#polar duncan vizla

[promisingyounglady]

cigarettes after sex. | DV x Reader

PAIRING: Duncan Vizla x Younger!Reader

A/N: I could treat him so good…

The sounds of the clock ticking softly are heard in the background, almost matching to the thumps of Duncan’s heartbeat which you hear as you press your head against his naked chest.

“Does it feel good?”

You say softly, watching as he drags the cigarette from his soft lips you were kissing before.

Duncan simply smiles, leaving his cigarette in the ash tray by his bed, and getting up to put on a pair of pants.

With his back turned, you quickly swipe the cigarette at its last puff, secretly wanting to try it.

You took a drag, the thick smoke filling your lungs and immediately making you cough. You covered your mouth with the back of your hand, despising the taste and foul smell. How did he make them taste so good when you kissed him?

Duncan walks over, watching this unfold at his amusement, before he sits on the edge of the bed. He takes the cancer stick, putting it out fully.

“Don’t touch those. They’re not good for you” he says in a deep voice, putting on a white tee that accentuated his soft abdomen and arm muscles.

You smiled, looking your lover in the eyes. “You’re always smoking them. I want to smoke too” you said timidly, playing with his belt buckle that hands loose on his jeans.

Duncan let’s a hand caress your face, heart warming at the sight of you.

“Later. You have time”

[klien2000]

Juice q ho, bblik ata aq s Mads era q,,,

[dolicekiss]

Sweet Little Lamb

first attempt at this, also requests are open ^_^

PAIRING: Dad's best friend!Duncan x Innocent young!Female reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+ only, minors dni), sort of taboo, age gap (reader is nineteen), rough sex, mention of uncle and usage of the word cunt, hair pulling, choking, subtle manipulation (manipulative Duncan), religious themes, blasphemy mentioned, virgin reader, dirty talk (talkative Duncan), praise and degradation, slight blood, fingering, unprotected sex, sir kink.

SYNOPSIS: Duncan and your father were high school best friends, always getting into trouble and enjoying their youth to the fullest but they soon parted ways — adhering to their own priorities in their adult lives. But when your father runs into Duncan at the store, he invites him home for dinner. Duncan didn't know his high school best friend was married and had such a beautiful daughter, you. As he laid his eyes on you, he began to lose his grip on his moral compass.

Duncan was a mess.

No amount of cigarettes could calm the turmoil that had caused havoc in his mind and his body, all because of the daughter of his high school bestfriend; you.

The more he fought the disgusting thoughts, the more he felt repulsion crawl over him like a spider with its prickly legs, pinching into his skin. He felt sick and like a creep — preying on his best friend's daughter like that, thinking about you in such explicit ways. He'd excused himself from the family, using his unnecessary smoking habit as an excuse to get away from your sickeningly sweet presence.

He needed to calm his mind. He was all over the place, his mind a whirlpool of unwanted explicit thoughts regarding the girl. It wasn't the white dress that you adorned nor that you were a shadow of an angel but how innocent you truly were. Knowing his bestfriend, he was sure he must've kept you concealed from the outer world. Protecting you and forbidding you of the pleasures the outside world had to offer, keeping you safe against the darkness that lurked in the shadows.

But he didn't know he had brought darkness along with him, in the form of his bestfriend to his humble abode.

He let out a sigh of frustration, as he tossed his finished cigarette to the side. Before he flicked open his metal case to retrieve another one, he heard a soft voice interrupt his smoking session. “Uncle Duncan?‘

Oh how much he reveled in the feeling of you addressing to him as an uncle. You weren't related, no. But just the fact that he was older than you and you saw him as an uncle, it was enough to tighten his pants as he wondered just what sick and twisted part of him was clawing out to the surface.

“Yes, dear?” He always responded to you with such sweetness, his voice gruff but his tone soft and sweet. Like he didn't want to scare you away, like he didn't want his voice and tone to be an innuendo to his sick and twisted desires.

You smiled at him.

A fucking replica of the moon you were.

“Time for dinner, it's all set.” You said, hands conjoined behind your back as you stood with a rather shy posture — your demeanor dripping with the innocence that was an indirect invitation to the wolves of the winter.

To come and rip you apart. Limb by limb and piece by piece and oh, a wolf had indeed sniffed its way to your sweet energy, Duncan had found you.

You gestured for him to come inside before disappearing back inside the living room and he groaned in frustration, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair before walking in pursuit of you. You were such a dream, you glowed and he carried darkness that wished to bask in your light. Upon entering, he found the dinner table all set with his bestfriend already situated in the middle. He took a seat and then your mother and you joined as well.

You sat across Duncan.

Your gaze lingering over him now and then and you admitted, he was truly a handsome man. The fact made you flinch internally, as you had been told that finding another man handsome and attractive was a sin that god would never forgive. Your father had often told you to never indulge in boys or men, to never reciprocate their attention or love, to never ever pay them mind.

And you obliged.

You had never felt wanted in your life ever.

There sat a handsome man across you and it did things to you, things foreign to your small mind.

Your gaze found itself focused on how he extended out, his large hand covering the entirety of the glass of water as he drank it. The view did something to you, a weird feeling churning in your stomach. You found it alluring, that he was capable of completely having his way with you.

You shook your head, praying to God in your heart, begging for his forgiveness at the sinful thoughts that had consumed your mind in the presence of a man that was the same age as your father. You lifted your gaze up from the chicken you stabbed with your fork and a silent gasp escaped.

He was staring at you, as he ate the food your mother prepared.

Your heart leaped up into your throat and then you felt something against your leg, through the net material of your long, white dress. It was hard and rough, making you realize it was a shoe.

Duncan's shoe.

You swallowed the nervousness that was building in your throat. This felt wrong, this felt so forbidden but he wasn't touching you, was he? He wasn't directly touching you, it was his boot riding up your leg and then settling between your thighs. It wasn't sinful if he wasn't directly touching you. Your breath got stuck in your throat.

Duncan noticed the flushed reaction you gave and he suppressed the urge to let out a subtle grin. The tip of his boot pressed up against your clothed cunt, putting pressure against the sensitive area. You almost whimpered at the touch — at how repulsive it truly was. Guilt consumed you because you didn't feel gross, no. You felt good, as you parted your thighs open.

All while your parents ate their dinner, enjoying the company of the man that had sick intentions towards their daughter. Your fingers tightened around the fork as he pushed harder, the force causing pain to blossom on your cunt and you ached for more.

The dinner came to an end soon and your father insisted for Duncan to stay over, as a snow storm approached in all its glory and the man eventually gave in. You were told to show Duncan his room and you obliged, leading him upstairs. The vacant room was right besides yours and the moment you both traveled upstairs, all alone in each other's presence in the dimly lit hallway, the tension threatened to explode.

He acted as if he wasn't the cause of your aching cunt, as if he hadn't lured out a desire too sinful out of you. He only silently followed you and you stopped once you reached inside the room. “Here, I hope it is comfortable Uncle—”

You bit back your tongue. Calling him uncle didn't feel so appropriate anymore after your latest encounter with his boot pressed between my thighs. Duncan caught onto that and he leaned down at you, his muscular hand reaching to caress your cheek. His touch was so — gentle and full of tenderness. You didn't back off, when you obviously should've and it left you confused.

Did you crave someone's touch? Yearned for it secretly in your heart where no man could reach?

“Why'd you stop?”

You shook your head, the back of your calves pushed up against the drawer. You felt helpless in his grasp, like a lamb in the clutches of a wolf. “Feels— weird, Mr. Vizla.”

“Mr. Vizla is it now?” His voice had fallen a few octaves lower and you nodded. God, you were so fucking scared but there was excitement, sitting right next to the fear, smiling at it. Taunting it. His thumb swiped over your cheek and you let out a shuddered breath at the touch. The bare minimum but it had you breathless.

You'd never felt a man this close.

You'd never been this close to another man.

“W-What should I call you?” You stuttered, a mess you were. Your fingers conjoined behind your back, pressed into the drawer.

Duncan smiled. “How about sir? Try saying that, pretty girl.”

His compliment sent you over the edge, your mind clouded by the mist of a daze as you looked up at him. His dark, searing gaze incinerated you and your face burned when you made eye contact with him. His aura felt brooding and you couldn't tolerate it any further, feeling its hands choke you. Ridding you of any air left.

“Sir?” You asked, innocently tilting your head to the side.

He nodded and then stepped closer, shrinking the space between you two. “Did it feel good?”

You immediately nodded your head, as shy as you were. The feeling of his boot against your clothed center only increased your desire and curiosity to feel more, your body burning in need that was foreign to you. He leaned down, breath mingling with yours as his large hand dropped down to the curve of your throat. Circling around it, firmly but loose enough to allow you to breathe.

“Come to my room when everyone's asleep, Little lamb.” With that, he released you and walked off towards the bathroom leaving you completely out of breath.

You ran out of his room, into your own and immediately slammed the door shut, locking it. Your body felt different, like it was being burned but without the pain. You pressed your palm against your forehead, checking for a fever but there was nothing yet you felt so flushed. You dropped your frame onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, hoping that God was not witnessing all this. That he was busy with his other creations and not noting down the sin you were about to commit by going into his room at night.

— ♡ —

Night crackled with the storm, its silence snatched from it and swallowed whole by the loud howls of the wind. Your parents had fallen asleep and you tossed and turned underneath the blankets, changed into your little night dress. A satin slip up your mother had bought for you, with a little bow attacthed to its front. Trailing your eyes across the clock, you swallowed.

1 AM.

You ran your tongue over your lips, stomach burning with anticipation and desire as you slowly lifted the blanket off you. You found yourself right in front of his room and then you knocked, lightly, your frail hand shivering from what you were about to do. Just what were you doing? Going into the room of a man twice your age, all alone at night, barely dressed in anything.

Before you could change your mind or think your actions through, the door had opened revealing the man. His bare chest exposed — the body hair littered everywhere in striking contrast to your own body and you stepped inside. He closed the door behind you and then you felt as though you had stepped outside in the cold, bare footed and naked waiting for it to consume you whole.

Duncan walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, thighs expanded and parted as he gestured at you. “Come here.”

His tone reeked of dominance and you felt your knees give up on you. Nervously, you took a step and then another until you were right in between his thighs. His hands reached for your waist, holding the curve of it as he gazed at you.

“This is wrong.” You whispered.

He tilted his head, his hands slowly trailing upwards while he gazed at you. “Is it? Do you feel like you're committing a sin?”

You nodded and inhaled sharply, feeling guilt ridden because of how good his hands felt trailing up and down your sides. Duncan was wearing his glasses and you peeked behind him to find a book laying face down on the bed. He was reading. Was he keeping himself occupied for you?

“No, little lamb.” He reached for your hair with one hand, twisting the strands between his fingers. Caressing them with the pad of his thumb. “How is it a sin when God is all merciful? He understands you, he feels you, doesn't he? He's created you like this.”

His words were heaving down on your mind and you thought for a moment. He was right. You were not feeling this way on purpose, instead it was all coming naturally to you which meant that God had created you like this. In his image, and how could be his image wrong and sinful?

“But its a sin.”

“It is not if you don't tell anyone about it. If no one finds out about this, it'll only be an act buried in the past once its committed.” Duncan pulled you in closer with his one hand on your waist, his thumb caressing your stomach through the satin material. His hand on your hair traveled to your face as he brushed his thumb over your plump, saccharine lips.

“Open up, little lamb.”

And you obeyed, parting your lips in an invitation for him to press his thumb against the flat surface of your wet tongue. You stayed like that, awaiting his next order and command. “Suck now.”

You closed your lips around his thumb, sucking as you moved your head back and forth. Your eyes didn't shut, no. You stared at him all the while sucking on his finger and Duncan’s gaze felt heavy with lust, mimicking your own. He could see he had you, right where he wanted. Just a mindless little girl who couldn't even understand the needs of her own body.

How fucking cute. He thought.

You were so pliant, so sweet and so submissive. He enjoyed every bit of it and he wondered if he'd ever let go of you after defiling you for his own good and pleasure? Duncan pushed his thumb further into your mouth, all the way to the edge and you choked a little. Sputtering and making a mess of saliva on his hand. Tears sprung out and you closed your eyelids, allowing a few to stream down.

He retrieved his thumb from your mouth and looked at you. “Have you ever kissed anyone, hm?”

You could only shake your head. He smiled and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you onto his thigh. He loved how he was about to ruin your innocence, fucking mess you up and bask in the feeling of power over you. It was all too consuming and overwhelming, even for him.

You were perfect.

“Follow my lead, alright?”

You nodded, butterflies flapping their wings in stinging anticipation in your stomach. You felt his lips against yours and it felt, fucking, ecstatic. His lips were so soft, so plump and they felt like cushions against your own. One hand settled over your stomach, expanded palm caressing your flesh while the other slithered upto your hair, entangling in the softness of them.

He tugged and you whined into the kiss.

The vibration of it sending fire straight to his crotch, his own chest rumbling with desire as he kissed you. Gently prying your lips open, he entered your mouth and explored the untouched cavern of innocence with his vile tongue. Like a snake, he enveloped you and brought you deeper into the abyss.

“Sir—” You attempted to break the kiss but he didn't let you, delving deeper into it. His grip tightening on your hair causing you to cry out into the kiss, his tongue battling with yours. It felt so good, you could almost cry from how much pleasure only a mere kiss was giving you.

But Duncan knew there was more. And the more was as rough as he was.

His hands pulled back and then fell to the hem of your dress. “May I?”

You thought, for a single second before nodding your head. He immediately slipped it off you, discarding it to the side and then his gaze took you in. Your full, nude form. Your perky tits, the small bulge of your stomach, the pouch of fat resting there, how clean and unmarked your thighs were. Those little details drove him insane. He lost restraint — brawny hands grabbing at your tits and fondling them as you whimpered softly against him. It all felt too sinful, but too right to you.

Thumbs brushing over and over again against your hardnened peaks, standing erect demanding attention. He stalled for moment and took your small hand, bringing it to the raging boner protruding through the material of his jeans. You immediately gasped, shaking your head as you tried to pull back but he insisted. Grip tightening on your wrist.

“Feel it." He commanded.

You meekly nodded your head and then felt him, your palm pressed against how hard it was. The situation was so gross, so fucking repulsive but it felt amazing. How he toyed with your body, giving you pleasures you never even thought of. He pulled both of your thighs on each side of his lap, exposing your cunt.

Duncan almost growled at how it peeked out, pink and shaven.

He brought his fingers upto her mouth and tapped onto her lips. You were quick to catch the innuendo, parting your lips and sucking onto his digits. When he felt them wet enough, Duncan’s hand fell down and slithered between your thighs. His fingertips brushed against your clit and a loud squeal escaped you.

You quickly clamped your palm down your mouth, staring at him in confusion. It felt so amazing, a jolt of electricity sent through your veins when he brushed against your clit. He did it again but this time you were prepared and then slowly eased a finger into you. Your tightness around his mere finger let him know just how difficult you were gonna be, getting accustomed to his size.

“Sir, no. Hurts, please.” Your hand reached for his wrist, clawing and pushing at it but he didn't budge. He found your resistance adorable as he slid his finger whole and you cried out. Tears streaming down her face at the burning sensation but that was nothing in comparison to what the future held for you.

Duncan lightly tapped your cheek, a subtle slap. “You can take it, sweet lamb. It's one finger, you can't even take this?”

Voice laced with disappointment, he stared at you and you nodded softly, more tears streaming in rivulets. You back was arched and stiff, as he started moving his finger. To distract you from the burning sensation, he closed his lips around your peaked nipple, circling his tongue around it. The overwhelming pleasure sent you into a different world as your little body twitched.

He sucked and sucked, while slipping another finger and you pressed both hands against your mouth to supress your cries. You didn't wish to wake your parents, that was something you didn't want. It could put an end to this sweet pleasure that you desperately chased after.

“Gonna fuck your virgin cunt so good, I'm gonna dumb you down on my cock, little lamb.” He muttered against you wet peak, plunging his fingers in and out of you. You felt your stomach tighten, flipping in scary knots and the feeling was so strong that you could only cry. Hands falling from your mouth, they gripped tightly onto his salt and pepper hair, bunching them up in your fist. You buried your face in his neck and softly cried, the pleasure sending you into the oblivion.

All that at once — it was too much.

Your thighs convulsed, your body twitching and you could feel something coming, its intensity unbearable. “Sir, something's happening. I think I—” With a hot white intensit shooting through your core, you exploded. Your juices coating his fingers, his arm, his chest and more tears followed in pursuit of the trail left behind the old ones.

Your chest heaved up and down, body collapsing on top of his. Lips shuddering, releasing soft little pants as your arousal saturated everything.

His hand ran up and down your back, reassuring you, comforting you. As he slowly lifted you up, he laid you down on the bed and cupped your face. Brushing away the perspired strands of hair from your forehead and unveiling yourself to him. Duncan was going to explode at any minute and he needed to be inside you.

He discarded his own pants along with his briefs and exposed himself to you, his cock standing hard and curved against his stomach. It was too big and your eyes widening in horror gave away that much. Before he could proceed further, you had removed yourself from the bed, barely possessing any strength to stand still.

“It's too big.” You whispered, reaching for the door.

Duncan wasn't having it. You had your pleasure, now it was his turn and he felt entitled to his own orgasm. Before you could make an escape, he took a long stride in your direction and encircled his arms around you, throwing you right across the bed. Your body was still coming down from your orgasm, fear waking up in your eyes.

He fucking loved it. How panicked and scared you appeared, looking at him, realizing he had you trapped. “Be a good girl, little lamb. Let me have my taste of you.”

He crawled on top of you and your chest twisted in fear, eyes focused on his length. It was too much, you knew it but still you wondered, if his fingers could feel this good — just how good could his cock feel inside you?

Duncan parted open your thighs, delivering a little smack to your inner thigh causing you to flinch. “I'm fucking disappointed that you even thought for a single moment that you could escape me.”

His tone was full of annoyance, mixed with anger and heavy from lust. He aligned his tip at your hole, staring down at it like a madman, obsessed and infatuated. “I'm going to claim this pretty virgin cunt of yours and you'll take me like a good little girl, won't you, my dearest?”

You slowly dragged your head up and down, both fists resting at your chest in heavy anticipation. He slightly tapped his hand across your face, subtle but enough to let you know it was meant to be a damn slap. “I need words.”

“Yes sir."

“Good fucking—” he didn't finish his sentence, as he slid himself inside of you. He couldn't even get to feel you as a scream tore itself through your throat and the man quickly pressed his lips against you. Shutting you up, swallowing your screams and whimpers of pain that you so wholeheartedly were ready for the whole world to hear.

Your walls clamped down on him and Duncan felt as though you were gonna cut him in half from the sheer tightness of your pussy around him. He didn't move, breaking the kiss and slowly littering soft kisses all over your face, drinking up your tears. “You can do it, yeah? You're such a strong, beautiful girl.”

His words of affection warmed up your chest and you nodded, wrapping both your arms around his nape for support as you parted your thighs. An enticing invitation despite the throbbing sensation blossoming like a flower in your cunt. You braced yourself as Duncan moved and soon be bottomed out, a promise growl exploding from his chest.

How forbidden it was.

The girl that was barely half his age, calling him her uncle was now underneath him, naked and sweaty as he deflowered her little cunt. His thumb moved over your clit in tender little circles and your back arched off the bed, his cock shifting inside you. It pulsed and throbbed, becoming one with the throbbing of your own cunt.

“You're so pretty, so fucking beautiful. I want to claim your pussy every single day, ruin you to the point you only think about having my cock inside your little cunt.” He was a mess, forehead drenched in perspiration as he moved, his forearms resting on your sides. He pulled out, and you gasped at the loss but then he slammed himself back inside you. This time deeper, filling you up to the brim.

“Tell me, does the God you worship is capable of making you feel this good?” You shook her head, long gone in the wordly pleasures that consumed your mind. All you thought about was Duncan and how good his cock felt inside you. He began moving, snapping his hips and your walls clenched around him in need.

As he pushed — he encouraged a loud whimper out of you. High pitched and evident. Enough proof that he had found that specific sensitive spot and he rammed inside you, pounding you into the mattress. It was a blessing that your parent's room was downstairs, as they rested, oblivious to their daughter getting ruined by a man beyond her own years.

“Please— Duncan, it feels so good. Please keep going, give me more please sir.” You were a mess and hearing you moan his name made him go crazy. His hips picking up their pace, his cock pounding you into oblivion.

He stopped, turned you on your back and started fucking you relentlessly again. His hands reaching for your arms as he picked you up and pressed you flush against his brawny, scarred chest. This new position had more pleasure awaiting at its door and you couldn't even shut your mouth with your hands anymore, as he restrained you. Gripping your arms, fucking into your cunt.

“Such a good cunt.” He groaned, throwing his head back as he moved. “Takin’ me so well, like you were crafted for me. Pretty girl with a pretty cunt.”

His praises were so intoxicating and you were blitzed by now, without zero alcohol in your system. Duncan was fucking you so good, you'd lost all your senses besides ones that helped you in feeling him, hearing him, listening to him. You didn't care about your parents anymore, or God, or anyone. All you cared about getting fucked like some whore by Duncan.

Tears streamed down your face, your stomach once more churning in that sick feeling. Your thighs pressed against his, shivering and flinching everytime he thrusted up your cunt. Your heart was fucking throbbing in your chest, being able to feel its beating in your throat as he continuously bruised that spot of yours. Nearing you to your orgasm.

Duncan growled, right against your ear, leaving bite marks down your ear and nape, branding you. “You're mine, Little lamb. I'll visit your father more often just to fuck his little girl. You'll be ready for me, won't you? Let your uncle fuck you like this everytime he visits?”

You nodded, sobbing and sputtering broken sentences. Your face drenched in tears as you lost yourself in the bliss, body twitching and shaking from how overwhelmed you were. Then you felt him deliver a slap to your spine, grabbing your hair from behind. His rough demeanor sending a rush of need into your core.

“Say it,”

“Y-Yes, Uncle Duncan.” You cried out, your whole body had gone limp by now. The forbidden situation you'd gotten yourself in making you feel sick but instead calling him that name made your cunt tighten around his cock. “Please v-visit more— fuck me more, please sir.”

He felt himself close.

And so did you.

Both of them reached their highs but Duncan wanted her to cum first so his arm extended out, his hand sliding between your thighs to toy with your clit. He pinched and rubbed it, causing you to gasp. Eyes rolling back in pure bliss, your stomach tightening and cunt clenching around him. All hinting towards your upcoming orgasm.

And so you unraveled.

Eyes witnessing white, body ascending to heaven as intensity at its peak crashed down on you. All of it was too much and your body fell forward, face buried in the pillows and sheets to cry out the remnants of your orgasm.

Duncan picked up his face, feeling your juices coat his cock and then he soon reached his orgasm, his cock pumping loads of cum inside your little cunt. Filling you up to the brim, watching as some of it even leaked out and made a mess down on the sheets. He couldn't care less, his chest rumbling from gruff groans and moans. God, the high he felt with you was different — unique. Something he had never felt before.

He stared at you, spine exposed and erect as you laid across him, face buried in the pillows and he leaned down. Still inside you, he left bite marks down the bone of your spine, branding you as his. Claiming you as his forever. He felt something possessive consume him, something dark when he saw how vulnerable you were. He'd fucked you, defiled you, the blood of your virginity coating his cock mixed with your and his release but innocence still wafted off you.

It drove him insane.

Duncan fixed their position, laying next to you as he pulled you to him. You were out of it and he cupped your face, staring at you. A look of worry crossed his features, finding you this numb. “Little lamb, are you alright?”

You looked up at him and nodded. In reality, you were too fucked out. The ache in your cunt hasn't subsided at all and somewhere you craved for more. You leaned into his chest and wrapped your arms around him. “Sir, will you come back for me?”

“I might just kidnap you.”

You perked up at that. “Can I have my freedom then?”

Duncan let out a chuckle, nodding his head at her, aware of her living situation. “You can go anywhere you want, Little lamb. As long as it is with me.”

[texaschainsawmascara]

Mads Mikkelsen, furniture ad

[lecstars]

Mads Mikkelsen as Duncan Vizla in Polar (2019)

" Try not to be scared."

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Duncan Vizla X Reader: Too sweet for me

A/n: Mads has no right looking this hot

Warning: smut, porn with little plot, oral (f receiving) , face sitting, penetration (p in v), fluff, little bit of angst, age gap (not specified) no use of y/n, pet names (dove, darling)

“You must be bored out of your fucking mind.”

That's how you’d picked up his call. No ‘hello’. No ‘how are you?’. Just straight to the point. He supposed he deserved it. It had been his call to end all forms of contact and you hadn’t been too pleased with the decision. He had to admit he was starting to regret it too. The cold was making his miss your warmth and the silence that surrounded him, making him crave your voice.

“I want you to come here.”

“Where? To that fucking cabin in the middle of nowhere?”

You heard Duncan let out a sigh. He sounded tired.

“I miss you.”

Your brows furrowed at his confession. He had ended the relationship. It had been his decision. The reason being that he was too old for you and that the company was going to let him go soon, so there would be no need for you two to be around each other anymore. You’d fought him until you couldn’t take it anymore. Until you realized you were only breaking your own heart. And now here he was, calling you on the second day of his retirement telling you he missed you. The right thing would have been to tell him to fuck of. It's what he deserved for hurting you. But instead you’d hopped into your car and drove over to him.

He heard your car in the driveway, causing him to put down the cup of whiskey he had been nursing. He opened up the door for you watching you stomp your feet on the deck in an attempt to remove the snow from your shoes.

“Its fucking freezing. Of course you had to pick the coldest fucking place to retire.”

“The cold keeps people away.”

“And you just love keeping people away don’t you?”

The comment stung a bit but he brushed it off. He knows your mad at him but you came anyway which means you’re not as pissed as you had been when he first broke it off. You moved into his house shivering as you placed your bag on the ground. He watched you walk over to the chair he had been sitting on. You grabbed his drink off the table before throwing it down your throat. Duncan shut the door before making his way to you. You were glancing around the room, clearly judging the lack of decor.

“This place looks so depressing. No wonder you called.”

“I didn’t call you for a distraction.”

“Oh yeah? So why am I here then.”

He moved closer to you, his frame towering slightly over your smaller one. You looked up at him impatiently, waiting for him to tell you why you’d driven to the end of the world for him. Duncan placed his hand on your cheek. The coldness of his palm made goosebumps appear on your arms.

“I miss you.”

“Should have thought of that before you broke it off, old man.”

“Come on, don't be like that.”

“No fuck you!”

You push him away trying your hardest to ignore how your body craved him. Duncan looks at you with hurt eyes but he doesn’t interrupt.

“I said we could make it work. I told you i’d quit and go with you but you didn’t want that. You had to come with the ‘oh i’m too old for you’ routine. Well guess what Duncan? I didn’t give a fuck about that when we stared going out and i sure as shit don’t care about it now.”

You were moving from one side of the room to the other as you spoke. Duncans eyes followed your movements with an overwhelming need to tug you to him. But he knew you’d only push him away so he decided to let you calm down a bit first. You finally seemed to tire yourself out, your body leaning against his chair as you glanced outside. He moved over to you slowly.

“You know all I wanted was to be with you. And I thought you wanted that too but I guess I was wrong.”

“No, little one, you weren’t.”

You turned to look at him, your face slightly damp from your angry tears. He placed his hand on your cheek once again and this time you leaned into his touch. You closed your eyes as he caressed your cheek.

“I missed you too.”

You let out your confession in a whisper, followed by a small sigh as you felt Duncan press his lips to yours.

“Let me make it up to you, hum?”

“What were you thinking?”

His nose was pressed deliciously against your clit as he ate you out. You had your face pressed up against the cold wall, hands braced on the headboard. Duncans fingers dug into your thighs as he tried to keep you from squirming away. Your pussy was getting sensitive from his movements but you don’t want him to stop. And he didn’t plan to. You’re always worried he might not have enough air with your cunt resting on his face but the way he continuously tugs you down when you try to raise your body off his tells you he can breathe just fine. Unconsciously you rocked your hips against his face searching for your release.

“Oh Duncan…ah fuck.”

“Taste wonderful little one. Want you to cum on my tongue.”

You wanted that very much too but you didn’t know how much more you could take. This was the third orgasm he was trying to pull out of you and your thighs were starting to hurt. You could feel your release coming but something about it felt different this time. More intense in a way. You placed your hands on the sides if Duncan's head trying to remove your body from his.

“Baby something’s… I don’t know whats-”

“Shhh dove let it happen.”

Duncan suspected something was about to happen. He suspected your sudden need to get off him meant you were about to give him what he’d been wanting for a long time but had never manned to get out of you. You were about to squirt all over his face. His dick twitched at the thought. Your moans became more and more high pitched until you were screaming his name. Your hands wove around his hair as your orgasm washed over you. You’d barely had time to register what had happened before you heard Duncan groan beneath you. You looked down at him only to find his face covered in you slick.

“Holy shit.”

“Told you to let it happen.”

“What the fuck was that?”

“You squirted. So good for me, dove.”

“I didn’t even know I could do that.”

You smiled at Duncan causing him to give you a lopsided grin before releasing your legs. You groaned as you removed your legs from him. You laid down beside the older man, your hand moving to his face. Duncan let you tug him into a kiss, moaning into your mouth. You nudged his nose with yours as you moved your hand to palm at his dick. He called out your name in warning.

“What? Don’t wanna fuck me anymore?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then fuck me.”

He rolled over your body, trapping you beneath him. You felt his dick rub against the inside of your thigh before he lined it up with your entrance. You let out a small whimper as he pushed your legs up. Duncan gave a kiss to your temple rocking into you slowly. Your nails dug into his back being careful as to not touch any of his scars. Which was hard considering how many he had but you managed. He sped up his pace hitting your g-spot perfectly as he moved.

“Fuck i missed this pussy.”

“She missed you too.”

“I can tell. Sucking me in-ah fuck- Won’t last long.”

“It’s okay. Just don’t stop.”

Duncans grunts echoed your moans and pretty soon he was asking you where you wanted him to cum.

“Inside-ugh shit- cum inside.”

Two more thrusts and he was painting your walls with his seed. His body sagged onto yours, the exhaustion finally hitting him. You combed your fingers through his hair lulling him to sleep.

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed and the smell of coffee. You grabbed one of Duncan's jumpers not bothering to put on anything else before leaving the room. You made your way to the kitchen. Duncan had his back turned to you far to focused on the eggs he was cooking to notice your presence. You made your way to him, wrapping your arms around his frame.

“Good morning dove.”

“Morning. You cook breakfast now?”

“Thought you might be hungry.”

“You were right.”

You grabbed your mug off the counter taking a sip as you continued to watch Duncan cook. He felt your gaze on him causing him to look over at you.

“What is it?”

“Oh nothing. Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“This feels awfully homey. Waking up to you cooking breakfast. In your little cabin in the middle of nowhere. Wearing your clothes. Got me thinking is all.”

“Come live with me.”

You raise your head to look at his eyes searching for uncertainty in his words.

“You mean it?”

“Why wouldn’t i?”

“Cause you’re too old for me. Cause you like to keep people away.”

“Not you. I never liked keeping you away. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“You really want me to live with you?”

“Yes. I really do.”

You smile at Duncan making your way over to him. He leans down to place a kiss to your lips causing your smile to grow even more.

“Okay then. Let’s do it.”

[hanaozai]

| Some Duncan Vizla love

[sadfishpile]

for duncan stans

[dilfdemolisher]

Me trying to work

My brain: TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY TUMMY

[ihavemanyhusbands]

I Found My Love in Portofino

Duncan Vizla x Assassin!FemReader

Also on AO3

Summary: Despite your promise to stay away, the lure of Portofino -- and who you might find there -- is too irresistible. Part 2 to The Black Kaiser's Nightmare

WC: 5.3k words

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), enemies to lovers speedrun into the bed, semi-public sex, mentions of violence, play fighting, breaking shit all over the place, abundant cursing, rough sex (unprotected, don't do it at home!), angst (but there’s a happy ending dw), I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything!

You are responsible for your own media consumption!

------

Sunshine, a gorgeous view, and the fragrant smell of the sea. What more could you possibly need? 

Some dignity, perhaps.

But maybe you’d lost all of it on the other side of the world almost a year ago, buried under many layers of snow. Along with one too many promises you weren’t certain you could keep.

Then again, you’d desperately wanted a vacation somewhere warm, hadn’t you? And Portofino was beautiful that time of year, undeniably so. It was nearly impossible to resist its allure. 

All you had to do was keep to yourself and not let your eyes wander in search of a familiar silhouette. Eat some amazing food, drink some great wine, and maybe brush up on your Italian. Nothing else. How hard could it be, really?

A few days had already passed with no issues, but at all times, there was the slightest prickle of awareness at the back of your neck. But still, you didn’t search.

At least you were slowly building a nice tan, which was long overdue. You’d spent most of your days at the beach, alternating between dips in the ocean and sprawling out on a towel to air dry. It was as close as you’d gotten to true peace in a long time.

Sometimes, when the waves rolled over you, they felt like a lover’s embrace. Powerful and all-consuming, right on the verge of being agonizing. The familiarity of this feeling and these sudden romantic notions were irritating, but you were always a creature of incandescent want. A fatal flaw, most likely.

When the sun began to set, hunger was the only thing that could pull you away. You’d found a place that you liked, which was perhaps a little too pricey, but the view was unbeatable and the food was definitely worth coming back for. On top of that, you felt like you deserved to spoil yourself at least a little bit.

You sat at your usual table, a salty breeze tussling your hair. A passing waiter smiled and nodded at you, already knowing your order. You smiled back, pushing your sunglasses atop your head. 

The world was awash in golden light, the waves glittering like a dream in which swimmers basked. For a moment, as you stared off into the middle distance, your mind was blissfully blank. Not a worry to ruin things.

But then suddenly…

“Your champagne, signorina,” a voice said as an empty flute was set on the table. “And may I just add… you look ravishing when you are so relaxed. It really does suit you.”

You whipped around immediately, eyes widening and heart thumping like a war drum.

“You!” You hissed through clenched teeth, gripping your dinner knife.

Duncan, disguised as a waiter, smiled at you impishly as he poured the champagne. He was the picture of calm, unbothered by the real threat of another stab from you.

“I know you must’ve missed me terribly, but let’s not make a scene now,” he said easily. “I suppose your busy schedule had an opening after all?”

“I happen to like Italy, if you have to know,” you huffed, grabbing the flute and taking a sip. “I told you I wasn’t going to look for you, and I didn’t. You found me.”

“You made it rather easy, but I let you have a few days.”

You gestured at his attire. “And this is how you chose to approach. Real sneaky of you.”

His grin only broadened. “What can I say? I wanted to serve you.”

Annoyance flared to life inside of you, but it was paired with a familiar feeling that made you tightly cross your legs. You pursed your lips for a moment, but you didn’t really want to give him the satisfaction of seeing he was getting to you. 

Instead, you leaned back in your chair with an equally sly grin and said, “So do it, then. You can only keep me waiting for so long…”

He nodded once, straightening up. “Right away. I’ll be back in a moment.”

As he walked away, your body relaxed and you let out a long exhale. Running a hand down your face in frustration, you chastised yourself again for not steeling your will more in the time you were apart. You glanced over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t watching you and slumped in your chair. 

A few restless minutes passed as you waited, but still he didn’t return. You drummed your fingers on the table as your impatience grew into frustration. Then you figured, this was probably his plan, right? To try and get under your skin as much as possible, make up for lost time. It definitely seemed to be his favorite activity. Or one of them, at least. 

Fuck it. Who said you couldn’t retaliate just a little bit? 

You downed the champagne in one go, perhaps for courage, perhaps just because you needed a reason to justify your recklessness. Standing, you made your way inside under the pretense of going to the restroom. You hadn’t really planned what you were going to do, but still you wandered by the kitchen.

From what you could see, he wasn’t there, which made you frown in confusion. It wasn’t a big establishment, so there weren’t many places where he could be. Half-dejected, you walked into the single-stall bathroom… and immediately the door slammed shut behind you, lock clicking into place. 

Before you could process anything, strong arms enveloped you, pulling you against a solid chest. Duncan put a finger to his lips in a motion for silence, right before he threw himself on you, claiming your mouth. You practically melted against him, any sort of animosity you held forgotten for a moment.

But then, when the shock passed, you kissed him back roughly. You tugged at his hair and bit his bottom lip, letting him retaliate by pressing you against the wall, as if punishing both him and yourself for caving so easily to your desires.

“Already breaking promises, huh?” he said between kisses, chuckling as your hands briskly tried to undo his pants.

“Shut up,” you grumbled. “Or I’m gonna put your mouth to better use this time.”

“That reminds me…”

Abruptly, he gathered you in his arms and set you on the edge of the sink. He kneeled in front of you, reaching past the edge of your sundress and tugging loose the strings of your bikini bottom.

“I did say I would serve you,” he grinned, scooting closer and placing your legs on his shoulders. “Let’s see if you’ll be able to keep quiet now.”

You couldn’t keep your chest from heaving as he fully removed the fabric, tossing it to one side. He kissed his way up your inner thigh, his scruff lightly tickling the sensitive flesh. You suppressed a small shudder, readjusting your position. 

As his tongue dipped directly into the source of your ache — the best way to properly savor you — you held onto his head with one hand and gripped the edge of the sink with the other. He groaned, breath hot against you, and trailed his tongue up to your clit.

He guided himself by your reactions — the small spasms of your muscles, your hitching breaths and the subtle hums of your concealed moans. He barely came up for air, content with the possibility of asphyxiation if it meant he’d never get the taste of you out of his mouth.

The precise, relentless way in which he pleased you nearly drove you to madness. His tongue circled around your clit slowly, almost teasingly, but whenever you were about to voice his frustration, he did the complete opposite to keep you on the edge. You looked down and met his gaze for a moment, fire burning in his eyes. The intensity of it made your pussy clench around his fingers, which he’d just added into the mix.

Your back arched, head resting against the mirror behind you. Your eyes were closed in bliss, knees drawing together around his head as you felt the beginning of an orgasm forming.

“Yes…” you sighed. “Yes! Right there!”

And that was all he needed to hear to ramp up the intensity further. Your body trembled, sweat-slick hand almost slipping off the porcelain. Your spine arched further, as if possessed, and a ragged moan escaped you as you came undone. Pleasure felt electric as it swept over you, and he moaned along with you as he helped you ride it out all the way.

As you were left panting heavily, limbs still shaky, he pulled back to look at you and licked his lips. You brought your legs off his shoulders and he stood in order to undo his pants, the hard imprint of his cock straining against the fabric almost painfully. Once it was free, he spat in his hand and stroked himself to spread the saliva. 

“Get inside me,” you pleaded quietly, urging him closer, eyes still shiny with want. “Please, fuck, I need you inside me.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist this time and he guided himself into you slowly. He muttered your name under his breath as he bottomed out, leaning down to touch his forehead to yours.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the way he seemed to fully envelop you. The heat emanating from him, his smell flooding your nostrils, and even the stretch of him inside you was divine… But you weren’t able to dwell on these thoughts as he began to move. 

His large hands held you up by your hips as he pounded into you, no longer holding back. It seemed he had missed you just as much, and all he could do was make up for lost time. 

He leaned down once more to kiss you as it became harder for you to contain your noises. More of your weight, combined with his, was leaning on the sink by then. As he hit that spot inside you that made your body jerk, you heard a crack.

You tried to ignore it for a moment as his movements turned erratic, grip tightening on your skin. He grunted with each thrust, snapping his hips roughly as you clawed at his shoulders. 

Then his whole body tensed, and he pressed all the way into you in one final thrust. The sound that left him was nearly animalistic as he spilled his release inside of you… and it was at that moment that the sink gave out completely.

The porcelain loudly shattered against the linoleum floor as it broke off the wall. The newly exposed pipe gushed water, the puddle quickly spreading. Duncan caught you in his arms before you could fall as well, stumbling a little as he adjusted his position.

“Shit, that was my bad…” he panted. “I got a little carried away.”

The two of you dissolved into a fit of nervous laughter as the reality of the situation really settled in. Reflexively, you had wrapped your arms around his neck, your faces close together.

You could feel his pulse was just as hurried as yours, both of you still coming down from your highs. You avoided prolonged eye contact as you drew away with an amused grin, smacking his arm.

“Real smooth, breaking shit on your first day on the job,” you said.

He started to laugh, but suddenly, there was loud knocking on the door.  A voice called in Italian to ask if everything was okay, the doorknob jiggling to no avail. You and Duncan looked at each other in a millisecond of panic before hastily starting to re-dress.

“Fuck, we have to get out of here,” you hissed as he helped you onto your feet, holding you for a moment as your legs wobbled. “Can’t we have a reunion where we don’t wreak havoc for once?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head as he buttoned up his pants. “I don’t think it’s possible.”

You rolled your eyes but said nothing, intent on assessing your options. The banging at the door didn’t stop, and you figured soon enough they’d get a key to open it. There was a window that seemed large enough for you to fit through, but you weren’t sure Duncan’s large frame would make the cut.

“One moment please! Everything’s fine!” You yelled back before turning to Duncan and lowering your voice. “I just realized I forgot my stuff out there.”

“I’ll go get it,” he said, ushering you towards the window and handing you your bikini bottoms. “I’ll meet you outside.”

You nodded, appreciative and just slightly flustered at the idea of having to sneak out commando while you were still holding in his… Well, that was probably the least of your worries at that very moment. One thing at a time.

“Try to leave them some money, too. We’ve done enough damage.”

He snorted. “Just wait ‘til we get to the hotel.”

You bit back your retort and instead focused on climbing out of the window without leaving a snail trail. Glancing around to make sure you were alone, you made your way to the front of the restaurant surreptitiously. Twice you had to stop and hide as you neared passerby, still jittery with adrenaline. 

It was a thrill that felt both agonizing and yet somehow very arousing. You waited in a side alley, clamping your thighs together as you leaned against the wall. You just hoped Duncan wouldn’t get himself in deeper shit and take more drastic measures. He wasn’t charming enough to get out of trouble with just words, as you were well aware. 

Finally, he emerged from the restaurant after what seemed like forever, dressed in casual clothes. You lifted your arm so he could see where you were, and he hurried over.

“How did you—” you began to ask, but you were interrupted by him clasping your wrist and dragging you away.

“Don’t ask,” he said. “But just so you know, I did get a couple of high-fives on my way out.”

—————————-

As it turned out, Duncan had been staying at the hotel next to yours. You had to stop to get his luggage first since he’d checked out of his room that morning, already having assumed he’d be staying with you. 

You’d raised your eyebrows and scoffed at his overconfidence. Of course, you should’ve expected something like that to happen, but you’d been too caught up on whether you’d actually run into him or not.

The casualness between you felt strange, particularly given your history. He was definitely more at ease than he’d been a year ago, but uneasiness was like second nature to you. Sure, you were enjoying this new dynamic with him so far, but you weren’t sure how far was too far. 

Fucking was one thing, but being on vacation together… You shook your spiraling thoughts out of your head as you led him through your hotel and up to your room. One thing at a time.

“And what would you have done if I decided not to give you the time of day?” You asked as you swiped the keycard to your room. “Sleep on a bench somewhere?”

“Oh please, haven’t I proven to be irresistible?” He said, tilting his head to the side as he smiled slyly.

“Yeah, well, I’m not covering the hotel costs for both of us, just so you know.”

He scoffed, but you could tell he wasn’t actually offended. “I can pay you with my body, that should be more than enough.”

You bit down an amused grin and said nothing, instead turning on the lights and showing him where he could put his stuff. He set it all down without real care as you began undressing, making him freeze on the spot. 

But you weren’t trying to seduce him, at least not then, for there was only one thing on your mind. Your skin felt sticky with sea salt and sweat, your hair was all tangled by the wind, and there was still that little problem between your legs to take care of. 

“Care to rinse off, then? I know I need to,” you said, casually stepping into the bathroom. “Shower’s got room for two.”

You got in before hearing his response, starting by washing your hair under the stream of hot water. As you were rinsing off the shampoo, eyes closed, you heard him get in. Your other senses were all too aware of his nearness, making you jump a little at an unexpected touch on your hand. 

When you were able to open your eyes again, you saw he was washing himself. The way the soap suds slid down his muscles made you swallow hard, and he was smiling deviously when you moved to let him rinse off. He sighed with contentment at the water’s warmth, slicking his hair back, and you couldn’t help but keep ogling him. 

Maybe he wasn’t so wrong about being irresistible… He really was beautiful.

When he turned around, you quickly averted your gaze and reached for the bar of soap, but he shook his head. “Allow me.”

He lathered some soap between his hands, taking it upon himself to wash your body. He kept eye contact as he started with your shoulders and arms, moving slowly but purposefully. Your limbs were loose as you let him keep going, adjusting you this way and that so he didn’t miss a spot.

Even as he reached more sensitive areas, his touch was tender rather than lascivious. Looking at the scars on each other was like a trip down memory lane, but it wasn’t a bitter remembrance. In fact, you felt yourself softening, almost vulnerable. So much stubbornness, so much time wasted, but it all had somehow led to such an intimate moment.

When he was done, you rewarded him with a soft kiss, more chaste than anything you’d had so far. You shut off the water and both of you got out to dry off quietly. It felt like talking might burst the bubble of… whatever feeling the two of you were so precariously sharing at that moment.

An idea struck you then, and you discarded your towel somewhere along the way. He watched as you opened the sliding doors to the private balcony, the faint light silhouetting you. 

Up there, the faint roar of the ocean could still be heard. It was moonlight’s turn to glitter in the dark waves, but you put your back to the view as you gave him an inviting look. 

Truth be told, you wanted to indulge in him as much as you could. A sense of urgency accompanied your arousal, like the opportunity might not come around again. Was it a sign? Could it be fate’s way of making you say goodbye? 

The thought scared you more than you were willing to admit, so you decided to be mindless once again. You let the sea breeze envelop you once again, but soon after his arms took place, drawing you into his warmth. He searched your face for something, but you averted your gaze as you ran your hands up and down his chest.

“You’re quiet,” he noted. “You haven’t even threatened to kill me at least once since we got here.”

You shrugged, going on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. “Does it matter?”

“Well, you know the violence is what gets me going…” he said with a smirk, but you could still see some concern in his eyes. 

You kissed his bottom lip enticingly, returning the smirk. “Let’s tear each other apart, then. For good this time.”

And so he cupped the back of your head and crushed his lips against yours. The kiss was sloppy and desperate, tongues dragging against each other. You reached between your bodies to touch him, fingers grazing the velvety underside of his hardening cock.

For a moment he lost himself to your touch, mindlessly chasing your lips as you withdrew, teasing him. You stroked the head with the tips of your fingers, and his hips bucked in search of more friction.

“Not gonna be so easy now,” you chastised playfully. “Gotta earn your stay.”

He gripped your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. His free hand roamed up your chest, splaying over your sternum and feeling your quickening heartbeat. He bent down to kiss your neck and collarbones, humming in fiendish delight as he heard your soft moan.

“You little devil,” he murmured. “You should know I won’t make it easy for you either.”

And so commenced a battle for dominance, in which the two of you did not play fair. You practically tackled him back onto the sunbed, frantically trying to pin his arms down. Your thighs pressed against his sides tightly, holding him in place. 

He had a great view of you from that angle, so he got easily distracted, his struggles weakening. But just when you thought you had him, he suddenly grabbed your wrists and managed to flip you under him. You blinked up at him in momentary surprise, but then scoffed.

Your legs and arms wrapped around him as you tried to crush him in a bear hug. You felt his erection pressed against your abdomen, and he grunted with the effort of trying to wriggle from your grasp.

Despite the exertion from wrestling each other, you found yourself smiling, genuinely having a good time. Your cheeks were flushed and you were panting heavily. He kissed all over your face, perhaps in an attempt to distract you, but you gave in amiably for the time being.

“Where’s your knife now?” He murmured against your skin, taunting, his breath close to your ear.

But instead of responding, you pulled his head back by the hair and brought your lips to his. Your other hand rested on his throat, like a silent threat, but it was just a little too tender to actually be one.

The stars wheeled across the sky unnoticed, as the two of you were too wrapped up in a frenzy of desire, all restraints loosened. Eager hands and eager mouths, the violent delicacy of your bodies curled around each other like snakes. Everything else truly ceased to exist.

Not much of the hotel room was spared either, lamps knocked over, framed artwork half shattered on the floor, and different things haphazardly strewn about. At last, the bed became the lion’s den, where the last of the raging fire simmered out, leading into a sated slumber.

You awoke before him, too restless from an influx of dreams you couldn’t make heads or tails of. The early morning had a melancholic blue tint to it, barely illuminating the room. You watched him for a moment, trying to burn him into memory as you followed the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

Keeping your thoughts at bay was becoming harder by the minute, especially wrapped up in his warmth and his smell. Suddenly, you couldn’t bear being in the bed anymore. You left a featherlight kiss on his shoulder before sliding out as quietly as you could. A certain bitterness slid down the back of your throat as you gathered clothes, padding over to the bathroom and dressing mechanically. 

Any sort of logic or reasoning seemed to have left you as well, since you were prepared to flee with just what you were wearing. In that moment, you believed perhaps you could outrun the consequences, and yourself in the process.

But just as you opened the bathroom door and took one step out, you heard the clicking drag of metal and felt the coolness of it closing in around your wrist. You looked down to find yourself handcuffed to Duncan, who was only partially dressed. He looked at you intensely, knowingly even, pinning you in place. Your heart leaped to your throat, stopping any words you might want to say. 

“I told you I wouldn’t make it easy either,” he said, his voice devoid of any humor.

He reached out with his free hand, but you weaved away from it like a skittish stray dog that’d been kicked too many times in its life. Your immediate response was a punch that he took in stride. In fact, he let you try and shove him, although the handcuffs would take you along with him. Your frustration only grew, and this time fighting him was different, more desperate – like a cornered animal.

“When are you going to stop fighting your desires?” He asked firmly, seizing your other wrist. “You can’t just run away this time. You owe me that much.”

“Duncan, please,” you said softly, looking down.

“Please, what?” He pressed.

“Why are we kidding ourselves?” You sighed. “We’re just horny and really fucking lonely…and I guess it helps that we understand each other. But we both know it can’t go beyond that.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t exactly have a profession that allows commitment…” you said, but he only stared, forcing you to continue. “What if they decided to assign us to kill each other?”

“I would gladly fake my death for you.”

You pursed your lips, forcing down the tears that once again crawled up your throat. Damn him and the way he made butterflies flutter around your stomach! 

“But I won’t let it come to that,” he added. “I’ve already decided to retire early.”

You looked up at him in disbelief, eyes wide. “Really? Just like that?”

“Well I’ve wanted out for some time, but you kind of… helped me make up my mind,” he said, searching your eyes to try and solve the riddle of your feelings. 

“And you thought, what? That I would quit too?”

He shook his head. “No. What you do is up to you. All I want is a quiet life, and to settle in one place so you’ll always know where I am.”

“Okay, and what if I have to be gone for a long time? Won’t you get lonely?” You asked, a painful spasm in your chest as you thought about it further. “What if you meet someone else? I mean, hell, I don’t even really know what it is you want with me…”

He frowned, truly unable to fathom your stubbornness. “Are you fucking serious right now? We’re handcuffed together. Do I have to spell it out further?”

Again, you sighed in frustration, closing your eyes for a moment. You hadn’t felt such a strong connection with someone in a long time, especially since you believed you were better off alone. Those you were close to could invariably become collateral, and that was one thing you simply couldn’t stomach.

And when you’d said that you understood each other, that had been the truth. Not many – if anyone at all – that weren’t in the business could understand your lifestyle. The guilt that came in waves, threatening to pull you under. The sleepless nights, the mastery of clinical detachment, the constant need to hide and stay vigilant. It was certainly not easy, but you’d simply gotten used to it over time.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t tired of living that way. Still, you hesitated, feeling yourself toe closer to the edge of the cliff. 

“What if it’s just the excitement?” You asked, opening your eyes once more.

“It’s been years now… if it had died out, so would we,” he sighed, seeming a little aggrieved. “Or what? You don’t believe love and violence intersect?”

“Love!” You gasped, all pretenses shattered now that one of you had finally said that word. “That’s…”

“Is that what scares you most?”

After a moment’s hesitation, where you fidgeted uncomfortably, you shook your head. “I’m barely evenly acquainted with it, but it’s enough for me to know it doesn’t prevent someone from leaving.”

He nodded once in understanding, not having an argument for that. “And you think I’m an expert on it?”

You shrugged, not entirely sure of his romantic history. Still, you could at least tell that it had not been kind to him either. He pulled you closer, lacing his fingers through yours as if the cuffs weren’t enough to keep you.

“Despite it all, haven’t we inevitably found a way back to each other? Sure, the flame that kept drawing us at first might have been hatred, but pettiness could only take us so far…” He straightened so you could appraise him better, gesturing to himself. “I proudly wear the scars you have given me, and I would welcome many more.”

Your vision became blurry all of a sudden, though you couldn’t understand why. At least not until you felt a tear streaming down your cheek, which you wiped away defiantly. He rested his chin atop your head as you leaned against his arm, not looking at him.

“And if you think I will break your heart, what guarantee do I have you won’t break mine first?”

“You don’t,” you admitted honestly, which maybe was the whole point.

“And yet, it is still yours to break.”

You chuckled, but it sounded more like a choked sob. “You’re killing me, old man. What am I to do with so much?”

“You don’t have to carry it all on your own,” he said, bringing his free hand to your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. 

His expression was fully unguarded, like an open book for you to read. There was a vast depth there that seemed to invite you to uncover it, should you actually take the chance. 

And beneath it all, a most desperate hope. One you could recognize, for you had seen it in your own eyes before. It struck you like an arrow, knocking the breath out of you.

One of the deadliest men on Earth utterly undone by one of the most common afflictions — that of the heart. Love.

It was a gift, a real promise beyond what words could express. 

And so, you decided to let yourself fall.

The words left you before you could stop them. “I’m going to retire, too.”

He blinked in surprise, but you barreled on. “It’s not a life I want to keep living. It’s not life at all, really. I was just never really sure if there was anything else for me. But now, nothing is waiting for me out there anymore… I have all I want standing right here next to me.”

Oh, how his eyes brightened at your words. Like the sun rising over the horizon, bringing a new dawn. He wiped your damp cheeks, even if a smile had already spread across your face. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest like a caged bird as he kissed you. It was sweet and unhurried, the culmination of all the yearning and long-repressed desire.

“And what happens now?” You asked softly.

“Anything we want. The world is our oyster,” he said, giving you a pointed look. “You know, there are lots of beautiful chapels around here.”

You scoffed. “Be serious right now!”

“I am being serious.”

You smacked his arm and rolled your eyes, but still felt a swell of giddiness in your chest. “Don’t push your luck, old geezer”

“Can you please come back to bed now? We really should get more sleep,” he said, tugging you along with him.

“Can you at least uncuff us first?”

“No.”

----

[lafinmp3]

Hot n Cold.

[pandalikeelf]

Mads Mikkelsen as Duncan Vizla in Polar (2019) dir. by Jonas Åkerlund

[cvntybal]

i need him in a way that is primally carnal

[dolicekiss]

Hey,

could you please write a yandere Hannibal one-shot, where the reader is one of Bedelia‘s ex patients/friends and Will‘s best friend. Will soon knows Hannibal is interested in her,( after she met him,while dropping of Will for therapy) and tries to ^save^ her from him. However Hannibal again has his way and maybe it ebds with smut?

♡: ohmygod i was literally about to write a yandere nigel but this is even better, especially knowing how manipulative hannibal can be !! also, i hope i do this justice, thanks :D

Famished

PAIRING: Yandere!Hannibal x Gullible, mentally disturbed female reader.

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+ only, minors dni) unprotected sex, manipulative hannibal, oral (female receiving) fingering, yandere hannibal, mention of drugging, mentally disturbed reader and traumatized, taking advantage (hannibal is cooking up plans) slight breeding kink, reader is very gullible <3 that's all

SYNOPSIS: After dropping Will Graham to his therapy session and having a run in with his prominent, renowned psychiatrist — Dr. Hannibal Lecter, you become the object of his infatuation and obsession. It is in his best interests to make you fall for him, make you his. Whether it is by his cunning manipulation tactics or his alluring charms.

For the first time ever, Hannibal Lecter found himself lost and in a puzzled position.

He was at a loss of words for the immense amount of adoration and awe swelling in his chest whenever he laid his eyes on you — which was rare. As you only came by when you had to drop your best friend, Will Graham to his office. It wasn't in your daily routine, as you had other things in life that required your attention but whenever you were available and whenever Will needed your help, you were there.

Because he was there when you needed someone.

Hannibal’s brain was quick to recognize you though, after seeing an old file of yours in Bedelia’s office, with your picture inside. It had all your details and Hannibal felt as if it was meant to be. He'd read your file, in the absence of Bedelia. Completely out of character for even someone like him but he knew you.

He knew all of you.

The exchange of pearly smiles between you and Will when he first introduced you to Hannibal was not very pleasing to the eye for the blonde male. Aggravated but hiding behind the mask of politeness, he only returned those smiles and then watched you leave his office.

That same night, both Hannibal and Will were restless. Will because he had noticed the curiosity awakening in Hannibal’s impassive gaze when he took note of you and Hannibal laid restless because of the uneasiness felt ever since you had left his office. He had this, insatiable urge, he felt —famished.

And only you could satiate that hunger of his.

“Hannibal, you appear lost.” Bedelia commented, the dullness of her office somehow matching his own. The two shared similar tastes, no wonder he was associated with her.

He lifted his gaze up from the red carpet covering the entirety of her floor, fingers tucked understand his chin. He was indeed lost, lost in you. Like an alligator, you had consumed him whole and he slightly twitched in the seat.

Hannibal had a plan.

This was the plan.

“I had a run in with one of Will’s associates, who also used to be your patient.” He responded, bitterly referring to you as his associate instead of his friend because even the idea of that burned him with such envy and jealousy.

Will didn't deserve you.

Not as his friend, not as something else.

Bedelia crossed her leg, staring at him with certain curiosity. “I do not break doctor patient confidentiality.”

“I'm aware.” Hannibal responded as quickly as he could, eyeing the woman. His presence was heavy and his gaze was sharp as an eagle's. Nothing missed him, not even the subtle details and minorities of life.

He noticed everything.

Hannibal laid his hands on his lap, mimicking Bedelia as he crossed his leg over the other but with much more authority. “Why did you stop seeing her?”

Bedilia scoffed. “I didn't stop seeing her, she told me her mind had healed. That she didn't need me anymore, that she was fine.” Her voice was laced with subtle bitterness at how you interrupted their sessions. Bedelia felt like she was being called incompetent indirectly by you.

That was all Hannibal needed.

This time you dropped Will off again but this time, he seemed evidently upset with the idea of you running in with Hannibal Lecter again. It was weird to you, how he acted when it came to you crossing paths with his psychiatrist. Hell, you'd even made a joke about not snatching the handsome doctor away from Will.

But he only responded with a sour face, definitely not impressed with your horrible attempt at a joke.

As he exited the car and headed for his office, you watched him but then your eyes captured a wallet and a phone right where Will was sitting. He'd left his belongings behind. You let out a sigh, contemplating whether to give them to him now or later. You didn't care that your bestfriend acted all sour at the mention of crossing paths with Hannibal.

He was uncomfortable with the idea of you meeting his own psychiatrist, now that was weird. You left the car too, with the items in your hand and headed inside. Air chilly against your skin, you smiled at how its soft hands caressed your skin, prickling it slightly but you basked in the feeling.

As you reached the door, you knocked on it and waited for someone to open it. It was peeled open and there stood Hannibal, and a smile broke when he caught you standing there. Cladded in a long coat, which concealed a casual dress behind it. His gaze took you in, drank you like the most finest wine and then he captured the familiar wallet and phone in your hand.

He'd seen it one too many times in the hand of his patient.

“Here to return his belongings, I assume?”

You nodded your head. “He forgot these.”

Extending out your hand with Will’s things in your hand, the door was pulled open more revealing another figure. Will stared at you, a look of annoyance on his face when he found you standing there. He'd told you, even subtly warned you to not ever come to Hannibal’s office but here you were. Breaking the only rule that he presented before you.

You rolled your eyes at Will, his behavior abnormal and different than usual was something you didn't appreciate at all.

Hannibal took the things from you and then handed them over to Will. “I'll take my leave then, goodbye.”

Just like that, you were out of the towering presence of those two. God, was it only your imagination or did it actually feel suffocating being in their presence together — especially after Will had warned you off basically to not come in front of Hannibal Lecter ever. The way he smiled at you, it was sweet but for some reason, goosebumps woke up on your skin.

You shook your head, went home and after a warm shower, curled up in your bed. An attempt to sleep, for the umpteenth time but everytime you rested your eyes, that same nightmare haunted you once more. Adding a new digit to the list as it did. Reminding you of the darkness that would always stay within you. Rooted inside you.

The blood soaked hands, the screams, the shattering of glass — it replayed over and over again. Like a film that was lagging a lot, hesitating to go forward, so all you could do was rewind and watch that same scene over and over.

You woke up, drenched in sweat. Chest heavy and lungs desperate to drag in as much air as they could. It was all too vivid, like it had happened today and not years before when you were only a little girl.

It wasn't easy living with the fact that you had been spared by your kidnapper while he slaughtered your friend, right before your very gaze. You didn't deem it worth it, didn't find yourself worthy enough to be alive, instead of her.

If he'd only killed you too.

— ♡ —

The next day Will had told you he'd pick you up from your house and take you somewhere, somewhere where he could discuss something important with you. It baffled you when the man pulled up to his own house, the irony of it leaving you with certain uneasiness.

“Will, just tell me. Are you jealous?”

That could be the only reason.

He stayed silent, not answering your question before letting out a sigh of what you assumed to be frustration. He shook his head, fingers scurrying to fix his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Eyebrows furrowed and curls resting against his forehead.

“You need to stay away from Hannibal Lecter. He is a dangerous man, a sadist, a cunning bastard.” You blinked at all the profanities Will Graham was suddenly using to describe his own psychiatrist.

You had no idea of his little plan to play along with Hannibal to catch him so this whole situation was extremely uncomfortable for you.

“You're making that up.” You accused him, with a shake of your hand to dimiss his accusations. “If he was such a cunning bastard, he wouldn't be your psychiatrist.”

“Listen to me.” Will’s voice was dangerously low, frustration obvious in it. “Just do what I'm saying. Don't linger around him, don't even drop me off anymore.”

The water was slowly boiling over your heads and it could spill at any moment. Tension rose in the room and you, with your adamant personality, didn't give in. You wanted— no, you needed to know this. Just what the fuck was going on and why were you being kept in the dark?

It made you feel hopeless and almost sad, because to you it seemed as the only paddle in your life didn't really trust you.

“First, stop hiding shit from me. I'm your fucking bestfriend, Will. Just tell me—”

The loud noise of his palms slamming down on the wooden table in his living room made you flinch. Your body jumping as you let out a shriek at the loud noise, not very fond of them ever since the traumatizing event from your childhood. You hadn't expected him to react like this, especially with such aggression.

“Just stay the fuck away from Hannibal Lecter. That's all I'm asking you to do, you can't even do that?” Eyebrows scrunched and disappointment swirling behind those specs of his, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach at his tone, words and his unexplainable behavior.

It all overwhelmed you to the core.

Then a knock interrupted you both.

Will and you turned around and found Hannibal standing behind the net door, his aura slicing through the heavy tension that hung like a knife on your heads. You composed yourself, hands with a tremor reaching out to fix the few loose strands of your messy bun.

You swallowed thickly — once more put in a situation where you had to pretend to be fine for someone else. All because of your own bestfriend.

The fact made you vulnerable, so fucking vulnerable. To the point Hannibal would smell it off you and it gave him the perfect opportunity, laid out on a damn silver platter. Awaiting to be devoured.

“What're you doing here, Hannibal?”

Hannibal’s gaze exchanged between the two of you, pretending as if he wasn't just standing outside eavesdropping on your conversation. It was evident on your face that you wanted to leave, as soon as you could but without Will’s help, you couldn't actually leave. His fucking house was in the middle of nowhere and he was your only ride.

You wrapped an arm around yourself instinctively, a habit you'd adapted to when you were little. In a silly little attempt to protect yourself from the harm you faced as a child.

“Had to discuss something about a case but I guess I chose the wrong timing?” His gaze trailed over you and he took notice of the way your chest fell and rose, how you stood there as if you were cornered and scared, your own arm wrapped around you in a sense to provide the comfort you ached for.

You seemed so perfect like this.

On the verge of breaking.

“I'll be outside.” You didn't even bother grabbing your coat, only reached for the door and left without sparing them both a glance.

The cold hit you like a damn truck, shivers dancing across your spine. Regret consumed you about not grabbing your coat from Will’s hanger but you were too stubborn to go back inside and take it. So you chose to suffer in the cold, sitting by the stairs, staring ahead into the darkness the forest and the night had to offer you.

You thought about Will. His behavior, how he'd spoken to you despite knowing your history and it pained you but as usual, you suppressed it. Your pain didn't matter, how could it matter when you were lucky enough to be left alive while your own friend was slaughtered like some fucking animal?

Knees glued to your chest, you didn't know for how long you stayed there but you felt someone put a coat on you. Your body was quick to absorb the warmth it had to offer and you lifted your head up, hoping you'd find Will but instead Hannibal had shown you more decency than your own friend.

‘Cunning bastard, this?’ You thought.

“Thank you.” You held the coat tightly around your shoulder and noticed it wasn't yours, it was his own. Hannibal had given you his own coat and the bare minimum action, the simple act of kindness, it all was enough to worsen the situation for you right now.

For Hannibal, this was perfect.

You were the perfect prey.

He knew Will would react the way he had — his emotional outbursts were bound to get aggressive and he wanted Will to be on thin ice around you. To make you cautious of him, so that your lonely heart will begin searching for another companion.

Him.

“Your car isn't in the driveway, which means Will is going to drop you off.” He said and stared ahead at the empty space next to Will’s car. “But I suppose you don't really wish to be in his presence right now.”

You slowly nodded.

He was a psychiatrist, a witty one at that. There was no point in lying to the man as you tightened the coat around you. His scent bringing along a sense of comfort. It was warm, a little like nature itself.

“If you allow me, I can drop you off.”

Hannibal extended his hand out, staring down at you and you looked at his hand, then him. It was a moment of silence but help was offered and you slowly slipped your hand into his, as he raised you up from the ground. The touch of your hand, being this fucking fortunate enough to be able to feel you flesh to flesh, Hannibal was over the moon. An itch growing in his thumb to run it lightly over the skin of your knuckles but he somehow with the power of a celestial being restrained himself.

Your perfume had branded his skin.

You had branded his skin.

He lead you to his car and you sat inside, all the while Will watched from his window. There was only so much he could do but he knew that Hannibal’s charm was difficult, nearly impossible to resist. Whether he visited in the form of archangel azrael, a companion or a foe.

He was still going to be in control.

The car ride was silent when it began. Your gaze lingering over the passing street lamps, blurring in your vision as a lone tear slid down your cheek. Akin to the person you were, lonely and isolated.

“I could sense the tension in the air.” Hannibal’s soft voice sliced through the silence. “Are you alright?”

You turned to him and nodded. “Just a small misunderstanding, that is all.”

It was, infact, not a misunderstanding. Hannibal knew why you seemed this heartbroken, about the incident that occurred to you as a child, about Will’s outburst and how it terrified you.

Like a ripe fruit, you were all raw and vulnerable. Ready to be consumed by him, to be savored by him, to get rid of his insatiable hunger.

Hannibal believed he could fix you — by not fixing you at all. A broken masterpiece you were and he'd be damned if he tried to put back the pieces together. He preferred the picture he saw right now more.

“He should not have raised his voice at you.”

Your gaze lifted up. “You heard it?”

He nodded, while swiftly taking a turn into a street. “I did not mean to pry, my deepest apologies. I managed to arrive exactly at the time when he was having his outburst.”

“It's fine.” Your head hung low as you played with your fingers in your lap. Hannibal noticed, writing it down in his little mental diary he'd kept in his head. “I don't understand why he behaved the way he did. It was, upsetting.”

You mumbled the last word, shaking your head. Hannibal glanced your way. “You were under Bedelia's care, no?”

By now, you'd come to know that the two were friends and knew each other. But deep down you hoped that they hadn't discussed you like some curse, like some ugly freak who magically survived a cruel man while her friend got swallowed.

“Yes.” You whispered. “Her ways to heal the human mind are, peculiar.”

To be honest, Bedelia seemed like a woman who cared more about the influence and power she had on you than your well-being and that feeling of forced incompetence along with other things became the reason of your end with her.

Hannibal chuckled, barely.

It was just there and you heard it for a single moment. “Did you not find her treatment appropriate?”

“I didn't deem her fit to be my doctor,” you picked at the skin around your nails out of habit. “honestly, I don't find anyone fit to be my doctor.”

There was silence.

But Hannibal soon spoke. “Could the feeling that only you're capable of understanding your mind because of you going through what you did be the cause of this?”

Jesus, the man was spot on.

It slightly unnerved you.

“Are you analyzing me, Dr. Lecter?” There was soft sarcasm your voice was laced with as you smiled.

The man stared straight ahead. “Maybe, would you mind allowing me to analyze you at my office over a glass of wine?”

You knew you couldn't go back to your lonely house, especially after the remnants of Will’s behavior affecting you the way they did. The sound of his palms slamming down on the wood echoed in the back of your mind and you had no other option than to agree to Hannibal’s offer.

But poor you, it was all part of his plan.

He'd read your file, thoroughly, well aware of your triggers and your mind. How it worked, processed things, he knew it all and the wicked man used it to his advantage. To lure you in like a prince charming only to shift into a hideous beast.

When you made it to his office, the man had offered you the finest of wine. The most expensive one, all the way from Florence and you could practically taste italy in the bottle — delicious, warm and fruity. You reveled in each sip as you sat across the man on his table, flipping through a book about the human mind.

You enjoyed reading books, found solace in them and Hannibal had all the more to offer.

“I can't believe you've got these many books.” You pointed out, lifting your eyes up at the man who was now coming down from the ladder with multiple books in his arms. It was sweet how he was offering you his book, his wine, his company because somewhere he knew you needed it.

Loneliness was a slow death.

Poison so bitter but painful, it tore you apart piece by piece.

He ambled his way towards you, taking a seat on the chair and placing the books right in front of you on the table. “These are nothing. I own a library too.”

Your eyes widened. “You're kidding.”

Hannibal’s heart skipped a beat at how your eyes expanded in sheer shock, his lips expressing a small smile. You seemed akin to a child in that moment, innocent and appalled by the idea.

“No, dear. I'm fortunately not.” He replied, hands settled on the table. “I could take you there.”

“I'd love to go.” You were quick to reply back but then composed yourself a little, not wanting to come across as desperate. You began coursing through the book, reading the contents of it simultaneously sipping your wine.

Then Hannibal spoke. “You seem disturbed, dear.”

You stopped reading and looked at him, with a confused expression before realizing what he meant. Will’s behavior had left you in a great deal of confusion as well as underlined fear. It was stomach churning, when you remembered how dark his eyes were or how angry he appeared. All too similar to the fragments of the man that had abducted you during you childhood.

“He reminded me of him.” You blunted out, not really caring anymore to conceal your emotions and fears. It had to be how vulnerable you were seeming, craving human companionship and attention. To be comforted and reassured that nothing was wrong with you.

Hannibal leaned forward. “Of who?”

“The man who took me.” Your fingertip danced over the stamped ink on the beige piece of paper, gaze following along the letters and lines. “Every aggressive man reminds me of him.”

“Your fear of aggressive men stems from your childhood, as one had taken you. It is no surprise you'd feel uneasiness in Will’s presence now.” Hannibal was right. These heightened emotions of fear and discomfort would only consume you if you continued seeing Will in the light that he had presented himself in.

He was your friend. Your best friend, the man who was always there — to be your paddle and to be your pillar but now you were scared of him. Of everything, the whole situation to stay away from Hannibal. You were right in his office and so far, he had brought you no harm at all.

Only provided you with company.

“He told me to stay away from you.” The lump in your throat began to grow. If you had a gut feeling, it had definitely melted in the presence of Hannibal. Blinded by his charm and his long blonde strands hovering over his forehead. “It was confusing, Dr. Lecter. It was— too much. He repeated it like a broken record, over and over again. Ordered me even and I don't understand why he was telling me to be this cautious when you're his psychiatrist.”

Hannibal and you made eye contact, for a brief moment before you averted your gaze from him, lacking the courage to look straight into his penetrating eyes.

“Will is unstable.” Hannibal stated, as he caressed his own hand with the fingers of the other. “I have no intention to ruin the camaraderie you both have but his attempt to kill me tells me enough about his mind.”

Your eyes expanded.

Will tried to do what?

And the fact that Hannibal seemed so unbothered about it and continued seeking him as a patient. It was like Bedelia’s case all over again, except hers actually ended meanwhile Hannibal continued giving Will his time and effort.

“But why? I don't get it and you're still seeing him—just, what is going on?” Stressed and frustrated, feeling like you were being kept in the dark, you brought your fingers upto your forehead and began massaging it. It was too much for you, especially when you had your own battles to fight.

Hannibal reached for you, his own hand placed above yours. In silent comfort. “Will is my friend, or so I see him as one. He's unstable and his acts of impulsivity are my responsibility to fix although—”

He stopped and tilted his head. “I can see it is beginning to affect you too.”

You sighed, as you didn't remove your hand from underneath his. Only watching him with a gaze clouded in confusion. This was all like plates shattering over and over on the top of your head and still there is no bleeding, only the throbbing pain that increased with time.

Maybe Hannibal was right.

He was his doctor after all. Will appeared unstable, especially after his behavior tonight and the complexity of the situation terrified you.

“It is humiliating to be flesh.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you finished all your wine. The sound of Hannibal’s chair scraping against the floor caught your attention and you watched as he rose up from his seat and walked towards you. In his hand was a sketchbook that he'd retrieved from his table.

He stood next to you, placing the sketchbook over your book and then leaning down. The close proximity should've made you uncomfortable, should've sent you scurrying out of his office but because of how gentle he was, you didn't budge. “Open it.”

Your fingers with a subtle tremor in them reached for the crisp edge of the sketchbook and you flipped it open revealing the art of pencils. Humans, bodies, organs, they were all presented to beautifully and you looked up at Hannibal.

Face a few inches apart.

“You made this?”

He nodded.

You flipped through a few more and resisted the urge to caress the face of the greek personalities he'd drawn. They were so beautiful, as beautiful as him and you didn't find yourself uncomfortable like how you expected you would when laying eyes upon the more —gruesome part of his art.

It was beautiful.

“This is truly spectacular.” You commented in a whisper as you raised your stare from the sketches and looked up at him. Your lips were only a few inches apart and Hannibal found himself completely captivated by you. The sheer vulnerability and raw pain in your gaze was tugging him towards his arousal, undeniable and strong for you.

He swallowed as his dark eyes took in the sight of your lips.

And you repeated his actions, staring at his lips in return.

It all happened too fast. He'd kissed you, hand reaching to brush the hair behind your shoulder, then moving to grasp your face in it as he delved deeper. Hannibal was holding back so much, concealing the animal that he was from you, hiding beneath the cloak of a gentle demeanor and a beautiful face. His thumbs swiped over your cheek in gentle brush strokes as he pried your lips open, inserting his tongue.

Draping it around your own, the kiss grew intense and this was the first time you'd ever gotten involved with a man like this. It was too inundating but it also felt extremely good as you had denied yourself this pleasure for so long.

Hannibal’s hands slithered down to your waist, to circle around it curve of it as he raised you from the chair, lifting you up to place you down on the table. Still your height couldn't accommodate with his, neck craned up to kiss him. He soon broke the kiss, forehead pressed against yours as his warm breath mingled with yours.

“It is not humiliating to be flesh, rather special and profound.” He whispered, in response to your sentence from earlier as you gazed up at him. Eyes clouded by desire as your heart swelled with finally feeling like you were being understood. Hannibal understood you.

The connection you felt with him was intense.

The man leaned, and you expected him to kiss you again but this time he chose to attack your neck, peppering kisses all over the unmarked skin. His hands rested by your side, fingers digging into the wooden desk to keep the monster inside him at bay. He was too overwhelmed by his wanton for you but you were a fragile little thing.

He couldn't scare you, not yet.

His teeth dug into your skin, biting and tugging like some beast and you winced in response. It felt good but it was something you hadn't tried with anyone before. You've had sex before— one boy and he was nowhere near the same level as Hannibal. Just by biting on your skin, the man had you squirming.

“If Will finds out—”

He silenced you by pressing a finger on your lips. “Will shouldn't care. You're a mature, independent, grown woman. You know what you want, don't you?”

You nodded.

He was treating you like an adult, rather than some broken little doll. But that was Hannibal’s play, he knew that you craved the validation, you wanted to get treated like an adult and not some damaged person. After being in therapy, people almost treated you as you were some mentally unstable person who didn't know what she wanted. A broken, deranged person that didn't know better.

Hannibal made you feel differently, in such a short amount of time.

“So beautiful.” He whispered, as his fingers moved to the buttons of your dress. He unbuttoned each, swiftly proving that he was an experienced man and then his hands rose up to your shoulders, slipping the dress off and exposing the bare skin.

Your breath hitched and in a couple of minutes, Hannibal had completely rid you of any clothes. His own blazer soon came off, followed by his tie and then his shirt. Before you could reach for the buckle of his dress pants, he scoped you up in his arms and took you over to the couch. Lips pressed against yours, he bit harshly on your lower lip, enough to draw blood and somehow you enjoyed this aggressive manner of his kissing.

He laid you down on the couch and crawled on top of you, his knee settled between your thighs. You whimpered upon contact with his clothed knee as he traveled down, while leaving kissing against your skin, face buried between your thighs. The man held you open to his lascivious gaze, pressing a soft kiss against your clit causing you to shudder. Your thighs twitched in response and he loved how your body responded to his touch.

You were a delicious fucking sight.

He licked a long stripe across your cunt and your back lifted off the couch in anticipation. Hannibal pushed you back down, both his hands holding you firmly down on the couch, his arm prying your thighs further open. Closing his lips around your clit, he sucked feverishly and you cried out. It felt too fucking good.

One hand released you, dropping between your legs. His fingers ran up and down your cunt, coating themselves in the slick of your arousal and then slowly, he added a finger into you. He was gentle with it and stared up at you, mouth still continuing its assault on your clit while holding eye contact. Tears danced on your waterline, waiting for that one single push to slide down in rivulets on your face.

His finger picked up its pace then he added another. Your wet walls clung tightly onto his fingers, pulling them in and he reveled in all the little sounds you and your body kade. The whimpers you released, the wet sounds of your greedy pussy and the ragged breathing escaping you.

“How do you feel, Darling? How good am I making you feel with just my mere fingers?”

Hannibal’s voice had fallen a few octaves lower, deep and rough. You parted your lips open to speak but the wicked man curved his finger and your lips only let out a gasp, eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. He grinned at your reaction. “Answer me.”

You swallowed down another whine threatening to run out of your throat. “It feels amazing, Hannibal. Just —so good.”

He added a third finger and curved them altogether, hitting them against the little sponge of pleasure inside you, rapidly and with increasing speed. Your hands traveled down to grip on his golden strands, fisting them as he continued licking across your cunt and fucking you with his fingers.

Then he stopped.

Dropping all his movement.

His tongue replaced his fingers causing you to buck your hips in anticipation and need, aching for more. Hannibal was feasting on you and he wasn't going to stop anytime soon. He was beyond it. Not possessing any sort of self control anymore.

Fingernails digging into the side of your hips, he dragged them down into your skin as he hungrily ate you out. Tongue plunging in and out of your tiny hole, licking and savoring the taste of you. You were fucking sweet, heavenly and delicious. Hannibal’s mind was clouded by his lust, his ache for you. How he wished he could trap you inside thess walls of his office, of his home and never let you out ever again.

Even the sun and moon didn't deserve to capture the sight of you.

“Hannibal, I'm close.” You whined, thighs shaking as your stomach churned with a foreign feeling. It was going to be fucking intense, you knew it because of how much you were shaking.

He looked up at you. “Come for me, Darling. Make a mess.”

Your stomach clenched and twisted at his words and you soon unfurled underneath him. Thighs suffering from perpetual convulsions and eyes seeing white, rolling to the back of your head. Blood pumping in your chest, spreading like wildfire in your veins as your forehead perspired. The searing pain from your tight grip on his hair only hardened his cock, as it stirred against his thighs. Hannibal reveled in the pain you inflicted upon him.

He rose up from between your legs and your overstimulated pussy throbbed at the sight of him. Your orgasm dripped down his chin, plump lips glossy and covered in the juices you'd produced. Face messy and flushed, he stared back at you with a hazy look in his darkened eyes.

When you came down from your high, you found Hannibal completely naked. Long gone were his dress pants and underwear and your were taken aback at the length of his cock as well as the girth. The first and last time you slept with someone, their size was nowhere the same as Hannibal. The drastic change was slightly overwhelming for you, it even terrified you a little.

He took a seat on the couch, at the end of your feet and then pulled you up, settling you on top of his thighs. Holding you in his muscular arms, the man held the tip of his cock against your hole and then slowly sat you down.

You head fell against his shoulder, face buried in his neck. Being able to feel him like this, sinking all the way down to the hilt, you could only whimper. Hannibal made you feel so full and it was only the beginning.

You felt his fingers trapping your cheeks between them, as he pulled your face out of its hiding spot. Four fingers resting on one side while his thumb squeezed the other. Tears sprung out, sliding across your cheeks and crashing into his digits. You sniffled as he stared at you. Eyes lacking emotions and face still. Hannibal was a man who possessed immense control over himself, he couldn't give away his obsession for you.

“You will look at me.” He commanded, voice thick with need. “As I fuck your little cunt and make you unravel on my cock, you will not move your gaze away from me. Understood?”

You could only nod.

His grip tightened on your cheeks and you winced, lips forming a forced pout. You knew what that little act meant and you parted your lips, managing to mumble out, “Yes, I understand.”

Hannibal nodded, satisfaction glimmering in his dark eyes as he released your face. Both hands now settled on your hips, he began to move you up and down with your help. You gasped every time you felt his cock graze against your wet wells, the feeling consuming your ability to think. Your nails managed to draw blood from his skin but Hannibal didn't care. He wanted you to leave more marks, brand him as his, make him yours.

Oh he was already yours.

“Move, Darling.” You started to move too, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down on him. Over and over again, it was repetitive and Hannibal’s face was full of pleasure. His grip tight and firm on your hips, almost as if he were trying to seperate the flesh from the bone.

But you liked it.

He held you like he didn't want you to disappear.

You fucking loved that.

You both stared into each other's eyes, Hannibal’s domineering stare overpowering yours an you nearly made the grave mistake of shutting your eyes but the little pinch on your waist made you peel them back open as fast as you closed them.

“Don't be disobedient now. I expected better from you.” You could sense the disappointment in his voice and you shook your head, still riding his cock and clenching around him everytime you felt his tip bruise your sensitive spot.

You stared at him, through a blurred vision. “You're intimidating—” You sputtered, the sentence breaking. “when you stare at me like this, its intimidating.”

“Do I scare you?”

You shook your head. “No, you're beautiful.”

That was enough to cause Hannibal to become a mess. Fuck, he was all over the place and unfortunate enough for you, you couldn't see it but the man was a mess on the inside. The skipped beating of his heart, the way his eyes were almost turned into little crescents, the smile lines appearing for a split moment before vanishing.

You felt him press his lips against yours, this time in a rough kiss. Arms circled tightly around you. He kissed you like a wild beast having its feast, enjoying its food. His teeth grazed against yours when you opened your mouth, lips against lips, tongue dancing with tongue. Salivas mixing together, it was too messy and you felt the mixed saliva dripping down your chin. He lapped at your wet muscle, sucking on it.

All the while he slammed you down on his hard cock and you let out a high pitched whine into his mouth. That action alone was enough for his cock to harden even more inside you, his hands now unwrapping from your waist and toying with your bare breasts.

“Such a tight little pussy—” He grunted, head thrown back. “so fucking tight.”

Fingers rolling your nipples between them, tugging and massaging the soft flesh. The searing kiss, the sensitive touch of his fingers against your breasts, the slow and rough thrusts of his cock — all of it combined pulled you near another orgasm.

Your toes curled at each thrust and then Hannibal switched the position, laying you down on the couch and getting on top of you with his cock still inside you. Grabbing you by your ankles, he placed them on his shoulders and began to fuck you at an animalistic pace.

“Hanni—" You cried out, lips agape and tears continuously falling down.

He didn't stop. His bangs were sticking to his forehead, a snarl making its way to his face and that was the hottest thing you'd ever seen. To the point it made you tighten around him. “You're mine. You're mine to fuck, mine to claim, mine to own and possess.”

You took those words as something said in the heat of the moment but Hannibal? Oh he was serious. He meant each and every word, every syllable came straight from the darkness in his heart.

His hips snapped and your stomach went crazy into knots. “Please, please. Harder, please Hannibal.”

You were crying out for him at this point. Your hand reaching out to touch his chest but he didn't allow you, grabbing both of your hands and pinning them above your head on the couch. Bending your knees to the point they were pushed against your chest, his face grew closer to yours. Staring deeply into your soul and that moment felt intimate more than anything you'd ever experienced in the world.

“My pretty Darling.”

You swallowed.

Just his dark gaze. You could live your whole life while being captured in those obsidian eyes.

Snaps growing relentless, he kept fucking you till you came all over his cock. Your orgasm slipping out in the form of liquid, making a mess everywhere. Staining his couch, his chest, his cock. Leaving evidence of the sexual encounter between the two of you in a moment. Hannibal let out a chuckle — deep and soft. Music from heaven to your ears.

You almost ascended to heaven from how good it felt. His cock still thrusting up against your cervix, bruising your spot and continuing its assault. Your sensitive body hadn't even calmed down, still twitching and shivering but Hannibal didn't seem it fit to stop.

A low growl rumbled from his chest as the sound of skin against skin grew, reverberating against the walls of his office. With a loud groan, he also spilled inside you. Coating your walls white, throbbing and pulsating inside you. Filling you up to the brim and he didn't care if you were to get pregnant.

Hannibal was a father once.

To his little sister Mischa.

He wouldn't mind having a child of his own, especially with you.

He fucking loved filling you up and he'd make sure to do it again. After all, you were his now.

The man slowly adjusted himself underneath you on the couch, making you lay on top of his to the side. Arms wrapping tightly around you, he held you pressed against his chest as you came down from your high. His hand brushing your hair gently, caressing your forehead.

Only the fire crackling in the fireplace could be heard, mixed with the soft uneven rhythms of your breathing. You couldn't believe you'd slept with Hannibal, right after your best friend had a literal outburst about it. Guilt took over and you slowly sat up, grabbing Hannibal’s shirt from the floor to cover yourself up with it.

“You're thinking.” He commented.

You looked at him and sighed. “I have this guilt consuming me.”

Hannibal reached over, brushing your hair behind. Playing with the strands. “Why's that?”

“Will is unstable, and I have been there too. I should have heard him out instead of running away from him.” You sighed, shoulders slumped. Hannibal didn't like that, he didn't like that you were feeling bad now. After all he'd done, he couldn't have you feeling bad for Will.

“You reacted according to your trauma, it is completely valid. You were in a situation where you didn't feel safe, so you removed yourself from it.” Thumb caressing against your cheek, he smiled. It was subtle. “You should prioritize yourself more often.”

Somewhere Hannibal was right too.

You leaned against his chest, closing your eyes. Then you felt a stinging sensation in the back of your nape. It hurt but it wasn't extreme, like something had pierced you. Just then you looked up and saw Hannibal already staring at you.

Your vision became distorted.

“Hannibal..?” You called out, confused and in a daze. “What's happening?”

“Go to sleep, Darling. You'll be alright soon enough.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and fear filled you up. Just what was happening? The man held you in his embrace, caressing your cheek as you slowly lost all control of your limbs and fell against his chest.

Darkness dragged you in, from your feet and the last thing you remembered was seeing Hannibal with a syringe in his hand.

[texaschainsawmascara]

Mads

[entitled-fangirl]

Four days of hell.

Duncan Visla x Swedish!reader

Summary: Duncan curses Blut for involving his neighbor in the man's schemes.

Warnings: torture, blood, inappropriate comments, cursing, name-calling, shooting, idk just Duncan Visla things.

Author's note: I thought it was spelled Vizla, but the closed captions said Visla. Idk. Either way, I guess.

Masterlist

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Duncan was enraged.

Here he was, held up by chains like an animal, awaiting his fate at the hands of Mr. Blut.

And they had taken her in the process.

Y/N.

Mr. Blut walked through the doors, the light revealing little but the bright red of his suit. And behind him was Y/N.

She had a collar wrapped around her neck, the leash being held by the man.

Duncan was ready do make him regret the day he was born.

Mr. Blut handed the leash off to one of the guards who ties it to a nearby pole.

"You hurt me, Mr. Visla. And that cannot be repaid with a swift, impersonal death."

He slowly takes off his jacket as he speaks, replacing it with a transparent apron.

"When the English caught the traitor William Wallace, they dragged him naked through the street for six miles so that peasants could smear their warm, fresh piss and shit on him…"

Duncan didn't even bother paying attention to the man, his eyes resting solely on the girl, as if his gaze would be enough to unlock the chains on the two of them.

The old man remembers the day she came into his life. He has been out splitting logs when he heard a noise coming from around the house next door.

Y/N had fallen outside in the snow, and now sat in it, half embarrassed, half amused.

Although Duncan hadn't noticed the fall, he saw the girl immediately and found himself walking in her direction.

The girl, as it had turned out, had just moved from Sweden, and was trying her luck at a life in America.

Duncan thought her foolish for picking Montana of all places, but he would never say that to her.

In the fall, she had scratched her leg, and hadn't noticed the red seeping into the snow. So, Duncan helped the poor girl into the house. 

And that was eight months ago.

He had grown too fond of the girl since then and he now was cursing himself for it.

"…because the traitor had hurt the king."

Duncan snapped away from his thoughts and back to the situation in front of him. He was dripping sweat as his eyes glared at the man.

"…I guess Wallace hurt England pretty bad," Mr. Blut leaned in towards Duncan, "YOU hurt ME pretty bad, Mr. Visla. I have four days before I have to kill you. Four days of HELL! And on your birthday….

…you die."

Y/N had sat against the pole she was tied to, her eyes focused on Duncan's face. She had never seen the older man like this: focused, angry, and unforgiving. It was a scary sight for her.

But beyond that, she focused on the man in the red suit's words. She was struggling learning all of the English words, and lots of them she had missed just then. But the ones she did catch were the most important ones. 

Something about his birthday and hell and dying.

She continued to watch her neighbor closely. So much so, that she didn't notice the other man shift his gaze to her.

Mr. Blut gave a sick smile as he turned back to Duncan, "I'm going to have a little fun with your lady. And you're gonna watch."

She didn't quite understand what he meant, but she saw Duncan's eyes narrow just slightly.

He held a picture up to Duncan of the girl that was taken earlier, her body in a kneeling position and the man's hand gripped her jaw, his thumb in her mouth. She looked scared and confused in it, and Duncan was ready to murder.

Mr. Blut held up a knife, stabbing the picture into Duncan's chest. 

Duncan let out a groan.

Y/N pushed herself forward slightly, her eyes wide in shock. A small shriek left her lips but she covered it with her mouth.

Mr. Blut moved to his instruments of torture, "So I've given it some thought, and I've decided that we're gonna start…" he held up a small snipping tool, "…with these. Music please."

The man proceeded to cut Duncan's skin to the sound of the bagpipes. 

The sounds of Duncan's wails and cries becoming too much for the girl. She backed herself up against the pole, covering her ears and shutting her eyes tightly.

After what felt like hours, he finally stopped his torture. He pulled the knife from Duncan's body, taking the picture with him. 

"The fun continues tomorrow, Mr. Visla."

He untied Y/N, dragging her out of the room with him.

The door closed, the lights shut off, and Duncan's chains were given slack, making the exhausted man fall to the ground in a slump.

…

The pattern continued for the next three days. The endless torturing, the pained cries, the blood, and the crying girl in the corner.

By the third day, Duncan was entirely disoriented, his eyes not moving as fast as he wanted them to. His body wasn't listening to his brain and he was dying of blood loss.

Mid-torture, Blut's knife broke in Duncan's torso. He cursed at the man, and held up the remaining part of the blade. "You broke my favorite knife."

But Duncan wasn't responding. He could barely keep his eyes open. 

Blut got in his face, "I said, you've broken my favorite— hello?"

He cut at Duncan's cheek to try to get a reaction, but none came.

"I'm obviously not getting through to you, am I?"

And with that, he stabbed the broken blade into Duncan's eye.

Duncan screamed, the deep vibrato echoing in the room.

Y/N let out a shriek, her voice finally coming through. "Sluta! Sluta såra honom!" 

Blut looked over his shoulder, taking the blade from Duncan's eye. He looks back, pulling Duncan's face up by his hair. "The fun continues tomorrow, Mr. Visla."

As he walked back towards the door, he stopped by the girl. He leaned close.

The girl was panting now, her voice now turning soft compared to the shriek she had given earlier, "p…please."

The man kicked at her legs in anger. "You'll learn to shut your fucking mouth, you little whore."

She retreated slightly, her eyes wide.

Blut turned back towards Duncan. "And for your birthday present, Mr. Visla… you get to keep your whore tonight."

And then he left.

…

The silence continued in the space for longer than she would have liked.

Duncan could barely keep his eyes open.

"D…Duncan?"

He let out a groan of recognition at the sound of her voice.

"What did… what were the words he said… about me? I tried to follow but I… it was too fast."

A light hum from the man and a strained, "…No."

She nodded, understanding to keep to herself. 

"Sleep…"

She turned her head to Duncan. "W…what?"

"…sleep."

A nod, and she leaned back against the pillar, letting herself fall asleep.

…

The next day, Y/N awoke to the sound of gunshots. She jumped, her head swiveling to Duncan.

She watched as Duncan fought off the guards. She was unfamiliar with the sound of bones snapping until that day.

She hid as much as she could to avoid the bullets that flew across the room. Duncan stood straight when it was done, his mind now focused, and his body responsive like never before.

He took heavy steps to the girl who now was looking up at him with an unreadable expression.

When he neared her, he took the piece of broken blade in his hand, and stared at the collar, as if asking for permission to touch.

When she nodded, he stood in front of her now, her head tilted up from her place of the ground to look at the ex-assassin.

His fingers lightly ghosted over the scratch on his cheek, his eyes studying it closely.

She let him, unsure of what it was he was doing.

Finally when he deemed her alright physically, he knelt down face-to-face with her, his hand fidgeting with the collar's lock until it opened.

He threw it from her frame, his eyes now ghosting over the bruises that laid under the collar.

He took deep breaths.

"Did he touch you?"

She tilted her head slightly in confusion.

He sighed, "Did he… hurt you in other ways?"

She slowly shook her head.

He left out the biggest sigh of relief. "You're gonna follow me. And you're going to do everything I say without hesitation."

He grabbed her arm, pulling her up with him.

When he hurt more guards climbing the stairs, he pushed up under a table. "Stay there."

He then shot the light box, making the building lose power.

The guards came in slowly and on edge, their flashlights being their only source of light.

Duncan managed to take them out one by one.

When they had been cleared from the room and the outer room, he whistled lowly and the girl slowly emerged, following him down the stairs.

He checked around each corner carefully before leading her through. Once they entered the underground tunnel, he took the fire extinguisher off the wall. "Cover your ears and stay right there."

He threw the extinguisher around the corner and shot it, making the guards both with ringing ears and blind eyes.

After a lot of shooting, she heard his whistle again and moved to follow.

She stepped close to him then felt a hand wrap around her throat from behind, a gun now pointed at her temple.

"Don't move, Visla."

Duncan cursed under his breath and turned around slowly, his calculating eyes taking in the sight, "Give me the girl."

The guard pushed against the girl's already bruised windpipe. "I said don't move."

"Christ…"

The man was shot before Y/N even processed that Duncan had moved.

She felt his body crumple to the ground, his voice pleading.

Duncan stepped to them slowly, taking the man's shirt in his grip. He punched the man harshly.

And again.

And again.

And she let him.

After about six punches, Duncan fell to the ground in exhaustion. 

She knelt down beside him with a gently hand on his upper back.

He finally stood up with her help, and they slowly walked out of their seemingly endless enclosure. 

He pulled her to him, placing a gentle kiss at her temple.

Duncan held her close, and she let him. The blood seeping into her clothes didn't bother her at all.

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Part 2 would be cute :)))