#Hannibal x m!reader

[voxmortuus]

Yooo! Lol I’m here to make a small request maybe just to see how you think Hannibal would handle a situation lol like literally just a Drabble would be fine 🫶🏼

Alright, what would he say if his S/O (male pref) asked him “Would you still love me if I was a worm?” Bonus points if his S/O asks stupid questions like this all the time so he’s used to it, LMAO poor Hannibal

►PAIRING: Hannibal X Male!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Hannibal ►WORDS: 1.6k ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: See Above. ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: No warnings | I may be missing some, but you get a general idea, so please proceed with caution if there is anything in there that is overly triggering please let me know politely and I will make sure it is added to the list. ►NOTE: Hannibal and Hannibal Character requests are closed. All other requests are open. Sorry if this isn't what you expected, or had envisioned yourself, I apologize. But I hope you enjoyed my vision. ►DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa

"No. I gotta know! If I was a worm, would you still love me?" you ask.

Shaking his head with a chuckle he thinks a moment. "But what if I was a bird, I'd eat the worm."

"That's not the question nor a valid answer."

"Oh but it is, what if I was the bird that ate the worm."

"You're no fun." you pout a moment.

He chuckles and he watches you a moment. Putting some thought into it he tilts his head. "Well I'd make sure you'd have a nice little compost pile... only the best foods."

"That's better. So, how do you think you'd handle me if I was a puddle of putty?" you ask.

He tilts his head and shakes it again with a slight chuckle. "Where are these questions coming from?" he asked you.

With a rather proud smile. "They came from my brain place. Now. Back to the putty question."

[enterrandomname]

The Cannibal and The Man

Hannibal x Male Reader

WARNING: Cannibalism, Stockholm Syndrome, Toxic

Word Count: 496 words

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

——————✧◦♚◦✧——————⋆

Gasping for air, you sat up on the bed, sweat running down your forehead. You closed your eyes and rubbed your forehead with your hand. Tired. Very tired. You had a nightmare—a terrible nightmare. You uncovered your face and turned your head to look at the man lying next to you. Husband. No. Lover? You two were not married yet; you had only met him by mistake.

Unfortunately, you knew about his little, dark secret. You were unable to speak about it during dinner or when the two of you were alone. You had never liked dinner, but the food he made just looked delicious, and despite what the meat was, you never complained about it. You were sadly unable to complain, or your tongue would have been the next thing on the plate.

You did not like the control your lover had over you. You wanted to be free like a bird, not trapped in a cage. Whenever a visitor would come over, you were always reminded to be on your best behavior. Once in a while, you wanted to talk to your family or at least give your mother or father a call to say that you were having the best time of your life.

Unfortunately, every single member of your family was dead. Their limbs were chopped into pieces and served to you without knowing who you were eating this time. You were told that they died due to a car crash. But you knew that was a lie; your parents never left the house that often. If they did, it was only for groceries or clothing.

You held your breath once you heard your lover groan.

"You're up early," he said, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you to his chest. "Stay." Hannibal placed a kiss on your head before closing his eyes. You sighed and made yourself comfortable. Hannibal's body is warm, you thought. You couldn't help but feel safe being held by the person who cares for you.

You silently cursed at yourself. You should not think of Hannibal as your protector. For god's sake, he killed your parents and served them as dinner! This cannot be happening, you thought. You cannot see yourself marrying a cannibal.

Escape. Escape. Escape. You need to escape. How could you even escape from a cannibal? For God's sake, you don’t want to be next on the plate. You cannot allow Hannibal to think he has won. Maybe this is all a dream? Maybe you’re in the safety of your own bed. No, that cannot be true. You cannot have a nightmare in a nightmare.

Your name is (Y/N), and you are in your 30’s. You are currently sleeping in the same bed with a cannibal, and your family is dead. You are forced to eat human meat. You haven't been receiving enough sleep for, god, knows how long.

Sighing once again, closing your eyes, and allowing sleep to take over your body

[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.

[s-i-ll-y-w-i-ll-y]

I don’t understand

Professor!Will x Student!Reader

Summary: You stay behind after class to ask your teacher a question and received an answer that you could never have expected.

Tw! OOC Will Graham, low-key dumb reader but we persevere, morally wrong relationship (teacher/student), unprotected sex, car sex, classroom makeout

~~~~~~

The chattering of Professor Graham’s students faded into the distance as he began to wrap up his lesson. He slowly began to pack his bag, oblivious to you lurking on the other side of his desk. Your shadow cast across his desk as you stepped forward, the sound of you clearing your throat in the quiet classroom caused him to jump slightly.

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to ask-”

A sharp chuckle slipped from his lips as he looked over to you. “Don’t you think it’s a bit..pointless to be asking questions.?” His palm planted on his desk as he leaned across, his eyes gleaming with emotion as he locked gaze with you.

Confusion.

That was the first thing you felt.

Then a small twinge of disappointment followed after, embedding itself in the deepest corners of your mind. After the long pause; after the empty silence entered the room; after the tension, you found yourself letting a small chuckle slip from your lips.

“I’m sorry,” You began, eyeing him from your position, the glare off the screen above you caressing your vision causing you to squint. “What do you mean pointless?”

The spacious room let every sound echo; the whirring sound of the projector, the chattering that echoed from the hallway, the footsteps of your professor as he walked closer-

..what?

Your professor stalked closer until a foot away from you, his eyes boring into you as he loomed down at you. His dexterous fingers winding around his glasses, folding them, then tucking them into his front pocket.

“What I mean is that you don’t pay any attention to my lectures or turn in any of the work I give out- important work, mind you. So..I say: why bother?” A trickle of snide and resentment pooled from his lips, forcing itself into your mind. “If you want to put more effort in then good, I’ll answer your questions. If not then drop out, someone else can get your spot. It doesn’t matter to me, just another face in my classroom.”

With your jaw slack you couldn’t utter a word. Shell-shock is the best term for what you were experiencing. Silence felt as if it would split you in two, nerves building within you.

His classroom felt as if it was caging you in, tension weighing heavy on your shoulders as he continued to stand a foot apart from you, his cologne seeping into your skin, drawing you closer.

Your eyes cast down, avoiding his strong gaze as you mustered up enough courage before you wept. “Sir,” you squeaked, “I don’t want to leave this course; I do pay attention, I hand things in, I don’t understand why you think I’m not doing good.” Tears brimmed in your eyes at this point, the courage had subsided and your fear got the better of you.

If he wanted you gone then you should go, no point of taking up a space someone actually smart could use better-

The warmth of his skin rubbed off into yours as his fingers hooked under your chin, tilting it up. With eyes glistening in the fading light of the projector, you could see his brow furrow. “I was not telling you off nor kicking you out, if that’s what you believe. You don’t put effort into your work and it shows; a low mark on a test or assignment can add up and show your enthusiasm for this course.” Warmth spread over your cheeks as his thumb wiped away a stray tear, a simple yet affectionate gesture which caused a sudden flush of warmth to spread to a more intimate place.

“I do care about this course, sir. Believe me, I do.” Your hand cupped his, a slither of a smile snaked its way onto your lips as he continued to stroke your cheekbone, despite the lack of tears. “I just…I don’t understand a lot.”

A tsk sounded throughout the room as he pulled away from you ever so slowly. “Why not come to me sooner?”

“I’m embarrassed to admit that I was nervous.”

“Why?”

Why.

That question hung in the air.

The answer to that question filled you with more dread than you could have ever imagined.

The answer to that question could bring the best outcome or the worst.

The lie would be that you just..couldn’t focus. Whether it was someone nearby clicking a pen or the ventilation being too loud, something was distracting you and you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

The truthful answer was that you couldn’t help but admire the way your professor looked in his outfits, the plaid shirts and trousers that hugged ever curve he had gave you something to think about late at night- something to fantasise about. That you couldn’t help but imagine how his hands would feel scratching against your scalp and pulling you in closer as he kissed your lips until they bled. That you couldn’t help but be jealous of just the thought of another girl in his class staying behind for ‘extra credit’.

So when the words came out your mouth, that you were infatuated with your teacher who was decades older than you, you were more than a little surprised when he practically pounced on you.

His lips melted against yours as he guided you onto his desk, sliding between your legs easily. Your legs wove around his waist as his hands wove into your hair just as you had dreamt.

~~~~~

Street lamps illuminated the FBI Headquarters Car Park, very few people left in the building. The night was calm, aside from the mild winds that threatened to create a small tornado with litter that had been cast to the side by those too lazy to pick it up. The gentle sway of the trees, which hid the glowing moon, caused a shifting shadow to appear over the car park. Creaking followed those pleasant pushes from the wind, and covered up the creaking that emanated from a small black car in the far side of the car park. The sway of the car and the creaks that came from them hid the array of whines, moans and groans that came from within.

A dull ache had formed in your wrists as they laid pinned against the rich leather of the car seat, your professor’s large hands sprawled out and covered yours. With legs warped around his mid-section, your back arched as thrusted deeper than you had ever dreamt of. The mewls of his name fell from your lips as he struck a nerve within you, spurring on something which had stirred and grown hours before.

His hips met yours with feverous need, a craving to feel you wear him out. The way you felt around him, the way you and enveloped his length and adjusted so well made him believe you were perfect for him. That you were perfect.

His lips crashed back to yours, sloppy and rough. Your tongue peaked out and was met with dominance from his until he pulled away, a string of your conjoined efforts connecting you.

Your eyes met, his hooded brown eyes gleaming with wanton desire for you pushed you over the edge. A wave of relief washed over you as you watched his face contort with pleasure, the awareness from you made it all more satisfying.

Your professor forced himself out of you and began to fist his cock, aiming it for your stomach. Your head rolled back as you recovered from your orgasm, watching the cloud dance in the sky, chasing the stars that seemed out of reach.

The sharp moan of your name caught your attention and you casted a glance over to your professor. Ropes of his release coated the soft skin of your stomach, painting it in a wash of white.

“Are you going to try harder in class?” A sly grin present on his face as he tucked himself back into his trousers once more.

“Maybe.”

~~~~~~~~

AN! Literally just smut…low-key ovulating, it’s fine.

Tuesday the 11th of February 2025, 9:11 PM.

[marksbear]

MULTI FANDOM MALE READER SCENARIOS 

It’s been a while since I done one of these, but I think it’ll be good for me to practice more at writing different characters and such so enjoy!

The fact is I had more tags to share 😭

-Miguel O’Hara biting your neck harshly to get your attention when he feeling jealous. Or marking you as his.

-Izzy Hands always lightly taking your hand and helping you either up the steps or down the steps. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it most time. Everyone in the ship always notices it but doesn’t say anything.

^^Ofmd

-Bob taking off his glasses and putting them on you then starts to compliment you how good and cute you look.

^^Top gun!

-Matt Murdock tracing your face in morning when he thinks your still sleep. He also traces your face anytime your two are arguing because he wants to see your emotions.

^^Marvel

-You and The Corinthian driving around during late nights with his hand on your thigh as he drives you around.

^^DC

-Tony stark buying you whatever you want or even dream of. It can be jewelry all the way to new houses and cars.

^^Marvel

-Bruce Wayne and you being a power couple throughout Gotham. Lots of magazines and headline about you two.

^^DC

-Teaching Adam Warlock about feelings about like having a crush or being in love.

^^Marvel

-You and Doom head being an unstoppable duo anytime you two are paired up in a game.

^^Rob Zombie movie 31

-You and Richard Madden making fun of each other accents in interviews for the newest movie you two are in.

^^Actor

-You and Hobie Brown making out in a middle of Miguel’s rant.

^^Marvel

-Homelander wrapping his arms around you as you two makeout and he slowly rises from the ground bringing you in the air with him.

^^The Boys

-You we’re very close with Love to the point all lot of people thought you two were dating. Joe was furious so he started to stalk you planing to murder, but all that stalking for weeks slowly became to months and he slowly started to catch feelings.

^^YOU

-Benedict Bridgeton being so in love with you, but he so scared that his family would disown him as well as everyone around town.

^^Bridgeton

-You and Benedict sneaking off during ball’s and random events to be with each other alone.

^^Bridgeton

-Imagine sitting down in the bleachers waiting for Mark to be done with his track meet.

^^Author/ Me

-Playing with Dutch Van der linde hair during a camp meeting and he tries to stay focus but he can’t.

^^RD2

-You and Larry smoking as you two listen to Sal play the guitar.

^^Sally Face

-Ted feeling ashamed after he realized that he caugt feelings for you even though your a player.

^^Ted Lasso

-When Dean first met you y’all both were very young. You were reckless and carefree while Dean was taking care of Sam and brought him along while you two hanged out. And he caught feelings, but he was confused about why he had feelings for a man so he kept it to himself.

^^SPN

-Helping Mark walk without his leg brace or crutches.

^^Author/Me

-Stu Marcher giving you neck kisses in the middle of class. And most of the time teachers sees him and gives you both detention.

^^Slashers

-Hannibal Lecter leaving bite marks all over your neck and shoulders.

^^Slashers

-Roy Kent being soft spoken and quiet anytime he’s with you.

^^Ted Lasso

-Larry Trainor slowly warmed up to you being his boyfriend so he lets you touch his skin underneath the bandages.

^^DC

-Anytime before a fight Arthur asks you to hold his hands. He says it’s for a good luck, but he’s just really stressed and tense.

^^Peaky blinders

-Steven Grant still being so shy and quiet with you even though you two has been dating for years.

^^Marvel

-Bringing Namor gifts like flowers, jewelry and even little things like a picture of yourself or a padlock necklace. He cherishes all of them and keeps them safe.

^^Marvel

-Meeting Namor on the beach at night almost every night.

^^Marvel

-Bobby and Athena inviting you into their relationship. They both didn’t cheat on each other to find about their feelings for you they just kinda knew one day and talked it out and for a while and a lot of thought they asked would you be willing to date them.

^^9-1-1

-Being a rich man while Steven is your trophy husband.

^^Marvel

-Dying your hair with mark.

^^Author/Me

-Watching Mark stay up all night writing just for him to randomly stop to watch a movie.

^^Author/Me

-Lee and Maren catching you eating a person right in the middle of a dark and empty road.

^^Bones and All

-Being a different love interest for Elio and being heartbroken once he chose Oliver over you.

^^Call me by your name

-Imagine rejecting Derek Shepheard after finding out he has a wife.

^^Greys anatomy 

-Rue hugging and crying on you tight after she relapsed.And you being her favorite person ever since what happened with Jules and Elliot.

^^Euphoria

-Being a father figure to Rue.

^^Euphoria

-Imagine being Maddy Perez brother and finding out Nate pulled a gun on her so you pulled up to his house barged in and looked for him and beat the shit out of him.

^^Euphoria

-Billy Hargrove acting like he hates the nickname “Curls.” Or “Curly.” But when you say it he loves it.

^^Stranger things

THE END

[aliorsboxostuff]

MALE!READER WRITING REQUESTS OPEN!

Come check out my works bellow!

I've seen how devastatingly little male!reader fics are in my big fandoms, and as a gay man i feel like i should provide us with said fics! Which is why I'm opening my ask box for any and all male!readers and gn!readers requests! (Including anon requests!)

RULES:

I WON'T ACCEPT FEMALE!READER FICS REQUESTS. I’m a trans-masc genderfluid, so male!Readers or gn!Readers are the ones that I usually write and am comfortable with. It’s hard looking for male!reader fics, especially in female-dominated fandoms, that's why I'm opening requests for any and all sad and touch-starved dudes out there! If these don't fit your preferences then you are free to leave, and if you're a female user/reader entering my blog, I hope you remain respectful about the fics I write or get requests for, thank you.

NOTE: I NEVER USE ANY FORM OF Y/N IN MY FICS. Please be aware that i write based on my current fixations. Fixations may vary in how much i want to write them so i’ll be ranking from the MOST interested to the LEAST interested but will write. Please be patient in waiting for your fics as i, sadly, have IRL work to worry about too! 

What i will write:

male!reader

gender-neutral reader

Ftm! Reader

Smut 

Platonic or Romantic relationships

Kid!reader (ONLY platonic-parental relationships)

angst

fluff

comfort

headcanons

nsfw alphabets

drabbles

Series

Age gap (CHARACTERS MUST BE OVER THE AGE OF 19)

What I Won't write:

female!reader

underage characters (anyone under 17)

necrophilia

real people

pedophilia

Omorashi

age play

rape/non-con

incest

offensive/harmful things

THE CHARACTER LIST!

Current immediate fixation:

HOUSE MD (Up to s2)

Gregory House 

James Wilson

Robert Chase

Lisa Cuddy

PEDRO PASCAL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE

Ezra (prospect)

Joel Miller

Javi Gutierrez

Javier Peña

Frankie Morales

Whiskey (Kingsman)

MORTAL KOMBAT 1

Johnny Cage

Kenshi Takahashi

Tomas Vrbada

Syzoth

HONKAI STAR RAIL

Boothill

Welt

Sampo

Gallagher

Dr. Ratio

JUJUTSU KAISEN

Satoru Gojo

Nanami Kento

Higuruma Hiromi

Ryoumen Sukuna

Yuuji Itadori (Fluff)

Toge Inumaki (Fluff)

Less interested (but will write) Fixations:

TOP GUN 86’ & TOP GUN: MAVERICK

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

COD MODERN WARFARE II

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

John 'Soap' Mactavish

König

DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN

Connor (RK800)

Nines (RK900)

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Chris Knight (Real Genius)

Hannibal (NBC)

The Corinthian (Netflix Sandman)

Leon S. Kennedy (RE4 Remake)

Luis Serra (RE4 Remake)

Understand that these are all works of fiction; I am perfectly fine with writing for topics including mafias, mobs, murder, organized crime, war, mental illness, abuse, etc.; but please do not romanticize them in any way. Reading it is fine; please don't romanticize them in your head.

If any of this provided information may seem confusing or have any questions, feel free to drop a DM and I will explain further! I will try to post fic requests as regularly and as fast as I can!

For refrence, these are fics i've written and uploaded to my AO3!

Steven Grant/Male Reader fluff

XMEN Family Pride Fic

Steven Grant/Male Reader Smut #1

Steven Grant/Male Reader Smut #2

Deadpool/Male Reader Fluff Confession

Deadpool/Ftm Reader Smut

Robert 'Bob' Floyd/Male Reader Fluff

Robert 'Bob' Floyd/Male Reader sunshine x grumpy

Tangerine/Male Reader Fluff/Angst Mature

Tangerine/Male Reader Mature

Tangerine/Male Reader (Escort Fic) Mature

Tangerine/NB Reader Teen&Up

Tangerine/Gender-Fluid Reader (Coming out fic)

Francisco "Catfish" Morales/Husband Reader

Joel Miller/Ftm Reader & Ellie Fluff

Joel Miller & Kid Reader

Joel Miller/Ftm Reader & Tess Fluff a bit Angst

Miguel O'hara/Male Reader Fluff

Miguel O'hara/Male Reader Spicy Fluff

Miguel O'hara/Male&GN Reader Spicy Fluff

Miguel O'hara/Male&GN Reader Fluff slight Angst

Din Djarin/Boyfriend Reader Smut

And the Short Fics/Drabbles on Tumblr!

Pulse (Tangerine/M!reader)

Deep Dive (Namor/M!reader)

Hold Tight (Tangerine/gn Reader)

Ner Mesh'la (Din Djarin/Male Reader)

Trinkets (Kurt Wagner/Gender-fluid Reader)

"Anythin' you wanna be." (Hobie Brown & Ftm Reader)

Little Nap! (Meows Morales Drabble)

Anyone that starts an argument about me writing exclusively for men and gender neutrals alike will get a very passive-aggressive and sarcastic reply to your request. There is an abundance of female!readers fics and writers who provide them; I am just here for people that takes a whole day searching for good male!reader fics. IF you do start an unnecessary rant about my fics or my writing preferences at a given moment; I’ve been in fandom spaces for the last 7 years of my life and run on pure manic adrenaline, I will throw hands. 

Without further ado, REBLOG TO TELL ALL DUDES! I OPEN MY FLOOD GATES! WELCOME ALL MALE!READER REQUESTS!

[nineshusband]

BRO I SAW UR AARON HOTCH X MR AS WILL AND HANNIBAL AND I NEED IT NOW. I NEED IT.

DUDE I WISH I COULD WRITE SO BAD CAUSE AARHHSGAGG IT WOULD BE SO FHCKING GOOD I WOULD EAT THAT SHIT UPPPPPPPP

[stormyelliotwritez]

okie dokie so here's the fandom list and the characters i'll write for. i will update this at times so yeah, here we go.

supernatural (dean winchester, Castiel, balthazar, bobby)

911 and 911 lone star (tk strand, carlos reyes, evan buckley, eddie diaz, paul strickland, owen strand)

stranger things (eddie munson, steve harrington, robin buckley (platonic only), nancy wheeler, jonathan byers)

house md (gregory house, james wilson, lisa cuddy and i can write foreman, chase and cameron but i can't promise it will be good.)

doctor who (any new who doctors and companions and friends tho coz im writing male reader bill, jenny and vastra will be platonic only coz otherwise that just feels weird also probably platonic for yaz and 13. also any masters because i love them and am obsessed with them)

hannibal (just hannibal and will coz im only on like the first season so it'll be based on vibes mostly)

star wars (like anyone basically just not palpatine and the creepy bad guys like the blue one or moff gideon. i am obsessed with clones and bounty hunters so yeah!)

batfam and dc (anyone basically coz ive got a pretty good grasp of most of their characters. if anyone requests the joker, i will probs mean like lego batman or the animated tv shows joker so the one who isn't an ass and is a bit gay. if they're lesbians (even if its just that i hc them as lesbians), it will be platonic though.)

marvel (anyone like please just give me ideas of marvel stuff to write. i will need like a really good idea to be convinced to write for tony because he pisses me off sometimes. also team red and loki tv show are like my favs so i will write actual masterpieces for those)

criminal minds (the bau gang)

good omens (aziraphale and crowley also like any of the other characters besides metatron because i wanna murder him in his sleep (: so yep)

sherlock bbc (sherlock, john, jim)

star trek (the one with chris pine) (bones, kirk, spock, scotty)

the addams family (im talking like the live action movies and the animated because i watched one episode of wednesday and it sucked ngl so yeah. ill write for the whole family so yeppity yep)

gravity falls (anyone basically except for gideon and his dad)

hades the video game (anyone tho i don't think anyone would request this)

the x-files (mulder, scully, skinner, the lone gunmen)

spiderverse (hobie, miles, gwen, noir, pav, peter b parker, miles universe peter, miguel (only if you wanna get into a fight with him))

x-men universe (gambit, charles, erik, peter maximoff, hank, victor creed, scott)

deadpool and wolverine (well… deadpool and wolverine, ig. i think cable and colossus both count in this one so them. also platonic negasonic teenage warhead and yukio)

also i will write for miguel in a not fighting way if you really want him and poolverine together coz that ship infected my mind

i think thats it so yeah! :)

please send in requests!!!

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Take Care of Her for Me｡⋆.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader x Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish

Simon is a bad man. He’s rough and dark and his little bird is far too good for him, that’s why he gives Johnny her first

Warnings: virgin!reader, threesome, bit of soap x ghost, SMUT, size kink, voyeurism, grinding, literally ‘just the tip’, use of y/n, tiny bit of Simon being insecure, reader and Simon live together, drinking, some guilt, loss of virginity, birth control mention, m masturbation, unprotected sex, possibility for whole 141 fun WC: 5.2k

Minors DNI

A/N: I know it's my birthday but I hope you guys enjoy this gift for you!

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Oh.” The word escaped her swollen lips involuntarily and Simon bit back the urge to wince. Her eyes were as wide as dinner plates, her hands trembling as she sat back on her heels. “I didn’t…” She trailed off.

Simon cupped her full cheek, guiding her gaze back up to him. “I told you I wasn’t exactly small. We don’t have to, not if you aren’t ready.” She nodded absentmindedly then seemed to catch herself and shook her head.

“No, no I’m ready. It’s just- you’re so big, I don’t think you’ll fit.” Her head tilted cutely as she nuzzled into his naked palm, soaking up all the skin he let her feel. Her delicate hands moved away from the band of his black sweatpants and instead clung to his meaty thighs. His cock throbbed where it lay on his stomach, the tip already leaking just from his sweet little bird pulling him out.

Her thick body fit perfectly between his legs, her shoulders holding his knees apart as she knelt on the floor in front of their plush couch. Her sleep shirt had already been shed, leaving her in just a bra and panties that had Simon’s mind going fuzzy with arousal. “You’ve barely fit two fingers in me,” she muttered wistfully, her thick lashes fluttering, “this is.. a lot. But I wanna try, for you.”

Simon’s hold suddenly turned firm as an image of her sprawled out on their bed, whimpering and whining, tears rolling down her cheeks as he back arched desperately all while he forced himself into her tight cunt. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to keep a level head. “No birdie, not for me. This is all about you.” He released her cheek in favour of leaning forwards and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into his lap.

He shuddered as her soft backside rubbed against his cock so he quickly readjusted his hips to tug his sweats back on properly. She watched him with a pout which he kissed away. “Can we at least try tonight? You already ate me out before dinner and played with me during the movie. Maybe I can suck you off? I might be able to fit you in my mouth.”

“Are you tryin ta fucking kill me?” He groaned, his self-control beginning to wane. 

She snuggled into his chest, her nails gently trailed down his front as she shrugged. “Want to make you feel good too, even if you can’t quite fuck me yet.” Simon sighed.

He knew how eager she was for him, her fuck-me eyes were almost constant whenever he was home from deployment. If it were any other circumstance, he would bully his cock into her perfect cunt without another thought but his birdie was a virgin and he had made a promise to himself a long time ago that he would never cause her pain in any way. Simon was not a good man but for her, he wanted to be better.

“Alright, we can try something.” Her yelp made him smirk as he stood up abruptly, keeping her firmly in his arms. 

“Simon!” Her arms flew around his neck, bouncing with each step he took up the stairs. 

Her laughs quickly turned into moans as he dropped her on the king size bed, his weight keeping her whole body pinned to the duvet, his lips descending on her neck. “Fuck Si.” This time, it was her legs that parted, allowing his body to slip between them. She could feel the warmth of his cock even through their clothes, throbbing and hot with the promise of what the apex of her thighs contained. 

His hand wormed its way between their bodies, thick fingers thrummed against her mound. This was normal, expected, the roughness and desperation of his touch a welcome salve to her overheated skin. A brief distraction from just how fucking horny he made her. He plucked at the band of her panties as his lips collided with hers. Their teeth clacked together with the force of his kiss, the muscles along his spine rippling beneath her fingers like he were a wolf, ready to take down his prey.

The fist planted by her head curled into the pillow as she nipped at his bottom lip all while her hips rolled into his hand, begging him to keep going, to finally give in to what he had been dangling in front of her for months. “Please,” she whined, nails digging into his back, “please I need more.” 

Electricity shot through her as his hips jerked forwards, his hard cock bumping against her neglected clit. “Fuck.” He growled, pulling back just enough to shuck the rest of their clothes off before he was right back on top of her, now nothing between them.

His cock early nestled against her folds, sliding up and down with every small movement he made. “Just the tip birdie, ‘m gonna give you just the tip.” But his promise rang hollow, his voice already dropped low and coated with his darkest desires. 

One of her legs wrapped around his thigh as he slowly pulled back, positioning his uncut head at her entrance. “Just the tip.” He spoke almost to himself and gently pressed forwards.

Y/N threw her head back, her mouth dropping open. A breath escaped her and Simon groaned. She was far tighter than he could have ever imagined, even with his head barely halfway in. Her leg squeezed around him as her back lifted from the bed. All Simon wanted to do was to keep going, force himself into her like he craved but he grabbed onto the frayed edges of his mind with the last of his restraint.

Just as the tip finally, finally breached her warmth, she found her words. “Too much, too much.” Suddenly her nails in his back, her face pressing into the pillow, her tensed legs were not her mounting desire but all blaring sirens that sent a shot of panic down his spine. 

A single tear rolled down her cheek before he came back into himself with a jolt. “Fuck, fuck.” He grabbed her thigh with a deathly grip, keeping her still as he dragged his hips back and regretfully left the heaven he had almost found. Her body relaxed into the bed spread as soon as she was empty again, her hold on his back waning but her touch remained on his tattooed skin. 

“Stay there.” Her whine of protest made his stomach drop but Simon still stood from the bed and made a b-line to the bathroom. He kept his eyes down, avoiding his own reflection as best he could while wetting one of the washcloths from the shelf next to the sink. He already knew exactly what he would see if he looked up and right now, he could pretend that monstrous reflection wasn’t him because she needed Simon, not Ghost.

By the time he slipped back into the room, she was already beneath the covers, the bedside lamp had been turned on, warding off the encroaching darkness. Her smile was hazy and small but it was genuine and Simon breathed a sigh of relief. She lifted the blanket for him to slip in beside her, an invitation he didn’t think he could ever refuse.

The smell of sweat and laundry detergent and something that was uniquely her enveloped him as he curled his massive body around her soft one, cradling her to his chest all while he wiped away the soreness from her. Her head fell to the crook of his neck, brushing her nose against his pulse. 

The washcloth landed in the hamper with a dull plop, sparking a small giggle from the woman before it was muffled as Simon pulled them both down onto their backs.

“I’m sorry I scared you Si.” 

“Can never scare me love, yer just a little puppy.” She lavished him with a glare but still sagged down onto his chest, letting out a little sigh.

“‘M scary.” Simon just scoffed and kissed the top of her head as he clicked off the lamp.

“Very scary.”

——————

The pub was mostly empty by now, leaving only the five of them in a booth in the back and a couple stragglers by the bar.  Y/N was wedged between Simon and Gaz, drunkenly giggling at a story she’s heard ten times before though Simon figured she was laughing at Johnny rather than with him, his accent almost too thick to even understand at this point. Price had just sat back down, delivering the last round of drinks for the night onto the sticky table.

“And then the nun fell off the bike.” John finished the story for him with a roll of his eyes. “Are you ever going to come up with anything new?” 

“My stories are great! Birdie thinks so, she laughs at them every time!” Johnny’s arm swung across the table, almost knocking over Gaz’s pint. 

“Steady on Soap.” He warned, making Y/N giggle again, undermining the Scot’s point entirely.

Simon hooked a broad arm over her shoulder, tugging her closer to his as he glowered at the younger man. “You don’t get to call her Birdie. ’Specially not after you destroyed the front lawn trying to show off on MY motorbike.” But Johnny just scoffed and sipped at his beer, shooting a wink in the woman’s direction. 

“I think I did ya a favour, those peonies were atrocious. Weren’t they lassie?” She turned her face into Simon’s arm in some vain attempt to keep back the heat that rose to her cheeks at the sudden attention from Johnny. Her fingers curled into the lapels of his jacket in a much too similar manner to how she would cling to him when Simon decided to torture her with his lips and words. 

His right eye twitched imperceptibly. 

“‘Sides they came with the house didn’t they? Ya needed a remodel.” Price snorted into his whiskey but it was Y/N who spoke up.

“I liked those flowers, they were the most ugly shade of orange.” Johnny’s smirk turned into something softer, something sappy and wholly foreign on the young soldier. His blue eyes, though dark with his drunkenness, sparkled under the dim lighting of the bar. Simon knew that look because it was the same one he held everyday since she had stumbled into his life and his heart. But where he expected jealousy, rage, at his lieutenant for even daring to look at his birdie like that, all he felt was a bubbling warmth deep in his stomach.

Gaz slipped from the booth, muttering something under his breath about a smoke, Price following quickly behind him, shooting a look at Simon before they disappeared through the front door. Without missing a beat, Johnny slithered his way into the now vacant seat beside Y/N, propping himself up far closer than would be considered friendly.

“Then how ‘bout I come over and plant ya some new ones.” Simon was sitting so close to her, he could feel the way her plush thighs clenched together as her breath hitched. “How bout it hen?” He purred, the alcohol on his breath strong but it was nothing compared to the weight of his gaze as it slowly trailed down her form, then turned to Simon. 

“Think you’ve had enough MacTavish.” Simon growled, suddenly breaking Johnny from his trance. The man reared back like he had been burnt, ripping himself from the booth with a stumble. His eyes were wide with panic, his voice and hands shaky.

“Sorry hen, think L.T.’s right, I should probably get home. G’night.” He was out the door before either of them could think to protest, even living behind his beloved leather jacket on the seat. 

Simon tucked Y/N closer to his side, laying a kiss on her head. “I’ll call us a cab.”

By the time the taxi had dropped them home, Simon and Y/N had almost completely sobered up though they were each still buzzing from the night. He had been quiet the entire ride, his eyes pensive and thoughtful but as soon as the cab vanished down the dark driveway, something inside him snapped. A strong arm was wrapped firmly around her thick waist, keeping her upright as he kissed along her exposed neck, the black medical mask he had been wearing for the night hanging over just one of his ears. Her keys rattled against the lock, quickly getting lost to the feeling of his lips on that one particular spot that made her body go fuzzy. 

“Si, you’re making this really hard for me.” He grunted against her skin and pushed his hips into her soft ass.

“And you’re makin’ me hard, seems fair to me.” She finally got the key in the lock just as he grabbed at the front of her jeans, his thick fingers going for the button. The door slammed against the wall but neither of them cared about a potential hole in the drywall at that moment. 

Simon grabbed her by the back of the neck and kissed her with so much force that she had to hold onto his forearms to keep from tumbling over backwards. They stumbled blindly to the couch, their lips firmly locked together all while Simon lifted her into his lap. Her thighs bracketed him as she buried her fingers into his cropped blond hair. 

“What’s gotten into you?” She gasped, pulling back just enough to fill her lungs before diving back into his embrace.

His hips bucked up into her as a hiss of words forced themselves from him. “Had a thought at the bar.” 

“Hmm?” This time, it was her lips on his throat, distracting the normally stoic man. He gripped at her ass for some semblance of control which was quickly slipping away.

“Johnny should have your first time.” All of her movements ceased. “You like him.”

“Si-“ She tried to pull herself from his arms, her cheeks heating with her shame. She couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“No. You do, it’s ok. I like em too, you aren’t special.” He teased, running his thumb along the apple of her cheek. Her breath caught. “He likes you, more than a little bit.” She shook her head firmly but Simon knew that she was thinking about it.

“You’re my boyfriend, not Soap. I want you.” His lopsided smile almost distracted her enough to kiss him again.

“I’m not gentle, not in the way you need for your first time and we both know that I’m too much for you to take. So-“

“You want me to fuck your best friend.”She finished for him. There was a beat of silence and then she pulled herself from his lap. “I don’t know about this.”

Simon stayed seated where he was but sat up fully, watching her every step as she paced around their living room. “I’ll be there too, not letting that mutt be alone with you so he can try to steal you away.” 

“Yet you’ll let him sleep with me.” His smile grew. Y/N shut her eyes and took a deep breath before a smile of her own began to bloom. “Ok, but I want you to fuck me right after.”

“That, Birdie, I can do.” With one swift movement, he yanked her back down to his lap and kissed her before he could run off and get Johnny to come over right that second. 

——————

Simon had been out of the house all day and for that, Y/N was grateful. She knew he was going to talk to Johnny today and knowing her boyfriend, that meant that tonight, she would be popping her cherry. He left with a tender albeit lust-filled kiss when he got up in the morning and a whispered promise that she should ‘get some rest’.

So she’d taken the day for herself; a long, luxurious bath in their massive tub, complete with shaving practically every inch of her body, then a nice coffee and breakfast and by lunchtime, she was deep in a book of poetry Gaz had recommended. The text arrived right when she had gotten up to make herself a cup of tea.

We’ll be home by 7.

A shiver of fear and excitement rolled up her back. This was it, after a year of taking it slow, all the angst of being with a man who was considered to be dead to everyone save for only those closest to him, and the anxiety of a multitude of ‘firsts’, finally they could take the next step. Even if they needed a bit of help.

And she certainly wasn’t opposed to the man helping her. Johnny was sweet and goofy in the best ways possible. Where Simon had been a solid wall of scars and fear, Johnny was a book that fell open the moment Simon had finally introduced them. He was easy to be around and Y/N couldn’t deny that she had gotten a small crush on the man when he tripped over himself to order her the most atrocious sounding cocktail just to get a smile out of her while she was having a terrible day. She also saw the way he made her Simon relax even through the thick shield of his mask.

She eyed the side table by the bed where she kept all her private toys but quickly dismissed that idea. Instead she wandered down the hall, intent on pouring herself a drink just to take the edge off. She could only imagine what would walk through that door.

“This punishment for flirting with your bird, Ghost?” Soap was doubled over, struggling to catch his breath with the full kit he donned plus the training dummy he had been forced to carry on his back. Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, remaining silent where he stood at the side of the field. “Look, had one too many. Can ya blame me for getting friendly with a pretty lass?” The sun was high in the sky, the temperature rising steadily but still, he had made his sergeant run laps while the newer recruits were posted with Price for the day.

The pack and dummy slid off his back, landing on the running track with a thud. “Alright, what’s really gone on? This is bigger than what happened the other night.” Ghost’s shoulders dropped as his chest heaved with a deep breath. He nodded towards the benches which Soap gladly collapsed onto. 

Silence descended on the two men as each sat with their thoughts. Johnny knew that Ghost would talk when he was ready, and he could only hope that he wouldn’t be murdered for finding his best friend’s girlfriend absolutely gorgeous.

“I want ya to fuck her.” Johnny’s neck popped with the force at which he snapped his head over to Ghost who was already looking at him. 

The rumble of a car’s engine sounded above the din of soft jazz from the speakers. Yet the house remained still, tensed for what was to come. The car door opened then slammed shut. Simon. 

The second door was much more cautious, barely making any noise when it closed, even the crickets hiding in the long grass along the drive were louder than his footsteps on the gravel. Johnny. 

Y/N smiled to herself and tugged at the silky nightgown she saved for special occasions. Already, she was trembling with excitement, arousal dripping onto her bare thighs (she thought it better to forgo panties entirely rather than have another obstacle in the way). 

“Birdie?” Simon’s voice was thick with his lust. Her fingers curled into the dress’s hem as she called back.

“‘M in the bedroom.” She hoped they heard her tone was sexy rather than the desperate whine it came out as. She readjusted herself so she sat up on her knees in the centre of the bed, a position she knew made Simon short circuit every time. There was a muffled conversation from downstairs then, the stairs creaked with the weight of both men. Y/N swallowed thickly as the footsteps paused right outside the door.

“Ghost-“

“No, hear me out. She’s-“ He scrubs a hand over his cheek, pushing his mask out of place. Johnny stays quiet. “She’s a virgin and I’m- we’ve tried but no matter what we try, it’ll just hurt her. I know how ya look at her. I know how she-“ There was a hidden ‘I’ in there as well, “looks at you. We both want this, we both want your help.” Soap folded over himself, his head falling into his hands.

“Christ Ghost.”

Simon groaned as soon as he saw her, his brown eyes almost rolling back into his skull. “You damn minx.” She half-expected him to jolt forward and sweep her into a kiss but instead, he stepped to the side, revealing a nervous Johnny who was still standing at the top of the stairs. 

“Johnny.” She smiled at him.

“Hi hen.” He took a tentative step forwards, blue eyes flicking from her to his superior, then back to her. Simon pulled the black balaclava off his head and tossed it onto the plush chair in the corner of the room. Johnny took a steadying breath before his knees brushed the side of the bed. He glanced at the larger man one more time and then he finally reached out, cupping her jaw more gently than either of them thought him capable of.

“God yer gorgeous.” Heat crawled up her neck as another drip of wetness rolled down her thigh.

“And she’s ok with this?” 

“More than you know.”

“And you?” Johnny flicked at the lighter in his hand, a nervous habit he could never quite break. Ghost eased himself back against the wall behind them, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“You know the answer to that already.”

Their first kiss was gentle, tender in a way that made her insides ache. Johnny’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to Simon’s but a welcome change nonetheless less. Y/N took his free hand into hers as she slid her fingers of her right into one of his belt loops. He made a desperate noise against her lips.

“I’ll be gentle.” He whispered, his thumb brushing the soft skin of her face. 

“I know.” The next kiss was more heated but just as caring. His touch travelled down from her face to the small of her back, the rough tips of his fingers tracing the length of her body before gently laying her down. Her nightgown slipped up her thighs as Johnny climbed between them.

The mattress by her head dipped making Y/N open her eyes. Simon sat half on the bed, his shirt already off. “Ya want Johnny ta take care of ya?” The smell of his cologne and Johnny’s sweat made her head spin. Simon tsked. “Words birdie.”

“Want him bad Si.” Johnny moaned into her neck as she ground her hips upwards, catching the bulge of his cock against her mound. He grabbed at her waist, encouraging her movement. Simon chuckled and reached between them, tugging the silky dress up and off.

Johnny’s eyes went wide. “Ya didn’t tell me just how pretty she was naked.” He cupped one of her tits, as if testing its weight in his palm. 

“I thought it should be a surprise. But you’ve imagined her like this before, haven't you MacTavish?” Instead of answering, Johnny buried his face between her tits, occupying his lips with memorising the taste of her skin. Y/N clutched at his back, her giggles interchanging with her moans. 

“Be nice Si.” She gasped as he took one of her nipples into his mouth

Simon just scoffed and leaned over, placing a kiss to her forehead before he stood up but not without a squeeze to Johnny’s shoulder. “You stop the moment she says.” He warned, earning an eye-roll from the sergeant.

“She’s in charge.” He confirmed before returning his attention back to the set of perfect tits laid out before him, this time he leaned his weight onto his right hand as his left brushed against where the ache he caused her continued to grow. He brushed her cunt with the tips of his fingers, gathering as much wetness as he could. “Shit, this really all for me?”

She bashfully turned her head into the pillow. “Don’t tease me Johnny.” So he didn’t. He caught her thrumming clit with his thumb as he eased his middle finger into her tightness. In and out, in and out, curl, in and out. 

Her whine was muffled by Simon’s groan from the other side of the room. She forced her gaze to him, only to be met with the sight of her huge boyfriend spread eagle in the chair facing the bed, his pants undone, huge cock in his hand. Already his face and chest were ruddy with a deep blush, his huge thighs tensing and intending with each upward stroke of his hand.

Johnny’s teeth sunk into the fat of her breast, distracting her from the stretch as he added a second and then a third finger. Y/N’s back arched from the bed. “Johnny-“ 

“Jus relax for me hen, let me make ya feel good.” His lips latched onto her throat, somehow finding that one spot that made her legs tremble. She grabbed at his shirt as her stomach grew tight and then, she fell.

“Fuuuuck, god please!” She moved her hips with his hand, chasing her orgasm until her cunt began to ache for something more. “Please Johnny, please I need you inside me now.” He followed her tugging hands up until he was firmly nestled against her, his shirt now off and his wet hand undoing his jeans. 

“Whatever you want hen, ‘m here for you.” Apparently Johnny had the same inclination against underwear as Simon did, his cock easily sprang free, bumping against his taut stomach. While not as big as Simon’s, Johnny was no less intimidating. Thick and cut, his head now almost a dark purple and throbbing with his eagerness to be inside her.

Something flashed in his eyes and he quickly glanced at Simon. “Condom?” Y/N pinched his chin and brought him back to face her.

“Birth control. I need you inside me. Now.” Goosebumps exploded along his arms.

“Yes ma’am.” He notched himself against her entrance and with one solid nod of consent, Johnny finally pushed into her. 

The pain was almost muted by the buzz of her orgasm but she could still feel the burn of the stretch and the small pinch at her tightest point. Her nails bit into the muscles of his shoulders but he never faltered for a second, only cooing soft words of encouragement into her ear as he rocked forwards until he was buried to the hilt. 

“Fuck.” She couldn’t even tell whose voice that was, too lost to the feeling of being so full for the first time in her life. As soon as she relaxed her grip, Johnny pulled out halfway and thrust back in as gently as he could. This feeling was so utterly foreign but so familiar, a burning heat that ignited her nerves. 

He slipped a hand beneath her raised back, letting him press in deeper, hitting a spot inside her that she never thought existed. “Thas it hen, just keep breathing. Doing so good fer me.” His accent grew thicker as he hissed, her cunt clamping down on him in a way that made his head spin.

“More.” She moaned, lifting her wide hips. Johnny obeyed immediately. 

The mattress springs groaned with each deep thrust, matching Y/N’s moaned cries. The burn had become a delicate pleasure that was quickly becoming all-consuming and it seems that the man inside her wasn’t faring much better, nor was Simon.

His head was thrown back against the top of the chair but his eyes remained on them, his eye-lids half-closed, revealing only the blackness of his pupil as he watched. His knuckles were white with how tight he held the base of his cock, trying to stave off his end until it was his turn. Johnny’s face was flushed, making his blue eyes shine even bluer. A vein on the right side of his neck pounded with his heartbeat and all Y/N wanted to do was to bite it. His abs flexed with each thrust, a rhythm that sent her up a spiral of ecstasy.

“Johnny, Johnny.” She chanted, her leg wrapping around his waist, heel against his perky ass. 

“Good girl. Takin it so good.” Suddenly, the fire burned brighter and she let it overwhelm her. “Fuck hen. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She rippled around him, forcing his orgasm from him. 

As soon as Johnny’s body went lax above her, Simon grabbed him by the back of his neck and smashed their lips together in a borderline violent kiss. “Good lad.” He growled into his mouth as his fingers curled into his now dishevelled mohawk. He pulled Johnny backwards, his softening cock falling from her with a wet pop.

“Finally.” Y/N was suddenly flipped onto her front and before she could even get her bearings, Simon slammed into her. Even aided by her wetness and Johnny’s cum as lube, the stretch was still almost blinding. A shrill cry left her lips but it did nothing to hinder the man above her, she didn’t want it to.

He punched into her with a force that made the headboard slam into the wall, cracking the drywall. “So fuckin tight. Won’t last.” His hands clamped down on her hips, no doubt bruising them but he wouldn’t stop, not now, not when he could unleash every single drop of desire he had ever felt for her.

Warm lips kissed at her cheek and neck as Johnny’s hand pressed against her large stomach, slowly moving down to where she and Simon were connected. He strummed her overworked clit. “Fuck! Do that again.” And like the good soldier he was, Johnny obeyed his lieutenant’s orders, guiding her into yet another earth shattering orgasm.

Simon practically howled as he forced himself entirely into her before he finally filled her with everything he had. 

“Fuckin hell.” He groaned and crumbled onto the bed, a hazy smile on his face. Y/N rolled onto her side, fitting into Simon’s outstretched arms, her back to his front. 

Johnny stood at the side of the bed, still naked and awkwardly watching the couple hold each other as he was trapped feeling like an outsider even if they were only able to be like this because of him.

Without a word, she held her hand out to Johnny. He looked at it, then her, as if he were trying to defuse a bomb and not thinking about how his best friend’s girlfriend was inviting him into their bed to cuddle after he had just fucked away her virginity. Then, he took it. 

Her soft body easily moulded against him as he slipped under the covers beside her. Their legs tangled together and he rested his head on her pillow.

“Thank you for being here Johnny.” She whispered, placing a gentle kiss to his swollen lips.

“Y’know what they say, two’s a crowd, three’s company.” She rolled her eyes.

“We could always add more.” Simon teased, his arm wrapping around the sergeant’s back to draw him closer to them.

“Don’t ruin this Si.” 

“Yeah Si.” Johnny parroted.

“Watch it Soap.” He grumbled.

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[voxmortuus]

Hi! Can I please make a request?

If yes: thank you!

Could you write Hannibal giving his male!reader a blowjob?

Thank you and I hope you have a good day!

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Hannibal x M!Reader ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Hannibal ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ See above ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 480 ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ PWP | Male Oral | Male Finish | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I hope this finds you well. Pretty basic request. Thank you for an easy porn without plot request was easy to bust out. Sorry it took so long had family over yesterday. Hope you enjoy ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist *̥˚✧

Never sloppy, this man was a professional even in intimate moments. However, the only reason why he was on his knees in front of you and not the other way around was because he lost a bet. He wasn't a sports fan, and you knew that you took advantage of the situation, and now you were being rewarded. It wasn't every day he lost a bet either, but, that being said, you were immensely enjoying what you felt was a well-deserved reward.

As the hot shower water adds to the pleasure, you look down, watching as his lips form perfectly around you, savoring the flesh, making sure you are well tended to. The stroke of his hand, the bob of his head, the attention to the little details. How you could feel the tension and tautness of the lips to add that perfect amount of pressure around, tight but not too tight.

You hang your head back as you enjoy this moment. The subtle stroke of his hand as his mouth glides along your slick stiffened flesh. Of course, he knew what he was doing, and you were bearing witness to it now.

Looking back down you watch as his lips move along the side of your cock, the length from base to tip, his tongue curled around the underside of your shaft, the way he moved along the side and wrapped around back to the tip only to press your head between his lips again and press you to the back of his throat as he picks up the pace.

You hang your head back and let out a long draw out moan into the bathroom as it echoes in the shower bouncing off those glass walls. Your body tenses with this intense wave of heat. Feeling it wash over you it's like prickles to your flesh. You let out another moan. Your eyes close as you reach down and grip the back of his head as your hips buckle in a rhythmic motion.

The faster he moves the faster your hips move in a perfect tandem motion. The perfect about of give and take. With a faster bob comes a tighter pressure, comes a quicker build of your own pressure but you're unable to hold back any longer. Before you could even get a word in edgewise you're letting out a loud moan of pure satisfaction. Your voice echoes in his ears.

As your cock twitches with your finish, like the professional this man is, Hannibal takes the load, proceeds to stand up with your cock in hand, pulls you closer, and looks down at you as he stands a fair bit taller than you.

"Next time, you're the one on your knees…" He stated with a small smirk.

"Whatever you say." You state with a soft chuckle kind of out of breath and in a daydream-like state.

[mx-pastelwriting]

Kinktober Day 7: Phone Sex

Hannibal Lecter x GN! Reader

Summary: Alone in his office at night he calls you wanting to only hear one thing.

Warnings/Tags: Established Relationships, Smut, Phone Sex

Kinktober Masterlist

Minors do not interact!

The low buzz of your phone vibrated against the sheets, laid in your bed once, bathing in the relaxing silence of the late night. Now looking over to the disturbance, reading the familiar name "Hannibal.".

Answering, putting the phone against your ear, hearing only silence, then the sounds of a belt being undone. Knowing what Hannibal wanted, you sunk into the bed, resting the phone close to your ear.

Imagining as if it were Hannibal himself pulling your bottom clothing off and throwing them onto the floor. Next, hearing the sound of his leather office chair stretching as he leaned back, cock in hand.

This night being one of many of Hannibal's late-night calls, wanting only to hear you. Leaving no instructions, just the want to hear your call after his existence.

Wasting no more of his time, touching yourself to the thought of Hannibal wanting you, needing no more than to hear your choked moans. Still never getting used to the emptiness of not having his cock in you, making do with memories of past nights you both shared in each other's arms. Remembering the feeling of his cock and balls slamming into you as your moans sang to his unmerciful greed.

Spilling out all the curses and calls, him rewarding you with the sound of his returning moans, followed by the lubed noise of his cock being stroked.

Starting off slow, as you tried to match it, he sped up the louder you moaned. Quickly, the call turned foggy, almost forgetting you weren't in the safety of his house, shielded from disturbing any neighbors.

Mouth watering at the thought of sharing another night in Hannibal's office, pushing you over the edge of his desk. Moans turning into whines, sending Hannibal's into curses. Both of you diving off the edge together, cumming in the names of each other, sending the night into bliss, with Hannibal's heavy breaths singing into the phone, sending you to relax once again.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI.

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.

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[red5tars]

been cooking some pricegaz x reader concepts (and one primarily pricegaz) bcs of @/fulltacs

cw; pregnancy, oral mention (m receiving), hannigram mention, denial of homo-erotic relations, mentions of kidnapping and semi-dark themes.

1) price who is about to retire confessing to gaz he’s always seen him like a son. he also confesses that he wished he had grandkids, his (few) memories with his gran the only highlight from his childhood.

“little tyke runnin’ around, spoiling them to their hearts content, doesn’t that sound nice?”

and gaz, being the good man son he is decides to see his wish through. two months later, he shows up to price’s door with you on his arm. he never knew gaz had a partner (he doesn’t), but price could care less when gaz tells him he’s gonna be a ‘pop pop’

2) established pricegaz but it’s a secret considering it’s against the rules and also the (smallest) power imbalance. newly sergeant-ed you ends up catching them in the act. despite the wrongness of it all, you promise not to tell. it’s their business! and it isn’t hurting anyone! still, your words are not enough so why don’t you put that pretty mouth of yours on your captain’s rim while gaz works on his balls. show them that they can really trust you.

3) established pricegaz BUT price is not out to his friends or family which is fine because they don’t even visit his side that much. until they visit him. price would be your dad’s best friend in this scenario, opting to stay with him while you explore london. and though he knows how accepting you are, he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let gaz say anything.

cut to gaz viciously flirting with you right in front of price bcs his partner refuses to tell reader in fear of embracing an essential aspect of his life.

4) bratrecruit!reader my beloved. idc if i talked about it before i’m going to talk about it again. i want to clean up that post but yeah just thinking you’re better than them and that you’re protected by your name. this is loosely based off of what @/yeyinde had to say about price’s background (ty lev <3) with him also being a nepo baby. having a nepo off. only thing is he has gaz and you don’t.

5) reader who divorced price and wants nothing to do with him only to be with his left hand man, gaz. don’t even know the two know each other but gaz knows everything about you. besides, price just told kyle what he wants for christmas, and you happen to be on the list.

6) reader who was constantly picked on by kyle when they were cadets, forced to discharge because it always went way over line but their co’s just called them ‘too weak’. fast forward years later when the two cross paths and reader is honestly worse for wear but gaz seems better (he isn’t). reader is on the verge of homelessness so when gaz asks if they’re okay they just.. break down. ends up with kyle allowing them to stay at his and price’s place, saying they have a guest bedroom.

(gaz who has always been way too obsessed with reader but his attempts at isolating them for himself pushed them metaphorically and physically away. however, he is presented with another go at this. price’ll understand, he knows how much kyle needs his toy)

7) hannigram au pricegaz but gaz is hannibal and price is will graham. idk i feel like price would be more likely to witness the horrors of his own mind while gaz just sits in the back sipping on his wine and chewing an arm.

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hi,

could you please do a Hannibal fanfic next (or whenever you have time), where he is rrying to have a baby with the reader?They come home after a party held somewhere else, with him already being turned on after she wore a short/exposing dress the whole evening?(nsfw in the end?) If you are comfortable of course.

Hannibal X Reader: Temptation

Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), cream pie, badly translated Italian, pet names, dirty talk, talk of killing, talk of pregnancy, annoying men (aka professor Sogliato), no use of y/n.

Word count: 2,8K

You could feel his cum on your skin. You wondered, not for the first time, if anyone else could see it running down your thigh. You wouldn’t be surprised if they could. Your dress didn't leave much to the imagination nor did it even begin to cover the length of your legs. You’d been worried about what Hannibal would think of your attire. A small part of you worried he’d find it offensive but that thought died down when you saw the way he looked at you. He kept his composure for about ten minutes before pulling you to the nearest bathroom and filling you to the brim with his seed. 

You and Hannibal moved against the dance floor in perfect sink. His hands rested on your body in a gentle manner, one very different then the way they had just mere moments as he manhandled you onto the sink counter. You could still remember the feeling of him inside you. 

Hannibal was a very secure man. He knew where the two of you stood in your relationship, as strange as that relationship was. You were his. That had become clear when you’d asked him to bring you to Florence with him. And now here you were, surrounded by men of artistic knowledge, with your arm clinging onto Hannibals. He hadn't been worried about your outfit when he’d first seen it. He knew it would call everyone's attention but that didn’t bother him. If anything it made him feel aroused. They all wanted you but he was the only one you had eyes for. That thought alone made his chest fill with pride. 

“I wonder what they’re thinking.”

Hannibal looked over at you before turning to look at who you were referring. There was a group of men on the other side of the room staring at you. Hannibal took a sip of his wine, eyes boring into the men.

“They’re probably wondering about the color of your underwear.”

“Hannibal!”

You whisper screamed at him, your hand hitting him lightly in the chest. He gave you a grin, his hand moving to cup your cheek. You furrowed your brow at him in worry. He placed a kiss to your lips before leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Don’t worry amore mio i won’t tell them.”

You let out a light laugh, turning your head to the side so you could whisper back to him.

“I doubt you remember the color seeing how desperate you were to push it aside.”

Hannibal licked his lips at your words. Images of you flashed into his mind. He remembered the feeling of your skin against his, the way your lips parted as a moan escaped them. He could feel the desire beginning to fill him once more. 

“You’ll have to refresh my memory later then.”

“You are insatiable Hannibal.”

“Only for you my dear.”

You smiled up at Hannibal, tugging him into a tender kiss. A small cough caught your attention. You and Hannibal turned to look at where it had come from. A small scowl made its way onto your face as you realized who it was. You covered up your distaste quickly, not wanting to cause Hannibal any problems.

“Dr. Fell how wonderful of you to grace us with your presence. This must be the lovely Mrs. Fell.”

You watched the man's eyes rack over your body hungrily. Hannibal seemed to notice it as well, his eyes hardening. You placed a hand on his chest, trying to shift his attention back to you. Hannibal's eyes softened as he looked at you. You nodded your head at him, silently telling him you were here to support him. Hannibal took a breath in, his hand finding yours before he turned to look at the man talking to you. 

“Professor Sogliato. I hope you enjoyed your evening.”

“I must say my mind has been… distracted.”

He punctuated the word with another look at you. You raised your head in a menacing manner. You could always trust Hannibal to avenge you but that didn’t mean you couldn’t fight your own battles.

“You must be a very weak man if the mere sight of a woman manages to distract you. And a married one at that.”

Professor Sogliato gave a small grin.

“I assure you that's not what I meant, Mrs. Fell. In fact your husband is the cause of my distraction. Or rather his abilities to translate are.”

“I’m not sure what you mean Professor. You are well aware of my husbands talents.”

“That is true Mrs.Fell. But it seems i’ve only heard of his talents in Medieval Italian. I do wonder if he possess knowledge in other areas. Would he be able to recognize Dante Alighieri if he had his eyes upon it?”

You could tell Hannibal was beginning to become angry but it didn't compare to the rage you felt inside. You were very protective of Hannibal. Just as he was protective of you. So this interaction was proving a challenge to you both.

“I assure you my husband's knowledge is quite extensive.”

“I apologize Mrs.Fell i did not mean to offend you. I’m sure a woman such as yourself would know how to pick a suitable partner.”

The professor moved to kiss your hand goodbye but you tugged it away. He looked up at you with a shocked expression for a moment before forcing himself to smile. He gave a small nod to Hannibal before spinning on his heels and beginning to walk away. You gazed up at Hannibal catching the way he watched the professors back. 

“Hannibal not here. Later you can-”

Before you’d managed to finish your sentence Hannibal had started speaking. But to your surprise the words didn’t come out in english. You watched in awe as Hannibal began to recite Dante’s first sonnet. The room went silent as he spoke in near perfect Italian. A grin made its way onto your face as you noticed the shocked expression on Professor Sogliato's face.   Once he finished the room burst into applause. Hannibal turned to look at you and you couldn’t help but give him a smile. He returned the gesture, his hand moving to wrap around your waist.

‘Bellissimo amore mio.”

“Grazie bella.”

Hannibal gave you a kiss before turning to look at the professor. He wanted to kill him but that would have to wait. At the moment what he really wanted was to leave this place.

“We must be going, Professor. It seems my wife is tired.”

Hannibal extended his forearm. You wrapped your arm around his before the two of you made your way out of the party.

You made your way back home in silence, just enjoying each others presence. Once you made it inside you turned your back to Hannibal.

“Help me out of this will you?”

Hannibal moved towards you, his hands smoothing over your skin as he helped you unzip your dress. He watched it pool onto the floor as your bare skin was revealed to him. You stepped out of the dress making your way over to the drink counter without so much as sparing him a glance. Hannibal knew what you were doing. You often got this way when he did something that pleased you. 

“How are you planning on killing him?”

Hannibal observed you pour him a glass of his favorite drink before facing him. You gestured to the chair with your hand, silently telling him to sit. He did as you asked, removing his suit jacket before sitting down. 

“I was thinking we could invite him to dinner. Not soon obviously. That would be too suspicious.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, moving over to him at a slow pace. Hannibal drank in the sight of you. He took a mental note of the color of your underwear. You had been right when you’d said he didn’t know the shade. You gave him his drink, leaning down to kiss his lips before beginning to sink to your knees. Hannibal widened his legs, allowing you to sit between them. 

“And then what would we do? Poison him?”

“No poison is too merciful. I was thinking something more painful.”

“I could always chop his tongue off. Make sure he nevers speaks again.”

Hannibal's hand froze at your words, the glass he’d been holding pausing mare inches from his lips. You gazed up at him, your hands resting on his thighs.

“You're sexy when you’re mad.”

“Thank you.”

Your hand moved over to his pant zipper tugging it down slowly. Hannibal took a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving your frame. 

“I got wet watching you talk in Italian.”

“È così cara?” (is that so dear?)

You smiled at Hannibal, your hand moving over his boxers. His breath hitched at the action, hips bucking forward slightly. You put your hand into his underwear feeling his skin for a moment before freeing his member.

“Feeling aroused Hannibal?”

“How could I not? After having to control myself all night.”

“Not all night.”

Hannibal laughed at your reminder.

“You looked too good in that dress. Had to remind you who you belong to.”

“Is that so?”

You stroked his dick gently, thumb moving over the head in a slow manner. Hannibal closed his eyes, his head moving to rest on the chair he was sitting in. He felt your tongue move over his dick, causing him to swallow dry. The moment your mouth engulfed his member he forgot about his drink, his hand moving to hold onto your hair. You let him guide your movements, bobbing up and down his dick in a steady pace. Your nose brushes against his meticulously groomed hairs, the friction making you want to sneeze. You pushed the feeling away, opting to focus on the way his dick felt against your tongue. 

It had taken a while for you two to realize your feelings for each other were not marly due to your own loneliness. It was something more carnal than that. At the beginning of your stay the two of you slept in different beds, opting to keep up the farce only on the outside of the house. But soon the two of you started to give into your desires. And now you couldn’t think of it any other way. Hannibal missed Will and Abigail but now that he had you the emptiness inside his chest seemed to dull a bit. You weren’t scared of him, if anything you enjoyed knowing what he was capable of. It made you feel safe. 

Hannibal grunted as you continued to move against him. He was starting to grow closer and closer to his orgasm but he didn’t want to spill into your mouth. He tugged your hair forcing you to remove your mouth from him. You groaned at the feeling of his finger on your scalp. You looked up at him, finding a look of pure hunger in his eyes. You knew what he wanted and you were more than happy to give it to him.

You got up from the floor moving towards the bedroom. Hannibal watched your ass sway as you moved away from him. Before you reached the doorframe you spun to look at him. You beckoned him to you with your finger. Hannibal did as you asked, rising from his seat and following you. 

You crawled onto the bed, positioning yourself in a way that allowed Hannibal to see your clothed cunt. He sauntered into the room dick still proudly on display for you. He moved over to the edge of the bed, eyes moving over your body. You moved to unclasp your bra, throwing it at a nearby chair. You shimmed down the bed, making yourself comfortable. Hannibal's chest rose and fell as he stared at you. He looked like a lion prepared to pounce.

And that was exactly what he did. 

He removed his clothes, allowing himself to become completely naked before climbing onto the bed. You widen your legs allowing him to slot himself between them. His hands move to your underwear finger grazing over the wet patch. You whined for him, biting your lip. 

“So they were red.”

“Where? They still-”

His hands grabbed onto the lacy fabric, ripping it with ease. You let out a shocked yelp at the action.

“Hannibal why would-”

“They were in the way.”

You continued to gape up at him. 

“Don’t worry I'll buy you a new pair.”

“You better.”

You wrapped your legs around Hannibal, slightly pulling him closer. He could tell you were becoming impatient but he really couldn’t blame you. He had left you wanting for more when the two of you had left that bathroom hours ago. He planned on making it up to you now. He dragged his dick over your pussy, teasing you for a moment before inching himself in. He didn’t bother thinking of putting a condom on. In fact he hadn't had to worry about that the last few months.

You see, a couple of months ago he’d proposed the idea of getting you pregnant and to his surprise you’d accepted. You knew his desire for a child came from his mourning for Abigail but it also came as a consequence of his love for you. 

Playing husband and wife had made Hannibal realize how much he wanted to create a family of his own and you seemed like the perfect one to do it with. You understood him in ways he didn’t think were possible. You didn’t judge him for the way he was, in fact you embraced him fully. You didn't have his taste for meat but you didn’t deny him his desires. As long as he was always truthful you had no issue with his peculiar pallet. 

You moaned out his name, causing him to focus on the present once more. He was moving in and out of you at a torturous pace. He liked to make it last as long as he could. The feeling of you against him is like a drug on its own. And the sounds you made. Oh, they were like a beautiful song only he got to hear. He watched your breasts move as he thrusted into you, an image of you nursing his child flashed into his mind causing him to speed up. You gasped at the sudden change of pace, hands gripping onto the muscles of his back. Hannibal felt you beginning to clench around him, making it harder for him to move in and out of your in the speed he wished. He dragged your leg up, one hand bracing against the bed frame. 

“Hannibal….”

“Shh just a bit more amore.”

With that he began pistoling into you. Your head knocked against the pillows as your body jerked backwards due to his strength. You were a moaning mess beneath him, your nails clawing at his skin. Hannibal hissed as he felt you drew blood. 

“I’m gonna-ah fuck- i’m gonna cum!”

“Hold it.”

“I can’t Hannibal i-”

“Hold it. Just a little more. I promise.”

You nod at him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his hand moves to circle your clit. His grunts became louder as his orgasm started to creep up on him. Seconds before his orgasm washed over him he called out your name. You forced yourself to look at him , brows furrowing with your need to cum.

“Let go bella.”

That was all you needed. Your juices gushed over him as you came. With a low groan Hannibal came too. His seed filled you up in a satisfying manner. The two of you basked in the afterglow for a moment before moving. Hannibal pulled out of you, his hands moving to close your legs.

“Keep it in dear. Don’t waste a drop.”

“I won’t.”

He placed a kiss on your neck before rising from the bed. You buried yourself into the bed. A couple of moments later Hannibal joined you. He tugged your body into his. Your frames slot into each other like a perfect puzzle. Hannibal's arm wrapped around your waist, his hand moving to caress your stomach. It would stick this time. He knew it would.

 And if it didn't? 

Well then you’d just have to keep trying.

[cece693]

Hello! Could you write something about how Hannibal(Hannibal NBC) fell in love with a reader(preferably male, but female is okay too!)who is also a surgeon? Perhaps they could cross paths while working on the investigation of one of the cases? And what if the reader is cold, distant and paranoid, the one who keeps everyone at arm's length. I just absolutely LOVE this parallel between Hannibal and Franklin, because Hannibal would probably be "the Franklin" in this situation. It's okay if you're uncomfortable or don't want to write it! Have a nice day!🌸🌸🌸

Give Me Attention (Hannibal Lecter x M! Reader)

Hi, I absolutely love the request because it strays so far from what Hannibal is (and believe me, I did take advantage to write a needy and pathetic Hannibal who's down for the reader.) So this might not be the most realistic but it's fun! Hope you enjoy it.

tags: down bad Hannibal, Hannibal finds reader endearing, even if they're rude, open ending??

You always prided yourself on your surgical precision, the clean lines of your incisions, the careful stitching that spoke of a quiet dedication to your craft. But the work before you now—the dissected realities of crime scenes rather than the sanitized sterility of an operating room—was a grotesque mockery of your life’s work. When Jack Crawford had approached you, his eyes weary and voice heavy with unspoken desperation, you had felt compelled to help, drawn in by the promise of stopping a monster. Little did you know, you’d be working alongside one.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter was an enigma wrapped in a facade of impeccable suits and polite smiles. From the moment you met, his gaze lingered too long, his questions probing too deeply. You wanted a professional relationship, nothing more. Yet, Hannibal seemed determined to weave himself into the very fabric of your life.

“Dr. Lecter, I appreciate your insights, but I'm quite capable of drawing my own conclusions,” you said, after he had offered yet another piercing analysis of a body you were examining. Your tone was polite but distant, an invisible barrier you continually reinforced.

“Of course, my apologies. I find our collaboration most enlightening,” Hannibal responded, his voice smooth, betraying no hint of offense. “Perhaps we could discuss our theories over dinner? I believe a change of scenery could prove invigorating.”

You paused, the scalpel in your hand hovering above cold flesh. “That won’t be necessary, Doctor. I prefer to keep my work at work.” You didn’t miss the brief shadow that crossed his face before his polite smile returned.

“As you wish.”

Despite your refusals, Hannibal’s attempts at friendship only escalated. It started with chance encounters. You’d see him at the coffee shop where you grabbed your morning espresso, a polite nod exchanged, nothing more. Then it was the bookstore you frequented on quiet Sundays, Hannibal browsing the aisles, a thoughtful expression as he picked through titles you’d just glanced at minutes before.

But it wasn’t just public spaces. It was recommendations left on your desk, notes about books or wines he thought you’d enjoy, reservations made at restaurants you’d mentioned offhandedly during meetings. It was becoming too much, his presence too suffocating.

One evening, as you were leaving Quantico, you found him waiting by your car. The parking lot was nearly empty, the streetlights casting long shadows. “Dr. Lecter, this is becoming inappropriate,” you said, your tone sharper than before.

“My intentions are purely of a friendly nature,” he explained, stepping closer. “I find your mind fascinating. It’s not often I meet someone whose intellect I admire as much.”

“You need to stop this,” you insisted. “Whatever you think is happening between us, it isn’t. I'm not interested in becoming your friend nor do I find you interesting. Now, leave me alone." You hissed, unlocking your car and sliding inside before he could respond.

Hannibal stood silently, the sharp sting of your words cutting through the cold air between you. He watched as you slid into your car, his expression unreadable, a mask of calm painted over the tumult inside him. For a moment, he remained motionless, the weight of rejection settling heavily on his shoulders.

As your car's headlights flickered on, casting long shadows on the pavement, Hannibal's thoughts churned. Rejection was an unfamiliar and unwelcome guest in his life, one he was not prepared to entertain graciously. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched you drive away, the tail lights blurring into the growing dusk.

In the solitude of the empty parking lot, Hannibal allowed himself a rare moment of vulnerability. "Not interested," the words echoed in his mind, a stark contrast to the usual praises and desires he elicited in others. His interest in you had been genuine, profound even, transcending the usual boundaries that defined his relationships. You were a challenge, a riddle wrapped in the enigma of your own moral and professional fortitude, and he had failed to unravel you.

Turning slowly, Hannibal walked back to his own vehicle, his steps measured, the grace of his movements belying the turmoil within. As he drove home, the streets empty and bathed in the glow of streetlights, he contemplated your words.

"Leave me alone." The finality of it should have been a deterrent, a clear signal to cease and desist. But Hannibal Lecter was not a man deterred by the conventional responses of others. To him, every human interaction was a complex dance of wills and desires, and he was a master choreographer.

In the quiet of his kitchen, Hannibal poured himself a glass of Chianti, the rich red liquid swirling in the glass, a dark mirror to his thoughts. He pondered the nuances of your rejection, searching for a sliver of meaning or a crack in your armor. Was there truly no interest? Or was it a defense mechanism, a wall built to keep the world—and perhaps him—decidedly out?

"You do find me interesting," he murmured to himself, the words a whisper against the clink of the glass. "You must. The mind like yours cannot help but be intrigued by the anomalies of human behavior, and I," he paused, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "am certainly an anomaly."

Resolved, Hannibal set his glass down. Your rejection, while clear and stinging, was but another layer of the complexity that made you so fascinating. He would give you space, for now, to contemplate and perhaps to miss the dance of intellects that had begun to form between you. Patience, after all, was a virtue he possessed in abundance.

Tomorrow, Hannibal would return to Quantico, his demeanor unchanged, polite and professional. He would respect your wishes, maintaining a distance. But he would watch, and wait, and perhaps, in time, you would see that the dance was far from over. The game, as they say, was afoot, and Hannibal Lecter was never one to walk away from a challenge, especially not one as intriguing as you.

[atrocityobsession]

Palatal Porcine

Hannibal x M!Reader (can be read as GN tbh, very few gendered terms.)

cw: dead dove, do not eat. Cannibalism, manipulation, murder, catcalling, implied age gap...

no smut, proof read 1x.

His grip around your waist tightened inexorably. A muscle in his jaw ticked as he noticed the man ogling you a few seats down in the dim theater. Hannibal could hardly concentrate on the music; the swell of the orchestra might as well have been the discordant hum of frayed wires. Of course, you seemed utterly oblivious to the crude leers of the man, your eyes fixated on the spectacle upon the stage before you.  

You could feel Hannibal stiffen next to you, though his mask of reverence never slipped, his facial features remaining stoic and his posture flawless. You turned slightly to peer at him, unable to discern what had gotten him so on edge. But your attention was quickly recaptivated by the opera singer as the aria began. However, unbeknownst to you, the unknown man’s eyes never left yours, tracing the lines of your jaw, the contours of your face, dark and hungry– a brazen lack of subtlety. Undoubtedly, he was aiming for your attention, willing you, telepathically urging you to glance over and meet his dark eyes. Hannibal’s acute awareness of the situation never faltered, even as he forced himself to train his eyes upon the stage. 

When the opera ended, and after the waves of applause had subsided, Hannibal tried to steer you out of the opera hall as fast as possible, brushing off the familiar niceties of acquaintances also in the audience. You took notice of this; Hannibal was behaving uncharacteristically, shedding his usual restraint and commitment to civility as he bluntly pulled you through the crowd without so much as a second glance. But the man had other intentions for you, beelining to intercept where you were walking with Hannibal, stepping out before you. Hannibal steeled himself, attempting to pull you along, past him and out the doors, but halted when the prowler shot his arm out, preventing any recourse and effectively creating a barrier between you and Hannibal.  

“Ciao, bellissimo,” the man purred, his voice oily and deep, his breath hot on your cheek. You flinched at the closeness, instinctively stepping back and, in the process, unwittingly distancing yourself further from Hannibal.

“You’re as pretty as a dream,” the man cooed at you, his hand reaching up to stroke your arm through the fabric of your suit. “I would much rather stare at you all day than anything up on that stage.”

Your face flushed a cherry red, and you began to sputter, glancing up at Hannibal for aid, your eyes wide as saucers. As Hannibal opened his mouth to speak, the man quickly cut him off. The air was permeated by the scent of cheap cologne and stale smoke, and the sour cloud made Hannibal’s nose wrinkle in distaste. 

“Darling, you are simply beautiful, I must say, I’m quite enamored. Why don’t you ditch the old geezer and come with me? I’m certain I could make it worth your while,” The man said, licking his lips before he picked up your limp hand, kissing your knuckles. He left behind a smear of saliva. A wave of revulsion and panic flooded your senses, and you struggled to come up with a response besides a feeble attempt to tug your hand out from his grasp. The man simply chuckled and held you tighter, your knuckles turning white under his harsh hold. Hannibal’s hand shot out, a bruising grip on the man’s shoulder, forcing him back. 

“The gentleman is not interested,” Hannibal interjected, his voice steady but dripping with malice. “It would serve you well to kindly remove yourself.” He said with a predatory smile in an attempt to maintain his manners among his peers. The man sighed, a sleazy smile plastered on his lips. He rolled his eyes at Hannibal, shouldering off the older man’s hand. 

“Ah, but he can speak for himself, can’t he?” the question was directed to Hannibal, but his eyes were still fixated on you, raking you up and down, and again, he licked his lips.

“Surely, someone as exquisite as yourself would want to experience the passions of a real man, yes?” This question was directed at you. Your mouth opened and closed fast as you searched for words, your mouth suddenly dry.

Hannibal exhaled sharply at the comment. Hannibal’s demeanor was that of barely veiled rage, condensing the urge to rip the man apart with his teeth into a mere shove. The man laughed as he was forced back, releasing your hand in the process. 

Hannibal took the opening, slinging his arm around your waist and quickly guiding you out of the opera hall. His free hand reached around to grab the hand the man had offended with his touch, and Hannibal began to rub small circles into your hand soothingly. He leaned down, whispering into your ear. “Pay him no mind,” his voice low and smooth as velvet. His eyes flickered back, side-eyeing the man who stood behind you. “Swine such as him is quite clearly beneath your notice.”

The man chose this moment to wolf whistle, calling out to you. “I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go!” He called out. Hannibal urged you on faster, committing the man's face to his memory. Transgressions of this caliber hardly ever went unpunished, especially not one as egregious as the execrable display that had occurred tonight— and Hannibal would see to it personally that justice would be served.

⋅˚₊⊹₊˚‧︵‿‧ ୨୧ ‧₊‿︵‧ ˚₊⊹⋅˚₊

Days passed, and you had long since forgotten the encounter at the opera house. You were a little more focused on the fact that Hannibal’s presence in your life over the past few weeks had been noticeably sparse. He had a habit of, every so often, disappearing from your life like this, but despite knowing this, you couldn’t shake the feeling this time; something else was up.

Hannibal finally reached out after one long week, with it, an invitation for dinner at his house. This was a common occurrence, as he absolutely adored cooking dinner for you. You accepted happily, relieved that he had finally made space in his busy schedule to see you. You arrived at the Lecter household fifteen minutes before eight. You knew Hannibal valued manners, and punctuality was one of the most important. In no time, you were situated at his dining room table. Soft piano filled the room, with the occasional clatter of cutlery in the background emanating from the kitchen. Transcendental Etude No. 6 in G minor. One of your favorites.

Hannibal didn’t make you wait long, setting down a covered platter before your seat. He halted, hovering over your sitting form before placing a small kiss on the top of your head. You smiled and let out a pleased exhale. Well, he was certainly feeling affectionate today. You waited for him to take his seat–the head of the table– before you moved to uncover the platter, staring down at the dish. It was foreign to you, as most of his dishes were. Hannibal took great pride in delineating each aspect of every meal he prepared, his words scrupulous. This evening was no different– as you began to take in the dish before, he started to speak with magniloquence almost immediately. 

“Today, I’ve prepared a treat especially for you, my little lamb. Langue de Porc. A French delicacy. Pork tongue. Prior to the time of you or I, langue de porc was considered a delicacy, reserved for the aristocracy and the upper echelons of society. It was a symbol of status, of refinement. A way to demonstrate one's sophistication and worldliness, often in elaborate presentations or terrines,” Hannibal explained as he began to cut into his own dish. You just stared down at the platter, your stomach inexplicably churning. For some unknown reason, you were a mix of anxiety, and as Hannibal spoke, with each word, your sense of unease grew stronger. “The meat itself was said to be infused with certain properties. Properties that served to heighten the senses.” 

You squirmed in your seat, hesitantly picking up your fork and knife. You cracked a smile, though your eyes were swimming with trepidation. Hannibal’s tone was darker, his demeanor clouded with something sinister. He watched with a sly smirk as you cut off a piece of the peculiarly shaped meat. You chewed slowly, savoring the taste. It was unique, with a mild and fatty flavor that melted into your mouth. Hannibal watched you, focusing on the way your jaw worked around the bite as if he were counting each time your mandible contracted.

Only when he watched your Adam’s apple bob, the indication that you had swallowed, did Hannibal relax, offering you a triumphant smile. You cracked a smile in an attempt to lighten the tension. “Kind of small for a pig,” You remarked. It was your lame attempt at small talk. 

Hannibal’s smile begins to stretch unnaturally at the corners. What had started as a harmless quirk of his lips had begun to transform into something sinister, his teeth bared in a grin more reminiscent of a predator; the warmth had drained away from his features, leaving behind a chilling sense of malice. 

Surely you had imagined it, right? The way his eyes seemed to glint with a predatory sharpness, dark and unyielding. The shadows that seemed to deepen around his features– his cheekbones sharpening, his lips curled up almost unnaturally. And then he began to speak, his voice slithering through the air. It was carried on an unnatural calm as if he reveled in the discomfort he was causing. Each syllable seemed to hang in the air. You dropped your fork onto the dining table, suddenly sick with the implication of his words.

“Ah, yes. An astute observation. When measured from the oropharynx, a typical length for a hog is roughly thirteen centimeters.” Hannibal casually began to cut off another tongue piece, savoring it. “This particular type of swine, however, usually measures around eight and a half centimeters.” His eyes were dark pools of onyx. Your breathing increased, knowing his following words. Willing them not to be said. 

Hannibal leaned forward so that his face was a hand’s breadth away. Your head was swimming. “Yes, my little lamb. This particular pig had a foul mouth and a tongue better suited for a butcher’s block than a human mouth.” 

As the words settled into the dimly lit dining room, your vision began to swim, your chest heaving. Undoubtedly, Hannibal had spent the days you had been apart hunting down the foul-mouthed man from the opera, slaughtering the offending profligate and, as some sick and twisted form of recompense, serving his tongue up to you on a salver--his mind diseased with perverted justice.

Hannibal cooed at you, trailing the back of his hand down your face, his fingers catching under your chin as he guided you to look up at him. 

“Oh, mon amour,” He crooned, his hand cool against your skin that was feverish with anxiety. “You look positively green. Is this idea of such delights too much for your delicate constitution?” 

Hannibal released your chin, tutting in disappointment. “Here I thought you might be a little more appreciative to my gift.” Hannibal resumed eating, his eyes never leaving yours. “A dish with a garnish of retribution. Don’t be afraid…” His voice trails lower as he lifts his own fork, a piece of the tongue skewered on the edge, putting it against your lips. The meat easily slides past your plump lips, landing on your tongue. Under his unyielding gaze, you find it impossible to deny him.

“There we go,” He says softly. “Can you hear the sound of your mind breaking when you deny yourself?” The meat settled like a brick in your stomach. “Surrender to the hunger,” he insisted, his breath ghosting over your cheek as he leaned in closer. 

You mechanically picked up your fork, slicing off a piece of the fatty pink meat, and bringing it to your mouth with much chagrin. And you realized… As you bit down and soft flesh gave way with a telltale wet squelch, your teeth coated in a greasy sheen, that this was your indoctrination. That this is what a soul’s slaughter could look like and that Hannibal was going to drag you down with him too, a substitute god for when you longed for devotion. The slimy texture lingered in your mouth, refusing to be swallowed easily. It was as if the dish itself had no intention of being forgotten, clinging to you in a way that made your stomach churn. You had become exactly what he had wanted you to be as you fell into disgrace.

⋅˚₊⊹₊˚‧︵‿‧ ୨୧ ‧₊‿︵‧ ˚₊⊹⋅˚₊

thanks so much for reading. I had this idea swirling in the noggin for about a year now and finally decided to write it. It still isn't as fleshed out as I had hoped, but alas... hopefully, I get the fervor to write more. I swear something possessed me so I finished this entire thing in about two hours 。°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°。

[s-i-ll-y-w-i-ll-y]

Be our guest~

Hannigram/ Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Teen!reader

Summary: Hannibal and Will host a small dinner party between themselves, a work friend and her family. But with Will and Hannibal, there’s no such thing as a happy ending.

TW! Drugging, Delulu Hannibal, mention of blood, mention of vomit(not detailed)

~~~~~~

“Do we have to eat with them?” Your father groaned to your mother as he parked the car next to the house.

“Yes. They’re my friends and it’s not everyday we get to eat out.” Your mother snapped back. She opened her car door and stepped out slowly, brushing down the creases in her dress.

With a heavy sigh, you opened your car door and followed your mother to the small, metal gate at the front of the garden. The silky darkness of night preventing any greenery to show over the bars, causing the grey stone path ahead to be hard to navigate.

You held onto your mother’s arm as she stumbled forward in her heels. “It would be great to have my husband walk me to the front door. Not my child.” She scoffed bluntly.

“Walk yourself. You’d nag at me the whole way anyways.” Your father retorted, trailing behind. He passed your mum a bottle of wine, practically shoving it into her arms.

Your mother fixed her hair before pressing the doorbell. A pleasant ring echoed behind the tall door and soon after the door creaked open.

“Y/M/N, Hannibal and I are so happy you could make it.” The man smiled as he stepped aside to allow your family to enter, taking the bottle of wine from your mum with a small thank you. He shook your fathers hand before guiding you all to the lounge. They’re house was big. Bigger than yours or any house you had been in before. It had room after room all the way down the hall, with a big staircase at the end. Each wall had something on it, either art or a clock. No family photos or honeymoon pictures. Just rich art or an old clock.

The man sat down beside your dad, although while speaking to your parents his eyes were tracked on you. Eventually he looked away to address all of you, “Hannibal’s in the kitchen at the moment, hopefully he’ll be through in a second to greet you.”

And, as if it were rehearsed, who you assumed was Hannibal waltzed through the doorway. He dried his hands off with a towel before throwing it over his shoulder. “Y/M/N, I’m so glad you could come. Good to see you as well, Y/F/N, have you been doing better since our last appointment?”

Your father rolled his eyes and made himself comfortable on a leather sofa before answering, “Yeah yeah, I’ve been doing great.”

You looked towards your mother, noticing how her gaze lingered on Hannibal, her eyes taking in every inch of him. She never looked at your dad like that.

Yikes.

Hannibal narrowed his eyes and stared at your father for a moment too long, as if he was analysing him, before reverting his gaze to you. “You must be Y/N. Your father speaks of you often.”

“All bad, I assume.” You joked, offering the man a small smile.

He hummed at your joke, returning the smile. “Well, I’m sorry to cut this short but I have to get back to work. Y/F/N, would you care to help me?” His gaze darted back to your dad.

Begrudgingly, your father stood up and sauntered over to Hannibal, presumably to follow him into the kitchen.

“So, Y/N,” the other man began, “your mother tells me you’re heading down the same path as her. Studying to be a criminal psychologist too?”

You gently nodded, “That’s what I’m hoping for.”

A somber silence fell between the three of you until your mother spoke up and sparked a conversation which you had no interest in. Something about Abel Gideon’s attack or whatever.

After half an hour of boring conversation and staring at the ceiling, Dr Lecter called all of you through to the dining room. That’s how you found out the other man’s name, Will.

You took your seat between Will and Dr Lecter, letting your parents sit together. The adults began chatting about work and life and God knows what else. All of it was boring.

While you were poking and prodding at the fish on your plate you heard your name be muttered by Dr Lecter. Your head shot up in his direction.

“What do you think?”

A soft blush burned your cheeks as you bashfully stated, “I’m really sorry but I haven’t been paying attention.”

He chuckled softly before asking what you thought of the food. To which you only gave compliments, not wanting to upset him. Dr Lecter smiled softly, thanking you, before turning back to speaking with your parents.

Throughout the numerous courses Dr Lecter brought out, you slowly began to feel more and more sick and tired, to the point where you felt your eyes rolls back in your head and your stomach churn and ache.

You gently placed your fork on your plate and leaned back in your chair, immediately gaining attention from Will who nudged you.

“You okay, kid?” His face strewn with worry.

Sweat dripped down your brow as you nodded sharply, “Yeah, no, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

“Well, we have a guest bedroom upstairs that we would be more than happy to let you borrow.” Dr Lecter chimed in.

“No it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

“We insist.”

After that you had no say in wether you went or not. Will slowly guided you up the stairs and down the hall, at points he was pausing to make sure you were fine.

You always said you were fine despite your migraine making your vision blurry and your feet feeling numb. Once you reached the top of the stairs, you fell into Will and luckily he caught you, picking you up before you could try to stand again. You would have been so embarrassed if you hadn’t been feeling this bad.

The walk to the spare bedroom was tedious. Time felt as if it had slowed down to taunt you- to make sure you felt every second of pain.

Finally, Will reached the room. The door creaked open and the light flickered on. Through your blurry vision you almost thought it was your room at home. Same bed frame, wardrobe, vanity, dresser- all of it was identical. Maybe you were just being crazy. Maybe this was your brain trying to comfort you and make you see a place that makes you feel safe.

He gently placed you down on the bed, making you sit up to the best of your ability while he took off your shoes so the sheets didn’t get muddy. He then pulled back the duvet and let you fall onto the pillow, immediately falling asleep. He smiled, softly brushing hair out of your face before stepping out of the room and turning off the lights.

~

A loud crash abruptly woke you up, jolting you upright. A sense of dread washed over you as you peeled back the covers and slowly navigated your way to the thin line of light emerging from the frame of the door.

A shiver racked down your spine as the cold, hard wooden floors touched your feet.

Each step on the floor creaked under the weight of you. The loudness made you worried that the wrong person could hear and come to get you.

They were probably just watching a movie, you reasoned with yourself, trying to think of any logical explanation while feeling like something was watching you.

The abyss like darkness which awaited you at the bottom of the steps was the worst. That feeling of dread set in faster and harder as you stepped into the nothingness that called out for you.

Trying to find a way around this house felt impossible. You felt like a rat trapped in a maze trying to find its reward, and your rat race reward could only be freedom.

You crept into the kitchen, then the dining room, then the lounge, flicking on the lights as you did. Each one you were wary about entering, that dread in your stomach building up more and more.

And when a hand clasped your shoulder, you felt like crying out. You spun around, pushing the hand away and stumbling to the plush, carpeted floor. Looking up, you saw the slim and shadowed figure of one of your hosts for the evening,

Will.

Your eyes widened as you heard him call out for Hannibal. Quickly, you scrambled to your feet and made a mad dash for the closest exit, accidentally bumping into something.

Something whose chest rose and fell with each heavy heaving breath, something which grabbed you and pulled you close, something that glistened with sweat and blood in the bright white moonlight from out the old windows.

“It’s alright, Mischa..” Hannibal sighed, holding you against him, “You’re safe now.”

~~~~~~~

02:03 Saturday, 10th of August 2024

10/8/24

AN- this is low-key shit, but I kinda like the idea. I just don’t think I could write it well.

Also, three hours ago it was my birthday 🥳🥳🦅

Love you all :3