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phntmeii · 6 months

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Hil

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

If that makes sense...

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

Like even harder or stronger than the slasher.

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

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

Being Stronger than Slashers .

[ SFW + Fem Terms]

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

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

Bo Sinclair

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vincent Sinclair

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hannibal Lecter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Will Graham

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is it a bad thing?"

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

Thomas Hewitt

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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dominantslasherking · 6 months

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Hannibal drooling over how fit and muscled one of his patients (reader) is and just fantasizing about what he’d let reader do to him during one of their sessions.

Hannibal Lecter With Dominant Male S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+

Hannibal's eyes tilted towards the seat across from him, His patient with a remarkable physique, one with lean and well-taken care of muscles, but not over the top, just the right amount, (in Hannibal's keen gaze.)

Leaning forward slightly, Hannibal's sole gaze fixated upon you. Strolling off-topic was, unprofessional of Hannibal, and he knew it, but even so, he dare speak, ""One must wonder what sort of discipline it takes to achieve such a body." For Hannibal Lecter to be so loose-lipped with his desires, was something you would never see him do, but it seems you just had that taunting effect on him. "Working out....helps me manage stress." Your husky voice followed up his strange comment. After Hannibal listened to your words, there was a pause, a silence so deep that it made Hannibal's mind wander and fiddle around. His thoughts slipped into a seductive reverie. ----- [Name]'s fingers brush against my arm, sending a thrill down my spine. Not being able to resist the hunger devouring me, I lean in, our lips pressed against one another. My acute senses overriding themselves, on fire in a blaze My hands find their way to the contours of his abs, I can't help but hear [Name] let out an almost inaudible growl. Slowly I descend downwards, to the floor, on my knees before a glorious being such as you. Opening my mouth ever so slightly to let your cock slip into my mouth-- ---- Hannibal suddenly snapped his head towards you, the line between reality and imagination fading as he yearns for the reader in a way that only no one can fully comprehend.

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kenjakusbraincum · 5 months

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Hi, i can’t help but request this because you write so beautifully.

So I just had the idea of a former ballerina being sacrificed to Sukuna. She does her work good and gracefully but she longs for old times where she was able to dance and feel like she’s flying again. So she does it in the evening in Sukunas garden. He of course notices and as culture lover he is he makes her his personal dancer. And a cute lil love story forms from this scenario.

I would be so thankful if you form this to a proper story because i don’t have enough imagination. Love your work

Thank you for the compliment! I apologize in advance for my butchered descriptions of dance scenes and hope you like what I came up with anyways <3

Swan Lake

Sukuna x Reader

Word count: 6.3k

Tags/warnings: gn! reader but the words maid, whore and bitch are used, true form! sukuna, bullying, fluff with a very brief and soft smut scene at the end!

Sukuna doesn't care where his servants come from. People get offered to him all the time, and he takes them when he feels his palace is understaffed. And that happens quite often, considering how eagerly Sukuna gets rid of his servants for the smallest inconveniences. His staff is disposable to him, having no value beyond the services they provide him with.

So he doesn't know about your past. He doesn't know you were once an esteemed entertainer. He doesn't know that you were touring the world, sharing your art with audiences of all different classes and ranks in society. He doesn't know you were once the star of the stage, hypnotizing people with the fluidity of your movements in rhythm with the music. He doesn't know you were snatched from fame, taken against your will and brought to him to pay your capturer's debt. You're not sure he's even properly looked at you, much less heard your capturer tell him who you are. You were that worthless to him.

Now you are but a maid. You spend your days on your knees, mopping blood soaked floors. At night, you share chambers with dozens of other servants. Privacy is a foreign concept in Sukuna's palace. You are not entitled to it even in the bathroom. Everything is shared for the servants. There's no space for you to even try to indulge in your beloved profession, even as a hobby. Except...

The garden. Most servants are in bed, prepared to sleep, but your eyes linger on the windows. In every way, going to the garden would be to your own detriment. Losing sleep was dangerous, it could lead to getting caught slacking off, or being ratted out about it. And the consequences for that... well. One could only imagine it wouldn't be a simple slap on the wrist.

Still, you longed for this. The work you did during the day drained you, it was repetitive and soulless. You weren't made to clean floors. You were made to dance, it was your destiny. Since childhood, you don't remember a period of time as long as this one, where you haven't had the opportunity to enjoy your passion. Tears stung your eyes as this revelation found you. Every day, you could feel your life slipping through your fingers. You were alive, but your energy, your liveliness, your personality, all of it was dissipating in the pools of blood you were forced to clean.

''Can you be quiet? Some of us are trying to sleep.'', a servant who sleeps in the bed next to yours snaps you out of your thoughts. You are sobbing. You apologize quickly, and snuggle in bed, trying to muffle the noises against your deflated pillow.

But sleep just doesn't take you that night. You grow more and more frustrated, as time passes and you toss and turn in bed. Eyes wide open, fixed to the window across you. The garden lures you, calls for you. Damn it. You have to try. This is not much of a life anyways, you think. Sooner or later Sukuna or Uraume would find faults in what you're doing anyways, and you'd be served for dinner. You don't exactly have a lot to lose.

Sneaking out of the chambers is easy. You spent your whole life on your tippy toes. No one moves in their sleep as you cross the room, open the door and slide through the crack. Quietly, you make your way around the mansion. Outside, you're greeted by a light summer breeze. The garden is eerily peaceful, lit by the moonlight in this late hour.

You start to warm up, hopping, circling your neck, swinging your legs. Feeling the stretches in muscles you forgot you had. The grass tickles your legs as you splay across the ground and reach for your feet. Then stand and shift your weight to your toes, feeling out how rusty you've gotten in the time you've missed out on practicing. It's not too bad.

So you start out slow. The music plays in your head and you mouth silently, counting the rhythm. Your eyes are glued to the ground, you're trying not to trip and fall on the uneven surface. Your movement feels as smooth as it did before, but you can't see yourself in the mirror to check your form. You close your eyes, surrendering to the cadence of your motions. The music carries you, and as you turn into a poised second arabesque, time seems to slow. It's only a moment, but when you turn back to continue...

Slam. So hard you start to fall back, but his arms catch you around the waist. If you weren't scared out of your mind you would've wondered how did he even show up there without you noticing. But of course, he's Sukuna. You look at him with eyes so wide you think they may fall out, and he stares back with an amused smirk. Then he bites the air in front of you, clanking his sharp teeth together, and you scream in response. His hand flies to your mouth in an instant and he shuts you up.

"Quiet now. You wouldn't want to wake your colleagues up, would you?", he tilts his head, observing your terrified expression. "Or do you want everyone to slack off with you tomorrow?"

"I-I won't slack off I promise!!!", you panic, hands shaking as you bring them up in a defensive stance. Tears pool in your eyes as you stare death in the face. He is... weirdly beautiful, lit by the moonlight. And he holds you sturdily, but gently. It doesn't hurt. And he doesn't seem particularly mad.

"Is that so?", he asks. There's a smile on his face, but it feels dangerous, threatening. Like everything else about him. "Then just what do you think you're doing outside at this hour?"

"I was- I was dancing -", you stutter, struggling to form coherent sentences. Why are you so close to him? You're pulled flush against him. You can almost feel his -

"I didn't know I had a dancer in my ranks. Why didn't you say so?", he says, and surprisingly lets go of you.

You're so sure he's playing with his food. You're so sure he's going to slice you into pieces. You've already crossed so many lines, broken so many rules. You look to the ground, only now remembering eye contact with him was strictly forbidden.

"Speak.", he growls, audibly irritated by your refusal to reply.

You didn't think he was genuinely asking. What the hell are you supposed to say? Why didn't you say so? Maybe because you wanted to see the light of day again? "I ... A lowlife such as myself has no place speaking to your Highness.", you duck your head low in an apologetic manner. And he seems satisfied, smiling playfully again. Except you don't see it, you feel it. Sukuna's presence pulls the most demeaning, self-depricating things out of people's mouths.

"Humble.", he comments and walks a couple steps around you. He's huge. "Go on then, dance for me."

You stand frozen. It's not that you're ashamed... you've performed for audiences bigger than you ever could've imagined. But the weight of his stare is harder to bear than that of hundreds. And the stakes are higher than ever. He has to like it, or else...

"Dance!", he orders sternly, and crosses his arms over his chest. So you give it your all. Remembering where he interrupted you, you get back into position and start. Dance. Your life depends on it, doesn't it? Well if there's one thing you can do to save your life it should be this.

But it's not like before. Fear seeps into every muscle in your body, and your movements are unsure. Every jump is fleeting, every landing shaky. Tears blur your vision, and it's so hard to keep your breathing steady when you're struggling not to cry. But you're a ballet dancer, you were trained to endure. You finish the variation, cross your legs and gracefully bow.

Sukuna watches intently with narrowed eyes, like a predator stalking his prey. You can't see the sly smile on his face, but you can feel it.

"I apologize, your Highness.", your voice trembles. "It wasn't my best."

Sukuna huffs in amusement and waves his hand dismissively. "Go to sleep.", he orders.

You bow before him again, and quickly turn back towards the mansion. You don't feel relief from his piercing stare until you disappear behind a corner in the hallway.

You can't shake the feeling when you're back in your bed, snuggled in the sheets up to your eyes. You just survived a close encounter with Sukuna. And he must've liked what he saw at least a little bit, if you're still alive.

The next morning, you wake up and start getting ready for work with the other servants. The bathroom is busy, and as there's little else to do in the servant circles, gossiping starts immediately.

"Did you hear the scream last night?", the servant taking up the sink next to yours says, tapping foundation into her skin.

"Screams come from Sukuna's chambers all the time. It must be a new pet getting used to him.", another one replies. You shiver.

"Everyone knows how that sounds. This was different!", the two maids exchange a look.

The second rolls her eyes. "So, he killed someone. Nothing new.", she shakes her head.

"No. Uraume would've called someone to clean it up immediately.", the first servant continues. You really, really wish they would just drop it, until... "Hey you.", she turns to you. "Your bed was empty last night, did you hear anything?"

Your blood runs cold. "I was... feeling sick. And went to the bathroom.", you say quickly. "I probably couldn't hear... over the sound of throwing up."

"Hm.", both of them look at you now. "Well you look sick too.", one of them says. "Be careful with work today.", then they finish up and leave. You breathe a sigh of relief and finish up getting ready.

The next few days pass spotlessly. You don't cross paths with Sukuna. But some nights, you feel his presence in the garden. You stretch and practice simple movements in the bathroom, when no one's around. And the variations, you save them for the garden. At night. The only time you feel alive, the only time you feel like yourself. Human. Free. You think you might just get away with no one knowing, but then...

He walks past you and another maid while you're scrubbing the floors in the hallway. Both of you freeze as he passes by, assuming a submissive position and greeting him. You pray he won't notice, pray he won't know you by your voice, but he stops. Right by you, and then there's a moment of silence. He lifts his foot, touching your chin, and nudges you to look at him.

"Oh.", you watch his stern expression soften. "It's a shame for a talent like yourself to waste away on their knees.", he says. You look to the servant next to you, and she mouths a silent 'what?' as she turns her head in your direction.

You swallow your shame. It's not the first time you had to in front of Sukuna. "Its an honor to serve you, your Highness, even if it's on my knees.", you say.

Sukuna hums. "What a good servant you are.", an amused smile graces his face once again. "Well, get to rubbing then.", he nudges your face back downwards with his foot, and walks away.

You and the servants keep rubbing intensively, until he's out of sight and a couple minutes have passed. Then she grabs you by your shoulders and gives you a look that is both terrified and angry. "You did what with Sukuna?", she asks.

You frown, offended. Why does everyone in this mansion immediately think of that? "He knows I'm a dancer.", you say simply and look back to the floor, rage brewing in your chest.

"When did you do it. Was it you screaming? Oh my god it was!", the revelation hits the servant and she puts her hands on her cheeks, looking at you in shock.

"It wasn't me!!", you lie, agitation showing in your voice.

"Does he really have two dicks?", she asks.

You drain the washing rug and smack her in the face with it. "You disgusting pervert, how dare you ask that about your master!"

"You hit me! Whore!", she smacks you back, but harder, and her rag is full of dirty water.

"I'm not a whore!!", you cry, and wipe your face with your dirty, wet hands.

"Dancer. Yeah right, I can only imagine!", she throws the wet rag on you, and it sits on your lap, soaking you in the nasty liquid. "And you're a liar too! How shameless!"

"What is this commotion about?", a voice calls from the back of the hallway, and you turn around with teary eyes. Uraume looks like a blob of white in your vision, nonetheless they're recognizable.

"Tell them! You hit me, you little bitch!", the servant slaps your shoulder. You don't have it in you to fight back. The injustice pains your heart, and you can't bear the embarrassment.

Uraume smirks, noting your disheveled appearance. Your whole uniform is soaked now, even your hair. There's a pool of water forming around you as the liquid seeps out of the rags. "Clean this mess immediately. Master will be notified of this issue.", they say, and walk past the two of you.

The servant looks at you with contempt burning in her eyes. Then spits in front of you. "Clean.", she says, takes the rag you hit her with and starts cleaning.

Sukuna sees you that evening. He sits on his throne, head in his hand, and looks down on you and the other servant. He hides his inner smile, the joy he takes in executing power over others. And it's you again. He asks what this is about, and the servant wastes no time pointing her finger at you, saying you hit her first.

Sukuna's critical stare turns to you. ''Is that true?'', he asks, scanning you from head to toe, noting the state you're in. He's not particularly happy to see you like that.

You timidly nod, admitting your fault in the situation. Your stare is fixed to the ground, where dirty water drips down from your soaked clothes. You smell, and look like a rat, all of that in front of Sukuna. You wish the ground would swallow you whole and spare you this humiliation.

But he knows you. You've captivated him. Otherwise he wouldn't have cared to ask if you have anything to say in your defense. You tell him, omitting the details of her perverse question, you simply say she was slandering his holy name.

Sukuna moves, leaning his elbows on his knees. You care about his name? How lovely. So what is this slanderous thing his servants fought about?

Silence. You and the servant exchange uncomfortable looks. If there was one thing the both of you could agree on for the day, it was that repeating it in front of him was too vulgar. With that, Sukuna quickly grows bored with the situation. When he raises his hand, both of you flinch, expecting immediate punishment. However, nothing happens when he flicks his fingers. You're dismissed.

Quickly, both of you scurry away, leaving the throne room and going back to your jobs. The rest of the day is harrowing. The rumor spreads among the servants quickly, and you are the butt of every joke. You hear whispering and giggling behind your back, and everyone's stares linger on you as you go about your day. The culmination happens next morning, when the servants are getting ready in the bathroom, and the insults start getting more direct.

''Show us how you dance for Sukuna, why don't you?''

''Did you take both at the same time?''

''He didn't like you very much if you're still working as a servant.''

And then everyone goes quiet. When you turn around, you see Uraume at the door, their eyes fixed on you. ''Come.'', they say quietly, and leave without waiting for you to catch up. Well, it seems your punishment is due. You gladly leave the bathroom and follow them down the hall, anything is better than spending another second with the other servants. But now that you think of it, where is the servant that shares your punishment? Have you even seen her this morning? Or after the meeting with Sukuna at all?

You turn a couple corners, and stop at the end of the hallway. Uraume opens the doors to a room, and ushers you inside. What is this? It's furnished. Modestly, but... You open your mouth to ask a question, but you're quickly cut off.

''Make yourself at home.'', they say, and turn their attention to you.

''What about my things?'', you ask, looking around the room, then back to Uraume.

''You won't need them. Do you have good table manners?''

''Uhh.. yeah... I think.''

''Great. You dine with Master Sukuna tonight.''

''Huh!?''

''Your outfit is on the bed, be ready by sunset. I'll come to pick you up.''

Then the door closes and you're left alone in your new room. This isn't what a punishment should look like. Not when a beautiful kimono waits on your bed. Not when there's a barre fixed onto a mirrored wall, and there's a box on the ground, and when you open it, you find pointe shoes. Multiple pairs. He didn't know what size to get you. Ribbons, a sewing kit, glue, scissors... everything you need to break them in. Under that, a simple black leotard and a wrap skirt. By all means... this looks more like a reward.

You try everything on, find the perfect pair of shoes, and test them. It's not a big room, but there's enough space for you to practice with the bar. For the first time in so long, time passes quick. You're doing something you enjoy. It feels like in a blink of an eye, your shadow gets long on the wall opposing the window, and you have to get ready for dinner. You put the kimono on to the best of your ability - you don't have the opportunity to wear it often as a servant, being usually restrained in a uniform. And then reality hits you. Sukuna wants to have you over for dinner. This... is this a date? Unless he was planning to eat you, but you suppose he wouldn't have bought you shoes and furnished a room specially for you if that was the case... Come to think of it, what are you eating tonight?

Uraume knocks on the door, and takes a long look at you when you open. They fix your collar and nod, taking off down the hallway and expecting you to follow. They lead you to the dining room, vast and expensively furnished. You hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You only let your eyes explore for a second, before you fix them back to the ground and lower your head in Sukuna's presence.

''Your Highness.'', you bow in his direction.

''Master from now on.'', he says, and stands up to greet you. Master. You've only heard Uraume, and occasionally his pets, when he'd walk by with them, call him this by this... less formal title. He towers over you as his hand touches your shoulder, urging you to turn around. You follow obediently, making a circle and displaying your outfit.

He hums in approval. "Suits you much better than a cleaning uniform.", he says, and pulls your chair out for you to sit. You mutter a quiet thank you and sit down, already overwhelmed by the interaction.

He sits on the other side of the table, facing you. You can't bear the intense eye contact, and the silence that spreads across the room. Your eyes are fixed to your hands in your lap. ''Don't be shy now. I didn't invite you to sit there and be quiet. I reserve such duties for my pets.'', he breaks the silence.

''Master. Sharing a meal with you is a privilege, and I want to thank you for that. I'm not sure I'm deserving of it, though, and how my company may be of use to you.''. The kitchen servants scatter around the table, bringing food and pouring drinks. Various appetizers decorate the table, and only now do you notice you're hungry. You shyly pick the foods that catch your eye the most.

And your humility draws out a smile from him. ''You are an artist. And I am a man who takes great joy in consuming art.'', he says, and taps his finger against his glass, watching you pick. He's getting to know you, through your taste in food.

''I didn't know that about you.'', you say and look to your plate. You feel your hand shaking as you reach for the cutlery. You know Sukuna is judging every move. He was in your territory when you were dancing, now you're on his. And he will recognize the smallest mistake.

''Oh.'', his tone changes. It sounds like he didn't particularly like that comment. He finishes chewing. ''Did you take me for a savage?'', he narrows his eyes. More food is brought to the table, plates come and go quickly as the conversation progresses, and the tension grows.

You stutter, reading his volatile mood. ''I've only heard rumors.''.

He huffs in amusement again. ''I've heard rumors about you too.'', he says, leaning into the table. ''To be fair, I was asking around.''. So he took interest in you. ''They say you were the best there was, until you got captured.''

You chew slowly, taking his story in. He continues. ''They asked about you. Asked if I knew where you are. I said no.''. Sukuna watches as you grow visibly distressed by the mentions of your team. ''The best there is? What a wonderful prize. I'd rather keep you to myself.''. Oh. So that's what this is about. He gets off on the thought of owning you, the best there is, just for himself. You curse whoever told him about you. ''You showed me your worst, and mesmerized me. I want you to show me your best. Dance for me. Convince me you're worth my patronage.''.

The servants bring the main dish, and your head droops, stare fixed into the finely decorated red meat. You touch it with your cutlery, feeling it's texture. Sukuna eyes you as you cut a slice and bring it to your mouth, expectantly waiting for your reaction. You chew slowly, savoring the taste, but your expression is puzzled. ''What is this?'', you ask. And to make sure it doesn't sound like you're unhappy, you cut another slice. Truthfully, the food is incredible, but... you can't quite place the meat.

Sukuna bares his sharp teeth in a grin. ''Veal.''.

The conversation steers into a different direction then, and you quickly forget about how powerless you felt just moments ago. Sukuna is nothing like you've imagined him. He's right, you did take him for a savage. After all, everything you've heard about him pointed to a monster, who only took pleasure in wreaking havoc and destruction. Now, you find him to be eloquent, knowledgeable, and quite sophisticated. In a way, he appears similar to the other people you've met through your job. But way more powerful, and with it, way more intriguing.

Once again, time passes quickly, slipping through your fingers. The dinner is over, and you're facing Sukuna at the door. He seems to be pleased with your company, if you can read his face at all. ''Should I consider my offer accepted?'', he inquires. ''Everything will be provided for you. You just have to dance.''.

Well, it doesn't sound half bad, does it? You're not sure if the terms of the offers convinced you, or his presentation during the dinner. It might just be him. He made you feel you wouldn't be a jester, but a respected entertainer. And not for just anyone, but for a man as thoughtful and cultured as Sukuna proved himself to be. ''For you, gladly. Master.'', you smile at him. And he smiles back, taking your small hand into his, and planting a soft kiss to your fingers. You bow to him, wish him a good night, and you part ways.

Later, in your new bed, you find yourself replaying the interaction. Tracing his features in your memory. It's the first time you've had the chance to observe him, without fear of consequences. And he was beautiful. So elegant in the way he dressed and carried himself. Like a true king.

From then on, life in Sukuna's mansion is a game. Sukuna courts you in his dining room, feeding you delicacies from all around the world Foods that are hard and expensive to come by, that you've never heard of before. He courts you with the things he allows you to do, and the gifts he gives you. You dance and eat and walk around his garden and library. You don't dine with him every night, but when you do, rest assured that a new outfit is waiting for you in your room when you get back from practice.

And you court him on the floor, with feathery leaps that leave him on the edge of his seat, and dizzying turns that force him to focus all four eyes on you. You court him when you finish the variation by bowing before him, on one knee, a breath away from where he's sitting. And when you look up at him, he sees a lover rather than a personal dancer. Even though he's never touched you, or pressed his lips to yours.

There is love in the foods he picks for you specifically to enjoy, and there is love in the way you let him watch you practice. Even if you mess up, misstep and fall out of rhythm. Even if you stumble and fall in the most unceremonious of ways. There is vulnerability in letting him see you fail. It only happens a handful of times, but when you slip before him, you feel more naked than you would ever feel with your clothes off. And the relationship that the two of you foster grows intimate, despite the formal distance you keep from each other.

And that distance closes in, one day when Sukuna is there during a particularly nasty fall. You yelp when you hit the ground, and reach for your ankle, checking for injury. You only notice Sukuna when you feel his hand on your shoulder, and his brows furrowed in worry as his head looms over you. Your eyes meet for a moment, and you're hypnotized. Then you look away quickly, feeling your face heat up from the closeness.

''It's nothing.'', you say, and look down.

''Sure?'', Sukuna asks and stands up. You nod, and he offers you a pair of his hands, to help you stand. You take them, and he hoists you up effortlessly. And now you're face to face with his chest, and you're still holding his hands... ''That should to for today.'', he says, and when you look at him, there's a tender smile on his face. It sounds like a suggestion, but you've learned Sukuna is subtle about giving you orders. You nod, dust yourself off and untie your shoes.

That night, you recall his touch on your skin. Long fingernails ghosting over your shoulder, sending shivers through your whole body. You never expected Sukuna to have it in him to be gentle. But, that wouldn't be the first time he's broken the mold you thought he fit. And now in the cold of night, you find yourself craving him.

The next time you're invited to dinner, the tension is almost unbearable. ''Aren't you a sight to behold?'', he tells you when he welcomes you into the room. He always gives you compliments, but tonight they weigh heavy on your heart. You look across the table and curse every plate and glass that stands between the two of you. You look at him with quiet longing, and you think he knows. Because his smile is victorious, almost teasing. And when you accidentally hit his leg under the table, you start to credit it less to his size, and more to him deliberately crossing into your space. Subtlety is not a word you ever thought you'd attribute to Sukuna, but it seems this is the way you've established communication. You resist the instinct to remove your leg apologetically. So they stay touching.

Unfortunately, this little interaction slowly turns your brain into mush. By the last bite, your hand is trembling and you know you don't have the precision to pick up the last piece of food with your chopsticks. So you leave it on the plate, and wait for a moment when Sukuna is at least a little bit distracted, to attempt eating it again.

But such a thing doesn't happen. Today, he looks at you like you're the food on his plate. "Come on, eat it.", he nods in your direction. You can't read his expression, but it seems benevolent.

"I'm so full.", you make up an excuse.

"Just one strip.", he nudges your leg under the table, and you flinch, cheeks heating up.

"I.. I think I'll combust.", lies.

"I'll be offended.", Sukuna plays along with your game.

"Ah...", he wins, and you pick up your chopsticks with shaky hands. But as hard as you try, the little piece of food keeps escaping you, traveling through the plate.

"What makes you so flustered today?", he asks. "Is it the leg?". You blink at the plate, and feel your face going as red as the wine in your glass. "Come.", he waves his finger at you. You lean into the table, used to following his commands. And in no time, he is looming over your plate, one hand picking the last piece of your food with his chopsticks, and the other gently taking hold of your chin, nudging your mouth open. You part your lips obediently, and he places the bit onto your tongue, never breaking eye contact. His face is mere centimeters away from yours, observing you as you chew.

And the moment you've swallowed, and opened your mouth for air, he seizes you in a kiss. Slow, as he tastes your lips, and lets you adjust and catch up with him. He feels you go tense with the initial shock, then relax in his hold and kiss him back. His tongue brushes past your lips, and you think you'll sink right through your chair, and into the earth beneath the floor. The taste, the smell of him, so expensive and intoxicating. If this moment could last forever -

Foolish you. So much stress and tension, and you barely notice how quickly it passes. , how quickly his lips leave yours. His eyes scan your face, making sure you're alright, and then he's back in his chair. "There.", he says, "Have something to be flustered about."

That night, you think about his lips, slipping away from yours and moving to your neck, collarbones, shoulders. Not stopping until they've explored your whole body and touched your soul.

In the meantime, you practice your chosen choreography to perfection. And when you're standing in his throne room and awaiting the music, and your deciding performance to start, it's the first time in a while that you recognize feeling nervous. Uraume is there too, and his other disciples and guests. But he is the only one that matters. The only one your life depends on. Although the times when your life was truly on the line are long gone, Sukuna is still your patron, and now it's your turn to either satisfy or disappoint him.

The music starts, and the nervousness wanes as you start dancing. Sukuna's gaze is heavy, critical. He's seen you do this times and times already, but now it's final. Now, he's telling you, ''Bewitch me.''. Now, you're joining it together, one seamless show just for his enjoyment. And with every spin, you keep your eyes fixed on him. Enticing him with your movement, seducing him.

And for once, time passes quick for Sukuna as well. He finds himself lost in your dance. In your quick glances, in the way your body moves, contorts, withstands your weight on your tippy toes with so much grace and fluidity. You make it look easy. You nail the landing you failed so many times before his very eyes, perfectly, effortlessly. He almost wonders if you fell intentionally when he was watching you. And he's captivated. By the end of your performance, you earn his smile. You earn the clap of his hands, you even earn his standing ovation. The king himself, honoring you with the highest form of praise.

''It takes quite a performer, to entertain a crowd all by oneself.'', he comments later, over dinner. ''You've convinced me. You're worth keeping.''

''And when I can't dance anymore?'', you ask.

''You'll still be able to eat with me.'', he says.

At the doors, he bends down to kiss you again. You anticipate it, and accept it, kneading your hands through his hair. He asks if you're tired, and you shake your head no. He asks if you want to come with him. Yes, please yes, you've wanted to for so long. You almost thought he'd never ask. Again, his face lights up in a victorious smile.

He walks you through the halls, to his quarters of the mansion. Vast, and decorated with various works of art. They hang on the wall, or stand on the cupboards in forms of statues of various sizes. Sukuna likes to collect things, if that wasn't evident by your presence in the mansion.

''You're dragging behind. Did you have a change of heart?'', he asks, and extends his hand towards you. You step closer, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. You're standing at the doors of his bedroom.

''I was just admiring the interior.'', you smile at him, and take it upon yourself to cross the doorstep. His bedroom overlooks the garden, through a tall set of windows, little plants sitting on his windowsill. And his bed is massive. You think it could fit four people of your size. But then again, Sukuna is not a normal sized person. Your hand finds the mattress, testing it's sturdiness. And when you turn around, he's right behind you. Towering over you, and forcing you to look up at him, like the king he is. But you're not scared. You have no reason to be.

''Lay down.'', he orders, but his voice doesn't sound stern. Still, you obey, climbing into the bed. And he follows, letting you ease into the pillows only for a moment, before he settles above you, urging your legs apart. You welcome him, finally feeling the closeness you've been craving for so long. His body, big enough to enclose you completely under him, so carefully pressed against yours. Light enough not to hurt, but heavy enough to establish power. To give you what you want, what you've craved for a very long time.

He never lets you forget whose grasp you're in. He folds your smaller body with ease, adjusting you to his liking. And you let him, trusting him with your body and pleasure. He takes you gently, slowly, making sure you're comfortable in the process. You feel so full of him, but it's not enough, not enough until all of your senses are overwhelmed with him. You feel up his muscled arms and back, wrap around him, pull him closer with every stroke, every swipe of his lips against yours. Sukuna draws the moans out of you with practiced thrust of his hips, hitting spots inside you you didn't know existed. In no time you're seeing stars - his four eyes, never leaving yours as you come apart.

And Sukuna is stoic for the most part, but by the end of it, even he is loosing his composure. Hungry moans slip past his lips, his brows furrowing as he concentrates, trying not to let out too soon. You encourage him, babbling sweet nonsense into his ear. This flustered Sukuna, completely engulfed in the chase of his own pleasure, is as close as you've come to seeing a god. Moments later, his hips still, and you feel his muscles tense as he reaches completion, deep grunts filling your ears like the sweetest music.

You lay in his embrace, and trace your fingertips over his tattoos. Your stare is fixed on him, as he tells you various anecdotes from his long lifetime. You enjoy the opportunity to admire his beauty from up close. His eyes, so unusually benevolent as they stare outside the window and turn to you from time to time, to check if you're awake. The curve of his nose, the glimpses of his sharp teeth, his strong, masculine jawline. He is an art piece on his own.

After a while, he notices you struggling to stay awake. His hand on the back of your head nudges you to lay on his chest. He whispers you a good night, and runs his hand through your hair as you drift off. It's been a long day you've dedicated entirely to him, so he finds you worthy of this special treatment. After all, it isn't often that someone claims the title of both Sukuna's personal dancer and his lover, much less in the same day.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #sukuna fluff #soft sukuna #sukuna x you #see i love ballet. i even know a little bit about ballet #but WRITING ABOUT IT?? HELLLLLP #i just didnt know how to incorporate terms specific to it so everything is super vague #tons of dialogue in this one too!!#and the first fic i write where sukuna genuinely considers reader to be his equal and not a subhuman pet lol #it was fun to consider how he would act with someone like that #the dining scenes and the whole courtship thing? 100% inspired by hannibal.#dont ask me about it or i will write an essya

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slasher-male-wife · 10 months

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Telling slashers you like 'hot old men'

I am an old man lover and enjoyer for life. I love hot old men I hope I become one when I'm older. So what better way then to make a post appreciating all of the hot old men I'm in love with. I know some of these men aren't like super old but it's still kind of old ok? We're talking an age range from 30's-50's. Also this was buried in my drafts since like April.

Includes: Doomhead, The Grabber, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, Hannibal Lecter, and Bo Sinclair

Warnings: Implied kidnapping in The Grabbers section

Doomhead

He honestly thought you said something else when you first said it. You two were watching a movie together and you made a comment on how you love "hot old men".

When he asks you to repeat yourself and you confirm that you said you love hot old men he laughs. He knows he's an older man but you saying that is really funny to him.

"Are you calling me an old man, sugar?" He asks you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. After you clarify you don't mean it in a negative way he just keeps laughing quietly.

He'll bring this up from time to time when he sees fit. He honestly might play up the 'old man' act just to tease you about it even more. But he's not too offended that you said it.

The Grabber

Because you've been behaving well he decided to treat you by giving you a magazine. He sat with you in the basement while you looked through the magazine.

He noticed you lingering on a page for a bit longer than the others. He asks you about why you're still on that page. You chuckle and tell him it's because there's an actor you love on it. "I just love old men." You say casually.

He pauses for a moment before he chuckles himself. He's an older man himself and because of your recent behavior. "Is that why you've been behaving so well for me?" He asks with a smile behind his mask.

Your chuckle and smile in response is all he needs to know. He's going to start subtly showing his age to you more and more. I think he'll try to show off his hands and arms. He's going to be so cocky about this and you'll never hear the end of it.

Mark Hoffman

You and Hoffman are coworkers and you've been dropping hints to him about your attraction to him. Today you were working with Hoffman, looking over some tapes when the discussion of how long you've been in the force came up.

When Hoffman mentioned when he graduated from the police academy and made a comment about how he's old you smiled and said, "Good thing I love old men."

He laughed it off at first then got a little defensive about how he's "not that old". You explained to him that you never meant it to be rude, you just meant to say that you find older men attractive.

He just nodded his head and went back to watching the tape over. But over the next few days he kept thinking about what you said. It's the most outwardly flirty you've been with him before. When he next sees you he asks you out and you accept.

Peter Strahm

You're on a date with him after being introduced to each other by a mutual friend. He took you somewhere nice and he's driving you home. You both feel a strong connection.

He mentions how long he's been working in the FBI and makes a comment about how you must think he's so old. But when you chuckle and tell him "Don't worry, I love old men." He chuckles too.

Peter isn't too much older than you but he still finds your comment funny. He asks you why and when you talk about how older men are more mature, provide stability, and they're just hot, he smiles and puts a hand on your thigh.

He thinks about your comment for awhile after the date. The comment and how well the date went leads him to asking you out again, which you of course say yes to.

Hannibal Lecter

You met Hannibal at an opera and he found you very attractive. He invited you over for dinner later in the week and you accepted. He made sure to make an impressive meal for you, which isn't hard for him to do.

You two start talking over dinner and Hannibal talks about his career as a surgeon then as a psychiatrist. He makes a comment about how you must think he's very old and you reply with, "I don't mind at all. I love old men."

He chuckles and says he's not that old. You tell him you know that but you start talking about how you love a man who looks more mature and has his life well put together.

The dinner goes well and he invites you over again later in the month. But he can't stop thinking about your comment. He knows he's an older man but he doesn't think he's that old. But the comment doesn't get to him too much because you like him anyway.

Bo Sinclair

You're sitting with Bo in his garage while he's working on a car. You're reading an old magazine when you start to giggle. He asks you what's so funny and you talk about how hot this model is.

When you show him the model Bo talks about how he looks pretty old to which you reply with "I love old men." Bo sets down his tool and looks at you.

"Are you saying I'm old, darlin'?" He asks you. You think for a moment before you tell him no. Bo is in his early 30's and you don't really consider that old.

You have to explain to him that by "old men" you mean men in their 40's and above. Bo will tease you about this constantly. Any time you two see an older man, either it being in a movie or a victim he asks you if he's your type.

#doomhead x reader #mark hoffman x you #mark hoffman x reader #peter strahm x reader #peter strahm x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x y/n #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction

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cattivorosa · 2 months

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hannigram as various texts I’ve collected

+ bonus:

#been posting these sporadically on twitter since I started watching lmao #I needed to collect them somewhere so here we are posting on tumblr for the first time in ages #things a 2013 show will do to you #hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannigram #murder husbands #hannibal lecter #will graham #jack crawford #hannibal lecter x will graham

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romansmartini · 1 month

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ideal ship dynamic: guy who’s the most mentally unstable person you’ve ever heard of in your entire life x guy who wants to bang them so bad it has them saying things like “nothing wrong with that guy. they’re completely normal and sane”

#jillian.txt #many such cases. i will list the ones i can think of #succession #kenstewy #better call saul #disco elysium #kimharry #hannibal #a LITTLE. this is where it starts to get tricky #kenstewy also almost doesn’t count either but idgaf #the x files #again vince gilligan i know what you are #and you know who else.#loustat #interview with the vampire #you do get to a certain point i think where both of them are so crazy it no longer applies and i’m playing fast and loose with my own rules #but anyway. in some ways just trust me bro #doctor who #<- many such cases there as well

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angelbarelywrites · 2 months

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♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting

info;

♡ fandoms; The Boy, House of Wax, Halloween, Hannibal, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, slashers (general), DBD

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Vincent Sinclair, Micheal Myers, Hannibal Lecter, Thomas Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; mentions of blood/violence

The most random array of characters. All 5 are my bfs tho. Also this is written very very informally because it was originally just for myself lol.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire//

> approximateplotofthe movie. jpeg

> honestly you mind your own business once you realize it’s a doll but assume there’s cameras so mostly behave

> you find yourself naturally coddling his doll like a real child when you’re bored, speaking to him constantly

> even though you’re not doing much to upset him, weird things do start happening around the house

> he mostly wants attention

> you leave a note one day

> “dear brahm’s ghost; i’m sorry if i’m not doing a good job as a nanny. i’m really trying my best. I hope we can be friends”

> he scribbles a smiley face on it and you’re a little freaked out / excited

> when he finally shows himself you’re really stunned. but it makes more sense than a genuine ghost

> you’re in such shock that you just. keep going with the evening and make dinner.

> but even once you come to your senses, you end up more sad than scared

> “…they left you all alone. I’m so sorry.”

> he gives you puppy eyes

> “…I won’t do that to you. I promise. I’m staying.”

> he’s even more in love with you than he first thought. even if you’re going to make him shower six times before bed.

> to his chagrin you don’t help him bathe

> but you do kiss him goodnight

Vincent Sinclair//

> bo brings you to him

> at first he’s making some big deal, “special delivery” and all that

> you’re cute

> really cute

> and bo clearly knew you’re the kind of person vincent would like

> but he’s still got a job to do

> damn it

> “h-hey- wait- i can help you—?”

> that makes him hesitate

> “i’m an artist too. i can help with the sculptures. “

> …

>“i’ll be good. promise.”

> he didn’t need much more convincing than that

> bo is surprised he kept you but makes damn sure you’re not escaping

> but you don’t even try because you just feel so deeply for vincent, and he’s so gentle

> you weren’t lying about being an artist so you’re genuinely helpful

> he falls madly in love when you help him resculpt his mask

Micheal Myers //

> Meet because you wrote letters to him

> Not to interview him or as an obsessive fan

> At first out of curiosity, then as a sort of way to vent, because he never responds

> But as it turns out your letters are the only ones he keeps or even opens at this point

> So his psychologist wants you to meet him to see if you can get him to open up- of course there’s a cash incentive

> He doesn’t say a word from the other side of the glass.

> Obviously.

> But you treat it like a normal visit to a friend and just chat mindlessly a while

> And you’re so much tinier and cuter in person

> He wants to stab you so much

> But realizes that if he killed you, he might miss you

> Ew that’s a scary thought

> Still wants to make you scream tho uwu

> He escapes

> Because he’s Micheal Myers that’s what he does

> After his spree he finds himself in your house, bloodsoaked and honestly not all that sure what he’ll do when he sees you

> You don’t even scream, just give a tiny ‘eep’

> “…Micheal?”

> He regrips his knife so he can get it over with. You’ll just tattle

> “Oh gosh- you’re soaked from the rain. And all that blood-let’s get you a shower? I can get you some fresh clothes too,”

> He’s staring down at you in disbelief

> “…what? You thought I’d try and call the cops? I like talking to you.”

> There’s something very wrong with you

> It’s kind of hot

> He puts him knife away and follows you

Hannibal Lecter//

> you’re his patient lol

> at first he doesn’t have much interest in you outside of work

> but god, you’d be such a perfect subject to manipulate with that little authority figure problem you have

> and even though you’re young

> you do recognize some of the finer things in life

> mostly his artwork and cooking. you’re really good at inadvertently stroking his ego

> he starts diving into darker subjects in therapy

> you’re a bit of a morbid person under the sunshine-y exterior

> perfect

> he’s still chipping away at something big you’re keeping from him

> he could do some digging online and through your files but where’s the fun in that

> he gets you tipsy and then starts with the psycho babble

> you finally crack

> you killed some guy that was stalking you years ago

> god that’s hot

> you liked it, at least a little bit

> even hotter

> you licked the blood off your hands and it tasted good

> he’s in love ; good luck leaving

Thomas Hewitt //

> car trouble! it’s always car trouble

> honestly when you rock up to the gas station alone Luda Mae is thinking that it’s a shame the fridge at home is already full

> but you’re the sweetest little customer

> “your name is really pretty ma’am. ever since i was little i decided if i had a daughter, her name would be Audrey Mae”

> new plan, she’s playing matchmaker

> there’s just something about you that’s so gentle

> and mildly off-putting, like the rest of the family

> she brings you out to the farm to see if they have the car parts you need

> and to stay the night, if you really need to

> you run smack dab into Thomas in his old half mask walking in- even Luda expects you to recoil at the least

> instead you turn a bit pink

> “oh gosh- I’m so so sorry sir-“

> Thomas stares at you

> You just shyly introduce yourself, talking enough for both of you

> Luda Mae is already planning the wedding

> “That’s my youngest Tommy- why don’t you show em around? Alright baby?”

> Thomas is a bit hesitant but you’re so little and cute and smell so good—

> He’s already obsessed oops

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evie-carnahan · 3 months

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HANNIBAL 1.01 "Apéritif"

#hannibaledit #tvedit #hannibal #hannibal lecter #will graham #will x hannibal #hannigram #my gifs #oh will - you are going to be so obsessed with him #lives will be ruined

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voxmortuus · 10 months

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

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

►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."

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semiweirdshipper · 11 months

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Slashers as fathers with a child/reader.

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

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

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

Freddy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ok," You whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bo Sinclair + Uncle Vincent and Lester

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Michael + Aunt Laurie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hannibal + Will

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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calummss · 6 months

Text

Mads Mikkelsen Headcanon: Dating A Younger Woman Would Include

masterlist

the age gap i'm thinking of is 20-35 years, so if it makes you uncomfortable do not read!

you would probably meet randomly at a park, both of you walking alone and bumping into each other

let’s add the cliché where one of you is holding a cup of coffee and it goes everywhere, staining the two of you

instead of glares or words of anger, you both chuckle at each other and laugh, apologising with grins on your face

he offers you some money for new clothes but you deny

you start to talk and realise similar interest and it all kind of comes naturally

both of you had intentions of frienly acquaintances but slowly evolved into friends that went out for dinner or drink every couple of months

i feel like you would be the first to fall for him

you knew that he was significantly older than you but your heart saw right past that

mads never brought up the topic because he thought it would be weird and didn’t want to destroy the newly friendship

but one day you were bold enough to ask him if he thought of you more as a friend

he stumbled over his words a few times but ultimately admitted his affection for you

you kissed him to let him know you felt the same way

secretly knowing that mads was an actor, you approached the relationship carefully, always making sure that you were alone or not as seen to avoid paparazzi

which did not work because 5 months into the relationship a famous paparazzi released the pictures because he knew the age difference would cause a scandal

and you were right

newsites, twitter, every social media app was talking about it; his fans especially where halved. some backing up the relationship, others not

the two of you pulled away even more and stayed in his home in denmark

your parents contacted you after seeing you on the internet

they were weirded out who am i kidding?

they met him and talked

realised that you are in love and couldn’t really disagree because you’re both consenting adults but it took them a while to get adjusted

you spent the next couple of months doings various things:

baking (your mother’s blueberry and raspberry chocolate muffins)

walks in the park

snuggling up on the couch watching throwback movies

dancing to songs

your favourite being i wanna be yours by arctic monkey

and your favourite activity was mads bringing you breakfast to bed…

when everything died around your dating scandal, you slowly started to go out into the world again

mads bringing you as a date to an award show where he mentioned you in his winning speech

your relationship faces ups and downs but you know that it was meant to be

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phntmeii · 7 months

Text

Slashers and Hanahaki Disease

[SFW + No Gendered Terms]

Hanahaki Disease: A fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies.

Characters: Poly!Ghostface(Billy Loomis, Stu Macher), PreMichael!Corey Cunningham, Hannibal Lecter(TV Ver.), Jason Voorhees, RZ!Michael Myers

General Warnings: Mainly fluffy w/ happy endings, Mentions of death, Mentions of vomiting/gagging

A/N: Half the listed characters will have Hanahaki disease while the other half the reader has Hanahaki disease. Some other notes, I sped up how quickly Hanahaki affects people to a few weeks at max and included what type of flower I think would best fit in these situations :) Most are related to heartbreak, loss, death/rebirth, unrequited love.

Poly!Ghostface - Billy Loomis and Stu Macher

Flower Type: Purple Hyacinth

You had taken some days off of class, feeling too sick to go. Your parents didn’t believe you but you looked the definition of ill.

And heartbreak was just the cherry on top for you. Whether you had feelings for Billy or for Stu was already confusing but on top of that, you felt like you weren’t either of their types.

You had seen the people they went out with over the years and you were just never like them. Your own love life was failure after failure but it's not like they were offering themselves up in their place.

You were just the bestfriend in your mind. That’s all. And soon enough, violet petals were being thrown up into the toilet bowl every few hours and you could feel your lungs filling, getting hard to breathe over time.

Both Billy and Stu thought it was weird you skipped class. You’d at least give a heads up beforehand. Billy was more worried than Stu was.

He visited through your window at night to check in on you just to catch you in a pile of violet flowers across your bed covers while you laid there, casually watching a movie while you occasionally coughed some more up.

“What the fuck is that? Are you okay? Me and Stu thought you up and died.”

Looking over, you gave a weak smile in response. “Feels like I am.”

Soon you heard some clanging from the window Billy came in from and found Stu stumbling in, nearly knocking some things down before he hopped back up.

Stu gave a goofy smile as he held up some bottles before Billy looked at him with unamused eyes and snatched the bottles out of his hands as if to say, “Not now.”

Sitting down with you, asking what was wrong. You tried to explain but it sounded so silly. Throwing up flowers? And for seemingly no reason.

“Well… There’s diseases that are caused by stress? You think it’s something like that? Come on. You’ve been acting like shit for the past few weeks.”

You sat there between them and could think of one main thing but… How stupid that sounded. You didn’t want to say it.

Stu shook your shoulders playfully before getting smacked in the back of the head by Billy. “Come on! Tell us! What’s so embarrassing~?”

You sighed and reluctantly explained. You had a crush on them—your bestfriends—and you were definitely not their type. You were completely embarrassed, covering your mouth as you coughed up a few more violet petals.

Billy and Stu stared at each other after you said that, as if silently communicating to one another. Billy slowly smirked while Stu started laughing and wrapped his arms around you from the side.

“Seriously?! Holy shit, dude! You seriously haven’t noticed we were totally into you too?!”

You couldn’t even process what Stu said with how tight he squeezed you with his hug. By the time you finally noticed, you were once again distracted when you felt two different hands holding your jaw as Billy leaned in from one side while Stu leaned in the other and kissed your cheeks.

“ We’ve been into you forever…” Those small words felt like they made room within your lungs again.

PreMichael!Corey Cunningham

Flower Type: Red Salvia

Corey had met you in passing and you didn’t mind becoming friends with him. He was an awkward nerd and it was a trait you found charming to be friends with.

But to Corey, it was hell when he discovered the petals that soon formed and flew out of his mouth.

He had developed a crush on you immediately when he met you. You were simultaneously his heaven and hell. Someone so nice to him and yet the reason he found it harder and harder to breathe.

He avoided you for a week or so. He was so used to self-isolating himself when something went wrong. Deal with it himself as he always did.

Corey figured it was connected to you. It started the day after he felt those feelings rise in him. To make sure, he visited the doctor’s and found the term: Hanahaki Disease. And it was because of you.

He didn’t want to say anything about it. His fate was sealed in his eyes. But… maybe?

He decided to send a text to meet up. Better to talk about it in person even if it made him nervous to.

“Hey… I- I really didn’t want to y’know bother you or anything-“ “Corey, you don’t bother me. It’s alright. What is it?”

Corey shyly looked down and smiled to himself. God, it hurt to think that you wouldn’t like him. You were so perfect for him.

“I know this is gonna sound weird and if I'm honest I thought it was weird too. I-I’m… dying. From uh… Not having requited love...” As if on queue, he coughed, revealing red petals flying out of his mouth to the ground.

You were obviously immediately worried. To hear such heavy words from Corey made your heart drop. You had to ask who. Maybe he could still convince them to share the same feelings.

Corey scratched the back of his head, looking away. He didn’t want to say it. Especially since he didn’t want to leave you with the news that it was because of you that he had an expiration date coming soon.

“It’s… you. It’s always been you.”

A few whole Red Salvia flowers came out of his mouth after the confession. He grew increasingly embarrassed, wanting to take back his words already. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Just let his life take its course and end quick without you knowing.

But then, those moments of silence were interrupted by you approaching and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. His lips were slightly chapped from nerves and his overthinking made him think he should’ve done something about them sooner but he was more focused on how soft you felt. His heart swelled at the touch while his hands went to your cheeks, deepening the kiss further out of pure need.

Hannibal Lecter

Flower Type: Red Spider Lily

Hannibal was not one to ever be sick. It rarely happened, if ever. He took care of his health perfectly.

When he started to feel himself grow ill, he immediately knew something was wrong. Coughing was one thing but it was a completely different thing to find himself feeling the urge to vomit and finding flowers fly out of his mouth.

Staring at the red flowers in the toilet bowl, he already knew it wasn’t something normal. In fact, he already knew what it was.

The knowledgeable man he was, Hanahaki was a term that came to mind but with a sense of confusion.

He didn’t necessarily care for people like others did. His “care” for other people was a mask of feigned empathy. Not real.

But if he had this disease, something was different. And it was love of all things? It complicated everything.

There was only one person that came to mind that could possibly fit the supposed feeling he felt: You. His patient.

He kept it hidden still. Suffering in silence because falling in love was not something he was interested in. It would cloud his emotions.

And yet, he began asking about your love life during your sessions. Previous relationships, expectations of love, etc. A collection of information to mold himself into what you wanted.

He invited you over for dinners more and presented you with flowers each session. Each bouquet with meaning and cleanly composed together.

You were his muse. The focus of his musical compositions and the focus of his sketches when he had free time.

His eyes even sparkled softly toward you sometimes if you looked close enough.

But Hannibal knew his days were numbered and he had to say something before the flowers filled his lungs and killed him.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it. His vomiting became more frequent and he could feel how difficult it was to breathe.

After one of your dinners with him and he was walking you to the door, he stopped you. Taking your chin between his fingers, he gently tilted your face to look at him.

“My dear… Please indulge me in my desire for you. It’s grown insatiable.”

He started to lean in toward your lips. He’d memorized the shape a thousand times over through his sketches by now. Each quick line put to paper was a written wish to feel them on his own. “I’ll grow mad without knowing what you taste like.”

His eyes met yours when he was centimeters away from your lips, breath mixing into one another’s. “Tell me you wish the same.”

His eyes looked to you with a slight desperation to them. Once he received the confirmation, that soft whisper of a “Yes…”, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours and felt like life had been breathed into him.

Jason Voorhees

Flower Type: Lily of the Valley

Jason hadn't thought about romance much in his life, not thinking he'd be fortunate to experience it. He thought he had a face only his mother could love after all.

Finding you, you were never mean to him. If anything, you were solely kind to him and he was happy at the treatment.

Then worry set in when he noticed you weren't coming to the cabin as often. You usually visited and left some meals for him and candles to dedicate to his mother.

He worried heavily. Jason automatically believed he was in the wrong. Maybe he had scared you or had done something wrong. He was never good at social cues or interacting with people.

He sat there, waiting for you to come back. You wouldn't completely leave right? Or maybe something happened to you? What if you were dead?

Jason could only find his worries settled when he heard footsteps and saw you again. He immediately rushed out and hugged you.

He signed, "Where have you been?? I was so worried!"

Jason noticed you seemed paler than normal and you looked exhausted. "Are you okay? Are you sick?"

He didn't know how to take care of someone who was sick. His mother always took care of him. But he was willing to try.

"I... Yeah. I'm sick, Jason. I've been sick for a week or so now. Vomiting and all."

You couldn't see his expression but he was certainly concerned. He placed a hand on your shoulder. "I'll take care of you."

Whether you wanted to or not, Jason was already dragging you inside and sitting you down. He didn't know how to help, only that he wanted to help.

That's when you coughed and small white petals flew out of your mouth and into your lap. Jason tilted his head at that. Flowers? He had never heard of someone coughing up flowers before.

Jason forcibly kept you in the cabin until you could get better. You were his only friend. The only one who treated him like a person. He didn't want to lose that.

Few days pass and nothing. Petals had become full flowers with stems needing to be yanked out. You gagged each time you had to rip out the flower by its stem.

You thought you might die. A sickness you had never heard of along with it getting quickly worse? You couldn't help but recognize where this was going.

You laid beside Jason at night. He was attached to the hip with you in your stay. You figured now was a better time than never saying it at all.

You took his hand into yours, something that made Jason give you his full attention. "Jason. I just wanted you to know that... I love you. I need you to know that."

Jason could feel his heart jolt at that confession. It was said in a more sad tone than a happy one but all the same, it was the words said that mattered. "Do you mean it? Are you sure?"

Nodding your head with a weak smile, you placed a kiss on the cheek of his mask. Jason could feel his face heat up at that. No one had ever treated him like that before.

He grabbed your hands, maybe a bit too strong in his grasp, as he signed rapidly in excitement. "I love you too. You're the only one who likes me. I want you to stay. Please."

You felt slight pain in your lungs as the stems that had begun taking root in them slowly retracted and dissipated. He was your cure.

RZ!Michael Myers

Flower Type: White Rose

Michael had inhabited your home for some time. He needed a home base to return to when he wasn’t stalking for victims.

You couldn’t say much against it, fearing you’d be next. And he wasn’t the worst guest?

Besides blood needing to be cleaned, he was silent. You could barely even notice him there if it wasn’t for his giant size.

Over time, you noticed how he grew closer to you. Literally. He loomed over you while you cooked or cleaned. You’d get jumpscared by how you’d turn a corner and see him standing there. He also started preventing you from leaving if he was there.

Michael would stand in front of the door, staring you down until you understood to stay home. Seeing you listen, he gave the most affection he’d ever show: patting your head.

And you grew an odd attachment to him. You’d worry if he was out for too long and worried if he ever came back injured.

You two were attached. In what way, you couldn’t answer that question but you didn’t mind being close to him. Even if he never showed affection or attachment, you knew he felt something. Otherwise, you would’ve been dead already.

Michael never spoke nor gave indication of what he was feeling ever. You could only ever notice the extremes. And when you noticed Michael in his room for longer than normal, you wanted to help even if he always pushed you away.

You knocked but no answer. Knocked twice and still nothing. You took that as a “no entry” and sadly turned away.

Right as you did, the door opened and Michael looked to you with his same deadpan stare you always knew. His hands littered with white rose petals. You didn’t understand until he coughed again, more petals coming out.

You didn’t know how to react to it other than to grow concerned. His hands dropped the petals and grabbed your shoulders, squeezing them. His eyes looked to you and for the first time, there was a slight hint of fear there.

It was odd to see such a large man who had survived hell and back to show fear now. You guided him to the couch, wanting him to feel comfortable.

You grabbed his hand, forgetting how he was a murderer, forgetting how his hands were responsible for the deaths of so many. “Michael…”

He exhaled in response, looking at you through the strands of hair covering his face. He forcibly grabbed your hand, pulling you to him. Ending up in his lap, he held onto you, still silently staring. He buried his head in your chest, squeezing you tight. He didn’t want to let go.

You let your arms hold him to you, caressing the back of his head. You placed a small kiss to the top of his head.

“Michael… It’s okay. I’m here.”

Michael couldn’t take finally having an affectionate touch after so long. Restraint was something he never knew and letting himself have an ounce of it was like opening Pandora’s box. He pulled away and slammed his lips into yours. He pushed you down on the couch, placing his hands on either side of your face, trapping you there.

And yet, you didn’t deny him. You matched his desperate, sloppy kiss. And Michael could feel the air in his lungs return only to be immediately used from his kissing and grunting. And you knew where this was going when you felt his slight runting against your leg.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

#slasher fucker #slasher headcanons #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slashers #slashers headcanons #michael myers x y/n #michael myers x reader #rz michael myers #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #billy loomis x reader #stu matcher x you #stu macher x reader #jason voorhes x reader #jason voorhees x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #corey cunningham x reader

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shegatsby · 8 months

Note

Not sure exactly what you’re okay/not okay with as far as requests go, but I’d like to request a Hannibal x AFAB reader (or gn if you prefer) where the reader has a crush on Hannibal and discovers that he’s a serial killer and tells him she’s more attracted to him because of it. I’d prefer it ends up in the bedroom (wink wink) but it’s up to you :)

A/N; Hello love, thank you for this request I certainly enjoyed writing it. Enjoy!

Warnings; Hannibal killing a man, a little smut

First time you saw him was something else. You almost became a victim of a serial killer but thankfully a team of FBI agents and Dr. Hannibal Lecter saved you. Turns out this killer was on the loose for months and you dropping your phone in his car made them catch him, you were forever grateful. Dr. Lecter was a psychiatrist who was helping the FBI with their serial killer cases and he was also collecting data for a research of serial killers and he offered free therapy sessions in exchange of information. Seemed like a good deal.

It had been few months since you started the therapy and it was going smoothly for him but for you, you had to keep pressing your thighs together every time he played with his pen or grabbed something. Over the weeks you saw and observed tiny changes in his behavior. He started to loose his tie around his neck, rolled up his sleeves, gave your lingering looks. You also had minor changes, such as; wearing clothes that fit your body perfectly and showing your womanly figure, curves and all. You knew that revealing clothes won’t make him come to you so you started to dress elegantly, just like him.

One time you mentioned how much you like baking and he asked you to bake something for him and you did. The next week you brought chocolate chipped cookies and he opened a bottle of wine.

He surprised you by having a cabinet in his office dedicated to all kinds of wine and you surprised him by fulfilling your promise of baking something for him. Hannibal Lecter never relied on anyone ever since he was a child, he never believed promises of people, even the ones he who are close to him because life thought him that people are deceitful animals. However, you managed to surprise him, it felt like a date but neither of you said anything about it.

Weeks went by and you kept surprising him with small things. One day, you baked a cake, it was the anniversary of you meeting him. You went to his office without telling him, it was suppose to be a surprise. Before you knocked on the door you heard some noises, a man coughing and things falling to the ground so you quickly opened the door to see the scenario.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter was on top of a man who was equally tall and strong as him and Hannibal’s big hands wrapped around that man’s throat, you halted in your steps. Your hands which were holding the container of the cake were shaking, your fight or flight response was triggered. You didn’t know what to do, in that moment you could feel everything and see, hear everything that was happening such as your soaked panties sticking to your core. You could feel your cheeks heat up, your heartbeat rising, Dr. Hannibal Lecter was murdering someone right in front of you and all you could think about or fantasies about how would you feel if his hands were wrapped around you, on his table..

When the man stopped breathing and struggling Hannibal bolted to his feet and turned to face you. His maroon eyes were startled at first but you could see his dilated pupils roaming on your body.

He didn’t say anything, his chest heaving up and down, he closed the door and locked it, he came to you and held your shaking hands, put the container aside, ‘’Shh, I’m here, calm down.’’ Now that he was close you could see the bruises on his face, dry blood on his plump lips, blackened left eye, scratches here and there. His fingers went to put a strand of hair behind your ear, even under this strange circumstances, his eyes were soft as they addressed you.

He guided you to the couch. He sat next to you, his eyes never leaving yours. ‘’Now,’’ he breathed, ‘’What shall I do with you, little dove?’’

You didn’t respond, you were a deer caught in the lights. ‘’He attacked me, you saw what happened. I was defending myself.’’ He was so calm a sudden thought crossed your mind;

‘’This isn’t his first time.’’

Your body shivered, you knew what he wanted. He wanted you to tell Jack Crawford and others what you saw but an altered version of it, all you could do was to nod and let things happen.

It had been few weeks since that incident and you avoided your sessions with him. You made up excuses, one week you pretended like you had the cold, the other week you said you were out of town etc.

Every week he sent you a present, the week you were supposedly cold he sent you soup and warm bread, it was handmade. There was also a note; ‘’Get well soon, dove.’’

Your knees went weak with that note and gesture, the other week he sent you flowers, elegant and pure white bouquet of peony. Last week you’ve made up a lame excuse of not being in the mood and he called you on the phone.

‘’Hello Dr. Lecter?’’ you answered in a calm manner, ‘’Hello dove, I was wondering-‘’ he paused for a second ‘’why are you avoiding me. Well, I know the reason but I want to hear it from you.’’ You felt your heart go faster, subconsciously your thighs were pressing hard, ‘’It is best that I don’t join the sessions anymore Dr. Lecter.’’ You said out of breath, hearing his voice after a long time did something to you. He let out a devastatingly long sigh, you felt it in your core. ‘’I was hoping it doesn’t come to this.’’ He sounded tired and defeated.

You imagined him sitting in his office, sleeves rolled up, playing with his pen while talking to you. You wanted to rush to his aid, he was a busy man with a hectic schedule, you wanted to give him something to come home to. The thought of it made you get wet.

‘’Thank you for testifying on my behalf.’’ He sounded genuine.

At first he thought you would tell the truth but when you told everyone exactly what he told you he was impressed. There was something about you that he couldn’t put his finger on. He sometimes had this urge to pull your brain out and study it because you fascinated him profoundly, but then the thought of physically hurting you made him feel disgusted, which was rare in his case.

‘’You saved me,’’ you said remembering the night, he was the one who wrapped you in a blanket and carried you to the ambulance, he was the one who sat and waited by your side in the hospital.

‘’and I saved you, the debt is paid.’’ Your free hand slowly went to the waistband of your pjs, sid in and found your aching core, he cannot possibly realize can he?

‘’My little dove, hearing you say this breaks my heart, your life is not a burden.’’ He knew how you feel about yourself, a freak, a burden..

You loved the way he said ‘’dove’’ his accent thick, you wondered what else is thick about him. You wanted him to keep talking to you.

‘’Where are you right now? And be honest.’’ His tone had a warning, such dominance.. ‘’H- home.’’

Hannibal wasn’t a stupid man, he admired your boldness, talking to your therapist while touching yourself.

‘’Good girl.’’ He loved your honesty, maybe you were the only person who was honest to him from the start ‘’What are you doing?’’ he asked, even though he knew it.

Your panties were soaked, ‘’Laying on my couch.’’ You managed to say, his hand went to stroke his clothed member, he swallowed, ‘’I was asking as in.. action wise.’’ He teased. You were rubbing your wet cunt slowly, you let out a sigh. A pornographic one to be exact. ‘’Nothing-‘’

He didn’t let you continue, ‘’Tell me, do you always dream of me when you touch yourself? His question shocked you, at first you thought you heard him wrong, but the silence continued. Cat was out of the bag, he caught you. ‘’Yes.’’ You said. Hannibal could feel himself getting harder. He stood up, locked his office door, you heard it. He sat back and unzipped his pants, he never thought he would be doing this in his office, well, he also never thought he would kill someone in his office but here we were.

‘’What are you wearing?’’ he asked, feeling like a school boy but it excited him. ‘’Nothing.’’

It was right, the second you heard him lock the door you took off your clothes, ‘’Clever girl. I assume you’re dripping wet, I have neglected you for so long, keep touching yourself.’’

Hannibal leaned back, stroking himself, his tip leaking, ‘’How do you dream of me?’’

One hand in your core the other touching your boob –he was on speakers- you spoke, ‘’Sometimes on the table, sometimes on the couch or in your bed. Pushing me down and taking me..’’

You remembered the scene, he was on the ground on top of a man and choking him. It made you moan. Your soft whimpers and divine voice made him stroke himself faster, ‘’Put two fingers inside sweet thing.’’

You could feel the shift in his voice. You moaned louder than before as you inserted your fingers, you were so wet he could hear it clearly. ‘’Every time I come from your office I touch myself.’’ You confessed, which made him growl, he was regretting that he didn’t take you before. He knew that you were interested in him from the beginning, he thought it was because you were in shock –due to your unique condition which is almost being murdered- and you were seeking shelter. He assumed over the weeks your fascination with him would disappear but he was wrong.

He was about to lose his mind because of the sounds you were making ‘’Stop!’’ he ordered and you followed. ‘’Wait for me.’’ And he hung up.

Never in a million years he would think of sleeping with a patient but you changed his mind, he got into his car and drove.

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