Chapter Text
The sounds of nature seemed to be amplified the further out a person nestled themself in it. It was as if the air itself had its own tune; breathing life into every branch and speck of dirt. The city sat far on the horizon, long forgotten, its business was miles away. Out here, nature created life of its own. A life some would never imagine, a life that others would never experience. For a man who had so little pleasure in his life, nature was the one consistent fondness. A passion. Will Graham was keen on so few things, his enjoyment for fishing above most other hobbies. He had his dogs, his only reliable companions during times of crisis, and his fishing gear. It was something he tried to tempt others into, though few hardly bit.
Naivety would be believing that this was nothing more than a fishing trip. However Abigail was far from naive, well versed in the subtleties of things. She knew very well that Hannibal had discussed their ‘unofficial talk’ with Will, a bit difficult to avoid she supposed. The two were very comfortable in each other’s skins, personal and intimate details exchanged freely. Like a couple without the title or label. She knew they were impossibly inseparable, which explained the attraction to both of them. However she was embarrassed to have her sex life talked about so casually over breakfast like it was nothing. An exaggeration, she had no clue when or how they brought up the subject. Those eyes are what gave it away, the quick glances and lingering gazes. How Will’s eyes followed her lips, the way his stare lingered a bit too long on her figure. Undressing her mentally, picking her apart like he does with crime scenes. She imagined he ran through the scenarios in his head, wondering if he figured out the nitty-gritty details. What position Hannibal had her in, what she said, how they did it. She might find out, or she would be left to keep guessing.
A barking voice called out, her monologue of thoughts interrupted. Abigail’s boots squelched as she shifted, the mud threatening to consume her whole. She glanced at Will who was already stood in the river, the rushing water splashing against his thighs. His hand was extended to her, the other preoccupied with the gear.
‘Come on, I’ll keep you steady.’ His voice soft and reassuring, genuine in that regard. Hand still being offered in her direction.
“Is it cold?” Her face scrunched up at the thought, it sounded horrible. Her mind briefly wandered off with the idea freezing to death with one of the most mentally unstable men she’s ever met. Would he care if she died right then and there? Who knows.
‘A bit but I’ll hold you.’
Abigail took his hand in her own, their fingers delicately threaded together. He helped guide her to where he stood, his body acting as a makeshift cushion should she fall suddenly or topple over. The water level much higher on her than it was him. Its icy chill taking over, her legs clenched together to preserve some warmth and dignity. She shivered like a chihuahua, not quite accustomed to the dramatic temperature drop like Will was.
‘I’ll show you how to cast while you warm up.’ His hands slid over her own, manipulating her to stand and pose as needed. He was certainly talking, but she wasn’t retaining much of what was presented. Rather she was awfully distracted by several other things, including the warmth of his breath against her neck. She could practically taste the coffee that lingered on his tongue. It was distracting in the way that each subtle shift caused their bodies to frot together, even unintentionally it caused her mind to wander off. Had she always been this perverted?
Will thought nothing of her silent compliance at first, simply rambling about how to safely cast the line without hooking yourself or other’s. Then he noticed that he was the only one moving about, and Abigail was just being dragged with him lifelessly.
‘Abigail?’
“Hm?” She replied after a brief moment, forcing herself to focus back on the reality before her. Abigail’s face twisted into something of confusion and mild embarrassment. Though she wondered if the water had something to do with the flush of her cheeks.
‘Lost in thought there?’ His tone was teasing, not completely missed on Abigail’s part. It was different from the way Hannibal teased, almost condescending. Too knowing, too full of himself.
Those silky blues rolled at his words, oozing annoyance and a bit of attitude. Their back and forth had always been push and pull, this was no different.
‘No need for all of that, Hannibal told me everything that’s been on your mind.’ Will said bluntly, meeting Abigail’s gaze. She turned to face him, their chests pressed together. Her finger jabbed at him accusingly, not that much could be felt through the fishing vest he wore.
“So it’s been on your mind too then.” She shot back, though her bark would not spare her from Will Graham’s bite.
Something inside him snapped, akin to a hunter stepping on a branch before their final shot. Compulsion? Maybe. Rational? Certainly not. Abigail could see the way his look shifted, something darker than Will himself had taken the front seat. Those violent thoughts that were too often locked away, she brought out the worst of them in an instant.
His rough hand grasped a handful of those glossy brunette locks, the fishing gear now discarded along the edge of the river. Without second thought, the hand plunged Abigail’s head beneath the water’s surface. The other applying pressure to the junction between her shoulders. Effectively locking her in place with no chance for escape. She was held there firmly as bubbles quickly rose to the surface. Her screams went unheard, the rush of the river silencing the desperation. Even if she could scream, there was no civilization for miles. They were alone, surrounded only by the woods. Her hands clawed at Will’s thighs frantically, a plead for the air her lungs desperately craved.
After a moment, the same violent hand brought her back from beneath the water. Abigail coughed and sputtered; her eyes reddened, throat hoarse, and now completely soaked from head to toe. Before she could even speak she gagged, vomiting up some of the water she swallowed. Will wiped some of the spit away with his hand, seemingly unbothered by the filth of it all. Drool stuck to her chin, wet eyes staring into Will’s. He looked pleased with himself, smug about his new cruel and unusual punishment.
‘Care to try that again?’ He said calmly, voice laced with the same gentleness from before. Acting innocently, as if he hadn’t just attempted to drown her. She heaved, words trying to form but they weren’t quite there. Rational thoughts had already left her brain, the momentary lack of oxygen leaving her lightheaded and dizzy. It was incredibly similar to what she felt with Hannibal, but much more dangerous. Something about it thrilled her, that someone would willingly do bad things to her. Maybe the trauma caused more damage than they suspected, or maybe Abigail was really never a good person to begin with.
For all the heaving and gasping, one thing had became apparent. Will was very into this depravity; the look of lust in his eyes coupled with the way his cock strained painfully against his pants. Her splashing had soaked them both, making his excitement much more obvious. Seemed that he loved to have a little doe-eyed victim, and she was still keen on playing that part. Something was equally wrong with her, and yet she wouldn’t fight it.
“Do whatever you want to me.” Abigail managed, her drool slick lips tempting him into debauchery.
‘Want me to have a good story to tell Dr. Lecter? Or should I call him Daddy.’ He taunted, his hands now making quirk work of her clothing. Any article that was in his way ended up tossed toward the edge of the river, he could buy something new later if it came down to it.
Sunlight kissed every inch of pale freckled skin, making the chilling bite of the river a bit more bearable. Abigail shivered, still wondering where Will’s mind had wandered off to. He stripped himself of his own gear, leveling the playing field between them. Their bodies were scarred and unique in such artistic manners. Everything by design, as intended by the fates of the world. Bullet wounds, surgical scars, and many things alike. Cut from the same cloth if you will. Life had left them battered, yet the bareness in the moment felt befitting. Nature never judged, and embraced the natural form with open arms.
His hand pushed back the wet strands of hair that clung to her forehead, thumbing gently at the droplets that threatened to spill into those doeish eyes.
‘How long can you hold your breath?’ Came the question, an interesting one at that.
“I don’t know, never thought about it.” She answered matter of factly, the duration is not often something that you have to keep track of.
For a moment Abigail wondered if Will might attempt to drown her again, but that was not quite the case.
‘I think you need to learn to use that mouth for more than just attitude.’ Came the husky whisper, gesturing to beneath the water’s surface. His cock barely peered from beneath it now, they had waded into less shallow parts.
She looked quite perplexed for a moment, the logistics of such seemed to be beyond what she could imagine. However arguing was utterly pointless, she knew exactly what he was capable of.
‘I’m not crude, you can come up for air when you need it.’ He assured, which was part truth just not the whole of it.
With a deep breath, cheeks puffed out cartoonishly, Abigail squeezed her eyes shut before plunging herself into the chilled depths that called for her. Her knees scrapped against the rubble and rock of the river, but the pain hardly bothered her. She opened her eyes, wading closer to Will. His cock stood upright, almost intimidatingly so, seemed the cold had not bothered him. For a moment she pondered how to approach it but figured trying was better than simply doing nothing.
With an open mouth came a swell of river water, not exactly welcomed or wanted. She still however wrapped her mouth around Will, ignoring that the water was making the task before her that much more difficult. Abigail had no idea what she was doing, but her tongue lapped at him cautiously. That seemed to be the correct answer, as it caused him to twitch in response. She continued to lick and bob her head curiously until her chest burned in that too familiar way. The burn was similar to when Will attempted to drown her, she could not hold her breath for much longer without passing out. Her head popped out of the water, wet coughs and sputters escaping those pretty pink lips. Drool and spit mixed with the water as she cleared her throat, attempting to breathe deeply. She looked up, her vision blurred from keeping her eyes open down there. Poor girl could hardly see, think, or feel much of anything. Though she would be lying if she said it hadn’t aroused her. Something about that thrill of danger, taboos, and corruption. Yet again her father figures had made a monster of her, or had she already been one.
‘You can do better than that Abby.’ Will cooed, his thumb lightly tracing over her bottom lip. She whimpered pitifully, afraid of protesting but lacking the confidence to continue. He decided to show mercy on the poor girl, not wanting their time together to be soiled. Her desires mattered as much as his own, after all her wandering thoughts kickstarted this whole thing.
‘Come on’, with one arm Will hoisted her up and out of the water. They wadded out of the river’s current to the outskirts, where it was far shallower and much calmer. Not ideal for any fishing, but more comfortable for their new activity. All thought of catching and casting has been long since abandoned. Truth be told- Will knew it would not have lasted long regardless.
Abigail dropped down on her knees once again, each rock and bit of rubble would surely cause bruises. Beautifully decorated like a picture, splotched with multiples of purples and reds. Her hand took a hold of Will’s cock, puffy lips placing wet kisses on the head. The saltiness of his precum had mixed with the earthy taste of the river, she was intrigued. Curiosity would surely be the death of her. His breathy groans encouraged her to make another attempt at pleasuring him, confident that she could learn quickly. Trying was succeeding or something of that sort, Hannibal was well versed in those sorts of quotes. She took him into her mouth again, though with much more grace this time around. That pesky river would not best her! Her tongue worked as it had before, though this time she was able to swallow him down without choking on water. Even with the agonizingly slow rythme, there was pleasure to be found. He groaned loudly, fingers gently carding through her wet hair. Encouraging her to do what was most comfortable, she would learn well.
When the pace she settled on was not working anymore, after several agonizing minutes, Will took matters into his own hands. Sometimes a more hands on demonstration was best. With a fistful of her hair held tight, he thrusted his hips forward. He forced himself down her throat, reveling in the way she constricted and convulsed at the intrusion. Startled gags escaped the poor girl, flailing wildly as nausea settled deep in her stomach. It did not discourage him, staying crudely buried in her throat. He only pulled back when spit and bile spilled from her mouth, his cock now slick and slimy.
Abigail heaved and coughed, stomach churning as she spat up the nothingness residing in herself. She looked at Will as if she were a kicked dog, shaking and crying pitifully.
‘Oh Sweetheart, you won’t learn if you don’t try. Don’t you want to be a good girl for your Daddies?’ His voice taunting her, degrading and cruel. She whined, knowing that he was not exaggerating. The words may have been mocking, but they weren’t untrue. Abigail desperately wanted to be good, able to pleasure them both. It was the only way to ensure that neither would seek another. She knew she could be easily disposed of should she not serve any meaningful purposes to either of them.
Instead of fighting, she willingly surrendered herself to him. Body and mind, just as she had with Hannibal. He could take whatever he needed, and she would comply. As that’s what good girls are taught to do, obey and serve.
‘That’s a good girl.’
The emptiness of the forest was quite useful in a moment like this, as Will spent quite some time training Abigail’s throat. The doe would be well versed in giving pleasure, not just receiving it. For every gag, she was punished. For every mess she made, she was forced to lick it up. For every mistake, she was denied pleasure.
After several poorly executed attempts, Abigail was able to swallow Will’s cock without any problems. Each thrust of his was quite brutal, both quick and greedy. Yet she bobbed her head in time without complaint, tonguing at the head to taste him. His hips bruised her face without shame, using her mouth to chase the high he had so desperately been seeking. His head had been filled with such depraved thoughts, and here she was helping act them out. She took him well, wet silky blues looking up at him adoringly. Poor thing, her mind broken but trained. No complaints, only compliance.
Her reward was the taste of his cum on her tongue, which she swallowed obediently. Knowing it was all she would receive for the evening. Misbehavior yielded nothing but punishment, and now she knew better.
A thin trail of saliva connected them still as he pulled away, a gentle hand petting her head adoringly.
‘Let’s head to Dr. Lecter’s shall we? Maybe if you’re good, we’ll let you cum.’ Abigail clung to Will as they walked back to the vehicle. She liked being their obedient daughter.