Fic: Mother’s Day (Ageplay) 3 & 4
Argh! Sorry, another long break. I actually had posted Chapter 3 to AO3 but forgot to put it here. So here is both chapters. Chapter 1 here. Chapter 2 here. Tagged for @telerafairlyreie and @anislandcalledcalifornia <3 Fic: Mother’s Day 3 & 4 Rating: PG-13 Pairing: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Bedelia Du Maurier Summary: Little Will and Daddy Hannibal have Mama Bedelia over for a Mother’s Day dinner. TW: Non-sexual ageplay, diapers, emotional manipulation, punishment, a bit of self-pleasure at the end ;)
Bedelia sat, quietly eating her dinner when Hannibal returned.
“I apologise, Bedelia. I do not know what has gotten into him.”
She took another sip of wine. How she would play this she wasn’t entirely sure. She knew he had misbehaved, but she didn’t appreciate Hannibal threatening the boy in the way he had.
“Quite alright, Hannibal. He’s a child. He pushes boundaries.”
Hannibal poured more wine and then sat down to finish his meal.
“He has been pushing them more frequently.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. When things are busy or stressful at work, which they most often are, he acts out more than usual. But, I digress and apologise once more, I did not invite you hear to talk about….this.”
“I don’t mind Hannibal. I’m intrigued. I have always been intrigued by you. And by Will.”
Hannibal took another sip of wine, then finished his meal.
“What intrigues you about me? About us?”
Bedelia sat back in her chair. She felt full and warm. The wine was good and it, with the food, settled in her stomach.
“Will obviously needs the release. So do you. It works for you both. Will needs that strong, male presence in his life. I assume he has been alone for a while. Do you know what his father was like?”
“All I know is that he worked as a boat mechanic in the south. And I know that getting information from Will about his parents, even after all these years and all we’ve been through, is like getting blood from a stone.”
“Perhaps you’re not trying hard enough.”
Hannibal’s eyes narrowed, very slightly.
“What do you suggest, Dr DuMaurier?”
“Maybe try play therapy. Talk to him as little Will. When his defences are down, he may reveal more than he would normally.”
“Will is very smart, whether he is little or big. He won’t rise to the bait.”
Bedelia shrugged. She finished her wine and Hannibal poured her another glass. She didn’t protest.
“What about his mother?”
“He never knew her.”
That piqued Bedelia’s interest, though she tried not to show it. Hannibal sensed the shift in the air and smiled.
“This interests you, Bedelia?”
She shrugged, stayed as nonchalant as possible. She was getting tipsy.
“Let me try?”
“Try what?”
Bedelia stood, with glass in hand.
“Try with Will.”
Hannibal stood also, towering above her, even though she was wearing her highest heels that night.
“You can try. But only once. And I trust you will be careful.”
She placed her hand on his arm.
“Trust me, Hannibal.”
“I don’t trust anyone, Bedelia.”
“Perhaps we ought to work on you next.”
Hannibal smiled, picked up the plates.
“Can I help, before I go through?”
“No. It is Mother’s Day afterall. I’ll bring dessert through shortly.”
Bedelia nodded and began to leave the dining room.
“Alright. Oh, could I trouble you for a bottle of warm milk? With a slow flow teat, if you have one?”
A pause.
“Very well.”
Hannibal took some plates through and a few moments later returned with the bottle for Will. She smiled and went through to the study, wine in one hand, baby bottle in the other.
Will was still sitting in the chair. Bedelia put her wine and the bottle down on the small table next to the couch and walked over, turning on a few lamps as she went. She spotted Mr Bear sitting nearby on Hannibal’s desk chair, so she grabbed it. She crouched down next to Will and could she he’d been crying.
“Oh my darling little boy.”
Will sniffled and pouted.
“So-sorry for ruining your day, mama.”
“You didn’t ruin my day.”
Bedelia stood and held her hand out for Will to take. He looked up at her.
“It’s alright. I’ve spoken to your daddy. Your punishment is over.”
Will sniffled again and took her hand, standing shakily. Bedelia thumbed his tears away, handed him the stuffed toy which he held tightly to his chest.
“Poor boy. Daddy can be mean, can’t he?”
Will looked over to the door to make sure he wasn’t standing there. He nodded. When Bedelia smiled, he spoke, rushed.
“But only when I’m naughty. And it’s for my own good. That’s what daddy says.”
Bedelia lead him over to the couch and sat him next to her. He eyed the bottle on the table.
“Well he’s right. It is for your own good.”
Will yawned. He brought his thumb to his mouth and chewed on the tip.
Bedelia ran a hand through his hair and he leaned into her touch.
“Poor baby boy. So tired. Would you like some milk before bed?”
He nodded.
“Would you like mama to feed it to you?”
Will swallowed. His mind was screaming. The little part of him said yes, oh yes please! But somewhere, small and ever present, was the rational voice. It was always there. And try as he might, it was never silent. He shifted on the couch, felt the thickness between his legs and under his backside. He looked down at Mr Bear, the softness of his fur under his fingertips.
He nodded.
Bedelia smiled and stood, taking Will’s hand again and picking up the bottle. She walked over to the big, soft armchair by the window, sat down and spread a blanket that was usually draped over the back of the chair, over her lap.
She patted her top of her thighs and pulled Will down. After some adjustment, he curled up as best he could, his legs on one arm of the chair, and his back supported by the other.
Will nestled into her. She smelled so good, so comforting. While getting dressed for the evening, Bedelia had put dabs of lavender oil on her pulse points in lieu of her usual perfume, knowing that it was a relaxing, soothing scent.
Will was apprehensive. Bedelia leaned over him to pull the blanket up to cover him. He caught a glimpse down her blouse and could see the outline of her breast. It was comforting, not arousing.
“There we go. Good boy. Are you comfortable?”
Will nodded and Bedelia reached for the bottle. She tested the milk, putting a few droplets on the back of her hand and licking it off.
Satisfied, she placed the nipple at Will’s lips and he began to suck slowly.
“Good boy. Drink up.”
As Will began to settle into his suckling rhythm, he nestled further into Bedelia’s warmth. She smiled at him, and as she leaned in, a lock of hair felt across her neck.
With his free hand, Will reached up and grabbed it, playing with it, twirling it around and around his fingers as he nursed.
Bedelia’s free arm snaked around, supporting Will’s head. Her hand curled inward and she stroked the side of Will’s face. He made satisfied feeding noises and for a moment, what little maternal instinct that Bedelia thought she had was awakened.
The different teat on the bottle meant that it would take Will much longer to drain. But they were both comfortable.
“Such a good baby. Such a clever, handsome baby.”
A blush rose to Will’s cheeks. He kept playing with her hair, his other arm holding tight to Mr Bear. It was soothing, not just for her. But she knew she had an ulterior motive with this, and stepped away from the role she was surprisingly comfortable in.
“Little Will. My boy Will. Mama loves you, you know that?”
He smiled around the bottle and nodded. His eyelids began to droop. Now was the time.
“Baby boy Will. Did your other mama do this for you?”
A small frown. A tiny shake of the head. Bedelia clicked her tongue with disappointment.
“That’s no good. Why not darling?”
A small shrug. Bedelia pulled the bottle away. He frowned again in protest and opened his eyes. Then he yawned and mumbled sleepily.
“Mama din’t love Will.”
“I’m sure that’s not true, darling. Maybe something happened?”
He shook his head. Bedelia brought the bottle to his lips again and let him drink some more. Meanwhile, Hannibal appeared at the doorway with a glass of wine. Bedelia watched him carefully, imploring him to be quiet. He sat in the darkness on the other side of the room, trying to tamp down the jealousy of seeing his boy being held by another, twirling that lock of blonde hair around and around.
After a few more moments, she tried again.
“Where’d baby Will’s mama go? Hmm?”
She pulled the bottle away. Another frown and a sigh of frustration. Hannibal half-expected Will to get up and age up. But he didn’t.
“She went ‘way. Didn’t love daddy. Didn’t love Will.”
“Did she die?”
“No. Left. Went ‘way.”
“Did you ever see her, Will? Did you ever meet her?”
Her eyes flicked up to Hannibal, his eyes glistening in the dark. He was warning her.
Will shook his head.
“Too little. Will’s too little.”
Bedelia replaced the bottle and Will continued to drink, nearing the end. Bedelia tried one more thing.
“Do you miss her, baby boy?”
Nothing. He kept drinking. But his fingers stopped twirling the hair. He dropped his hand and both clutched the bear. He squeezed his eyes shut and when he opened them, they were wet with tears.
Will looked right into Bedelia’s eyes, and for a moment, the grown man shone through. She would later put it down to the wine, but it was a moment of extreme clarity and closeness with this stranger she held on her lap.
Will nodded once. Twice. He finished the bottle and as soon as Bedelia pulled it away, he replaced the teat with his thumb and closed his eyes.
With her hand now free, she stroked his hair. She had gotten what she wanted, felt triumphant. Will squirmed in her lap, the diaper rustling underneath the blanket.
With a glint in her eye, she moved her hand to Will’s stomach. He had drunk a few glasses of milk and juice before dinner. The bottle was just added to his fullness. She lifted his shirt and ran her hand over Will’s bare stomach. It was smooth and warm. He squirmed again.
Bedelia saw Hannibal move to get up from his chair, but she shook her head. She applied pressure to Will’s lower stomach and a small whine came from behind his thumb.
“Ssshh….just let go baby boy. It’s alright.”
She kept rubbing. Will was half asleep but he didn’t want to wet himself. Not here. But he was so relaxed, and the pressure was building.
Bedelia pressed again and Will sighed, giving in and flooding the diaper. It grew warm and heavy between his legs. He gave a small whimper.
“’m sorry mama.”
“Shhh. It’s alright my darling. Nothing to be sorry about.”
She leant forward and kissed him on the forehead. She could feel the heat beneath her lips.
Hannibal stood, angry that Will had been manipulated. He walked over and stood above them. He held his hand out to Will.
“Come Will, let’s get you changed.”
Will climbed off Bedelia’s lap clumsily. She stood too and stroked the side of his face.
“I’ll see myself out, Hannibal. Good night darling boy.”
“’night mama. Love you.”
Bedelia gave a little smirk of victory, her eyes flicking up to Hannibal’s face as she picked up her purse and watched as Hannibal, with little Will in tow, left the room.
4/?
Usually Hannibal would not allow anyone to leave without dessert, however this was not an ordinary night. He led Will upstairs, still sucking his thumb and clutching Mr Bear under his arm.
He stayed silent as he took Will into the master bathroom, and began to fill the tub with warm water and a cap full of baby bath oil. He took off the diaper and it fell to the floor with a wet, thick thud. Will blushed. Hannibal placed Mr Bear on the countertop.
“Sorry daddy.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, Will. You had an accident. It happens.”
Hannibal helped Will climb into the tub. He removed his thumb and cleared his throat.
“I am sorry, Hannibal.”
Hannibal rolled up his sleeves and took a washcloth, running it over Will’s body. He sighed.
“You were jealous, weren’t you?
His eyes snapped up to meet Will’s.
“Jealousy is an ugly emotion, Will.”
Will shrugged. He’d aged up, but allowed Hannibal to wash him.
“But it’s human. And I think it would be alright to be jealous.”
He washed Will in silence, held his arms for him as he ran the cloth up and down. He was gentle but firm. Hannibal drained the bath and helped Will out, handing him a towel.
“I’ll fetch you some clothes.”
Will walked over to the counter to look at his face in the mirror. He ran a hand over his jaw. His stomach rumbled.
Hannibal returned with some sweat pants and a Henley top, and a pair of briefs.
“I’ll let you get changed. I might as well begin cleaning up downstairs.”
“I’ll be down in a sec to help.”
Will got dressed, then went down to the dining room. He noticed that the gift little Will had gotten Bedelia was gone, and he carried the remaining plates through to the kitchen.
Will’s stomach rumbled again, and Hannibal looked over at him as he scraped the contents of little Will’s plate into the bin, the duck now cold and congealed.
“Shall I make you some dinner? You must be hungry, all you had was salad.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Will went over to the fridge and grabbed a beer.
“You want a beer, Hannibal?”
“Alright.”
He opened both and handed one to Hannibal, before seating himself at the bench. The kitchen was mostly clean and he watched Hannibal get ingredients together for a grilled cheese sandwich.
Will watched Hannibal move about the kitchen, slicing the bread, putting it away, slicing the cheese, putting that away. He felt comfortable and warm.
“You never talk about your mother, Will.”
He took a swig of beer and shrugged.
“Nothing to tell, really.”
“You seemed to have plenty to tell Dr Du Maurier.”
Will sighed.
“That was little Will. It wasn’t me.”
Hannibal cast a look at him. Will frowned.
“I don’t plan what I say when I’m in that mindframe, Hannibal. It just happens.”
“I’ve asked you plenty of times about your childhood, in therapy and out. And nothing.”
“I’m not going to apologise for what happened tonight. I’m not blaming her. Or you. But you know she’s manipulative. She likes to play games.”
Hannibal turned the grilled cheese over in the pan. It seared and sizzled. He was jealous, seeing Will held by another, being cared for and coddled. He wasn’t given to feelings of jealousy often, but when it came to Will, he was beginning to learn all bets were off.
Then, quietly. Resigned almost.
“I know.”
Hannibal put the sandwich on a plate and placed it in front of Will.
“Thanks.”
As he ate, Hannibal continued to clean the kitchen. By the time he was done, Will was finished eating. He yawned.
“Let’s go to bed?”
One nod, and they went upstairs.
…
After the tooth brushing and pyjama changing was done, they climbed into bed. It was spring, but there was still a chill in the air. Both men lay silent in the dark, not touching, on their own side of the bed.
Hannibal was still awake, Will could tell.
“It’s not easy, you know.”
Hannibal shifted, turned towards Will.
“What’s not easy?”
“Remembering my mother. Remembering what she did.”
He stayed quiet, hoping he would continue, unprompted. More silence but no sleep. In the dim light of the bedroom, Hannibal could see the outline of Will’s profile. Then a quiet voice, an octave above a whisper.
“It’s embarrassing.”
Hannibal reached a hand over and placed it on Will’s chest, resting it gently above his heart.
“What is?”
“She left. I wasn’t enough for her.”
He let the words hang heavy in the room. Will’s hand came up to rest on top of Hannibal’s. He wouldn’t cry. He’d been through all manner of emotions when it came to his mother’s departure - in his teenage years, when he became a young man. He’d been through it all.
“People have their reasons for leaving Will.”
“Do they?”
“Perhaps she was sick? Perhaps it was better than the alternative?”
Will shook his head and ran a hand over his face.
“No. She wasn’t sick. But she had her reasons.”
Silence. Hannibal didn’t want to move. He silently willed Will on.
“I was an accident. Unwanted. She was never the maternal type, according to my Dad. And he was just a poor boat mechanic from the boondocks. She wanted more.”
Hannibal let out a small sigh. He was not prone to empathy, but he felt Will’s pain, deep in his chest.
“She left as soon as she could. The guilt kept her longer than he expected. Last I heard she lived somewhere out west, new husband, big house. She got what she wanted.”
“So, there you have it. You have my history. My connection with women is sometimes…frayed. I don’t want to blame the untimely departure of the woman who gave birth to me but…”
Hannibal slid his hand up Will’s chest, across his throat and up to his cheek. He caressed it, stroked it.
“I’m sorry Will.”
Will shrugged. He was glad Hannibal couldn’t see the sadness he knew was etched on his face.
“’s okay.”
But it wasn’t. After a minute, Will sighed and rolled over towards Hannibal, burying his face into his chest. He nuzzled it, scrubbing his face on the soft material of his pyjama top.
Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will, held him tight. He hoped to suck some of the sadness out and carry it in his own chest.
He rubbed Will’s back while he continued to nuzzle and sigh, trying to get comfortable. Will was practically on top of Hannibal when he gave one last sigh, one hand clutching Hannibal’s shirt, the other creeping up towards his mouth.
“’nigh-nigh daddy.”
Hannibal sensed in the dark that Will began to suck his thumb. He kissed the top of his soft curls.
“Goodnight my darling boy. I love you.”
Epilogue:
Bedelia had a sly little smile on her face the entire way home. She was heady with the power. Almost drunk on the power of manipulation.
When she arrived home, she went straight to her bedroom, undressed, then took a long, luxurious bath.
She ran her hands across her body, across her breasts. She imagined little Will nuzzling them, perhaps suckling on them. She felt arousal deep in the pit of her stomach.
After a few moments of pleasure, bottom lip bitten between teeth, she drained the tub and dried herself off. Her routine was face cream, body cream and then powder. A silk robe that swished as she walked.
Retrieving her phone from her handbag, her fingers brushed the gift Will had given her earlier in the night. She unwrapped it and smiled again.
It was a small drawing, about the size of a postcard, in a popsicle stick frame. It showed three stick figures, all smiling, a man and a woman on either side of a smaller figure in the middle which must have been Will.
On the back was written in crayon, in large, childish letters ‘Happy Mommy’s Day. I love you. Love, Will.’
Bedelia smiled, walked to her study down the hall. She found the file marked ‘Will Graham’ in her cabinet and added it to the other bits and pieces she had collected about this remarkable man.
When she got back to her room, she sent a text message to Hannibal, knowing there would be no immediate reply.
Thank you to you and little Will for a lovely night. I hope you got what you wanted from the evening. If not, we can always try again next time. ;)
