Chapter Text
Hannibal swirled a glass of wine, allowing the flavorful red to aerate. He relaxed, sitting at the head of his dining table. Hannibal bit into his dinner, allowing savory meat and sweet sauces to melt in his mouth.
Hannibal’s eyes hazed over as he walked into his memory palace, piercing though the memories of the past several days and sorting what he wanted to save.
He filed away mental copies of his notes on his patients, placing them in a filing cabinet. A meal shared with Jack Crawford became a porcelain plate, located inside a china cabinet. His latest shopping trip for new ties was turned into a handkerchief, folded and set into a closet.
Then, Hannibal stumbled upon his memories of Will Graham. His mind palace warped, bringing him to Will’s wing. Hannibal had been archiving every second spent with the man, the omega man.
As he walked through the door to Will’s ever growing section of his mind palace, was brought back to his second meeting with Will. When he’d first met Will, he assumed the man to be nothing much. A mildly interesting mind in a pretty package, something entertaining for Hannibal to play with, a cheap toy for a child to smash into a wall until it broke.
Hannibal deeply enjoyed their shared breakfast, taking in Will’s meaty thighs and plush ass. It would be pleasant to stand behind Will and watch the man deteriorate.
It wasn’t until Hobbs that Hannibal’s interest was truly peaked.
Will, coated in blood, filling Hobbs’ chest with lead, captivated Hannibal. His violence was divine, his hands were shaking. He’d caught Will’s scent as he placed his hands over Abigail's throat. It had surprised him, as he’d never seen an omega outside of a pup farm, but his nose was undeniable. Under a thick layer of scent blockers, aftershave, and fake beta pheromones, was the rich scent of a frightened omega.
Hannibal was no slave to his instincts and was not entranced by Will only because of his status. No, it was the fact he hid it. Hannibal had never met an omega intelligent enough to hide themselves for this long. Omegas were, in Hannibal’s mind, blind to the world with their pretty, empty skulls. But, Will Graham had turned this assumption on its head, living independently and achieving an impressive job at the FBI. That being said, while Will was intelligent enough to live without an alpha, to hide himself away from the government, it did not mean that he was flourishing in his conditions.
Hannibal pictured the sweet omega as he last saw him.
Will’s eye bags looked like bruises, as if an artist had taken a tube of ultramarine blue and painted the underneath of his eyes. He’d been falling apart, allowing forceful personalities in his life to run him ragged. Will had no defenses against Jack’s demands and would crumble to dust in his current state.
It wasn’t his fault, he simply didn’t know any better. This was not to say Will was stupid, Hannibal would never accuse Will of being anything less then brilliant. It was simply that caring for himself was outside of his nature. He was an omega, he needed an alpha to take responsibility for him, to care for him.
Some alphas looked down upon omegas for their blind spots and Hannibal wished to bludgeon such ignorance to death after meeting Will Graham. It was no obligation, no chore to tend for an omega. Their dependence was a gift.
To coddle and protect an omega, to feed them rich and nutritious food until their bodies turned soft and plush, to bathe and clean them, to lay them down in a proper, protected den, was a gift. To ply them with sweet wines and sugary desserts until they fell into their alpha’s arms, giggly and supple, ready to be bred, was a gift. To fill them with pups until they grew fat, pinned to their lush nests by their litter-filled stomachs, was a gift.
Hannibal’s mind substituted the faceless omega in his fantasies with his sweet Will and felt suffocated by his desires. He wanted to pick up Will and whisk him away, to provide everything to Will. Under his care, Will would never need to concern himself with anything, never need to worry, and never need to so much as lift a finger.
Hannibal let out a slow breath, the air heavy and hot in his lungs. He wanted Will badly. Needed him desperately.
Hannibal would have him. He had a detailed, eighty-three step plan to own Will Graham completely. He would teeter Will closer and closer to insanity, open him up to his own darkness to frighten him. He would frame Will for crimes the omega couldn’t be sure he didn’t commit, then, he’d swoop in and save Will. Scoop him away from the FBI right as Jack caught wind of Will’s ‘crimes’.
Will would willingly let Hannibal hole him away in his house. Hannibal could shield Will from the rest of the world, keeping the sweet little thing just for him. He could spoil Will, lavish him with new clothes under the guise of helping him go undercover. Will could be slowly warmed up to Hannibal’s killer tendencies if he thought he was a murderer as well. Eventually, he’d fully submit to Hannibal. He’d understand that Hannibal acted the way he did because it was in Will’s best interest and that he would flourish under the alpha’s guiding hand.
Hannibal simply had to be accommodating of Will’s slow, soft omega mind. As long as he was gentle and in charge, Will could quickly be twisted to his side.
Hannibal sipped his wine, knowing it was just a matter of time.
------
Will walked into his house and hurled himself onto his bed. His dog swarmed while Will looked up and around to make sure he was completely alone. After assuring his isolation, Will pressed his face into the blankets, kicked his legs, and pounded his arms like a child throwing a tantrum.
He hated Jack Crawford, he hated the FBI, he hated his job, he hated his house, he hated his food, he hated his life.
He hated everything.
Will was bone tired. His life was walking a near invisible tightrope with a noose around his neck. If he was to slip for even a second, he’d snap his neck.
Will wondered, sometimes, if it would be easier to hang, omega instincts begging him to just let the alphas around him make his choices. He always beat back that voice in his head, submitting to the alphas around him would be awful.
Were anyone to know of his omega status, they’d turn him in to the Pup Production Agency, where he’d be seized, separated from his life, and placed into an omega farm. He’d be bred by a constant and ever changing cavalcade of faceless alphas, always filled to the brim with pups. Pups that would be removed from him the moment he gave birth.
He wanted pups, he wanted a family, more than anything else in the world, but he couldn’t stomach the idea of being turned into a living incubator to increase the population.
Will considered his first, and so far only attempt at a family. Matthew Brown, an alpha Will had met years ago. He’d followed Will’s lead in everything, and so Will had assumed he would have been too weak willed to turn him over. Unfortunately, the same weak mindedness that protected Will’s status also put Will in the driver’s seat their entire relationship. If they were to have mated, Will would have had to mastermind everything, explaining the biological shifts that would have come from a bond, explaining his disappearances during pregnancy, and the appearances of children that looked just like them. Moreover Matthew was far too lazy to provide for Will, meaning that on top of everything, Will would have been working to bring in money.
In the end, Will never needed to worry about life with Matthew, as he did the only surprising thing he’d ever done when he’d tried to leverage Will’s status to control him.
Tragically, this was just as stupid as everything else about Matthew Brown, and Will ate him alive.
Will laid and considered the world, realizing that there was one person who wouldn’t turn him over.
Hannibal Lecter.
Will knew Hannibal was dangerous. He’d known from the moment they met, and his knowledge had only been reinforced by the meal the doctor had fed him for breakfast. Breakfast that brought back vivid images of what Will did to Matthew Brown. Moreover, Hannibal had obviously caught Will’s omega nature during the encounter with Hobbs. Will saw his dilated pupils, smelled his alpha scent.
He’d waited to see armed PPA agents knocking his door down. Yet, nearly two weeks passed and nothing happened. Hannibal had said nothing, and anyone willing to risk fifteen years to life in prison hiding the secret of an omega they just met had to be dangerous. Seeing the man so blatantly ignore the law, confident in his ability to avoid punishment, made Will damp between his legs.
Will huffed, tired of independence, of being vulnerable, of having to think so much. He wanted a real alpha, a strong alpha, a dominant, dangerous alpha.
An alpha like Hannibal.
Will’s mouth curled into a smile. He knew how Hannibal watched him, he knew the man was interested. It wouldn’t be too difficult to bate him a little, to spur him towards what Will wanted. A dangerous alpha so willing to flaunt the law would do anything to protect their omega.
A plan began to build in Will’s mind as he stood up. He pushed the couch aside, pulling up a loose floorboard to reveal his stash of suppressants. Both cycle and hormone pills along with copious amounts of scent neutralizer spray.
Will took his nightly hormone suppressant, but took his bottle of cycle suppressant pills into the bathroom. He poured them down the toilet, watching the small gray capsules disappear.
Now, he had a time limit.
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“When you shot Eldon Stammets, who did you see?”
“I didn’t see Hobbs.”
“Then it’s not Hobbs’ ghost that haunts you, is it? It’s the inevitability of there being a man so bad that killing him felt good.”
“Killing Hobbs felt just.”
“Which is why you’re here. To prove that the spring of zest you feel is from saving Abigail not killing her dad.”
“I didn’t feel a sprig of zest when I shot Eldon Stammets.”
Hannibal watched as Will shuttered, curling inwards. The man had come into Hannibal’s office, into his domain, hunched and small. He’d sat in his regular chair, attempting to take up as little space as possible. Nervousness and tension held his muscles rigid. His eyes had been glued downwards the entire season. Will’s omega instincts left him shell shocked and unable to meet Hannibal’s gaze
It caused a visceral displeasure in Hannibal that Will was not comforted in his domain. His scent, his presence should put will at ease. Hannibal would protect Will, deal with all of his fears and worries.
Will continued, voice shaking, “I felt terrified. He also had a gun and he…” Will trailed off, sniffling. Hannibal stood up, stilling himself against the twinge of protective fury that filled him.
“I was not informed he brought a gun to the hospital.”
“I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want the trouble.” Will said, eyes married to the area between Hannibal’s feet. “He threatened to shoot me in the leg so he could take me and bury me.”
“I thought he was there for Abigail.”
“He did, but after he saw me…” Will paused, gathering his words, “after he smelled me, he said he wanted to use me instead.”
Hannibal gripped the arm of his chair, knuckles white. Will didn’t know that Hannibal knew of his omega status, and Hannibal knew how much effort Will put into hiding his identity. To hear him say something that could be such an obvious give away meant he was truly shaken.
He stood, striding towards the omega, and then carded a hand through his hair. Will looked upwards with the movement, revealing eyes heavy with diamond-like tears. “Hush, dear Will. Stammets is in prison now, he cannot harm you.”
“But…” Will trailed off, eyes glancing downwards, burning holes into the doctor’s belt.
“But nothing, you shot him and would do it again if he came for you. Moreover, if he happened to escape or threaten you again, I would be by your side in a moment.”
“Really?”
“Of course, in fact, if it would put you at ease, you may sleep at my home for the night.”
Will shook his head, being sure to move slow enough that Hannibal’s hand could stay tangled in his curls. “No, I can’t intrude. I just need to be rational. I’ve dealt with killers on my own before, I’ll be okay.”
Hannibal pressed his lips closed tight to prevent himself from saying something he may regret. He wanted to pick up Will, to hold him, to take him to Hannibal’s bedroom, and to keep him there forever. It made his soul ache to imagine Will, alone in the world for so long that he would deny himself the comfort he so obviously needed. Yet, were he to insist, he would be unable to let Will leave.
“I’ve got to go, doctor, but thank you for everything.” Will stood, pulling his jacket tight around himself.
“If you feel unsafe at all, call me, Will, no matter what time it is.”
Will smiled, small and delicate, “Thank you.”
------
Will’s face was illuminated by the laptop sitting on his lap. He was dialing information into the site in front of him, thinking of his therapy session. He’d only half paid attention to the conversation, more enraptured with taking mental notes.
How Hannibal’s slacks moved as he walked to follow Will, how the fabric distorted when he placed his hands in his pockets, how it bulged when the man sat down. The alpha had been eating out of Will’s palm as he spun a lie about Stammets threatening him. Will sighed whitfully, thinking of the thick alpha musk tinged with violent anger. It had nearly killed him to deny Hannibal’s offer of hospitality, to sleep under the roof of his alpha, but giving Hannibal a hint of vulnerability now while denying his attempts to comfort and assuage his alpha instincts, would only serve to rile him further.
Will clicked on the box labeled ‘girth’. He considered it for a moment and then typed in six inches, before backspacing and typing in seven point five inches. He’d been able to estimate the good doctor’s length and knot placement relatively easily, but he was stuck on the thickness. Nonetheless, he kept on. He was well acquainted with KustomKnott.com, as he was a frequent customer. His first purchase after getting his job at the FBI was from KustomKnotts.
Well, his actual first purchase was a pack of donuts from a gas station, but his first purchase of any consequence was from KustomKnotts.
Warmth spread across his face as he remembered his first heat. He’d been nineteen and in his second semester of college, and in his desperation he’d fucked himself with one of his roommate’s ice cold cans of beer. The same roommate who had used a pair of pliers to grab the edge of the can and pull it out of him after it had gotten stuck. The girth filled him, and the temperature cooled his core, but the can was far too short to scratch the itch in Will’s soul.
He couldn’t make eye contact with his roommate for the rest of the year. Will thanked the strength of the suppresses he was on at the time. They reigned in his instincts and his hormones to the point where his roommate just assumed he was a weird beta who went a bit nymphomaniac every two months or so.
It was because of this awful experience that Will ordered three custom made dildos as soon as he could.
Will clicked on the preview and nearly began to salivate. The cock was beautiful, thick and long, with an uncut head and a bulbous knot even when uninflated. While it was a good approximation, Will couldn’t wait to see the doctor’s real dick.
Nonetheless, Will would need something in the interim. He quickly clicked ‘order now’, punched in his address, selected ‘discreet packaging’ and ‘express shipping’.
Heat spiked through Will’s gut, wetness saturating his underwear. He tabbed back to the preview image of his new dildo and set his laptop on his bedside table. He shoved down his boxers until they hung off on ankle and began to swirl two fingers around his hole.
Slick coated his fingertips as his hole to began to weep under even the slightest pressure. Will had been on cycle suppressants for so long that his pre-heat was sure to be drawn out and intense. He’d felt his libido spike almost immediately after stopping. Other symptoms had set in just as fast. Weakness of limbs, a slowly climbing fever, a clouded mind, all things Will would normally detest he now revealed in. His body’s weakness would be answered soon. He couldn’t think of a better way to draw in an overprotective alpha than his own biology crying out to be cared for as he pushed two fingers into his hole.
He scissored himself, then forced a third finger into his ass. Will rolled over onto his stomach and inserted his pinky finger as well. He thrust in and out, spreading his hand for the sweet burn of stretching. His eyes fluttered closed as he imagined the fingers spreading him weren't his own, but were that of his doctor’s thick digits.
Will moaned, arching his back and pushing upwards onto his knees. With his ass in the air, slick bubbled around his fingers and dripped down his thighs. His cock bumped against his stomach, hanging heavy between his legs.
No matter how fast he moved his hand back and forth, it wasn’t enough. He considered getting up to retrieve one of his plastic cocks, but couldn't bring himself to break his fantasy. Instead, he stared at the 3D model of Hannibal’s cock, and pushed his thumb into his sloppy hole.
He made a fist and plunged as deep as he could at the angle. A moan bubbled up from his lips and sweat beaded across his forehead. The pleasure was nearly all consuming, his ass stretched around his full fist then clenched tight around his thin wrist. He squirmed, both delighting and resenting the lack of friction on his neglected cock. The bone of his wrist pressed against his prostate, creating a delicious sensation.
Will shoved his face deeper into his mattress, arched his ass higher and gripped his cock with one hand. He squeezed roughly, dragging his fingernails across the sensitive underside. He nearly came until he quickly grabbed and held the base of his dick. Will wanted to cum from his ass alone, cumming untouched always felt so much better. He used his other hand to gather slick that had spilled down his thighs and shoved two fingers alongside his fist. He located his prostate and jabbed it, sending sparks up his spine.
Will’s face screwed up as he whimpered. He came with such force cum reached from his stomach to his neck. He slumped forward, gently pulling his hands out of himself. Will’s body collapsed against the mattress, slick pouring out of his abused hole. A smile creeped up his face as he thought about how he would ache tomorrow, how difficult it would be to sit down, to drive to work.
He thought, for a moment, that he should get up and wash his hands off. Instead, he tumbled into deep sleep instantly.