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blacktofade · 1 year

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I woke up in the middle of the night on Sunday with this idea in my head and had to do something with it, so here we are.

Not enough of a thing to post to AO3, so this is a Tumblr 'sclusie.

Hook/Evilhausen, Hook/OFC, NC-17, Hook brings someone back to his hotel room, but starts seeing things.

The mouth on Hook’s cock is warm and wet and the perfect kind of distraction.

Hook doesn’t make a habit of bringing women back to his hotel room. It’s too public, too messy. But sometimes he’ll make an exception. When he’s tired and sore and wants to think about nothing at all.

His mind is blissfully silent when he hits the back of her throat. She lets out a soft noise, hot, like she likes it, and he tangles his fingers into her hair. It’s a muddy kind of brown around his knuckles and so long that it falls around her face, obscuring her from view.

He tips his head back, staring at the ceiling, thumb rubbing against her scalp, and she does something devastating with her tongue.

He lets out a soft breath and she seems to understand what he means because she does it again.

She has one hand working him, the other resting on his hip, like a warning to not buck upwards. Not that he would. Not unless she asked.

He tightens his grip on her hair and shuts his eyes, inhaling slowly.

“Hook,” she says, which — she still has her mouth on him, she shouldn’t be able to say a word.

He opens his eyes and looks down to find her staring up at him, but it’s not her face. It’s different. It’s still half-hidden by her hair, but there’s a flash of white paint, a hint of red.

He blinks, choking back a noise he can’t let escape, and then her face is hers again, the gold of her eyeshadow stark against her brown eyes and bronzed skin. She catches his gaze and the corner of her mouth twitches like a smile.

She pulls off for barely a moment, swirling her tongue around the tip of his cock before diving back down and it feels like — he doesn’t know.

He lets out a ragged breath, unable to look away, but her bangs slip down, hiding her from view again.

He knows he’s tired, but it can’t be enough to make him see things. He’s done more, stayed up later, but it’s never made him hallucinate before.

Carefully, he lets go of the hair at the crown of her head and gently cards his fingers through the hair over face, pushing it back.

His stomach flips and cock twitches as a blue eye stares back at him. A blue eye that’s ringed in black and red and somehow isn't at all how he remembers it.

He moans, can't help it, and black stained lips smile around him.

For a fraction of a second, the hair beneath his palm is short and slicked back, and he grips it, pulling to get the mouth off his cock.

"You like it rough?" the woman asks with a smile, lips red, eyes dark again, and it feels like Hook can't breathe.

There's something wrong with him.

"Can I ride you?" she asks, already moving, and Hook should say no. He should tell her he's too tired, too off balance.

But instead he nods.

His hands fit perfectly around her hips, thumbs slipping into the divots of them as though made for him. Her thighs are strong and smooth as she straddles him, reaching back with one manicured hand to guide him inside her.

She's so soft and warm, and endlessly wet as though blowing him had been enough for her.

A groan punches out of him and it feels a little like taking a bump in the ring when hands, smudged with black paint, settle on his chest.

"Is this what Hook wants?" Danhausen asks, but it's not him.

It's not.

Hook had brought a woman back to his room. He'd met her in the hotel bar downstairs, glitzed up like she was going out, but she'd stayed when he'd asked if he could buy her a drink. She'd introduced herself as Tiana or Tessa — something like that — and when he'd leaned in close and asked if she had any plans, she'd said she was open to ideas.

And now she's hot and tight around him, letting him get as deep as he can, but the face that stares down at him isn't hers.

"Does Hook like this?" Danhausen asks, his hands sliding up to Hook's shoulders, and Hook knows it's him, but everything about him seems wrong.

Hook isn't stupid enough to think Danhausen has ever looked soft, but his paint is harsher now, skeletal, like death has come for him.

But it's not just that. It's his posture, the way he sits on Hook's hips, back ramrod straight, staring down so coldly. It's his hands and the way his fingers dig into Hook's skin like they want to bury under the surface.

"Danhausen can give Hook what he wants."

What Hook wants is for his head to clear. He wants to feel like he's not going insane.

His hands clutch tighter at a waist that's less feminine than before and Danhausen shifts, a smooth drag against Hook's cock.

It's too much when Hook's heart is pounding in his chest, anxiety cinching around his lungs.

"What does Hook want?" Danhausen asks and his body flickers.

For a moment, he sees Tiana or Tessa or whatever her name is. He sees the way she tilts her head back, the curve of her neck so beautiful, her breasts begging for his touch. But the higher he slides his hands, the paler her skin turns and when he gets to her ribs, a tattoo, demonic and all too familiar, bleeds through.

"Would Hook prefer her?" Danhausen asks, staring down at him again, and Hook doesn't know what to think.

He's being toyed with. He's just a game for Danhausen, and his anxiety shifts, burns sharper inside his chest.

It doesn't matter what he prefers and it doesn’t matter what he wants. It's not Danhausen's business.

Danhausen, who's been gone for months with barely a word. Who shows back up like this, as though he has any right to haunt him.

The anger kicks in before he can stop it, and he's back in the ring, grabbing his opponents and tossing them aside. The unbridled rage that burns through him, fuels his muscles even as they stretch and ache.

No one stands a chance against him, least of all Danhausen.

He flips them, Danhausen feeling like nothing more than a ghost as Hook slams him to the bed, cock still aching and inside him.

He presses a hand to Danhausen's throat and squeezes just tight enough to be a threat.

Danhausen lets out a breath, or perhaps a laugh, it's hard to tell the difference, and his mouth stretches wide.

"Is this what you want?" Hook hisses, leaning over him and Danhausen laughs again, deep and rumbling this time.

"Would Hook prefer if Danhausen lied?"

Danhausen curls his legs around Hook's waist, ankles locking behind him, and Hook doesn't think either of them is going anywhere.

He braces his other hand against the bed and fucks into Danhausen sharply. It should knock the wind out of him, or take him by surprise, anything.

But Danhausen just keeps grinning up at him as though he knows. As though he's won.

The anger burns hotter, but not for Danhausen. For himself. He’s ashamed at failing so easily.

"Danhausen has been watching," Danhausen tells him. "Hook has won many fights."

Hook grits his teeth and sets a brutal pace, hips slamming forward, but Danhausen just takes it, still so wet, so perfect around him.

"You haven't been there," Hook hisses, and Danhausen brings his hands up to Hook's chest, fingers tracing his collarbone before sliding up and over his shoulders.

"Danhausen doesn't want Hook's belt. Danhausen will not fight for it."

"That's not what I meant," Hook grunts. "You haven't been anywhere."

Danhausen's chin tips up and Hook notices a smear of something that might be blood across the dark paint there.

After a moment, with eyes almost black, he says, "Danhausen wants power."

Hook feels desperately close to the edge, body aching, but never once faltering.

"I’m not enough?" he asks. “Fighting me won’t give you enough power?”

When Danhausen smiles again, it's not as mean.

"Hook is enough for someone."

Hook's chest hurts, and it's not just the burning of his lungs as he pants for breath.

"But not you," he surmises and Danhausen tips his chin again, an agreement.

Inside his mind, he begs the anger to come back, to stop him from feeling, but what sweeps through him is a cold resignation.

"Then why come here?" he snaps. "Why do this to me?"

Danhausen's hand slides up his neck, cupping Hook's jaw, and the expression on Danhausen's face hints that Hook won't like his answer.

"Because Hook will let us."

Hook comes, the force of it dragged out of him in one quick punch, and it feels as though he's falling and falling and falling.

And just when he thinks he should hit the ground, he startles awake.

He gasps for breath, tossing the covers back, his body, wet with sweat, suddenly cooling in the dry air of the air conditioned room.

He's in his hotel room and he's alone, but there's come, sticky and still lukewarm in his boxers.

The TV across from him is on and playing late night QVC, and the bedside lamp is still on. It’s exactly as he’d left it.

Slowly, he drags himself up, standing on shaking legs and begging for them to hold out long enough to get to the bathroom.

He flicks the light on and reaches for the faucet, setting it as cold as it'll go and immediately leaning forward to get his mouth into the stream of it.

He gulps it down, feeling more grounded with every swallow until his stomach feels bloated from it.

Everything had been so vivid, had felt so real. The flesh had been warm under his palms. But as he hangs his head over the sink and lets his breathing slow, he realizes it couldn’t have been. It was just a dream.

There was no woman and no Danhausen.

He cups his hands under the water and splashes his face, the shock of it clearing the rest of the sleep fog from his brain. He’s probably had as much sleep as he’s going to get for one night.

He takes a steadying deep breath before shutting off the faucet and standing upright again.

The water drips off his face and onto his chest, and his reflection stares back at him, pale and uncertain.

In the dip of his collarbone and across his right shoulder, there's a smudge of black paint.

What does Hook want? the voice in his head asks and he doesn't know at all.

#thing wot i wrote #hookhausen #fic #i'm really going through it lads #and i'm dragging as many people down with me as possible

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