flat to yours as Will ruins the atrium of his desire. "Teach her what she will endure, if she will not accept our aid."

You cannot stand to be torn apart like this, a beast between your legs, and another touching your breasts and waist as though your partner in a waltz, all courtly chivalry.

"Please, Will," you moan, but he has thrown aside his reason, swept up in this gourmand's pleasure.

"Hurt me the way you hurt Dr. Lecter and you'll really wish you hadn't," he says, and you shake your head in a frantic falsehood.

"I won't. I swear I won't."

Will is fire, and you are ash: he is pain and delight, a conundrum. He puts a hand to your neck, holding your head upright as he fucks you, and growls against your ear sharp threats that sell you to silence.

Hannibal stares at you in fascination. You feel it pour over you like tar, glazing you with the shame of your illness having made you his object.

Dr. Lecter is of an evil Will is not, setting you both before him to observe your every response.

Later, he will write notes about this; the hands that glide your body now will itch for the pen, to lay out all you are on paper, and memorialise your suffering.

Does he truly think that this will help you? You don't believe it.

This night is his experiment, that which he might take apart like a pig's heart to show its working to students of science. Will is Dr. Lecter's pupil, and he is moulding the man to be as he is, and though it is Graham that fucks you, it is Hannibal you hate the most, the God that set this all into motion.

Will's breath flutters at your ear, and he stills, only the part of him within you left flinching to a vicious end. Hannibal steps back from the bedframe, smoothing down his suit of creases with elegant hands. As Will struggles up to join him, you crumple forward, sodden and stammering, a headache starting to beat at your temple, the hangover of Dr. Lecter's drug.

Yet when the younger man places a hand to your jerking back, you accept the touch, wanting even so poor a substitute for love.

"Daddy," you whisper. "I want to go home."

Will jerks away from you, staring at his own hand with abject revulsion.

"What have I done?" he asks, and there is an undercurrent of awe to the words that you do not quite understand.

"You did what you had to," says Dr. Lecter, smoothly. "What was needed."

His colleague shakes his head, his gaze dropping floorwise.

"No. She's seriously ill. She should be in a hospital ward, and I— we—"

"Will."

You cannot stand the fondness with which Hannibal addresses the other man, grooming him to such extremities of evil. He lays a hand on Will's shoulder, and he relaxes into the touch, an unconscious softening of his inate angles.

They stand together as if alone in the room, Dr. Lecter's face almost in the crook of Will Graham's neck.

"She is quelled," he says, quietly. "Tomorrow, she will eat the breakfast I make for her with the memory of this correction, and in time, she will learn to thank you for it. Even to love."

Still, Will lingers in the doorway, watching you wind yourself into the coverlet to nurse the wound of his making.

"Is she going to be alright?" he asks, nervously.

Through sodden lashes, you see Dr. Lecter guide his colleague into the hallway, as a strict father might the mother that coddles an infant that screams to be held.

"Let her sleep," he murmurs. "Her dreams will be woven with our teaching. Soon we shall see what tapestry will be made."

They leave you there, descending into opiate darkness. You slumber, but you do not dream, only lie with your hand over the heat these heathens have struck in what was before a lampless under-earth.

Your hunger follows you down into the castles of sleep, loyal to its creator.

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