#{this is for the house husbands pspspspspsp}

[meownotgood]

the keychain of aki in his robe holding a soup spoon…… pspspsps c’mere house husband pspspspspsps - 🍊

HE'S SUCH A CUTIE SO HUSBANDLY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

[derelictlovefool]

Lunchbreak

Ship(s): Karl Heisenberg x Male!Lord!reader

Summary: Heisenberg's been working hard and you decide he deserves a small break.

°°°

Whistling echoed through the factory, carrying over the hum of machinery and inhuman cries from the poor souls transformed into mindless killing machines. You knew immediately who it was coming from, smiling to yourself as you climbed another stone staircase. It was sometime after one pm, you were finished completing a task for Mother Miranda and decided a lunch with your favourite Lord was in order.

You clutched the wrapped basket in your hands protectively, glaring daggers at anything that crept too close to you or your prepared lunch. You would be damned if you let another Lycan ruin your very limited alone time with your ever busy lover.

You followed the whistling all the way to Heisenberg's office, managing to to sneak in undetected as he was hard at work tinkering away at something with his back to you. A playful grin tugs at your lips as you creep forward, careful not to knock any of the boxes or piles of scrap on the ground as you snuck up behind him. Just as you leap forward to grab him his whistling stops and he spins in his chair and catches you in his arms before you can even make a sound.

You fumble to catch the basket as it flies through the air, pouting up at Heisenberg from your new position on his lap as he allows a wave of laughter to pour out of him. An easy grin rests on his face as you readjust yourself, worried about the contents of your basket but a small smile tugs at your lips and betrays your grumpy facade. If only his smile and laughter wasn't so infectious.

"If that was your idea of a sneak attack buttercup I really think you 'oughta work on it," he teases cheekily, pressing a quick kiss to your cheekbone. You were completely capable of a proper sneak attack, your excitement to see him just got the better of you. Or so you would tell yourself.

"What's that you got there?" The question is hummed against your shoulder, sounding only minorly interested in the wrapped basket and much more interested in pressing lazy yet eager kisses to your shoulder and neck. Seeing as you hadn't seen each other in two days it was understandable for either of you to be doubly affectionate with each other. The feeling of his warmth seeping into your clothes was enough to have your heart rate pick up speed, so the seemingly innocent kisses sent shivers up your spine.

"I, your very thoughtful and loving boyfriend, who tried very hard, cooked us both lunch," you smiled proudly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips in attempts to sate him before unwrapping the basket and revealing four carefully contained dishes. Heisenberg let out a surprised hum, leaning closer and reaching into the basket curiously.

"You did? Really?" He asked, and if it hadn't been for the fact he'd never seen you cook you would have been insulted by his lack of faith in your ability. You take the dish he had began inspecting and placed it on his desk, shuffling and making him turn more towards it as you put the rest of the dishes on the cluttered workspace.

"Yes I did, now eat before I decide you don't deserve my amazing cooking," He chuckled at your playful threat, taking the fork you held out to him and beckoning a second chair over for you to sit on. As much as you wouldn't have minded staying in his lap you did move to the chair, but in regular you fashion you tangled your legs in what looked to him like an uncomfortable position and grabbed a dish to sit atop your crossed knees.

Heisenberg could only chuckle endearingly, crossing one leg over the other and grabbing a dish of his own. He surprisingly didn't make any quips about your cooking, in fact the way he devoured the food as if he hadn't eaten since you last sat down for a meal together worried you. Mother Miranda was always pushing so much work onto him, you knew he was capable of handling it but you also knew when he got into his work he could neglect his body quite a bit.

So you did the only thing you could do and squeezed in some time to bring him a nice meal, maybe having pushed yourself to work a bit overtime so you could have this moment alone with him too. You couldn't quite make out what he was working on, it looked almost like another helmet for his army drones but you weren't entirely sure. An orange-red light shone from it's power source so you assumed it was near completed.

"You could really give Duke a run for his money with this doll, s'fantastic," Heisenberg compliments with his mouth full, making you roll your eyes. You gently tossed a napkin at him seeing as his messy eating left crumbs in his beard and put your empty meal container back into the basket.

"I'm glad you think so, I spent enough getting the ingredients so it better be good," You say, the thought of your much lighter pouch of coins hurting your soul a bit. You could have hunted on your own or even grown your own herbs but with the state of the village that wasn't something you exactly wanted to do. Duke had good buisness anyhow and you knew his goods were quality.

You watch as he places the empty container down inside his other one, wiping his mouth with the napkin and humming appreciatively. You detangle yourself from your spot on the chair at that, taking hold of Heisenbergs free hand and tracing the scars on them. It wasn't often he didn't wear his gloves, sometimes during more precise work he'd take them off or when he came to stay with you in your home. He wasn't fond of his scars, it was just another reminder of what Miranda did to him, what he was now.

You respected that of course but being as enamoured with him as you were you couldn't help but see a beauty in them, he had gotten as comfortable as he could with you touching them so he simply leant back in his chair and watched you with gentle amusement. If not at your fascination with his scars the way you seemed mesmerized by his hands was often funny to him, he didn't mind it, especially when he got to hold your hand and feel your soft skin against his.

"You got anywhere to be buttercup?" He asks almost lazily, his tone relaxed as he gazes as you gently. You shake your head instantly, a playful smile gracing your face as you meet his eyes.

"Nope, I was actually planning on sticking around and being a distraction for the rest of the day," You hum, a pleasant warmth blooming from his devious grin and chuckle in return. He tugs you forward and you end up on his lap once more, this time straddling his lap with your hands resting on his chest. He guides you closer with a hand on the back of your neck, his lips meeting yours in a softer kiss then expected from him.

You melt against him, always so easily made into putty in his hands, the power he had over you was truly ridiculous. But you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Sounds good to me,"