#Hannibal lector x You

[specialagentlokitty]

Hannibal lector x teen!reader - ensure you’re safe

Hi 👋🏻 Saw you wanted to try to write for Hannibal characters and for me the easiest way to start writing for Hannibal was to write like a therapy session with Hannibal. So thought maybe you could write teen!reader or just regular reader at a therapy session with Hannibal, of course there’s no worries if you don’t write it, just thought it might help you out <3 I will probably request something with Will later as he’s my fave character but can’t come up with anything right now - @panic-in-the-multiverse 💜

TW: mentions of abusive parents

Sitting outside in the waiting room to your new therapists office, you sighed heavily, pulling your headphones back over your head.

You weren’t sure what you wanted to do, a large part of you wanted to just leave, but you had to be there, the officer sitting next to you was there to make sure of that.

But just because you had to be there didn’t mean you had to say anything, or actually take part, you simply just had to attend the session.

You watched as a bit of paper was held out in front of your face, and you sighed, turning your gaze to the man sitting next to you, pulling your headphones back down.

“What?” You snapped.

“Don’t be rude, keep your headphones down, and please try take part.”

“I don’t see why I have to, I didn’t do shit wrong.”

“Well, apparently everybody else sees differently kiddo, so please try.”

You stuck your middle finger up at him, pulling your headphones back over your head to carry on blocking out of the world.

You weren’t paying all that much attention, but you did notice when the officer next to you stood up and you turned your head to look at him in uninterest as he spoke to the man who came out of the office.

Then he turned back to you and pushed your headphones down.

“You’re up kid, I’ll wait out here to take you home but then you’re on your own to make sure you come to these sessions, got it? Twice a week.”

“Get lost Daniels.”

“Alright, but remember no wondering off because we’ll know.”

You just scowled and he grinned a little at you, holding up your bag for you to take as you stood up.

“This is Doctor Hannibal Lector, he’s going to be your new therapist, be polite, respectful, and remember to keep your temper.” Daniels warned.

You said nothing as he left, and you turned to the therapist.

“Hello (Y/N), would you like to come in?”

You set your bag down and sat down back in the chair you were waiting in.

Hannibal smiled slightly, and closing his office door, walking over to sit next to you, sitting forward slightly, clasping his hands together.

He took a moment to study you, how uninterested you were, the fact you wouldn’t even look at him, you were dressed in ripped jeans, well worn trainers, a hoodie.

But it was your face that he was drawn to, the stitches on your eyebrow, a little bit of dried blood just at the side, clearly you had ripped one or two earlier that day. What looked to be a broken nose, split lip, and from the brief glance of your knuckles he had gotten they were bruised and blooded.

He made a few mental notes before he finally spoke first, seeing you weren’t going to initiate a conversation with him.

“Would you like to start by telling me a little bit about yourself?” He asked.

“No.”

“Well, how about we start with why you’re here. Why have you been referred to me (Y/N)?”

“You have my file. You know why.” You grumbled.

“Yes, I am aware this is court mandated therapy. I would like to know why you think you were sentenced to therapy, what are your thoughts about this?”

You didn’t say anything, you just slumped down in the chair, pulling your hood up so he wasn’t able to look at you.

“You have no interest in being here.” He noted.

“Nope.”

“I see, yet you’re staying for what reason? What happens if you walk out of those doors before our session has ended?”

You didn’t say anything, and he just sat there silently for the rest of the session with you.

Every session went the same, you would sit outside, refuse to come in or answer his questions, then the pair of you would sit outside the office while he read or made notes and you listened to your music.

It went that way for nearly two months, and Hannibal followed the same routine this time around, opening his office door and you looked up at him.

He paused, taking in your bloodied hoodie and nose.

“(Y/N), what happened?” He asked.

You got up, and he stepped aside, holding the door for you as you walked in for the first time since you began to see him.

Hannibal carefully closed the door, watched as you walked around until you stopped by the ladders and you sat down on them.

“There are more comfortable places to sit if you would prefer.”

“I’m fine.”

He hummed a little bit, sitting in a chair as he looked over at you.

You were one to keep your distance, so he wanted to respect that boundary and stayed where he was on the other side of the room.

“Are you? In the two months that we have known one another you have never stepped foot inside my office until now. Today is the only day you have come in looking as if you were in a fight just before arriving.”

You didn’t say anything.

“I have read your file numerous times, you’re known for your rather unpleasant temper, you have been arrest on multiple occasions for assault, your most previous charge is listed as aggregated assault.”

“So what?” You snapped slightly.

“There is no need to get angry, I am not here to judge you. I am simply here to assist you, find out why you are so angry all the time and what led to your anger.”

You pulled the sleeve of your hoodie down, pressing it to your nose, wiping some of the blood on it.

Hannibal got up, walking over he took the handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to you, making sure he kept his distance.

“I don’t need your help…” you grumbled.

“Well, blood can be rather hard to wash out of clothing, you may ruin your jacket if you keep that up.”

“It’s a hoodie.”

Hannibal chuckled slightly.

“Very well, you will ruin your hoodie.”

“Like I said, don’t need your help.”

Hannibal sighed, laying the handkerchief down on the floor just a few steps away from your and he clasped his hands behind his back.

“You are a deeply mistrusting person, I understand that. But perhaps if you are willing to give someone a chance you will see that some people can be trusted.”

You glanced up at him, then quickly averted your gaze, going back to looking at the floor instead, but he knew you were watching him.

You had your head lowered, but just barely high enough to look at his shoes.

“Who hurt you?” He pressed carefully.

“What makes you think I didn’t start it?”

“The lack of bruises or scrapes on your hands, your clothes are rather dirty, defensive wounds I would say. Am I correct?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“Maybe I just like it, getting into fights and all.”

“I have a reason that perhaps you don’t enjoy it.”

You looked up at Hannibal, getting up and you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jeans.

“Maybe I do. Maybe it fun, beating the crap out of someone until their blood is all over their face, watching as they beg me to stop, to leave them alone. Maybe I like the fear in the eyes.” You taunted.

“Is that so?”

Hannibal watched as you studied him, getting a read on him, trying size him up to see if you could take him on in a fight or not.

“Do you want to hurt me (Y/N)?”

You didn’t say anything.

“Who do you really want to hurt? When you get into all these fights you claim to enjoy, who do you think off when you’re knocking them to the ground and beating them within an inch of their lives?”

“No one.”

“Anybody with that much rage thinks of somebody, targets somebody.”

You just scoffed, making your way past him to head to the door.

You left without another wait, having reached the exact time limit of the session and Hannibal walked over to his desk, opening his book.

He wrote down what you had told him, and sat reflecting on it.

Clearly you were an angry person, you were a teenager with a lot of anger and hatred, but not at the world.

It was directed at one single person, because if your anger was random he had no doubt in his mind you would’ve already tried to attack him, but you didn’t.

You simply just refused to acknowledge whatever he said, you didn’t attempt to hurt him.

Intimidate? Yes. But not hurt.

It was a few days when your next session came around, and you walked into the office once more, taking a seat in your usual spot, this time a little more slowly.

Hannibal frowned, but carried on his session.

And he began to pick up on every time you came into the sessions either hurt, or fresh out of a fight.

And the timeframe between these seemed to get smaller and smaller, up until the point today.

Hannibal opened his door and you looked worse than ever as you pushed past him, dripping some blood on to the floor, limping into the middle of the room.

You took a few shoe breaths and he closed the door, making his way over to you.

“(Y/N), can you hear me?”

You slowly turned to him, nodding your head, stumbling a couple of steps.

“Tell me what happened? Who did this to you?”

You shook your head, slowly sitting down on the floor so you wouldn’t have to get blood on any of his furniture.

“Stay here, I will call the police, and for an ambulance.”

“No!”

Hannibal turned at your outburst, and you looked at him, rage with slight fear mixed in your eyes.

“Don’t you dare, don’t… don’t call anyone…” you warned.

“Alright.”

Hannibal set his phone back down and he walked over, kneeling down in front of you, resting an arm on his leg.

“Tell me what happened.”

You took a small breath, leaning back on one of your hands.

“I fucked up… real bad doctor Lector… like.. like real bad…”

“I need you to tell me what happened.” He pressed carefully.

You sighed a little bit.

“He got drunk again, got pissed, I talked back. He swung for me so I fought back, hit him with a chair. She got pissed at me, pushed me down a few stairs.”

“Who is the ‘he’ you keep referring to?”

“My dad.”

Hannibal nodded his head.

“I assume the ‘she’ would then be your mother?”

“Bingo, right on the money doc. I can see why you’re a therapist.”

Hannibal noticed how you deflected the serious topic with unserious remarks or a slightly snappy tone towards him.

“I see, you are aware that I have to call the police, and I strongly recommend you allow me to take you to the hospital. A fall down the stairs is not something to take so lightly.”

“You call police and I’m gone.”

“Why?”

You stayed quiet, shifting a little with pain and he sighed.

“You have strong issues with authority, but unfortunately I have to call them, I have a duty of care to ensure your well-being. Which means if I suspect that someone or yourself will cause you harm I have to report it. I can request to be with you every step of the way if that makes you comfortable.”

You pushed yourself up with a grunt of pain, stumbling a few steps backwards and Hannibal quickly stood up, placing his hand on your back to keep you stable.

You moved away quickly, and made your way to the door.

“At least allow me to take you to the hospital.” Hannibal said.

He turned around to get his keys from his desk and when he turned around you were gone.

He sighed, picking up his phone in order to call for your parole officer.

He had had the number his his phone since the first session, but he had never had to call the officer about you.

Not until now.

He quickly relayed on the fact that you had come into his officer severely injured.

You hadn’t made it far when Daniels picked you up, despite the fact you tried running you couldn’t exactly outrun a police officer in your injured state and you were taken to the hospital.

The ran some tests, stitched up your cuts, and placed you in a room while you awaited the results of your tests.

“So, want to tell me what happened?” Daniels asked.

“Go fuck yourself.” You growled.

“Hey, I want to help kid. But I can’t if I don’t know what happened to you.”

“You know what happened you prick, you all know what happened but you won’t do fuck all about it!”

“Calm down right now.”

“Or what?!”

You ripped the IV out of your arm, and you stood up, nearly falling to the side but you didn’t falter.

Daniels stood up as well.

“You can’t do shit.”

“Look, doctor lector is on his way, and they’re taking your parents in for questioning right now but you need to stay here.”

“Like fuck do I have to stay here. You can’t hold me for shit.”

You barged past him, throwing down the tray as he tried to follow you.

It would stall him for a few minutes while nurses and doctors quickly tried to gathering everything up so nobody would get hurt.

You left the hospital, making your way to your usual hideout spot when you didn’t want to go home.

It wasn’t the best, an old and abandoned construction site, but it was full of more than enough hiding places, and you went to your favourite one.

Sitting in the concrete pipe, you rested your back on a blanket you had in there, closing your eyes as you breathed through the discomfort.

Your phone was ringing endlessly, and you turned it off, getting bored of hearing the sound.

Though the silence was helpful when it came to hearing the creaking of the large metal gate being opened and closed.

“(Y/N), I know you’re here, come out so we can talk!” Hannibal called.

You stayed quiet.

You knew he would eventually and it only took a few minutes for him to appear at the entrance to your hiding spot.

He offered you a gentle smile.

“You need to go back to the hospital.”

“No.”

“Your parents are currently in custody, you’re safe. Nobody here is going to hurt you, nobody there will hurt you either.”

You scoffed.

“You really believe that? Give it a day or two, they’ll be back out.”

“Yet you always go back, why?”

“Because I have to, court order. Every. Single. Time.”

Hannibal sighed, and he offered you a reassuring smile.

“Come with me, I assure you that no more harm will come to you.”

You didn’t believe him, you simply just left the other end of the pipe you were sat in and Hannibal got up to follow you.

“You have internal bleeding, if you do not go back to the hospital you’ll die within hours.”

“Great, makes life easier for everybody. Gives me a way out.”

“Do you wish to die?”

You paused, giving the man a chance to walk over to you and stand in front of you.

“Do you wish to die (Y/N)?”

“No.”

“So, allow me to take you back to the hospital then. We will let the surgeons fix whatever inside you is bleeding, then when you wake up I will be right there waiting.”

“Yeah, and they’ll be there too.”

“You have my word, you parents will not be allowed in the room.”

You scoffed.

“Yeah, I’ll take my chances bleeding internally.”

“What if I can prove to you that they won’t be allowed in the same room as you?”

This seemed to gain your interested, and he gestured to the front of the construction sight.

“Do you see that man over there?”

You nodded.

“His name is Jack Crawford, he works for the FBI. He has read over your case file, he along with another agent will be outside your room the entire time you are there in recovery while we sort a safer place for you.”

Hannibal held his hand out to you.

“Do you trust me, even just a little bit?”

You looked at him, and you slowly nodded your head.

Hannibal smiled, walking over and he reached out, wrapping his arm around you, letting you hold his other arm to steady yourself while you both walked.

“They will never hurt you again (Y/N).”

Hannibal helped you into his car and got into the drivers seat, adjusting the mirror, wiping the little bit of blood that was on it so you wouldn’t see it

[dilfdemolisher]

Hey,

Heard you are in a Hannibal mood right now, so could you please write a needy Hannibal one-shot? They have been busy with their respective jobs and Hannibal comes home after a long, at first just wants to kiss and cuddle, but soon discovers how desperate his body is?😏(nsfw?)

Sorry, if I made you uncomfortable

an: I wrote this while listening to Honeymoon and I feel that its evident; so i insist y'all listen to Salvatore while reading...

YEARNING

Summary: A moment to lounge and enjoy peace becomes much more eventful when Hannibal arrives homes from work—hungry;)

Content Warning: Smut, Hannibal Lector is SIMP!!! Spread the word, oral and fingering (f!receiving), male masturbation (he jacks off during snack-time)

Word Count: 2k

It’s nice to finally have the opportunity to lounge—nothing to write—no one to speak to—no where to go—just you, your book, and the sun accompanying you while you sit comfortably in the lounge chair that has recently been brought outside.  

You always believe you’re not one who’s affected by the seasons; that cold, dreary weather doesn't get the best of you. And you believe that until the weather starts to warm your body up and you feel like you just crawled out of a cave and haven't seen the sunlight in years. 

Your whole body feels hot, and your internal temperature rising from the hot sun on your barely covered skin. You didn’t want the sun to have to penetrate through anything—you wanted it direct. 

You can’t help but let out a sigh. You allow your head to roll back and take your eyes off the pages you are reading, savouring the way the heat permeates through your hair and warms your scalp. So caught up in your relaxation, you didn’t become aware of your partner's presence until you felt a hand on your shoulder that delicately squeezed you. 

You don’t feel the need to open your eyes; you just feel content. 

“You’re the most divine creature I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He speaks. Oh, how you’ve missed his voice. You’ve both been so caught up in your respective careers that the simple attention he’s giving you right now makes the world seem like it’s stopped spinning and that it’s just you and him, no one else. 

He leans down and peppers kisses onto your shoulder; you can’t help but smile as his mouth trails upwords along the side of your neck. 

Your sure he can hear the grin that's carved onto your face as you speak, “I’m savouring the weather. Who knows how long it will be until we get another day like this.”

He only responds with a hum in agreement, or maybe just in enjoyment of his activities; your not quite sure. “Care to join me?’ You ask in hopes this isn’t just a fleeting moment; you miss him—you want him. 

He stays mute until he brings his lips to your carotid artery and lightly nibbles on the skin that serves to protect it. “I’ve missed you more than you know. I’m tempted to eat you up so I can have a piece of you forever.” He says before hashly nips you. 

It’s a frighting statement indeed, but he said it to you. If it were for someone else, it would be a threat, but for you, its a declaration of love. 

You can’t help but blush at his statement, “What's gotten into you?” 

He doesn't answer; instead, he continues to manifest his care with kisses instead of verbalizing it. His hand makes its way up your back as he pulls his head away. Before you can complain, he places his hands on your shoulders and rubs. You can’t help the small moan that makes its way out of your mouth due to the pressure on your muscles. 

You hear him quietly chuckle above you. You tilt your head back and open your eyes to look at him. 

He’s staring right back at you with a satisfied grin.

It’s ridiculous, and you know it. But sometimes you remember how beautiful he is and it takes you off guard, turning you into a blushing, love-sick fool. 

“Hi.” is all you can say. He says it back; you can see how humorous he finds this and how his simple touches seem to melt your brain away. 

You bring your hand up to his, where he working on your shoulder. “You just got home from work; I should be loving on you.” You say while bringing his hand to your mouth for a sweet kiss. 

He pulls his hand away, “Nonsense.” He says as he returns it back to your shoulder to continue your massage. “I live to love you.”

You love Hannibal, and you have no doubt your feelings are reciprocated, but its unusual for him to be this touchy. 

“I feel like you have bad news and you’re buttering me up.” You joke. You can't help but swoon as you hear his chuckle from above. 

“No bad news.” He says, “We’ve both been suffocated by our work lately and for the moment we aren't, and I feel it would be pitiful to waste it.” He explains. 

Your smile grows larger at his words, “Take off your blazer.” You tell him. You hear him laugh once more as he shrugs it off. 

You immediately understand how words come off. “No, not like that; I’m sure you’re baking in that. I’m just enjoying being here with you. I don’t need anything more.” Your a tad embarrassed by how forward you accidentally sounded, though he didn’t seem to mind. 

He places his blazer down somewhere out of sight. When he returns, his hand lands on your scalp where he gently drags his nails along it. “Just because you don’t need something more doesn’t mean you don’t want it.” 

You rotate your head back once more to look at him. You remember a few moments ago how soft his gaze was. Now it’s much more hungry. 

“I didn’t want to be greedy.” You whisper. There's no need for your quiet tone; Hannibal is the only other soul near you. Yet, just in case you stay hush. The words are meant for him. Yourself—your being—is all for him. 

“You’re too sweet.” His hand falls down farther. He’s slow with his movement, teasing you. His hand lies on your chest, above your heart; you know he’s revelling in the past pace of it—physical proof of your need for him. 

“Be greedy; you deserve it. Your always so good.” His hand  shifts to encompass your breast. He has a firm grip, but nothing to ensue pleasure; he’s waiting for your response. 

His simple words make your mind turn to putty. His face is next to yours—you can sense it. You feel his lips on your cheek—a gentle, kind kiss.  

“That's what I want. I want to be good for you.” It was the correct answer to assume as his hand slides beneath your swim top. 

You utter his name as he kneads your chest. You feel him exhale on your shoulder before biting into while pinching your nipple. His other hand, that’s not busy, starts to remove your top. 

Hannibal's fingers work deftly, sliding your swim top completely off and casting it aside. You feel the warmth of his body leave as he comes to kneel in front of you. Being able to fully see him for the first time since he’s come home, you drink in the sight of him. His own eyes are dark with desire as he takes in the sight of you. 

He kneels in front of you and leans his head against your knee. Its not that you don’t appreciate it, but it’s rare that he’s so indiscreet about his wants. He’s the most cryptic man you’ve ever met—dangerous too. And yet, he’s kneeling before you, looking at you like you’re what makes the world spin. 

He kisses your knee before sliding his hands up your outer thighs and pulling your bottoms down. Once removed and places aside, Hannibal grabs your hand thats laying lip beside you and takes it into your own, clasping your fingers in between yours to hold hand. 

His gaze stays on you, his eyes looking at you with desire and devotion as he gently prys his legs apart with his hand. 

“Hannibal.” You breath, your voice a mix of need and plea. 

He smiles, a sensual curve of his lips that sends a shiver through you, "I want to make you feel everything," he says softly, his breath warm against your skin. "Every touch, every kiss. Let me worship you."

With that, he lowers his head and leans in, his mouth immediately on your most intimate spot which he handles with such precision. His tongue is skilled, flicking and swirling around your clit in a manner that hitches your breath. 

“Fuck.” You swear while he uses his lips and teeth on you, alternating between gentle suction and soft nips.

You feel like he’s eating you alive. 

Your hands grip the soild arms of the chair, head thrown back as he continues his ministrations. You can feel the internal pressure build, the delicious tension coiling tighter and tighter inside you. His one hand presses down on your lower stomach to keep you still, holding you steady as he works you with his mouth. 

“So good.” He lowly hums into you, the vibration from his voice adding to your pleasure. He quickens his pace, moving to a faster rhythm as he removes his hand from yours and probes it around your leaking hole. 

“Please.” You gasp, and that’s all it takes for him to insert his digit inside you. He slowly drags it along your walls, only harshly hitting your sweet spot when you’ve been quiet for a moment. 

You feel yourself getting closer and closer as he sucks and licks; your words become unintelligible and are just as loud as your moans until suddenly, Hannibal pulls away. 

You watch him breathless as he removes both of his hands from you and brings them towards his belt to remove it. You both stare at each other as he unbuttons his trousers and lowers them slightly, just enough to remove himself.

His cock springs free, hard and dripping. He doesn't say a word as he lowers himself down and halts your legs over his shoulders while he dives into your core again. One hand he brings up to your pussy where he pushes two fingers in, moving them fast as his other hand wraps around his shaft. 

His movements are synchronized, moving both his hands at the same time, at the same speed, matching the rhythm. His gaze never leaves yours; the intensity of his glazed over eyes boring into your soul only nears you to your orgasm. 

The sight of him pleasuring himself while his tongue acts on your sensitive core is almost to much to bear. Every flick of his tongue, every movement of his hand causes your eyes to roll back into your skull. 

Hannibals moans reverberate against you, only making you melt more and more. His pace quickens, both on you and himself. As you look at him once again, you can see the strain in his muscles as he gets closer to his own relief. 

You reach down, threading your fingers between his hair and tug, urging him on. “Please Hannibal.” You whine, “Want you to cum.”

He groans at that. “So sweet, always so good for me.” 

His strokes become more frantic, his tongue more insistent. The sight of him on the edge, the feel of his relentless movements on your sensitive clit pushes you towards your climax. 

You feel your body arch towards him as your mind falls blank. The only thing in the world being Hannibal’s continued movements, his tongue on you and his fingers abusing your insides, drawing out your pleasure. 

With a gutteral groan, Hannibal finds his release. His warm cum spilling over his hand, making a mess on the ground below him. 

He collapses onto you, his head leaning against your thigh for a moment before he tucks himself back into his pants and rises. He presses soft kisses on your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, murmuring words of love and praise.

“You’re perfect.” You say quietly against his lips. 

He grins, his canines poking out and revealing themselves. “I could devour you forever.”

[zapreportsblog]

Hiii, so, I don't know if you like the movies/series, if you don't, that's ok. I was thinking about a female reader who's living with Hannibal (don't really care if it's the TV or the movie one) and they're in a relationship, but she never tasted the human flash because she's vegan, buttttttt he started to tell her "it's not the same, humans are the ones hurting animals, mistreating the world, being cruel to anything and everyone, even with other humans", being manipulative, and she decides that It may be true after seeing something bad happening with animals and she tries and feel some sort of revange and that's the only meat she'll ever eat. I got it if you think it's too much or too weird, I just have a thing with Hannibal (??? Weird, I know) but thanks either way ☺️

I had to pause from starting a request because the fact you said “weird ik” caught my attention, there is nothing weird about having a thing for Hannibal I repeat, THERE 👏🏾IS 👏🏾NOTHING 👏🏾WRONG 👏🏾WITH 👏🏾HAVING 👏🏾A 👏🏾THING 👏🏾FOR 👏🏾HANNIBAL 👏🏾

Now lemme get started one this

❝humans are no different from animals❞

✭ pairing : Hannibal lector x reader

✭ fandom : slashers x reader

✭ summary : (y/n) is Hannibal lectors vegan partner and she doesn’t necessarily minds his eating habits but when he brings some things to her attention she begins taking a different approach with her own eating habits

✭ authors note : wow my first hannibal lector story, to be a dick I added this to the vegan lifestyle tag that way if anyone goes there they can find my sick and twisted story :)

✭ slashers masterlist

Hannibal Lecter, renowned psychiatrist and connoisseur of fine cuisine, found himself in an unexpected relationship with (Y/N), a passionate vegan who had never tasted meat. Their connection was both intriguing and complex, as their differing perspectives on food and ethics often collided.

One evening, as they sat together in Hannibal's elegant dining room, surrounded by the opulence of his home, the topic of Hannibal's unique culinary preferences arose. (Y/N), driven by curiosity and a desire to understand Hannibal on a deeper level, mustered the courage to broach the subject. "Hannibal," she began, her voice filled with genuine interest, "I've always wondered why you choose to consume human flesh. It seems contradictory to your beliefs and values."

Hannibal's piercing gaze met (Y/N)'s, his eyes filled with a mix of intensity and understanding. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before responding. "(Y/N), my dear, I understand your concerns and the apparent contradiction that arises from my dietary choices," he replied, his voice smooth and measured. "But allow me to shed some light on my perspective."

He paused for a moment, his fingers delicately intertwining as he continued, "Humans, unlike animals, possess a unique capacity for cruelty and destruction. We are the ones who have caused immense suffering to the animal kingdom, exploiting and mistreating them for our own gain." Hannibal's words hung in the air,

He paused, allowing his words to sink in, before continuing. "Humans are the ones who have caused immense suffering to animals, mistreated the world, and shown cruelty to one another. By consuming those who have committed heinous acts, I am, in a way, purging the world of its darkness."

(Y/N) listened intently, her brows furrowing as she grappled with the complexity of Hannibal's explanation. She had always believed in the inherent goodness of humanity, despite its flaws.

“But Hannibal," she replied, her voice tinged with a mix of concern and disbelief, "isn't it a slippery slope? How can you be sure that you're not becoming the very thing you despise?" Hannibal leaned back in his chair, his expression contemplative.

“I understand your concern, (Y/N). It's a delicate balance, one that I constantly navigate. But by consuming those who have caused harm, I believe I am serving justice in my own way. I am not indiscriminate in my choices; I carefully select those who have shown no remorse for their actions." He paused, his gaze unwavering.

"In a world filled with darkness, I strive to bring balance. By removing the wicked, I hope to create a world where goodness can flourish."

(Y/N) sat in silence, her mind swirling with conflicting thoughts and emotions. She had always believed in the power of compassion and forgiveness, but Hannibal's perspective challenged her deeply held beliefs.

It was now another day, or night in this case. The moon hung high in the night sky as (Y/N) found herself standing in Hannibal's meticulously designed kitchen, surrounded by the intoxicating aroma of a carefully prepared meal. Her heart raced with a mix of trepidation and curiosity, for tonight, she had made a decision that would forever change her perception of the world.

Driven by a desire for justice and a newfound understanding of Hannibal's perspective, (Y/N) had decided to partake in a meal of cooked human flesh. It was a choice born out of a deep-seated anger and a need to reclaim power in a world that often seemed cruel and unjust on animals.

As she sat at the dining table, Hannibal gracefully moved around the room, his presence both comforting and enigmatic. He understood the weight of (Y/N)'s decision and knew that this moment would be pivotal in their relationship.

“(Y/N)," Hannibal began, his voice a soothing melody, "what you are about to experience is a journey of emotions. It is natural to feel a mix of revulsion, curiosity, and even a sense of empowerment. Allow yourself to embrace these emotions, for they are the essence of our shared humanity."

With each carefully plated dish, Hannibal guided (Y/N) through the intricacies of her meal. The first bite, tender and succulent, filled her mouth with a richness she had never experienced before. The flavors danced on her tongue, a symphony of tastes that both intrigued and unsettled her.

As (Y/N) took another bite, her mind began to wander, memories of the injustices she had witnessed flooding her thoughts. She recalled the images of animals suffering at the hands of humans, the pain and cruelty inflicted upon them.

In that moment, the revulsion she had initially felt transformed into a simmering anger, a desire for retribution. Hannibal, ever perceptive, sensed the shift in (Y/N)'s emotions. He approached her with a calm demeanor, his eyes filled with understanding.

"(Y/N), my dear, anger can be a powerful force for change," he said softly. "But it is important to channel that anger towards a purpose, to seek justice rather than revenge. Remember, we are not defined by the darkness within us, but by how we choose to navigate it."

His words resonated within (Y/N), a reminder that her actions were not driven solely by vengeance but by a desire to bring balance to a world plagued by cruelty. She took a deep breath, allowing her anger to subside, replaced by a newfound sense of purpose.

With each bite, (Y/N) experienced a kaleidoscope of emotions. There was a strange satisfaction in consuming the flesh of those who had caused harm, a twisted sense of justice that she couldn't deny. And yet, there was also a lingering unease, a reminder of the fine line she walked between righteousness and darkness.

As the meal drew to a close, (Y/N) found herself grappling with the complexity of her choices. She had tasted the forbidden, walked a path few dared to tread. And in doing so, she had come face to face with the shadows that dwelled within her own soul. Hannibal, ever the guide, reached out and gently took (Y/N)'s hand.

“Remember, my dear, that darkness and light exist within us all. It is our choices that define us, and the way we navigate the shadows that determine our true nature."

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hannibal X Reader: An ethical issue

Summary: you wanna fuck your therapist thats it thats the plot

Warnings: smut, sex, penetration (p in v), fingering, pet names, making out, light choking, light bitting, hickeys, patient x therapist, unprotected sex, pet name (dear), not proof read (got lazy)

Word count: 2,9K

“It's unethical, you know?”

You raise your head to look at Hannibal, eyes making contact with his. He can see the questions swimming inside your head. You’d been deep in thought when he’d spoken and he had managed to break your train of thought . You placed your cup on the table, wiping your hands on your legs before focusing on Hannibal once more.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“It's unethical.”

“What is?”

“Wanting to fuck your therapist.”

Your eyes widen at Hannibal's words. His eyes bore into you, observing the way your face flushed the more he maintained eye contact. You should probably refute him but it's no use. Dr Lecter has seen into the deepest parts of your mind. He knows who you are. And now he knows your secret. The truth is the sessions had really been helping. It wasn't until recently that you’d found an ulterior motive for coming to every session. 

You had a crush on your therapist. 

You focus your gaze on the wall in front of you, trying your hardest to avoid looking directly at him. Your mind races to try and find something to say but you come up empty. From the corner of your eye you see Hannibal stand. He stays standing for a moment, looking at your frame. You close your eyes as you hear his shoes begin to move against the floor. A nervous sigh leaves your mouth as you feel his body move closer to your position. He stops a couple steps before you, causing you to bite the inside of your cheek. You wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. Maybe you should just apologize to him. Tell him he was right and that you would figure out a way to get over him but that would be a lie. And if there was one thing you could never do to Hannibal was lie. He knew you too well. He'd be able to call you out immediately. 

Hannibal watched you squirm slightly, observing your nails scrap against your skin as you rubbed your arms nervously. You still hadn't looked at him. He had already begun to miss the eye contact. Hannibal called out your name.

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Of course you can, my dear. I want to see your eyes.”

His voice sent shivers down your arms. He was always soft spoken with you but the deepness of his voice as he spoke seemed to have shifted. Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. You have to raise your head a bit to see him properly due to the position you were in. Hannibal stared down at you tenderly. He looked at the doe eyed look that had made its way into your features. A smile spread across his face, a silent way of trying to calm you. Unfortunately it did quite the opposite. His smile seemed to stroke the fire that was already burning in between your legs. You shifted in your seat, trying to conceal your desire for him. Hannibal noticed the way you shift under his gaze. It made him feel powerful. He enjoyed it but he also couldn't help but reach out for you. 

“I can help you. If you ask me to.”

You watched Hannibal sink to his knees, allowing him to be face to face with you. You stare into his eyes, head tilting to the side as you do. He reached out for you, one hand moving to caress your thigh as the other made its way to your face. He’s trying his best to hold on, not wanting to go too fast and scare you off.

From the moment he’d first seen you you’d intrigued him. Despite everything you’d been through you were kind and trusting. Maybe even a little too trusting. It made Hannibal feel protective over you. He saw himself as your knight in shining armour and despite you not knowing it he would do anything you asked of him. 

“Hannibal…”

Your lips part as his name slips through them. It sounds almost like a moan which causes blood to go rushing down to Hannibal's groin.

“Yes dear?”

“I…I hum-”

“It’s okay. Tell me what you want.”

“You. I want you.”

A satisfied sound left Dr Lecter's lips at your confession. You shut your eyes expecting him to finally close the distance between you two but he doesn’t. Instead he rises from the floor and begins to walk away from you. You give him a puzzled look. Had he just been toying with you? Was this some sort of experiment? If it was you were sure you’d failed. But if that was the case why had he given you a hum of approval? 

“Come back to the real world dear. Don’t get stuck inside your own head.”

You forced your brain to focus on what was really happening instead of dwelling on negative thoughts. You’d been exercising your focus ever since your first session with Hannibal and you’d gotten pretty good with coming back to reality. Hannibal could tell by the way you looked at him that you'd managed to silence your mind. He gave you a proud smile.

“That's the fastest you’ve ever focused. Well done dear.”

“Thank you.”

“Come sit with me.” 

You rose from your chair, making your way to the blue loveseat Hannibal was sitting in.  You left a small amount of space between you too. The appropriate amount of space you thought there should be between a patient and their doctor. Hannibal couldn’t help but shake his head.

“Always so formal.”

“You’re one to talk. I don’t think I've ever seen you without a suit on.”

“Do you think about that a lot? Me without a suit I mean.”

“More often than I should if I'm being honest.”

It was strange. Despite everything that had happened moments ago this whole conversation still felt extremely professional. You felt like you were in one of your regular sessions. The only difference was the change of topics and the sitting layout. 

“You can come closer. I won't bite.”

Hannibal paused for a moment, turning his head so that he was looking directly in your eyes.

“Unless you want me to.”

He’d expected you to be shocked, perhaps even to get up from your spot due to his bluntness but to his surprise you didn’t. Actually you did quite the opposite. You began to laugh. He’d never heard the sound of your laugh before but he enjoyed it thoroughly. He’d have to make you laugh more often. 

Once your laughter died down you went back to looking at Hannibal. He watched your eyes shift over his face before you lifted your hand. Your fingers grazed against his cheek as you traced his skin. He never broke eye contact, eyes glued to yours even as you caressed his face. 

“I don’t think you have any idea how handsome you are.”

Your statement caught him off guard.  Your soft touches and loving gaze combined with your tender words had managed to make his head spin. For the first time in a while Hannibal felt his stomach bloom with what he could only describe as butterflies. He’d started off this conversation with the intention of touching on a sore subject, your infatuation with him, and had ended up discovering something about himself. It was unethical for you to want him but what was even worse is that he wanted you too. 

He’d moved so quickly that you hadn’t had time to react. Before you knew it Hannibal's lips were crashing into yours. Your body fell down onto the loveset at the force of Hanibal’s kiss, causing you to find yourself trapped beneath him. Your legs widened on instinct, allowing him to slot his large frame between them. Hannibal’s kiss was rough but caring. He nipped at your lower lip as his hands guided you to wrap your arms around his neck. You did as he asked, fingers digging into his shoulders as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. His mouth may have muffled your moans but it couldn't stop you from bucking up into him. You felt the outline of his dick against your thighs causing you to whine.

Hannibal loved the way you felt against him. He loved how your fingers clung to his hair as he kissed you. He loved the feel of your breasts pressed against his chest. But most of all he loved how desperate you were for him. You decided to wear a dress today. You didn’t  even really known why but you were glad you had. 

And so was Hannibal. 

One of his hands traveled down to your clothed cunt his fingers moving to the edge of your dress. He broke the kiss for a moment, leaning his head down so that he could see what he was doing. You watched him push your dress up allowing him to see your underwear. Hannibal’s head snapped up to look at your face. He gave you a small grin.

“Lovely color.”

“Shut u-hum!”

Hannibal’s fingers moved over your lips spreading them open before beginning to insert a digit inside. Your mouth fell open at the feeling, a broken moan slipping from your lips as it did. Hannibal watched your face fill with ecstasy as he continued to finger you. He’d orignally planned on bending you over his desk and fucking you from behind. But now that he’d seen the angelic look that came over your face as he pleasured you he knew he wanted to watch you cum on his dick. He’d fuck you on your back like a gentleman. 

Well, perhaps not like a gentleman. 

He’s barely done anything and you're already babbling nonsense beneath him. 

“Hannibal i-i fuck- there please there.”

“That feel good?”

“Yes please i wanna… i wanna-”

“Tell me what you want dear.”

“I wanna cum. Please make me cum.”

The way you beg for him makes him think the men you’d been with before hadn't really cared about your pleasure. The thought angers him but it also motivates him to show you how good you can feel. He enters a third digit and you can’t help but latch onto him as you cry out.  You pull his body closer to yours and he lets you. He feels your hardened nipples rub against his clothed chest making him want nothing more but to rip off his shirt. Later though, right now he needs to focus. His hand moves expertly against your pussy thumb moving to caress your clip as his fingers continue to penetrate you. You sigh out his name making him lift his head from where he was looking so that he could stare into your eyes. 

“Hanni… I'm gonna cum.”

“Go on then, cum for me.”

It was as if a verbal command was all that you needed to let loose. The second the words had left Hannibal's lips he felt your cum begin to coat his fingers. He watched your lips part, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you spasmed against him.

What a sight you were.

Hannibal removed his fingers from inside you placing a kiss to your temple before he rose to his feet. Your head lolled to the side, trying to follow him despite your blissed out state. Through blurry vision you saw Hannibal remove his suit jacket placing it carefully on his desk chair. He began unbuttoning his shirt slowly. As he did so he watched you come back to earth. Once you’d gained feeling in your body again you turned over, lifting yourself up so that you could watch Hannibal undress. He felt your eyes on him turning to face you. You gave him a smile which he returned.

“How are you feeling dear?”

“Wonderfull.”

“I’m glad. Tired?”

“Not really. Why?”

Hannibal tugged down his pants in one quick movement allowing his dick to spring free. You watched his member bob for a moment before turning your attention back to his face. 

“Because i’m going to fuck you. Take your dress off for me.”

You tugged at the edge of your dress pulling it off your body with ease. Once you’d gotten it off you threw it to the side before moving to unclasp your bra. Hannibal watched you throw your bra in the pile along with the rest of your clothes. 

“Stand for me dear.”

You did as he asked, hands moving to fidget with each other as he made his way back to you. Hannibal placed his hands on your cheek, cradling your face in them. His eyes trailed over your naked body before he gazed into your eyes once more.

“You are magnificent.”

Your lips latched onto Hannibals in desperation, legs moving backwards  towards the love seat. You crashed down onto a small couch once more tugging Hannibal down with you. You thought maybe he’d scold you for your desperation but by the look in his eyes and the feeling of his hard on against your thigh you could tell he needed this just as much as you did. You spit in your hand moving to stroke Hannibal's dick. He groaned against you, allowing you to caress him for a moment. He rested his face against your neck breathing in your scent as you stroked his member. His teeth grazed against your collarbone making you bite your lip. He sucked at your shoulder enjoying the small gasp that left your lips. Hannibal maneuvered his hand so that he could wrap it around your wrist stopping you from moving. 

“That's enough dear. I want to be inside now. Do you want me inside?”

“Yes Dr Lecter.”

Hannibal grined down at you as you gave him a cheeky smile. Without any warning he plunged into you making your body move backwards at the force. He fucked you with incredible speed, hips moving in a pace you didn’t think was possible. You dug your nails into his back as he continued to ram into you.  His hand moved to your throat, fingers wrapping around it with a gentle squeeze. Once he saw you didn’t flinch away from him he tightened his grip around you, not enough to stop your breathing but enough to give you a bit of a thrill. It was embarrassing how fast you reached your orgasm. Before you even realized you had begun spilling your juices around Hannibal's dick. You’d been so high on your own plesure you only noticed when Hannibal let ou a small “fuck” against your ear. Your body sagged into the loveseat as Hannibal continued to pistol into you. For someone whose job consisted of sitting for most of the time he had a lot of stamina. You drifted off into your head only realizing Hannibal had finished when you felt his body fall into yours. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you as close into his as physically possible. You moved to stroke his hair instinctively, the need to touch him consuming you.

“You did so well for me dear. Rest now.”

Hannibal placed a kiss on your chest. You felt him pull out of you making you feel empty. But you didn’t feel that way for long because before you knew it you had drifted off into sleep. 

You woke up on the loveset. Your lips part as you stretch, a yawn escaping your mouth. You could feel something soft surrounding you causing you to open your eyes. A blanket that hadn’t been there when you had fallen asleep was carefully wrapped around your naked frame. You pushed yourself onto your elbow, rubbing your eyes as you gazed around the room. 

“Sleep well?”

Your head snapped at the sound of his voice. Hannibal was standing on the other side of the room with his back turned to you. He was still completely naked. When you didn’t respond to his question Hannibal turned on his heels to face you. Instinctively your eyes trailed over his naked body, your mind going to last night's events. You moved to look at the clock on the wall. It read 9 o’clock.

“Don’t you have any appointments today?”

“I canceled.”

“Why would you do that?”

“So that we could have breakfast together.”

Hannibal moved away from the table he’d been working on giving you a clear view of the breakfast he’d laid out. You rose from the loveseat moving towards him. Hannibal watched you make your way to him, admiring the beauty of your body as you moved. He could see the hickeys he’d left on your neck last night. The sight pleased him greatly.

You looked over the contents of the table. Everything looked delicious. You shifted your gaze to Hannibal, a smile spreading over your face. You wrapped your arms around his waist giving him a hug. Hannibal's arms wound around your body, his hands moving to hold your head. 

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. Now sit. Your food is getting cold.”

The two of you sat down and began to eat. The room was quiet as you ate. It was a sort of quiet you’d become accustomed too. The quiet that came when your mind decided it needed to jump into action.

“What are you thinking over there?”

“What are we gonna do? About us, I mean. We clearly crossed a line yesterday.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No, of course not. Do you?”

“No. I do not.”

“Someone could find out. It could ruin your job.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t. It’ll be our little secret. Patient confidentiality and all that.”

“Our secret huh?”

“Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah. It is.”

“Wonderful. Now drink your coffee and finish your eggs.”

[bumblesimagines]

❛  you should smile more. you have such a beautiful smile.  ❜

❛  i'm only doing this because you asked me to.  ❜

- Hannibal Lecter

❛  i'm only doing this because you asked me to.  ❜

❛  you should smile more. you have such a beautiful smile.  ❜

Pronouns for y/n: he/him/his

"I don't typically invite patients over but I've decided to make an exception for you." Dr. Lecter said as he led you through his house. To be frank, it felt unusual to see him with his sleeves rolled up and the top buttons of his shirt undone. He had always kept a pristine and proper look about him back in the office.

"You live here all by yourself?" You asked upon entering the absurdly large kitchen. Dr. Lecter stepped toward the island with ingredient lied out, motioning with his hand for you to get closer.

Answering your question with a nod, he pulled a cutting board closer to himself. "Do you like it?"

"Do you?" You swept your gaze over ingredients, turning toward him when he didn't respond. He stared at you, eyes almost studying yours before his lip quirked upward and he wordlessly nodded. "Then that's all that matters."

"Are you aware you often deflect questions about yourself?"

"Do I?" You tilted your head and listened to the amused exhale he released. Chuckling softly, you shrugged your shoulders. "I don't know why I do it. Guess that's why I see you."

"You should smile more. You have such a beautiful smile." He complimented softly, reaching for some vegetables and beginning to cut them into small pieces. You felt your skin flush lightly and hummed, watching him work.

"Would you like to give it a try?" He asked, taking a step back and motioning toward the board. You took his spot, wrapping your fingers over handle of the knife. You stared at it for a moment, catching your reflection in the wet blade.

"(Y/N)?"

Blinking out of it, you cleared your throat and grabbed a new vegetable, hesitantly hovering the knife over it. Dr. Lecter chuckled behind you and moved, pressing his chest to your back and placing his hands over yours.

"You've never cut vegetables before?"

"I wouldn't say I'm the best cook. I'm only doing this because you asked me to."

"Then I'll teach you."

[darkfire359]

This one r/fanfiction post: “Is forgiving a character who hit their partner possible?”Me: “Um. Hmm. I’ve maybe strayed too far from the path…”

[oatyoooo]

Fr tho after Will got the orderly to kill Hannibal man was all ‘how rude’ and titted his tat out of pettiness

[carnivorousyandeere]

New oc came to me in a dream but he’s way more of a douchewad than Mika or Brucie. His love language is criticism and horrible philosophical questions. “Tell me, Will” sounding mf. Do you still want him?

[phantomrose96]

With the Reddit 3rd party app crackdown and the ongoing horseshit Elon Musk is pulling with "X", I realize a lot of people here might be pretty new. So I put together a quick and easy guide for using Tumblr for anyone new who might need it.

Tumblr was made by David Karp and we call him Daddy around these parts (^///^)

You are not safe from fandom-gif attacks ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

Speaking of fandoms, the tumblr fandoms are always ready to grab their [object] and go to war against the Beliebers ╰(*°▽°*)╯

The only safe refuge from fandom tumblr is with hipster tumblr. If you can get a cool alt-girl to take you under her wing, you might be safe... for now (●'◡'●)

You will watch the first episode of Supernatural... and then you're part of the Winchester family. (Or if you skip right to season 4, we don't blame you. It's where Destiel starts (*/ω＼*))

This is not a glomp-free zone ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Use missing e. It's the only way to make Tumblr useable on Internet Explorer (this is the most popular browser and you're probably using it right now) :-D

Our only adult-supervision is John Green... and even then does that REALLY count as supervision? DFTBA! φ(゜▽゜*)♪

Just this once, everyone lives. It's bigger on the inside. Elementary, my dear Watson.

If you see Misha Collins staring at you, the polite response is "Saving people, hunting things, the family business." O.O

I might lose followers for this, but this blog supports gay rights, and yours should too (14 gifs of Sherlock and The Hobbit)

Tumblr will teach you more about the world than you'll ever learn in school. ○( ＾皿＾)っ

Tread carefully... we have teh yaoiz O.o. Oh you don't know what that means? Well let's just say... it's full of lemons here.

If you see Hannibal Lector in a flower crown, tell him it looks very nice. His boyfriend Will Graham made it for him. (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Do not enter the dog park. The dog park will not harm you.

[mx-pastelwriting]

hi how are you hope you are well

I wondered how the slashers would react if you hugged them from behind (^-^)/

Oooooo I like this one its so cute to imagine!

I would definitely want to make a full post later down the line with this prompt! As I'm not taking request for full posts at the moment. But heres a bit of what I think!

Slashers x GN! Reader

Summary: Prompt up top^ Small Headcanon!

I'm not open for requests, but little asks on thoughts on something is okay~

Thomas Hewitt: If it were the first time, he would jump a bit, but when realizing it was you, he would melt in your arms. He is such a gentle giant when it comes to love. Learning from it, he would do the same when he caught you with a turned-back.

Michael Myers (78 Michael): Would not understand what you were doing or trying to do. When asking what he was doing by the tone of your voice, he would understand it was another show of affection. Still working on getting used to the feeling of love and how it works, he slowly looks forward to you coming up behind to hug his waist. Little by little, considering trying it himself.

Jason Voorhees: Ticklish, for sure. Hearing him laugh a little as he squirms at your arms wrapped around his waist. Leaving you to tease him a little about it. When doing it again, you learn to do it quickly, making it less ticklish. Jason would only attempt it when having come home and cleaned up, not wanting to get mug and sweat onto you.

Brahms Heelshire: Would love it. Really love it if you get what I'm saying. Putting aside his touch-starved state, he would beg for you to do it again after that. Rarely does it to you, wanting to be the one receiving the hug. Tall man is needy.

Bo Sinclair: Spooked by it. Makes him blush hard, worse when you kiss his neck or back, making his face burn a hot red. Though rarely lets you see him in that state, Bo loves it from the first time you do it. Does it to you as well, attacking your neck and shoulder while chuckling.

Vincent Sinclair: If it wasn't for Lester's romance movies or Bo's special movies, he would have no idea what you were doing. Understanding mostly from Lester's movies to be a loving act, he smiles under his mask, though continues to do what he working on. Moving less to not spook you into letting go.

Lester Sinclair: Getting all blushy and mushy about it. Stopping what he was doing just to melt in your arms. Asking if you could just stay like that for a little longer. It would become a daily thing for the both of you taking any chance to embrace each other.

Hannibal Lector: Wouldn't physically react, greeting you as it happens and smiling, loving every one of your affectionate acts. Continuing to work on whatever he was doing, allowing you to hang onto him, whether in silence or talking about each other's day.

Will Graham: Would chuckle at you hugging him from behind, feeling as his muscles relaxed against your touch. Preferred to let the air stay quiet, with your arms warped around his waist, feeling the fabric of his flannel shirt smelling of aftershave and dog.

I didn't proofread this one too much, but I did put it through a grammar checker, so if there are any mistakes, blame Grammarly.

Hope you liked this little headcanon!

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does give consent to "reblog," sharing links to direct work, and being in recommend lists.

[getmeoutofhell]

Slasher House x f! reader

“y/n, could you come in here for a moment please.” usually when hannibal calls you by your first name, something’s up. you wasted no time and went to where he was.

“yes?” you say, as you feel your nerves rise out of fear. he looks at you, not with anger, but with concern. you raise ur eyebrow, confused. “what’s the matter doctor lector? did i so something wrong again?” you ask.

he squints his eyes at you, before slight shaking his head no. “i’m a little confused y/n. what is this?” he picks up a card with a piece of paper on it. “what is that?” you ask. he shows you a letter with your name as the title of it. your eyes widened at the paper, wondering who the hell wrote it.

“may i see it doctor?” he hands you the letter, before taking a seat in one of the chairs. you begin to open the letter, itching to see which bastard wrote it. no one’s ever wrote you a letter before, so this was different.

‘dear y/n, i hope this letter finds you well.

i’ve been admiring you for some months now, and took some time to get to know you personally.

your eyes, smile, laugh, personality, are a gift to me. i’d rather keep my identity private, so you won’t try and run from me. not like you can anyway. after all you’re mine.

once you find out who i am, you and i will leave this place and move away together. i want you to have my children, carry on our legacy. you’d be a wonderful mother, and a wonderful wife. don’t worry my love, i’ll send more letters soon.

sincerely,

your future husband’

your eyes widened as you read the letter out loud to hannibal. who the fuck is this person, writing this letter to you? hannibal looked at you, before taking a quick breath.

“well y/n, it’s clear that someone in this house is in love with you. would you like help figuring out who it is?” he says.

you don’t know what to say.

part 2

[specialagentlokitty]

Hannibal x teen!reader - i would notice

Hi 👋, i absolutely loved your Hannibal lecter fic so I was wondering if you could do a Hannibal × teen reader with angst or where he maybe saves them from someone or from themselves? If not that's totally fine. - Anon💜

TW: mentions of self harm and suicidal thoughts and neglectful parents

Therapy.

According to everybody that was the solution to everything, all your problems would be solved if you just sat in a room with a stranger supposedly telling them everything about you.

Things you didn’t want anybody else to know.

You didn’t want to attend your sessions, but your parents were paying a lot of money for you to see this therapist, so you went to your sessions.

Though you never really said much, which was something Hannibal picked up on.

“Sometimes I do have to wonder why it is you insist on coming to your sessions if you’re just going to sit here to do homework instead.”

You shrugged a little bit, looking up from where you were sat on the floor.

“I’ve gotta do it somewhere, plus my parents pay for these sessions, it’ll be a waste of money I guess.”

“Do you not think you need it?”

“Everybody has problems I just don’t see the point in talking about it, it won’t change anything.”

“It could make it easier for you.”

You shrugged again and stood up, bringing a work book over to his desk and set it down.

Hannibal took the book so he could look at it while you dragged a chair over to sit next to him while he read through your work.

“Have you finished everything else?” He asked.

“Yeah, it’s just this. I don’t really get it so I thought I’d leave it until last.”

Hannibal nodded his head, taking one of his many notebooks, and he found one with your name on it and opened it.

Over the sessions he had become used to you using the time for your homework, asking him yo help you with whatever it was you didn’t understand.

It actually helped him learn a lot about you, about your possible home life since you didn’t seem interested in talking about whatever problems you were having.

Hannibal explained the problem to you, and he gave you a brief demonstration on how to solve it before giving you the notebook so you could try it for yourself.

“How is school going? Are you still having problems with some of the other students?”

“A little, but I think I solved most of them.”

He hummed a little bit, slowly nodding his head.

“How did you manage that? Did you take my advance and ignore them?”

“Nope.”

You grinned a little bit at your therapist and went back to your homework.

“Shoved a whole bunch of shaving cream and feathers into their lockers.”

“You do realise retaliation in such a way could could make this a lot more complicated for you. They could also possibly get you into trouble as well.”

“Maybe yeah I guess.”

“What did your parents have to say?”

“The usual nothing.”

Hannibal wrote that down in another notebook and he studied you for a moment.

Usually it was obvious why people were in therapy, usually he knew before they came to the sessions or they would have told him by now but you didn’t.

He was having to rely on everything he saw, everything you did and the very few things that you had said.

Your sessions were routine, going the same way nearly all of the of the time.

So he began to notice the change in your behaviour as time went on, it was slight, only tiny changes but he noticed.

You didn’t bring your homework anymore, you would just tell him about your day, the changes in your clothing, you seemed more withdrawn.

Then you began to miss sessions, the first he didn’t think about it, the second he was a little suspicious but when it came to the third and forth he knew there was something more.

So, when he opened his door to see that you weren’t sat in the waiting room he sighed, making his way to the phone to dial your number.

He waited as it rang, and eventually it rang off into voicemail.

Hannibal went through all his files until he found yours and he grabbed his keys and jacket as he left the office.

You were usually the last appointment of the day since you liked to hang around and just spend time with him, which he never added extra costs for.

Making his way to your listed address, Hannibal looked at the large house, very expensive looking and extremely well kept.

He parked in the drive and made his way to the door, knocking a few times, waiting.

The door was opened and you blinked a few times, stepping aside and gestured to the house so you could let him in.

“What brings you by doctor lector?” You asked.

You closed the door.

“Can I take your coat?”

“Ah, yes. Thank you.”

Hannibal handed you his jacket so you could hang it up next to yours by the door, and you led him through to the kitchen where you were before he knocked.

He watched as you carried on cooking your dinner.

“I didn’t know you were coming but you can still have some of you want.”

“No, I’m alright. But thank you. I’m actually here because you haven’t attended your sessions for the past three weeks.”

You nodded your head, setting the spoon down, and you sat on a bar stool.

“Sorry, I keep forgetting to cancel them. I know you have a policy about cancelling and whatever the fee is for not cancelling my parents can cover it.”

“That’s not why I’m here (Y/N), I’m not here about fees for cancelling.”

You seemed a little confused.

“I’m here because it isn’t like you to not turn up to your sessions, I am also aware that you haven’t been attending school recently.”

“How’d you know?”

“I called them.”

“Are you even legally allowed to do that? Can they even tell you that information?”

You were defensive.

You weren’t happy that he had called your school and you were looking for a reason to pin something on him, anything.

“I work rather closely with the FBI, I asked for favour as this behaviour is concerning.”

You nodded your head, going back to whatever your were making and you set it all aside before sitting down on the stool again.

Hannibal was stood on the other side of the counter, flicking through the recipe pages that you had left laying around.

“Can I cancel my sessions?”

Hannibal glanced up at you.

“You can, but I’d still very much like to check up on you at least once or twice a week.”

“Why? I won’t be your patient anymore.”

“Because I know you’re harming yourself, I would like to understand why. What makes you think you need to do that to yourself?”

You froze, and you tugged at your sleeves a little bit, pulling them even further.

“I’ve know for a while, I was hoping you would bring up the subject but you seem to have no interest in talking about what you’re going through.”

Hannibal walked to your cooker, and he took over making your dinner for you while you just sat there staring at the counter.

“What’s the point, it won’t change anything.”

“It can help, but people can’t help you if you won’t let them (Y/N), in order to be helped you must be willing to accept the hand that is offered to you.”

“I can’t be helped.”

You pushed yourself away from the counter you were sat at and left the kitchen, making your way into the lounge instead where you just sat down.

You turned on the TV, putting on some random show and you kicked your feet up on the table.

Hannibal followed you, setting your plate on the dining table, and he walked over, tapping your feet away from the table.

“You can be helped, nobody is beyond help.”

“I am.”

“No you’re not, now come eat and we can discuss whatever it is you’re going through.”

You didn’t bother to argue, you went to eat your dinner while Hannibal left you to eat in peace.

He came back and he set a few tubs down on the table in front of you.

“All of these are prescribed to patients who suffer from depression. How long have you been taking your medication for?” He asked.

“About a year or two, I don’t know.”

He hummed, nodding his head.

“How long have you not been taking them?”

You glanced up.

“You have been filling out your scripts, but you have a whole collection of unopened bottles.”

“About half a year I guess… I don’t know…”

“Do you plan on doing anything with those bottles?”

“No.”

“So I can take them away from you and only leave the one you’re supposed to have?”

You nodded your head.

You didn’t have any use for the old ones that you never took, you just kept filling in the scripts to keep everybody happy.

That wasn’t how you wanted to go out.

No.

You had thought about this night after night after night, and you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

“Are you here alone often?”

“My parents work a lot, they’re usually away most of the year.”

He nodded his head, taking your mostly empty plate away when you pushed it away from you.

You followed the therapist to your kitchen, climbing back up on the bar stool as you looked at him.

“Can I take a look at your arm, I would like to ensue that you don’t need any further medical attention.”

You moved your arm closer to yourself.

“Alright, that’s okay. You don’t need to show me, but I do need to know if you’re taking care to prevent infection.”

“Yeah, I know about all that stuff.”

“Good, now since you refuse to come to our sessions I will come here. A few times a week to ensure that you’re taking care of yourself.”

He did.

He kept coming by, he would talk to you, try encourage you to open up to him.

The one thing he noticed is how lonely the house seemed to be, the lack of family photos, the lack of friends around to the lack calls from your parents.

Hannibal arrived at your house like always, the first thing he noticed this time was that there was two other cars in the driveway.

Making his way up to the door he knocked, and a man answered.

“Hello, is (Y/N) home.”

“Who are you?” The man asked.

“My apologies, I’m doctor lector, their therapist. (Y/N) didn’t want to come to the office anymore so we’ve been continuing sessions here, I assume you are their father?”

“Yes, and I don’t know where they are. Look, I’m busy, go check their room or something I have meeting.”

Your dad left the door open and Hannibal walked in, making his way up the stairs to your room and he knocked on the door.

When you didn’t respond he knocked again.

“I’m opening the door.” He announced.

He pushed your door open and looked around to see that you weren’t there either.

Sighing, he made his way back to his car and tried to call your phone once more, but you never picked up.

He decided to head back to the office, deciding that he’d try and find you again tomorrow.

Hannibal didn’t know about your hideouts, where you liked to go or even have a slight idea on where you would go.

And that’s where he found you, sitting in the waiting room, and he walked over, crouching down in the front of you.

“I’ve been trying to find you.” He said gently.

You looked up, and you sniffled a little bit.

“Why do my own parents hate me…?” You asked.

Your voice cracked, and you leant back, tilting your head back to try and fight the tears that were burning your eyes.

“Let’s talk inside.”

He stood up, opening his door and you walked inside, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

Hannibal sat in the chair in front of you, offering you a few tissues which you took.

“What makes you think your parents hate you?”

“They’ve been home for two days… haven’t even spoken to me… haven’t even looked at me… it’s like I don’t exist…”

He nodded his head.

“I.. I.. it’s like if I died they wouldn’t even care… you know? They wouldn’t even notice…”

That was enough to catch his attention.

“Do you think about dying?”

“Sometimes… I know nobody would really notice.. life would carry on…”

“That’s not true.”

You looked up at him.

“I would certainly notice, life would be very different without you in it.”

You scoffed a little bit.

“You have to say that, it’s your job.”

“If you recall you left my services, it’s not my job to say that.”

Hannibal smiled slightly at you.

“I say it because I mean it, I do worry for you, I would notice your absence if you were to die, which is why I have to ask if you plan on acting upon this urge you have.”

“Sometimes but I.. I just can’t… you know?”

He nodded his head.

“I will admit this is rather concerning, I do have to wonder if for your own safety I have you placed in psychiatric care for a few days.”

“No! Please don’t…”

Hannibal thought for a moment, wondering what to do.

“If that’s the case then perhaps we can think of something else, in order to ensure your safety and a plan to help you through these feelings and urges that you are having.”

You nodded, agreeing with this.

The first step was for you to tell him everything you had been avoiding telling anybody this whole time, then he would come up with a care plan for you to help with your recovery and show you that you were important to this world

[dilfdemolisher]

PERSEPHONE - CHAPTER ONE

“Persephone, queen of the underworld. Hades runs Hell, but she’s in charge of punishment.”

Series Summary: A serial killer who works with the police herself has a tumultuous past with Jack Crawford and his new profiler Will Graham. While trying to rebuild what she once broke Hannibal Lecter sticks himself in the middle of the few things she cares about. Comments and critiques are encouraged.

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, tiny reference to reader being a murderer lol, brief mention of child death, body horror, murder, descriptions of torture, Jack and reader arguing and not shutting tf up.

Word Count: 3.7k

A series of loud knocks on your office door interrupt your typing. “Come in.”

Your face stays looking at your screen, continuing your rhythmic clicking of the keyboard. You know who it is; you can see his burly stature in your peripheral vision, not to mention the way you can feel the energy sucked out of your body the moment he walks into the room. A trait that he has unknowingly tortured you with, a trait that is distinctly-  “Jack.” You state, breaking the tension. 

“It's good to see you.” What the fuck does he need. 

“I’m writing up the blood report for the Anderson case. Give me… 25 minutes, it’ll be yours.” You say, briefly glancing at him. You see that look in his eyes; he needs something, and his gaze is too sympathetic for a request for a blood report, let alone a blood report for a case he has nothing to do with. 

“Could you take a moment?” He’s frustrated, or maybe embarrassed; your lack of interest is not leaning in his favour. A part of you blissfully believes that if you stay apathetic towards him, he’ll walk out of your office. Maybe he’ll stomp, leave the door open just to peeve you, but nonetheless, you’ll be left alone to continue to describe the direction of the arterial spatter left on the blue living room curtains that clashed against the yellow cigarette stained walls.

In the corner of your eye, you can see him move closer, taking four deliberate steps closer. But that's all it takes for his black suit to transform into navy blue and for his sour look on his face to become clear as he firmly places his calloused hand on your shoulder. 

“I-I need you.” He sighs. He’s letting me know that he’s putting himself in a vulnerable position and that he doesn't want to be here either. “Eight girls are missing with no bodies.”

Your fingers freeze over your keyboard and cease typing. “That's not my problem, Jack. No body, no blood, no me.” As much as you try to swallow your annoyed tone, it slips out of your mouth before you can sand it down to a polite, soft refusal.

He pulls his hand away. “Elise Nichols, 19. She was supposed to house sit for her parents and take care of their cat-” 

“I’m trying to finish something Jack-” 

He interrupts your interruption. “Same height, weight, age, eye colour, hair colour as all these missing INNOCENT girls, and you don't care?!” He’s trying to make you feel guilty, obligated. But why must he disrupt your workplace? 

With a deep inhale, you answer, glaring at the blue light emanating from your monitor. “I’m back to doing blood work, Jack. I left the business of profiling, and I already have things here I am obligated to do.” Like more paperwork and plans for the plastic wrap in your trunk.

“I talked to your lieutenant, and she's more than willing to alleviate you of any duties; there's people on the forensics team to tie everything over without you.” He tries to reason, and if anything frustrates you more that he talked to your boss first. He may have had the assumption that you would jump at the opportunity, that everything would be water under the bridge, and that you two would walk out of the building holding hands and skipping gleefully. Or maybe he would need to convince you, but the second he put his hand on your shoulder, you’d understand. That you two would look at each other and have a silent understanding of what must be done, that you’d forgive him, and that you would remove the burden off his shoulders and cradle against your heart.

“But they can’t do what I do, like I do.” You quip.

“Which is exactly why I need you, not even for the full run just…” He breaks off his sentence and drags a hand over his eyes. He inhales through his nose and out of his mouth in an attempt to ground himself. “We’re going to Minnesota tomorrow, and I’m asking you to join.”

Unfortunately, Jack hasn't changed much; he’s such a stubborn Taurus man. “And I’m declining. I’m not going to argue with you Jack. I’m sure this wasn't an easy thing to do or ask from me, and I’m sorry for disappointing you but I can’t do this. I’m not the same person anymore, and I’m not going to be helpful.” 

His expression softens with a margin of sympathy. You didn't think he was expecting you to acknowledge the elephant in the room; in all honesty, you weren't either. 

There's an uncomfortable silence laid across you both. It's his turn to speak, yet, he’s having trouble finding his words. “I doubt much has changed about you in what? 22 months?” He counters, It's a weak reply; he’s nearing his end of this discussion. He'll leave with his head hung low with the files still gripping his left hand, and you will continue typing up yours. 

“I don’t want to keep disagreeing with you Jack, but you keep making me and it's hurting my feelings. I don't want to do this.” It's your turn to be vulnerable, candour? No, but making it seem like he just tore the stitches off an open wound is the way to fast-track his guilt and exit. It’s time for you to sustain eye contact for the first time during this conversation. 

“I’m tired, Jack. I’m still trying to gather the missing pieces of who I was that broke off.” You plead with him. 

“So you break off all personal relationships you have, Will Graham.” I’m sorry, what about Will?

He said it to pique your interest, and he did. What an asshole. You can’t not ask how he’s doing. The itch to know how he’s been spending his days is an impossible thing not to scratch, plus, this is your best-no, least creepy way. You could find one of his students, email them, and ask how their professor seems to be doing. Ask if he’s gotten a new haircut. Glasses? A dog? That’s a completely normal thing to do. Or you could ask Alana. Fuck no. 

“You’ve been talking to Will?” You say before looking back towards your computer screen, you can’t help but be a bit ashamed of how easily he hooked you in. 

He spins the arm of your chair and spins it 90° to face him. “He’s assisting with this case.” 

You can feel the intensity of his gaze as he waits for your reaction. “I hate to sound narcissistic, but did he join you with the understanding that I would also be assisting?” You have to know if he’s still thinking of you. You know he’s not fond of Jack, so you can’t help but wonder why he agreed. 

He pops his chest out like a fucking bird, trying to assert dominance. “He’s not. We were meant to fly out tonight but I wanted to ask you first.” 

“You halted the investigation of a case to request my help?” He feels a sense of responsibility to help you; he still cares about you; or he is still guilty enough that he wants to right his wrongs. Maybe if you help him and save another girl's life per his request, all will be forgiven. But he’s still so career-driven that the only way your pain could be absolved would be work-related. You would have settled for a heartfelt apology; hell, you would have settled for a fruit basket if it meant his emotional harassment would cease.  

“That is immensely stupid. For someone who seems to be so invested in this case I find it ridiculous that you would halt an investigation for a one-ended conversation.”

Jack grunts out something unintelligible before grabbing his phone. 

“What?” You say, if he’s going to make a remark you’d rather it be audible instead of under his breath. 

“Would you like me to call Graham?” He says with pursed lips, tapping his finger on the side of his phone. He’s taunting you; you stay silent until he flips it open. 

You stand up and attempt to snatch the device out of his hand before he quickly pulls it out of your reach. “What the fuck is wrong with you Jack?!”

“What is wrong with YOU! You can prevent this girl's death and you’re not doing it because of what? Pride? I’m sure if you just read the files you would give valuable input!” He shouts. 

Now this is becoming a serious problem. “You do not get to come to my workplace and disrupt me and my coworkers.” You say sternly, and you jab a finger into his chest before continuing. “If you’d like me to read the files for your peace of mind, and for you to know that there's nothing I can add that you can't I will.”

“Then do it.” He growls. 

“Under one condition.” You add, “You take Will Graham off this case. Actually, you just leave him alone.”

He pauses for a moment, actually considering it. You can feel the tension in the room deflate as he contemplates the idea. “I-” He starts, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, but I can't do that. If you're not going to be involved in this case I need Graham.” He answers. 

You feel your heart fall to your stomach. Will shouldn't be working under Jack; he’s selfish and greedy when it comes to his agents. He’ll push Will, won’t listen to him when he asks to stop, and won’t force him to stop when he gets too immersed. 

“I’ll look at the case file and talk to you when I get off.” You say with an exhale, you can feel the tension in your neck. You turn your back to him and sit in your chair. “Leave it on my desk.”

He doesn't reply, but you can feel his stare. It's been silent for so long that you're about to say something, but he beats you to it. “Thank you.” He says so quickly that you're not even sure if it happened; before you can even look back at him, he walks out of your office. 

2 YEARS EARLIER

You hop out of your car onto the pavement, a street filled with police cars, no parking; you had to park down the street. The more steps you take, the more clearly you can see the spectacle in front of you. Press arguing with the police, concerned neighbours chatting to each other in between bites of their nails. You make your way in front of the house; it's no more than a one-bed, one-bathroom place. 

“This is a crime scene. I need you to leave; you can’t be on the property mam.” You hear from your right, and when you turn your head, you see an officer. 

“I’m forensics.” You say, walking past him and flashing your laminate, Does he just think you carry around this heavy ass bag and camera for fun?

The front door to the home opens slightly. Jack exits and immediately closes it behind him. As he turns around to scan the front yard, his eyes fall on you. “I need you in here now.” He shouts while pointing at you. If the audience outside of this house wasn't enough to convince you this is a bad one, Jack's tone does. 

The closer you get to him, the urgency in his body language becomes more apparent, his foot tapping on the wood below him. Once you make it to the steps on the porch, Jack begins to speak. 

“I’m going to need you to prepare yourself for this one; it's bad.” Well, there goes holding onto any hope.

“I’ve seen my fair share of 'bad'; I think I can handle it.” You say as you reach for the door knob, his hand on your wrist stops you. 

“I know you have, but I’m serious. I’ll open the door; you go first.”

“Okay?” You say, Jack's not one for dramatizing a crime scene. Two parts of your brain are arguing, half telling you to go turn tail before you see something you can't unsee. But the other part of yourself, the morbid, dirty part, wants nothing more than to see whatever gruesome scene is inside. 

Jack barely opens the door, just enough for you to squeeze through without any of the plethora of onlookers on the street to see. But before you can even take a step in, your senses are swarmed with a putrid smell. You’ve smelled a lot of dead bodies—badly decomposed ones with bugs living in bodily cavities. Or worse, children. Or worse then that, badly decomposed children with bugs living in bodily cavities. Before you can fully step into the house, the sight you see stops you in your tracks. 

You’re greeted with the living room upon entry and the kitchen to your left. There's no sofa, no coffee table, no TV, nothing; the room is free of furniture, though not empty. Taking centre stage is a large naked man, caked in what you presume to be mud, kneeled completely naked face down in the feeding trough in front of him. 

“What the fuck?” You look back at Jack, waiting for some sort of explanation. 

He steps inside and closes the door behind him. “No one had seen him for a while; one of the kids in the neighbourhood got curious and crawled through the doggy door and found him.” 

“Holy shit.” You even get anything intelligent to come out. Your brain just stopped working correctly. It's awful and horrible. You should be thinking about how much this man suffered and how traumatized that poor child must be, but all you can think about is how disgusting he looks.

Jack walks towards the body and holds it’s head up with his latex-covered hands; once it's held vertically, you see something attached to the corpse's head. You almost don’t believe it at first. You grab a pair of gloves for yourself out of your bag and slip them on as you walk forward; all of it gets worse as you get closer.

His fat grey face is covered in what you’re assuming to be pig feed; his bloated face isn't the issue; it's the two real pig ears attached to the top of his head. Upon closer inspection, you see that his head seems to be freshly shaved and the ears sutured to him. It’s not the worst attachment, though most sorts of medical professionals could be ruled out as perpetrators, the stitching is far too messy for that. Unless he was fully conscious.

The skin is severely discoloured around the animal's ears. Not only was he alive during it, but from what appears to be a severe infection around them, he was likely living with it for multiple days.

Before you can even collect your thoughts, Jack's voice interrupts you. “There's a tail too.” He says while nodding towards the man’s behind. Your mouth tries to make a noise of acknowledgement, but you fail to as you can't stop staring at the rings of dried blood and pus around the base of each ear. 

“If you want to take a moment, he had a backyard. It's fenced in, but I'd still watch out for anyone with cameras; I’m pretty sure Zeller’s out there.” You hear him say, It sounds so fuzzy, everything feels so fuzzy, actually. 

“I’m fine, just dissociating, I think.” You say, still not looking at Jack. “I’m blood, Jack. There's no blood, why am I here?”

He stands up, his knees cracking from no longer crouching. “Bedroom.” He simply states before walking to the left side of the house. As you follow him down the short hallway and take a glance into the bathroom, you stop as you see Beverly’s back blocking the view and entry.

“What's-” Before you finish, Bev moves to the side, giving you a full vision of the washroom. The floor was coated in a thick layer of dried mud. As you creep forward, you see the bathtub filled with what looks to be about two whole feet of mud.

She turns around to look at you, she looks so overwhelmed. You're not sure what to say to her or how you’re meant to console someone in this situation. Beverly rarely shows her her stress, but right now, she's wearing it visibly like it's one of her cheap fough leather jackets. You give up on trying to find anything to say, but she doesn't seem to mind; in fact, she seems just as silent as you. 

Your brain finally kicks into work mode. You walk away from Bev and towards Jack, he says nothing as he opens the bedroom door for you. The bed is covered with layers of blood, and the bedside table has a bloody needle and black thread looped through it. 

“I don't understand why he left it all here—he cleaned up everything, removed all the furniture. Why?” You hear Bev say behind you. You didn't even hear her walk in, but you suppose you were a bit preoccupied. Jack's silence is unnerving as you try to piece together the gruesome scene in front of you. The realization sinks in that this killer wants to leave a lasting impression on his victims. 

"He desires for us to feel repulsed." You think out loud. “He wants us to see every bit of torture the victim incurred, even if it risks leaving evidence; or maybe he’s confident he didn't leave any.” The victim—who is the victim?

“Do we have an ID?” You inquire, looking at Jack.

Jack clears his throat before speaking. “Cristopher Myers, 43, unemployed, living on disability.” He approaches the bed from the right side. “We don't have any DNA, only bootprints.”

At that, Beverly smiles. “You haven't let us work our magic yet.” She says before walking out of the room, boots clicking behind her. 

You sigh, realizing you have a lot of work ahead of you. You will have to survey every single thing. “Where do you want me to start?” You ask. 

Jack starts to say something, then stops, not even sure where to start. “Well how do you think this began?” 

“Not sure, but there were ligature marks on the victim's wrists, which I'm assuming he used while…operating on him, but I don't see any restraints. Unless they are around here somewhere else, he may have disposed of them elsewhere. I’ll ask Bev to see if there's fibres left in the wounds, they’re shallow but he still tugged on them enough to dig in; they look like rope marks, I think.”

He hums back, his eyes still fixed on the bloody bed. “I’ll ask her, you do your work.”

"All right." You say. “I’m gonna start taking some pics. Can you back up?” Jack doesn't respond, just walks out of the room. His footsteps halt, and his voice resounds through the walls. His voice is quiet but you can assume he’s giving Beverly directions. 

As you remove your camera from its case, you reason that it does not concern you and that you should focus on your work. Time to take some seriously macabre photography. 

You gaze into your microscope, blood sample 24; every piece of DNA discovered at the site belongs to the victim. "I can’t concentrate with your moaning, it's distracting." You grunt.

Jimmy lets up on his pacing behind you. "I feel like I’m at a dead end; I am not complaining, I am frustrated." He mutters, frustrated. 

“And I feel like you need an Ativan, Jimmy.” You can't focus with someone whining in your ear. 

"You’re not helping at all." He states.

"I still need to go through eight more samples and write a blood report, so go bug your work husband." Jimmy rolls his eyes and walks away, muttering a response under his breath. You take a deep breath and refocus on analyzing the slide in front of you.

This one was a droplet from the floor, likely from the nasal cavity, with the nasal mucus you can see. Yum.

The victim didn’t seem to have any nasal bleeding. He didn’t seem to have any blood around any visible orifices, actually. You grab the phone and call Jack. 

“Hello.” You hear his static voice. 

You clear your voice before speaking; you want to sound clear. "Hey, how much longer till we get the coroner's report? I think I might have found something.”

Before you can even get out the second syllable of your final word, he interrupts. “What.”

“Um, I’m going to test the blood to be sure if it’s a match to the victim anyway, but I found blood from a nasal cavity, and I don’t think it’s from the victim.”

It’s silent on his end for a moment. “I’ll fax a copy over to you when I get it, you do the same when the results come back. And I want to be the first person you tell the results too.”

“Yes sir.” You say before he hangs up. 

A part of you knows the results already, you know that the sample isn’t the victim’s.

PRESENT DAY

You pick up the file that Jack threw on your desk. You're done for the day, you should get in your car and go home. But it’s like you feel a physical string wrapped around your wrist that's tugging you towards the yellow file.

Fuck it, you think as you snatch it off your desk. As you read through the file, you understand more and more why Jack wants you to be a part of this case. And you understand why he was desperate enough to ask Will for help despite the contempt they hold against each other. 

You sigh as you grab your phone—your mobile, not the one sitting on your desk. You can’t call Jack; you're too bullheaded to call and verbally admit defeat. You type your message and hope that he still has the name number, you don’t think you could handle the heightened level of awkwardness that showing up unannounced would cause. 

You take a deep breath before hitting send. You still feel unsure about your rash decision to join the case as you stare at the two words you sent to Jack. 

“I’ll come.”

chapter 2

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 6

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: ⚠️ explicit 18+ ⚠️ murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, oral fem!receiving, borderline degradation, orgasm dinial, bondage (hands being bound), blatant Billy x Stu stuff

Part 1

Stu pressed his face into Billy's shoulder running from the sunlight. "It's too early." He whined pulling his friend closer to him. Billy held him for a moment forgetting where they were. "Shit, where is she?" He pushed Stu away pulling the covers off himself. Stu dragged a pillow over his head hoping to drown out the light. Billy got out of bed heading down the stairs to the kitchen. The smell of food filled the air hitting him the moment he left your room.

"Morning sleepy head. How do you like your eggs?" You smiled at his current state. His hair was messy and his eyes were dark with sleep. "Uh over medium?" 'This couldn't be real' he thought to himself. It was all adding up now the house, the absent parents, you, it wasn't real. Some really realistic and very long dream. Maybe he was in a coma? If you were real you'd be almost as fucked up as him.

"Did you know you snore just a tiny bit?" You asked as you flipped his eggs. "I don't snore. Must've been Stu." He took a drink of the prefilled glass of orange juice in front of him. "It was definitely you. I kept waking up with your face in my neck and your snores were really loud next to my ear." Was that embarrassment he was feeling? "Sorry about that." He paused thinking of his next words. "So you're not mad that we slept in bed with you?" Bacon, eggs, and a perfect pancake laid next to each other on the plate. You nodded thinking that would be enough.

"I told you if it got too cold you could climb in bed with me." You sat his plate down making sure to leave him syrup. "Can I have a second plate? I don't like my eggs to touch my other food." You raised your eyebrows with a nod. "Sure thing." You handed him a saucer plate that came with the set. "How much do you remember last night?" You remembered all of it. The little tired act you pulled was a sham. A test is what you'd call it. Luckily they passed. "Listen Billy, I don't care about whatever's going on between you and Stu. This doesn't change anything." Billy could laugh. "You think I'm a homo?" His face was plastered with a sort of dumbfounded expression. "No, I just think you're Billy."

"I'm not like that. Stu's always been the one to bat for both teams." You pursed your lips with a nod. "All I'm saying is, you don't have to lie or hide. We've all got secrets and I'm not going to judge you in the slightest." You were wrong. But Billy focused on the underlining meaning of all you said. "What if I told you I was psychotic?" Billy asked no sign of a joke. "I'd tell you I was too." He bit off a piece of bacon. "And what if I said I was a stalker?" You laughed. "Me too. When I walk by a classroom I know you or Stu's in I look for you both just to watch you for a second, that's stalker behavior."

Billy almost choked on his food. God you really were innocent. "What's so funny?" You said laughing along side him. "Okay... What if... I said I've murdered people." You frowned. Does he really think he's that bad? "You're not a murderer." You said as you poured syrup on your pancake. "I know, but if I was what would you say?" You actually thought about it. Four days you've known him now, that's not enough to constitute a prison sentence for harboring a fugitive. "There's a reason for everything. I'd ask you why you did it."

"There's not always a reason, a "motive." I mean did Norman Bates have a motive? Did they ever really decide why Hannibal Lector liked to eat people?" The food in your mouth didn't seem as good as before. "Your logic is flawed Billy. Norman killed his mother because she was abusive and neglectful when was a child. That's motive. He murdered every woman he found attractive because his Mother's personality would be jealous and she needed Norman all to herself. Motive. And he murdered that cop because he didn't want to be caught. Once again motive." Billy sat wide eyes staring at you.

"Oh and Hannibal Lector was also abused as a child. In the book it says his sister was killed by some men who had taken Hannibal and his sister captive. They murdered his sister in front of him and then cooked her eventually serving pieces of her to Hannibal. You could look at it like a revenge plot that's motive or later on he shows obvious signs of narcissism. He thinks he is above everyone so eating them really isn't a problem. We eat animals because we think our lives mean more right?" Billy just nodded.

"Okay so if Hannibal thinks he is better and his life means more than everyone around him then is it really even cannibalism to him? He's completely detached so that's also motive. He's simply hunting his next meal like we would a pig or a cow." You took a drink of your orange juice waiting for a response. Billy was speechless. "You're not the only one who knows stuff Billy." You spoke finishing off your food. "I'm beginning to realize that."

Stu finally came downstairs and he finished up everything that was left over from your talk with Billy. "Do you always cook like this?" Stu asked wiping his mouth with a napkin. You washed dishes as the boys sat at the table. "When my dad is home I do. I don't really need to fix a whole meal if I'm the only one here." That made Stu think of what it was like for you here all alone. He hated being home alone it was like he was 10 years old and scared of the dark. Every little noise would make him paranoid. It wasn't until Billy moved in that he felt safe. Maybe you just needed someone to make you feel safe?

Stu had pulled out the deck of cards begging you and Stu to play rummy with him. That was an hour ago. "She is kicking our asses." Stu said as you shuffled the cards again. "Ooh okay I've got a question. Do guys try to create fake scenarios before they go to bed?" Both boys looked confused as you dealt the cards. "Like girls, before we go to bed we'll think of our crush or an actor and we'll plan out our own little movie in our head." You grew uncomfortable with the fear you sounded insane. "I've fantasized about things before bed." Stu said and Billy nodded in agreement.

"No that's not the same thing. Like you and Tatum. Do you plan little dates and stuff like that in your head?" Stu made a "pfft" noise looking at Billy who was smiling. "He's never taken her on a date. They just run around together." Your jaw dropped. "I have got to tell her to raise her standards." Stu sat down his cards interested in the conversation. "Okay Ms. Crocker what are you standards? I'm guessing you're very Catholic." He laughed and you made a face at him.

"First of all the guy I'm with has to take me out every once in awhile. Bring me flowers, write me notes, anything really to show he still cares." Billy didn't believe that. You might want that in some romanticized version of them but you knew that it wasn't realistic. "I've known you for almost a week and I can already tell you fall in love with anyone who gives you 5 seconds of attention."

You acted shocked at the incredibly correct description of you. "Whatever. Can't a girl want someone to take her out and show her off? I'm a prize and I will be treated as such." Billy finished of his drink sitting the glass down with a click. "Until the first guy that comes along says he liked your outfit and then you're ready for marriage." You really couldn't argue with that. "Yeah pretty much."

"I'm bored. Winning time after time does get a little old." You said putting down your cards. "We could play truth or dare." Billy looked between you and Stu deciding to do whatever you wanted to do. Truth or dare was a kids game. One you were skilled at playing. "I'm game unless Billy's chicken." You elbowed him playfully. "I never say no to a game."

You and the boys moved to the living room floor. Stu laid on his stomach, his chin resting on his palms. Billy however was sat criss cross his posture straight and on edge. "You go first since it's your house." Stu suggested. "Um okay. Stu, truth or dare?" He kicked his feet in thought. "Dare." You hated thinking of dares it was the hardest part of the game.

"I dare you to put on lipstick." Billy breathed out a laugh. "Do I get to pick the color?" Stu asked not at all phased by the dare. "Sure let me go grab my makeup bag. You jumped up running to your bathroom. Just as fast you ran back to the living room. "I've got pink, red, maroon, black, and orange."

"I'm about to waste my turn on making you wear the black." Billy said, surprised you owned such a color. "I went through a phase." You laughed as Stu grabbed the red. You gave him the compact you brought in letting him slowly smear on the waxy pigment. "How do I look?" He flipped his imaginary long hair. "Actually you pull it off." You said staring at his lips for a little too long. "Billy, truth or dare?"

Billy looked at Stu not ready for him to pick a dare. "Truth." You once again saw a silent conversation playing across their eyes. "Have you ever made a sex tape?" Stu said looking his friend up and down. "I knew you'd eventually bring up sex." You huffed with a laugh. "I have not. I'm more of a picture man myself." Billy locked eyes with you making your cheeks grow hot. "Truth or dare Y/n?" You didn't feel at ease by picking either of those. Go big or go home was what your grandparents always said.

"Dare." Stu proceeded to make the "ooh" sound as if someone just got into trouble. "I dare you to play the rest of this game with your hands tied." If your face wasn't hot before it was burning now. "Now that's a dare baby!" Stu shouted kicking his feet like a school girl. You looked around the room for something to get the job done. You grabbed a scarf sitting on the end table by the couch. "Which one of you knows how to tie a knot?" Both boys volunteered but Billy was the one to actually do it. "Don't rip it, it's vintage." Billy rolled his eyes roughly tugging your arms towards him. His quickness in wrapping your wrists was making you wonder how many times he's done this before.

"There you are." He marveled at his work for a moment. You pulled back resting your bound hands in your lap. "My turn!" You cheered. "Wait, you're not going to try to get out of it? See if the knot is good?" Billy expected you to pull at the knot with your teeth just to show him you could. Thinking back to the little race you had at the mall you seemed like the type to try to show people up. That was one thing about you he didn't care for. "No? You told me to keep my hands tied for the rest of the game."

You saw his pupils dilate just a little. It was like catching lighting in a bottle to you. Billy liked the fact you mindlessly followed orders. You were a smart girl but you were dumb for him. "Truth or dare?" You asked Stu ready to continue the game. "Um... Hmm... Let me think?" His sarcasm made you bite your lip to stop from smiling. "Dare." You had one in mind already and it was hazardous. If this didn't go as planned it wouldn't be good for anyone in the room. On the flip side of that if this went how you were sure it would you three would be great friends from here on out.

"I dare you to sit on Billy's lap for the next round." Stu snapped his neck turning to Billy but the brooding boy kept his eyes on you. Billy wanted to know your angle. The reason you did things. You said it yourself everyone has a reason for doing something. What was yours? "Is that alright man?" Stu asked and Billy nodded with a huff. "Just get over here." Stu didn't need to be told twice. He mouthed a quick "thank you" making you smile. You saw Billy's eyes shut in what could be perceived as pain as Stu wiggled around trying to get comfortable. "Stop. Moving." Billy placed his hand on Stu's thigh keeping him still.

"It's my turn right?" Billy asked while he leaned back, one arm propping him up off the ground. "Sure is." Stu quipped. "Truth or dare?" At this point you'd look like a chicken if you said truth. "Dare." Billy's tongue swiped over his teeth before he spoke. "I want you and Stu-y here to make out." He smacked his friends back borderline hurting him. You didn't plan for that and by the looks of it neither did Stu. "I can't leave your lap remember?" The boy on his lap spoke. "You don't have to, she can crawl over." He spoke matter of factly. "I don't remember being dared anything." You challenged. "You said you wanted us to make out. That might say something about you but it's not a dare."

"You're a smartass." He spit playfully. "I dare you and Stu to make out. Is that better sweetheart?" Billy spoke the last word with a condescending tone. Which given the context, you'd pay to hear it again. "Perfect." You crawled over to the boys sitting back on the heels of your feet. Stu leaned down whispering an affirmation. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to." You weren't sure if the sudden sweet nature was because of where he was sitting or if it's always been there and you just haven't noticed.

A silent nod was all he needed to press his lips against yours. Stu was scared to move. He had that feeling you only get when you're about to drop off the highest spot on a rollercoaster. He wasn't quite sure where to go from here. You moved your lips against his showing him you were okay. Gently his hand cupped your jaw the same way he did with Tatum the other night. This wasn't commanding however he was simply holding you in the best way he could. Billy grunted as Stu's hips began to move again subconsciously.

The polite kisses became hungry as he pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth. A soft moan could be heard coming from you. Billy had seen enough. He grabbed his friends shoulders pulling him back. You caught your breath as you looked at the ground. Stu's face was bright crimson in embarrassment but Billy couldn't ignore the love drunk expression on his partners face. You were done playing truth or dare. "Can you untie me?" You held out your hands towards Billy trying to ignore the obvious tent in his pants. Slowly he made his way over to you crawling like a predator stalking it's prey.

"No, the dare was you had to keep them tied till the end of the game." You shook your head with an awkward laugh. "Well truth or dare is over." His face was a breath away from yours. "You're right but our game isn't over." Stu watched as Billy pressed his lips onto yours. You picked up right where you left off with Stu. In a way the short haired boy felt cheated on. He felt he went through a whole relationship with you in that one little kiss and now he watched his best friend take what was never his to begin with.

Billy hovered over you as he laid you back against the floor. Pulling his lips away he noticed how every single person here had rid lipstick smeared along thier face. "Stu come here, I need your help." You turned your head watching your friend fumble over towards the both of you. "Keep her busy like you were earlier. Can you do that for me baby?" Billy asked as his hand held Stu's chin. He nodded earning a gentle tap on the cheek from his friend. "Good boy." You watched their whole dynamic change right in front of you. Suddenly all Billy had was pet names and Stu was practically silent.

Stu was waiting for something but he wasn't sure what. "Please..." You whispered pushing him a step further. He leaned his head down kissing your neck. Softly at first leaving a small trail of kisses across your collarbones. Then he began licking and sucking at the skin trying not to leave a mark. Small sounds fought their way up your throat presenting themself like a gift from God to Stu. You really didn't care where Billy went as long as Stu continued what he was doing.

He nibbled at your earlobe forcing you to rub your thighs together. You barley felt your shorts being slipped down your legs. Little kisses began at your ankles slowly trailing up your legs. The higher they got the sloppier they became. "You're not even trying to win the game." Billy shook his head expecting more from you. "What.. are the rules?" You moaned out Stu now marking up your chest. With a laugh Billy said, "You know I hadn't even thought about that." God he was a prick and you were a horrible person for thinking it made him hotter.

Stu lifted your top pulling it above your breasts. "You're so pretty..." He said without thought. Somehow that word meant more than all the other words in that moment. "You're not too bad yourself handsome." He looked at the floor with a big grin on his face. With a quick shake of his head he went back to work. Your tied up hands played with his hair as he swirled his tounge around your hot skin. Billy ran a finger up the middle of your panties, the unexpected feeling making your hips jolt. "Guess foreplay really does work." Your head tossed back with a suffocated moan as Stu tugged gently at your nipples. One being teased by his teeth just to be soothed by his tounge seconds later.

Billy squatted next to Stu just watching your face contort in pleasure. "If you weren't such a prude I could totally see you as one of those Victoria's Secret models." He spoke running his hand along your cheek. Billy grabbed the back of Stu's shirt peeling him off of you to your dissatisfaction. "Why don't you show her your hidden talent hmm?" The sinister smile on Stu face made your stomach twist and pussy throb. Billy stayed next to you watching as Stu pulled off your panties. "Toss em'." Billy spoke catching the underwear after his friend pitched them. He waved the damp fabric above you. "How important are these to you?" Stu began kissing and biting your thighs not leaving much room for you to talk. "You can have them!" You blurted as your hands tugged at Stu's hair. "That's sweet of you. I was going to take them anyways but thanks for the permission."

Stu ran his long tongue up your folds making the world stop for a second. His hands pulled your thighs further apart giving him more room to work. "His tongue is by far one of my favorite things about him." Billy's finger traced your throat slowly making his way to your breasts. He pinched your nipple between his fingers making your back arch up off the ground. "Fuck!" You cried and Billy smiled. Your grip on Stu's hair became almost painful but he couldn't care less.

Your thighs wrapped around his face as you crossed your ankles on his back. "Don't kill him, I need him for this next part." Billy laughed. His thumb pulled at your lip debating on where all this should go. "Stu! Babe, please! Don't stop. Seriously don't fucking move just keep doing that." Your fear of that building pleasure disappearing was recognized by everyone in the room. "Stu stop." Billy commanded and you gave him a crazed look. "Please don't I'm begging you." Stu's eyes looked up between the both of you not sure who to obey. "Baby I mean it. Stop." The pressure was gone and so was any sort of happiness. "I'm going to kill you." You spat at the men.

"You're really scary." Billy scoffed waving at Stu to come over to him. Without any sort of warning to either you or Stu, Billy pressed his lips against the boy's. Billy's tongue swirled around tasting you secondhand. Your brain was fried. You were not longer mad but you were sure to explode. A knock came at the front door scaring the shit out of you and Stu. "Oh for fuck's sake." Billy groaned pushing his friend back.

"Y/n?" At that voice Billy's face grew pale. "Stu help her with her clothes now." You wanted to cry. "Why the fuck are they here?" Stu whispered everyone panicking at the same time. "Please open up!" Sydney called out as Tatum continued banging on the door. Once you had your clothes on the two boys ran towards the stairs. "Shit my hands you idiots!" You whisper yelled making Billy run to you quickly untying the knots. "You've got lipstick all over you." Billy said smiling at the markings. "God damnit!" You ran upstairs grabbing a makeup wipe off your desk. You frantically rubbed your neck running back downstairs. "Here." Billy said snatching the wipe from you. He wiped the color from your face making sure to get most of it off your chest. "Better?" You asked. "It's gone." With a smack on your ass, Billy ran up to your room following Stu. You reeked of sex and you looked like it too.

"Coming!" You yelled running around trying to find something to spray the air with. Air freshener filled the room and thankfully covered you. Quickly you fixed your hair and opened the door. "Yeah?" Tatum pushed past you walking into the living room where a horrible display of debauchery had just occurred. "Okay." You said as Sydney followed her friend. "The killer called me last night." Sydney said on the brink of tears. "He's a fucking psychopath. He told her he'd kill her like he killed her mother." Tatum said, quickly apologizing to Sydney for the graphic rehash.

Billy and Stu stood there completely taken aback. "I thought you said you had to plan around this!" Stu snapped. "We did- we do! Why would you call Syd last night? Are you that fucking dumb?" Billy poked Stu understandably pissed about being blindsided by his best friend. "I went to sleep last night unlike you. Don't blame this shit on me because it backfired." They argued back and forth while you talked to the girls downstairs. "Okay so what do we do?" You asked hoping for a good answer. "You could stay at my place till this bastard's caught. My mom doesn't want you staying here by yourself."

You sat your head in your hands ready to cry. You didn't know what to do or who to trust. "I couldn't intrude like that." You said as Sydney sat down next to you on the couch. More so you didn't know what to do with the two men stashed in your bedroom. "That's crazy. We'd rather have you intrude than be murdered." Sydney said resting her hand on your knee. Tatum just nodded. "We're not taking no for an answer." The blonde said.

"I'll meet you all over at your place. I've got some stuff to do before I go." You shouted down the stairs hearing the front door close behind them. "What's going on?" Billy played dumb. "There's a serial killer running around that's what. You two need to get home and stay safe." You grabbed a bag from your closet packing clothes. "Where are you going?" Stu asked a little sad at the outcome of today. "I'm going to Tatum's place for a bit." Billy and Stu just stood there watching you angrily pack away your things. This was their fault. You were scared because of them. It genuinely made them both feel like shit.

"There's a spare key under the rock in the flower pot outside. Get your car and make sure to lock the place up when you leave." You didn't mean to be short with them or make them think you were mad. You enjoyed your time with them but you realized after they ran off and hid that this wasn't real. You had romanticized another situation that would never in a million years be real.

Part 7

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(If your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hannibal Lecter X Reader: Us lonely few

Warnings: talk of loneliness, smut, kissing, rough sex, unprotected sex, penetration (p in v), drinking, no use of y/n

Word count: 2,5K

The sound of Ave Maria floats out of Hannibal's office. It makes you hesitate, your hand freezing in mid air. You weren’t supposed to be here at such a late hour but you’d lost track of time. You started working as Hannibal's secretary a month ago. He’d never found himself in need of a secretary but you'd managed to impress him. He enjoyed the way your eyes lit up as he spoke about the mysteries of the mind so he decided to keep you around.

It was nice to have someone nearby. It didn’t matter that you usually remained outside of his office as you worked, just the thought of not being alone seemed to ease Hannibal. He liked your company. You were younger than him but you shared his taste for the finer things in life. Conversation came easy when he was with you. It was almost as if you’d been made for each other.

You knock on the door waiting for a response. When one doesn't come you lean your ear against the wood trying to listen for Hannibal's footsteps. The only sound that fills your ears is music. It’s likely he can’t hear you because of the song. You can barely hear yourself as you call out for him.

“Dr Lecter, I'm coming in.”

As always his door is unlocked. You push it open with ease, momentarily balancing the books you were holding on your hips. You close the door behind you before moving to scan the room, trying to find Hannibal. He has his back turned to you but somehow he still manages to sense your presence. 

“I thought you’d gone home.”

You walk over to his desk placing the books you were holding on it before going towards him. 

“I lost track of time. Your books are very fascinating.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed them but I can't have you staying after hours.”

“You stay after hours.”

Hannibal looks up from his drawing to look at you. You meet his gaze, waiting to see how he’ll react to your comment. He stays serious for a second before smiling at you. 

“I suppose you're right.”

“I usually am.”

You grin at him before turning your attention back to his sketches. You lean over Hannibal's shoulder trying to get a better view. He watches you as you observe his work. He inhales deeply trying to commit your scent to memory. You're oblivious to his actions, far too focused on the drawing before you. It's a nude portrait of a woman. You can’t help but notice the way Hannibal has drawn her. There is a sensuality to the portrait but there is also a loneliness to the woman's expression.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Yes she is.”

“Why’s she sad?”

“What makes you think she’s sad?”

“The way you drew her.”

You point to the image carefully so that you won't smudge the pencil.

“She's looking behind herself as if she’s searching for something but the way her arms are wrapped around herself shows she didn’t find what she wanted.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well she’s holding herself isn't she? I mean, she didn’t find someone to hold her so she had to hold onto herself. She’s lonely.”

“ I guess I didn't think about it that way.”

“Art has a way of bringing our feelings to the surface. Even if we ourselves don’t know what we're feeling.”

“Are you insinuating that I'm lonely?”

“Aren’t you?”

Hannibal eyes bore into yours as he thinks. Maybe he was lonely. Maybe that is why, after all these years, he found himself with a secretary even though he didn't particularly need one. 

“It’s okay to feel lonely. It doesn't make you any less strong.”

“Do you feel lonely?”

“I’ve felt alone my whole life. So yeah you could say loneliness is something I'm familiar with.”

Hannibal placed his hand over yours causing you to look at his face. His eyes softened as he took in your features. You were a pretty thing. He’d been so impressed with your mind he often forgot you also had a beauty he hadn't had the pleasure of being graced with in a long time. 

“Do you enjoy filet mignon?”

You let out a laugh at his question, eyes furring in curiosity.

“I do. Why?”

“I’m inviting you to dinner.”

“At your house?”

“Yes.”

“As long as I'm not intruding.”

“Not at all. I enjoy your company.”

Hannibal's house was very him. There were artworks scattered around the rooms and knowledge seemed to seep out of the walls. You removed your shoes and placed them by the door. Hannibal looked at you questioningly. “I don’t want to get your floors dirty.”

“If you feel more comfortable that way, be my guest.”

“You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you. The kitchen is this way.”

You followed Hannibal, eyes moving over every inch of his home you could see. A small gasp left your lips as you walked into the kitchen. You always enjoyed the culinary arts but you’d never had the pleasure of owning a kitchen big enough to explore your talents properly. Hannibal watched you as you moved around the room, a small smile tugging at his lips at your unfiltered fascination.

“I take it you enjoy cooking.”

“I’ve always had a curiosity for it but I'm not very skilled. I won’t die of hunger but I've never made any adventurous recipes. Just the basics you know?”

“Would you like to sous chef?”

“I’d love to.”

“Wonderful. You can start chopping the onions.”

You moved over to him grabbing the knife he handed you before moving to get the onions and a cutting board. Hannibal unbuttoned his shirt sleeve and pushed it up his arms allowing you to see his muscles. Your gaze lingered for a moment before focusing on your task once more. Hannibal moved around the kitchen with ease as he searched for the ingredients he needed. It was almost like a dance. You couldn’t help but watch him as he moved. He seemed so peaceful like this his mind completely focused on the meal he was preparing.

Your eyes started to sting as you continued to chop the onions. You sniffed quietly which caused Hannibal to look up at you. He watched as a single tear fell from your eyes before falling onto the counter. He moved over to you on instinct. You felt a hand on your cheek, turning to face Hannibal at his touch. His thumb moved over your skin, collecting your tears. It was an innocent caress but you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. He pulled his hand away from you, moving his thumb to his lips. He licked at his thumb, removing your tears from his skin. Your heartbeat fastened at the action. 

“Let’s switch tasks dear. Can’t have you crying in my kitchen. You can cut the meat.”

He paused for a moment glancing at the piece of raw meat on the counter before looking back at you.

“Unless it’s too much for you.”

“I’m not afraid of getting my hands a little bloody Hannibal. I’ll be fine.”

He knew you didn’t mean anything but it but his mind couldn’t help but wonder what you were capable of. You seemed like the type of person who knew how to hold their own. Still he wondered how far you’d be willing to go.

Hannibal took over chopping onions as you worked on the main piece of the meal. One he’d finished he moved over to watch you. Your hands moved over the pieces of meat with an unusual softness. Despite that you seemed to be having a hard time figuring out how big the pieces should be. Hannibal sensed your struggle. He moved behind you, his chest brushing against your back as he reached to place his hand over yours. You twisted your head to the side to look at him.

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“Not at all dear. But you can cut the medallions a bit larger. Here let me help.”

You relaxed your arm so that Hannibal could maneuver your body in the way he wished. 

“There. That thickness is better.”

You turned to face him once more expecting him to be looking at the meat. Instead you found him staring at you. Your eyes dropped to his lips momentarily. You were so close to him that you could smell his aftershave. A breathy sigh left your mouth the air fanning over his lips. You wanted him to kiss you. His mouth opened but instead of kissing you he spoke.

“Could you set the table for us?”

“Oh. Yeah sure.”

“The silver ware is in the third drawer on the left.”

With that Hannibal unlatched himself from you allowing you to move over to where you needed. You walked over to the dining room. Your hands trembled as you placed the silver ware down. Hannibal's voice rang out from the kitchen.

“You can take a seat. It will be ready soon.” 

“Okay.”

A couple moments later Hannibal walked in with a platter in his hand and a bottle of wine in the other. 

“Do you drink?”

“Occasionally. But I'm not picky.”

“This wine was aged in a maple barrel. It has a sweet taste to it which will go perfectly with the meat.”

“Everything looks delicious.”

“I agree.”

You couldn’t help but notice Hannibal wasn’t looking at the food as he spoke, he was looking at you.

You ate until you couldn’t anymore. Hannibal filled up your cup as soon as you downed the last sip. After you finished dinner the two of you made your way to his living room. You were a little tipsy due to the wine causing you to become unfiltered. You padded against Hannibal's floor, moving to music that only you could hear. He enjoyed watching you like this. You were usually so formal around him it was nice to see you in a more relaxed manner. Hannibal observed you stumble over to his piano, hands toying with the keys before glancing in his direction. 

“Do you play?”

“I do.”

“Will you play for me?”

Hannibal could never deny an audience. He pushed off the wall he’d been leaning on, making his way over to where you stood. He sat down on the bench as you moved to rest your chin on the palm of your hand. Hannibal flexed his fingers, straightening his posture a bit before he began to play. The second his fingers began moving over the keys you became mesmerized. You walked over to the other side of the bench taking a seat beside him. You observed his fingers glide from one key to the other. He made it seem so easy. You closed your eyes, focusing on the sounds. As the song came to an end you slowly opened your eyes, a smile plastered against your face. You looked over at Hannibal only to find him already watching you. 

“That was beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you.”

Your eyes softened at Hannibal's words. Your hand moved to cup his cheek. Slowly, you inched your face closer to his until your lips were inches apart. You placed a gentle kiss to his mouth waiting to see how he’d react. When he didn't pull away you kissed him again with a little more strength this time. Hannibal opened his mouth to you. Your tongues moved together as you deepened the kiss. Hannibal's hand wrapped around your hips lifting you up with ease. He placed you on his lap. Your back dug into the keys of the piano as you continued to make out. Hannibal's hands dug into the flesh of your ass causing you to whine. You bit his lip, tugging at it with your teeth as you broke the kiss. Your hands moved over Hannibal's shirt, fingers working on unbuttoning it. He could sense the desperation in your actions. He moved his hand over to your chest tugging at the buttons of your dress shirt. The buttons seemed to be toying with him. He lost his patience. Before you knew it Hannibal had ripped your shirt open. You gasped as he leaned down to kiss the valley of your breasts. 

“Hannibal…”

“What is it?”

“Take me to your bed.”

The soft sheets of Hannibal's bed rubbed against your face as your body moved with his thrusts. Your fingers dug into his pillow as you screamed out his name. There was no mercy in his movements. He was fucking you so hard you were sure you wouldn’t bae able to walk tomorrow. You thought he’d stop after the first round but you’d been wrong. Once you’d gotten tired of riding him he’d flipped you around shoving your face down onto the bed before lifting your ass and continuing to pistol into your.

The bed creaked as he moved, muffling the sounds of your moans. His hands moved against your ass, fingers leaving crescent moon shapes on your skin as he continued to manhandle you. You were squeezing him so much that he was having a hard time moving in and out of you. He reached his hand to your waist lifting you off the bed. Your bare back pressed against his chest. Hannibal licked at your earlobe before biting into it. You let out a yelp causing him to shush you.

“You’re gonna cum for me again.”

“Hannibal i can’t-”

“Yes you can. I know you can.”

He placed kisses against your shoulder blade as one of his hands found their way to your pussy. His thumb found your clit. He grunted as he circled the small bundle of nerves. You panted against him, hands grabbing at his hair to anchor yourself. Your jaw fell slack as your orgasm washed over you. Hannibal stopped supporting your body causing you to fall forward into the bed. His grunts became more constant as he continued to fuck into you. It took a couple thrusts but soon enough he was spilling his seed into you. You heard his groan as he pulled out. You remain unmoving, still trying to recover from your orgasm. Hannibal returned to bed, laying down beside you. He tugged you closer to him. You laid your head on his chest, fingers moving to play with the hairs on his chest. He listened to you breath, his hand moving to caress your hair as he did. 

“You were right.”

“Usually am. But what was I right about exactly?”

“She was lonely.”

You let out an understanding hum, comprehending what he was confessing to you.

“Is she still lonely?”

“No. Not anymore. She found someone to keep her company.”

“I’m glad. I’m sure they were just as lonely as she was.”

“It's a good thing they found each other then.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

The two of you had been crafted by different artists but in your own way you’d been made for each other. If you hadn't been sure of that before you were certain of it now.

[gaybatmanenthusiast]

MASKED INTIMACY (oneshot)

(HANNIBAL LECTOR X M! READER)

⋆★ word count : 808

⋆★ warnings : n/a

⋆★ summary : you’re snooping in Hannibal’s office to find clues about an ongoing investigation, but Hannibal catches you in the act. Instead of reporting you, Hannibal offers to let you go—if you agrees to dinner.

⋆★ extra : wrote this with a friend in mind

The leather-bound books lining Hannibal Lecter’s office seemed to watch M/N as he slipped into the dim, quiet space. Everything was arranged so neatly, so meticulously, it was almost unsettling. The faint scent of leather and something metallic filled the air, making him feel as if he were intruding into a lion’s den rather than an office. But he knew he had to be careful. He’d come this far, and any noise, any slip-up, would make it clear he was here uninvited.

He swallowed, glancing around for any indication of where Hannibal might keep case files. The idea was almost laughable—Lecter was far too clever to leave anything incriminating out in the open. Yet, he couldn’t shake the sense that something vital lay hidden here. Maybe some note, some slip of paper that would connect Lecter to the trail of unsolved crimes currently haunting his nights. As he reached out to the top drawer of the desk, his fingers grazed the cold metal handle, and he hesitated. What if he found more than he bargained for?

As he carefully opened it, a wave of adrenaline hit him. There were documents, letters—none of which looked like they belonged to any ordinary psychiatrist. He sifted through, his heart hammering, every sound amplified. Pages rustling. The quiet creak of the drawer. His own breathing, a little too quick, as he scanned for anything that might crack the case wide open.

Calm down, he thought, his hands slightly trembling. But even in his resolve, the room itself seemed to seep into his skin, amplifying a strange sense of dread. If Hannibal knew he was here… The idea was almost laughable; how could he possibly explain it away?

Footsteps.

The sound was soft at first, blending almost seamlessly into the background of the building. He dismissed it at first, chalking it up to paranoia. But then, unmistakably, they grew louder. His mind spun, but there was no escape now, no time to hide. The door swung open, and there he was.

Dr Hannibal Lecter stood framed by the low light of the hallway, eyes fixed on M/N with a predatory calm that sent chills down his spine. He didn’t look surprised—more curious, if anything.

“Can I help you with something?” Hannibal’s voice was smooth, disarming, but it carried a note of something darker. He stood there, watching M/N as if savouring every second, letting him feel the weight of his intrusion.

Caught off guard, M/N stumbled over his words. “I… I was… looking for something,” he mumbled, realising immediately how weak his excuse sounded.

Hannibal’s eyes gleamed, a flicker of amusement barely concealed beneath his polite facade. “I can see that,” he replied, stepping further into the room. There was a glint of something sinister in his eyes, like he was already planning his next move. “You must know that breaking into someone’s office, especially someone in my line of work, is a rather risky endeavour.”

M/N’s heart raced, but he forced himself to stand his ground. “I had to see if there was something you weren’t telling us,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t betray the fear bubbling up inside.

Lecter’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Is that so?” His gaze travelled slowly over him, calculating, as if measuring his resolve. “I should call the authorities, of course… or I could simply let this slide.”

M/N froze, the words catching him off guard. “Why would you do that?”

“Let’s say I admire your initiative,” Hannibal said, his voice almost a purr. He stepped closer, close enough that M/N could feel the quiet power radiating from him. “But perhaps you could indulge me in a… different arrangement.”

“What do you mean?” M/N managed to ask, heart hammering as Hannibal moved closer still, his gaze never faltering.

“A dinner invitation,” Hannibal said smoothly. “Tomorrow night, at my home.” He tilted his head, the faintest smile curling his lips. “In exchange, I’ll pretend I never saw you here tonight. Sound fair?”

There was a pause, as M/N struggled to form words, knowing full well the reputation Hannibal Lecter had, the stories whispered between investigators. Yet, there was something about his offer, about the air of danger and control that made it hard to refuse.

Finally, M/N nodded, his throat dry. “All right… dinner it is.”

Hannibal’s smile widened ever so slightly. “Good. Then I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow.” With a final, assessing look, he stepped aside, granting M/N his escape.

As he left, he could feel Hannibal’s gaze lingering on him, a silent reminder of the dark promise now hanging between them. And as he walked out into the night, he couldn’t shake the feeling that, with every step closer to Hannibal, he was walking deeper into a game far more dangerous than he’d ever imagined.