#Duncan vizla fanfiction

[ihavemanyhusbands]

The Black Kaiser's Nightmare

Duncan Vizla x Assassin!FemReader

A/N: Shout out to beelmons and G for their endless support and help with my fics <3 :') where would I be without y'all?

Summary: You run into your long-time nemesis in the last place you ever expected, but things take a turn for the worst when you find yourself stuck with him during a snowstorm.

WC: 7.2k words

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), enemies to lovers speedrun into the bed, mentions and depictions of violence, fighting, accidental assassination of a third party, some serious bickering, abundant cursing, rough sex (unprotected, don't do it at home!), choking, very light knifeplay, dirty talk, slight degradation mixed with some praise, rampant sexual tension, ooey gooey lovesick fools who are just SO SO STUBBORN, I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything!

You are responsible for your own media consumption!

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Triple Oak, Montana.

It’d been a while since you’d last found yourself in such a quaint little town, especially in the middle of winter, but you supposed you’d been in way worse places. It was barely even on the map, which made it a convenient place to lay low. 

You didn’t have to worry about interacting with many people, and you sure as hell didn’t think you’d encounter anyone you knew. At least for the time being, you felt like you could relax just a little bit while you made plans.

In a few more days, you’d continue driving north and cross the Canadian border into Saskatchewan, where you were meant to carry out your next assignment. Your target was a skeevy arms dealer that had to move his whole operation out of Serbia and was now shacked up somewhere in the vast prairies. 

You’d been tracking his activity for some time, slowly narrowing down the list of possible locations. You’d also scored some insider information about a big upcoming transaction with a terrorist cell, and your goal was to get to him before the sale was finalized.

Successfully eliminating him would pay handsomely, and you were already planning on a months-long vacation in which you’d go fully off the radar. Preferably somewhere by the beach, where you didn’t feel the constant threat of frostbite.

You pulled into a small gas station — the only one to be found in a long stretch of the highway between the town and more secluded cabins  — and occupied one of the three measly pumps. There was only one other old pickup truck next to you, but the owner was nowhere to be seen. 

You blew hot air into your hands as you walked into the convenience store, eager for some coffee despite how shitty it was. 

“Hey Lou,” you said to the now familiar attendant, the little bell above the door ringing as you pushed in. “How’s it goin’?”

“Eh, slow, the usual,” he shrugged. “At least it’s decently warm in ‘ere. They say there’s gonna be a snowstorm over the weekend, starting tonight.”

“Shit, really?” You groaned, not only because you loathed the freezing temperatures, but because it would set you back by a few more days. 

“Yup, perfect time to cozy up with the missus back at home.”

You poured yourself a large cup of black coffee and snapped the lid on top. On the way back to the register, you grabbed a couple of magazines and a pack of Ding-Dongs to eat on the road.

“Well, lucky you,” you said, putting everything on the counter. “I gotta find ways to keep myself busy and warm in case I lose power.”

As you spoke, the door to the restroom opened behind you and a tall, rugged-looking man stepped out. His eyes instinctively flickered between the two of you, even if he couldn’t see your face. He lingered close to the back, trying not to bring attention to himself.

“You sure you’ll be good all by yourself out there?” Lou asked. “Enough supplies and all?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself,” you said, fishing cash out of your wallet. “Give me thirty on number two, also.”

“You got it, tough gal.”

You chuckled as he rang you up, glancing outside. The man behind you tensed, gripped with the dread that came with sudden recognition. Your voice was one he knew well, the very same one he’d heard all seventeen times he’d almost died. Well, eighteen if he counted that one brief altercation in Belfast.

And that laugh… How many times had it been directed at him? Taunting him, teasing him, driving him utterly mad. 

It was perhaps the only thing that stopped him from actually getting rid of you that one night you slept so soundly at some shoddy little hotel in Madrid.  He’d watched your chest's steady rise and fall from his spot in the darkness, and he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

And now he’d most likely have to pay for the consequences of his mercy. 

Lou looked over your shoulder at him, but you didn’t immediately notice since you were absently flipping through one of the magazines. 

“Need anything else, Duncan?” He offered. “Pack of Winstons?”

Your skin prickled at these two very familiar details, but you didn’t move, still staring down at the magazine without actually reading. It was probably a mere coincidence. Really, there had to be dozens of Duncans in the world that just so happened to smoke Winstons.

But then, a very particular smell reached your nose — cheap cologne you didn’t know the name of, with strikingly bitter notes that had flooded your nostrils when his hands were tightly wrapped around your neck.

You glanced up at the fisheye mirror above the register… and there he fucking was, in all his deadly glory. The Black Kaiser himself.

You couldn’t help an amused huff, especially after hearing the faintest rustle of a knife being unsheathed under his coat.

“Are you sure you want to stab me with that, old man?” You said slowly over your shoulder. 

“Less impersonal than a gun. I owe you that much, don’t I?” he said with that deep, gravelly voice of his that always made a stubborn tingle form at the base of your spine.

Your hand just barely inched towards the hidden holster of your gun. “Oh, but you know I get a little crazy when the knives come out.”

Lou looked between the two of you, confusion and a tinge of fear in his eyes. 

“Uh, you two know each oth—”

Before he could finish his sentence, you whirled around and shot Duncan’s head. He ducked, but not before hurling a large knife at you in return. You dove out of the way, hearing it whizz right past your ear, and it sank into Lou’s forehead with a wet thud. His body slumped behind the counter, blood spraying over the stuff you’d intended to buy.

“Hey!” You yelled from your hiding spot. “I didn’t even get my change back!”

“You’re not gonna need it anymore,” he said gruffly, his voice not too far from you. “But before that… want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” you said, glancing up at the fisheye mirror once more. 

Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t get a very good look at where he was, but you couldn’t stay put. You slowly began to inch to the end of the aisle, staying low. “Let me guess, you missed me so much these last three years that you decided to hunt me down.”

He scoffed. “Three years was not nearly long enough time away from you.”

You dove around the corner to the next aisle, but he wasn’t there. You started pulling yourself forward, but suddenly you were flipped onto your back. You were about to whip your gun around, but it was harshly knocked out of your grasp, sliding against the linoleum. You thrashed against the weight that pressed down on you, but he pinned your hands down beside your head. 

“Who sent you?” He asked. 

“No one sent me, you paranoid geezer!” You sneered, driving your knee up full force right into his crotch. “Not everything’s about you.”

He growled at the pain, swaying to the side, his grip on your hands relaxing. You pushed him off of you, scrambling to get to your gun. Right as you managed to get a hold of it, he was on you again, pulling you back by the legs. You tried twisting around all the way, firing another shot semi-blindly. It narrowly missed his shoulder, shattering one of the windows.

“Can’t kill me without paralyzing me, eh, little Nightmare?” He taunted.

“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You swallowed a scream as he stepped on the hand you held your weapon with, his heavy boot cracking your wrist. Your fingers splayed involuntarily due to the pain, and he bent down to take the gun. He kept it pointed at you as he removed his boot from your wrist and grabbed your arm.

“You’re coming with me,” he stated, starting to pull you up. 

“Like hell I am!” You spat, but you froze as you felt the barrel pressed against the back of your head.

“You were saying?”

He dragged you to your feet, leading you through the broken window, glass crunching under your boots. The wind seemed icier than it had been when you first arrived, which made you remember Lou’s warning about a snowstorm.

There was no way in hell you’d be stuck with him during it, so you’d have to find a way to weasel out of his grasp… and kill him in the process. 

He led you towards his truck, but you pretended to trip at the last second, bending down and retrieving a knife you had hidden in your boot. You stabbed backward, aiming for his femoral artery, but he moved and the knife stabbed into his thigh muscle instead.

“Motherfucker,” he hissed through clenched teeth, but he didn’t let go of you, tightening his grip on your arm. He fired off a warning shot into the air, which made you flinch a little. “Try me again and I won’t hesitate to put the next bullet through your thick fucking skull. I only have so much patience.”

He shoved you into the passenger seat of the truck, managing to tie you up with the seatbelt. Your bound hands were still slick with his blood, and you smiled triumphantly at him as he slid into the driver’s seat, immediately peeling out of the gas station.

“This is what gets you hard, isn’t it?” you said, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re kind of a sick fuck, old man… but I didn’t expect any better from you.”

He said nothing, instead momentarily glaring at you. He grunted as he pulled the knife out of his leg, tossing it out of the window. You grumbled about him owing you a knife, but he continued to ignore you. He drove mostly in silence, winding through the icy roads as he gripped his wounded leg with one hand.

So far, it had been one of your tamest encounters. Really, it had all sort of felt like a game, but neither of you had won quite yet. After all, a game such as this could not be left unfinished.

Usually, the circumstances were vastly different. Your respective agencies had assigned you the same target a couple of times, and it always turned into a competition on who would finish the job first. As it turned out, the two of you were very competitive.

You’d left plenty of souvenirs on each other every single time you crossed paths – broken bones, an assortment of scars, and bruises as dark as the midnight sky. You wondered vaguely how much more damage you might make by the end of the day.

Why neither of you had succeeded in killing each other was… a bit of a mystery. Maybe he saw something in you that reminded him of himself, or perhaps he was growing soft with age. He would never admit it, but he’d had plenty of fun in this deadly dance with you so far, and it seemed a shame to let it come to its conclusion so soon. 

He’d have to do it though, after some thorough interrogation.

Soon enough, he pulled up a long gravel road hidden among the tall pine trees. In the clearing ahead, you saw what you supposed was his cabin. It was modestly sized and a little dilapidated, but at least it seemed to be sturdy enough to withstand harsh conditions.

“Nice place,” you said sarcastically. “I don’t suppose you have many visitors?”

“Rarely,” he said without looking at you. “I like the quiet. No one’s going to bother us here.”

“You mean no one’s gonna come running when you scream?”

He grunted, readjusting his position in his seat. You were mostly tied up at the arms so your legs had some room to move. Rookie mistake on his part, which you would definitely take advantage of. 

Before he could pull up in front of the actual cabin, you leaned back and kicked at the steering wheel. The truck swerved to the right, throwing you against the window. He tried to correct it on time, slamming on the brakes, but the snow made it careen right into a tree. 

It wasn’t a tremendous crash, but the windshield still broke, glass raining down on both of you. You were both disoriented for a moment from the whiplash, but then you began to untangle yourself from the seatbelt. You kicked at him when he tried to reach for you, but he managed to pin your legs down.

“Can’t you stay put for one fucking second!?” He growled, fully bracketing you between his sturdy legs as he freed you from the seatbelt. 

You panted heavily, trying to thrash beneath him, but he only pressed his legs tighter against your sides. A small, high-pitched whine escaped your lips as you felt the air being squeezed out of you, and you stopped moving. 

“Satis…fied?” You managed between gasps.

“Not nearly,” he said, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he pulled back. “Come here.”

He kept a firm grip on it as he dragged you out of the truck and towards the cabin. He wobbled a little with each step, his leg still bleeding some. 

“I warned you about the knives,” you said. “Even if you didn’t let me finish having fun.”

He chuckled sardonically. “No, you’re mistaken. The fun is only just beginning.”

He led you inside and locked the door behind him, making you sit down on a rickety chair. He bound your hands and feet with duct tape, wrapping some of it around your torso and the back of the chair for good measure. You decided not to struggle for the time being and instead ponder on your next move, covertly glancing at your surroundings for anything useful.

When Duncan was sure you wouldn’t be able to bolt, he went to grab something from an adjacent room, returning with his version of a first aid kit and a bottle of vodka. He looked at you from the corner of his eye as he undid his pants and lowered them to his knees.

“I didn’t realize it was that kind of fun,” you said, raising an eyebrow. 

Still, your gaze was drawn to his crotch first before trailing further down to the injury you’d caused. Rolling his eyes, he plopped down on the bed, which creaked a little under his weight. 

He took a long swig of vodka and then poured some on the bleeding gash, hissing through his teeth. Your expression of slight amusement didn’t change as he glanced at you once more, taking out a needle and thread.

“I have to be careful about infections, who knows where that knife of yours has been?” he said.

You merely watched as he began stitching himself up without so much as a grimace. His breathing was slow and steady as he concentrated, and you found yourself entranced by the precise movements of his hands.

An obscene thought about those hands wriggled into your mind, but you immediately pushed it away. It was all the more reason for you to get the hell out of there, especially now that his pants were down.

As he was finishing his stitches, you leaned forward onto your tiptoes and then threw yourself back as hard as you could. The chair broke apart under you, the force of the blow and the angle in which you fell spraining one of your wrists. The adrenaline made you barely register the pain, and you quickly wriggled out of the tape wrapped around you.

You pulled a Swiss army knife out of your boot and hastily sawed off the tape binding your ankles. He swore as you stood, lifting your arms and slamming them down to free your hands. You stumbled towards the front door and yanked it open.

Outside, the wind howled ferociously and a thick flurry of snow limited your vision of your surroundings. You felt the unforgiving cold slicing through you as you hesitated, knowing deep down that your chances of survival were very slim. 

Still, you were reckless enough to try and brave it. You started towards the steps when you were yanked back once more, your back pinned against the wall and Duncan’s hand around your throat.

“You just don’t fucking learn, do you?” He growled. 

“You only caught me because I hesitated, old man.”

His grip tightened a little in warning. “Didn’t anybody teach you never to hesitate?”

“There is a very fine line between foolishness and courage, you know…” The corners of your mouth twitched, an amused gleam in your eye. “I wonder how often you cross from one side to the other.”

He clenched his teeth and an absolutely devious, cheshire cat grin spread across your face. The mere sight of it made his blood boil with both rage and arousal, and he felt it flowing southward. Your back instinctually arched towards him, as if you could somehow sense the sudden influx of violent desire, and became infected by it.

You stared at each other for a charged moment before he suddenly fell upon you, intent on devouring you. His lips clashed with yours in a fierce kiss and you buried your fingers in his hair, tugging at it as you retaliated.

You bit his lower lip hard, making him groan into your mouth. You used this opportunity to slide your tongue against his, and he moved the hand that had been around your neck toward your jaw. Without thinking, you pressed harder against him, your fingers about to slide under the hem of his sweater.

He clasped your wrist to stop you, assuming you were reaching for some hidden weapon. You whimpered slightly, painfully reminded that it was in fact sprained. He pulled back to look at you, both of you panting heavily and still clutching each other tightly. 

“I fear that line was blurred a long time ago, and I suspect it’s the same case with you,” He murmured. 

His words broke through your daze and you immediately pushed him away from you, cradling your injured hand against your chest. A maelstrom of emotions roiled inside of you, predominantly confusion and a worrisome throb between your legs. 

“And what now?” You asked, glancing out of the window. “It’s clear neither of us are going anywhere any time soon.”

“Now we weather the storm,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“No, seriously.”

“I am being serious.”

You huffed in annoyance, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I… can’t believe I’m asking this right now but, maybe we can… put the killing each other thing on hold for a few days?”

“So you were coming for me.”

“No! I wasn’t!” You threw your hands up exasperatedly. “Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I have work further up north. This was just a pit stop.”

He assessed you for a moment, trying to find any clues that you were lying. You stood your ground, keeping your eyes on his face. He sniffed, leaning against the wall to get his weight off his injured leg. 

“I’m fine with a temporary truce, but only if we both keep our weapons in plain sight at all times.”

“I am a weapon myself, big boy.”

“So am I. I suppose we’ll have to keep an eye on each other as well, then.”

“Fine,” you huffed, stomping to the couch and pulling it over to the kitchen. “I’ll stay on this side of the cabin, you can stay on the other side.”

“What!? This is my house!” He scoffed.

“Yeah, well, I’m being generous by letting you keep your bed. Not to mention, your life.”

He rolled his eyes, limping back over to his bed. “Whatever you say. Now, can I please fix my stitches in peace for one fucking second?”

———————

There was no sleep for the entirety of the first night. 

The cabin creaked and groaned, straining against the disastrously strong wind. Your breaths fogged up in the air as you shivered under the thin blanket Duncan had given you. The cold seemed to seep into your very bones as if punishing you for your decisions. To distract yourself from the chill, you kept an eye on his prone form across the room, knowing well he wasn’t sleeping either. 

When dawn broke, a thin grayish light filtered into the room. The storm raged on and all you wanted to do was doze off, but you were still on edge. You clenched your jaw to keep your teeth from chattering, irritated by a headache. Your mood didn’t get any better when Duncan rose from his bed, crossing towards the kitchen.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You inquired, not moving an inch.

He stopped in his tracks. “I’m hungry. Don’t you want to eat?” 

Your stomach growled in answer and he lifted an eyebrow in slight amusement. You unwillingly threw the blanket off of you, getting up with an annoyed grunt. 

“I’ll give you the food. Let’s see what you’ve got,” you said, rummaging through the cabinets.

“I could just show you…”

“No, stay on your side. Even better, why don’t you go sit back down on your bed?”

He followed orders, not really wanting to start quarreling with you so early in the morning. You finally found some oatmeal packets in one of the cupboards, and you took out a few and poured them into a pot along with some water. You left it to boil over the stove top, crossing your arms over your chest and turning to face him.

“How’s your leg doing, anyway?” You asked. 

“Fine. Why do you care?”

“I really don’t.”

He chuckled. “Good thing you’re a better assassin than you are a liar.”

You sighed deeply. “Well, it is your house, I should at least have some manners.”

He scoffed, still amused. “We are way past manners. Our only courtesy to each other would be a painless death.”

“Oh, really? Painless?” You arched an eyebrow. “Did you forget Lisbon? And that grenade launcher you stole?”

“Okay, well, I wasn’t technically aiming at you. You just happened to be in the way,” He argued. “And it’s not like you haven’t given me the same sort of treatment…”

You shrugged one shoulder. “It’s only fair.”

The two of you lapsed into silence as you turned your attention back to the pot. Once the oatmeal was ready, you spooned it into two bowls and walked to the invisible line that divided the cabin in two.

He got up and met you there, reaching slowly for his bowl so as not to seem threatening. Not that you were viewing him that way, anyway. At least not in the clearly exhausted state he was in. 

“Careful, it’s hot,” you said. “Need me to blow on it first?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, resisting the lure of your impish grin. He figured it was perhaps the more masochistic part of him that made him so drawn to you. Always pushing him, testing him, keeping him on the edge. He would never admit it to himself — much less to you — but it made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t for a really long time.

He muttered a quick thank you before heading back to his side of the room, plopping down on the bed and immediately digging in. If he burned his mouth, he showed no indication of it, but you still huffed in amusement. 

When he was done, he said nothing as he lied down, his back to you once again. A little confused and wary, you watched him as you slowly ate. Soon enough, his breath evened out into a steady rhythm, and you assumed he’d fallen asleep.

You glanced over at the dining table, where the two of you had laid out all your weapons, and considered them for a long moment. 

It seemed too easy to have such a window of opportunity. Normally, you’d have jumped at any such chance, but once more, you hesitated. Not out of any sort of newfound benevolence, but something deeper than that. Something that had been gnawing at you since the previous night.

In the end, you opted not to do anything. Surely, it was bound to be a mistake to not have killed him at that moment. But that would be a problem for another day, perhaps when the storm was over. 

You sat down on the floor by the foot of the couch, back resting against the frame. Sleep deprivation was starting to hit you as well, and you knew that if you were to lay down you would certainly fall asleep. Instead, your eyes focused on the suspiciously peaceful sight of Duncan sleeping. 

The longer you stared, the blurrier the lines seemed to get. Literally. His broad form was smudged into a single sphere, and without much thought about it, everything suddenly went black. 

Until… Shit. 

How long were you asleep?

It had been long since you’d last awakened to a man in front of you, let alone holding a knife to your face. The blade shone in your half-open eyes, reflecting the setting sun outside the window. You must have been unconscious for over two hours.  Stupid, so very stupid.

You blinked the haze of sleep out of your eyes and followed the glint to his fingers, his forearm, up his broad chest and shoulders, until it finally landed on his face. 

 “So, the game ends at last, huh?” you muttered, your gaze not wavering from his.

“Could’ve ended long ago, but it didn’t,” he said, once again looking every bit the coldhearted killer he was. You could still see, however, the presence of doubt in his dark eyes. “Why didn’t you kill me?” 

“I knew you weren’t actually sleeping…”

“Even so,” he pressed, straightening to his full, imposing height. “You didn’t even try. Why?”

You blinked, not really having an answer, not one that would satisfy him at least. What's more, you had a set of questions of your own, ones that would likely also have no answer. 

The words slipped before you could even think about them. “Why did you kiss me?” 

Silence hung between you like a heavy drape. You were cornered in more than one sense. Windows for precaution and escape had long since closed, maybe even since the moment you ran into him in that little gas station. And through hardships, you learned that if there’s no way back, the only way is forward. 

The wound in his thigh didn’t seem to bother him as much anymore, so there was no way you could outrun him. You looked down to avoid his scrutiny and he used the back of his knife to force your chin back up. 

He didn’t speak, but his eyes bore into yours, almost as if seeing through them into parts of you that were foreign even to yourself. The flat part of the blade trailed up to your cheek in what could be interpreted as a caress. 

Your hand unconsciously intended to return the favor, running up his knee to his thigh, extra cautious around his wound. You noticed a change of pattern in his breathing, and so you looked down only to find one of the answers you sought — the print of his hardened cock cruelly imprisoned within his pants. 

“Oh,” you breathed, surprised. Then again, when the reality of what you were looking at fully sank in. “Oh.”

Your hand moved on its own accord again, slowly slipping further up his thigh. Again, he tightly grabbed your wrist before your fingers reached their target, and you hissed in pain. He immediately let go, withdrawing the knife as well.

“Are you hurt?” He asked. 

“A sprained wrist isn’t gonna kill me,” you said, keeping your hand on his leg to drive your point across. “Now that, on the other hand, has to be taken care of.”

“Taken care of, huh?” He rasped, his voice hoarse with want and self-directed anger because of it. 

He raked a hand through your hair, gathering it in his first and pulling your head towards his crotch. He pressed your cheek against his bulge, his hips bucking ever so slightly. 

“And how do you suppose that’s gonna happen?” He added.

“I have a few ideas if you’re open to them,” you panted, ignited in a way that almost fully consumed you. 

His eyes searched your face for a moment, drinking you in as he searched for any indications of doubt, and then he whispered, “Are you sure?” 

This time you didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

He saw the feverish gleam of hunger in your eyes as he pulled away and unbuckled his belt, pushing down his pants. The outline of his cock was even more prominent through his briefs and you couldn’t help a sharp intake of breath at the sheer size of him. He was still holding onto your hair, stepping closer and effectively cornering you against the couch. 

You boldly started to reach for the hem of his briefs, but he said, “No. I want you to use your teeth.”

“Getting a little bold there, old man,” you said with a smirk, keeping your eyes on him as you dipped your head to plant a soft kiss on his thigh, right by his stitches. 

He winced slightly at the contact, but you could see his cock throb against the fabric covering it.  Your smirk only widened, “But I gotta admit I’m pretty impressed so far. Didn’t even have to slip a blue pill in your oatmeal.”

He gripped your jaw, clicking his tongue in disappointment. “I think you need more proof, actually. Allow me.”

With his free hand, he roughly tugged down his briefs and his cock finally sprang free — so thick and long and just fucking perfect — hitting his lower abdomen. The head of it glistened with precum, which he spread with his thumb. You shifted in your seat, biting your lip as saliva flooded your mouth.

“Open,” he ordered.

You immediately complied, wondering when the fuck you’d gotten so obedient. He gripped the base of it and fed it into your mouth slowly. You wrapped your lips around it, feeling it slide smoothly against your tongue. 

A small groan escaped him, his head tipped back at the first rush of pleasure. You hummed a little in response and he felt the vibration of the sound against his shaft. His hips began to move again, shuttling his length deeper into your mouth, until you could feel the head of it reach your throat.

He let you steady yourself by placing your hands on his legs, his hand returning to the back of your head as it bobbed up and down. Then suddenly, when you’d reached the very base, he kept your head down. Your nose was against his pelvis, your deep, even breaths fanning against the fine hair that curled there. 

Your nails dug into the flesh of his legs as you staved off your gag reflex as best as you could. Still, you couldn’t help but squirm a little, already pretty slick between your thighs.

 He cursed under his breath as he let you come up for air, an obscene string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock.

"If I knew you were such a cock drunk slut, I would have dropped my pants much earlier just to shut you up,” he said with a smug grin, looking down at you.

“More bold words from someone who’s only gonna last this round. I’m gonna have to take care of myself after you’re done,” you taunted lightly, making him pull at your hair.

You kept eye contact with him as you stuck your tongue out and traced it over a large vein on the underside of his shaft. You left a trail of wet, sloppy kisses as you made your way back to the tip, and he lightly slapped it against your tongue a couple of times before pushing your head back down on it. His balls tightened momentarily as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, and you knew he was enjoying himself much more than he let on.

"Well, if it's gonna be only one, might as well make good use of it, don't you think?" He said, pulling you off of him and making you stand up.

His lips were on yours in the next moment, just as desperate and hungry as the first kiss. He kicked his pants off the rest of the way and yanked your sweater off along with your thermal undershirt. He reached for your pants, but you slapped his hand away, extricating yourself from his lips to undo them yourself.

As soon as they were off, he turned you around and bent you over the back of the couch. There was a wet spot in your underwear that made him smirk, but he also couldn’t deny the way his cock throbbed at the sight.

“This is in the way…” he grunted, tugging at your bra strap.

Before you even registered what was happening, he brought the knife back out and sawed the bra off of you. You let out a gasp that was both surprised and indignant as he proceeded to rip your panties off with his bare hands, tossing the scraps of fabric aside.

“Hey! Those are the only ones I have here!” You huffed, glaring at him over your shoulder. “Unless you have a secret stash of women’s underwear, you seriously owe me.”

He nudged your knees apart with his leg. “I don’t think you’re going to need them while you’re here. You were already ruining them yourself, anyway.”

Before you could retort, you felt him push inside of you slowly, grabbing your hips as he let out a low moan. 

“Fuck…” you sighed without thinking, leaning your elbows against the back of the couch. 

“Yeah? Does that feel good?” He cooed condescendingly.

“In your drea–”

His hips snapped into yours harshly, interrupting you. You felt the heat of him against your back as he leaned over you, his breath fanning across the side of your face. 

“If I were you, I’d be careful about lying again. I might just stop and leave you all drenched like this, with your hands tied behind your back so you couldn’t touch yourself.”

He felt you clench around him at that and his smirk turned victorious. He kissed and sucked at your shoulder and neck, making sure to leave plenty of marks. His thrusts were hard and deep at first, hips barely pulling back as his weight pinned you down.

You let out a sound that was a strange mix between a whimper and a gasp as he bit into the tender flesh of your shoulder, hard enough to leave teeth marks behind. The jolt of pain mixed with pleasure – not to mention the slight shame that came with the feeling of your arousal dripping down your inner thighs – only fueled the fire that was steadily growing within you. 

Then, a little mindlessly, you pleaded, “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

He straightened immediately, readjusting himself to start pounding into you at a nearly punishing pace. You bit your bottom lip to try and keep quiet, but wanton sounds of pleasure escaped your throat despite your efforts. He was hitting a spot that made your head spin, tugging you backward onto his cock to meet his thrusts.

The lewd sound of flesh slapping together, along with your collective pants and groans, filled the room. He reached forward to grab your throat again, keeping you semi-upright as he continued to take you. In truth, he was focusing hard to stave off his release. He had plenty of stamina for his age, but the way your cunt took him so perfectly, as if molded just for him, was enough to have his balls tightening again. 

But he would never hear the end of it. 

Your legs began to shake a little as the coil in your belly tightened, threatening to snap. “I-I think I’m gonna cum, fuck…”

“Not yet,” he said firmly, immediately stopping his motions. 

You cursed him under your breath, beyond frustrated. You pushed your hips back, intent on fucking yourself on him, but his firm grip stopped you. He landed a firm smack on your ass, making you involuntarily clench around him. He hissed, feeling the strong urge to give in and continue fucking you until you came all over his cock, but he kept his composure. He wanted to keep indulging you for as long as he could, still not fully believing he wasn’t just having a dirty dream.

“Do that again and I’ll rip your fucking head off,” you snarled as he pulled out, grabbing your arm and leading you toward the bed.

“I told you I was going to make it count.”

He tossed you onto your back on the bed, crawling on top of you and pushing your knees up to your shoulders. He positioned himself between your thighs and sank back into your cunt with no further preambles, his strong body covering yours once more.

His hands cradled your head as he began to move again, reaching impossibly deeper than before. You clawed at his biceps as he ground his pelvis against you, making your brain practically short-circuit.

“There we go… See? I knew you could take more,” he said, kissing the corner of your lips. “Are you scared I'll pull out again? You keep sucking me back in.”

Too dazed to form words, your lips chased his so he would kiss you properly. Your tongue trailed over his upper lip enticingly, and he opened his mouth so his tongue could meet yours. This kiss was deeper, less frantic, finally giving yourselves a chance to taste each other properly. 

Soon you were clenching around him again, too distracted by your mounting pleasure to continue kissing him properly. 

“Fuck, don’t stop, Duncan. Please, please, please, just like that,” you begged desperately, moaning as he moved to kiss your jaw. 

“Yeah? You want me to fill you up, too?” He rasped against your skin. “Claim this needy cunt all for myself?”

You nodded eagerly, face contorting with ecstasy as you held onto him for dear life. Your muscles seized up as your climax washed over you, overpowering your senses. His hips stuttered as you cried out, your hot flesh molding into his like the deepest embrace. 

He kissed you again as he felt his own release rippling over him, groaning into your mouth as he shuddered, unable to hold himself back any longer. He thrusted hard a few more times before remaining fully inside of you, and you felt heat flooding your cunt. 

A whimper of slight overstimulation escaped you, but he soothed you with a whispered praise in your ear. You couldn’t help but smile beatifically, almost purring in content as he kept his cum inside of you.

As you both rode out your highs, your kisses turned lazy, almost tender, and even the way he held you felt different. Somehow, in some deep recess of your mind, it seemed right… and that scared you a little.

Still, you tried not to let it get to you then. Not as he leaned his sweaty forehead against yours, still panting, and said, “I think I tore my stitches.”

You chuckled. “You should probably take care of that, then.”

“In a minute…”

He disentangled himself from you, pulling out and sliding his body down between your legs. You tried to draw your thighs together, but he stopped you, planting a kiss on your mound.

He spread your lips with two fingers so he could see his cum trickling out of you, but then he pushed it back in with those same fingers, making your hips jerk slightly.

“T-this was a one time thing, you know,” you breathed, trying to sound firm. 

He barely glanced up at you, seemingly unbothered. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

But only an hour or so later, you found yourself riding him on the couch. Then, he took you against the wall, over the kitchen counter, off the edge of the bed, and subsequently on the floor. He seemed intent on making sure you never questioned his endurance ever again.

Even throughout the night, you slept sporadically, pawing at each other whenever you stirred. Not many words were exchanged during this time, but that didn’t mean your mouths weren’t put to good use. As usual, you both wound up with bruises, bite marks, and scratches all over each other, but the intention behind them couldn’t be any more different.

The storm died sometime during the night, but instead of fleeing right away, you let him hold you until dawn broke. There were too many new questions floating about in your head, but you weren’t really sure you wanted the answer to any of them for the time being. Perhaps it was simply best to let what happened remain in the past and simply move on.

As quietly as you could, you got up from the bed, cleaned yourself up, and dressed. You sheathed your weapons, avoiding looking at him as you prepared to leave. When your hand was on the doorknob, his voice stopped you.

“You didn’t kill me again,” he said. “Should I take that as an indication that you like me?”

You looked over at him, frowning. “Absolutely not. I’m serious, this was the last time it’ll ever happen.”

“I’m not sure I can trust your word.”

You huffed, irritated. “Well, you’ll have to. I intend to keep it.”

You yanked the door open, about to stomp outside, but you heard the creak of the bed as he sat up. 

“You know, I’m going to be in Portofino in a few months. I heard it’s beautiful there in the summer, and I figured I could use a vacation.”

“Are you trying to make yourself an easy target?”

“...Maybe.”

“And if I decide not to hunt you down?”

He raised an eyebrow. “If?”

You grimaced. “All I’m saying is don’t get your hopes up. I’m a very busy gal, I don’t have time to play cat and mouse with you.”

“And who’s who in that analogy, hm?”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “Goodbye, Duncan. Truce is over, do you hear me?”

“I’ll see you in Portofino. Make sure you bring sunscreen.”

The door slammed shut behind you. 

---——-

Part 2 out now!

#duncan vizla fanfiction #duncan vizla x fem!reader #duncan vizla x reader #the black kaiser x reader #the black kaiser fanfiction #polar fanfiction #duncan vizla smut #the black kaiser smut

[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

...........................................................

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.

.......................................................

Part 2 would be cute :)))

#duncan vizla #duncan visla #polar 2019 #duncan vizla x reader #duncan vizla imagine #Duncan vizla fanfiction #duncan visla x reader #duncan visla fanfiction #duncan visla imagine #madds mikkelsen #polar fanfiction

[bi-bard]

Stupid Mistakes - Duncan Vizla Imagine [Polar]

Title: Stupid Mistakes

Pairing: Duncan Vizla X Reader

Word Count: 1,357 words

Warning(s): Descriptions of violence, use of guns, injury, blood, kidnapping

Summary: People make stupid mistakes. It happens to everyone. However, not everyone will find that their stupid mistakes have deadly consequences.

Author's Note: I spent Valentine's Day watching a crap ton of Mads Mikkelsen projects. I don't know if that's a warning or a promise.

--------------------

I was groggy when I woke up.

I blinked a few times, feeling an aching in my arms and shoulders. There were restraints around my wrists, holding me up above the floor.

I looked around at the room of guards before turning my attention to some woman in what was clearly a wig.

"Vivian?"

She just raised an eyebrow at my question.

"Good guess on my part," I muttered.

She scoffed and walked away, going to sit down in a chair.

One of the guards stepped forward and grabbed my chin. I stared at him. I refused to show weakness or fear.

"Been dying to see Duncan's sparkling diamond," the guard said as his grip tightened on my jaw. "He hid you well."

"I would let go of me," I replied through the hold on my face.

"Aw, what's wrong, do you not like me?"

I took a deep breath.

"Poor thing is scared. Don't worry. Once this is over, we'll take great care of you."

There were a few chuckles from those around him. I simply stared at him before quickly spitting in his face.

He quickly stepped back as he wiped his face. "Oh, you disgusting pig!"

"If he did so much to hide me, what do you think he'll do to protect me?"

The sound in the room stopped. Like it was suddenly much more tense than it had been. Had none of them even considered the possibility of him finding me?

"He's a little too... busy to come and save you," Vivian spoke up from her seat, clearly trying to calm the guards.

"How long do you think you'll be able to hold him after he finds out that you took me," I asked. "Considering psychological torture is part of your boss's plan... then there are photos of me here... like this? Truly a very stupid decision."

Again, silence.

"So, I'm right. Well then, you've all been making a lot of stupid mistakes."

I saw Vivian shift a bit in her seat.

"How long do you think I've been with Duncan?"

"Our records go back two years," she replied.

I nodded. "Interesting."

"Surprised that we know?"

"Not really. Surprised it took you this long to fuck up considering how long you've know."

She took a deep breath. I looked around the room.

"What do you think happens when you take away a man like Duncan's- what did you call it- sparkling diamond?"

None of the guards replied to me.

"Well, I'll tell you... nothing good."

"Shut your mouth," one of them snapped.

"Aw, are you getting scared? Y'know, Duncan always reminds me not to let myself get scared if I found myself in a situation like this. You make more mistakes when you're scared."

"I told you to shut your mouth!"

There was a gun in my face.

"Ooo, I wouldn't let him see you do that," I shook my head like I was a disappointed parent. "Poor thing, you are still making so many mistakes."

"Shut your fucking mouth, you-"

The shouting was cut off. The guard dropped dead in front of my feet. I sighed.

"I tried to warn you," I shrugged.

Another man fell.

I watched them frantically look around for a minute.

"Where is he," Vivian asked.

"I don't know, your boss was the one holding him captive," I replied.

The door slammed open a matter of seconds after the word left my mouth.

I ducked my head down as best I could as gunfire started ringing out. I squeezed my eyes shut. I was going to feel the ringing in my ears for weeks.

It all stopped. I didn't move. Not until I felt the restraints on my arms give way and I was placed back on the ground.

I knelt down as I saw Duncan fall to his knees. My heart broke at the sight of all of his injuries. He looked so exhausted. I touched the sides of his face.

I saw Vivian move over his shoulder.

I stood up, taking the gun from Duncan's hand. He held onto my free hand.

"Don't do something stupid," I warned. "You've made enough of those choices today."

"I have a job to complete," she replied. She had been hurt at some point. I could see it. "Look at him. It'll be just like putting down an old dog."

I let out a sharp breath through my nose. "Your records... of me... they're wrong."

"Doesn't matter now."

"But it does," I replied. "You said that your records showed a two-year relationship, yes?"

"Doesn't matter-"

"You missed a decade," I cut her off. Her eyebrows furrowed.

I smirked a bit before quickly lifting my arm and firing a shot. I watched her body fall to the ground.

"A lot of time to practice my shot."

I knelt back down in front of Duncan and put the gun down. I cupped his face again.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I... I didn't want you to have to do that."

"I always thought I would," I shrugged. "One of the things I accepted when I decided to stay with you."

"You shouldn't have-"

"Stop," I shook my head. "I decided a long time ago that I wanted to be with you. Forever. I chose that. Because I love you. You aren't to blame for anything that happened. I chose this life; those people chose to take me. That's it."

His eyes closed and he leaned forward, his forehead touching mine.

"Let's go get you taken care of."

Duncan- while half-conscious- gave me instructions to find a friend of his. She took him in, took care of his wounds far better than I could have, and gave us a place to stay while he healed.

I sat on the bed next to him, staring at the number of bandages covering his body.

"How long have you two been together," his friend-Jazmin- asked.

"It'll be twelve years in a few months," I replied, turning to her. She seemed shocked. I chuckled. "He did a good job hiding me, I can see."

"I didn't think he'd allow himself to have something so... serious."

"He couldn't lose me," I shrugged, chuckling again. "He tried to keep me away at first, but I guess, time proved that it wasn't happening. And here we are."

"When did you find out?"

"God, I don't know... two years in? I think? I was mad that he kept it from me at first, but... I understood. He is... everything to me. He's my world. I understand that he wanted to keep me safe from it because I would've done the same thing. Because I love him."

She grinned and nodded.

She went about whatever she was working on, giving me some peace with Duncan. I wanted to reach over and hold his hand, but even that was bandaged up. It broke my heart.

I resigned myself to lying on my side next to him, watching his chest move with his breaths. The movement was the only sense of comfort I had. The only reassurance. I was going to cling to it.

I soon heard a groan come from Duncan.

I leaned up on my elbow so I could lean over him. "Hey..."

He blinked at me a few times. He went to move.

I carefully placed a hand on his chest. "Don't move. You have a lot of shit in your system. Just stay still."

He slowly nodded.

I grinned.

"I... I didn't tell you earlier," he muttered. I furrowed my eyebrows. "I love you too."

I chuckled, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. "Trust me, I am well aware... but having you keep saying it is very tempting."

"I love you," he whispered. I rolled my eyes. "I'll say it as many times as you want."

"Rest first... and then I'll torment you by holding you to that promise."

"Could never torment me."

"Oh, don't tempt me."

I kissed his lips gently, pushing him back when he tried to follow me. I laid my head back down on the pillow next to him.

I knew that he was still blaming himself for what happened in that place. I could see it on his face, as much as he tried to hide it. I think he knew that he couldn't hide anything from me anymore, but he still tried.

It was his stupid mistake. I was just more forgiving than he was.

--------------------

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[6lostgirl6]

I decided after watching Polar (2019) with my bestie @prettywhenibleed I will be writing for Duncan Vizla!!

#duncan vizla #duncan vizla fanfiction #duncan vizla fanfic #duncan vizla x reader #duncan vizla headcanons #polar #polar 2019

[prettywhenibleed]

𝕻𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖗

𝕯𝖚𝖓𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖁𝖎𝖟𝖑𝖆:

𝕽𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘:

Spam liking without reblogging = blocked

#polar 2019 #polar #duncan vizla #duncan vizla fanfiction #duncan vizla x you #mads mikkelsen #PWIBfic

[heuimagines]

📌 info post!

Welcome 2 our page! This blog is modded by 2 guys who have an abnormally large amount to say about Hannibal. And the Hannibal Extended Universe. And Mads Mikkelsen.

Important warnings:

Aside from canon-typical violence, we will post NSFW and potentially triggering topics, always with warnings on the post b4 the content. That being said there should also be plenty of tamer, SFW posts.

What we post:

Basically any scenario related to anything from Mads or Hugh’s filmographies! Solo character scenarios, reader insert scenarios (like a TON lol), character ship scenarios, etc. Posts could be 1 or 2 sentences or thousands of words, bulleted lists of headcanons or fully fleshed out narrative.

Basically, think of this page as an HEU variety show.

That’s it for now!

Expect mod intros at some point, but since neither of us use tumblr very often who knows when that’ll happen. Thanks sm 4 reading nd have a great rest of ur day ^^ - mod 🫀

#heu #hannibal extended universe #heu fanfiction #imagine #imagines #hannibal imagine #heu imagine #hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #charlie countryman #polar 2019 #adam 2009 #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #madancy #hannibal lecter #will graham #nigel charlie countryman #nigel banyai #duncan vizla #le chiffre #adam raki

[desperatelyseekingcannibals]

Cute, For An Older Guy (Kaisergram) - Shortfic

Explicit // M/M // Kaisergram - Will Graham/Duncan Vizla/The Black Kaiser (Polar) // Tagged: AU, retired Duncan, pre-canon Will, kinda AU Will, age difference, older man/younger man, daddy kink, bratty Will, bar hook-up, frottage, rutting, lap sex, coming in pants. Patreon Prompt Fill.

Duncan meets young Will at a bar...

Second installment on my @hannibalbingo card: "You're Cute For An Older Guy" (Polar)

Cute, For An Older Guy (2.2k words):

“Buy me a drink, daddy?”

It took Duncan a moment to realise that the young man standing next to him at the bar was talking to him. And young man was being generous, he wasn’t sure this kid was even legally old enough to drink.

Duncan huffed and turned back to the bar.

“Please?” It was almost a whine, and Duncan could feel him hovering at his elbow.

Without looking back to him, Duncan huffed again and replied, “You even old enough to drink?”

“I’m twenty two,” the young man laughed, a gentle tinkle that made Duncan shiver.

Duncan turned to look at him, studying his face. Maybe it was the light, because he’d still swear the kid wasn’t a day over nineteen, though something about his smirk made him look older, at least more worldly. Maybe it was the ‘daddy’ bit.

“If you’re twenty two, surely you can buy your own drink,” Duncan’s tone was no nonsense as he turned to the bar again. But the persistent young man didn’t give up. Instead he pulled up the stool next to Duncan and sat down, leaning in to speak to him.

“I can, but I like to be spoiled.”

Duncan swallowed, he was getting fucking hard whether he liked it or not. He hadn’t planned on this tonight. Just another quiet night in Triple Oak. If he wanted sex he’d go to one of his regulars in one of the many cities he travelled through for work.

Maybe that was why he was hard? It had been a while. He’d been content settling into the quiet way of life here. Being a man he’d never imagined he could be.

“Why me? Plenty of other prospects in here,” Duncan pressed, not bothering to look around to see if his claim was true. This place wasn’t exactly full of queer folk, and he wasn’t even sure why this kid would assume he was one of those few.

The young man leaned closer, his chest against Duncan’s arm as he muttered next to his ear, “You’re cute for an older guy, you look hot in those glasses. And, besides… I can tell you’re dangerous. I like dangerous men.”

Duncan drew back at that and studied him.

“I’m not dangerous,” he countered immediately.

There was another light laugh and then the boy’s hand was running lightly down his back.

“The way you sit, the tightness here,” his hand glided just to the left of Duncan’s spine where he’d been stabbed years before. “You may hide it well under your clothes, but your body has been broken and healed more times than I’ve had hot dinners.”

Duncan shuddered as the hand moved lightly over him, finding more healed wounds; another stab, two bullet holes.

“You a psychic or something?” Duncan asked warily. This kid didn’t strike him as a criminal but he clearly knew something about violence.

“Something like that,” the young man chuckled again. “You gonna buy me a drink?” He asked again.

Read in full on AO3!

#hannibal #will graham #hannirgam #myfic #fanfic #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal extended universe #hannigram adjacent #kaisergram #black kaiser #duncan vizla #Polar (2019) #will graham x duncan vizla

[zipegs]

prince char/duncan vizla  // 2.4k, m, royalty au //  ao3 written for day 4 of fad’s au challenge: royalty

Objectively, the masquerade ball was turning out to be a stunning, decadent event. The ballroom glittered even lovelier than usual, the music was lively and bright, and everyone who was anyone was in attendance.

It was high time to find Prince Charmont a spouse, after all. His uncle had been pretty straightforward about that, although he hadn't yet followed through on any of the plans or preparations he'd relayed.

That was all just fine with Char.

He'd always hated the idea of marrying for politics, and he hadn't yet met anyone he was really, truly interested in.

Well, except for one.

As the song he'd been dancing to drew to a close, Char gave his partner his widest, most radiant smile—which hopefully didn't come across as forced as it felt—and bowed to kiss her hand. "Thank you for the dance," he said as she giggled and blushed. Fearing she might ask him for another, he stepped quickly backward, granting her one last grin and parting wave before he turned around and wove his way off the dance floor, toward the table laden with rich desserts and flutes of champagne.

He expected to feel his shadow follow him, but no such presence came. When he reached the table, Char glanced back behind him and frowned, scanning the crowd for Duncan's familiar grey hair or recognizable scowl. Strange—Duncan was always no more than a few quick strides away, ever since Char's uncle had hired him to be Char's personal guard.

Char had hated him at first for no reason other than the fact that his uncle had forced Duncan on him—had implied that Char needed handling by claiming he needed protection. But Duncan turned out to be different than Char expected. Over the past few months—nearly a year now, Char thought as he turned back to the refreshments—Char had come to appreciate Duncan.

To love him, even.

That first night, when their relationship had turned into something more than simple duty, was something Char didn't think he'd ever forget. They'd been skirting each other for a while by then, the tension between them as thick and hot as the humid summer air.

Char had known Duncan wanted him—Duncan might have been good at holding his tongue, but Char could see the glint in his gaze whenever he sauntered a little too close. The way his hands clenched at his sides when Char's breath misted hot over his face.

When he'd finally given in, it was with all the force and conviction of a river bursting through a dam. He'd crushed Char to him, had kissed him hard and messy and deep, his mustache and stubble scraping Char's soft, bare skin raw. Duncan had rent open whatever cage he'd been holding himself in, and he showed Char all the passion and animal intensity he had been holding back. He'd pushed Char back onto the bed and ripped his clothes off him, tearing the fabric away with little care for the integrity of the seams. Char had heard quite a few of them give, sharp little popping noises and crackling rips that delighted him to his very core.

Duncan had been rough with him in just the way he wanted, pushing him down into the bed and holding him there, fucking him deep with just enough preparation that he burned and stretched but moaned like a whore through every second of it.

Duncan had stayed with Char that night, letting Char pillow his head on his softly furred chest, and he'd held him close through the night, stroking through his tangled curls.

In the morning, Duncan had been conflicted but fond, a dichotomy of emotion that has stayed more or less true throughout these last few months of their dalliance. He'd tried many times to tell Char why, exactly, their relations were nefarious and ill-advised, but Char refused to hear it. He was hungry for Duncan—insatiable, really.

And it wasn't just lust, either. Duncan was smart and kind and seemed to care about Char in a way that no one ever had. It wasn't just duty—that he did and did well—it was something deeper. He connected with Char as a person, not just as the Crown Prince.

By the time the masquerade ball rolled around, Char was utterly, conclusively in love with Duncan.

His lips twitched as he considered just how he and Duncan might unwind from the festivities after the guests went home. Perhaps he'd even sneak a moment in during the party...

Char snagged two flutes of champagne off the table and braved the busy room once again—this time with a prize in mind. He managed to beg off the approach of interested men and women with a sheepish shrug and a lift of the glasses in his hand—So sorry, but I've a person and a destination in mind, don't you see?—and he caught sight of Duncan just as he circled around to the other side of the room.

Delighted and relieved, Char hurried over to him and thrust one of the champagne flutes to him. "There you are!" he called with a grin. "I was beginning to think you'd left me to the wolves."

Duncan frowned. He took the champagne but didn't drink it.

Char glanced down at the champagne and then up at Duncan's face, studying him a little more closely. He seemed... broodier than usual. Like something was bothering him.

Char gave him a sideways smile. "I mean, I know the party's bad, but I didn't think it was that bad," he teased.

When all he got was a brief twitch of the lips in reply, he leaned in a little closer. God, he wished they weren't in public. It was all he could do not to lay his hand on Duncan's waist and ask if he was okay.

"Hey," he said quietly, gazing up at Duncan with concern, "why don't we sneak out of the ballroom for a while?"

Duncan opened his mouth to protest, but Char shook his head, already starting on a path to one of the lesser-used halls. "Only for a few minutes," he said, beckoning for Duncan to follow. "Come on; I could use a little air."

Reluctantly, Duncan obliged him, and they made their way into one of the wings that had been marked off-limits for partygoers. It was pleasantly cool in the corridor, and only the wall sconces had been lit, so the whole hallway was bathed only in a moody orange glow.

Char took a swig of champagne and leaned heavily against the wall. "There," he sighed, tilting his head against the smooth stone. "That's much better. I can't believe the night's not even halfway over."

Duncan didn't join him but stood mutely in the middle of the corridor, his fingers playing with the thin stem of his champagne glass.

"Really, Duncan, what's the matter?" Char asked, letting pretenses fall. He hadn't seen Duncan like this in a while—not since he'd stopped fighting against Char and himself and gave in to Char's advances. "Was it Lady Pickerell? I know she was a little…effusive…but I've no more interest in her than in the others."

Duncan shook his head and looked down at the glass.

"Then what is it?" Char watched Duncan for a moment, then swallowed the rest of his champagne and set the glass aside. He went up to Duncan and let himself touch, now that they were alone. His palm cupped Duncan's bristly cheek, and Duncan's frown deepened even as he turned his face into the contact. "Duncan," Char murmured, settling his other hand on Duncan's hip. "You know you can tell me anything."

Duncan kissed Char's palm and stayed there, his lips pressed against Char's soft skin. Char melted at the touch; Duncan's love flowed through him like warm honey, traveling into his very heart. He didn't know how he could ever give this up—not for anyone. Not for anything.

They stayed like that for a long while, with Char's chest an open valve and Duncan slowly and steadily churning his emotions.

When Duncan finally dropped Char's hand, he eyed his champagne and drank it down in one long swallow, then set the glass on the floor.

"Char," he said, staring at a point just over Char's shoulder. A knot tightened in Char's chest. "Do you know why your uncle hired me?"

"He…" Char frowned, confused at the turn of their conversation. "He employed you to guard me," he said. He tried to catch Duncan's eye, but Duncan wouldn't look at him. "To… protect me."

Duncan grimaced. "No," he said.

Char stared at him.

Duncan didn't elaborate, and Char's heart kicked up in his chest. "No?" He emitted a helpless little laugh, more shock and discomfort than actual humor. "What… what do you mean, 'No,' Duncan?"

A muscle in Duncan's jaw jumped. "When your uncle hired me," he said slowly, as though each word were an arrow he needed to rip free of his flesh, "he hired me to kill you."

For a moment, the two of them simply stood there in mute disbelief.

"He…" Char tried. His brain was buzzing, the world around him shifting as though he'd had too much to drink. "I don't understand."

"Told me it was a simple job," Duncan said with a sniff. Self-deprecation laid over him as thick as one of his uncle's fine velvet capes. "All I had to do was act as your guard for a little while, then when the threat of suspicion passed, I would…" He trailed off and dropped his gaze to the floor. "I'd do it."

"No." Char shook his head, fighting off images of his uncle's intent expression, that hungry look he acquired when he spoke about the kingdom. Char thought of Duncan holding him as they slept, the way Duncan looked when he came. Pictured him wrapping his hands around Char's throat, or running him through with his sword. "No, I— I don't believe you. He wouldn't—"

"Char," Duncan said. He swallowed hard, his arms hanging limp at his sides. "I'm not a good man. And your uncle…" Duncan's lip curled. "He's not a good man, either."

"But it doesn't make any sense! Why would he want to…" The words died in Char's throat. He considered how closely his uncle watched him. How much his uncle enjoyed being regent, and how little he involved Char in kingdom politics.

Char's chest burned. He blinked rapidly and stared off down the corridor.

"I'm sorry," Duncan said gruffly.

The one person—the only person—that Char had ever come to trust, had ever come to love… And it turned out Char had been nothing more than his target all along. Deceived by both the man he was in love with and the man who was meant to love him as a son. Char wasn't sure there could be a grander betrayal.

He sniffed and swiped at his eyes, then threw out an arm widely in invitation. "Well? What are you waiting for, then? I've given you the perfect opportunity. Go ahead and take it; I'm sure my uncle will be pleased."

Pain cracked the wretched expression on Duncan's face. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, shook his head. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Why not?" Char crossed the distance between them, getting right up in Duncan's face. He felt himself beginning to flush, and his body trembled slightly with fear or hurt or rage. "It's what you're being paid for, isn't it?" He glared at Duncan, his lips curling in a hateful twist.

"Char…"

"Do it!" Char shoved a hand between them and yanked Duncan's dagger free of its sheath, stumbling gracelessly back when it came loose. He thrust the hilt against Duncan's chest, pressing it insistently just below his ribcage. "Go on and do it already! What are you waiting for?"

"Charmont!" Duncan grabbed Char by the shoulders and held him still. Duncan's lips, pressed tightly together, wobbled with pain, and his eyes were wet with unshed tears. He drew in a deep breath and stared at Char for a long, tense moment. "Listen to me." He paused and wet his lower lip. "My loyalty to your uncle ended a long time ago. I would take my life before I even considered hurting you. I swear it."

Char's breath quivered. Suddenly, he could hold it back no longer, and he lost his grip on the dagger, which clattered to the floor. Tears spilled out over his heated cheeks, and he buried his face against Duncan's neck, wrapping his arms tightly around Duncan's broad body. Duncan embraced him and settled a hand on the nape of his neck, pressed his cheek to Char's hair.

"What are we going to do?" Char asked miserably, his voice muffled in Duncan's throat.

Duncan sighed and tightened his grip. "You'll have to make a choice," he said slowly. "Your uncle wants me to act soon. Before long, he'll know something's amiss."

"I can't fight him." Char laughed again, helpless. "Am I meant to take on the whole kingdom?"

Duncan was silent. After another moment, Char pulled back just enough to look up at him. "Duncan?"

Duncan gnawed on his lip. "There is another option," he said. "We could leave together—the two of us."

"Leave?"

"Could do it tonight." Duncan pushed back a lock of Char's hair and stroked affectionately over his cheekbone. "I have a home in a kingdom up north. It's isolated. No one knows it's there."

Hope and terror swelled in Char's chest. His heart sped. "Abandon the castle?"

"Just for now," Duncan said. "If you want to return, you can. After we've gathered allies and formed a plan."

Char frowned. "But… if we both leave, my uncle will know you've betrayed him."

Duncan made a gruff, assenting sound.

"That doesn't bother you?"

Duncan shook his head. "I've no need for your uncle's regard." He leaned in and brushed his lips against Char's. "You're all that matters to me now."

Char wrapped his arms around Duncan's neck and kissed him back, smearing his tears against Duncan's cheeks. "I love you," he said, and Duncan's grip on him tightened.

He reached for Char's hand and squeezed it, drawing back. "Gather your things—only what you can carry. I'll meet you at the stables."

Char nodded and let out a shuddering breath, wiping once more at his face. He started to turn away, but Duncan reached out for his shoulder. "I love you, too," he said. Char beamed, and Duncan's lips quirked into a smile. "Now, go."

#hannibal extended universe #prince charmont #duncan vizla #heu fanfiction #fadserver #mine #mine: writing #yippeeeee sliding in just under the deadline with this one lol

[countlector]

Finally posted my first ever HeU fic that too being a threesome of how Alpha twins Duncan and Markkus meet Adam Raki.

#hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal #hannigram #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #hannibal loves will #murder husbands #will loves hannibal #gellert grindelwald #hannigram fanfiction #hannigram fic #hannibal extended universe #hannibal nbc #duncan vizla #mark move on #adam raki #duncan x adam #my first fanfic in hey #heu #nbc hannibal #hannibal the cannibal #hannibal and will #hannibal edit #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal x will #will x hannibal #black kaiser #polar edit #mads mikkelsen edit

[ilovewhiteroses]

Get 2 Know Me Tag Game

Tagged by: @ruflirtingwithme and @spider-bren Thank you, loves!🥰🥰 Sorry for the late response!

Were you named after anyone? Well, technically, after my mom, because my name is the nickname of her name.

Do you have kids? No, but if I would be lucky and find a partner who is worth starting a family with, then I would love to have kids one day.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? Only in given situations, but online not so much, I think.

What's the first thing you notice about people? Their height, their face and their overall vibe.

What's your eye color? Greenish blue. It looks more green indoors, but when I'm out, the blue is more visible.

Scary movies or happy endings? I would say both.

Any special talents? If I practice it a little more, I can make heart latte art in coffee and I can sleep in a 90 degree position, which I mastered during my university years when I was travelling a lot by bus.

What are your hobbies? Nowadays fanfiction writing, GIF making.

Have any pets? Yes, a 9 years old vizsla girl, Bodza (her name means elderberry in english)

What sports do you play / have you played? Badminton during summer breaks in elementary school.

How tall are you? Pretty short, 152 cm

Favorite subject in school? English, Art and History, because I was surprisingly good at it.

Dream job? Dubbing dramaturge, who basically translates the dialogue of a film.

Tagging: @e-dubbc11 @duncans-vizla-honeybee @placeinthemiddleofnowhere @merryandrewsworld @jessamydreams @ithinkwehitametaphor @ionlyjoinedforboydholbrook @delicateteenagerunaway and everyone who feels like it 😘

#tag game #ruflirtingwithme #spider bren

[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.”

----

#polar fanfiction #the black kaiser x reader #duncan vizla x reader #the black kaiser fanfiction #duncan vizla fanfiction #minors dni

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

hii hala 🥺 how are you doing? i hope you're having a nice day! can i request Duncan vizla, the joker, victor creed and what would they do if they see their s/o down because they're stressed due exams? like they have no motivation to study and keep complaining but they're stressed because they have to study anyways gshahgssj that's my current situation and wow being a student has never been this hard 😭 thank you in advance!💛

I feel you, sweetums, I can only imagine how tough and tiresome it can be. I hope these three gentlemen will help you feel better. I'm looking for you. Enjoy!

Duncan Vizla:

I can see Duncan as a disciplined man. He loves to have discipline around him and it surely affects his s/o. He loves the fine balance between discipline and rewarding. But when the scale is tipped too much into the disciplined part of his s/o he stops. He will take them out giving them a breath of fresh mountain air. Making them a warm cup of chamomile tea to get them the RIGHT amount of sleep. He will step in and if it gets tough he will go full dom on their s/o's ass. He will have a planner for what he has in the store. He is the definition of an assassin on the outside and a soft butler on the inside.

(whoever thinks otherwise can fight me)

Joker:

J is not that committed to laser focus concentration he still thinks that you can put a book under the pillow and you will learn. But when he sees his s/o he will pull them away from the table. He will first do a full body checkup (Dr. J with no Ph.D. in the house) and then he will lock the room to give them some room to breathe. He loves to make some crazy things with his s/o like breaking dishes or painting graffiti on the streets just to have a fill of craziness. He may be not the most adult of the three but he will turn the world upside down just to make his s/o smile.

Victor Creed:

Depending on what his s/o studies he got them. History, he can tell them all about it. Medical stuff (yeah you can see I don't go to a medical college) he will show them how it felt and how long it took to heal, literature he will say that just tor bring them along and he will persuade the professors for a straight ass A. But if he sees his s/o tired and not giving up on their studying he will use his claws to scratch their back making as the nice shiver goes along. As he does that seeing his s/o in a comatose pose he will carry them out of the room and make the hot cocoa. !!!!He will give you his coat!!! That is the last resort he will put it over their shoulders and just his smell and warmth will calm his s/o as he lays on the couch calling them to lay down. He knows that this is important but seeing them smile and calm is the most important.

Tbh, this COMBO... Pure bliss. Didn't know I needed this in my life.

#joker fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel #jared leto joker #victor creed x reader #victor creed one shot #sabertooth imagine #Xmen imagine #avengers imagine #duncan vizla imagine #duncan vizla x reader #polar x reader #polar netflix #netflix x reader #netflix headcanon #xmen headcanon #marvel headcanons #imagine #mads mikkelsen #dc x reader #dc imagine #joker imagine #sabertooth x reader #Marvel #Dc #Netflix #Fluff #anon reply #requested imagine #request

[luciferablack]

I love fanfiction. And my ships. ❤️

#fanfic stuff #fanfiction #lizzington #hannigram #spacedogs #abigram #duncan vizla / camille #just me fangirling #and appreciating fanfiction

[6lostgirl6]

Duncan Vizla Masterlist

Fics:

Headcanons:

Scenarios/Imagines:

Requests:

#duncan vizla #the black kaiser #duncan vizla x reader #duncan vizla x you #duncan vizla x y/n #yandere!duncan vizla #yandere!duncan vizla x reader #duncan vizla headcanons #duncan vizla headcanon #duncan vizla imagines #duncan vizla scenarios #duncan vizla fanfiction #duncan vizla fanfic #polar #polar 2019

[tiny-yoongienthusiast]

Night night

#tiny thoughts #manifesting hannibal related dreams after watching it while simultaneously reading duncan vizla fanfiction (help)

[cacti-are-like-flamingos]

my boys. (Discontinued)

Chapter 1

_________________________________________

“---Ta da!---”

You rolled your eyes at her finishing phrase, mildly irritated by her annoying personality. Any other day you would you might’ve snarked back with some smartass remark, however, this wasn’t exactly just any other day. No, it just had to be a day where you would be kidnapped straight from your own home, drugged unconscious, and brought all tied up like a Christmas present to some fucking maniac who, for some reason, had beef with three particular neighbors of yours. Three particular neighbors that....wait what did this psycho say? What they did best? Were your neighbors...assassins or something?!  “You seem to be thoroughly confused, my dear.” Commented that sickly-sweet French-accented voice that was rapidly growing on your nerves. Coming back to reality, your (e/c) stared up to the red-suited female before you, her eyes gleaming down at you as she glided the lighted cigarette to the other side of her mouth. Amusement glittering in her golden eyes once she realized just what exactly was going through your head, a taunting smirk painting itself on her red lips,” Oh you don’t know? How cutely cliche.” The woman, who had yet to identify herself, deadpanned. Moving over to stand behind you, she placed her gloved arms on your shoulders, her hands trailing over the exposed skin of your collarbone.  “Your boys kill for a living darling. Well, at least used to. John’s retired, Duncan’s still trying, and Frank...well Frank’s more of a vigilante of sorts...hm. What an amazing inner circle of friends you have there little ol’ (y/n).” Staring at her from the corner of your eyes for a second more, you looked off to the side, gritting out, “Appears so.” Giggling at your reaction, she went back to stand before the blonde peering down at you through her thick black lashes, a mocking grin plastered on her blemish-free face. “How about we play a little game?”

You arched a brow at the female, not really liking where this was going. She grinned,” Yes! A game. I ask you a question, you answer of course, and vice versa.” “Like 20 questions?” You deadpanned. “Yes!” What were you gonna do? Refuse te woman who had a gun at her side ready to be drawn and would most likely kill you on the spot out of spite? Tempting, but you really wanted to live at this very moment. Staring at her, feigning deep thought, you waited a few minutes to answer before lazily nodding your head. Her grinned widened, by now she was close to resembling the Joker himself. “Great, you start.” “What’s your name?” You asked in a bored voice, your lips etched into a straight line, eyebrows slightly furrowed. Chuckling at your attitude, the blonde French threw away her skinny cigarette, its little orange embers dying out within a few seconds of jumping around. “Boring question, but it is to be expected considering circumstances.” As these words fell from her mouth, you watched her in utter confusion as she began to unbuckle the belt of her burgundy coat, swiftly sliding it off her body to reveal a black catsuit underne Was this bitch seriously getting comfortable?! Your kidnapper continued, “They call me Annabelle. But...”, Your eyes widen in pure disbelief as this so-called Annabelle climbed onto your lap, her black-clad thighs straddling either side of your waist.  She ran her fingers through your hair, nails softly scratching at your scalp. Just what the hell was going on?! “...You can call me Anna.” Your jaw slackened. Squinting your (e/c), you started, “ What are you do-” “You only get one question darling.” Annabelle taunted much to your annoyance.

I swear if they don’t get here within the next 10 minutes, I’ll smack them.

Your attention was suddenly drawn back to your kidnapper upon her tapping the point of your nose with her index finger, a gleam of mischief in Annabelle’s eyes.

“My turn, now tell me. How does a good, law-abiding civilian like yourself gets mixed up with three cold-blooded murderers?”

________________________________________

“MICRO! Get your ass down here! Now!” Frank yelled from the very depths of his chest, fury seeping into it. Hearing such boom, the once asleep male, jumped from his wheeled-chair, his body crumpling down to the dirty concrete floor. Groaning in pain, the tech-guy looked out through a broken window from the second floor of the building, eyes widening at the sight of a very, very angry Frank Castle. Behind him stood two other guys, Micro noted; their faces unfamiliar to him. Jumping back on to the balls of his feet, Micro rubbed his now sore back as he hurriedly walked down the steps, his other free hand holding onto the black rusted railing. “What’s the matter now Frank?” His voice groggy with sleep, a semi-irritated look adorning his face. “They kidnapped them Micro.”

The former NSA Analyst arrowed his eyes at Frank, not fully understanding just who was kidnapped. Heading over to his chair sitting beside the many screens, he settled himself down. Rolling over to sit right infront of his main screen, he turned the chair to face his company. Sending a small glance over to the two other individuals in the garage with them. They looked familiar. Too familiar. Maybe he had seen them on a couple of traffic cams?.....No....He had the oddest feeling that he had seen their faces somewhere when he was still working for the government. And that was not good to say the very least.

“Just who was kidnapped?" "(Y/n)." He pondered for a second, searching through his archives of memories of just who might that name belong to...Ah! "(Y/n) the neighbour? The one you're always obsessing over?" The ex-marines nose scrunched up in distaste, already feeling the intense stares from the two trained assassins behind him. "I. Do. Not. Obsess over them." The hacker arched a brow, bemusement glinting. "You su-'" "MICRO!" "-Sorry sorry. Bit insensitive of me." Turning around in his chair, he now truly faced the computed screen, fingers typing furiously. "I'll hack into their apartment building CCTV cam. That should give us a view of the kidnapper." "Good." Frank muttered under his breath. Huffing at his little comment, Micro grabbed a chip from the potatoes chip bag that laid on the desk. Popping it into his mouth, he chew on it before swallowing," Now do tell me why the Governor from the Walking Dead and brooding ninja are doing here." Micro gestured behind him without looking back. Rolling his eyes in obvious annoyance, Frank snarled," The one dressed in black is John Wick, silver hair is Black Kaiser." It was at that very moment that Micro paused in his typing, his mouth going dry. He remembered now. He had read John Wick's profile a long time ago, when the case was assigned to him. It was clear that he was the one to kill most of New York's Russian mob off along with causing some havoc in Italy but it could never been proven in terms of evidence. The Black Kaiser was another story, actually there was no story on him. The only thing that was on his file was a blur of a face, his alias, and the known fact that he was a hitman. They were two men he, in all honesty, would never want to have come across. Who would've thought he'd be in the same room as two ghost? "What's wrong?" Frank inquired. Looking up to his friend's face, Micro shook his head, resuming to what he had been doing. He'd better find them fast or....he might actually die. And by the hands if fearsome men.

Gulping anxiously, Micro hacked into the cam," Pulling up the video footage now. When do you suspect her kidnapping occurred?" Upon hearing this, John and Frank came to stand on either side of him, hands on the desk as they both leaned in to see the footage. Whilst Duncan, once again, watched from a far with a thoughtful, yet well-conceiled expression.

"Yesterday at 3 pm-" "-Yesterday, 4pm." Both Frank and John stated simultaneously. Upon hearing John's words, the vigilante's right eye twitched in anger. "What were you doing with them?" Frank spitted out with venom, only to earn a harsh glare from the Boogeyman, "None of your fucking business Castle." Already seeing in his head where this was going, Duncan breathed in heavily as he rolled his eye. Standing between the two, he answered, "Yesterday, 11 pm in their apartment." His answer causing the other two to let make noises of disgruntlement. Duncan's face remained neutral...except for the small cocky smirk that dared to tug at the corners of his mouth. A sense of pride swelling in his chest as he puffed it outwards, almost as if he were showing off that fact that he had seen them wayyy after they had. In a way, he had just won this little...competition. "What were you doing so late in their apartment Vizla?" John inquired, hands twitching much like Frank's eye, in anticipation. Quietly snorting, Vizla reached into the inner pocket of his coat, taking out a small box of cigarettes. Taking a single one out, he pulled out a metal lighter. Lighting the stick, he placed the cigarette into his mouth, putting the lighter away. Taking in a cloud of smoke, he blew it out into the face of Micro, who had very much not appreciated the action. Duncan looked back up to the male, eyes cold as ever, yet with a glint of taunt in them.

.

.

.

"As a jackass once said, it's none of your business Wick."

________________________________________

A/N: yeah I know I'm a shit author. My publiwhing is all over the fucking place. And I know you've been waiting for this shit since forever and I'm being a bitch by writing these short shits of a chapter but I've been going through some shit and I'm not really in a happy place anymore. Some loved ones died, I've been abandoned by people i thought were friends---But I'm trying. Even though it don't look like it, I'm trying. So yeah. Hope y'all be having good lives (I say this with sincereness)

#john wick x reader #john wick imagine #john wick #duncan vizla x reader #duncan vizla imagine #duncan vizla #black kaiser x reader #black kaiser imagine #black kaiser #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #the punisher #punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle #frank castiglione #romance #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #readerinsert #reader #polar