#Duncan Vizla x Reader

[bennwazzhere]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE HIMMMMMM ARGGGG

Tender

Also on AO3

Pairing: Duncan Vizla x Fem!Reader

WC: 4.2k words

Summary: based on this blurb of Duncan saving you after your car crashed near his cabin during a snowstorm. He nurses you back to health and you wait out the storm with him, growing closer with each passing day.

Warnings: angst (light), a little instance of whump (car accident, sickness), fluff, mutual pining, lovey dovey smut, unprotected p in v (dont do it at home), aaand honestly i think thats it! But lmk if anything else!

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

Everything had been a blur at first. The dark, winding roads that your high beams could barely break through. The unforgiving flurries of snow that enveloped your car, almost turning it into a glistening white tomb. The fear, the sobbing, and the pleas for your stupidity to be forgiven. 

Ironically, it was the crash that saved you. Nothing deadly, of course, given how slow you were driving. But it was still enough to give you whiplash, your sense of survival numbing you to anything else.

The chill seeped to your very bones as you pulled yourself out, looking around at your dark, unfamiliar surroundings. A sea of nothing… and then there was another beacon of light, off in the distance. You could weep with joy if you’d been able to.

Stumbling there had seemed eternal, perhaps punishment for putting yourself in that situation in the first place. You fell once or twice, still disoriented, but you didn’t rest until you reached your destination — an old cabin, with only one of the porch lights on. It had to be fate.

You barely remembered actually getting there, much less knocking on the door. But suddenly there was a tall, rugged man in the doorway, disheveled in a way that indicated he’d just woken up. The sight of you gave him a momentary pause, but then he ushered you inside.

He sat you before the fire and brewed tea for you, worried at your lack of speech. He’d tried asking questions without much luck, and in the end, all you could give him was your name. Warmth returned to you slowly after that, reaching your extremities last. Clarity was still far from your mind, though, especially as the warmth turned into a fever. 

He nursed you all through the night, driven by a sudden protective streak. Truthfully, the whole thing had been a whirlwind, leaving him with more questions than answers. Still, even if you were a stranger that he couldn’t yet absolve from suspicion, he couldn’t just leave you as you were. 

He’d tucked you into his bed, adding an extra blanket on top, and sat on a pillow beside it. He kept a cold compress on your forehead, trying to keep the fever from worsening. It had been strange at first, taking care of someone other than himself. The sight of you, with a feverish pallor and shuddering so hard your teeth clacked, was piteous. 

Many times in the past, whether or not someone lived had been a decision he had to make, but this wasn’t the case. Nothing had ever made him feel more helpless, not knowing what else he could do to keep you going. It made his heart squeeze with anxiety, strangely enough.

You murmured things in your sleep he couldn’t quite understand, restlessly tossing and turning. That reassured him that at least you weren’t slipping away. A part of him couldn’t help but find it fascinating. 

He had been living alone out there for a long time, not having much of a chance for this sort of human interaction. And when he did have a chance to interact with others, well… It wasn’t exactly to be a tender caregiver. 

By the time morning came and a thin, watery light filtered in through the windows, he had fallen asleep slumped against the bed. His head was resting near one of your hands, and when you woke up, you noticed your fingers were woven through his graying locks. 

You blinked, trying to comprehend the sight. Without moving, your eyes darted around as you tried to gather your bearings. A piercing headache made you wince, but still, some memories of the previous evening floated back to you. 

You hadn’t gotten a proper chance to take a look at your savior before, but from what you could tell he was strong and muscular under his winter clothes. He had a thick mustache and salt-and-pepper stubble, but you couldn’t see all of his features very well from that angle.

Slowly, so as not to disturb him, your hand retreated from his hair. Still, he woke up immediately, lifting his head. Your eyes met as you two froze, unsure of how to proceed.

“U-um… Hi,” you said, your voice raspy and weak. 

“Hello,” he said, clearing his throat. “How… How are you feeling?”

“Alive, but just barely. Kinda loopy… like I’m still in a dream.”

He stood up, both wanting to put some distance between you and wanting to be helpful. He clenched and unclenched his fists nervously. 

“Can I get you anything?”

“Maybe some water, please, um…” you stared at him, prompting.

“Duncan,” he said, realizing he hadn’t had the chance to tell you. 

“Duncan,” you repeated. “Um, well this is an interesting situation. I’m really sorry about, you know, almost dying at your doorstep.” 

He huffed in amusement, one of the corners of his full lips pulling up in a faint, relieved grin. He was very handsome, you decided, taking in his dark eyes, slightly crooked nose, and chiseled jaw. A little weathered perhaps, but that only added to his look. 

You hoped that, in contrast, you didn’t look just as horrible as you felt. But that had to be the least of your worries at that moment. First thing on the list was making sure you recovered and were able to continue on your way after.

“It’s all good, I’m just glad you didn’t actually die,” he said. “I’ll try to make sure it stays that way.”

You nodded gratefully. He went over to the kitchen and brought back a glass of water. You painstakingly sat up on the bed and downed it all in one go, not having realized you were absolutely parched. He got you another one, but this time he tried to get you to drink it slowly.

“Any better?” He asked, brows slightly furrowed. “I could make you some food, too, if you’re hungry.”

“I want to help,” you said, starting to push the covers off of yourself. 

Your aching muscles made you wince, grimacing, and he set a tentative hand on your shoulder to stop you. Then, realizing his actions, his hand quickly retreated.

“It’s, er, no trouble. Probably better for you to conserve energy. Do you like oatmeal?”

You nodded, still unsure. “Are you sure? I have troubled you so much already…”

“It’s okay, really,” he insisted. “I did just tell you I’d make sure to keep you alive, didn’t I?”

His attempt to lighten the mood was punctuated with a small, awkward grin, which you found incredibly charming. You relaxed a little at that, smiling sheepishly in return.

“Alright, but as soon as I’m better, you can’t stop me from helping.”

——————————

In the next couple of days, your health began to improve. Your fever finally abated on the third night, and by the next morning, you were up and about. You kept your promise about helping around the place, and there truly was nothing Duncan could do to stop you.

He’d thrown your clothes in the washer while you showered, so you had to wear one of his large flannel shirts. It reached past your knees, and you had to fold the sleeves back a few times, but it was very comfortable otherwise. 

You shooed him away while you made breakfast, insisting it was your turn to treat him. It was the least you could do after everything.

He sat in his armchair, the book on his lap forgotten as he covertly watched you move around the small kitchen. He was fascinated by the domestic image, never having thought he could attain it. Already you breathed life into the cabin, smiling and humming softly to yourself, feeling better than you had felt in a long time.

You’d grown closer in those past days, talking whenever you were awake. He had already ruled out any suspicion and was willing to be more open with you. He didn’t speak much about his job, though, and he’d deeply appreciated you not pushing the subject.

You had your own secrets to keep, after all, and you understood the importance of one’s personal privacy. You were still strangers, even if you owed him your life. Beyond that though, you felt comfortable with him, safe. Despite his tough seeming exterior, he was a softie underneath, and not to mention a gentleman. 

You couldn’t help being drawn to him, and it seemed he couldn’t help but be drawn to you in return. He was a little better at being subtle about it, though, especially since he didn’t really know what to do about what he was feeling.

“How do you like your eggs?” You asked, glancing at him over your shoulder.

He cleared his throat, shaking his head a little to snap himself out of his thoughts. 

“Er, scrambled or fried, whatever you prefer,” he said, picking his book back up only to read the same sentence over and over again.

You chuckled softly, noticing the tips of his ears had gone red. When you finished cooking, you served him at the small dining table and sat across from him. You heard the distant howl of wind outside the window, but the storm didn’t seem to be nearly as bad anymore. 

“Think it should die down in a couple more days, right?” You said.

Duncan glanced out of the window and thought for a moment. “Yes, I think so. Winter’s been harsher this year.”

“It’s what we get for living so far up north, I guess,” you sighed. “I live in Triple Oak proper. Small apartments don’t really have the best heating. I have a lot of blankets, though, so that helps some.”

“You live by yourself?” He asked before he could think about it.

You nodded, moving your food around your plate nervously. “Yeah, kind of recent, but it was a long time coming.”

He grunted in response, turning back to his food. He would always return the courtesy of not pressing, and you were infinitely thankful for that too. 

The two of you ate in silence for a moment, and you snuck a glance at him. There were no signs in the cabin that anyone else had lived there for a while, but you could never be too sure. 

“I don’t want to presume but… you’re not exactly waiting for more company either, are you?” You tried to sound as casual as possible despite the embarrassment of asking in the first place.

“No,” was all he said, and again you left it at that. 

“Do you ever get scared a bear might get you out here?” You asked instead, changing the subject.

He chuckled. “No, but I have seen some around a few times. We mostly stay out of each other’s ways.”

You blinked. “Mostly?” 

“Well, I can’t just let them rummage through my trash cans.”

You could be a bear yourself, the size that you are. The thought came into your mind unbidden, and you felt your face heat up. It would be a lie to say you hadn’t checked him out more than once. Or thought of his strong arms enveloping you, your fingers running through his hair…

You took a shaky sip of coffee, trying to remain composed. To your luck, he didn’t seem to notice.

“It has definitely been nice having some company,” he said softly, not looking at you. 

“Yeah, I think so too,” you said with a small smile. “Crazy as it was… It was really good to meet you, Duncan.”

He smiled in return, glancing up. There was something between you, some sort of energy, that felt inevitable. It was all just a matter of when, and based on the fact that you couldn’t really leave the cabin, well… The clock was ticking.

When you finished eating, you cleaned up as he went to build a fire in the hearth. You insisted on helping with some other chores, like cleaning up the mess that the cabin had become in just a couple of days. 

You wished you could open the windows and let some fresh air in, but that would have to wait until the storm had subsided. The two of you worked in different sections of the cabin for the next few hours, getting a lot more done in a lot less time.

Once you were finally done, you slumped down before the fire. Duncan sat next to you, leaving a respectable distance between you. You wanted to tell him you wouldn’t bite if he sat any closer, but you weren’t brave enough to be that forward yet. 

“We kinda make a good team, don’t we?” You said, leaning back and stretching your legs in front of the hearth.

He nodded, glancing at you sideways. His eyes were drawn down to the smooth expanse of your bare legs, the orange light of the flames flickering over them. He swallowed hard and looked away, willing himself to keep it together. 

You inched closer to his side until your hands were barely touching. He tensed a little at the contact, but didn’t move away. His heart started pounding in his chest. 

“It really is pretty cozy in here,” you said, sighing contentedly. “I’m definitely going to miss it when I go back home.”

“You may stay as long as you need,” he said, internally dreading the moment of your parting. 

“That’s very sweet of you, but I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome… I kind of feel like I already am.”

“Not at all,” he said resolutely, frowning slightly. “But even so, you may also visit whenever, my door will always be open to you.”

“Bonded for life, huh?” you teased, playfully bumping his arm with yours.

He huffed in amusement. “Something like that.”

You glanced down at your hands and ever-so-slowly, you hooked your pinky over his. Your entire face felt warm, and for a moment you thought he might pull his hand away… but he didn’t.

“I’ll definitely take you up on it,” you murmured, grinning wryly. “You’ll get sick of me coming around so much.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think I could.”

In a moment of supreme boldness, he decided to wrap his arm around your shoulders. He brought you closer to his side, making your breathing hitch. He was warm and smelled faintly of pine needles and cigarette smoke. You leaned your head against him.

“It’ll be pretty quiet around here without you, that’s for sure,” he added, resting his chin on the top of your head. 

Your heart hurt for him then. You wanted to help him not feel so lonely, to show him the same tenderness and care he had shown you – which you both so desperately needed. You pulled back slightly to look at him, your faces inches apart. You searched each other’s eyes for something – perhaps confirmation – and it was yours that flicked to his lips first. 

“U-um…” you breathed, not entirely sure of what to say.

Turns out, you didn’t need to say anything. He leaned in, gently cupping your face with his free hand, and his lips met yours. It was just an experimental peck first, but when your mouth sought his again, it became a proper kiss. You melted against him, clinging onto his sweater as your lips parted to give his tongue access.

You kissed for what seemed like an eternity, unrushed, just enjoying the feeling of one another. He pulled you onto his lap and you wrapped your arms around his neck. His large hands had settled on your hips, inches away from the bare skin of your legs. 

Then you pulled back, dazed and panting, leaning your forehead against his. Your heart was beating fast, thumping against his chest. You tucked some hair away from his face and gazed at him for a moment.

“Sorry if I took you by surprise,” you whispered with a sheepish grin. “I just… really wanted to do that.”

“Not as much as I did,” he joked, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, but you were just waiting for me to make a move first, weren’t you?”

“Maybe…” 

The two of you laughed, and there was a giddy feeling in your chest. The look on his face was earnest and hopeful, but there was something there that told you he still couldn’t believe it was happening. You cupped his face, gently stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. 

You bit your lip to contain a grin. “Do you want to do it again?”

“You don’t even need to ask,” he said, seconds before he pulled you back in. 

—-----------------------

Later that night, as you were starting to settle in for bed, you watched as Duncan grabbed stuff to sleep on the couch once again. You were internally debating whether or not to say something, but your desire for more overrode your doubts.

“Um, Duncan…” you said, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket nervously. “Do you want to maybe… share the bed tonight? I feel so bad about forcing you to sleep uncomfortably.”

He stopped mid motion and looked over at you. “Are you sure? I don’t mind at all.”

You nodded all too eagerly. “Yes, of course. Plus, it gets pretty cold when the fire dies out, and I wouldn’t mind sharing some heat…”

He was visibly affected by that, his spine straightening. Once more he swallowed hard, mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the right words.

“Y-yes, you’re right. I-I wouldn’t want you to freeze,” he said, nodding.

He carried his stuff over to the bed, sitting on the mattress hesitantly. You slipped inside the covers, lying on your back. Your eyes were beguiling as he glanced back at you, desire glittering in them. He slipped in beside you slowly, painstakingly making sure there was a little space between you. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what to do, many different instincts warring within him. He didn’t want to seem like he was pressuring you to do more. Kissing was all you had done earlier, despite the fact that your hands had wandered some over each other’s clothed bodies.  

In the end, he shut the lights off, leaving the room only faintly illuminated by the fire in the hearth. You pressed closer to him and he wrapped an arm around you as you rested your head on his chest. Your warmth against him was intoxication, and he had the urge to curl his body around yours.

“Goodnight,” he said softly.

“Goodnight,” you replied, wrapping an arm around his midsection. 

But in the still, quiet darkness, neither of you went to sleep. You lied there, expectant, hyper aware of his nearness and his smell and the comforting heat emanating from him. He was in the same position, tormented by it. Your fingers involuntarily traced lazy circles on his chest, and in response, one of his hands traced up and down your spine.

You let out a pleased hum, thoroughly enjoying his touch. His body shifted, and when you couldn’t take it anymore, you lifted your head so you could look at each other. And then you kissed him, slowly once again to start. 

But soon enough, the kiss grew needier, more ferocious. Teeth and tongues and lips clashing together, intent on devouring. With a shaky hand, you began to undo the buttons of the flannel shirt he had given you, and soon his hands touched skin instead of fabric. He groaned into your mouth then, already far too gone. 

“Can I?” he husked, wanting to see more of you.

You nodded and he pushed it off of you, an agonized look on his face as he took in your form next to him. His hands didn’t know where to go next, but his eyes lingered on your heaving chest – or, more specifically, the swell of your breasts. Gently, you took his wrist and guided them there. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, kissing you once more. 

You could feel something insistently pressing against your hip, and you realized he was hard. A whimper escaped your throat and you arched against him as his hands continued their exploration. One of them ghosted past your ribcage and lingered in your abdomen, the tips of his fingers maddeningly close to the hem of your underwear. 

“Duncan…” you sighed as he pulled away to kiss your jaw and down the column of your throat. 

“Do you want me to take care of you?” he asked against your skin, making you shudder.

“Yes,” you pleaded. “Yes, but I want to touch you, too.”

“Touch me wherever you like.”

His hand continued its slow trail south, and you lifted your hips to let him take your panties off. Your legs spread for him eagerly, and you brought your hand down to palm his erection over his briefs. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, hips bucking against your touch. 

He let out a tortured sound as his fingers finally found purchase, finding you soaked already. His fingers slid through your folds with ease, but his touch was gentle and exploratory. You gasped, mewling desperately. You continued to touch him in turn, both excited and intimidated by the size and girth of him. You slipped your hand beneath the hem, wanting to touch the velvety skin of it.

“Take these off,” you murmured, tugging at the hem.

He pulled them off his hips and kicked them the rest of the way off. Your fingers curled around the shaft, pumping slowly. His lips found yours again sloppily, a moan low in his throat. His fingers circled your clit, making you jerk against him. Once he found a rhythm that you seemed to really like, he held you to him as you bucked and writhed, nearing your orgasm.

“Don’t stop,” you choked out, muscles taut as a bowstring.

And in a matter of seconds, you shattered under his expert ministrations. A flint sparked low in your belly, spreading outward in waves of pleasure. You clung to him with a cry, lest you became unmoored.  

“Just like that,” he encouraged, kissing the corner of your lips. “Let go for me.”

His movements did not stop until you gripped his wrist from overstimulation. Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest in the aftermath. You gave him a piteous, agonized look, begging him for more.

“I need you inside me,” you whimpered. “I-I can’t take it anymore. I need you close.”

He didn’t need any more convincing, adjusting your bodies and sliding over you. Your knees drew up beside his hips and he spat down on his cock, spreading it by pumping it in his fist. The head of it teased through your folds, coating itself in your arousal, and then he was slowly pushing inside of you.

You reached up and clung to the corner of the pillow under your head with one hand, mouth slack with all the sensations the stretch brought. Your name slipped past his lips deliriously as he fucked into you shallowly, letting you get used to him. More of his weight leaned on you, and you trembled under him like a doe pinned by the jaws of a mountain lion.

“F-fuck… You’re b-big,” you panted. “Feels s-so fucking good.”

He moaned near your ear, the cant of his hips becoming longer, his length slowly drawing back before sliding back into the hilt. Your wanton moans ascending in a rhythmic spiral were like music to his ears. He was hypnotized by the way your breasts bounced with each thrust, and the way you were clenching around him so sweetly, sucking him back in… It was all rapidly leading him to the edge. 

“You feel like heaven,” he husked, his voice soft and dreamlike. 

You lost yourselves in each other’s bodies, making it last as long as possible. He reached down between you and slicked his thumb over your clit in time with his thrusts. Pleasure mounted once more, to the point where you were practically yowling like a wildcat. You couldn’t even form a sentence, your mind clouded over in a haze of ecstasy.

Your knees pressed against his sides as you came even harder than before. He came soon after with a rough groan, leaning his forehead against yours. He remained fully sheathed inside of you, not wanting to separate for even a moment, despite your sweat slicked skins sticking together. 

You let out a winded chuckle, awash in endorphins, and he smiled beatifically. He tucked your hair away from your face and took a long look at you, as if committing you to memory. He had never seen anyone so beautiful before, and not to mention sweet as honey. Maybe it had been fate that you ended up there, fitting so perfectly in his arms. 

“Would you… Maybe consider staying a little longer?” He murmured, touching the tip of his nose against yours.

You nodded, your smile taking on a playful edge. “I think that can be arranged… As long as you’ll have me.”

At that moment, if it were up to him, then he would have you stay for good.  But for now, he was content with taking it one day at a time. 

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

[promisingyounglady]

cigarettes after sex. | DV x Reader

PAIRING: Duncan Vizla x Younger!Reader

A/N: I could treat him so good…

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

“Does it feel good?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Later. You have time”

[psajsbrkm]

SIR???🛐🛐🛐

[dolicekiss]

Hi I'm not sure if you're taking requests (i don't know how the request work so sorry)

Could u write a one-shot, where Reader and Duncan have a mission and them go to the place but before do the work, they arrive at a hotel and them only rent a room with one bed (obviously) Duncan tells her that he'll take the bed and she'll sleep on the floor, then he go to take a shower and she doesn't care about his request and takes the bed, Duncan comes out and them start to fight because she didn't listen him, until she suggests that both take the bed (Duncan don't like the idea but don't decline and just does it) after a while she stars to tempt him at first he's angry bout all the situation, but the moment takes another path and u alr know (smut) if u r comfortable with ofc. (And sorry my english isn't great sorry for the type errors)

This is an idea of one chat with a bot of c.ia but the bots r not as good as a writer <3

♡: anon i know about this bot and i have done some freaky stuff w it 🤭 i love this request

Contumacious

PAIRING: Duncan Vizla x Bratty!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni), unprotected sex, age gap (reader is in her twenties), bratty reader, dominant duncan, tension, oral (male receiving), duncan calls reader ‘little girl’, overstimulation, choking, hair pulling, biting, slight blood, degrading, talkative duncan, slight (very minor) fluff at the end.

SYNOPSIS: On a mission, Duncan decides to stay at a hotel room for further planning and to rest. But when he orders you to take the floor and decides to stake his claim over the bed, things become heated between the two of you.

Duncan didn't expect to see a single bed in the room when he stormed in, along with you, who carried your own bag of basic necessities.

Frustration was as clear as water on his rough features when he realized he'd have to sacrifice a good night's sleep if he were to allow you slumber along him.

So he didn't sacrifice shit.

The man dropped his duffle bag over the bed, in a way branding it as his. “I get the bed, you get the floor.”

You couldn't even oppose because he'd already left for the bathroom, assuming to take a shower. Your lips formed a frown, brows furrowing. Just who did Duncan Vizla think he was? You both were equals on this mission, sent by Damucles to strike down a Mexican mob boss.

Duncan being older didn't mean he could do as he wished. You stood firm on give respect in order to receive it, age had nothing to do with it. You also placed your bag on the bed and slipped off your boots, sprawling across it.

If you had to take the bed forcefully, then so be it.

When Duncan was finished with his shower and came out, he was the least bit pleased with the sight afore him. You on your stomach, laying on the bed, feet up in the air and oscillating.

His bushy eyebrows scrunched in irritation. The man stormed towards you, standing right in front of you and you lifted your gaze up fron the pistol in your hands. Only to acknowledge him before going back to toying with the weapon in your hands.

That only worked to raise his anger more.

“I told you the bed is mine. Get your little ass off it.” You lifted your head, to face him and then slid off the bed. Now standing right in front of him — gaze unwavering and posture strong. Duncan knew you were one hell of a stubborn brat. He'd come across you before and he hated every bit of it.

You placed your hand on your hip.

A pose that struck him with a lash of irritation.

“It is a big bed and who are you to claim it first? Just because you're old, you think you can come in here and order me around?” Duncan’s eyes flared up. Nostrils expanding and the anger on his face was like embers swirling in lava.

He took a step forward. “Listen here, little girl. I might be old but you could never reach the amount of missions I have been successful at, nor do you know real struggle. Try sleeping in the Siberian Winds with no clothes, not a single thread to cover your damn body.”

You couldn't believe it.

He was rubbing his life experiences in your face as if he didn't himself chose to work for Damocles.

He became the black kaiser because he wanted to.

In the heat of the prickling anger, you also stepped forward. Your chest brushing against his. “You chose that for yourself but I won't let you choose the bed. Either we both sleep on it together or you take the fucking floor. There's no way in hell I'm sleeping on the floor.”

Duncan groaned.

He knew of the abundance stubbornness you possessed. There was no way you would back out, knowing that the way you got yourself snuck into his mission was by being completely adamant and demanding money if not allowed in.

But he too couldn't retreat, as his pride was on the line. “I could easily throw you on the floor, little girl.”

You snickered. “I'd like to see you try.”

Duncan stared at you. Drinking in your petite form and how small you were in comparison to him. Primal and dark was what stirred within the base of his abdomen when his mind finally grasped on how pathetic you were. Indeed you were a trained killer, amazing at martial arts too but Duncan knew against him you stood no chance.

Due to the diligence of your work and mission, Duncan never really focused on your features.

Your challenge nearly caused him to pick you up and toss you on the damn floor. Duncan raised his hand — fingers opening to wrap around your throat. The inside of his fingers brushed across your throat and you swallowed tightly, waiting for him to act out his aggression.

Duncan’s hand fell.

Your brow raised at his defeat. “Fine but you better keep at your side. If I see a damn leg or arm of yours on my side, you best believe I'm choppin’ it off.”

You dismissed him with your hand and Duncan’s hand formed into a fist. He really wanted to teach you a lesson. Hating how you paraded around Damocles like you were the only one, an egoistic but skilled assasian.

Just for the sake of the mission, Duncan let it go.

He settled on the bed on one side and watched you take out your own clothes from the duffle bag, making your way to the bathroom. In your hand were some panties and a loose, button up shirt. It was what you'd managed to pack in a hurry when you were told about your mission with Duncan.

Honestly, you sort of looked up to him.

No one was as heavily respected in Damocles as he was.

The Black Kaiser.

Aim perfect and sharp. He knew so many ways to discard the enemy and you'd only witnessed a few of them on this mission. It filled you with unbridled excitement when you'd finally landed yourself with him.

Your shower was relaxing. Warm water soothing all your strained muscles — the combat sure taking its toll on you. Slow hands caressing the skin, ridding of it any dirt that lingered. After done shampooing your hair and washing your body, you dried yourself and changed into your clothes.

The outfit was sultry to say the least but you knew Duncan was a man who would never find you attractive.

You knew of his irritation and annoyance aimed at you. It was honestly adorable at times how he got pissed, finding joy in pushing at his buttons.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, Duncan’s head snapped into your direction and his expression hardened. There you sauntered towards the bed with bare thighs and plush breasts peeking out from within the confines of your shirt.

He swallowed, his adjustment of himself not slipping past you.

You laid down on the bed and let out a sigh, finally finding peace. A good night’s rest was surely needed and this bed could provide it all. As you shifted to find a comfortable position, your shirt rose up in the friction exposing the black lining of your panties.

Duncan caught a glimpse of it.

His eyes darkening.

“Could've worn something warmer.” Duncan said, not looking at you. A scowl made its way across your face as you sat up, body strength on your palms. Leaning forward made your loose shirt fall by your sides, cleavage revealed.

“You got a problem with everything, old man.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Is that your only retort? Calling me old?” He snapped, staring at you. For a moment his gaze lingered to your lips and then back up to your face. Eyes filled to the brim with frustration and something – dark too. Lust or maybe anger.

“Are you not old? I bet you can't even get it up anymore.” You chuckled and that seemed to have crossed the line. Duncan reached for you, hand entangling in your hair. You felt him tug on the roots and pull you closer, face only a mere inches away from yours.

Your breath hitched.

Fighting him right now could get really dirty and you wanted to see how far Duncan was willing to go. His action only working to entice you. “You really should watch your damn mouth, little girl. I don't take nicely to such disrespect.”

You let out a chuckle. “Accept it. You cannot get it up, old man.”

Duncan’s fist tightened, nostrils flaring at your impolite words. You stared at him, your tongue slithering out like an enticing snake and running across the plump of your lips in an attempt to seduce him. “Or can you? I've heard older men fuck better. Is that true, Duncan?”

Duncan growled.

He tugged you down, to between his legs. Duncan nuzzled your face against the tent in his trousers. His bulge protruding as he shoved your face against it. “Does that look like I can't get it up, little girl?”

You shook your head slowly, hands hastily moving to pull down his trousers, paired with his briefs. His cock sprung out, nearly hitting you in the face and a soft gasp escaped your lips. It was big — fucking massive and you hadn't expected a man of Duncan's age to have such a big cock. Precum sheened over his tip.

It was thick and you knew the pain of the stretch inside you would be delicious. Veins ran from its base, disappearing underneath the pink tip. Your mouth watered at the sight, fingers gently wrapping around the girth.

A sweet hiss fell from Duncan’s lips.

You parted your lips and pushed out your tongue, running it in little licks over his tip, managing to taste his salty precum. Duncan’s breath grew heavier along each lick — chest moving in a slow rhythm.

His fingers still drowned in your hair. Duncan tugged harder, an indication for you to pick up. So you did, wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking it in, taking his fat cock all the way into your tight mouth until it had fully disappeared. You could feel it slip past the little uvula hanging in the air of your mouth, the warm flesh feeling like embers over your tongue.

“Jesus, you're pretty good at taking a cock.”

A giggle almost slipped — you attempted to breath through your nose and salvated around his throbbing dick. Your eyes met Duncan’s drowsy ones and as you whimpered, the vibrations from your throat shot straight through his abdomen.

His hands guided down your head furthermore, burying your nose into his neatly trimmed pubic hair.

Duncan pulled you up, only to slam his cock back inside your mouth. A repetitive action, his thighs shaking and flexing whenever the wetness and constriction of your throat welcomed him. Panting like a hungry beast, he fucked himself into your mouth.

Hips snapping up in desperate thrusts to gain his release.

“Good little girl. This is what your mouth is made for—what it's supposed to do.” He grunted when your struggles began in the form of small hands lightly punching at his thick thighs. “You're only a cocksucking little bitch.”

Tears stung your eyes from how horribly you gagged all over him. His tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat while moaning out loud. Divulging his pleasure to the people outside the hotel room.

Duncan loved the way you gagged around his cock. Tears sitting prettily in your beautiful eyes and he couldn't help but feel himself come near at the sight of you, this weak and pathetic underneath him. If he'd known sharing a bed would lead to this, the man would've given up in one single breath.

“Fuck—fuck. I'm close, I'm so fuckin’ close, my little girl. Keep suckin’ my cock like that, like the filthy bitch you are.” Duncan was vocal.

That was for sure and you enjoyed every bit of it.

After fucking your mouth for quite some time, Duncan finally shot loads of warm fluid down your throat. You struggled, kicking and thrashing everywhere but he didn't let go. He only continued to ride out his orgasm, feeling his own cock lubing up in the process of fucking his cum down your throat.

When he let you go, you promptly pulled back with a loud gasp. A sharp intake of oxygen. Cum and saliva dribbling in rivulets down your chin, tears wetting your cheeks. Duncan watched as your tits rose up and down, bouncing down slightly whenever you dragged in air.

Your eyes widened when you saw how Duncan’s soft cock suddenly became hard again, rising up. Curved and strong — tip caressing his abdomen. It was embarrassing for you because you'd called him out for not being able to get it up, here he was. In his late fifties, ready to fuck you dumb.

“Fuck you lookin’ at? Hop on.”

Your pussy throbbed. An insatiable ache that only his delicious cock could satisfy. You tossed one leg over his waist, while holding his cock with your hand. Aligning it at your hole, you finally sunk down on it. Duncan and you groaned in unison.

Feeling his cock enter you was such an indecipherable feeling. He filled you all the way, his tip reaching your womb almost. You placed both your palms over his chest, running your nails into the grey and black hair on his chest. Your lips parted, eyes rolled as you fully consumed him.

“Such a hungry fuckin’ pussy you've got. Taking me all the way in.” Duncan raised his hand and smacked your ass. “Cmon, move now.”

You obliged — beginning to grind your hips. In a slow back and forth rhythm. Duncan’s head was thrown back, pressed into the headboard while both his hands settled at your hips. Helping you grind down on his cock. You didn't even want to move, that's how much you fucking relished in him filling you up but then he lifted you, slamming you back down on his cock.

“Yeah, just like that.” He growled when you started to slide up and down. Hopping like a damn bunny in heat, feeling his veiny thick cock rub at your sensitive walls. Your whines were loud and prominent through the room as you held tightly onto his broad shoulders.

Lips agape and hair wet from the shower, it made you appear ten times prettier than you were. Duncan’s cock only hardened more, if possible inside you. The tremor in your whole frame was slowly becoming known to him and he scoffed, a breathty grunt leaving his lips. “Can't even fuck yourself on my cock and you have the audacity to speak to me with disrespect.”

“I'm sorry,” came a whimper from you. Nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, dragging them down into tiny slits.

Duncan helped you ride him, both his hands tugging at the flesh of your rear. He drove himself into you, in and out, in a fast rhythm. It was all too hot. Your body felt like it was boiling up and Duncan’s hands moved up to hold your breasts, thumbs flicking the nipples.

Dark brows furrowed and lips fallen apart, he let out aggressive grunts like some hounddog that couldn't have enough of you. “Pathetic whore. Jus’ a pathetic little whore who needed to be fucked. If—fuck,” he grunted, balls throbbing. “If you craved a cock this badly, you could've said so.”

Your eyes squeezed shut and walls gripped him like a vice. Duncan leaned forward and bit down on your shoulder, teeth digging into the skin hard enough to draw blood. He continued making you ride him, loving the way your tits bounced in his hands. A feeling driving him delirious.

The sound of skin against skin grew.

A languorous heat spread in your lower stomach. An indicator of your upcoming orgasm. Duncan’s hands kept playing with your soft mounds — his teeth littering bite marks at where your neck and shoulder became one and the way his hammered his cock inside your cunt was enough to push you over the edge.

Your arms flew to his shoulders, holding him tightly. “Duncan, ‘m gonna cum. ‘m so close, please.”

He looked up at you, loving the warmth you produced when you'd clung onto him like a koala to a tree. He pressed his lips over yours, something he himself was in shock at. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, sucking on it and as the kiss warmed, so did your cunt.

Duncan groaned as you slammed down on his cock repeatedly. A strong and soul chilling orgasm tearing through you. Eyes rolling back to your head and whimpers of sensitivity echoing in the room. He held you tightly as you came, enjoying how your little frame suffered from convulsions under his hold.

Duncan didn't give you a chance to even register your climax. He'd already began thrusting up your cunt, arms wrapped around your waist in a bone crushing hold. “Wait—wait! I still— oh my god.”

He didn't let you relax.

After all he too needed to cum.

Duncan could feel the throbbing sensation in his balls and the pulsating of his fat cock inside you. With a few, harsh strokes delivered inside your pussy, he released himself and your head buried in his neck from the feeling of being filled to the brim. His hot cum shot out, rope by rope, decorating the gummy walls of your pussy.

You could feel all of it.

Heightened sensitivity.

Your body went limp over his, leisurely dropping and Duncan held you. Both of you panted like wild animals who'd just got done finishing their preys. Your breathing was uneven and your throat was parched. Duncan heaved out, his low groans sending waves of sparks to your aching cunt again.

Thick fingers running up and down your bare back, with his other hand he caressed your hair. He wasn't rough when it came to sex but at times he felt like destroying your cunt whenever you'd speak to him in that stuck up, vicious little tone.

Duncan’s hand that played with your hair suddenly tightened, fingers pulling on the soft locks and you whimpered.

You were thrown off his lap on the bed. Appalled at his actions, you turned to look at him but Duncan only pressed your head further into the bed with his large hand. His other hand pulled your lower body, bending your knees.

“Wh-What are you doing?” You gasped out, the question coming out muffled.

Duncan let out a chuckle. “You thought we were done, hm? There ain't no way we're done with one round, little girl.”

You couldn't even resist as Duncan sunk his cock into you. Back arching and spine curving, a muffled whine of need and satisfaction echoing. He held you down as he thoroughly fucked you, his hips colliding with yours. Balls hitting the swollen stripe of your cunt.

“Look at you.” His bated breath increased your libido, as you were also speechless at his. Duncan was still ready to go on meanwhile you were struggling with staying still. Tired and drained from all his harsh strokes.

His grip on your hair tightened as he pulled you up to his chest, locking you firmly. Duncan pulled out then pushed right back into you, his tip reaching your womb. A small bulge forming on your stomach everytime he slammed back into you. Tears of overstimulation dropped like pearls on your face and Duncan moaned in your ear.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He praised.

Your walls clenched.

Duncan hissed and felt his strokes become steady, dragging across your spongy walls to feel them. Then he climaxed inside you, filling you up again once more. This time his cum dripped out of you, making a mess on his own cock and your thighs. Pussy glistening from the slick, cum and your own climax.

Duncan pulled out and pushed you back down on the bed.

He also collapsed next to you.

Chest rising up and down, breath a broken rhythm. You sniffled into the pillows, thighs shivering the overstimulation you'd suffered at the hands of Duncan. He wasn't as cruel as you'd depicted him to be. Duncan reached for you, pulling you closer to him and wrapping an arm around your waist.

His large arm covering the expanse of your chest.

“Sorry, little girl. You piss me off a lot.” He whispered and you flipped to face him, burying your face in his chest. “And I'll continue to piss you off.”

Despite the fact that he'd pretty much blown your back out twice, you still held on to your defiant traits. He let out a laugh, reaching over to grab a cigarette and light it up.

Dragging in a smoke, he brought the cigarette to your lips and your parted them, allowing him to settle it between them. You pursued his actions and released the smoke through your nostrils.

“That feels good.”

Duncan smiled. “Better than my cock?”

“Oh shut up.”

[logansdoe]

Duncan Vizla sitting on the table by the window. The steam of his coffee sometimes fogging up his glasses that sat perched on the bridge of his nose when he took a sip.

His eyes drifting away to the white snow surrounding the cabin. Then he spotted, you. You were such a beautiful thing. Quiet but sweet, gentle but oh so alluring.

The way your skirt would fall mid calf, your cardigan hanging on your torso to battle the cold threatening to touch your skin.

Duncan would be lying if he said he did not think about you since you moved to the cabin next doors. He would be lying if he said he didn't think about your pretty hands wrapped around his cock. The moans you'd let out as he had his way with you.

Of course, those are just thoughts whenever he imagined his hand was your sweet pussy. Closing his eyes to imagine that small bite you'd have on your lips in concentration or the way you'd frown to look for things in detail.

His gaze broke from your figure as he took another sip of his coffee. The bitter taste making his mouth salivate more. Or perhaps, it's you.

Because you have him on a leash without even knowing his name.

a/n; going through Duncan brainrot and it's heavy. Too heavy.

[first-edition]

Can I pleeeeease 🙏 have a Duncan Vizla smut where he has a huge breeding kink and reader has a choking kink. So he's choking her while "breeding" her, and she completely blissed out when she orgasms. So she's like fucked dumb and Duncan gets worried. So he gives tooth rotting aftercare.

Your Wish is my command oh kind soul.

Chocking, pin v- unprotected, fem readerserious after care teehee

“elsker” danish word for love

SMUT SMUT SMUT AND NOTHING BUT! Minors do not fucking read this i will sue you

The way Duncan devours you. Every inch ever minute detail of your body. His grunts in your ear as he fucks your life away only making you clench around his cock tighter.

How did you get here? You dont even remember not with your lover shoved in between your thighs and fucking the lights outta your head. The last thing you do rembering is his hands on yours in the kitchen. Now your half way off you bed as he rails you into the mattress.

Your breasts voice as he thrusts himself up into you. Each conflict forcing a pornographic moan out of your mouth. Your eyes roll back in your head as he grips your thighs, one leg strung over his shoulder the other wrapped around his waist keeping him close to you. You were long passed gripping onto him now you gripped the pillow under you head screaming both out and into the plush material that keeps you from banging your skull against the headboard.

“F-fu-u.. d-Duncan.. ah!” You moan out dribbling words barely being able to form half of one. Your pulsing puffy pussy dripping from his and your shared cum. The amount of stamina this man has for you is otherworldly. Most people down in town always give you looks from the age gap between you and your man. Wondering the most private things about you too.

‘How long would he last with you?’

‘How does he get it up?’

If only they could see you both right now you would answer those questions with out even speaking.

You scream out toes curling as you experience another orgasam a number you lost count of so many ago. Duncan grunts as you grip you walls around him only prompting him to fuck you harder, faster, better. If better is even possible. Every time you have sex he fucks you like he’s missing something trying to save a peice of you for later every time, like the pie he orders in the diner almost every night.

His hand wraps around your neck not to kill you like he would a job, but to satisfy you more.

“Ahh f-fuu” you trail off mouth opening agape as the pure over stimulation causing your legs to shake.

“Fuck yeah.” He speaks. Duncan isn’t usually one for verbalizing his pleausre but when it comes to letting him raw dog you until youre a babbling mess he will not shut up.

“Im gonna fill this tight little pussy, you want that? You want me to budge the fuck outta you- argh.” He moans out holding your neck.

“Ngh…y-ye..yesss. Ah- ah- Ngh-“ your fucked out words barley make it passed your bitten lips.

“Fuck cum again, elsker.” When he changes to his native language, danish. You know you’ve got him pussy whipped. He goes on and on in Danish and several neighbor languages about how much he wants to fill you. Make you swollen with his. Put many babies inside you and have you waddle around the town so then everyone knows what hes capable of.

Your eyes cross up ward tounge handing out as he continues to annihilate your cunt. Perfectly fucked into another realm and just wanting for more. Your legs seize up when his thumb presses to your clit circling and flicking. It dosnt take long for the stimulation to take effect and a gush of arousal spews from your cunt making you babble out his name and other profanities associated with the pleasures he’s causing you.

“Fuck! Yes baby! Make a mess.” He groans as he forces his hips flush with yours. The head of his cock pushing against your cervix and possibly even deeper as he releases his last load, of what he can tell you can bare, into your cunt.

He lets go of your throat after a few more rough thrusts and kisses your face and jaw. Gazing his lips over your neck the marks for the hickies he left previously.

Your legs shake and you light twitch as the pur and utter sensitivity between your things courses through you. Duncan carefully pulls out of you making sure to be carful of your state.

“So fucking full my love.” He chuckles gathering the dripping cum and shoving it back. Into you with his fingers.

“You alright elsker?” He asks lovingly as he pulls his fingers out and looks to you. You dont answer as you feel numb your vision clouded with tears and little silver sparks flying through your eyes.

“Y/n? My love?” He asks again you dont reply once more only to smile and lick your lips.

“Shit..” Duncan moves up to your face cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“elsker, answer me.” He demands you giggle lightly eyes wandering.

He curses to him self out of relief and worry before getting up and walking to the bathroom. He turns the water on waiting for it to heat up. He quickly cleans himself off before dousing a wash cloth in the hot water and then taking it back to you once rung out a bit.

“Can i clean you up?” He asks leaning over you to look you in the face. You nod slightly.

“Good. You coming back to me then?” He chuckles. He runs the cloth down your body to your thighs clean the inner then moving back to your crotch being carful to softly clean you up as he knows just how sensitive you are at the current moment.

When hes done he places the cloth on the side table and slips on his boxers. He picks you up carefully and walks you both to the guest bedroom so he can take the sheets off your bed to clean later.

“Duncan.” You ask him as he carefully sets you onto the bed.

“There she is..fucked you too hard huh?” He asks you shake your head. You hold out your arms for his wrapping them around his neck before you both share a kiss the same undertone that got you in the pervious situation. He places his knee on the bed unaware that it’s between your leg causing his lower thigh to brush against your core.

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you pull back erking at the sensation. You curl up closing your legs an closing your eyes the sensitivity slowly disaperating from your nerves.

“Sorry.” He says. You shake your head signally it’s okay, not nessisarly his fault, it is.

“I’ll draw you a bath.” He says. Duncan get up and goes to the bathroom in the guest room and begins to fill up the tub once more waiting for the water to heat up. Once full he exits and goes back to you. Your nude frame sitting on the bed perfect to his veiw but he knows if he were to be tempted by your beauty once more you’d kill him.

“Come on.” He says helping you up. Your legs give out from under you only prompting him to easily pick you up in his arms and carry you the rest of the way.

He sets you gentally in the bath water exactly how you like it showering you in kisses and words of affirmation. He sits on the tiled floor running another cloth over your shoulders helping you.

Once done he helps you dry and dress before quickly leaving you to take a short shower dry and dress himself. He joins you in bed and pulls you close to him speaking to you about how much he loves you and how good you were for him. You eventually fall asleep holding him back. He watches you for a moment before sleep take him over as well.

I hope you liked this. Duncan vizla is daddy and will be the father of my children!! I swear to god. If anyone has any more requests feel free to leave them in the comment section or send a message like this one. I’ll write pretty much anything but i do have my boundaries.

[hobisfavoritespritecan]

Tourniquet

DUNCAN VIZLA X READER

⚠️ Warnings: Uhhh kinda extreme gore, I mean I definitely go into intense detail about some of the way these people die so probably don't read this if you're squeamish, blood, death, murder, language, mentions of drugs and alcohol, I think that's it but yeah ⚠️

Duncan comes to save you and risks his life in the process.

Duncan had originally wanted nothing more than to retire from this god-forsaken line of work he'd been in for over thirty years. To succumb fully to the relaxation that was unemployed bliss, somewhere far off in the lost woods with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Maybe he'd try for another dog again, although he wasn't too lucky with his PTSD responses around Rusty. Wherever in the world he may be or whomever he'd be with, he just wanted some goddamn peace and quiet, thankyouverymuch.

Today, he was not so lucky. Of course, he had to take the one job offer to end his career with a bang and to coagulate all of the money he'd originally been promised to begin with. One job after another, one shot fired towards a man's head and a stapler gun to his ankles, all led him here. At the front of this house. On a rescue mission. Which would then lead to a hitman mission. Obviously. Unfortunately.

Duncan sighed and took in the landscape with his one good eye, courtesy of the copious amount of torture he'd pushed through over the past month. Although his wounds were still healing and he felt their burn underneath the folds of his fabric coat, he had to act fast as there was no time to waste. He needed to put his life on the line once again; as he had for so many years working as a hitman. But now, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. A reward to his revenge. Nothing that was false promises of money or strippers or nights out at the bar that would only situate him for a week before he grew bored. No, at the end of this mission was the promise of your safety and the potential of the two of you living this retired life he'd dreamt of for so long.

He only had to kill 30+ men and his former "mission mates" before getting to you and fleeing this Damocles shit for good.

Easy, in theory. In actuality, he was probably going to end up dead. Unless he could control himself through his rage and use it as an adrenalin boost rather than a distraction to his plan.

The mansion was huge and lavish in comparison to the wood houses Duncan had come to love in Montana. It was almost entirely frivolous; the magnitude of Blut's weath, all gained from those who did his dirty work and never out of his own aspirations.

Seeing the coast was fairly clear, he crafted a plan in his head as to how he was going to make it in and out of the place unscathed. Two guards to his left on the rooftop, facing outwards. Meaning that there must be at least another two on the other side, not knowing from which direction he'd come. Another one in the upper right window that could easily be taken out with a sniper. A few fifteen or so on the ground in hidden positions, all of which he knew considering he used to work for the damn place. Assuming Blut's usual stupidity would mean that the plans for an attack on Damocles would be unchanged, minus those who were inside of the place itself.

Time for action. He took off his heavy coat and draped it on the tree nearest to him so as not to be weighed down by the material. His thick wool sweater would be more than enough to keep him warm, alongside his steel-toed boots. Underneath his coat and concealed by his initial wardrobe was a now visible belt with two loaded guns on either side. His hand was clad with brass knuckles and he had a knife in his boot, only for an extreme situation. Worse comes to worse, he still had that piece of shrapnel under the second layer of his skin from one of his older missions he could cut out if he really had to. Eyepatch in place and hair tied in an up-do, he was ready to start shooting people.

Hey, maybe if they were all dead he'd finally get his $8 million he'd been promised.

It happened as quickly as the next snowflake hit the ground; Blut's mansion was under attack. They'd been expecting him, but as he was called The Black Kaiser, he was the best of the best. He knew their ins and outs and was now thankful he kept a friendly but protective distance from everyone while he was in the org so that they wouldn't know the specificities for his own attack. One skillful shot to the top left roof was enough to pierce through the necks of both the men standing atop it, one falling off after the other and landing on the ground with a thick thud. Blasted through arteries and a fuckton of blood pooled out the edges from where they'd fallen, creating intricate patterns on the wintery terrain and leaving giant stains on the sides of the building.

Now understanding their mission was a go, the man from the window received the hint and withdrew himself from the window, racing back inside most likely to tell Blut about the outside commotion. No matter. He'd take his time to paint the entirety of the green estate red with the fallen victims of Damocles.

He'd been right about the guards from the top of the building being on the other side, except there were three instead of two. They rushed around looking for the potential places Duncan could be hiding, so as to scope him out first and be the ones to receive the praise from their fat ass nepo-baby boss. They must all be younger and have no idea the amount of years and experience he'd had in this industry because Duncan was in plain fucking sight with his guns readied in both hands.

"Bye." He said, and shot them at the same time, making two of the guards meet the same tragic fate as their friends. One, two, they hit the ground with more thuds and guts, spreading their entrails further out than most people would think the human body could reach. One of their intestines had wrapped around the edges of the window panes, a man still alive wishing he wasn't. He was screaming from the upper floor awaiting his fall as he was held up by the gaping wound in his stomach where Duncan had shot him once more. The last guard at the top of the roof looked down in horror and jumped himself, taking his own life and going limp once his neck made a loud snap against the pavement under the soft snow.

PTSD flashbacks edged the corners of Duncan's one-eyed vision, trying their best to stop him as he witnessed the horror of human death via his hands. He was used to this feeling, of wanting to curl up and revert into himself, to never see anyone or anything again and be tortured as payment for his crimes. He was just a man, not a deity. Why should he choose- or rather- listen to who chooses who should meet an untimely death? What makes him above the others within his species?

Because of their frequent visits, he shut his visions down and went soulless. That was the only way to truly do his job and to continue to do it well within the moment and not fight with the side that was desperate to live in peace and an understanding of humanity. He was a pacifist at heart, truly. And even though it went against his psychological beliefs of the world, he had to pretend that intentions outweighed his actions in the sense of his killing and this mission; that getting to you was worth the rampant murderous spree of all these people, paid by their boss just as he was to do the same tasks he's doing.

Burrowing into himself, he rolls to the nearest icicle filled tree, grabbing the man who was hidden here with the gun and twisting his neck until he heard the sounds of life escaping his throat. He discarded his now empty gun for the one in the holster of the other man, making sure it was fully loaded before proceeding to also extract the menthols from the upper part of the stranger's jacket.

"Mange Tak." He said, Danish for thank you. He could have a little class while he was at it.

Noticing the tree he was under and the man whom he'd just killed, Blut was either following their Five-Ten plan or the Outskirts plan, both of which were effective in combat. The Five-Ten plan was created by Vivian herself meaning that there would be five on the perimeter of the compound, five on the rooftop, and ten within the building before whomever was entering made it inside. Then, after getting through the frontlines of security (if they made it that far), whomever was infiltrating would meet the guards who allowed their cohorts to be killed as preparation time for the main show.

The Outskirts plan, however, would mean that every man who wasn't directly appointed as an assassin to Blut's side would be out in the fields which were now covered in snow, using the trapdoors hidden in the earth to prepare their weapons for combat and kill the intruder as he (or she) approached the compound.

He was going to take his bets with the Five-Ten.

Heart barely going over an easy 65bpm, he calmly readied his guns for the next part of the infiltration where a few other guards would pop up and flock to his sides, hoping that they might catch him off-guard. Which they wouldn't. Another few shots took care of those and as he wiped the blood off his face from the splatter of one of them, he lit a cigarette and started walking towards the front of the compound, taking his chances that he knew which plan they had chosen considering he'd killed most of the other ones when he'd killed Vivian during their surprise attack not even hours before he got here.

Stepping over the walkway and opening the doors to the inside, he'd been proven correct in his intuition and flanked to the wall, keeping himself out of sight to those in the building. There were three open entryways leading from the main hall to the upstairs where the pig himself resided. Which meant around six of those corners could be another guard and he'd have to take his shots carefully, unless he wanted to engage in hand-to-hand combat which didn't always end well when your opponent had a firearm. He checked his inventory quickly.

Six bullets left. He'd have to be stingy about it.

Holding the trigger and aiming the barrel towards his right, he took a shot through the ornate pillars holding up the entryway's corbel arch, a bullet forcing itself through the small opening in which the wall met the pillar. He heard an "oomph!" which he gathered triumphantly signified his tactic of approach was also correct.

Can't teach an old dog new tricks.

Rolling to the floor into the room from whence the sound came, he staggered over to the next wall and shot through the entryway, shooting the man in the room in the leg. Fuck. Slight misstep on his account (or the other guy's considering he no longer had the bottom half of his leg). He dodged the man's bullets and lifted one of the cylindrical vases decorating the hallway and bashed it into the man's skull, once, twice, and then dropping it as he watched blood ooze from his nose. A sound from behind him meant another and he was met with hands wrapping around his throat and a gun being pressed to his temple.

This man was much bigger in stature than Duncan, but it was no matter. He swiftly acted as though he were aiming for his opponent's side as they would have practiced for upon initiation training. Seeing the man respond confidently to where he'd presumed Duncan would strike meant he'd left his nuts unguarded to which Duncan kicked in with precision. The man screamed, letting go of his counterpart and went to hold himself in anguish. Duncan mercilessly grabbed the weapon from his hands and shot through the one holding his injured manhood, shooting off his limb and probably the area underneath.

A few more men appeared from the entryways, and, after killing them all with a few more bullets than needed considering he had two guns now and maybe a hit to the face with his brass knuckles; he made his way to the top of the stairs, ready for whatever else would come. He could take on twenty more of them before expressing any ounce of fatigue as he'd trained his whole life for missions like this.

However, it was just you in the room.

Almost entirely taken aback by the slumped position you were in bound to that chair in the middle of the room, Duncan froze in his advances. He didn't let his guard down, no, but he took careful detail to the contortions of your face and the state of your being from which he could make out from this distance. Your long hair fell from the roots of your head which seemed to still be intact (thank god), but your skin was an ashy grey and blood had littered your hands and chest area. It was deep and dark and so red, redder than he'd felt he'd ever seen before and the PTSD was back, clawing at his chest and vision through his one good eye, all of his labors seemingly returning to dust. If you were dead, it would be the death of all deaths despite having only known you for a short period of time.

It had been the way you'd entered his house for the first time that caught him winded, hands tucked into the pockets of your long coat that kept you warm and smelling like the vanilla candles that littered your house. Your flushed cheeks from being out in the cold. Your smile as he'd offered you a sip of his hot chocolate, only to find out it had an added hint of whiskey. Your face when he'd kissed you for the first time. The hug you'd given him after.

It took fifty years of his life to finally admit it to himself and to anyone else who'd listen to the raspy notches in his throat as he exclaimed that he was, indeed, in love. And it was, indeed, with you.

"Something caught your eye, Kaiser?" Blut's agonizing and cruel voice caught the echos of the marble flooring and flooded the room, signaling his emergence from the darkness. He was wearing his stupid, douchebaggy jacket with a shit eating grin nearly reaching the corners of his eyes. This was the man whom he'd worked for all these years, pledged his loyalty to despite having no ounce of previous companionship with him. The one who owed him $8 million and the one who'd sent out his own personal hitman army to kill Duncan and get away with it so he would no longer be a liability to the company.

"She'd better be alive, or I'll skewer your head on that fucking Damocles sword you have above the mantle." He nearly spat out, taking his time to enunciate the weight of every word that escaped his lips, forcing them out in such an anger that anyone would feel in the depths of their bones. Blut, however, could care less.

"Oh she's alive." Made sure to keep her that way for you." He said, sauntering towards her seemingly lifeless body and tilting her chin upwards to finally reveal her face. "Thought she could use some plastic surgery though, don't you think Duncan?"

It was as if a knife had pierced his chest then and there. Your face, which had been absolutely perfect upon anyone's first glance, now was missing an eye on the opposite side of his own. Flesh had been carved out around it, which meant it would leave a scar possibly even nastier than his. He wanted to throw up at the idea someone could've taken something so important to you and destroy a piece of your life forever. He then thought maybe that was how his victims' families felt, learning that their fathers or brothers had passed due to the brutality of murder.

But you were still beautiful. And he had to save you still.

"Duncan... you're not responding?" Blut taunted with his awful voice, ringing the question in his ears and twisting the metaphorical knife even further into his chest. Duncan knew he'd need to snap out of the hold of his traumas and force himself to swallow anything else other than the situation at hand in order to save you...and himself.

"You're fucking dead. Don't you fucking touch her." Duncan said, grabbing the hefty sword of the supposed Damocles mansion from the mantle near him, letting the blade drag on the floor before discarding his gun entirely and picking up the sword. It had to have been at least four feet long with a shiny hilt and an even shinier blade which would be stained with the blood of the man before him in the time it'd take to say the sword's name. He would avenge this piece of your life that had been wrongfully taken from you.

A little less smug now, Blut reached into his pocket and withdrew a gun. "Y-y-you fucking stay back Kaiser! I won't hesitate to blow your head off!!"

"Where are your other men? Or are you truly so out of options that you're here alone?" Duncan growled, his discarded gun going into the fireplace, and, with a loud boom, caught the floor and curtains surrounding it on fire. The flames twisted and danced against in the reflection of his newfound weapon, a proper visual to the fire that licked his veins with the rage he felt. He continued his progression to your chair, sparing you a softer glance, before focusing everything onto the man before him who was now cowering by the window on the wall.

It was as if he were a child who'd been told hiding under a blanket would save him from the monsters under his bed and in his closet. He shrunk into the glass and tried his best to aim his gun with a shaking hand at Duncan's head. Duncan was now eye-to-eye with the man whom he'd fucking rip to shreds faster than any job he'd done as a hitman in his life.

"Blut...you're not responding?" He sneered, dodging the bullet that flew from his opponent's barrel. He lifted the sword and thrust it from the nape of his neck to the back of his skull, brains flying out against the widow he was in front of. Blood spurt from the open wound like a the lake outside of Duncan's house in Montana, where he'd resided before all this madness. Eyes bulged out of his skull with the optic nerves sliding down the forefront of his face and falling just above his mouth. Duncan dismantled the head from his torso still attached to the blade and spear tossed the sword of Damocles out the window and onto the grounds below, the sharp end getting stuck in the ground and displaying Blut's upside down head like a totem pole.

"'Suck my fucking dick."

Duncan freed you from the chair, taking you outside and down the winding trail, mansion burning to the ground in the distance. Back to Montana where now, at last, he would fucking retire.

[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 :)))

[fawnning]

RED RIDING HOOD, duncan vizla x camille!reader

t.g: daddy-daughter stepcest, smut, reader calls duncan dad multiple times during sex, piv, oral, squirting, creampie, mentions of suicide, daddy kink (wc2.6k not proofread)

a.n: i had three hours of sleep and a dream, mini celebration now that my exams are over, no lurking please give me that interaction, minimal dialogue because i say so.. also hi mads fans.. no hannibal content anytime soon from me imsorry..

It's been like what, five- six years since he's taken you in? Duncan took up a gentleman's handshake with the devil, swearing to never grow close to anyone, to let another person bare the dread of living in constant fear. Yet he has you, up in the cabin where you could be mistaken for one of the lambs, blending in the pale, blinding snow whenever you wear that coat, consisting of wool and Duncan's blood, sweat and tears whilst he watches over you like a wolf, it doesn't help with those fucking husky teeth of his (your favourite quality of him), that snarl whenever he instructs you to tuck yourself away into one of the four corners of the cabin for every creak he hears in this already old, already rotting cabin.

Five years further from tragedy, every second closer to Duncan. That oath was long forgotten since he's met you, turned to fucking ash. Took you under his wing to raise you right, "proper training for the real world," he says. Whatever that means. He swore he'd never let a thing harm you, even if it meant sacrificing himself and his morals. He'd never expect you to repay him, it's not your responsibility to bare, at least it wasn't when you had to lay by his side for warmth, now you've grown accustomed to it, to admit it is one thing, to like it is another.

"Lunch," He mumbles, placing a hearty bowl of goulash paired with a side of mashed potatoes, delectable. "Specially for my girl," He ruffles your hair as you reach for the utensils across the table. It wasn't a lot to work with, yet he's given you the best. He displaces the resting cigarette from his mouth down to the stove, letting it light the butt up, he takes a long drag to recharge, closing his eyes as he enjoys his dinner. You chow down at the food like you always do, he gazes at you longingly, like he always does. This time it's completely different.

He breaks past your personal space to the dish he's prepared, his palm rests against the back of your hand, your wood chopping scars look like papercuts compared to his, laboured and scathed to give you a comfortable life.

You gasp, feeling he cold air around you grow humid, eyes widening. Not his first time expressing affection, no. Not his first time making you feel this dizzy, either. Sure, hypothermia causes you to see stars, just not the ones Duncan causes, ones like sparks from a gunshot. He savours a bit of the goulash, eyes shut to reminisce all his warmest memories, occasional drives downtown, reading a book by the fireplace, hugging you for comfort.

His pupils dilate, he flinches slightly as he breaks away. There is no fucking way in Hell he's even thinking about that last part in a "sweet", "happy and homey" way. No, he's finding solace in fisting his dick while you laid in bed by him, clueless of his intentions, expressions - the things he's wanted to do to you.

He rests on the swingset he built you the same day he's seen you circle on one of those old-ass catalogue books. By now, he's on his second stick, reaching into his pockets to find a light.

You join him after a while, "I did the dishes," You tremble at the cold, always a first time experience with it, Duncan pushes away before he cups his hand into a tight fist, his nails dig at his skin, accepting his fate. He can't stray past an already remote distance, any more and the bad guys will set out to get you, that's all you know, it's all you've heard. "It was amazing, thanks, Dad." Now you're exchanging roles, you break past his personal space to lean by his shoulder, you reach into your pocket, the lighter crackles as you light his cigarette. It'd be wrong to admit that he's proud of you, not like gentle parenting is in his cards anyways. "Mm," He hums, pleased. "Go inside, I'll join you in a bit." He instructs, you do as you're told, the weight of the snow dips, growing shallow for every step you take back to the cabin.

Duncan is a simple man — he's content living the way he is, been years since he's fucked, let alone get a girl to moan his name, it'd been a shocker to know that he can still get his dick up, it took him long enough, just until he'd met you. He likes to watch from afar, he watches you at a comfortable distance to not harm you, to watch you cluelessly angle yourself in positions where he could just rip off that nightdress of yours, get you to transition from "Dad," to "Daddy." Zero to a hundred in his head.

He puts the cigarette out, flicking it down to the snowy compound. He walks back to the cabin, pinching the bridge of his nose, he deserves a comeuppance for thinking like this, gun to the temple if you ever resented him for touching you. He shuts the door, loud enough for you to hear it.

The pale moonlight transpires after ages of hiding behind the foggy clouds. Duncan feels odd tonight, especially since you've debuted a cute minidress, it's a warm night in the cabin, the fireplace rages with the mixture of coal and wood burning. You head past the corner of the cabin to show Duncan, hair slithering to your shoulder as you give him a twirl.

He's watching like a rabid dog, it doesn't show past his mind, but holy fuck, it's like the devil's playing mind tricks on him. You would've expected a better response from him, annoyed, you inch closer to Duncan, resting on his lap, he feels as your panty clad ass rubs against the fabric of his pants, his throat bobs in fear.

"Dad, don't you ever feel alone up here?" You ask out of curiosity.  He can't just tell you as it is, right? Porn is a passable material here, as taboo as it is, no hooker is willing to freeze her tits off for a measly $20. "Yeah, it does — nothing I can do about it, either." He jokes, despondent as he grows older. "No one wants to fuck an old man, either." He lays all his cards on the table. "Everyone? Is that true, dad?" You play dumb, literally, it's not just for sure, you're just a very speculative girl with zero context clues. "Yeah, everyone, now go to bed," He retorts gruffly, "I'll be with you in a minute." You don't give up, yet you listen to him like you always do.

You hop on the bed like a bunny, inundated with the amount of blankets and throw-overs, you cast some of the fabric aside, leaving room for Duncan to lay closer to you. Just as you finish doing so, he softens the contrast of the lamp, strips himself until he's just wearing his sweats, he joins you, only at a distance, feasible enough for you to savour him, imagining your nails scratch at his back, tracing red marks over the ones that have just healed.

And so you do. You trail your nail over the hump of his back, slithering over his neck, you press kisses at his scruffy beard, feeling the hairs nick at your skin, your thigh rides up to his waist, "Jesus," He moans, manhandling you with ease, he lays flat, gets you to lay where his knees are, just past his dick, hard, it's hitting his stomach like it owes him money. You bite your lip at the sight, no fucking way you've been sleeping next to him without curiosity spilling and sticking like honey on the sheets, memory foam holds a heavy impression.

"Dad," You wail,

"What was that?"

"Dad," Once more.

He smacks the flesh of your ass, groping it to soothe the scarlet brand.

"Daddy," You sob out.

"That's what I thought." Honest to him, he hates it, hates the thought of it, hates the way they do it in porn, it's so forced, not even the same nose, same eyes, and they've got spirit. You definitely climbed up the ranks tenfold, nice to hear it come from you, nice to hear how reassuringly gross and fucked up his actions are, nice to hear how you reciprocate.

He slips his hand past the band of his sweats, lowering it as you scratch his stomach out of a gruelling mix of desire and fear. He interlocks the fingers of his free hand with yours, off a tangent to reassure you.

His cock slaps at the base of your pussy, he hums keenly, teasing you at your clothed clit, you bite your lip out of hunger. He looks up at you, savouring his little girl's movements, her miniscule reactions — twitching, moaning, shivers as he peels the fabric, pulls it to the side, you shift your hips slightly upwards, giving him more room to slide his dick in, which he does inadvertently, you're just too wet, Duncan is caught off guard, a breathy moan escapes his lips as well as yours. "Fuck," a small giggle at the end of his cue.

Up, down, up, maybe move into a more comfortable position, this one is kicking your ass, you lay by the flat side of his palms, he caresses your waist as he guides you, "Like that, you're doing so good," he praises, it's genuine, like all the times he's been proud of you.

"Dad, dad," You mewl, Duncan's eyes flutter shut, he's shocked to find that you take him so easily, more than that, he hates that he loves hearing you call him that — he does deserve a bullet through that skull of his. "Like that, sweetie?" You lose your composure. From holding his hands, you slip past it, luckily enough you manage to position your hands by either sides of his head, good enough for him. The two of you gain momentum, Duncan thrusts, the fervor piles on. The sounds of moans and skin slapping hits the air, it echoes like the howling winds right outside.

"Kiss me," He orders, you oblige needlessy. You sink in closer to Duncan, kissing him hungrily, he laps at your tongue with primal desire, lips pressing, his hand is at the back of your head. reeling you in closer to savor you a little more. He thrusts harder, the momentum is steady, but he's cracking at your cervix, Duncan evidently grows closer, you push away, "Dad— need to pull out," God knows where you've learned to talk that way, you didn't need it, the birds and the bees thing happened once yet you know your lines better than a pornstar. "You're– fuck, you're right," It just occured to him, yet he doesn't even act on it, pulling you closer like he's begging the inexistent gods to impregnate you, maybe one or two more rounds until it takes.

Duncan grows weak which makes it easier for you to pull out, you watch as his cum rivulet down your thighs. Breath heaving, you strip the dress off of yourself, it has no use, could look better clean instead of being tossed to the side after Duncan would very likely jerk off to it, you like that more than you'd admit, but you're better off with Dad cumming in and on you instead.

You lay on your side of the bed, by now Duncan grows hard again and your eyes widen, body jolting slightly, he grips at your wrists, cuffing you lightly, he pulls you to the end of his side of the bed, by the fireplace where you glow like ember. He gets on both knees, "Dad wants to eat you out, sweetheart, can he?" He questions, not like he's gonna take no for an answer, even if you're weary, you doubt this would resurface, so you oblige. He watches you nod, teeming with excitement, it doesn't show, a common occurance.

The broad of his tongue savours you past your flesh, like a sapling, you tremble as he spits on your clit, slick coating your walls as he repeatedly bullies your poor, swollen pussy, it's overstimulated, yet you don't give out. "Dad," You whine, "it's too much, gonna cum," He won't complain if you do, it's unjust if you don't.

"Look at me," You're slightly dumbfounded, mind evidently hazy, your lower lip is left hanging, drool flows, the thick of it hangs at the end, shaking with constant momentum, Duncan orders once more, "Look at me when you cum, got it?" You stare at him, heavy lidded, he watches as your breathing grows more laboured, he curls his tongue inside you, hands digging at either sides of your waist til' you're nearly bleeding, your eyes widen, body convulsing as your insides grip onto the flesh of his tongue like a vice, the other hand snakes to your chest, thumb swirling over your pebbled tits, sending your brain into overdrive, your eyes roll back, body shuddering, pressure whips at your clit, and you squirt — you twitch, over and over until you have to physically wrestle yourself out of Duncan's reach. He didn't want to scare you off, but he doesn't blame himself for wanting another selfish taste.

"You squirted," He states the obvious, it's bitter to say in reality, yet he relishes the sight before him."Your first one too," He gets back to the bed, you nod in embarrassment as you shift back to your side, "The bed," you point out meekly, "Don't worry about it," He insists, "Definitely not going to be our first time, get some rest." He mumbles to himself, resting facing the end of the bed.

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Ducan "Donut" Vizla🍩

Disclaimer: stories are fictitious and should not be taken literally, the behavior is entirely imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

Updated & repaired: 16/07/2023 (if a story won't load or something else, please message me and let me know)

MAIN MASTERLIST

JOIN US TODAY. BE A DUNCAN HOE!

Fluff🌺  Angst 🌩️ Smut❤️‍🔥

5/7 STORIES

5 Types Of Kisses🌺

MY HEADCANONS W/ OTHER CHARACTERS:

Speak In Flowers 🌺 Flowers speak their own words and show their actions. And your man loves to speak it out loud.

Visiting Your Hometown 🌺 how would your boy act when you drag him along to your hometown

Helping You To Accept Your Stretch Marks 🌺your boy helps you accept your beautiful stretch marks as they are...pure perfection

Explaining To Your Man Kdramas🌺I (V) wrote small drabbles that paired my favorite men and dramas that I absolutely love

Dating A Tattoo Artist 🌺 being a tattoo artist and your boyfriend being part of it

When Tough Times Occur 🌺Life itself can be a pain and with its obstacles, it can seem impossible to overcome it but that’s what makes us stronger as people.

Someone Rubs You The Wrong Way With... 🌺 how would your man protect you when someone doesn’t mind your business

Having A Shower ❤️‍🔥having a shower with your man sounds like heaven right?!

One Thing He Loves About You (Physically Or Mentally)🌺 the title spoils the ending a bit

No Nut November ❤️‍🔥in the glory of No Nut November, you make a bet with your liver saying if they fail you cuff them and use them to your liking but if you lose they get to fulfil one of their fantasies. And you are keen on it to make them lose, by any means.

ASKS

My Saviour 🌺protective! Duncan Vizla? Maybe they capture her and he’s ready to wreak havoc upon them? Hurt/comfort with a bit of makeup smut?

Taking Off Their S/O's Makeup 🌺 (Could you do Duncan vizla,the joker and whoever else you’d like.)taking off their s/o makeup after they come from a nightout because they are to drunk to do it themselves 💛

Stressed Student 🌺 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?

You Are My Protector 🌺 do you think he’d appreciate someone being gentle with him and spoiling him with compliments? I just imagine him getting a praise kink whenever his woman kisses his scars 😚💗

Worship Me 🌺 What about Duncan doing some exhausting teasing foreplay the whole day before having sex?😍😍

Kicking in the process... 🌺 Duncan Vizla x Pregnant Reader

October Drive ❤️‍🔥I think daddy Duncan deserves some smut, would you be an angel you are and write something, maybe some August heat car ride or smth!

Telling Him You Are A Virgin ❤️‍🔥 Ok here me out 😂 virgin X Duncan, she constantly flirts with him but doesn’t want a one night stand with him. It shocks him when she says she’s a virgin and only does long term

White Shorts VS. Duncan Vizla ❤️‍🔥Innocent girl + short shorts = very pent up Duncan = very rough sex

Period Sex ❤️‍🔥What do you think about Duncan smut while his girl is on period? I bet he's up to this shit👀👀

Duncan Pleaser ❤️‍🔥 Omg give us more swearing daddy Duncan pleasing his woman😍😍

Outdoor Quickie ❤️‍🔥hi there! I've come up with the idea for Duncan smut, IDK if you like it, but I give it a try🔞🔞how bout some outdoor quickie in winter? IDK if it's even possible in real life, but still! I very much appreciate all your imagines! you're doing great👍👍

Christmas Decorations 🌺 now here’s a little concept (you don’t have to write I just want to share lol) She is super excited for Christmas like REALLY excited she’s all over the house with decorations and at first when she asks him to help her he says no but I mean he can’t say no to her puppy eyes so he caves and they spend the whole afternoon decorating the house ✨💜✨💜✨

I Ain't No Snitch 🌺❤️‍🔥 can you imagine if one day she is kidnapped in order to get to Duncan so he has to find her and everything and when he finds her she’s all scared and crying so he gets all soft and protective 😭😭😭😭😭😭

No Bra ❤️‍🔥 some good old Duncan Vizla smut

Nightly Adventures ❤️‍🔥Lemme ask for some duncan vizla smut, daddy kink, dirty talk and pure filth? I feel like the character is underrated and has lots of potential!

Jingle My Balls ❤️‍🔥 How about some good ol' sexy time with Duncan Vizla! Ohhhhh maybe a holiday theme?? Like the reader wore idk a santa dress/elf dress and Duncan decides to jingle their bells??? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ya catchin my drift chief?? Im sorry this was cheesy

Daddy Kink Headcanon ❤️‍🔥 I was wondering if u could possibly do some Duncan Vizla with daddy kink (smut) headcaons plz it’s ok if u can’t tho 👌

Wedding Risks ❤️‍🔥 may i ask for more of it, maybe some inappropriate place/timing smut or public place or as you wish, cause it gives life :3

Brave 🌩️🌺 I have a request for Duncan! Maybe one of his old enemies gets ahold of his SO and uses her to lure him into a trap and all the angst but with a happy ending! I love your writing so much!! 💕💕💕

Departure ❤️‍🔥How bout some age gap angsty smutty fic w\Duncan Vizla? Like grey hair and wrinkles and stuff, cause kinks are kinks, you know🔥🔥🔥

First Timers ❤️‍🔥 May I request some Duncan smut, like first meeting him\first date stuff... like why wait for 2nd date when you're all head over heels :3

The Right Way To Wake Up ❤️‍🔥 How about some middle of the night/early morning wake up sex w/Mr Duncan Vizla💦💦

Road Trip ❤️‍🔥what about some road/car sex with Duncan?

Foreplay ❤️‍🔥May I request some NSFW Duncan headcanons like putting a condom on/undressing/arousing words, etc., stuff like that!

Mustache Ride I feel like Duncan's mustache gently massaging skin\clit while giving oral must be headcanon😍😍

Girl 🌺 What Would Duncan Vizla Think of having a chubby girlfriend?

Hand+Job ❤️‍🔥May I ask for Duncan receiving handjob or smth without penetration😍😍

Kisses Of Jealously ❤️‍🔥Thank you for all the Duncan fics, they are perfect😍 Let me request some steamy period smut with Duncan

Bathtub Mishaps ❤️‍🔥May I request some bathroom/bathtub Duncan Vizla smut? It should we very wet out there if you know what i mean💦💦

Leading Praise❤️‍🔥

Sinful Words What would you say about Duncan being daddy he is and talking dirty with his lover😈😈

Duncan Going To Town❤️‍🔥

NSFW Alphabet (VER 1)❤️‍🔥

NSFW Alphabet (VER2)❤️‍🔥

First Time Having Sex❤️‍🔥

Nightly Adventures ❤️‍🔥Lemme ask for some Duncan Vizla smut, daddy kink, dirty talk and pure filth? I feel like the character is underrated and has lots of potential!

Little Miss ❤️‍🔥

Fitting Punishment ❤️‍🔥

Comparisons ❤️‍🔥

Chubby!SO 🌺What Would Duncan Vizla Think of having a chubby girlfriend?

DRABBLES FROM MY🧠

Hands To Kiss🌺

Mother, Meet Duncan Vizla 🌺your mom meets your boyfriend

Jealousy Makes Him Silent 🌺

Duncan Saving You🌺

Duncan Learning Your Native Language🌺

Mornings With Duncan Vizla🌺

Making Out ❤️‍🔥

Dating Duncan Vizla🌺

First BJ❤️‍🔥

Tease ❤️‍🔥

Over The Edge ❤️‍🔥

Breathe 🌺Song fic- Breathe by Mako

DIFFERENT AUs

Professor Vizla (Professor!AU)❤️‍🔥Could you write a professor Duncan Vizla x reader smut... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) And there is an age gap between them... Something like that... 🙈🙈🙈

Sins Of Ours (Priest!AU)❤️‍🔥 For Anon who requested it: I hope you like it, I have seen the trailer you suggested but I just changed the name because I’m a lazy bitch and haven’t found the name of the character Mads played so I changed it to Duncan. I hope that’s okay. 

SHORT IMAGINE

Duncan Seeing You After A Long Time🌩️

Seeing Duncan’s Old Videos Of Him🌺

Waking Up Next To Duncan Vizla🌺

Duncan Coming To Your Home Needing Help🌺

[ihavemanyhusbands]

I love forehead kisses, I think they're so cute, can we have hannigram and duncan forehead kisses? Pretty please ? 🥺

Ooooh yesss i can do for each one!!

— i think Hannibal uses forehead kisses a lot of times as a form of praise. Whenever he’s proud of you or when you’ve been particularly clever, you can expect to get one from him. Tbf he does love kissing you anywhere on your face (or body hehe) but i think forehead kisses are kinda reserved for more special instances! Makes it sweeter.

— Will is more absentminded with it i think. Like, say, you’re cuddling on the couch and he’s either tracing lazy circles on your arm or something, and he’ll turn his head and just kiss you on your forehead or temple. Just a little sweetness that he can give without even thinking about it!!! Personally i think it shows how he can be affectionate without it being super overt/obvious!

— Duncan surprisingly (or maybe unsurprisingly) would do it the most. Once you crack that tough, icy exterior, he’s verrrrry affectionate. It’s also a way of reminding you that he’s much larger 🤭 then again i think he wouldn’t just kiss your forehead often, but your cheek or the top of your head or your temples too! Just depends on the angle hehe

[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.

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[lostgirlfandom]

Fun and Games

Pairings: Duncan Vizla x GN!Reader

Warnings: mentions of bed time fun times, use of weapons, swear words

Words: 963

After living with Duncan for years by now, you would think he’d be use to your shenanigans.  

But he’s not.  

And that’s fine, because he likes how unpredictable you are. Sometimes, it’s you trying a new recipe.  

Others, it’s the weird times. Like now for instant.

Duncan had stood in the doorway to the living room with a paper bag full of food from the store, staring at you.  

Sitting on the floor with one leg pulled into your body and the other extended out as you leaned down to the floor with scissors and multiple pieces of paper spread out. The floor was cover with uncut photos and some cut photos with bits of edges all over the floor in a mess. The sound of your record player in the background softly echoes in the room. You were very concentrated on your task with your brow frowned and your tongue peeking out from your mouth.  

Duncan very slowly walked over to the kitchen next to the living room and sat the bag down on the table, never taking his eyes off of you.  

“What are you doing?.... and why are you on the floor?” He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at the scene in front of him.  

Without moving or taking your attention from your ‘project’ you speak. “Cutting out faces of all the people I think need to go.... and sticking them to the target practice boards.” Your words are slow as you finish cutting a photo.  

Duncan stays silent but slowly feels more confused but amused at your train of thought.  

“Look, this one gets bonus points if you get them in the dick!” You smile as you show a full body photo of your ex-boss who use to use you before you retired as an assassin.  

You lock eyes with Duncan, who still had his eyebrow raised at you. You smiled ‘innocently’ at him and after another pause of silence. “Wanna join?”  

His face goes back into its usual stoic nature and looks at you. His lip twitch for a moment and then sighs. “I’ll get the wine.”  

-

Twenty minutes later.  

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.  

The sounds of a .9mm hand gun goes off in the middle of the snow-covered land.  

Duncan and you had moved a little way from the house, each using your chosen weapon to aim at the targets about 50 yards from a table with bullet boxes and pictures waiting to be used and some pictures already used.  

Duncan put his gun down and looked at the target and swears under his breath as he is now behind by 10 points.  

You giggle as you wrap your arms around one of his, pressing your forehead into his arm.  

“Getting drunk, old man?” You tease as you reach over and take some sips from your bourbon glass. Having moved on from wine and to harder liquor, you both had finished each a bottle of wine and onto bourbon and whiskey.  

He sighs and shakes his head, but his lips twitched into a half grin. “No, darling. Just a slight buzz.”  

You give a hearty chuckle and go to pick up the next round of photos to go and pin them to the targets. Also having a slight buzz, but just enough to feel giggly.  

“Alright, this one has some bonus points.” You say semi-seriously as you walk back.  

You take your clip out and reload some bullets into the mechanism and then putting it back into the butt of the gun. Then taking the safety off and aiming, making sure your hands are in a good position and then squeezing the trigger when you were ready.  

After emptying the clip, you lowered your gun and looked at the target, only gaining another 10 points. You pursed your lips as you looked over at your lover.  

He tilted his head and nodded. “Not bad, love.” He then did the same process as you did and emptied his clip into his target. Gaining 15 points, he grinned as he looked at you.  

You both finished your glasses and then filled up again. You then clipping the next targets to the stands. Sighing, you turned back to him and found him staring at you as he leaned on his hands on the table.  

You smiled as you walked back to him and kissing his cheek briskly. His eyes shined softly as he watched you.  

You paused as you slowly put the clip back into the gun. Your eyes distant as you lost in thought. “Lets... make a prize for the winner.” You smirked at him playfully.  

He stoically leaned against the table and crossed his arm. “... Continue.”

You smiled and leaned forward. “If I win... you have to do that think I like in bed.... and if you win...” You pause to think, zoning out slightly and biting your tongue in thought.  

“You have to submit to me...” He speaks slowly but a very small smirk grows on his lips.  

You break out of your thoughts and stare at him for a moment. “Deal.”  

You both lean forward and shake each other's hands.  

Turning back to the game with renewed enthusiasm to win, you both glare in determination.  

-

Thirty minutes later... you both are walking back into the house. You have a pout on your lips and your feet are dragging. He is walking with a confident stride and a grin on his face. Both of your cheeks red from drinking and the cold.  

“Can’t believe I lost.... Shit!” You say as you move to the kitchen to make you both hot chocolates.  

“Shouldn’t have doubted me, elskede.” He told you as he sat at the table. 

You sighed.  

Tonight was gonna be long.  

[playdoughtiny]

DUNCAN VIZLA CAREGIVER HCS

Duncan is the papa bear type of caregiver. Gives the best cuddles and enjoys the silence, relaxing moments are rare for him and he cherishes that.

Be sure that his little is always close to him. Wandering around without him is prohibited!

Although he worries about your safety, Duncan is not as strict as he seems to be at first glance. He just wants to make sure you don't get hurt. He has seen what people are capable of.

Favorite activities are playing in the snow, baking together and story time!

He's mostly quiet, but will engage with your playtime, his kiddo doing most of the talk.

Best hot chocolate maker in the world!

Doesn't delay nap time, always know when it's time to sleep. "I know one cub that is feeling very sleepy."

Likes being called "papa", "dada" or "uncle", mostly paternal titles.

Will call you "kiddo", "kid", "little one" and "cub"

Duncan will meet all your demands, regardless of your age. Need diaper change? Done. Bottle? Done. Need cradling and bouncing to sleep? He'll help you.

Always telling you to stick closer when going out together: "Watch your step", "Hold my hand", "Don't go too far, okay?"

Keeps away from dangerous objects, knives, weapons, sharp things? No no no! You're not touching that, you're too little to get these.

[trenchcoathunnybee08]

I need more Duncan Villa fics 😭that man is ironically my comfort character and I’m 90% sure the tag is exclusively supposed by 2 people. Please I beg you give my man some love. He’s a fluffy old man with a tendency towards violence. Is it really so much to ask to gets some good fics out of it?

If at all possible one that isn’t labeled as an age gap relationship because those just sort of throw me off but i really don’t care anymore. Just about everything else is on the table for all I care.

That’s all. Thanks for coming to my rant 🤷🏻‍♀️

[yokichikun]

Well. I just saw Druk. And now I don’t know who to choose for a one shot. Will you help me decide the character?