Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/832035.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Hannibal_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Will_Graham/Hannibal_Lecter
  Character:
      Will_Graham, Hannibal_Lecter
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Self-Lubrication, Violent
      Thoughts
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-06-06 Updated: 2013-06-10 Chapters: 2/11 Words: 2120
****** Tread ******
by kimtristh
Summary
     Will is a hypersexual teen omega living in a series of foster homes.
     Hannibal is his latest foster father.
Notes
     Inspired from The Big C where Hugh Dancy plays a gay guy with a love
     for bears (thanks asteripan for the information XD).
     Dedicated to someone who quite enjoyed the mental image. You know who
     you are.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
He can feel the uneven tiles of the floor through the fabric of his trousers,
and he can feel the fingernails of the older man as they press against his
scalp.
The guy is pretty big. He likes it when they’re big - there’s less thinking.
He can feel the pull in his jaw as he tries to accomodate him, the ghost of a
gag reflex as he hits the back of his throat. He can smell the older man, all
grease and musk, oil and dirt, cheap beer and stale sweat.
He moves his head back and forth, lips tight around the shaft, tongue tracing
the underside, following the intricate pattern of his veins. His hand cups the
older man's balls, pressing against them softly, rolling them on his palm and
enjoying the velvety weight.
He decides to turn his attention to the head, now, so he pulls back, a long
harsh suck as he withdraws until just the tip is in his mouth. He can feel the
man's cock twitching, his strong frame trembling above him and he feels
incredibly powerful. He isn't even using both of his hands.
“Jesus, kid!” the bearded man grunts, and he has to contain his smile as he
sucks hard on the head of his cock. The swollen glans leaking precum that he
licks eagerly.
“I’m good, huh?” he says with an arched eyebrow, stealing a flirty look
upwards, but he gets no response, only a firm shove forward that tells him
there should be less talking.
He opens his mouth wide then, wanting to take the older guy fully in again. He
keeps his tongue flat and breathes deeply, because he can tell the guy is going
to start to get rough. And he likes that, he loves that part the best really,
when everything is so harsh and quick that he can’t even remember his own name.
Will though. Will. Will. Willing - always willing.
The man pushes into his mouth then, all the way to the hilt, and Will's throat
through experience accomodates him almost easily. He can feel the abundant hair
of the older man as it brushes against his chin, against his nose and he closes
his eyes, letting himself become just a fuck hole, because really, when he does
this that's what it's all about.
The older guy starts up a rhythm then, pulling back almost entirely before
pushing back in with a harsh thrust. He starts slowly, his fingers still
holding on to Will's curls with a vice grip and still trying to keep quiet but
failing.
The rhythm starts getting faster then and yeah, that's what Will needs, he lets
out a muffled groan of his own, that manages to make it past the tight lipped
hold he has on the man's cock and he is quite happy to hear the man let out an
almost embarrassing cry as the vibrations travel through his body.
His lips have started to feel raw, the pull on his throat has stopped aching to
become entirely numb. He loves that, he loves to be aware of every part of his
body as it becomes nothing but a tool for the older men's pleasure.
He's aware of his own cock, twitching in his pants, hard and helpless as it
lies almost completely ignored and he presses the heel of his palm against it,
making his hips twitch. He doesn't need to touch himself though, he's getting
enough out of this as it is.
He can tell the guy is close, his grunts and moans becoming less muffled as he
stops caring, his hips moving faster and almost violently as his cock hits the
back of his throat over and over again.
He gets ready, he wonders what the guy will do. He likes that as well, the fact
that he doesn't know. For all the guys he has been with, it's always a surprise
whether they'll stay in his mouth or they'll prefer to decorate his face and
pull out.
He can feel a harsh pull on his hair and he lets himself be dragged away from
the guy's cock, opening his mouth even wider, tongue out as he struggles
between choosing to look at the spurts coming out of the man's cock or making
sure he doesn't get cum in his eye. The former option wins and he can't help
but moan harshly as the first spurt lands across his nose, decorating also his
upper lip.
Four thick ropes in total make it to his face, some splashing across his cheek,
some dripping straight into his mouth. He watches the older man's cock twitch,
the man's fist tight near the tip as he squeezes the very last drops.
He hears the man's heavy breathing and unabashed moans as he welcomes his cock
into his mouth again, licking him clean, and he smiles up at him as he runs his
fingers through the cum, scooping it up and swallowing it down.
The guy is trying to get his breathing under control, buttoning up and wiping
his hands awkwardly on his jeans. His own sweat and Will's sweat now smeared on
the fabric and Will also likes that.
He has started to get back on his feet, dusting off his knees and he's about to
say goodbye and give or receive a thank you when the guy goes and ruins it all.
"So do you want money or something, kid?"
He hates it when they ask him if he wants money, if he wanted he’d tell them
himself. "Fuck off!" he snarls, and he wants to swing his fist at the older
man, aim for his nose, leave a mark that lives on longer than his smell on the
guy's clothes ever would - but he knows better. The guy is all muscle, harsh
features hidden by a thick beard, almost a foot taller than him and fully
grown. Will would have no chance - but ah, how well can he picture the scene in
his head if he was just a little bit older. He does that a lot, picturing how
he would fight back if he had any chance.
He is stomping down the alley, ready to go back home and jerk off angrily,
hoping to forget the interactions he had with the guy besides the actual sex -
but it's to no avail.
As he starts running he can still hear the older man's voice, taunting him
because he's still a whore even if he's a free one, He tells himself he didn't
hear anything.
When he gets home and he pushes his hand down his pants, he's still hard and he
comes hard and fast, the smell of the older man still fresh in his mind. But as
he falls asleep, all he can hear is the man's roaring laughter as it bounced on
the walls.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     TW: sexual abuse by a parental figure, mild verbal abuse and mentions
     of physical abuse.
Chapter Notes
     I apologize thoroughly over this, it just... mutated. Same warnings
     apply. Same dedication applies :) ♥
     You know where to find me, I hope you still like this and thank you
     for reading everyone :) xx
It's always when Will has been sleeping.
The thin mattress of his bed dips and he hates the familiarity with which his
eyes fly open as he steels himself for what is to come.
"You wet, Willy?" his current foster father's breath, laced with alcohol,
ghosts over his face as his fingers toy with the drawstring of his pyjamas. He
doesn't say anything, there really is nothing he could say.
It's always been like this, really, of the long line of foster homes he has
been assigned, he could probably name at most two where his darling father
hadn't tried to f uck him. Because he is an omega - and omegas are only good
for fucking.
The old man has managed to pull down his pyjamas now and has started to tug on
his underwear, "Yeah, Willy, bet you're wet," he says, and he has to bite his
tongue because mocking the bastard for his pathetic attempts at dirty talk
would probably be the least smart thing to do right now. Most of his foster
parents haven't beat him. This one does.
His mind goes to the place it always goes at time like this, he pictures
himself fully grown, weedy little arms built and solid, legs strong and a fair
few inches taller than good old Joe as he looks up at him impassively, a dozen
possible scenarios running through his head.
"Papa's gonna take care of you real good, Willy," Joe says, his fingers
circling around his entrance that is indeed wet. Will hates it, hates it when
Joe calls himself a father, hates it that his body betrays him like this,
because it's not the same when he's choosing to be on his knees or his back or
bent over the nearest surface from some guy he just met. It's just not the same
than being under the heavy weight of someone that's getting paid to pretend to
care about him.
He pictures his hands then, large and strong, heel of his hand striking firmly
against Joe's sternum making him gasp for breath, thumbs clawing against his
throat, fingernails sinking in the soft flesh of the side of his neck making
him stumble backwards as he chokes on his own blood.
His bottom half is fully naked now, Joe's cock hard and menacing, bobbing as he
keeps his trousers just down enough to reveal his erection. The older man is
pulling on his arm now, and Will just does as he's requested, turning over and
onto his stomach, because for all his foster father's dirty talk, he still
can't handle the fact he's fucking a kid. A boy. Will hates that his own slick
makes it easier for the bastard to forget.
His foster father's erection swiftly spreads him open, his tight wet heat
enveloping the older man's cock effortlessly, his muscles contracting around
him as they welcome him like they have welcomed all the others. Hoping for a
knot, hoping to be claimed - and he hasn't even had his first proper heat yet.
The older man is grunting above him, his hips snapping back and forth and he's
so noisy that Will can't believe his wife and the other kids can sleep through
it. He knows they probably don't, but he's an omega and they're all betas, so
nobody cares what happens to him. They got lucky and they get by, why bother
worrying about someone who was born to be fucked? Still, he's so grateful that
none of his foster parents have been alphas. The last thing he needs is for
some bastard to claim him for life. Small mercies.
He can feel Joe's fingers gripping tightly around his hips, his fingers will
probably leave marks and he just takes it. His own cock lies between his legs,
half-hard and he hates himself for it. Maybe it's his fault, all those men he
has fucked in the past and his body getting a triggered memory from the sounds
of slapping flesh, maybe he brings it upon himself, maybe it's just biology and
he should stop complaining.
"Yeah, Willy, so wet for papa!" the older man says and he almost wants to cry.
He pictures himself turning around, clawing out the older man's eyes, biting
down on his cheek and tearing it apart. He pictures himself at least saying
he's not wet for him, he pictures himself at least struggling - but all he does
is whimper.
The older man's pace starts to stutter then, his hips snapping awkwardly back
and forth and his breathing hitching further, the disgusting noises of his
pleasure reverberating against the walls. Will is glad it'll be over soon.
And it happens, the older man comes with a series of inhuman growls as he
thrusts into Will over and over, muttering "Yeah, Willy, take papa's cum,"
which Will pretends not to hear. And then he pulls out, letting Will collapse
on his stomach, his swollen hole oozing both his slick and the older man's cum
while Joe admires his work.
"You're a good little omega, Willy." the man says and Will can't help but
shiver, because all it means is that he's only good for fucking, and he knows
that, and he also knows that it's true. Then, all kindness is gone from the
older man's voice as he stands up and buttons himself up, saying "Clean up,
don't be disgusting."
Will reaches for the toilet paper he keeps by his bed, half-heartedly wiping at
his wetness, tossing the balled up used tissue under the bed. He says nothing
as he pulls up his underwear and pyjamas, doesn't even flinch as he rolls over
on his back as he goes back to sleep.
He dreams of bashing the older man's head against the doorframe until his
brains spill out.
He also dreams of taking a knot.
End Notes
     The final work will be 11 chapters, this one is on the shorter end
     but I am unfortunately not very prolific and I tend to write short
     things :( hope it will be fun, either way!
     If you want to contact me, you can hit me up on my tumblr.
     Thanks for reading :) xx
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