#Karl wouldn’t put away his claws

[wishitweresummer]

hewwoooo! as the community’s resident nail queen, i wanted to run some questions by u :3

so!!!! i want to hear your thoughts on this:

finger guitar picks / hair parters

who would wear them

would they be more teasy or ruthless

who would be their main target

are they themselves sensitive to them

here’s a picture for reference :D

(Mushiiie Mushie Mushie, thank you for the aaaaask I will kiss your forehead and also your nose as thank you.)

Maybe I just miss the BANTER Boys so much, but Karl all the way Karl!!! (And of course he shows up to recording of the newest podcast with these.)

He already always has some kind of bright nail polish on his nails and rings on his hands so it’s easy to imagine these on him.

Him and George curled on the couch waiting for Sap when they are finally noticed, the shiny metal catching the light and grabbing George’s attention.

“What are those?”. Karl looks a bit evil as he stares down at his own wiggling fingers. “Karl what the fuck are those?”. He won’t stop smirking.

In a flash Karl slips them off and pockets them, then the fight begins.

~George’s shrill shriek echos through the studio

Karl has strength and height on poor Gogy and in less than a minute the squirmy boy is face down on the couch with his wrists pressed down at his sides with Karl’s knees. Immediately he’s a giggly mess, very familiar with Karl’s tickle attacks.

“No Karl don’t tickle me!!!”, he whines, he already knows. He screeches as Karl lifts his t-shirt up and reveals his back. His whole body shudders at some tinkly sounds on top of him as his mind reminds him of the little metal claws Karl wore. “No!!!”.

The rounded tips of the claws are trailing down his bare sides and George is screaming. His helpless squirming only makes it worse. The electric tickly feeling zapping him to the core. No amount of movement can get his ticklish sides away from the cruel dull points of the claws.

“They are guitar picks,”, Karl supplied unhelpfully, unable to be heard over George’s hysterical laughter. The mean claws trail and spider over his back and spine, then down his lower back and back over to his sides. The room filled with squeals and cackles,

“Fuck you! Karl fuck youuu!!!”. The words are mean but the giddy-sounding laughter really robbed them of their bite.

“God you guys are loud.”, suddenly a new voice.

“Sapnap help!”, George whined.

Karl finally relented so he could grin and show Sapnap the claws as he came closer to investigate.

“Whatchu got there?”. Sapnap reached out and touched one of the claws. Karl let him do it for a bit before taking his wrist in his hand and turning it over. He dragged the claws down the bare forearm and Sapnap pulled away with a huff.

“Jeez!! Those tickle.”, he rubbed away the feeling and finally took in the scene. “Holy shit where are you touching George with those?”. The older boy whimpered at his name.

Sapnap watched in horror as Karl dropped his clawed fingers to George’s sensitive sides and drew out a startled squeal that twisted into crazed laughter. Karl bounced on top of the squirmy form.

“Want to try?”, Karl halted his tickling and tilted his head at a stunned-Sapnap. George gasped out softly for air.

“Please get him instead.”, he mumbled.

~A new screech pierced the air as Karl leaped into action again

The new BANTER podcast’s recording was postponed by nearly an hour while the boys got to know Karl’s new toy.

How it turned Karl’s normally teasy tickling into ruthless torture.

Eventually, they even learned how the toy was most powerful against the one who originally had wielded it.

Karl was crying within a minute when George finally wrestled him down and Sapnap pried off his sneakers and socks.

[silvfyre-writings]

Snapshots Pt. 3 (BSD Fanfic)

Sorry for making you all cry with my last fic, so here's some fluff to make up for it!

I bring you some sick Poe, which is a nice change from sick Ranpo, so I hope you all enjoy! I also hope you are enjoying these short fics, cause they are very fun to write! :D

Thank you for reading!

When Poe woke up that morning, he truly felt like he’d been hit by a train and left to die like a piece of roadkill; his eyes burned, his body ached all over from his muscles to his bones, and it truly felt like he’d run a marathon even though all he’d done was go to bed and sleep. He’d thought it odd at first, when he’d started to feel exhausted well before the time that he normally went to bed, but he’d just put it down to all those sleepless nights of writing finally catching up with him. Because he had a deadline coming up for a client, so he’d been pulling a few all-nighters to make sure he would be finished in time. Apparently Poe didn’t know the meaning of the word no, because he always wound up taking on more work than he could handle.

So it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to wake up feeling like absolute death.

Poe let out a groan, and rolled over, burying his head underneath his pillow in an attempt to hide from the small amount of morning sun that had succeeded in getting past his curtains. Normally, the morning sun was blocked entirely from his room—because he was smart and bought blackout curtains for his room—until he felt like braving the day and opening them, but sometimes Karl liked to sit on the windowsill in the morning, and would dislodge the curtains in order to sun himself. And speaking of Karl… a wet nose shoved itself underneath his pillow and nuzzled his cheek, demanding attention and whatever else .

“Not today, Karl… please. I’ll take you out later.” Poe pleaded with his beloved pet, even though he didn’t know when later would be at this point, and gently shoved the raccoon away, using an arm to squash the pillow over his face even more. He wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, just so he could attempt to sleep off whatever illness had decided to plague him. But apparently, Karl had a different idea, because the raccoon began to claw at his hand and whine, the noise grating on Poe’s already pounding head.

And then it dawned on him why Karl was being so determined. Oh, right… food. I haven’t fed him yet.

Another groan later, and after sharp teeth nibbled at his ear, Poe managed to drag himself upright. He sat like that for a moment, eyes squeezed shut while his head pounded even more than before, and the world spun, no doubt from suddenly changing position. If Poe hadn’t believed he was sick before, then he certainly did now. Why me? Why now? The last thing Poe needed to be was sick; he had work to do, and he wouldn’t be able to do that if he was laid up in bed. His only consolation was that despite how miserable he felt currently, he felt better than the last time he’d been sick.

That hadn’t been a good time.

But it also meant that if Poe was smart about it, he could nip this sickness in the bud before it got out of hand and left him bedridden for weeks. He just had to actually get out of bed and drag himself downstairs to get the medicine, a task that was starting to seem more and more impossible the longer he continued to sit there and suffer. In theory, it should be easy to just stand and actually accomplish something, but this kind of tiredness wasn’t like those days where he found it hard to get out of bed and function; this was a different kind of exhaustion entirely. On the days where his mind betrayed him, he was sometimes still able to go about his day—it was hard, and left him feeling drained, but he could still manage. But when he was sick? That was another story entirely. His body never had any energy to spare on those days, and all Poe could ever really do was just sleep the day away until the sickness moved on to the next poor soul that needed to suffer.

Like right now.

“Sorry, Karl, I just need to rest a little longer.” Poe murmured, scratching Karl under the chin before he laid back down and closed his eyes. Just five more minutes…

The next time that Poe awoke, it was to the wonderful sensation of something cold grazing along his burning forehead, and he let out a content sigh as he leaned towards the touch. It took a moment for his brain to register that that something he was feeling were fingers, and that he recognized the feeling of those fingers as they danced across his forehead. He cracked his eyes open, just enough to see what was in front of him, and then closed them, satisfied that the person touching him wasn’t someone here to actually murder him.

That not only would’ve been awkward, but Poe probably wouldn’t have been able to stop them.

“No wonder you didn’t answer my messages.” Ranpo’s murmured as he pulled his fingers away from Poe’s face. The detective crawled onto the bed to lay beside Poe, the hand that’d been touching him before, coming back to cup his cheek this time. “How are you feeling?”

Poe grunted, and managed to crack his eyes open just enough that he could see Ranpo’s face a few inches from his own, concern visible in his eyes. That lone grunt was all the answer he was willing to give right now, and thankfully, it was all he had to give because Ranpo wouldn’t be Ranpo if he couldn’t understand him when words failed.

Ranpo’s face softened, and he shuffled closer, wrapping his arms around Poe’s shoulders as he drew the writer closer; Poe should’ve spoken up then, said something about not wanting to get Ranpo sick, but his voice failed him in lieu of the warmth the encompassed him from Ranpo’s embrace. He always loved it when Ranpo held him, something that didn’t happen as often as he would’ve liked, mostly because their height difference simply made it easier for Poe to be the one doing the embracing.

But this… this was great; warm and comfortable, and Poe could almost forget he was sick.

Almost.

“I don’t want to get you sick…” Poe murmured into Ranpo’s chest, eyes blinking sluggishly as he fought to stay awake. Rest would do him good, he knew that, but he also wanted to know the reason for Ranpo’s sudden visit—yes the detective lived with him, but when the Agency was busy, it wasn’t uncommon for Ranpo to sleep at the dorms instead, like he’d been doing the past couple of weeks.

Ranpo hummed, and threaded a hand into Poe’s hair, holding him closer. “You won’t get me sick. Besides, I was worried.”

“You were?”

“Yeah, I messaged you this morning, and while I know you get sidetracked with work, you always open them at least, so when you didn’t, I thought something had happened to you. Now I see it’s because you weren’t feeling well.”

“Sorry—” Poe began to say, only to stop as a finger was pressed against his lips, effectively silencing him.

“Don’t apologize. You’re sick. Instead, let me help, okay?” Ranpo waited for Poe to nod before he grinned and pulled his finger away. “What can I do to help?”

“Um… Karl needs feeding. That’s about it.”

“Alright then! You rest and leave everything to the greatest detective, okay?”

Despite feeling like absolute trash, Poe couldn’t help but smile at the enthusiasm that Ranpo showed, and he watched as the detective crawled off the bed, and carefully rearranged the blankets so that they were pulled up to Poe’s chin. It was a kind gesture, and one that Poe appreciated as he burrowed into the blankets until only the top of his hair was visible. He closed his eyes and listened as Ranpo called for Karl, the detective’s voice fading as he disappeared down the hallway.

He was asleep in not even a minute.

There was a hand in his hair, and a comfortable weight against his back when Poe woke up again. This time, his room was free from the sun, the gap in the curtain having been pulled across; it wasn’t night though, because he could see the sun peeking at the edges of the curtains, but it definitely wasn’t morning anymore. Poe took a moment to lay there, blinking tiredly as he took stock of how he was feeling. His body was still aching, but his latest bout of rest seemed to have eased it a little, and his headache that had once felt like a drill in his skull, was now just a light throb. The worst of it seemed to be the fever, but even that seemed milder than when he’d first woken.

“I woke you up an hour ago, to take some medicine.” Ranpo murmured against the back of his neck, voice thick with sleep. His shifting must’ve woken the other.

Then Ranpo’s words caught up to him, and he turned to look over his shoulder, confused. “You woke me?”

Ranpo let out a yawn, his hand falling from Poe’s hair to rest on his waist. “Yeah, but I don’t think you woke properly. You just kinda mumbled a lot, took the medicine, and went back to sleep.”

“Oh… sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Ranpo said as he snuggled closer. “I fed Karl and took him outside for a bit as well, and tidied up a little—not much because I know what you’re like, just dishes and laundry.”

Poe felt a little bit guilty at needing Ranpo to do those things for him when he should’ve been able to do them himself, but also immensely grateful for the help when he wasn’t feeling his best. Usually, it took a bit of convincing to get Ranpo to do something he wouldn’t normally do, and basic house chores was one such thing that Ranpo often refused to do.

So, for Ranpo to actually do those things for him without being asked…

It made Poe feel loved.

“Thank you, Ranpo, for helping me.” Poe rolled over and buried his face into Ranpo’s chest, winding his arms around the other’s waist. He was ready to go back to sleep, but first, he wanted to make sure that Ranpo knew just how much he appreciated him.

Ranpo’s mouth twitched up into a smile before he hid his face into Poe’s hair. “It’s fine. I don’t mind helping when it’s you. Besides that’s what boyfriends do, isn’t it? Take care of each other when they don’t feel well.”

Immediately, Poe’s face flushed red, but not from the fever. It wasn’t the first time that Ranpo had referred to their relationship as something other than rivals or partners, yet every time he did so, Poe always became a blushing mess, even though it made him feel fuzzy and warm on the inside. He heard Ranpo chuckle, and the brush of lips against his forehead. “And this is why I say that sparingly.”

“Ranpo is so mean to me.”

“You love me for it, though.”

“I suppose—” Poe’s words were interrupted by a massive yawn. “—that I do.”

Ranpo hummed tiredly. “Sleep well, Poe. Feel better in the morning.”

[prose-priest-potentate]

In the Interim

Fic on Ao3: Here

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Chapter 5: Meeting the Rebels

They show up at the door to the coffin maker’s shop disguised, with Wixen’s familiar fox face left recognizable when Millivoj cracks the door. 

“You’re back?” He looks suspicious. Hesitant to usher in the woman who had offered to assassinate Wachter as he snuck her back out of the city a few weeks ago, but he can’t afford to let three cloaked figures be seen outside their meeting house for too long, so they’re let in. 

“Yeah.” Wixen strides in without a care, “We found ourselves in extenuating circumstances, so we’re back to help y’all.” The rest of the room, full of half-familiar faces, stares with wide-eyes and mixed emotions as Imrath pulls the hood off his horns and Izek’s form shifts back into his usual appearance.

Millivoj takes a step back. A cautious, hopeful smile starts to creep across his lips. “You are? That’s fantastic. With you all,” he waves them all toward the rest of the group, to a table where a map of the city is laid out, “we stand a real chance.” 

The irony of their hiding place isn’t lost on any of them. They hadn’t even befriended Izek the last time they snuck their way in here to take out the vampire spawn that were too close to invading the city. Another monster under their noses.

Wixen leans heavily over the map that she can’t read to see if she can recognize any streets, and Izek leans in over top of her to check its accuracy. Several people, like Blinsky, shift and stutter away when he does - not wanting to be within range of his claws, but wary to cower too much. Imrath rolls his eyes behind his blindfold and crosses his arms. He’s on edge, curling the forks on his tongue up to keep his patience. He can taste their fear.

“So what’s the plan so far?” 

“Well, our first plan was to arrest Lady Wachter and force her to abdicate…” Imrath nods. Izek straightens up and stares, blank, over Wixen’s head at the mention of force. “But Nikolai and Karl say that she’s been acting more distant than usual, so we’re not sure what’s going on anymore.” 

Wixen shrugs, “I wouldn’t be surprised if dying took it out of her.” 

Behind her, Imrath purses his lips. “It could have radicalized her further…” He muses. His tail swishes thoughtfully.

“What did she- what did you say?!” A young man elbows to the front of the crowd, voice raised. Another puts a hand on his chest to slow him down, but seems equally upset. 

Wixen gives Millivoj a side-eye, and plants her hands on her hips, explaining for the fourth time, “Yeah. I told you last time I was fine taking her out, but you got pissed off about asking for it, so I just did it.” 

The brothers speak in unison, too loud, “Did WHAT?” and “That shit’s not funny.” Their allies shush them and both Imrath and Izek tense up, ready to support or grab Wixen, whichever is called for. Not that she’d need the back up against these two, but they were both still worried she’d torch the place…

Wixen pins her ears back, bears her teeth, and doesn’t give an inch. “I did what needed to be done. With her gone, everything else works out.”

“You didn’t kill our mother, she’s still alive.” The taller brother, Karl, is still very much up in arms, with someone on his arm to keep him from shoving the table and making things worse.

Nikolai is a little more willing to humor the idea. Or is at least more skeptical. “Oh yeah? Then how did you get in without any of us knowing?” 

“Kitchen window.” The brothers share a quick, panicked glance. Izek rolls his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“If she got revived after being killed in her own bed,” Imrath offers, “it wouldn’t be strange that she’s been distant.”

“She’s probably paranoid.” Izek shrugs, and his voice carries more weight than an off-handed comment should. 

The room is silent as Imrath flexes one of his hands. He suggests, “It could be a side-effect. Not all resurrections are the same, least of all here.” 

“You know,” Wixen’s tail swishes past their legs, sweeping up dust, “that little demon thing was really upset at me for killing her.” Imrath feels the shuffling around the table from the brothers. Steps that jumble in his spatial awareness. He steps up, past Izek, beside Wixen, and leans over the map he clearly cannot see. Just, putting his body in the way.

“It doesn’t matter, really. She, in whatever form, still needs to be deposed, right?” When he inclines his head, it is directed at Karl, whose shape pulled itself from the confusion when he made himself an obstacle. He needs this plan back on its tracks - Wixen’s far too unstable to be challenged these days…

From behind him, Izek speaks. Imrath hates the edge in his voice, and feels his feathers pin back. Good thing no one here understands the way his body betrays him.

“We’re wasting time. What’s the plan?” All business, Izek looks between the assembled crowd. A man he recognizes as a hunter gestures towards him. 

“Well having you back changes things.” The man sounds about as gruff as Izek does, but is smaller when Imrath focuses on his silhouette. He continues, “Can’t you just storm in and take care of it all? You know, burn some people to cinders.”

Izek is distinctly unimpressed, but content enough with it. He is nodding when Imrath stands back up to his full height, hands on his hips, asking, “Where will everyone else be stationed?”

“Izek kept everyone under his thumb before, surely he can handle a couple of cultists. You two can run in with him, if you’re worried.” 

“That isn’t a plan.” Imrath lets his disappointment through his teeth.

Immediately after, Wixen barks out a harsh laugh, “Sounds like you want us to do all the work. You too scared to bleed a little?”

Blinksy is quick to step in as tensions rise. “No. No, we will help of course.” He stares hard at his conspirators. 

Millivoj, helpfully, suggests that, “It might not be a bad idea for Izek to lead the charge though.”

“There shouldn’t be a charge.” Imrath nods his chin toward the Wachter brothers. “They can let us in whenever they’ll all be distracted. Through both doors, actually.” 

Wixen worms her way under one of his arms to pipe in, “Catch ‘em off guard.” 

Plans continue, with Imrath and Wixen quick to curl their lips at the plans that boil down to ‘you risk your skins for us’ or ‘Izek can just flay them alive.’ Imrath would normally volunteer to take the hits and just be thankful that no one else was being hurt, but the opportunistic hypocrisy hits a little too close to home right now, and he is losing his mother’s patience. He reminds them that they must have had a plan before they agreed to help, so it’s best not to deviate from what they already know - that the three of them are helpful complements to their coup, not an army. 

After no less than an hour of suspicion and thinly veiled insults, everyone settles on similar pages. Wixen lays some more of their cards on the table and promises Imrath’s services in putting their father’s body to rest, which he is of course happy to do. Reluctantly, the Watcher boys settle and tell what they know - about their mother’s weird cult in the basement. A plan is made to call as many of their mother’s “friends” as they can to the house - to invest Nikolai like she’d been pressuring him, and for Karl to let the rebellion in the front door, before both boys go upstairs to keep their sister safe. The best fighters will target the cult, and everyone else will watch their backs. Most of those assembled are happy enough with that; just happy to have the help at all against such bad odds. 

One dissenting voice remains though. 

He hears it as they are saying heading to the door, from the corner of the bedraggled room, lounging on a pile of boards that Imrath remembers climbing to kill a vampire spawn - yet another time when he’d helped this town already. The man is sarcastic in his ears as they go to leave. He might even have let it go in any other time or place. 

He slows to a stop as Izek and Wixen exit before him, and then leans up on his toes to walk quietly around the stairs. The man has moved with a group of companions to lean on the table the coffin maker had cowered under. Imrath wonders if he feels safer now that Izek has left the building. Safe enough to let his tongue get away with him. A silly assumption…

Blinsky is the only soul that feels the tension that rolls off him, and reaches out as he goes to leave as well. The toymaker touches Imrath’s shoulder kindly. Empathy. Compassion. Imrath offers him a fake smile, pats his knuckles, and wishes him a quiet goodnight.

Idle chat continues as Imrath listens, leant against the other side of the wall. He stands too still, waiting for the evidence he needs to be presented on a silver platter. The voice that caught his ire continues, “After all the people he’s killed, I thought he might be giddy to run in and light the whole damn house on fire.” 

Someone else, “Izek hasn’t ever been giddy in his life.” Imrath curls his lip. That isn’t enough.

“Shouldn’t be surprised that the one time he doesn’t want to slit throats is when we need him to. That’d be useful.” The man scoffs and it frays the last of Imrath’s temper. He steps off the wall, rolls himself around the beam of the wall and makes himself known. 

Only a little surprised, the man judges him wrong. 

“Hey, you’re still here! You overheard, right? Some good it’s done, bringing him back, huh? How do you even deal with him on the road?” He smiles, sardonic. “Sleep with one eye open? Or… well-” Some of the others chuckle.

Imrath doesn’t always use the skills Vilgaron taught him with a dagger - doesn’t even keep one on him anymore. But he can still move like he’s supposed to, fluid and quick. He leans in, leans down, leans close and bears his fangs. The man is thin, small in a human way. The kind of person Imrath expects to carry a dagger.

“I should tell you that Izek is the only reason I’m here, helping clean the filth from this village again, because the innocents among you deserve our protection - but do not mistake my tolerance for leave to speak freely.” 

Imrath stands himself back up, looming, digging deep for the influence in his dragon blood. “Because I am courteous, I will warn you once. I will not allow you to condemn Izek for the same violence that your rebellion was begging to take advantage of.” 

The man pushes himself up from his seat, crowding Imrath’s chest. “You’re pretty damn stupid if you think he does anything for anyone but himself. I bet he hasn’t admitted to any of it, right? Do you know how many bones get dug up from shallow graves around there with burns and claw marks?”

That does manage to strike a nerve. Imrath has already decided not to push for any real confessions from Izek, against his instincts to pry. Already decided to blame the real villain in his lofty castle. Already decided to help. Again. 

Still. The rage in his chest isn’t new, though letting it out is. The guilt he’s taught himself to feel is easier to bite down than it ever has been. He growls down at this man who is supposed to be his ally. The man steps back, just a half-step. Good.

Millivoj is behind him, sliding around to step in. The Wachter brothers and several other villagers are gathering around the conflict as well. The room is getting crowded.

Imrath ignores their questions and demands for answers, but loosens his shoulders and steps back as well. He pins his feathers back and blows smoke from his nose. “I know that there will be more bones if we don’t stay, so I am going to clean up your mess for a fourth time. And if I catch you talking about your savior like he’s a beast again, I will show you what a real beast is and bury you my self.”

He turns to leave, and as he excuses himself past the friendlier faces, speaking low in his chest, “He’d do well to learn some tact before the fight.”

Imrath is out the door into the darkness, with his hood back on. He’s trying not to smoke when Izek and Wixen join him from the shadows. They had waited. How sweet. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Wixen asks as they sweep between shadows back to the inn for a few hours sleep. Izek is tense, his footsteps louder than usual.

“Not if he’s smart.” 

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[lovetorn]

dream’s birthday bash [roommate!dream au]

Roommate!Dream x Reader

summary: it’s dream’s birthdayyyy!!!

warnings: alcohol, swearing

w/c: 2.9k+

a/n: happy birthday dream!! i’m in love w this. i hope u are too. also, there is a few references to past roommate!dream blurbs & one-shots, so i recommend reading those before you start this one or you may be a little confused at some things the characters say. thanks!! <3

roommate!dream masterlist

—

Dream’s birthday is something you haven't experienced yet since you moved in together in September last year.

Dream had promised the football team that his birthday party was going to be the biggest of the year, so you, being the party planner, had vowed to make it the best because Dream can’t organise—he disagreed and said that he only made you the party planner because he knows you’re good at it?? You gave him a confused look; you’ve never planned a party before.

Anyway, the 12th was approaching quicker than you anticipated and the only things you’d organised so far is the alcohol (thanks to George) and decorations. You had little notes on your phone with multiple checklists and you had yet to tick every last box off.

Organising food was probably the hardest thing. You knew that there were going to be around 100+ people squeezing into your apartment, drinking, so food is essential. You asked Dream what types of food he wanted, his reply?

“Chicken wings, not spicy.”

You rolled your lips between your teeth and nodded. Great. “Anything else? There’s gonna be a lot of people, Dream.”

He brought his fingers to rest on his lips as he thought about it. You knew when he got an idea because then he clicked his fingers and pointed at you. “Sandwiches. You know, like the little ones?”

Squinting at him, you sighed. “You think that’s going to be enough for more than 100 people?”

Dream nods. “Easy.”

You shake your head in disbelief and add sandwiches, along with other finger foods, to the list. “Thanks.”

Next to organise was Dream’s present. You spent days racking your brain, trying to figure out what he would want, eventually coming up with nothing.

So, you asked Sapnap, who was no help. “Fuck if I know, the man buys anything he wants himself these days.”

You rolled your eyes and took a trip to Target. Whilst there, you decided on an excess of small gag gifts: a Ron Swanson dishwasher magnet (so you and Dream can stop arguing over who put dirty dishes in with the clean ones), an engraved bottle opener, a ‘do not disturb sign for his bedroom door (chosen based on one too many run-ins), a Minecraft ice cube tray, a toothbrush holder (so both of your toothbrushes stop touching in the cup), and a pack of Minecraft socks.

You put the small presents into a gift bag, covering them with tissue paper, and then put in the final piece that wasn’t a joke gift—a mixtape of your and Dream’s favourite songs for his car. You brushed your thumb over the plastic case and let out a breathy laugh at the photo on the front—a selfie of the two of you in Dream's car, energy drinks in your hands and toothy grins with the text, ‘Dream & Y/n’s Gr8est Hits’ written in bright pink marker. You're excited to give it to him, but you're nervous and embarrassed, too—is it lame?

You shook your head and placed the bag in your closet.

George delivered the alcohol earlier in the day: 18 cases of beer and the same in White Claw, and a few bottles of vodka and rum for the close friends. You couldn't thank him enough for helping you, even more so after he helped put the covered trays of food in the refrigerator from the delivery truck downstairs.

You had (reluctantly) asked Sapnap to organise music because you had no time in between making sure the food order was correct and getting yourself ready. He agreed immediately and waved off your hesitance and told you he'd make the best playlist to ever exist—you put too much trust in him.

Before the party, you and Dream had taken a few shots together, just to get you to stop stressing over the planning of the party and Dream to stop worrying for you.

"Ready?" Dream smirked, his shot glass hanging loosely from his fingers. You nodded and then, at the same time, tapped the glass on the counter before you threw the shot back. The acetone taste of the vodka slid down your throats and you made disgusted faces at each other before a knock at the door indicated that your first guests were here.

Now, the party is in full swing and it's safe to say, there is definitely enough food.

When you see Sapnap at the food table, aka the kitchen counter, he thanks you for ordering non-spicy wings. You shake your head, laugh, and hug him tightly. "I'm serious," He mumbles with chicken in his mouth. "These are so~ good!"

The living room is cramped, but nobody seems to be complaining. Almost everyone from the apartment block is in your flat right now, with a few from other complexes. You lost sight of Dream a few hours ago, choosing to stay with your own friends while he hangs with his as the two groups don't usually mingle together.

“Niki!” You laugh whilst the girl finishes her second shot and passes the bottle of rum back to you. Shaking your head, you bring the large bottle to your lips, already regretting mixing different alcohols. You’d already had a few White Claws, thanks to Sapnap who kept challenging you to shotguns at the start.

Karl comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist before he snatches the bottle out of your hand and takes a swig.

“Karl!” Now, all three of you are laughing together. He slides his hand off of your stomach and stands to his full height, putting his lips to the White Claw can he holds in his other hand. You warn him about mixing alcohol, but he waves you off and assures you that he's fine.

The three of you stand on the dance floor, grooving to the beat of 'Super Freak' by Rick James. You grab Karl's hand to spin him around and then do the same to Niki, laughter filling the small space you have created in the middle of the crowd. You wouldn't admit it to Sapnap, but his playlist is actually good.

"Mi Amor!" The sound of Quackity's voice pulls you from your little group with Niki and Karl and you smile when you see his wide grin as he pushes past a few football players.

"Q! When did you get here? I didn't see you come in," You engulf him in a hug and giggle when he laughs loudly.

"I came in through the window," You pull back slightly to give him an incredulous look and shake your head. God, you are tipsy. "Nahhh, I had an exam, so I just got here."

You nod and feel the rum going straight to your head. Quackity then notices Karl and Niki behind you and gives them hugs too. You watch as your friends greet each other and turn to look at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. 10:33 pm.

“Guys, it's time for cake!” You shout over the music to Niki, Quackity and Karl and they smile and nod, all three of you migrating to the fridge to collect Dream’s cake and get it ready.

You pull a 3 layered vanilla cake out of the refrigerator. It is slathered in white icing and has rainbow sprinkles on the top with the words, ‘happy birthday dream’, in piped icing. Karl's mouth waters at the sight of the dessert and when he goes to get a dollop of icing from the side, you don’t smack his hand away—you have a plan.

Other guests see you preparing the candles and lighting them and turn off the lights for you. You smile at the 21 lit candles and pick up the cake, being careful not to trip on anything.

The entire room starts singing the ‘Happy Birthday’ anthem, their phones out to film as you spot Dream’s messy blonde hair over the crowd. He scrunches his face up in embarrassment and switches his beer from his right hand to his left to give you a side hug and a peck on the cheek when you approach him. The room sings and all attention is on him, but Dream only has eyes for you as you inch the cake closer so he can blow out his candles.

After he does so, the room erupts into cheers and then you give Dream a mischievous grin. There’s a little fear in his eyes and you launch the cake towards his face. Everybody laughs and hollers when you pull the cake stand away from him to see his face covered in white icing and rainbow sprinkles. Dream stands frozen for a moment, wiping his eyes with his free hand, before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to him, rubbing the icing in your hair and on your cheek.

“Dream!” You cackle, trying to push him off, but failing and eventually succumbing to his hold. The phone torches shine brightly at the two of you as people continue filming. His laughter is music to your ears.

Dream smiles down at you, eyes lazy and cheeks flushed. “Thank you,” He whispers. Your heart flutters in your chest and butterflies swarm your stomach as you nod. Everybody disperses and carries on with their previous antics, leaving you and Dream together.

“I got you a present, I’ll give it to you when everybody’s gone.”

The sentence makes the present seem more sensual than it actually is, and it makes Dream’s heart skip a beat—but he knows it’s not what he’s thinking. You pull away from Dream and wave back at him, knocking into a few people which elicits a laugh from him as he watches.

“Dude, you’re so fucked,” George says, smirking as he follows Dream’s gaze on you. Dream elbows George in the bicep.

“Fuck off.”

“Yeah bro, if you don’t make a move soon, someone else will,” Sapnap comments, coming up to stand on Dream’s other side. The urge to punch the both of them is strong, but instead, the blonde groans and skulls the rest of his beer as he loses sight of you in the crowd.

—

“Bye, guys! Thanks for coming!” Dream tries his best to look composed, but he’s so drunk. As soon as the door closes, he locks it and lets out a huge sigh. You come out of your room with the gift bag in your hands. Dream raises his eyebrows and attempts to give you a surprised look. “Wow, a present?”

You giggle and lead him to the couch. He flops down, throws his feet up and puts his hands behind his head. You sit next to him and shove the bag into his hands. “It’s not much, but you literally have everything already, so this is what I came up with.”

You hold your breath and you watch him pick through the bag. A smile breaks out on his face when he sees the CD. He flips it around to show you as if you haven’t seen it before and opens the case. “A mixtape? How romantic.”

The heat that rises to your cheeks is scolding and you stop yourself from choking. Dream, however, doesn’t look at you as he digs through and comments on every item. When he’s gone through every gift, he picks up the mixtape again and looks you dead in the eyes.

“This is the most thoughtful thing I’ve ever gotten for my birthday. Thank you, Y/n.”

You’re surprised. “The most thoughtful? It’s only a CD.”

Dream’s face contorts into one of confusion. “Only a CD? You made this for me with your own blood, sweat and tears.” You wouldn’t go that far.

“Oh, well, you’re welcome, I guess,” You laugh, reaching down to grasp his large hand. The action causes Dream to tilt his head and shift closer to you.

“Seriously, thank you. You mean so much to me,” He confesses, although you can barely hear it. You feel tears pricking your eyes as you watch him wipe his own. “Fuck, why am I getting emotional? It’s that fucking vodka, that’s why.”

“Don’t make up excuses, D,” You tease, squeezing his hand a few times. He wheezes lightly then sighs. His green eyes are so bright and there’s still a little smudge of icing on the side of his nose from the cake. You reach up and wipe it away, licking your thumb beforehand. Dream closes his eyes as you do so, biting his lip as you pull your hand away. 2:29 am.

“Okay, I think it’s time to get you to bed,” You mumble as you stand up, the moment broken. Dream nods, collecting his presents and chucking them all in the gift bag before he follows you to his room, a little disappointed.

Dream stands in the doorway and watches as you pull back his bed covers and turn on the lamp on his nightstand. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight,” You push past him before you turn. “I’ll have Gatorade and Advil ready for you in the morning, okay?”

Dream gives you a loving smile and nods, still holding the bag in front of him as he stands in the middle of his room. “Goodnight, Y/n, thanks for everything.”

You close the door behind you and when you get back to your room, you kick yourself for not making a move. You peel your clothes off of your body and throw them in the corner of the room, the space becoming too hot for your liking—maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the fact that it's summer, or maybe it's your utter embarrassment and regret; you don't bother to choose which one.

You flop down on your bed, half-naked, and stare at the ceiling. Why didn't you make a move? It was the perfect opportunity—

Your thoughts are forgotten when there's a soft knock on your bedroom door. You scramble to put some pyjamas on as you call, 'just a second!', and then you're swinging your door open.

Dream stands there in his sweatpants only. You resist the urge to rake your eyes down his torso.

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" The question surprises you—of fucking course it surprises you! The only reason he comes to your room at night is to vent; not like this.

"Uh, yeah," You reply, cracking the door open just a tad wider so he can slip through. Once he's inside, you sigh in confusion and close your door quietly. Dream is already sorting out the bed situation behind you, throwing your hundreds of throw pillows onto the floor and lifting up your duvet so he can slip under.

You tilt your head at him when he looks at you expectantly—you assume he's waiting for you to get in bed, which you do.

You rest your head on your pillow and turn your head to look at Dream, who is already staring at you. Your skin is hot and your heart is in your throat when you see how green his eyes are in the warm glow of your lamp.

"What's up?" You whisper although you didn't mean for it to come out so low. Dream's eyes trace your face; your eyes, eyebrows, nose, freckles, lips. "Dream?"

He's silent for a while and you guess it's because he's trying to figure out his drunken thoughts. "I just wanted to be with you, you know," He says, his voice breaking slightly. You suck in a breath, turning onto your side so you face him. "You planned my party all by yourself and I'm so happy you did."

You don't have the heart to tell him that George and Sapnap helped you, he looks so content. "I'm so glad, Dreamy," Your voice is velvety, and you can't help the warm feeling blooming in your chest. Dream's eyes travel from your own to your lips and stay there.

“C’mere," Dream mumbles. You barely nod before you lean closer to him.

You can tell Dream is figuring out what to do by the way his lips part and then close suddenly a few times, so, for the second time this week, you take things into your own hands.

You scoot closer to him, your breaths mixing in the small space between your lips and his nose bumping yours. You were so close. But not close enough.

"Dream, I'm gonna do something crazy, okay? Don't hate me," Here goes nothing.

"I could never hate you, baby," Dream murmurs, adjusting his head on his pillow. The pet name goes straight to your head and throwing out any and all rational thoughts, you lean in and place your lips softly on his.

It takes him a few seconds to react and in those moments, you fear you've made a huge mistake, but when his hands find your hips and pull you impossibly closer, you're glad you kissed him—are kissing him.

This is nothing like wine night a few weeks ago.

Your hands find the back of his head and tug on his hair lightly, earning a throaty groan. The sound makes you clench your fists and pull a little harder. You move your lips across his jaw and towards his ear. "Happy Birthday, birthday boy," You whisper.

Dream lets out a breathy laugh and hugs you closer. His face presses into your neck and you feel him leaving feather-light kisses on your skin. The feeling makes you giddy.

"I'm one lucky birthday boy, aren't I?" He mutters, pecking your neck firmer now. You giggle softly, running your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

"You bet your ass you are."

[chippedaxe]

𝔅𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔗𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Title: 𝔅𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔗𝔞𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤

Warning(s): NSFW (minors dni), coarse language, monster fucking, slight size kink, demons, virginity

Pronouns: they/them non specified genitalia .

Synopsis: characters from the dsmp are monster hybrids, this is how their s/o (the reader) reacts to them.

Note: There's not rlly a reason for why I wrote this. If you guys disagree with me on these then that's okay, I just thought of these on the top of my head and I agree that my ideas could be better. (The title could also be better lmao)

2nd note (edit): there’s sfw but nsfw is included, just steer away from the nsfw content whilst reading if you don’t want to read it <3

Word count: 1.1K

* added cut for less clutter

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

c!Dream

sfw

- He looks like a weird kind of blob to be honest but it's a bit cute

- He looks like he's covered in bits of slime or some weird type of green goo

- You like listening to his weird slime noises that he makes, it sounds like plops and its absolutely adorable.

- He talks normally like a human as well but you like his weird slime babbling better.

nsfw

- He feels so warm on your skin, the feeling he creates while he's inside of you (or you're inside him) is absolutely amazing and so euphoric.

- Everywhere gets dirty during sex, splatters of green goo or slime will be covering the walls and sheets.

- I feel like he would be touch starved from being a monster, not many people would go around him I assume. So he'd react kindly to your lewd touches and your praise~

c!Sapnap

sfw

- He's a type of blaze hybrid, he has sharp teeth and horns coming out from his forehead. He grumbles a lot and growls sometimes but you think its really cute (other people find it scary though)

- you could never find your baby scary <3 Ever since you guys met he was so kind to you, he'd keep you warm with his blaze rods and fire too ^^

- Such a sweetheart, you love to listen to the rumbling of his chest whenever you two lay together. He would probably be avoided during summer however since he'd just make the heat unbearable (you make it up to him at the end of summer)

nsfw

- Imagine him fucking you with those warm blaze rods of his (not my original idea, someone else had it but idk their @ )

- He's such a beast, there'd be claw marks on the walls and the mattress would almost always get destroyed from sex. Sapnap just can't help making a mess when you're making him feel so good..

- He'd like to nibble on you and leave deep bite marks while rutting into you, maybe even use his fire on you for some temperature play if you'd like something like that.

c!George

sfw

- I feel like he'd be a bit of a shapeshifter and his shape would shift depending on a dream he has/ had.

- You can recognize him even when he's in a new state due to his distinct personality and because of his shades that he carries on him.

- He's a naturally tired creature so he sleeps a lot, often inviting you to come and join him lovingly.

nsfw

- You'd always be intrigued with his new characters, eager to fuck each of his forms at least once. Your relationship together is very creative and curious, you guys will try anything and everything.

- Most sex together is sleepy sex, his hands will paw at you tiredly and you will have to put in most of the work.

- He can and will give you wet dreams by choice.

c!Eret

sfw

- He's a type of hybrid like medusa, his glasses are on at all times because if he takes them off then he'll turn you to stone.

- You have never seen her eyes before but that's alright, you still love them heaps.

- They will 100% kill anyone who gets to close to you with just a death stare, reassures you with lies that the person will be okay. They won't.

nsfw

- His scales feel rough against your skin, it makes the sex feel a whole lot different and exotic though so you really don't mind it.

- Her nails claw into you to keep you in place as she ruts into you with their hips, not wanting to let you go for at least another hour.

- Wraps their arms around you lovingly to keep you two close to each other, loves having you close to them while you perform such a beautiful act together.

c!Karl

sfw

- Have you seen his old skin?? I imagine something like that but in monster type form, I guess that he'd also be extremely rubbery and stretchy.

- He can stretch his arms around you to give you amazing hugs, finds it hard to unravel his arms from you though.

- I feel as if he wouldn't be able to speak coherent English and his words would be broken speech, if he doesn't try to speak English then he will just be making his own goofy noises.

nsfw

- Would be able to easily stretch if you were going to put something inside of him, I feel like he'd act so cute and lewd with his monster squeals too!!

- Fingering with him is fucking amazing, sex in general is amazing with him, he'd be able to stretch and basically shape himself into the perfect shape to be able to fuck your hole.

- He could easily tie you or himself up with his stretchy rubbery arms, makes your sex life a whole lot more exciting.

c!Punz

sfw

- I headcanon monster him as a human that was possessed by a demon and is now slowly turning into more of a demon.

- Tries to make deals with you for your soul but you reject him every time, surprised when he offers his love for free, you accept that graciously.

- Can reign hell fire and will if so pleases, definitely burns people who get to close to you or the people who hurt you in any.

nsfw

- He's a demon, he is naturally very tempting, so it doesn't take much for him to get you into his bed. "Come on baby, you can ride me and pull on my horns.." He's got you right where he wants you.

- He's naturally very warm from being a demon so you guys will often have very hot sweaty sex, resulting in you guys being gross and needing a wash afterwards.

- He would be eccentric if you were a virgin, he'd be like "awe, for me? You shouldn't have.." and then absolutely devour and rail the shit out of you to make a memorable experience.

[weatheredleatherhat]

This request is a little out of character for Heisenberg, but it’s based off a term I’ve seen around in the RE fandom regarding him. This, and the fact that I personally find his final form- off putting, to say the least, is why I want to reauest something with LycanBerg.

Heisenberg x Reader where Karl’s always either hiding his hands in his pockets or wearing his usual gloves when the reader’s around. Reader finds it strange but doesn’t question it until they visit Karl’s factory while he’s working and catches him scrambling to get his gloves on before he’s able to reach him. Reader asks why he’s always trying to hide his hands and Karl doesn’t wanna answer but after some coaxing, Karl gives him and shows the Reader his hands. They’re obviously scarred, but Karl also has lycan-like claws instead of nails, telling the Reader he’s always hid his hands out of fear of hurting them if he were to use a little too much force. Reader encourages Karl to hug them so he proves he won’t hurt them. Karl does it after having a little internal crisis, and cries a little bit cause he’s always been touch starved and is relieved he was able to break through, as well as be able to give his S/O the affection he’s always wanted to give them.

(Honestly, I also don’t really like his final form either. It’s cool and all but just doesn’t really… Make sense? Where does it all go? How does it all work? Monster fuckers like me were CONNED out of LycanBerg and up with this I will not put. I love this request tho; here you are!!)

You had a few theories about the hang-ups that Karl had about his hands, and why they were always covered. The first thought was that they could be badly scarred because of the multiple breaks and cuts he must have got from working for so long in the factory, so wearing gloves to keep them warm was to lessen the pain and prevent further injury. Another one was that it was a sensory thing; that they helped ground him, and protected him from touching something that wouldn’t feel nice to him. Or it was just plain habit to have his hands covered.

You didn’t expect to see the sharp, almost feral looking claws that he truly hid under the leather.

You had taken him by surprise, the first time you saw them. You had decided to take lunch down to his desk, considering he had probably barely eaten more than one meal for days. With a plate filled with his favourite foods in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, you didn’t have enough hands to knock, deciding to call out that you were coming in while turning the handle with your elbow.

He mustn’t have heard you, since when the door opened and he saw you, his face fell as he scrambled for his gloves on his desk, turning his back to you and fumbling to get them on. Panic made the task harder, and you could hear the frantic breathing of panic. “Sh-shit Buttercup, hang on, don’t come in, just… Fuck!”

You’d already seen them, though. The claws that he had, instead of average fingernails. Your first emotion was shock; did you really see what you had just seen? Is this why he was hiding his hands all this time? Your brain kicked into logical mode as you carefully set what you were carrying down on a nearby workbench before taking tentative steps towards him. “Karl…”

“No!” he roared, causing you to pause. His pants become ragged, and you could see his shoulders shaking. “Stay away from me, Buttercup… Please. I don’t want you to see it.”

You could feel your heart breaking for him. In all the time you had known him, you had never seen him so downtrodden. He always had this air of surety about him; he knew who he was, what he was, and what he was doing. But to see him like this… You couldn’t bear it. You took careful steps towards him until you were beside him, and you could see him wringing the gloves in his hands, throttling the avatar of that he considered his greatest physical weakness. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he flinched at the contact. You softly sighed, rubbing his shoulder. “Let me see, Karl. I promise I won’t run.” You filled your voice with empathy and care, hoping it would reach him.

He sat stock still for what seemed like eternity, before slowly placing the gloves on his desk and swivelling in his chair to face you. He had his head lowered, gaze burning holes into the concrete by his feet as he held out shaky hands towards you. “I’m a… I’m a monster, Buttercup. More than you already knew. I’m sorry.”

You took his hands into yours so carefully, as if they were made of glass and would shatter at any seconds. Up close, you could see the extent of the mutation in them. They looked normal for the most part, scarred and calloused from heavy labour, except for the massive, long dark claws that erupted from the nail bed. You were always aware of how large his hands were, but your own now seemed so tiny in compared to them. Your eyebrows furrowed in thought as you carefully rubbed the pads of your thumbs over his knuckles. “Do they hurt?”

He huffed out a short laugh in disbelief, shaking his head as he looked up to stare down at your connected hands. “No,” he said softly, voice hollow. “But I’m terrified of hurting you with them. If that ever happened, I…”

You shushed him tenderly, bringing his hands up to your lips and planting small kisses across the expanse of them. Each knuckle carefully kissed, up to the backs of his hands, and even the claws themselves. He seemed frozen in place as you did it, and you could tell he was holding his breath at points. When you pulled away, you curled them into your chest, nestled them next to your heart. You made eye contact with you, and he looked at you with such adoration and hope you could melt. “I love you, Karl,” you murmured, a soft smile on your face. “I trust you so much. I know for a fact you won’t hurt me, because I know you. And I know that it doesn’t matter to me what you look like. You’re still the same person inside.”

He clung onto your every word, his eyes widening with each one. When you let go to pull him into your embrace, his arms flew around your waist, hugging you tightly as he rest his cheek on your chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, one hand smoothing back his hair between kisses to the top of his head. You swore you heard him sniffle, but you wouldn’t question it. You both needed this moment in silence, of quiet contemplation and adoration. You held him the way he needed to be held, a way that he hadn’t before. He had bared his greatest shame to you, and you had accepted it wholly. To him, you were everything. You were solace, you were home. An anchor in the storm that he found himself in. He found himself adoring you that little bit more.

You chuckled softly after a few long moments, breaking the silence. “Besides, you’ve been putting up with my unkempt eyebrows for this long.”

That got him laughing. Looking up at you, chin resting on your sternum, he looked every bit in love as he felt as he studied your features. “I like your eyebrows. Gives you character.”

With shared humour, you both felt healed. With one last kiss you pulled away, fetching the reason you came down here and setting it on his desk. “Cold meats, potatoes, vegetables and a coffee to wash it all down with.” You ruffled his hair playfully as you started to make your way back up to the living quarters to get some chores done. You stopped at the door, pointing at him with mock sternness. “And I want a clean plate and cup coming back up, you hear me?”

He laughed at you, shaking his head as he picked up the fork and popped a carrot into his mouth, saluting at you with two fingers. “Roger that, Buttercup.”

From then on, you saw him a lot more without anything covering his hands. He still wore his gloves for the most part during the day, but he took them off as he toed off his boots when he came into the living quarters each evening, setting them on the console table beside the door. You were glad that he was letting them breathe, and you made it a point to show his hands tenderness whenever you could. You even managed to let him pamper them a couple of times. Massaging them with oils and lotions to get them a little softer, filing down the claws to take the edge off, taking your time to worship them like you would any other part of him. He would pay you back with overwhelming adoration, and letting you know just how much it meant to him.

It didn’t matter to you that he had his flaws. You had yours, and he had his. All you knew was that you adored him with all your heart.

[hivesfics]

Warnings- dark content, fuck or die, minors dni

Content Warnings:

heisenberg has lycan-like features, sharper teeth, sharper nails.Knotting, rough sex, probably can be considered animalistic, cumplay, messy sex, lots of growling, biting, hair pulling, scratching. (Also ik he is not a werewolf himself i just think it'd be hot) breeding kink

An odd spore has taken root in the depths of Heinsenberg's lab, upon doing research the two of you suffer the effects of it.

"A FUCKING WHAT?!" Karl shouts, towering over you.

"And you didn't think to- I don't know- block off the fuckin' area?" He growls, glaring down at you.

"A spore known as Cupiditas Spora, its effects manifest as lust. Once the fungus releases the spores, it takes at least an hour for its effects to begin."

"You and I are the only ones who are authorized for this level of the lab so I didn't think about it, sir."

"So how in Miranda's name do we remove the effects?"

"The effected individual or individuals usually, must participate in coitus."

"Can y'use simpler terms?"

"Well- for lack of term, they have to fuck." You mutter, playing with the edge of the coat you wear.

"You know I hate when you fuckin mumble." He groans, grabbing your jaw, tilting your face up to his.

"So speak the fuck up, and quit with your damn terminologies."

"Sex! The infected must fuck!" You shout, face flushed.

You could already feel the effects of the spore, heat pooling in your abdomen. Or maybe it was just the feeling of his hand on you.

"There ain't any other way?"

"No. Simply put, if the individuals don't have sex, they'll die. Now- I'm not sure how it will effect your- well the lycan DNA you possess thanks to Mother Miranda."

"Gods- don't mention her when you're talking about sex." Karl groans, releasing his hold on you.

"My apologies. Throughout this do I have your permission to document more information on the effects of the spore?"

"You really think you'll be lucid enough to do that?" He scoffs, looking you up and down.

Judging by his body language, he's begun to feel something.

"It wouldn't hurt to try to be." You shrug, removing your coat as your body temperature rises.

"Stripping already, pet?"

"Its hot in here, I suggest you do the same. Seeing as we'll be nude anyways." You say as you make your way to your desk, shedding your shirt as you sit down.

Hands immediately busying themselves with a pen, writing down how the spore is effecting you.

"You're enjoying this aren't you? Being your own little science experiment, dragging me into this. If you wanted to fuck me s'bad you coulda just said so." Heisenberg sits on the edge of your desk, hat, jacket, and glasses removed.

"I did not drag you into this. You came down here yourself- y'know if you listened more often you'd remember I told you that I had a possibly dangerous fungus down here." You grit out, your cunt throbbing.

You wanted to fight the effects as long as you could, not wanting to submit to the primal urges within. Wanting to document as much as you could.

"Shut your fuckin mouth, unless you wanna use it for somethin' more useful than bitchin' at me." He removes his oil covered gloves, setting them on your desk.

Hes so close you can smell the cigars he smokes on him. The oil and natural musk.

You grab hold of the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to your level. Eyes lidded as you smash your lips to his. You feel him grin against you, teeth, much sharper than they usually appear, nipping at your bottom lip.

Your curiosity gets the best of you, pulling away. You're in visible awe as you pull and touch at his mouth. Examining the sharp points of his canines.

He slaps your hands away, grabbing them in one of his larger ones. Holding them so you don't fuck with his face again.

"Next time you pull away to study me like some fuckin pooch, I'm putting some cuffs on you." He growls, grabbing a handful of you hair to keep your head still so he can kiss you again.

Your underwear was absolutely soaked, sticking to your crotch.

Despite the fact that the kiss was all teeth, it spurred you on further. Panting and moaning against him.

He suddenly pulls away, a glint of mischief behind his lust blown pupils and glazed over eyes. Before you can react, he's swiped everything off of your desk and made quick work of bending you over it.

"Bastard." You growl, pouting at the papers scattered on the lab floor.

"Hush now, pet."

He doesn't even bother with removing your pants or underwear, simply using a newfound claw to rip the crotch open.

"I just convinced Mother Miranda to allow me to wear those!"

Heisenberg grabs the base of your throat, snarling in your ear.

"What did I tell you about mentioning that bitch?"

You mutter out an apology, the cool air of the lab feeling heavenly on your heated skin.

"Hurry and get this over with so I can go back to- oh dear heavenly mo-"

Before you can finish your sentence, three of Karl's fingers lodge themselves into your mouth.

"Next time I'm cutting your tongue out." He remarks, pulling on the said muscle.

Its all bark and no bite, his other hand on your hip as he pushes further into your cunt.

"Fuck- how could you keep this from me." He moans, pulling out to slam right back in.

His hand leaves your mouth, grabbing at your breast.

"Shut up- cocky little-"

"Thats no way- shit- to talk to the man saving your life."

"Saving your own ass. Just- just fuck me!" You whine, it felt like your insides were boiling.

Karl rolls his eyes, snapping his hips. Those claws of his digging into the fat of your hips.

He could feel his thoughts melting into incomprehensible blurs of you.

"Going to fill this perfect cunt- defile it with my seed." He growls, its the most lucid thought he has.

You aren't much better, babbling and moaning, hands clawing at your desk. The only thing he can make out from you is his name.

Something swells at the base of his dick, piquing your interest. You can't speak, the thought dissipates as you feel the knot in your stomach tightening.

His hands claw at your sides, he's snarling as he leans down and bites your shoulder.

"Oh fuck!" You sob, thighs shaking as you reach your peak.

"Gonna flood that pussy." He growls as he pushes the swell of his knot into you.

And that he does, you shake and moan at the warm feeling.

"And you thought you'd be lucid enough to document." Karl chuckles breathlessly.

"Lycan cock." You mutter, panting against the desk.

"Good huh?"

"Think I need another example." You tease.

"Oh I can do that darling."

[batwritings]

Okay hear me out, you are talking so someone and DreamXD gets all grumpy about it but you just tell him to relax. The reason he's with you is to learn how to blend in with other human, so he should be watching how you act. Well manz watches to closely and gets all bother. Later after you both go home or just somewhere else that's when he gets ya. He's all like “what?” as his whole goal is to get you all bothered, but he's kinda mean and he knows how much you love his voice so he uses it to his advantage.

I am so sorry I have personally put my own meaning on “fuck god”

 Friend? Never apologize for putting that spin on “fuck god”. :) Plus, you’re playing into the voice kink, how could I say no? Enjoy~!

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

DreamXD huffed as he followed behind you and he knew you heard it. “Are you gonna grump the whole time Mister?” you chuckled, turning your head slightly to smile at him. The god of the SMP had reached out to you some time ago for your help in blending in more with the humans he watched over. At the time, you had questioned why he wouldn’t ask someone closer to Dream himself, like George. While XD didn’t exactly explain, you let it slide, allowing him to shadow you in a sense.

“I just don’t get why we have to meet with this person in particular,” he grumbled, picking up his step to walk beside you. 

“Sapnap’s my friend too,” you responded. You often wondered if XD and Dream shared similar emotions towards people. While you were told that they didn’t, adamantly so by the being beside you, you still couldn’t help but wonder.

“And you’re sure this interaction will help me blend in better?” He hums quietly, contemplative.

“Positive!” you answer, voice chipper and now excited. You notice your friend and one of his fiance’s in the distance and wave to them. “That’s Sapnap’s fiance Karl! You know what that is right?” When you can practically feel the eye-roll from behind his mask, you nod and lead him to the clearing.

Your interaction wasn’t meant to be long, just catching up with the two and learning about Kinoko Kingdom. You introduce them to DreamXD and you notice Sapnap narrow his eyes a bit. You assure the fiery man that he has nothing to do with Dream, that you trust the god and that he is indeed safe. The ravenette seems skeptical but moves on in conversation.

The entire time, XD is watching you carefully. Bright neon green eyes watch your every movement, listens to every word and laugh and noise that falls from your lips. He can feel his body heating up under his cloak and that’s when he chooses to speak up.

“Darling,” he coos, voice distorted and echoing. Something shoots up your spine at that, something you hope your two friends don’t notice. “Think we can go home? There’s something I need to go over with you, remember?” He wasn’t entirely lying, but even he realized it was a pretty piss-poor excuse.

You smile up at him as if to say “really?” but nod approvingly. You bid your farewells to Sapnap who takes a little longer to hug you as he’s afraid to let you go. XD doesn’t let that go unnoticed, deciding to file it away for later questions.

Once home you sigh, setting down your bag and beginning to settle back in. “Pet,” you hear him say, still awkwardly standing in your doorway. Another shiver shoots up your spine at his tone.

“Y-yeah?” you respond, heading towards your bedroom upstairs. He follows you almost dutifully after hanging his cloak at the door.

“I think I’m starting to get a better understanding of humans,” he says, voice low and seductive as he starts down the hall ahead of you. “You use words and embraces to show your affection yes? To show you care?”

You watch him sit back on your bed, legs spread for you to sit between. You do so without hesitation, something you did quite frequently with him. “Mhmm,” you respond, leaning back against his chest. “What’s with the voice big guy?”

Pale, freckled arms reach around your tummy to hold you close. They’re freezing, but not uncomfortably so. “What do you mean darling?” He answers as he his thumbs draw gentle circles on your sides, making you squirm a little in your grasp. “Don’t you like my voice? Like it when I call you nice names?”

“I-I do! I really do!” you exclaim. You shift in your spot to straddle his hips and look at him properly. Your gentle hands move his mask to the side, something he would only ever allow you to do. You were so special to him. “It’s just...”

“What, pet?” DreamXD moves his hands to your hips, clawed hands gently ghosting over slightly exposed skin. “I think it’s only fair. You got me all bothered under my cloak back there. I get to rile you up a bit too, hmm?”

The echoes and distortions grow louder as they bounce off your humble home’s walls. Only stutters slip from your lips then, leaning up against him until your lips meet, soft and gentle. You used to hate how gentle XD was with you until you let him let go once and couldn’t get anything done for the rest of the week. You knew he could break you physically and mentally all with his words and it really did something for you.

You felt his member hard against your sex and it had you gasping. It was always a bit of a marvel at how big he was, sometimes forgetting that he was a god after all. He chuckles when you gasp into his mouth, lips moving as you scramble to catch up with what he’s saying.

“What an eager little thing,” he coos, his claws tugging at your pants. “And all from my voice. Guess I should let you take me out more often hmm? I’d love to see how desperate you would get in public.”

You keen at his words, shifting yourself until you can pull of your pants and underwear. You reach to the side into your bedside table, hand barely able to keep hold of the lube once you have it. You slick up your fingers and slide one in, your hole taking your digit easily.

“That’s my sweet little thing,” your hear XD chuckle. His slid his member out of his lovely robes and you’re almost a little intimidated. Gods he’s so big, but you know he’ll be patient with you as he always is. You’re his precious human after all. “Add another finger for me darling.”

You do as he asks, knowing you’ll be stretched out in no time. One thing DreamXD became ecstatically hooked on after discovering it through you was sex. You were rarely left unfilled, the god loving how you felt around him. It wasn’t long before you felt the need to add a third digit, eagerly pumping them in and out of your hole.

“You’ll feel so good around me dear,” he huffed, smiling at you with bright eyes and sharp teeth. “My precious Y/N.”

A low whine leaves you as you quickly sit back up, pressing the head of his cock to your entrance and beginning the slow slide of him into you. You both are groaning in unison, him from the feeling of you sliding down his member and you from the almost overwhelming sensation of being so full. You watch with rapt attention at the small bulge in your stomach.

“So full,” hums, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His arms encircle you again, liking the feeling of your body pressed close to him. You wrap your arms around his neck as you slowly lift yourself off his length before sliding back down. “Just as I knew you would be.”

You’re panting just from being full of your ethereal lover, his cock pressing against all of your sensitive nerves. You know you won’t last long, you never do. XD never seems to mind, but this time he seems determined. He wants to reach that high with you. You watch his every expression as you ride him, your hole fluttering with each sweet word that gets warped and growled.

You start to notice a pattern; every time you pull just to the head of his member and clench, his breath catches. Using this to your advantage, your pace picks up, being sure to keep focused on each step as you ride him. Little gasps start to leave his throat, his words starting to fail him and eyes glossing over.

“Cum with me XD,” you whine, teetering on the edge. “Feel the pleasure of being human.” Sharp teeth bite into your shoulder, pushing you into your climax with force. You can barely register yourself being filled until you start to come down from your peak, feeling the wetness drip down your thighs.

DreamXD let’s go of your shoulder, kissing and licking at the open wound. He presses a kiss just below your ear with panting breaths. “Thank you, Y/N,” he whispers lowly. “I’m learning so much from you.”

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 18 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Title: Succession Chapter 18

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader

Rating: NC-17 for sex and language (soft sex, P in V, unprotected sex *wrap it up, kids*)

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter 18

Heisenberg laid on his stomach with his arms pushed underneath his pillow.  He closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly, his face turned towards you.  The crackling of the fire sounded from the hearth.  The sheets sat over his body from the waist down.  

He smiled at the feel of your fingertips skating along his back.  You laid on your side, your head resting on your arm.  A heavy blanket covered you from the waist down.  You weren’t as used to the cold as Heisenberg.  Your gaze took in his back, his biceps, his mussed hair falling around his face, and the peaceful expression on his features.

“Your fingers on my skin are so relaxing…” Heisenberg murmured.  You smiled at his words.  The man probably didn’t know much peace in a place like this.  His constant work in the factory, hours and hours working on his army in order to carry out revenge on the woman who took him from his family...you wondered how much sleep he allowed himself before you came along.

“Are all of your scars from years of working in the factory?” you asked, trailing your index and middle finger down the thick scar tissue on his bicep.  Heisenberg opened his eyes and looked at you.  You were focused on his skin, your touches light and soft.  

The question brought back memories...memories of a day that felt long ago but also seemed so recent.

“Some of them are,” he replied, “working with metal, tools, jagged scrap metal.  But most of them are from something else…”

You sensed the unease of his answer and how he was careful with how it was worded.  “You don’t have to tell me if it’s personal or too difficult,” you said, your hand moving up to pull the hair away from his face.  

Heisenberg’s gaze looked over your features.  You smiled softly and it was like a rusted knife in his heart.  Your eyes on his made him want to look elsewhere or turn his face away.  He felt happy with you, happy for the first time in years...for the first time since…

“About thirty years ago, I fell in love with a girl who lived in the village.  She and her family had fled from Bosnia before the conflict started in 1992.  They settled here.  Her father was a painter...her mother a schoolteacher.  I was walking through the village and saw her gathering eggs from her family’s chickens...I fell in love with her the moment I saw her…”

You listened intently, intrigued by the way he described the girl.  He looked as if it was the first time he had thought of or spoken of her in a long while.

“...I didn’t speak of her to Miranda or the others, but they started to become suspicious of my absence.  We kept it a secret from her family as well.  She would sneak away, come here to be with me…”  

He didn’t say the words, but the silence spoke volumes.  A sliver of jealousy pricked at your heart knowing that he probably fucked her in this same room as he did with you.  But you pushed your feelings aside.  It was naive to think that he never had a lover in all of the years he had been alive.

“...when Miranda’s experiments began to increase and she took more and more of the villagers, I begged the girl to hide here with me, but she wouldn’t leave her family.  She tried to warn them, but their faith in Miranda was unwavering…”

You knew that this story wouldn’t have a happy ending.  The village was now desolate and empty.  Lycans ran wild.  Aside from Heisenberg, Miranda, and his siblings, there wasn’t anyone left.  Anxiety slowly rose in your stomach as you continued to listen.

“...Miranda took her family one by one...saved her for last.  I ran to her house to bring her back here, but the place was empty.  By the time I got to the ceremony site, Miranda had infected her with the Cadou…”

You released the breath you didn’t know you had been holding.  Your fingers held his bicep, gripping tighter and tighter as the story continued.  “What did it do to her?” you asked.

“She laid there unconscious,” Heisenberg answered, “I thought she was dead.  She was cold to the touch and her skin was pale...but then she opened her eyes.  Those beautiful eyes of hers...there was no trace of her left.  The Cadou...it turned her into a lycan.  She changed so fast.  Her teeth and claws cut through my clothes and into my skin.  I pushed her away, but she jumped on me and continued to attack me.  She swiped at my face, cut across my nose...she almost gouged my eye out.  Miranda and the others simply stood back and watched.  The more I tried to subdue her and press her to the ground, the more violent she became.  She was gone...and I didn’t have a choice…”

Tears threatened your eyes.  “You killed her…”

“Yeah.  I snapped her neck...she went limp instantly.  All I could do was hold her, rock her in my arms...tell her I was sorry.  Miranda looked defeated, not because the girl had died, but because the Cadou failed.  I looked to Miranda and she simply shook her head and walked away…”

Your heart broke for Heisenberg.  “I’m so sorry, Karl,” you whispered.

Heisenberg rolled onto his side and faced you.  “Moreau followed me back here and patched me up.  Sowed the deep cuts and dressed my wounds.  When he was done, all I did was tell him to get the fuck out...I didn’t even thank him…”

You moved closer, pressing your body to his, and softly kissed his cheek.  “So that is the real reason why you didn’t want me to leave...if Miranda finds me, she’ll experiment on me, too…”

“Yes,” he replied gruffly, “I won’t put you through that.  You mean too much to me…”

You looked into Heisenberg’s eyes, your lips parting slightly.  “I mean something to you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He lifted his hand and softly caressed your cheek, his gaze fused to yours.  “Yes.  Y/N...I’m falling in love with you…”

Your breath was lodged in your chest.  Time seemed to stop.  The cold wasn’t as intense anymore.  The sentiment you felt towards him had just slipped past his lips.  You smiled softly.

“Karl...I’m falling in love with you, too…”

The edges of his mouth curled into a sincere smile.  His amber eyes were warm and tender.  This moment must have been the first time in a long time, perhaps the first time in thirty years, that he felt love.  His stubbornness and rigid manner when it came to you and keeping you in the factory were clear.  He wanted to keep you safe.  He wanted to right the wrong he made all those years ago.

Heisenberg’s lips pressed to yours softly.  His arm wrapped around your body, his hand pressing to your back, pulling you against him.  Your arms wrapped around his neck as you rolled to your back, pulling him on top of you.

He moaned as he felt your legs part.  His body molded to yours perfectly.  You released a shaky breath as his lips trailed across your cheek and down your jaw.  

Solitude was something you had become accustomed to over the years.  It had become so common that you forgot just how painful loneliness felt.  That pain had dulled and transformed into something familiar and regular with each passing day, month, and year.  You had long forgotten that it wasn’t normal to feel that way.

Heisenberg knew solitude just as much as you.

“Karl…” you moaned, arching into his body.  His lips trailed down your neck and to your breasts.  His mouth worshipped your soft flesh.  You felt his cock slowly harden between your legs and it made you wet.

“I need you, Y/N,” he growled between your breasts.  You spread your legs wider and rolled your hips.

“Yes,” you whispered.

He reached for his dick and slowly pushed inside of you.

Heisenberg’s mouth went to your ear and he grunted softly with every thrust.  Your arms held him close to your body, his skin pressed to yours.  His body rocked with yours, his touches and kisses soft and intimate.  Your head pushed back into the pillow, feeling his cock pulsing inside of you.  

“Y/N...oh fuck...yes…” he moaned into your neck, his arms holding you tight.  His hips began to thrust faster, the soft and sweet movements becoming hurried and passionate.  You lifted your legs higher and circled them around his waist.  His teeth nibbled at your skin and his tongue licked along the marks they left behind.

“Karl...Karl...please make me cum…” you begged, your fingers digging into his back.  The bed creaked as he thrusted harder.  His right hand moved to your lower back, pulling you closer, making you arch upwards into his body.  Tears slid from the corners of your eyes, his mouth and hands worshipping you in ways you only dreamed of.

“I love you, Y/N…” he whispered gruffly into your ear, “...cum for me...cum for me…”

His words pulled your orgasm to the forefront.  You held onto his bucking body tightly, feeling the skin of his groin rubbing back and forth along your clit.  Tossing your head back, you screamed his name again and again as you came.  Heisenberg was desperately barreling his length into you as you yelled for him.  With a guttural growl, burying his face into your neck, he emptied his cum inside of you.

In a tangle of arms and legs, the both of you continued to slide against one another, your orgasms subsiding.  You smiled as you felt Heisenberg’s full lips kiss along your shoulder and collarbone.  The tickle of his beard and the soft aftershocks made you quiver underneath him.  His tongue licked from your chest, up your neck, and to your waiting mouth.  The kiss was soft, deep, and probing.  He kissed you in a way that could only be described as heavenly.

“I won’t let her take you from me,” Heisenberg whispered against your lips, “I’ll die before that bitch lays one hand on you…”

[saipng]

Warming up

Fandom: Resident Evil (8 in particular)

Pairing: Ethan Winters/Karl Heisenberg

Rating: E

Word Count: 13,803

hey guess what i can post the full fic from my laptop lol so this is basically a reupload!

AO3 link in replies

Ethan accepts Heisenberg's offer and learns how to negotiate.

(P.S: Technically PWP but there is a tiny bit of P in the beginning, just to set things up. Lighting some candles, putting on some music, pouring some wine. You know how it is)

(P.P.S: There aren't any actual candles, wine, or music in this fic. I'm sorry.)

“Take a seat.”

The rusted, sickly looking chair clattered against the floor helplessly, its sad little legs looking as though they would give out underneath their own weight any second now – much less Ethan’s.

He did not take a seat.

Heisenberg turned his back, walked across the room to a small table with a blistering desk lamp at the other end. You’re not a threat to me, his body language all but screamed.

You’re nothing.

“Listen, Ethan, you’re being played-“

Ethan, in turn, felt his own body seize up.

“What are you talking about!? You think this is a game!?”

There was a second - half a second - where the other man stopped fiddling with his cigar, turned his head towards him giving him a look so pointed it bore right through the tiny jet black shades. And in the very next moment Heisenberg was throwing a steel blade into the poster laden wall, metal glinting as it flew through the air. Ethan could barely follow the movement with his eyes before he was suddenly being shoved onto the flimsy chair, its legs stubbornly refusing to collapse against all odds.

Heisenberg looked down at him, sneering.

Ethan couldn’t help the shaky breath.

Most dangerous of them all, Duke’s words echoed in his head, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. His knees felt weak.

And he could swear the man in front of him looked delighted to tower over him like this.

But then he took a step backwards, then another, and then, when he was certain enough Ethan wouldn’t dare make another move, he turned back towards the board, pointing at each one of his siblings in turn.

“Lady super-sized bitch...”- A glint, and the knife was slashing through the air, pulling right out of Dimitriscu’s face, leaving an ugly mark in between her eyes with a particular sort of malice.

“Ugly ass psycho doll...”- The knife stabbed into Donna Beneviento’s torso, the crack of wall underneath the poster almost painful.

“And that moronic freak.”

The blade easily lodged itself somewhere in Moreau’s face, or maybe his neck, maybe somewhere around the eyes or the shoulder – both Heisenberg and the knife barely spared the last sibling a second’s thought and the man turned back to Ethan, his hands outstretched.

“Don’t you get it? It’s a test, to see if you’re strong enough to be a part of Miranda’s family!”

“I don’t WANT to be a part of Miranda’s family-“- Ethan was growling before he could really think, and Heisenberg kept looking at him like he was saying all the wrong things.

“Neither did I. But here we are!”- He circled back, something in his voice cracking, -“And I’m next in line, right? Kill me, move up the chain! Well, fuck that!”

And with a quick sweep of his hand, the metal wall was splitting in two.

Miranda’s portrait tore.

Ethan felt nauseous.

“I don’t give a damn about your personal issues!”- He was sputtering incredulously, not knowing why he was expecting all of this to start making sense when it wasn’t, -“I just want to fix my daughter!”

And to his great surprise, Heisenberg laughed.

“So do I!”- He grinned, ear to ear, fists shaking, -“Do you have any idea how powerful that kid is? Even Miranda’s scared of her-“

It was then that whatever horror was lurking beneath them began revving its engines up again, and images of chainsaws and lawn mowers began to flash across Ethan’s mind. He grit his teeth while Heisenberg roared at whoever it was to quiet down, daring to tear his eyes away for a glance towards the hole.

Tufts of white smoke clouded the room below. He’s been around this accursed village long enough to know that there was nothing good waiting for him down there. He’s known Heisenberg for long enough to figure that whatever it was was sharp. And painful.

His captor looked at him for a moment. Took another to inhale deeply and look away.

Ethan could empathize. He could hardly catch his own breath.

Heisenberg removed his glasses.

“You and me, Ethan,”- He pleaded, and really, there was no better word to describe his voice just then - this monster pleaded with him and Ethan felt something in his neck crack, -“Together, we go and save Rose — and then we can use her to grind Miranda into paste!”

“My daughter is not a weapon,”- Ethan growled back at him, his chest hollow, -“Fuck you!”

Heisenberg took a step back. Looked at him for that one agonizing moment once more. Ethan expected more pleading. More reasoning that he would have to refute. A conversation.

What he didn’t expect was the chair flying right underneath him, the other man boring into his arm with an iron grip as Ethan dangled on flimsy footing right above the room that filled his lungs with nightmares.

His own hand clung frantically to Heisenberg’s, body faintly remembering what survivor’s instinct was.

“Last chance,”- The other man said, his face a spasm between amusement and frustration. I’m holding the trump card now, that expression told him.

I won, so why do you refuse to see it?

“You don’t want to find out what’s in that hole,”- He added as though for emphasis, and Ethan didn’t tear his eyes away.

Couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He thought of Rose bubbling around in pieces. Thought of her crying.

Thought of Miranda’s hands.

A painful current passed through his spine, and just like that, his mind was electrified. His stomach was turning.

The soles of his shoes were beginning to slip.

“I am not using my daughter,”- Ethan told him through clenched teeth, and felt the grip on his arm falter. He exhaled shakily through his nose, his own fingers curling tighter.

Heisenberg raised his chin up, and Ethan had to force the next words out through his red-hot sternum.

“But-“

He exhaled, that single syllable just as painful as a scythe through his leg. A knife through his ribs.

“-if Miranda really is as strong as you say she is-”

Coiling his fingers, Heisenberg gave him a barely noticeable pull, his eyes squinting. Ethan swallowed down the bitter bile rising in his throat.

“Well. We’re not exactly left with a lot of options.”

Another pull, and he was standing on solid ground now – still precariously close to the gaping hole, a single firm push away, but at least no longer dangling over it like some helpless worm.

The other man levelled him with a gaze, mouth thin. He didn’t let go of his arm.

“What, exactly, are you proposing?”

Ethan didn’t let go either.

“A truce.”

Heisenberg’s eyebrows shot up.

“You want to partner up?”

“Call it whatever you want, but it sounds like you’re going to need all the manpower you can get,”- Ethan took a step forward, unnecessary but needed. His grip tightened. He could negotiate this, -“And I sure as hell am not going to turn out the only helping hand that’s been offered – even if it is yours.”

He could save Rose.

That was all that mattered.

Heisenberg made a sudden noise, something between a gasp and a chuckle. Something angry. Something incredulous.

“So now it’s you doing me a favor!?”

“Take it or leave it,”- He offered cautiously, words somehow both softer and harsher than he intended, -“We rescue Rose. Make sure she’s safe. Kill Miranda. This was always the plan, and I will do it with or without you.”

And just as he was certain no more words were needed, he found himself talking anyway.

“Help out or don’t get in my way.”

He watched the other man watch him, his eyes all too sharp without the shades, all too quick and bright on that gray and beige face, and Ethan’s pulse began to quicken once more. His breath hitched.

He hated the way his breath hitched.

His arm was beginning to ache.

Just as suddenly and impulsively as everything else he’s seen this man do, Heisenberg was throwing his head back, his laughter echoing up and down and out of the hole, mixing in with the revving noises that once again filled up the electric air.

“There’s that unfounded confidence that kept you breathing through the night!”- He roared over the sound of metal splitting metal, arms wide as he finally let go of Ethan, taking a large step back and putting his sunglasses back on, -“Now I see what’s been keeping them all hooked!”

Ethan turned his head in the direction of “them”, took one more look at the faces of the people – the monsters – he’s slaughtered in the course of the day.

He tried to suppress whatever feeling was beginning to claw its way up his throat.

By the time he turned back towards Heisenberg he could only see the man’s back briskly striding down a hall he could swear wasn’t there just a moment ago, beckoning him to follow.

“Let’s get moving then, Ethan!”- He yelled, voice faint over the constant noise that Ethan was now beginning to associate with the sound of a plane propeller and certain death, -“Can’t even hear myself think in this goddamn shithole!”

He spat that last part as though it was an insult to whomever – or whatever – it was that so insistently kept on interrupting their conversation, and Ethan realized that he could move again. Inhaling sharply before taking a couple of all too precarious steps away from the hole, he finally resolved to trudge along behind, only briefly wondering if this decision was eventually going to get him killed.

He didn’t want to think whether it would get Rose-

He couldn’t think about it.

“I’m assuming you have some sort of a plan,”- He said instead, if only not to think.

“Some sort of a- Are you kidding me?”- Heisenberg snarled, not bothering to turn around as they made their way down a shoddy corridor that looked as though touching any surface would give you instant tetanus, -“What, you think I was going to walk up to Miranda, shove a gun in her face, and hope for the best?”

He didn’t look back as he said this either – Ethan knew exactly what his face looked like just then anyway.

“Has been working out for me so far,”- He muttered under his breath, kicking at a loose screw on the floor.

“Yes, well, it’s not going to work against her.”

They finally reached a single door decorated with a large golden horse crest. Heisenberg fumbled inside his coat pockets before pulling out a large keychain with a single key.

It glinted in the dim light.

“A whole army isn’t going to work against her.”

He threw the door open, and Ethan suddenly saw the inside of a surprisingly accommodating room that did not belong in this run down factory. It bore a single metal framed bed tucked away in a far corner, a tiny kitchenette right across from that, and a small round metallic table and couple of equally metallic rusted through chairs strewn about that looked only slightly sturdier than the one he found himself sitting in and falling out of mere moments ago. Random scraps and chunks littered the floor, paper and metal and god knew what else. The space looked barely used, counters barren and bed sheets made, yet Ethan still felt out of sorts stepping into what he could only presume were Heisenberg’s personal quarters.

“And we have that? An army?”- He asked uncertainly after looking around, wondering whether they came here to retrieve said army and whether it could be found biding its time in the rickety wardrobe to his right.

“Oh, we have so much more than that,”- Heisenberg grinned at him, reaching back into his coat to tuck away the key ring and bring out a new cigar instead, placing it against his lips as he struggled with a box of matches, -“There are still preparations to be made, Ethan, but once it’s done - well, let’s just say Miranda won’t see any of it coming.”

He took a long drag, exhaling a puff of ashy smoke into the ceiling, and then, as though an afterthought, extended the cigar towards Ethan with a nod.

“I don’t smoke,”- Ethan said instead, watching the other man shrug and take another long drag. He tried to disregard the sudden shiver that came over him as a winter chill, -“W-Well, what the hell are we waiting for, then!? Let’s get out of here and-“

“Hold your horses, pops. We’re not ready yet.”

“Ready? What is there to be ready for, we just-“

“Listen, Ethan,”- Heisenberg was up in his face in a flash once again, and Ethan suddenly could see himself being forced onto another chair, shoved down and made to sit in place. His legs felt pathetic and his chest clenched in anticipation – but the man didn’t make another move, simply stood there. Entirely too close.

“It’s like you don’t even listen.”

Ethan tried to pretend he didn’t feel awkwardly disappointed. Tightened the grip around his gun instead.

“I just said there was a plan. And plans require time.”

He could deal with being pushed around, with constant attacks and violence. He had no idea how to handle a sudden moment of peace, even if he did propose it himself.

Heisenberg smelled like cigar smoke.

“Time!? Time!?”- Ethan felt his hands shake, -“We don’t have any goddamn time to-“

“Do you want to throw all this out the goddamn window!? Want Miranda to do as she pleases with Rose!?”

He was now dangerously close to walking out the door.

“Okay, look. Why don’t you take some time to regroup?”- The other man finally moved away, letting him breathe in a breath he didn’t know he desperately needed, -“Take a seat, relax, put your feet up, for fuck’s sake! Make yourself at home! You deserve a little rest after everything you’ve been through, don’t you, Ethan?”

It’s not a trap, Heisenberg told him when he was on his way to this factory, and it sounded about as reassuring then as this did now. Ethan was certain that he won’t be able to relax for the rest of his actual life after this. Not after everything he’s been through. Especially not after everything.

“And where will you be going?”

“To make those final preparations,”- He was now moving backwards across the room, hands splayed out, that shit-eating smile never leaving his face, -“Check up on few things, add a few final tweaks. You know how it is.”

And right before he stepped out the back door and right after Ethan missed his chance to protest, he added, -“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Ethan. I’ll be back before you know it.”

And with that, Heisenberg disappeared into the noise filled air of his factory.

-

It has been several hours until he returned.

Actually, it could as well have been several minutes, but that thought was way less reassuring and way more pitiful.

After rummaging through every drawer possible, picking up piles of metal scrap, random packs of ammo and several herbs, pocketing one of Heisenberg’s slightly damp cigars and flipping through several pages of his diary denoting the creation of “Soldats”, Ethan resolved to plopping one of the shitty metal chairs against the closest wall and plopping himself right down on it. He was definitely feeling way too exhausted to actually sit and soak it all in, way too agitated to be here in the first place. His every nerve and sense was buzzing with the need to move, and his numerous injuries burned, burned, burned. For the first time since losing his fingers was he beginning to feel phantom pains, the loss acutely piercing through his left arm and shoulder when he tried to flex his hand, wincing at the movement that never reached his ring and pinky phalanges. His knee was bouncing and his mind kept replaying scenarios of all and everything that could go wrong going wrong, and amidst all that his gaze was fixed on a single spot of rust colored stain on the old worn out carpet all the way until Heisenberg unceremoniously burst through the backdoor, scattering a few metallic parts across the floor.

Ethan’s first impulse was to jump right out of the chair, and when his body didn’t listen, he resorted to simply snapping his head up in equal parts greeting, inquiry, annoyance and excitement.

Most dangerous of them all, Duke told him a forever ago, and those words kept replaying over and over and over in his restless brain like a broken record until he’d almost convinced himself he was actually glad to have Heisenberg on his side.

“Good. You’re still here!”- Said man stopped in his step, voice colored with surprise, -“Feeling better?”

Maybe he expected Ethan to bail by now. Maybe he simply forgot he was there.

“How’re the Soldats coming along?”- Ethan asked instead, fingers interlacing with one another, ring and pinky awkwardly hanging out without their proper place, legs simply refusing to let him stand.

Heisenberg quirked his head to one side, a small incredulous smile gracing his lips, -“How do you- Hm. I see someone’s been doing their homework.”

“You leave stuff lying around.”

He nodded for a long moment, slowly placing his hands on his hips as he kept on staring at Ethan.

And kept on staring.

And kept on staring long enough for that weird alien ache to return to Ethan’s bones, make him want to squirm in his seat if his body had any resolve whatsoever left in it.

And then he simply shook his head, looked at his feet as though he couldn’t believe any of this was happening, and turned back to walking across the room towards the tiny bedside table.

“Well, to answer your question, they’re coming along just fine. Revving and ravenous,”- He stated simply, rummaging around for something Ethan couldn’t see.

“Great,”- He swallowed down in turn, finally willing his heavy, ginormous, colossal feeling body to lean forward in the chair, getting ready to stand up powering through on fumes and the rushing adrenalin alone, -“Let’s do this.”

“Woah, slow down there, cowboy,”- Heisenberg suddenly turned to him, a precariously small bottle dangling in his hand as he spread his arms out, -“We still got several hours until-“

“Several hours!?”- Ethan’s head shot up, something way too close to the surface of his skin slowly beginning to boil.

Not a trap.

“You said you were going to make checks and tweaks!”

“Yes, and now that those are mostly done we need to wait until dawn for the ceremony to start so-“

“Have you gone completely crazy!?”- He was shouting now, realizing that he had finally managed to stand up without noticing it. That his knees were shaking, -“We don’t have that kind of time, Rose will-“

“With all due respect, Ethan, your daughter isn’t exactly going anywhere. Not in the state she’s in.”

Heisenberg grinned. Ethan heard his breath catch.

“No, you know what? Fuck this. Fuck you. I’m going alone.”

He didn’t have the time to figure out how he was going to take the next step – didn’t have to. Because in the very next second, metal scraps were levitating off of the floor and darting out to throw him backwards, knees buckling against the metal chair so he was sitting back down, his wrists now pinned painfully against the wall.

He immediately tried to dash forward, and the metal bore right down into his very bone.

“Sit. Down.”

Ethan let out a breath.

Now this? This, he understood.

He only wished he could reach his gun.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going!? Miranda is going to kill you!”

Heisenberg moved slowly towards him, his outstretched hand lowering back down, a snarl over his face which made Ethan think of full moons and howling and silver bullets to the face.

He wouldn’t be able to stop silver bullets, would he?

“I’m starting to think I might as well take my chances,”- Ethan growled back, voice hoarse and aching.

“And leave me to clean up your mess!? No, thank you, I’d rather just kill you myself.”

“Big talk for someone who’s too afraid to go up against mommy-”

Wrong thing to say, the metal cuffs on his wrists told him, their grasp suddenly growing that much tighter, extracting another hopeless grunt. Ethan tried not to think of how much force it would require to pop his hands clean off. Crush his bone into dust. Sever at his skin. He somehow had no doubt Heisenberg could do it if he wanted to.

Most dangerous of them all.

No amount of chem fluid was going to reattach his hands after that.

“You have no goddamn clue what she’s capable of, you pathetic idiot. She won’t leave a wet stain once she’s through with you – and then she’ll come for me. I am not going to let that happen, Ethan.”

“Yes, well,”- He tried again, feeling as though the metal was crushing his larynx and not his arms, -“I’ve taken out three of your kind already. What’s a couple more to boot?”

Heisenberg lurched forward then, a mean expression painted over his features as he leaned in, further, further, that snarl so visceral it was all canines and blood and meat and bone, and Ethan could pull back only so far until his head connected with the wall and Heisenberg’s face was in his neck.

He groaned involuntarily. Shut his eyes and prepared for the sting-

- And then Heisenberg took a deep, deep breath in through his nose.

“Did you just- Did you just smell me!?”- Ethan stammered out breathlessly, eyes flying open as something in his abdomen sunk and he bucked against the metal restraints once more. And here he thought he could predict where this was going.

This damn village was going to drive him completely mad.

“Death… and decay,”- The other man muttered, coarse beard hairs scratching at Ethan’s Adam’s apple, his neck craning further and further till the strain was tugging at his very veins, -“You reek of it, Ethan. You really think Miranda is going to let you walk when you smell like that?”

Ethan didn’t say a word – couldn’t even form a word in his mind, had no idea what he could possibly say, Heisenberg’s own smell of metal and gasoline and cigar smoke penetrating his every sense. His breath was everything but stable, his pulse breaking through his skin.

Was this room always this suffocating?

“Dammit, Ethan, I’m on your side here!”- Heisenberg barked, the noise resonating in Ethan’s very chest cavity, his every hair standing on end by the time he pulled away and took a step back, -“Don’t you get it!?”

He didn’t get it. Didn’t want to get it.

He swallowed down, and the air was still too hot.

“We need to wait till Miranda’s busy with the ceremony - then, we strike. She’ll never see it coming.”

He was taking his sunglasses off again, running a heavy hand over his eyes. Then he looked up, and looked at Ethan, and Ethan breathed out heavy because he was starting to hate the way the other man looked.

In this light, his irises were practically white.

“Who is going to protect Rose once you’re fucking dead?”

He said nothing. The restraints let up, and he missed the pain intensely.

He understood pain. There was nothing to negotiate when violence was involved.

And now, there was only a dull itch, and the sense that his very world was crumbling – just like when he woke up outside that overturned van, a dead body and a ringing phone for company.

“Trust me on this, Ethan.”

Then, it was lonely and frigid and cold. But now…

“We’re partners, remember?”

Every inch of his being was burning up as he slowly nodded, not trusting his dried up throat with making a sound.

“At least till Miranda’s done and dealt with,”- Heisenberg added with an almost imperceptible smile, and Ethan’s brows furrowed.

“...And after?”

“Let’s not jump too far ahead, shall we? All that matters is that I’m not going to betray you.”

He took a slow step forward, too close. Too far. Ethan hated everything in that one moment.

“You will get Rose back.”

“Fine,”- He finally relented, hating it all that much more, the word tasting acidic on his tongue. He wanted, needed the metal on his wrists to tighten. Why was it still there.

Why was it barely touching his skin.

“We wait till dawn,”- Ethan nodded once again, more to himself than anyone else, saying something just to say anything and stop inhaling the smell of cigar and rust, -“But this better work.”

“It will. It has to,”- Heisenberg nodded at him, no longer looking his way, –“I’ve waited too damn long.”

He whispered that last part. A hollow silence stretched the room thin.

Ethan was still burning, and it concentrated just below his waist.

And he missed home dearly. Everything was so monochrome back then. Their hiding, their fear, their happiness – quiet, simple, muted. The pain wasn’t painful. The smiles didn’t hurt.

It was fine. It was good. Lukewarm.

“...Rose.”

Everything felt so much now. Absolutely everything.

He was miserable.

Heisenberg looked at him from the corner of his eye, and Ethan looked up slowly.

“Rose will be sacrificed at the ceremony?”

He saw the other man sigh. Watched him pull out yet another cigar.

“In a manner of speaking. She is going to become the new vessel for Miranda’s true child.”

“True child?”- Ethan blinked at him, and thought that this was good. He could handle conversation. Probably.

“What, another Lord?”

“Please. We were never her children,”- Heisenberg placed the cigar on the table without lighting, not sparing it a second glance, -“Just a bunch of ragtag experiments that didn’t lose their minds. Well, not all of us, anyway.”

“But why...”- Ethan couldn’t help the question he’s been so successfully avoiding all night, morning, day, and evening. A question he had no idea if he truly wanted to know the answer to. Whatever was holding it back now has burned through, though, and his guts were spilling onto the floor, -“Why her? Out of everyone in the goddamn world, why did it have to be Rose!?”

The other man looked amused, smile almost gentle as his eyes developed crinkles at their edges. Ethan grit his teeth. Tried not to blink.

“You really have no clue how powerful she is, do you?”

He had no idea if he actually was expected to answer – so he kept quiet. Watched Heisenberg and that out of place look on his face. He thought it didn’t suit him. He thought about that giant hammer and wondered where it was.

“It doesn’t matter, really,”- Heisenberg finally said as he shook his head, smile dropping, -“I suspect a lot of it has to do with you, anyway.”

And Ethan held his breath.

“...Me?”

“Who else? You are very special indeed, Ethan,”- He began to walk closer yet again. Ethan could swear the corners of his vision blurred. The scrape of metal against his wrists became that much more noticeable, like a couple of snakes slowly coiling their way around him.

He swallowed hard as that pair of impossibly gray eyes scanned him up and down. Slowly. Shamelessly.

“Your body is... Well, it’s something. Personally, I’m quite... interested in it.”

Filthily.

Ethan felt filthy.

And Heisenberg definitely took pleasure from standing over him like this.

His stomach turned in knots and his jaw clenched painfully as he tried his best and failed to prevent the words from spilling out of his lips.

“Are you... hitting on me?”

Fuck.

He asked and cursed internally immediately after, feeling that much dirtier.

Filthy, filthy, filthy.

It didn’t matter that the thought first entered his head back when he heard the other man enunciate his name, it didn’t matter that it continued to haunt him and evolve from ridiculous to creepy to anxiety-inducing all in the span of a couple of hours. And it definitely did not matter that Heisenberg was now staring at him like a piece of meat moments away from being torn apart, a small incredulous smirk blooming into a full sized grin – it did not matter that he felt his damned pulse betray him once again as it began to jump around his body.

Didn’t matter.

He should have stayed quiet.

By the look on Heisenberg’s face, he should have stayed quiet.

“Oh! Oh, that is rich!”

He wished it didn’t burn.

Loud laughter filled the impossibly hot air of the tiny room, Heisenberg’s eyes blown wide open in that very same expression that told Ethan You never fail to surprise me, -“Where does it all come from!?”

He laughed. And he shook his head. And he laughed some more.

And then Ethan shifted in his chair, and suddenly he was no longer laughing – rather, he was walking closer, those metal cuffs piercing and cutting through Ethan’s skin without so much as a warning, and Ethan’s heart was in his throat and his curse was out his chest.

“Fuck-!”

“Then again... You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck,”- Was all Ethan could manage, wondering if he would even be able to move his wrists afterwards. His hands have been through worse than this – he could manage. He could…

“Only if you ask nicely.”

He threw his head back against the wall again, banging it with a loud thud, incapable of nothing more when Heisenberg crouched down in front of him and began to slowly rack his gloved hands up his thighs.

Whatever Ethan was breathing with just then, it certainly weren’t his lungs – his entire chest was on fire and he meekly tugged at the restraints. It stung.

This – this, he had no clue how he could handle.

Heisenberg laughed again, but it was almost aggressive. A bark of a sound, a single ‘Ha!’, low and reverberating in Ethan’s lower abdomen despite the overpowering need to vomit.

“Really, Ethan, your wife’s body is still warm to the touch and you’re already spreading your legs for another man-“

“Don’t talk about her like that,”- Ethan remembered himself for a moment, a brief goddamn moment that felt akin to a breath in freezing winter air after spending an eternity in a furnace. He tried to kick, and his legs did not listen, -“And don’t fucking touch me.”

Heisenberg’s hands did pause – if only for a second. And then he looked up, and his grin was all sharp teeth and promise to use them.

“No one can blame you for being exhausted, papa,”- He continued to growl, the now soft, barely-there hands tracing the fine seaming of Ethan’s denim jeans, - “All that running around, the pain and the adrenalin... And the worst is yet to come!”

He dug his fingers into Ethan’s legs at that, and Ethan gasped out as his insides twitched.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to let go? Just for a minute?”

“I said-“- He began, voice sharp, and swallowed his own damn tongue when his eyes met Heisenberg’s.

He was no longer smiling.

Ethan wanted to melt into the wall. Dammit, he should have stayed quiet.

“Look, Ethan, I think we have a misunderstanding here,”- Heisenberg began, thumbs slowly, slowly, so painfully slowly rubbing up, the leather and the denim heating up in between sweaty skin.

“Damn right we do,“- Ethan muttered, and tried not to push into the touch.

“You see, this is hardly any more dignified for me than it is for you,”- The other man continued, fingers circling, impossibly light, as though trying to pretend they weren’t there in the first place. Ethan knew they were. He felt them just fine, -“But I’ve been working, too. And personally, I think I’d like to let go. Waste some time, so to speak.”

And at this, Heisenberg tilted his head, and grinned.

“We got time to waste.”

He kept on looking at Ethan, as though waiting for a sign. As though Ethan could ever possibly agree to-

As though Ethan could even entertain the idea of-

“How about this then,”- He suddenly said with a heavy breath when whatever expression Ethan’s face was contorted into didn’t seem to satisfy, -“You… don’t have to say anything.”

His voice dropped to a whisper at the same time as his eyes dropped down to stare at Ethan’s crotch. Ethan’s hips reared back into the chair. His heart was in his throat.

“Just don’t stop me, Ethan. And then we can both... Pretend.”

Heisenberg didn’t say anything else, barely made another sound or move. Just licked at his lips, slowly.

And Ethan- Well, Ethan just sat there, constrained to the wall, legs shaking, hands shaking, this- this man that he was fully intent on killing just a couple of hours ago in between his thighs, and his cock fucking throbbing. It was the most miserable he’s felt in goddamn years.

He was burning.

He never wanted to not be burning.

Heisenberg didn’t look like he was breathing.

Without making a sound, Ethan turned his head to the side and held his own breath. Grit his teeth. He felt those damn hands methodically, achingly move up his thighs, pet up his lap and slide alongside his jeans’ pockets over to his belt. He could swear he was experiencing vertigo.

“Okay. Okay,”- Heisenberg kept on whispering, and he couldn’t see his face but he could swear that that shit-eating grin was plastered all over it, and suddenly, the hands were gone, and Ethan didn’t dare look, -“Good. Perfect. Close your eyes.”

He did as he was told without a thought. Was simply glad the other didn’t gloat.

He didn’t dare think. In fact, thinking was the last thing he wanted to do, ever, because then he would realize that he’s made a decision here, and god, what did that say about him-

“Shit...”- He muttered when the hands returned, now noticeably glove free, and burning even hotter than Ethan himself, something about Heisenberg’s skin scorching like a goddamn oven. His eyes flew open involuntarily when he felt, heard his belt being opened, his body already shifting in its seat for easier access. He didn’t dare turn his head.

He really wanted to turn his head.

He exhaled a slow breath, and he didn’t think.

Heisenberg’s fingers were at his zipper now, the sound of it sliding down like the crack of thunder to his ear in the quiet room. Ethan was struggling not to pant, swallowing hard when his tongue kept drying up from all the hot air. The silence was killing him. The sound of his breathing was making him sick.

When did this room become so stuffy. He needed air. He desperately needed-

“Fuck!”- Ethan screamed desperately bucking forward when Heisenberg’s face was suddenly stuffed into his crotch, nose and mouth pressed to his still-covered cock as he took another deep, filthy inhale.

When did this happen. How did this-

“Fuck is right, Ethan,”- He muttered, lips moving against the shaft with every word, hot breath making Ethan’s hips twitch and his legs fall apart wider, -“You smell like... Fuck.”

Ethan couldn’t breathe. He could not goddamn breathe and he didn’t want to breathe.

He tried pulling at the restraints again, and they still did not let up. An electric chill ran down his spine and he began to grind his hips against Heisenberg’s face, desperate for literally any kind of friction, even if the beard did itch.

“Fuck,”- He muttered breathlessly again when the other pulled away, finally looking at Heisenberg for the first time since he somehow agreed to this happening, saw that exact grin that he was expecting, and suddenly, those canines did not look so much terrifying as inviting.

Suddenly, he felt like he could negotiate this too.

“Your mouth-“

Ethan swallowed again, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down painfully as whatever he wanted to say died down just as suddenly as it came up. He saw Heisenberg blink at him in dry amusement, watched him slowly stand up and take off his stained-through trench.

“Don’t talk, alright? Make this easier for both of us.”

Ethan obeyed gladly, instead opting to look over the curve of muscle underneath the yellow shirt, the peak of collarbone where the buttons weren’t closed. Everything about Heisenberg was distinctly man and that, too, drove him absolutely wild. He’s never done this before. Never thought he’d want to. Never had any reason to.

Then the other lurched forward towards his face, and Ethan’s head connected with the concrete wall one more painful time.

Heisenberg stopped just shy of his lips, still grinning as a deep, cigar stained laugh escaped his chest.

“Ethan, please. Did you really think I’d stoop so low as to defile you with a kiss?”

Then again, he never met any other man quite like Karl Heisenberg.

His words were one thing, but they were also burning against Ethan’s mouth and they were hungrily gulping each other’s breaths in the tiny space between them. And then, just as fast and unassuming as everything he did, Heisenberg stuffed his nose into Ethan’s neck again and took another desperate huff.

“Could smell you all day when you’re like this,”- Ethan heard him mutter, low enough to be a vibration, quiet enough that Ethan thought it wasn’t meant to be heard at all, and it was almost concerning how flattering he found those words to be all things considered. The heat went straight to his cheeks. He was goddamn blushing.

Heisenberg placed a steady hand on his cheek, angled his face away as he swiftly licked at his neck, and then just as quickly bit down with his horribly sharp teeth.

“Shit!”- Ethan yelled, his voice a shameful moan that he couldn’t prevent even if he wanted to, and his hips were once again seeking friction in the shitty metal chair that he was beginning to hate. It scraped against the floor painfully.

The bite wasn’t anything Ethan expected, and it was everything he wanted. He threw his wrists against the restraints again, panting hard as Heisenberg sucked at his pulse, never feeling so exposed in his life. The other man’s hand slid down to palm his cock, and Ethan felt his eyes roll backwards in his head.

The words were spilling out of his mouth before he could even catch himself, his voice low and distant and not his own when he heard himself begging, -“Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

He could only remain quiet for so long, it seemed.

Heisenberg paused in leaving hard bites at his neck, raised his head to look at him once again in raw wonder.

Interesting, he called Ethan, and in hindsight, that statement could have meant absolutely anything. Facts about European bird migration patterns were interesting. Didn’t mean Ethan was going to fuck a crow any time soon.

“Please,”- He asked. Nicely.

And just this once – just this goddamn once he was glad that interesting really did mean what he thought it meant, because Ethan was so hard it hurt to move, and Heisenberg looked like he could very easily move Ethan himself.

And so he did exactly that.

As if in slow motion, he saw the other man pull back and take a few certain steps back, eyes never leaving Ethan’s, a hand flying out in front as Ethan simultaneously found himself being lifted off into the air, the pull on his wrists unreal, his arms feeling like they were going to pop right out of their shoulder sockets any second now. The world went black for a second as he was being turned around in mid-air, the room and all its contents tumbling in his vision as he was sent flying back across the entirety of it, finally landing with his back thrown against the weirdly hard bedding.

His breath was knocked out of him.

His entire body melted regardless.

And his wrists were still pinned up over his head with the metal scraps, arms beginning to feel sore.

He was lying on this shitty, dusty bed in this shitty, dusty room, completely helpless and hopeless after what was definitely the absolute worst day of his life, body and mind burning through with pain, this person who was more animal than man, who came excruciatingly close to ending Ethan’s very life, who could still end it with a single sweep of his hand looking at him like he was going to consume him.

And as Heisenberg quietly began to make his way over there, taking the time to unstrap his belts and tug off the random pieces of scrap he had hanging around his neck, Ethan wondered why in the fucking hell was he finding all of this so agonizingly arousing.

He heard the other man throw the belts down to the floor, buckles hitting the shaggy carpet with a dull clink, shirt undone to mid-waist by the time he reached the bed; watched as he climbed onto it one knee at a time, throwing them over Ethan’s body and lowering his full weight on top of his thighs.

Ethan squirmed underneath it, and refused to think any more.

“I figured you were impatient, but really, Ethan…”- Heisenberg leaned down slowly, hovered over his lips for the briefest of seconds before going for the neck again, and Ethan practically whined, -“You need to learn how to let go.”

He felt a scrape of teeth right in the middle of his throat, Heisenberg making his way down as he licked with his tongue, reaching the hollow spot between the collarbones and just- sucking right at the skin there. Ethan’s entire body arched up, and the other man’s hands were on his hip and shoulder, holding him down easily, pressing him into the bed like he didn’t weigh a thing.

“Yeah, well- Some might say I got issues,”- He rasped out finally finding his voice, pushing against the hold that he was certain was going to leave blisters on his skin. He felt the following chuckle rumble through Heisenberg’s chest into his own and shuddered.

“Then I’ll just have to fuck you so hard you’ll forget all about those, hm?”

His whole body was shuddering. His head was swimming.

Ethan was used to being manhandled – it was basically his second nature at this point, what with everything that happened in Louisiana and in the past day. But he was no goddamn pushover – he was used to fighting back.

So he pulled at the restraints again, desperate, knowing full well they wouldn’t budge a bit, and he bucked his body against the hand that was as solid as metal itself, that was now travelling underneath his shirt, slowly, painstakingly, and he craned his neck back far enough that he was now staring at the rust colored wall.

And when none of that worked, and when Heisenberg simply continued to nip at his collarbone, his burning fingers slowly raking up Ethan’s stomach, up to his nipple where he began to rub with his thumb, Ethan swallowed down the remainders of his pride that he didn’t think he’d still have anywhere on him, and did what he hated most.

He asked for help.

“Heisenberg,”- He whispered, voice hoarse and dry as his wrists kept wriggling in the cuffs, still trying knowing full well there was no point. He could negotiate this one, too.

“Ethan, please,”- The other man murmured against his stomach, where he was now pressing a particularly wet and toothy bite. Ethan let out a hiss, -“I think we might as well be on a first name basis, all things considered. At least, while your cock is still hard.”

And he punctuated his claim by pressing an almost gentle kiss down next to Ethan’s navel as he ran his fingertips alongside his bulge, making Ethan’s guts knot together.

Swallowing down the suffocating grip on his throat, Ethan tried again.

“Karl.”

His bones were at their breaking point with how hard he was pulling.

“I also wouldn’t object to ‘sir’, or maybe ‘daddy’, but use those at your own discretion,”- The other muttered from somewhere close to Ethan’s ribs, his smile stretched out against sore skin.

“Karl,”- Ethan simply said, and then, when Heisenberg didn’t so much as budge, he huffed out an angry breath, his tone guttural, -“Karl, goddammit, look at me.”

He did.

Heisenberg raised his eyes, blinking slowly from underneath his hat. From this angle, they somehow looked a soft brown. Almost like a puppy’s.

He raised an eyebrow.

Ethan swallowed.

“I want you to free my arms,”- He stated matter of fact, and watched as the other man grew tense, shoulders visibly stiffening up underneath the rumpled shirt.

There was a gut-wrenching moment of absolute silence, with nothing but the distant sounds of machine whirring and their heavy, messed up breathing to fill in the gaps. Ethan squared his jaw, and tried not to lick his dried out lips.

And then, Heisenberg moved his hand, and the restraints were gone, violently scratching Ethan’s hands as they flew into the wall across and got lodged in the concrete, cracks webbing their way around the holes.

“What, the daddy thing was too far for you?”

Ethan suddenly felt drunk with the regained freedom, immediately rubbing at his burning, itching, pulsing wrists, each bearing red rings of angry inflamed skin.

“Hm. You’re no fun,”- Heisenberg said then, voice a breathless whisper and expression dark as he began to throw his knees off of Ethan. And before he could move another inch, Ethan’s hands were on his shoulders, his face, his neck, roughly pulling him back in, lips pressing hard against Heisenberg’s and he didn’t hesitate for even a second before darting out a tongue and inserting it into the other man’s mouth. The beard was coarse and itchy against Ethan’s skin, their teeth clicking together from the sheer force, and his hands immediately got lost in the long frustratingly soft hair, finally knocking back that stupid hat that he’s hated since the moment he laid eyes on it. He thought Heisenberg made a noise and proceeded to ignore it, moved instead to take his own jacket off tongue still in the other’s cheek, threw it across the room without ever opening his eyes, and in a second his hands were back on Heisenberg’s face. He held it with enough force to bruise, was hoping to leave a bruise, his fingernails digging in and leaving angry red marks against his cheeks, adding more scars to his collection, his teeth meanwhile catching on the one that decorated Heisenberg’s lips. He licked at it temperamentally, liked the shape it formed against his tongue, and felt the other man press an unsteady hand against his chest, pushing him back. Ethan allowed it to, but not before catching his bottom lip between his teeth and pulling back - and only then did he finally let go and take the deepest goddamn breath he’d taken yet.

Well. He, for one, had no idea he was going to do that. That was the drawback of not thinking.

Things happened.

Heisenberg was panting loudly, mouth hanging open, something canine in his expression as he simply stared, eyes wide in shock and wonder and a nasty trail of saliva smeared against his crimson lips. Ethan’s fingers detangled from the messy hair and got wrapped inside his collar instead, pulling him down on top.

That was the benefit of not thinking too, actually. Things happened.

“Well, well, well. Ethan Winters,”- Heisenberg practically purred, stretching out that final ‘S’ against Ethan’s lips, -“Playing dirty, are we?”

“Wouldn’t have to if you weren’t taking your damn time,”- Ethan bit back, drinking in Heisenberg’s laughter with his throat as his own fingers kept travelling further down, finding those remaining buttons of his shirt and working to undo them.

If they were doing this, they were doing this. He didn’t give a damn anymore. Not after tonight.

“So impatient,”- The other man muttered before leaning back into the kiss, his full body weight pressing Ethan down into the bed as he lapped at Ethan’s mouth, tongue practically in his throat, and Ethan moaned desperate, dirty, loud. He did not give a damn.

His hips ground upwards, finally finding friction against Heisenberg’s solid leg, and Ethan dry humped his thigh while Heisenberg’s cigar tasting tongue did horribly filthy things to his mouth. Ethan’s hands grew their own consciousness, suddenly travelling to his dick completely of their own volition, grabbing at the sweaty, hot skin inside his boxers and pulling it out to feel the coarse texture of Heisenberg’s pants. Heisenberg, in turn, finally moved his hands away from Ethan’s face, and was now actively trying to pull off his jeans and sweaty boxers. Ethan didn’t even hesitate before lifting his hips up, found himself gasping and whining when Heisenberg pulled away, his leg and that desperately needed friction now replaced with the frustrating air of the room that was somehow both too hot and too cold.

Ethan more felt than saw the other man begin to untie his boots, throwing an arm over his eyes as his other hand kept working his dick, a slow but steady rhythm, his entire willpower in that one movement that was so much but not nearly enough. He was nearing his edge, and he needed to calm down. He wouldn’t come yet. He couldn’t.

Because then it’d be over. Because then he’d have to face-

“Look at me,”- Heisenberg’s rough hand was suddenly at his jaw, forcing Ethan’s head from underneath his arm, -“Ethan. I want you to watch me. Want you to see me make you cum.”

Ethan near damn choked on his own saliva, eyes practically glued to the other as he pulled off his shirt and threw it somewhere behind, somewhere into the other pile of their dirty messed up clothes – and everything about his body practically smelled of man. The curve of the muscle, the edge of the collarbone, the musk – Ethan was driven crazy by how unfamiliar everything was. Terrifying.

Hot as fuck.

His hands finally left his dick to touch at Heisenberg’s chest hair, thick and curling and strange and so unlike anything of his own. His fingers got lost in it as the other man leaned in once again, an absolutely feral smile painted over his lips as he muttered into Ethan’s neck, -“What? Like what you see?”

“Don’t get cocky,”- Ethan spat back, pinching at a nipple and receiving a way more enthusiastic response than he’d anticipated.

“Mm. Say cocky again.”

He felt Heisenberg’s bulge at his thigh then, grinding once, twice, all the while his lips kept sucking at a single spot at the base of his neck, and he momentarily wondered if he was being fucked or eaten here. Feeling curiosity get the damn better of him yet again, he bit down his lip hard, before allowing himself to mutter quietly, -“Think I’d much rather just take your cock.”

Heisenberg bit down. Hard.

Ethan moaned loudly and didn’t hate how the pain spread throughout the arm like a jolt of lightning. Lycan teeth sinking into his flesh momentarily flashed behind his closed eyes, and he wasn’t sure he could ever sustain another bite ever again without his dick immediately taking interest.

His hands were pulling at Heisenberg’s hair, wanting him to move, needing him to move, to feel those hands, those teeth, that dick. And when the other man finally unclenched his jaws and let go, Ethan immediately crashed their mouths together with no regard for how messy it felt to taste his own blood on the other’s tongue.

“Yeah? You’re gonna take my cock, Ethan?”- Heisenberg panted into his mouth, pulling him up, -“Just wait. Gonna fuck you long and hard. Gonna make you fucking scream.”

Before he knew it, he had somehow climbed into Heisenberg’s lap, was now grinding against his stomach, against his happy trail, his gut, fingers clutching at the beard and tongue lost inside a mouth that was all cigar and wet, and he felt like a damn bitch in heat trying to get off on his own here, more desperate than ever to be fucked. And Heisenberg, damn that fucking monster of a man, pressed his giant calloused hands into Ethan’s hips, fingernails digging into his ass, and in a single move lifted him up into the air and dropped him back down on the hard, spring loaded bed.

Ethan felt the wind get knocked out of him, exhaled hard into the musty air.

“I said wait,”- The other man commanded looking down on him, lips purple and wet and stomach stained with precome, and Ethan felt a full-body shudder run through him like a fucking electric current.

“Do we have to teach you how to behave, Ethan,”- Heisenberg asked, more a statement than a question. He slowly got off the bed, a hand carefully slipping down the waist of his pants, and Ethan felt his mouth run dry.

“Don’t fucking move until I get back.”

He watched with baited breath as that hand snaked underneath the slacks, strokes slow and methodical, his eyes glued to the movement. It certainly helped that Heisenberg was walking through the room backwards, his own gaze just as fixated on watching Ethan’s every twitch.

“That’s right. Just watch. See how fucking hard I am for you, Ethan.”

And Ethan didn’t dare twitch.

His fingers were tangled in the rough yellowed bed sheets and his jaw hurt. But he didn’t move. Didn’t know if he could at this point, really.

Heisenberg only turned his back when he reached the table, picked up something off it and then turned to make his way back, all while jacking himself off shamelessly, breathily. Ethan could see the tip of his dick now and his throat closed up.

When Heisenberg sat back down on the bed, knees spread wide open in between Ethan’s legs, he watched him open a familiar looking bottle and squeeze it into his hand.

“That’s the one from before,”- Ethan noted astutely, eyes frantically travelling between Heisenberg’s own and his hand that was now dipping below the waist of his pants again. He was begging to seriously hate that one single article of clothing.

“Lubricant, Ethan,”- Heisenberg replied just as wisely, licking his lips when his voice sounded a tad too dry, -“Had a feeling we might need it.”

He had a smile on his face. Ethan’s eyes only grew larger.

“Not when- I mean, now. Not when I first-“- The other man suddenly scrambled for an explanation, and Ethan couldn’t help sitting up on his elbows to quirk an eyebrow at him, -“What I mean to say is- I didn’t intend to fuck you the moment I came into this room.”

“You didn’t,”- And despite the absolutely god awful- well, everything that has been going on since he opened his eyes the night before, Ethan found himself actually beginning to smile.

“No, it- One of the Soldats downstairs was sounding rusty.“

“So you were going to use..?”

“Lube is lube, Ethan!”- Heisenberg cracked down, both his hands flying up in the air, and fuck, Ethan couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his throat. He was having fun. He hated that he was having fun, -“I’m running out of oil, alright!? Not exactly a wide variety of suppliers around these parts. Do you even have any idea how much-!”

Ethan didn’t have any idea, and he didn’t care to find out. Instead, he reached to shut the other man up with a kiss that felt disgustingly and alarmingly tender even to himself, and at the same time he reached for the lube that was now staining the bed sheets even further.

“Well, if you didn’t intend to fuck me the moment you came into this room-“- It was Ethan’s turn to graze at the other’s neck, lips and teeth running over heated skin all the way down to the shoulder, tongue darting out to lick at the curve of muscle and tasting salt and bitterness, -“-When did you intend to fuck me?”

It’s not as though he was trying to sound salacious – he was actively curious. Besides, talking gave him the courage to finally slip a lubed up hand down Heisenberg’s disgusting trousers and curve his fingers around a thick, pulsating dick. He ran his thumb down a throbbing vein at the same time as his tongue pressed against the beat of a pulse on the other’s throat, and he felt more than heard the growl that that evoked. He gave the dick a few strokes as he continued to lick, suck, bite, patiently waiting for the answer, his own cock slowly grinding back into Heisenberg’s stomach. He felt it raise and fall with every hitched breath, every stutter and sigh, and he felt powerful. In control.

He felt good.

Until, of course, Heisenberg’s hands came to tug him by the hair, raise his face up to be kissed as he was being pushed onto his back once more, hand still desperately trying to find the right rhythm at which to jack off another guy. Touching a dick that was not his own was novel. The smell in the room was novel.

Despite everything, he still felt damn good.

And then Heisenberg pulled back entirely, taking a moment to look Ethan down with a smile so small it made his insides twist, and then just as suddenly his hands were behind Ethan’s knees, lifting them up as he began to manually turn him over like a life-sized doll.

“Hey, what are you-“

“Well,”- Heisenberg interrupted him, voice something else entirely now as his slick hands ran up and down Ethan’s bare legs, nails lightly scratching where they caught on scars, -“I first thought about fucking you when I saw your dainty little face.”

Another twist, and Ethan was on his stomach now, unsure of how he ended up in this position and feeling weirdly exposed, all things considered. He furrowed his eyebrows at the statement still, trying to recall what he could about their first meeting.

“I first wanted to fuck you-“- A tug at his hips, and Ethan was now basically ass up in the air, feeling like he should probably say something about this and finding that his throat very much refused to work, -“-When you survived my game, and I realized you were very much unlike all the other meat that went through the grinder.”

He could barely breathe now, nose stuffed into the dust smelling pillow and eyes staring wildly into the darkness, terrified of what was going to come next. His dick gave a desperate twitch, neglected, aching. His fingers clutched at the bed sheets.

“And I first knew I was going to fuck you-“- Heisenberg slapped at one of his thighs, then the other, moving them further apart, and Ethan frantically tried not to think about what this looked like, what he was doing, what was going to happen, because-

“-When you first spread those gorgeous legs of yours for me, Ethan.”

Ethan swallowed hard as he felt a wet and slick finger push its way inside him, stomach tied in knots and nausea clouding his barely functioning mind as he didn’t want to remember when exactly was it that he first spread his legs for this man.

He groaned painfully when it was fully in, Heisenberg, for once, not bothering to take his time. Ethan brought up his own arm to bite down on it painfully, the thought that he really was spreading his legs for Heisenberg not leaving his damn head for a second.

Spreading his legs while his wife was-

But that, too, was interrupted when Heisenberg pulled out roughly and replaced the single finger with two, the awkward discomfort now turning into a proper burn inside and out. Ethan’s teeth sank into his flesh deeper, back arching out, and he whined.

“C’mon, don’t be shy now,”- Heisenberg all but mocked him, and for a second Ethan wondered how offended would he be if he were to shoot him just then. Not like it would kill him.

That’d be too easy.

“I want to hear you scream, Ethan.”

And when he added a third finger, definitely way too goddamn early, punctuated with a quick and filthy bite to Ethan’s ass, Ethan obliged readily.

“Fuck you,”- Ethan only just managed, voice coming out barely audible through his strained neck, bucking his hips further as he wondered at what point was this going to feel actually good.

Heisenberg only laughed in return – but maybe that point was coming sooner than Ethan anticipated, because he began to move his fingers then, his other hand finding its way to Ethan’s leaking cock, and fuck, this was everything.

“Pretty sure it’s the other way around, precious.”

Ethan didn’t hesitate to moan at that, too, dignity long forgotten.

“That’s right. Spread those legs for me, Ethan,”- Heisenberg laughed, pressing another wet bite somewhere between his ass and thigh, -“Gonna fuck you till you can’t breathe.”

There was definitely no dignity to speak of in the position he was in, and it was beginning to feel way too damn good to even bother. In fact, it was beginning to feel like not enough.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck, c’mon, fuck me-”- He whined loudly, breathily, the end of each phrase cut off with the thrust of fingers, hanging his head low as his hips were now fucking right into Heisenberg’s hand.

“Yeah- Yeah, that’s better,”- Heisenberg muttered, sounding not quite there himself, and Ethan desperately wanted to see his face. Taste his mouth. Touch his skin.

He bit down on his lip and thought he could taste blood.

“You’re so good, Ethan. So fucking good.”

He was emptied out almost painfully, his insides and outsides pulsating wildly, and his dick ached, but fuck, no way in hell was he coming without having Heisenberg inside him. And just as he turned around to see what the fuck was taking him so long, his eyes landed on Heisenberg’s. His pants were finally, finally off, his cock was out, and he was shamelessly jacking himself once again, lube shining on his fist as he stared at Ethan, mouth hanging open.

“Thought you were going to fuck me long and hard,”- Ethan heard himself saying, breath slowly getting there, anticipation making his knees tremble. He didn’t recognize himself. Had no idea what was happening to him. Only knew he needed to get off, and fuck, he needed it now, -“Are you going to make me cum or what?”

Heisenberg only laughed again.

“Are you always this demanding?”

And Ethan couldn’t help his own smile.

“What can I say. I’m special.”

“That you are, Ethan. That you are.”

Ethan turned back at that, unable to sustain eye contact any longer, thought about biting the pillow and decided against it. Something inside of him was getting ready to burst and he wasn’t sure it was just the arousal speaking, and he couldn’t handle any of that right now. He just wanted to get fucked.

He needed to get fucked.

And so when he felt Heisenberg finally grab him by the hips, he groaned in anticipation.

“Ready?”- He heard a voice ask him, and before he could even so much as think about replying, there was a definite pressure against his ass, and it was almost insulting how fantastic the burn felt inside his guts.

Heisenberg didn’t say anything else, only moaned high and needy, and as he felt him draw back his hips again, Ethan felt himself being tugged back by his shirt, back arching. There was a sudden smell of cigar and gasoline and rust and a hot tongue running up the back of his neck. Ethan cried out, stretching his arms out in front of him and feeling one of Heisenberg’s hands come up and grip at his wrists, pinning him in place yet again, sore skin pulsating wildly against the iron hold.

“Fuck- Never been fucked like this,”- He gasped into the sweat-stained bed sheets, tongue running on its own, lips trembling, -“Feels good. So fucking good.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you- You feel fucking amazing, Ethan,”- Heisenberg breathed into his ear, moaned as he went in deeper, and deeper yet, and that was the moment where Ethan definitely felt him hit something inside his guts, and his knees all but gave out from underneath him.

“I could fuck you all night.”

Then do it, he thought, realizing that he would gladly let him if only Heisenberg would keep hitting that fucking spot, because fuck.

“Fuck- Harder, harder- Please.”

Ethan bucked his hips once, twice, falling into rhythm, realizing that before he even knew it he was fucking as much down into the mattress as he was up into the other’s dick, overstimulation hitting him like a pile of bricks and suddenly he was so much closer than he wanted to be. Heisenberg’s hair tickled his cheeks, and when he turned his face, he received a sloppy, lopsided kiss that was every bit as messy as the rest of this experience. Ethan drooled on the pillow as he turned back, bit into it after all as he felt himself nearing the edge, and as though sensing his thoughts, Heisenberg’s hand moved from his hip to his cock to give it the much needed friction.

“You look fantastic like this, Ethan,”- He heard a breathy voice in his ear, felt his eyes roll back in his head as he gasped and groaned, -“I’m going to make you feel so good. So good.”

“I’m-“- He wanted to say and couldn’t, and Heisenberg picked up his pace without question.

“Cum for me, Ethan,”- He gasped against his earlobe, nipping at it in between, something frantic about his movements, -“I want to watch you cum. I want you- I want you-“

Ethan couldn’t hear the rest, didn’t know if there even was a rest. He was coming as though on fucking command, his body in spasms, eyes rolling back in their orbits. He couldn’t move, could barely breathe, and Heisenberg was still fucking into him, still pumping his dick through the orgasm, and fuck, this was the hardest Ethan’s come in all his goddamn life.

He could swear his vision went blank for a good moment there – but that could also have been because he stuffed his face into the pillow. And he only realized that this was the case when his body loudly demanded oxygen – and Ethan wriggled out of the grasp on his wrists to rise up on his elbows and take a deep breath.

Heisenberg slowed his movements, the roll of his hips almost in sync with Ethan’s heartbeat. His vision settled.

It was disgusting.

He felt disgusting.

Spent and tired and wasted and already so full of acidic regret it was beginning to eat him alive.

“You’re so fucking hot when you cum,”- Heisenberg whispered into his ear, breathless. Ethan inhaled sharply.

And so he grit his teeth and swallowed down the repulsive sticky feeling, shifting slowly, certainly. He heard Heisenberg groan, and he knew wanted to see. For how perfectly filthy he was feeling then, he still wanted to fucking see.

“Pull out,”- He demanded when turning around didn’t quite work and he felt the other man still, -“Karl. Come on now, trust me. I won’t leave you hanging.”

He surprised even himself with how earnest he was being there. And then, for emphasis and own personal amusement, he added, -“We’re partners, right?”

Because who didn’t love some good irony.

He had no idea what Heisenberg was thinking, of course, couldn’t claim to - but he wanted to believe that something like this would work. That he knew him well enough by now for this to work.

And it did.

With much hesitation and huffing, Heisenberg did pull out, leaving Ethan throbbing and empty and weirdly cold. And Ethan grit his teeth as he forced his shaky body to work again, at least enough to turn around. Enough to push the panting, confused, and perfectly compliant Heisenberg onto his back and climb on top.

“Let me take care of you now.”

Ethan tried not to think that he looked good lying like that, his sweaty hair spread out on the bed sheets, his eyes somehow both the color of orange rust and clear crystals at the same time, blown out, unfocused yet watching his every move. He really did try not to think about how enjoyable it was to kiss that mouth with that scar, to explore every other scar littering that frustratingly handsome face with his tongue, to hear the soft moans and know he was causing them – but dammit, without arousal clouding his every move, it was too damn difficult. And so he kissed that mouth again and again and again, licked at that scar, at every other scar, if only because he could.

For now, he could.

But then Heisenberg’s hands were moving back to his cock, and Ethan couldn’t have that. He was a man of his word if nothing else, dammit. And now, it was time for payback.

“You going to jerk off while I’m right here? Really?”

It was his turn to grab the other man’s wrists, force them above his head with minimal resistance (and he suspected resistance would be completely fatal in this case anyway), and slowly wrap his own fingers around the swollen cock, drop the remainder of lube on it and spread it through slowly. Heisenberg shuddered, releasing a soundless chuckle as he looked up at the ceiling, visibly trying to relax into the touch.

“You’re going to choose now to learn to take it slow, huh?”- He rasped, breath slowly picking back up again with every stroke Ethan gave him, and Ethan drank it all in like he was watching the most fascinating performance of his life.

“I’m a hands-on learner,”- He quipped back easily, swirling the head with his thumb and forefinger just because he could, and watched Heisenberg quiver.

“Going to fucking kill me,”- Ethan heard him mutter, and he really couldn’t suppress his smile then, licking his dry lips and mentally preparing himself for what he was planning on doing next. He reached down and finally pulled off his disgusting shirt, exposing his chest to the hot air and the sound of Heisenberg groaning in approval.

“Told you I could take you on.”

“Ethan, I swear to-“

Ethan didn’t know who Heisenberg was going to swear to, because at that point he finally managed to swallow down the rest of his disgust, anxiety, and apprehension, and use gravity to lower himself back down on Heisenberg’s dick once more. And sure, it was loads more uncomfortable, painful, the second time around, but fuck if the look on the other’s face wasn’t worth it – Heisenberg swore loudly, throwing his head back as he moaned and his hands immediately shot up to dig into Ethan’s hips and hold him as though his life depended on it.

“You’re goddamn insane,”- He half-whispered, half-laughed out, expressions twitching between incredulity, arousal, and just a simple fucking smile, and it was that last part that allowed Ethan to try and buck his hips forward. Just as an experiment. Just to see what would happen.

“Nah, just special.”

And what happened was that Heisenberg growled, stomach curling in, and Ethan moved again, and again, and again, until he was riding the other’s hips, until he felt himself suddenly get half-hard again and wondered if this was a normal thing to happen right after he’d already come, and before long Heisenberg was moving his hips too and his fingers were leaving bruises on Ethan’s pale skin.

“Fucking hell, Ethan, you feel so fucking hot,”- He breathed out, nails digging in to leave soft scratches against Ethan’s ass, -“So fucking- I knew you were gonna be a good fuck, but- Fuck.”

Ethan spread his legs wider, balls against a sweat-soaked stomach, hands spread out atop the twitching chest, fingers twirling the nipples, and he watched, watched, watched as Heisenberg fell apart.

“Gonna make you cum so hard,”- He whispered seeing him bite down on his lip so hard it bled.

Most dangerous of them all, echoed in his head once again and he barked out a single laugh as he leaned in and captured his mouth in a horrible kiss that was barely reciprocated – Heisenberg was close, and his eyes were screwed shut, and he was gasping and panting and whining and Ethan wanted to consume it all until that was the only thing left between the two of them. He pried away a reluctant hand from his hip and took a couple slick fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking and pressing his tongue into the webbing in between.

“Want you to suck me like this,”- His teeth grazed against the scars there, and he groaned when he felt a trickle of saliva run down his chin, -“Want your lips around my cock. Like this. Just like this.”

With a desperate moan, Heisenberg was coming, and Ethan’s already sticky feeling grew impossibly larger as he felt himself fill up, and if he wasn’t already working his dick to come a second time, this just might have sent him over the edge and turned this whole situation unbearable. As it stood, though, he was simply sitting there, taking it all in, desperately panting and moaning himself as he fucked his hand, twirled his tongue around the press of Heisenberg’s fingers, and tried to get it over with quickly.

And Heisenberg watched him through it all, eyes half-lidded, his mouth a thin, plump line, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He slowly moved to sit up on his elbows, his soft dick still moving inside Ethan, still doing things to him.

With a messy pop he pulled his fingers out of Ethan’s mouth, used that hand to bend him in half, giving him yet another messy kiss.

Only this time, it was slow.

It was slow, and it felt different, and Ethan’s dick was twitching in his hand and it ached.

Heisenberg lifted him off with a tired grunt, Ethan desperately ignoring the sensation of everything leaking out of him, and placed him back on the mattress, back in his place. And then, he yanked Ethan’s hand off, and without so much as another word, replaced it with his mouth.

“Fuck,”- Ethan screamed, the swirl of hot wet tongue making his hips spasm frantically, fingers tugging at the long hair.

Heisenberg took his cock nearly all the way down to the base, then went back up and pressed his tongue against the slit, lapped up at the fluid coming out and removed his mouth again.

“Taste fucking amazing, Ethan,”- He stated, and Ethan had no doubt that that was true. He licked at the shaft in one slow motion, starting at the base and making his way to the head, then back down again, and Ethan heard him take a deep inhale, practically nuzzle against his balls, and he wanted to scream, -“You’re good. You’re so good. Is this what you wanted?”

“Yeah. Yeah,”- He panted, holding the other man by the base of his neck as he fucked against his lips, his cheek, his mouth, leaving streaks of white across hot skin, -“You get me so hard. So fucking hard. Make me cum. Make me cum again.”

“I will. You will cum for me again and again, Ethan. You smell amazing,”- Heisenberg told him just as well, stroking and licking and it was the absolute weirdest blowjob Ethan has ever received in his life, but he was watching Heisenberg practically worship his dick with a look that many did not bother worshipping their gods with, and he was never a fan of dirty talk, but somehow this was now making his guts explode. He watched that mouth wrap around his tip, suck at it almost gently, his breath now a confused mess of moans and curses and growls.

“Fuck. Like that. Fuck, I’m going to fucking cum all over you-“

“Do it. Whatever you want. My face, my mouth, my chest. Anything,”- Heisenberg muttered against the shaft, then took it back down his throat, swallowed hard, and Ethan practically saw stars. By the time Heisenberg pulled back, half of Ethan’s cum was dripping down his chin, onto his beard, his collarbones, his arms.

“Like that, Ethan. Let go. Let it all go.”

And Ethan hated how gently he worked him through the rest of the orgasm, how that made him feel dirtier than the first one when he was ass up and practically blinded, how staring at Heisenberg’s cum-stained face pressed into his thigh was making him feel weak and desperate and like he never wanted to move ever again.

Heisenberg was still pressing a wet hicky into his leg by the time Ethan had finished, had time to come back down from his high, had time to remember everything he’d said and everything that was said to him, had time to feel the dried up fluids covering his body, and had time to realize that this was it. That the distraction was over.

He wanted to sink into the bed and wake up a week later.

He had no idea whose bed he wanted to wake up in.

Heisenberg gave his skin another whiff as he was standing up, looked at Ethan from underneath those greatly hooded eyes and smirked, and then simply walked back across the room to the table butt-naked, cum stains across his abdomen and crotch and chest and beard.

Ethan crawled up the bed slowly, no idea what he was supposed to say now. What was supposed to happen. He was beginning to get cold. His teeth ached.

He watched a very naked Heisenberg wipe at his mouth with the back of his hand, pick up the cigar he discarded earlier, then crouch down and search around for a lighter, which he used immediately.

And then he watched a puff of white smoke cloud the already hot and mussed up room.

This time, when Heisenberg reached over and offered the cigar, Ethan didn’t refuse.

He took a long drag and smoke filled his senses, seeped into his lungs and came back out as a violent cough, everything about the taste making him think of the man in front of him, the feeling weirdly soft for as sickly as it made him feel. His backside burned and he desperately needed a shower.

He didn’t know if regret was the right term for what he was feeling then. It felt about right.

Heisenberg simply laughed, and the sound, too, was making him melt further down into the bed.

“You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”- He asked settling back into bed, throwing a tattered blanket over both of them, and Ethan automatically moved aside to make space. His knees protested the new position.

He passed the cigar over, trying and failing not to move closer. The other man was still burning hot – and Ethan was so damn cold for so damn long.

He watched him take another long, slow drag, and this time instead of releasing it into the air, Heisenberg turned to look at him, blinked slowly once and then smiled and reached over.

Ethan didn’t have the time to think before opening his mouth up for the kiss, tasting the smoke and the cum and thinking it disgusting and yet reaching his tongue deeper in for more.

“Better?”- Heisenberg asked pulling back way too soon, watching as Ethan released a thinning cloud into a room that was beginning to look and feel like a fire hazard.

And Ethan took that moment to look him over. All sweaty and dirty and sullied, hair a wild mess, bite marks covering the entirety of his neck and shoulder, lips puffed out and red, that scar lost amongst the color. Eyes hooded, pupils blown out. A smile so gentle it could crack any second now.

And he looked- Karl looked- Heisenberg looked like a man. A normal, regular, content fucking person who was just happy to be there. Ethan swallowed down a lump in his throat, the smoke beginning to sting at his eyes.

He shuffled in closer, threw a leg over Heisenberg’s own. To warm up, he told himself, and Heisenberg’s expression told him he didn’t mind one bit. You’re alright, it told him. It’s okay.

“Yeah. I think I’m getting the hang of it,”- Ethan told him in a quiet voice. Didn’t know if regret was still in the room with him, or if it managed to slip out somewhere in between all the cigar smoke. He inhaled, and his lungs burned sweetly.

Heisenberg took another slow drag. Leaned back in for another kiss.

And this time, it lasted longer. The graze of lips was slow, the tongue slower yet to follow, gentle and intent on exploring, learning, mapping. And the second Ethan pulled back to release the smoke that was beginning to choke, Heisenberg was back in with another dose. Another kiss that lasted even longer.

Ethan was beginning to suspect the cigar was just an excuse.

His hand slipped over a warm thigh and squeezed. Nothing felt alien anymore.

Just slow. And sleepy.

“You should rest,”- Heisenberg told him when Ethan found himself inexplicably resting on his chest, fingers mindlessly playing with the hairs, throat weirdly tight.

“But-“

“Believe it or not, there’s still time, Ethan,”- He told him, a soft hand running up and down his arm. Ethan exhaled and tried not to think about how this looked. About how this felt. About how he felt, -“Sleep. Rest. I will wake you in the morning.”

He inhaled the smell of cigar smoke readily. Took another look around the tiny room that was the closest he felt to home in what felt like forever. Finally felt like he was no longer cold or hot.

Just warm.

“Okay. Morning it is.”

He settled back. Looked into the ceiling for a long moment, then rose up on his elbows to give Heisenberg another slow kiss – this time, in between cigar drags. Sighed into the little surprised sound he’d managed to extract. Settled back again and crawled further under the blankets.

The room was beginning to look like a dream, and for once, it wasn’t a nightmare.

He pressed his back to Heisenberg. Immediately, he felt an arm wrap around his waist. Lips pressed against his shoulder.

Ethan closed his eyes.

“And in the morning, we change everything.”

[debbiechanclub]

Know You Better Now (BTOOT sequel), Part 2

Probably not the best idea to drop this right after Extreme Rules, but I can’t wait because 😭 And that’s all I’m gonna say. Thank you for reading, and please enjoy!

Know You Better Now

Part: 2/?

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x TBD 👀

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Language, ANGST

Find more of my fics here.

Tag squad: @galacticstat @hotyeehawman @hdbngsprnva @kingswitchblade @bec0m @betsy-bradock @heelchampbucks @linziland13 @librathepheonix13 @gabbynorth98 @exe-babymox-exe @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @brokenglassslippers @rocca09 @meteora-fc @kawaiikels @adriii-omega @thatgirlforever5 @sugar-melts-mo-fo

“Did you see the look on PAC’s face when he realized Alex broke up the pin? He was so-ho-ho piiiissed.”

Nick could barely finish speaking before he emitted a laugh that sounded more like an asthmatic wheeze, and everyone else joined in, the boisterous boom bouncing off the walls of The Elite locker room and making Alex’s ears ring. She’d never felt so out of place.

“He looked like an angry gremlin,” Karl piled on. He contorted his face and hands and made everyone guffaw and bark even louder. Alex rolled her eyes. Out of all of them, Karl annoyed her the most.

“Yeah, that was quick thinking, Alex,” Matt said. “I knew you wouldn’t let us down.”

He sent her a crooked, shit-eating grin. Had he not tacked on that last part, it might have been half a compliment. But he knew exactly what he was doing—and Alex did not have the patience for it.

“Us? Last time I checked, Kenny is the AEW Champion, not The Elite.”

The room went dead silent. Matt’s smirk vanished.

“Don’t act like you know anything about The Elite,” he bit. “You’ve been here all of two seconds. We were selling out the Tokyo Dome when you were still working bingo halls.”

“Whoa!” Kenny interjected. “Watch who the hell you’re talking to like that, Matt.”

The atmosphere went from shocked to tense; palpable. Matt’s jaw flexed, obviously embarrassed to have been put in his place in front of the boys. Alex smirked. He deserved it.

Kenny sighed into the quiet. “Alright, you know what? Everyone out.”

“What?” Gallows balked. “We gotta celebrate your big win, man—”

Don cut him off. “You heard what he said, everyone out!”

He herded them all toward the exit, and other than a few side-eyes and under-breath comments, they went without argument. It was the first time Alex had ever been thankful for Don to step in.

The door fell closed, and Alex and Kenny were left alone. His eyes were much softer than they’d been just a few seconds before.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It’ll take a lot more than that for Matt to get to me.”

“I know, but he shouldn’t have said it at all. It was out of line.”

“It’s Matt. What do you expect?” she returned. It made Kenny purse his lips in disappointment.

“He’s not out to get you, Alex. He’s just protective of his friends.”

Her eyes darkened. “Is there a reason he thinks he needs to protect you from me?”

He breathed out in frustration. “Come on, that’s not what I said.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I wish you two would get along.”

Alex stubbornly crossed her arms and looked across the room. This wasn’t the first time he’d said that to her. She knew it wouldn’t be the last.

“Hey.” Kenny gently gripped her shoulders, and she looked back up at him. “I want you to feel like you’re a part of the group, Alex. And I know right now you don’t,” he quickly added before she could interject. “But give it time. You’ve been at home working on getting healthy, and the boys just want to be sure that you’re a team player. Which… I’m pretty sure you proved you are tonight.”

She lightly sucked her teeth. “I did that for you, not—”

“I know,” softly interrupted. “But any of them would have done the same thing.”

Alex rocked back on her heels and turned her eyes down to her shoes. She understood where Kenny was coming from, one thousand percent. But she didn’t think she should have to prove herself to “the boys.” And truthfully… she didn’t want to be a part of The Elite, either.

But she also didn’t want to get into an argument with Kenny, so she just let it go. “Well, thank you for putting Matt in his place,” she said. She wrapped her arms around his waist and drew herself close to him. “I’ll do my best to get along with him so long as he’s not an ass to me.”

“That’s all I want,” Kenny returned, and he placed a kiss on her lips that was perhaps meant to be short and sweet, but neither of them pulled away. He brought his hands to either side of her face, and she pressed her fingers into his back as she lightly sucked on his bottom lip. He smirked against her mouth. “You want to get in the shower with me?”

She pecked his lips again. “No.”

He pulled back in surprise. “Why not?”

“Because. I look way too good right now to ruin it.”

He flashed a crooked grin. She already knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Fine. I’ll just ruin it when we get home.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex had honestly hoped Kenny would ruin it when they got home. But unfortunately, they didn’t go home alone; Matt, Nick, and Don went with them. At least the Good Brothers had decided they’d rather go drink at the hotel bar.

“So, have you officially moved in yet, Alex?”

Nick smirked at her from across the kitchen island, his mouth full of pizza. They’d ordered some “late night celebratory pies,” as Kenny had put it, but Alex didn’t have much of an appetite. She didn’t dignify Nick with a response either, instead just pursing her lips and taking a sip of the red wine she’d poured herself. As if he wouldn’t have already known if she’d officially moved in; he was one of Kenny’s best friends.

“Shit, I forget that she doesn’t ‘officially’ live here,” Kenny commented, making air quotes around the word. “It already feels like you do. Isn’t most of your stuff here?”

“Most of my clothes are,” she answered. “But I still have an entire house full of stuff in Virginia.”

“Wasn’t your cousin interested in potentially buying from you?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “I suppose. She asked me if I was thinking about selling, but we haven’t discussed it.”

“Well… maybe you should.”

He sent her a grin. She chewed the inside of her lip. “Maybe,” she returned, and took another sip of wine.

“Speaking of official,” Don segued. “Is Alex officially with us now?”

Alex stiffened. She didn’t at all appreciate that Don had spoken as if she wasn’t standing right there. But she couldn’t really answer him, either.

“Come on, why wouldn’t she be?” Kenny returned.

“Because tonight was the first time she’s been on AEW programming in what—nine months?” He fixed Alex with his beady eyes and finally addressed her directly. “People still think of you as part of Best Friends. And even though you broke up that pin in Kenny’s interest, the fact of the matter is that you technically helped Orange, too.”

“What?” Kenny let out a loud, disbelieving laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, Don! She would have done the exact same thing if it had been Orange going for the pin instead of PAC.”

“Would she?” Matt challenged. He glanced at Alex. “Would you?”

Kenny’s eyes widened at him. “Really, Matt?” he charged—but Alex spoke up.

“No, if they’re so concerned about it, then I’ll tell them.” She leaned forward on the island and looked Matt dead in the eye. “Of course I would have done the exact same thing if it had been Orange going for the pin instead of PAC. And you know why? Because I was out there in Kenny’s corner tonight, and tonight was the first time in months that I’ve seen or even spoken to Orange or any of the others. So no, I’m not a part of Best Friends anymore.”

It hurt to finally say that out loud; but it wasn’t anything Alex hadn’t already known deep down. She’d known it as soon as Kris had popped out of that claw machine a month ago… maybe even sooner. And their behavior toward her that night—Trent’s behavior—had only proven it.

Kenny wrapped an arm around her waist and placed a kiss on the side of her head. Matt, meanwhile, said nothing. It seemed she’d finally shut him up—for now.

Don nodded. “That’s all I need to hear.”

Alex shifted. Somehow, she doubted that.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way,” Nick interjected. “Do you guys have any ice cream?”

“Jesus, Nick,” Matt breathed; but Kenny perked up.

“We do, actually. Alex has turned me onto Blue Bell.” He started for the freezer. “Do you want some, baby? We still have mint chocolate chip.”

Alex shook her head. “No. I’m actually gonna head upstairs; I’m exhausted.”

Part of her knew that, by going to bed, she was only inviting them to talk about her more. But she didn’t care. Matt could spew whatever bullshit he wanted; Kenny knew where she stood, and that was all that mattered.

He nodded. “Okay. I’m honestly not far behind you.”

She put her wine glass in the sink and gave him a kiss on the way out of the kitchen. Her legs were tired as she climbed the stairs to their bedroom. Our bedroom, she realized she thought of it as, not Kenny’s bedroom. She wasn’t sure when she’d made that switch, but she was hyper-aware of it now after Kenny’s comment just a few minutes before. But just the thought of selling her house stressed her out; she had enough on her plate as it was, and she didn’t want to give any of it any more of her energy for the rest of the night—

Beep-beep!

But she got a text just as she crossed into the bedroom. She sighed and pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans—and stopped when she saw the screen.

It was from Trent.

I’m sorry about what I said tonight. I just didn’t know how to react.

Alex’s brow lowered as she read the message. She knew Trent, and something in her gut told her that he hadn’t sent that on his own. No; Kris had probably beat him over the head until he’d relented. He would have been better off not sending anything at all.

She purposefully opened the text so that he would get the “read” notification, and then she locked her phone, tossed it onto the bed, and went into the bathroom to do her nighttime routine. If there was one thing she definitely would not give any more of her energy to, it was that.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Dynamite following Double Or Nothing wasn’t until Friday, so Alex had nearly an entire week to mentally prepare herself. She needed the extra time. Because, in the interest of “publicly clearing up any confusion” about where her loyalties lied, Don had booked her a sit-down interview with Excalibur.

She’d been furious when he’d told her. So had Kenny—he’d set it up behind both their backs. But of course, Don had talked him down and convinced him that it was “the right move.” Afterward, Kenny had profusely apologized to her; but she’d just told him to forget it. She’d do the damn interview. She wanted to speak her mind.

But now that she was sitting across from Excalibur in one of the backstage areas at Daily’s Place, she felt like she might vomit.

He spoke to the camera as he opened up the interview. “I’m sitting here with Alex Hawthorne, who made a surprise return after a nine-month absence at Double Or Nothing this past Sunday… and before we get into the interview, Alex, I just want to say welcome back. You were gone rehabbing a shoulder injury, and you’ve clearly come back in fighting shape. I think we all did a double-take when you walked out with Kenny Omega on Sunday.”

Alex felt herself relax a bit. It felt good to be acknowledged. She hadn’t felt that in a while. “Thank you, Excalibur, I appreciate that. It feels good to be back, and I have come back in fighting shape—not just physically, but mentally, as well. When I found out that my shoulder needed surgery, it was a bitter pill to swallow. And I’m not gonna lie; I struggled with it at first. But I distinctly remember waking up in that post-op room after surgery, and I realized right then and there that I could either let this injury drag me down, or I could use it as an opportunity to come back even better than before. And I promise you—and the entire AEW women’s division—that this isn’t the same Alex Hawthorne who competed in that ring nine months ago.”

Excalibur nodded. “Which begs the question: when can we expect you back in the ring?”

She breathed out. “Soon,” she nodded, her tone determined. “I still have some work to do, but it’ll be soon.”

“And we all look forward to it,” he said. “But you mentioned that you’re not the same Alex Hawthorne you were nine months ago. We’re used to seeing you at ringside in support of Best Friends… however, you returned in Kenny Omega’s corner for the AEW World Championship match at Double or Nothing, a match that also included Orange Cassidy. Is it safe to say that this new and improved Alex Hawthorne has moved on from Best Friends?”

Alex’s heart jumped into her throat. There it was, the million-dollar question, the reason for this entire interview, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d think Don had fed that line directly to Excalibur. But he didn’t like Don any more than she did—and she needed to give an answer. So, she did.

“It’s safe to say that, yeah.”

Her stomach churned and she looked down at her hands in her lap. It was out there now. She couldn’t take it back.

“Well, I have to ask,” Excalibur started, and she flicked her eyes back up at him. “You interfered in the match on Sunday and most likely prevented PAC from winning the AEW World Championship. But you also prevented Orange from taking the pin. Is there no part of you that did that for him?”

Alex’s brow lowered. First Don, and now this? Why was everyone so confused about her motive? “No. I did that for Ken—”

“Who cares who ya did it for!”

She was abruptly cut off by an angry, distinctly accented voice, and then PAC unexpectedly stalked into the interview area. He fixed Alex with a wild-eyed glare. “It’s like Excalibur said… you cost me the AEW World Championship.”

Alex leaned away from him in her chair as he moved closer. The entire sight of him was jarring, that ubiquitous scowl of his contorting his face, his dark, wet hair dripping water down his bare chest. She looked him over in confusion. Why was he already in his gear, ready to go? He and Penta had a match that night against the Young Bucks, but the show didn’t start for another two hours.

Excalibur tried to intervene. “PAC, we’re doing an interview here—”

But PAC just talked over him. “I know you’ve been gone a long time, Alex. And I have to admit, you do look good. So, here’s a bit of advice: instead of interfering in his matches, why don’t ya stick to being Kenny Omega’s arm candy.”

Alex’s eyes darkened. Suddenly, all her surprise turned to anger. “Arm candy?”

“You heard me,” he spat.

“Do you even own regular clothes? Or do you just live in your gear dripping wet like you emerged from the Atlantic Ocean?”

“Hey, PAC!”

Another person interrupted then, and Alex and PAC both looked over to find the Young Bucks, Brandon Cutler, and the Good Brothers stalking toward them. But it wasn’t just them. They had Rey Fenix—and it looked like he’d already been jumped.

Matt smirked. “Did you lose something?”

PAC growled in his throat. He charged toward them—but they dumped Fenix to the floor and retreated, laughing as they did. Nick held up his hands. “We’re saving our energy for the match tonight!”

PAC let them go, choosing instead to help his friend. Meanwhile, Alex jumped up and ran after them—the interview was over.

“Hey!” They all turned to look back at her, but her focus was zeroed in on Matt. This was his doing, she knew it. “What the fuck did you do that for?”

He scoffed. “To send a message, obviously. Come on, Alex… I thought you were with us now?”

He flashed another crooked smirk, and then they all started off again, patting each other on the back and hyping the Bucks up for the match that night. And Alex just stood and watched them go, all the while realizing that she was with them now—and she’d all but said it for the entire world to hear.

* * * * * * * * * *

“You ready to head home?”

Alex looked up at Kenny, re-emerging from her thoughts. She nodded. “Please.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile and held out his hand, and she took it and let him pull her up and lead her out of the locker room. It was the end of the night, and she’d been ready to head home before a single match had even been contested.

To her great surprise, Dynamite had started off by airing the footage of her interview. Alex had barely been able to watch, knowing what was coming, what she’d said. But when it was all said and done, it didn’t even feel like it was about her anymore. The interview had led right into the tag match between the Young Bucks and PAC and Penta—the story became the Super Elite’s attack on Fenix, not her return. And Alex wasn’t sure if she was more relieved that they’d distracted from the fact that she’d basically disowned Best Friends, or more angered that they’d taken away from everything else she’d said.

“I am ready to just relax and spend the weekend alone with you,” Kenny said as they walked down the hall. He grinned at her. “I told everyone to lose my number.”

Alex returned his smile, and Kenny lifted the back of her hand to his lips; but she barely noticed as he kissed her. She was too distracted by the group of people who had appeared in the corridor.

Best Friends. All of them. And it didn’t take long for Trent to say something.

“Where’re you going, Alex? Kris has a Dark match. Oh, wait—that’s right. You’ve moved on from us.”

“Dude,” Kris chastised and lightly smacked his shoulder. “Don’t.”

Kenny scoffed. “I’d listen to your alien friend, Trent.”

“No one was talking to you,” Orange returned.

Kenny narrowed his eyes at him. Alex squeezed his hand in protest; the last thing she needed was for him to go on one of his power trips. Thankfully, he let it go.

“I’ve already taken care of you, so I won’t embarrass you in front of your friends,” he dismissed. “Come on,” he said, and he started to pull Alex past them; but Trent just couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Was that you giving that interview? Or were Kenny and Don pulling the strings on your mouth?”

“Fuck, Greg,” Chuck breathed—but Alex spoke over him.

“Was that you who sent that text Sunday night, or did one of them make you send it?”

She glared a hole through Trent, unwavering and angry, waiting for him to say something for himself. Anything. But he just bit down on his jaw, silent. Alex scoffed. It was just as she’d suspected.

“What text?” Kenny asked in confusion. Alex didn’t take her eyes off Trent as she answered.

“Trent sent me a text after Double Or Nothing apologizing for being a dick to me before your match. He said he ‘just didn’t know how to react’ to seeing me.”

“I didn’t know how to react,” Trent fired back.

“Oh, so it was just the apology that was bullshit, then.”

He breathed out and looked stubbornly away, nothing to say again. And as she continued to stare at him, Alex realized that she wasn’t surprised or even hurt by his reaction. Instead, she was vindicated in everything she’d been feeling.

Her gaze sharpened. “But since you asked so nicely; yeah, that was me giving that interview, one hundred percent. And you have no room to be angry about it, Trent, because whether you want to admit it or not, you all moved on from me months ago.”

Chuck’s brow furrowed in confusion. In hurt. “What? Alex—”

“Save it,” Kenny cut him off. “Good luck in your match, Kris,” he added, and then he tugged on Alex’s hand, and she turned and went with him, ignoring the way her sinuses burned.

[chippedaxe]

𝕯𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓 𝕸𝖈𝖞𝖙 𝕳𝖈'𝖘

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Title: 𝕯𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓 𝕸𝖈𝖞𝖙 𝕳𝖈'𝖘

Warnings: SFW at the top, NSFW at the bottom!! Demons, religious things may be mentioned.

Pronouns: They/Them, non gender specific anatomy

Synopsis: Demon Mcyt X mortal reader hc's

Word count: 1.3k

Note: No one asked for this but if I have an idea than I need to write it <3

- This is an old draft that I have finally finished.

- Also I didn't feel like writing for Punz today, apologies.

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

SFW (Safe to read)

c! Dream

- He would be hot to the touch, skin burning you almost every time you two made contact. It was hard dating him until he had finally got enough and decided to strike a deal with you, knowing it was the only way you two could live in peace.

- "Give me a part of your soul and I will be yours forever" you hadn't even thought about it until after you gave him your hand, falling unconscious at the moment he let go of you.

- You always felt a little bit emptier inside but Dream was there to fill the hole inside your soul, feeling guilty every passing moment that he stole your soul away. His deal however had meant that he was now in debt to you which therefore meant he couldn't harm you in any way, insuring he could no longer burn you.

c! Sapnap

- He was warm but he wasn't burning hot, you could touch him without getting injured which was great! His saliva tingled as it lingered on your skin however, feeling a bit spicy as it burned your skin slightly.

- Sapnap would rest his horns on you as a way of showing affection, lowering his head and bumping you with them was what he did to make you feel loved.

- It didn't work a lot though obviously since you wouldn't know, to you it just seemed like some annoying thing he was doing to get on your nerves! When he finally explains it to you is when your face drops, you feel so guilty for telling him off for it!

c! George

- He'd curl up with you on the couch or on the bed wherever the two of you are, his body heat keeping you warm during the cold. His pheromones' would also encourage you to fall asleep a lot easier, sometimes accidentally causing you to doze off during the day.

- George would sometimes go to sleep for long periods during the day just so you could stay awake longer, you two were so worried sometimes about his pheromones' but you knew you could do nothing about it.

- Your body eventually started to grow resistant to his pheromones' and you'd be able to stay awake which was fantastic for the two of you!

c! Eret

- Her as a demon? It'd be proper madness! You'd definitely be treated as either a toy or as her little pet, you'd have to obey her every command! "Darling, come here.." they'd beckon you with his long claw.

- Their nails would drag against your skin gently as the two of you cuddled and laid together, threatening to pierce your skin but never doing so.

- She bites you? Don't worry about it. It's just a way he's showing their affection, chomping onto your skin to release your blood. A way of marking you and claiming you as his.

c! Karl

- I feel like he wouldn't properly understand how humans work, gasping and being surprised when he sees your sleeping form "did you just die?" he asks you. He pokes you awake and invades you with questions.

- You do the same to him, grabbing his tail and pulling at his horns "What's these for then?" you question "That's my tail! I use it for- I don't know! Balance?" he tries to answer you.

- He's a demon. Touch starved. He'd melt in your arms as soon as you lay a finger on him, desperate to always be near you and touch you.

NSFW (Minors DNI)

Nsfw warning(s): blood mentions, temp play?, power play definitely, corruption maybe, degrading, knife (claw) play, somni, idk what other warnings to include.

c! Dream

- Hot. So hot. Everything is so hot. Dream would shudder and cry at how good your hot fleshy walls feels around his cock as he fucked your slutty hole.

- He's strong as hell, being able to just lift you up and toss you wherever he wants! He'd be the type to just pick you up and pin you against the wall (consensually).

- He'd love making out with you the most, it'd be his favorite activity to do with you apart from the actual sex.

c! Sapnap

- He's a sweetheart no doubt about it! He will take care of you and make sure you are having the absolute time of your life, being careful as to not injure you or strain you too much since he knows he can go on for a long time.

- He will only stop when you ask him to stop since he won't realize that you've been tired out, hips slamming into yours ruthlessly and without mercy until you call out to him "Sorry darling! I'll be more careful!" and then he slows down.

- You remember how I mentioned his hot saliva? Yeah, lets talk about that again. His warm wet tongue would be slithering all over you, he would be leaning over your body and slobbering and drooling like s starved man.

- His hot spit would feel weird at first, a very hot burning sensation against your soft mortal skin. It'd burn marks into you that would last only a few days, a reminder to yourself that he was yours and only yours.

c! George

- He'd let out a sweet alluring smell when the two of you would have sex, the scent messing with your head and clouding it with only thoughts of him- filling your mind and mouth with absolute garbage which made you babble "feel..so good!"

- George would indulge in somnophillia with you, (if you granted him permission to do so) pleasing your body while your subconscious was resting.

- He would whisper things in your ear as you slept, little lingering touches on your skin which made your sleeping body's mind wander into having an erotic and lewd dream about him.

c! Eret

- He'd bite you with his fangs and then lick up the blood, slurping it up like some kind of brute vampire.

- Her nails would dig into you as he held your arms above your head, their claws threatening to cut you as he ran his hands over your soft body. "It'd be so easy to just slit your throat right now, such a small fragile being.. You wouldn't be able to stop me, you wouldn't be able to do anything!" she knew how much power his words had over you.

- He would embarrass and humiliate you whenever he wanted, putting you on display and showing you off as her prize. They wouldn't hesitate to let the whole world know you're his.

c! Karl

- He'd be so curious, hands anywhere and everywhere while exploring your human body. "Oh what's this for?" he'd massage your chest "hey- don't.." you wouldn't even be able to finish your sentence as he'd start playing with your nipples.

- He would be so inexperienced with you but yet still feel so good! Karl would spread your legs and just lick away "What's this taste like? What's this liquid?" and he'd easily get addicted.

- Karl would squirm a lot when you try to touch him, you'd have to reassure him as well that you were fine and didn't mind doing this "in fact- it's a pleasure! I'd love to touch you, find out more about your body and especially it's reproductive organs.." you tell him.

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

[moral-turpitudes]

A Sister’s Intuition:

A/N: The gif has nothing to do with this one. It just made me chuckle cuz this most certainly has fighting.

Also, this is a weird mix of Arthur actually killing the church dude, but instead of Linda trying to shoot him right after like in the show, this story is like the event that causes her to go off the rails and try to shoot him (and fictionally, Y/N lol can you imagine). So this, in my fucked up mind, is the calm before the storm that is the lovely Linda with a gun.

Trigger Warnings: Fighting obviously, Mentions of Blood, Angst, Family Drama?, Cheating, Taunting, Swearing.

Word Count: 2,114

Characters: Shelby Family x Shelby!Sister Reader

Requested: Yes, well it was suggested but still. Long story short I have a bone to pick with my brothers gf and this was cathartic. 

Request by: Anon, you can find it here.

Summary: Linda is being Linda and Y/N can’t stand her messing with her brother Arthur’s head another day. She just snaps. People and their feelings get hurt. Nothing like a nice bloody family dinner at the Shelby-Gray household.

Y/N’s skin crawled as she heard the voice of the woman downstairs. Her heart racing and fists clenching as she heard the half-hearted laughs and forceful exchange of pleasantries that were painstakingly muttered by the rest of the Shelby family.

As she smoothed out her dress, she heard Polly calling for her, surely to help with setting the table for dinner. With shaking hands she opened her door, her eldest brother Arthur’s laugh echoing through the lavish house as she made her way down the stairs.

“Y/N, nice of you to join us.” Thomas said, patting her on the shoulder as she sulked to the kitchen, avoiding Linda’s ever-judgmental gaze.

“I’ll set the table.” She said, Polly nodding at her with an annoyed expression as she glanced out into the dining room. The feeling fortunately seeming mutual.

“How’s the farm treating you brother? Having fun with the baby?” Ada asked, as Karl reached for one of the rolls in the basket Y/N was setting down.

“It’s good, quiet.” He said, his eyes looking tired and emotionless as the years went by.

“Don’t eat too much now, you won’t want dinner sweetheart.” Ada said, giving him a warning glance as Y/N silently set the table, glancing at Arthur’s troubled state. Thomas couldn’t help but notice his youngest sisters rage as she harshly set the silverware down, especially the knives.

It had been two years since the first conflict between her and Linda. The whole thing starting as Linda slowly brainwashed Arthur. No one really noticed at first, how she sunk her claws into him. How he’d stop his excessive use of cocaine, or his anger fueled drunken rampages on a dime. How he’d mess up on missions, putting them at risk. Or how he started asking Linda for permission to go places and her ordering him to be home at certain times when on business. No one noticed that while some of his habits were best left in the past, he was also leaving part of himself. The part of him that she knew and grew up with. The part that smiled and joked. The part that didn’t question himself and his worth on a daily basis. This was how she pulled him in, and he was forever tied to her now. Seeing as their 1 year old sat in his lap, giggly and oblivious to the pressures and expectations he’d be raised on years later whether Arthur wanted him to be or not.

The big blow up between them though, was when Y/N learned she cheated. If she inherited one good thing in life from the Shelby family it was her intuition. Her ability to sense when a person meant harm. Her ability to know when someone was nothing more than a snake. A soul-sucking, venomous snake.

The night she found out, she made sure Arthur was alright, or at least alive, knowing how he could spiral at any given moment. That was one thing about growing up around a dysfunctional family. Knowing when the others needed help, and knowing when to help set others straight. And he had seemed okay, at least until a few days later.

That same week Arthur killed the man she’d cheated on him with, going down a dark spiral as he grappled with his sins. His eyes brimming with tears and hands stained red as he walked into the house unannounced, nearly giving Polly a heart attack.

Y/N remembering how she sat him down and wiped the tears from his eyes and blood from his busted knuckles as he stared at her.

“These are the hands of a devil, Y/N...how can I be saved like this?” He asked through tears.

“Don’t ask how god can save you. Ask how you can save yourself.” She said, wrapping his hands in gauze.

“What?” He asked, confused. The tears streamed down his face as she urged him to drink a glass of water, given he was already in a drunken state.

“You have to save yourself, Arthur. I can’t do it for you. Linda cheated on you yeah? Well it’s not the first time she’s hurt you. No one else can really see it...not even you...but I can...She’s made you into someone you’re not. You may need to slow it on the drinking and drugs, and get your anger in check, but you don’t have to completely ruin yourself over some words in a book or some girl alright? I want my brother back...” She said giving him a strong hug. She wasn’t known for talking much, always preferring to stay in the background and being quiet, but she threw insults and plans around in her head just like Thomas. But when she did say something, people listened.

The day after Arthur attacked Linda’s lover, she decided to meet with her at her house. The rain pouring down as she made her way up the winding dirt roads, her thoughts running through her mind as she reluctantly stepped inside the farmhouse.

“Oh, Y/N. Wasn’t expecting you.” She said, a disgusted look on her face.

“We agreed last night to meet but I guess you didn’t remember. Must’ve been a bit preoccupied I see.” Y/N said, leaning to the side as she saw yet another man walking around the house that wasn’t Arthur. There was a long, awkward silence before she continued.

“I’m just here to warn you that you’ll get what’s coming to you. You don’t fuck with the Shelby family.” She said spitting at her feet.

“You know Y/N? You’re just like the rest of them. No morals...no class...nothing.” She said.

Y/N smirked as she inched closer to her, standing almost eye to eye. With a quick draw of her arm, she landed a harsh slap to her face. Her handprint stinging and bright red as it adorned Linda’s cheek.

“You’re one to talk about morals and class. People like you make me sick.” Y/N spat, walking off as Linda stood there holding her cheek. Her mystery lover nowhere to be seen as he’d retreated back to the bedroom in hiding, most surely thinking Arthur was there.

As she set the final glass down, she was brought out of her horrendous memories by the voice of her brother John.

“Aye Y/N, how’s your training been going with Finn and the guys? Think you could take him out yet?” He said, a mischievous smirk on his face. Linda scowled as she glanced over at Y/N, probably remembering how her face stung after the blow. The event seeming years away due to the hectic business of the blinders and the growing number of kids in the family.

“I highly doubt she could. Even if she grew up with you lot as brothers. Besides, it’s not ladylike. You can’t fight around the children.” Linda said, sipping her tea.

Y/N’s eyes pierced hers as she sat there. Her appetite fading as she got up from the table.

“Y/N...now’s not the time for this. Sit down.” Polly said, pointing at the empty chair between her and Thomas.

“I have no desire to sit with someone I can’t trust. You’ll get what’s coming to you Linda. I swear it on our mums grave.” She said getting up from the table again, this time making it to the kitchen before hearing quick footsteps.

“You said that last time and nothing happened. What are you going to do? All this family does is make empty promises. You’re just a worthless girl with nothing but her families bad manners and filthy blood money...” Linda continued, Y/N zoning out as she unclasped her earrings and threw them on the counter. Her eyes scanning Linda’s movements as she stepped closer, cracking her knuckles. John got up as soon as he heard her bad-mouthing his sister. Finn stood and made his way near her only for John to hold him back with a smirk, knowing this was long over-due.

She didn’t say anything as she swung a left hook, a loud crack sounding through the room as Linda stumbled back. John cheering slightly as she regained her composure.

“I told ya you’d get what’s coming to you.” She said, as Linda lunged forward and went to slap her in the face, but failing as Y/N blocked her hand and twisted causing a scream to erupt from her lying mouth. Blood was dripping from her nose as Arthur and Thomas came in. To her surprise, they didn’t jump in nor did Arthur try to stop her, knowing all too well his once precious Linda was bound to pay somehow. Polly and Ada shielded the children, holding their hands over their eyes as the mini brawl panned out.

“You’re going to hell!” Linda yelled, punching Y/N in the shoulder as she cried.

“I’ve been there already love, it’s quite nice.” She said moving back and raising her arms up to guard her face, looking for an open spot, eventually landing a final blow to Linda’s ribs that left her on the ground gasping for air.

Thomas suddenly grabbed Y/N’s arm and yanked her back. She wasn’t kicking and screaming, but he could see the rage in her eyes. The way his and Arthur’s often looked.

“Enough. Alright? She got the message. Enough.” He said.

“No. No I don’t think she did. Get off me.” She spat, trying to wrestle her way out of her brothers grasp.

Thomas let go so he wouldn’t hurt her, but watched on as she stalked towards Linda and Arthur.

“You can see how you’ve torn this family up right? I can’t speak for everyone, even for the man you’ve hurt, but I can speak for me and I’ll never accept you into this family again. Never. Now get out of my fucking house.” She said lowly, grabbing Linda’s arm harshly as Arthur tried to stop her.

“Y/N I’ll take her, you go cool down.” Arthur said, his hands shaking a bit as he was still torn between the hurt from Linda’s past actions and the love he had for her. 

Y/N stood up with her arms crossed, her knuckles bloodied and aching as she stared her brother down.

“Arthur...do you remember what I told you that night? You have to save yourself. She’s going to keep you trapped in those same situations again if you don’t do something. She’ll hurt you if you don’t watch out.” She said, wiping a tear from her cheek as she shoved past her brothers and Polly, the children crying as an awkward silence fell over the house. She sulked back up to her room, cleaning her knuckles and bandaging them the best she could, knowing everyone probably hated her now.

“What was that aye?” Thomas asked.

“Fucking hell Tommy.” She said, jumping slightly at his voice from the doorway.

“I was just doing what no one else wanted to fucking do. Someone had to make her and our idiot brother see reason.” She said, wincing as she tried to wrap the gauze around her knuckles.

Thomas silently came over and helped her, trying to think of something to say as he snipped the last of the white fabric.

“You all hate me I already know. I just couldn’t sit there as she acted like everything was fine. Like she didn’t hurt him multiple times. She’s nothing but trouble and no one fucking understands that.” She said, tears welling up in her eyes.

“He can protect himself...I’m sure he’ll come around. And we don’t hate you. Besides, if I was betting on you that would’ve been the best fight of the year. I know for a fact you can take down Finn.” He said, trying to lighten her mood.

“I already did, he just doesn’t talk about it.” She said giggling and wiping the tears away as she gave him a hug. He sighed as he wrapped his arms protectively around her.

“She also had it coming. She said I had no morals...and no class....I just couldn’t let her talk that way about me...and about our family.” She said.

“Aye she did have it coming, I’ll agree on that. But you can’t listen to her. There will always be people who’ll say those things. They just don’t understand us.” He said.

“Well, they should work on that then aye? I guess next time I’ll try not to beat anyone up. I’m not promising anything though.” She said, Thomas chuckling as she broke from the hug and went into her room.

“I’ll see what’s going on down there. You just rest. But uh,,,do me a favor aye?” He asked.

“Yeah?”

“If someone does say something, don’t go at them alone. Tell me alright?” He asked.

“Okay...” she said with a sigh, hoping the night could be over with.

“Good, I’ll see you at the family meeting tomorrow then. Bright and early.” He said with a smirk.

“Oh fuck off Tommy...Goodnight.” She said, play-punching his shoulder.

“Goodnight.” He said, putting his cap on and making his way out the door to whatever family chaos awaited him.

[draconic-ichor]

In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 28: The Pot Boils Over

Warnings:” strong language, sexual themes

Summar: Juniper finally comes clean to Heisenberg…

Feedback appreciated. 18+

Their interactions for the following days didn’t fare better. Juniper was touchy and moody, almost bursting into tears at some of Heisenberg’s comments. He was at a loss, used to her being a bantering partner.

She’d started avoiding the workshop, from a mixture of the smell and her recent lack of patience for his joking. At night Heisenberg would frequently hear her crying softly when she thought he’d fallen asleep or while she hid away in the bathroom.

It broke his heart.

He knew she was suffering, but wouldn’t talk to him. When he would attempt to get answers from her it seemed to push her father away.

So he started focusing on work more, spending more time away from the apartment.

His worry worked its way into a sharp blade, slicing into him when his mind would wander.

Was it his fault? It must be. That’s why she wouldn’t speak to him…

The thought swam darkly around his brain.

How did he fuck up?

The worry was blanketed with anger and annoyance, his usual response to hard to process emotions. He knew what being angry felt like, it was normal. It was easier to handle, he thought.

But it made him simmer like a kettle, ready to boil over every second. The deeper he sunk into worry and self-loathing without any type of answers, the higher the heat rose on the kettle.

After their most recent spout, it finally did boil over…

Heisenberg sat reading at the table, smoking a cigar quietly. Juniper bruised herself with cleaning up the dishes after their most recent meal. The smoke hit her face, making her wrinkle her nose. For some odd reason it sent a sharp bolt of annoyance through her.

“Do you have to do that?” She grumbled as she wiped down the table with a damp rag.

“What??” Heisenberg looked up sharply, confused.

“Smoke at the table while I’m cleaning.”

“And? It never bothered you before.”

“It’s bothering me now!” She snapped.

Heisenberg dropped the cigar in the ashtray, fixing her with a narrow gaze. “Just deciding to be a complete bitch to me or does it just come naturally?” He barked, leaning back in the chair.

“Excuse me?” Juniper threw down the rag, turning to meet his gaze.

They stared down at each other for a long, tense moment. Juniper was the first to break, looking away with glassy eyes.

“You are such an asshole.” She began to walk away, hiding her face.

“Me?” Heisenberg stood, anger rising, “You’ve been treating me like shit.” He went after her, grabbing her wrist in a strong hold. Juniper stopped dead but didn’t look back at him.

“Why have you been acting so damn weird?”Heisenberg asked, his brows knotting together. His voice was rough and accusing.

“Getting all buddy-buddy with Donna?” He walked towards her, “Being quiet as hell around me? Acting like I’m going to bite, what’s going on?”

Juniper’s shoulders shook a bit, refusing to turn toward him. He didn’t take the silence well, grabbing her arm and forcing her to face him.

“Juniper, fucking talk to me!” He almost begged, “If I fucked up just tell me.”

He saw tears start to fall from her eyes, her lips trembling. Heisenberg heard the cups and plates in the cabinets begin to shake and clink together.

He took a breath, trying to calm his voice a bit, realizing she was much more distressed then she was letting on.

“Buttercup?” He wiped a tear away, “What did I do?”

Juniper pushed him away a bit, “W-we messed up Karl.” On the chairs fell away from the table with a loud clatter, papers swirled around them.

Confusion clouded his eyes.

“K-Karl,” she stammered through tears, “I’m pregnant!”

His grip fell from her, his face losing color. In the wake of his silence she started to blurt everything out.

“I've been asking Donna to teach me how to sew and make clothes so I c-could maybe make things later.” Her hands covered her face, “And I've been trying to c-collect things that wouldn’t be suspicious.”

Heisenberg stumbled back a bit, his lips a thin line. His mind was a garbled mess, stomach totally flipping as he almost lost his footing. The floor felt like jelly under his legs and thought hammered through his brain. So much made sense now but damn…it was a lot to take in.

“I didn’t know how to tell you!” Juniper cried, “I thought you would hate me.” The papers and small bits of metal began to fly erratically around them, silverware rattled in the drawers as the kitchen knives threatened to pull free from the block.

She gulped, looking up at him, “Please say something. Say anything!”

She almost begged, “Just yell at me Karl, please!”

Heisenberg looked almost dumbfounded, eyes wide, as he asked in a low voice, “Buttercup, you’re pregnant?”

“Haven’t you been listening?”

“Are you sure?”

“I think so…I took a test.” She looked down, “And my stomach feels different…”

“Fuck.” Heisenberg whispered, crumpling into the kitchen chair. His hands balled into his hair.

Juniper stood still for a moment, trying to control her breathing. Everything in the room started to slow until the debris around them fell to the floor. The cabinets grew silent as the soft hum died. Juniper wiped her eyes with a shaking hand.

“How long?” Heisenberg’s voice was hardly auditable.

“About a month.” She admitted, padded closer.

He put his face into his hands, his thoughts a storm in his head.

“D-Do you want me to leave?” Juniper asked, her voice wavering.

He looked up suddenly at her, “Of course not! Just give me a fucking second ok.”

She nodded, worrying her hands.

~

It was a while before they had a real conversation about the matter, eventually sitting down to talk.

Shocked couldn’t begin to describe how he felt.

He shifted between bewilderment and fear.

“Heis…” Juniper knocked on the side of the doorway to the shop.

Heisenberg didn’t move, his chin resting on his folded hands, “Hm?”

“Can…can we talk?” Juniper’s voice was heavy, almost pleading.

“…sure.” He answered, his voice was not tinged with any ill.

She came forward, pulling up a chair to sit close to him. They sat in silence for a long moment before words tugged at her lips.

“You haven’t broken anything.” She observed, almost surprised.

“I’m not angry.” He said frankly, not moving his head to look at her.

“Then…what are you?” She ventured.

He mulled over his answer, not truthfully sure himself.

“Confused.” He finally admitted.

Juniper nodded in understanding, even though she had time to process everything.

“And a bit upset.” He went on, “That you waited so long to tell me.” Juniper opened her mouth but he continued, “We’re in this together…you shouldn’t feel like you have to hide shit from me.”

His words stung a bit but she understood his hurt.

“I’m sorry.” She reached out a hand, fingers finding his coat sleeve.

He gave a little rumble of acknowledgment.

“This also makes our lives a lot more complicated…everything is fucked.”

“Does it have to be?”

“Well it sure as hell puts me on a tight time limit on the whole ‘revolution’ thing.” He snorted.

When she didn’t speak he rattled on, “Your in danger…so much more than before. I’m not losing you again.”

His voice was determined, almost breaking under the weight of his promise to himself.

“And about…about the baby?” She held onto his sleeve even tighter, worry making her tremble a bit.

His lips were a thin line, eyes clouded. “We’ll figure it out…” he sighed, “Won’t let that bitch have it either.”

His words gave her a bit of relief; hearing his want to protect not only her but the baby quelled her fears of him rejecting the child altogether

“…you said you took a test?” He ventured, words breaking the silence that had blanked the room.

Juniper nodded, “I bought one from the Duke.”

“Where is it now?” He asked.

Juniper shifted uncomfortably.

“What did you do with it, Doll?”

“I…panicked.”

“Where?”

Her eyes teared up a bit, “I-I threw it off the balcony…into the scrapyard.”

Heisenberg gave a heavy, exasperated sigh. There was a silence between them for a moment before Heisenberg stood, “I have to find it.”

He paused, “What does it look like?”

“A little pink and white stick…made out of plastic.” She admitted.

“Of course it fucking is…”

~

It took him three days of sifting through scrap to find the test. When he found it he burned it until it was unrecognizable then disposed of it in the deepest reaches of the factory. Now that it was gone it gave him a small semblance of relief.

Even now Juniper acted like more of a mother then Miranda had: speaking fondly about the growing life and in the soft tones of her voice. The very fact she strove to learn new skills for the future child’s benefit spoke volumes to him.

He was still on the fence with how he felt, a mixture of fear and confusion. But seeing her be the thing he never had brought hope to flutter about his chest like a young bird.

Neither of them knew, or could recall, their true parents, no memories to guide them now. But they had each other and a dug in desire to keep this child safe.

The most important thing now was secrecy.

Heisenberg knew it couldn’t have just been a miracle of nature. It had to be the work of Mother Miranda, some sick scheme to breed a vessel from her strongest subject.

But fuck all of that.

This was his, his blood, his baby.

And he would do everything in his power not to let her sink her golden claws into it.

~

That night as they got ready for bed together Heisenberg practically scooped Juniper up and took her to the bed. She made little sounds of protest but he was persistent. Now that the immediate threats were sorted out he just craved comfort.

He flopped onto the bed, nuzzling into her. She wiggled into a more comfortable position on him, cupping a hand over his strong jaw.

“What’s all this for?” She smiled.

“You’ve been so worked up recently that you’ve been a prickly bitch to me for weeks…I just want to hold you ok.” He huffed out.

Juniper looked away, the guilt flooding back into her. She blinked away the threatening salt water, her heart clenching. She hugged onto him, “I’m sorry.” She sniffed.

He accepted the hug, nuzzling into her hair and huffing out deeply. “I know…” he murmured.

They lay there for what felt like hours, just enjoying each other’s heartbeat and warmth. Tension seemed to flow from them, the comfort washing away weeks of stress.

“I love you.” Juniper murmured into his chest.

“I love you too, buttercup.” He whispered back, dropping a kiss onto the crown of her head.

Heisenberg was still concerned for her and their situation beyond words, but the heaviness of the world could wait. He lay back, holding Juniper to his chest as he thought. The fact she carried his baby at that very moment still baffled him. Something deep in his heart sparked to life, burning brighter and hotter the more it all settled into reality in his mind.

He squeezed her softly, earning a little mewl.

Fuck…he was going to be a Father.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Killing Cure (Part 21)

So this is another mobile post. Will put it under the cut when I get to my desktop.

He doesn't know how he hadn't noticed promptly; Lady Dimitrescu, though she is still much taller than he, is actually quite small. He wonders if the woman is aware silent in his embarrassment he strikes his forehead with the heel of his hand, stupid stupid Salvatore, of course the lady I knows! She is a smart woman and a change so big…? Small…? Profound, wouldn't go unnoticed. It is somewhat comforting if he were to be honest. Before she was such an intimidating presence to be around. So much so that he sought to avoid her if he could help it.

But the woman who sits before him, shifting in the chair with a look of mild disgust is infinitely more approachable.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

Dimitrescu shakes her head and is hear sinks. He is loathsome, repulsive, repugnant! Of course she doesn't want anything that has been delivered by his grimy hands.

"You got any beer? I haven't had a good beer in a while." Ethan requests. "I could use one."

Salvatore nods eagerly. He hasn't had company in so long, much less company that is willing to let him be hospitable. Only Mother Miranda let's him be hospitable.

He plops a can into the man's hand. He visibly cringes when the slime runs down the side of his his palm. And for a second Salvatore thinks that he will put the drink inside. Instead he wipes the can clean and pops the cap.

"Are you sure that you don't want anything, Lady Dimitrescu?"

"To eat or drink, absolutely."

He thinks that he hears Ethan grumble, "you should eat, those vitamines are only supplements."

"But there is something else that I would like." She carries on as though she hadn't heard the man sitting next to her.

"How can I help?" He has asked the wrong question. He knows that he cannot help. He wonders why she is asking him rather than Donna or even Karl. Surely even Karl is a more desirable option.

"Winters and I are looking for his daughter. I imagine that Mother Miranda has given you a role to play? I am asking you to... reconsider your alliances."

"Betray Mother Miranda?" He squeaks. He could never! He doesn't understand how she could ask such a thing! To betray the only person who has seen his value.

"I-I couldn't possibly, Lady Dimitrescu! Mother Miranda has been good to me."

"By turning you into a gross and gushy fish...man...thing?" He chuckles to himself, "manthing." And then he clears his throat, reverting back to tealitibe seriousness, "I wouldn't call that good."

"I...well it's...nobody, mostly nobody, messes with me anymore."

"That's because you isolated yourself in a swamp." Lady Dimitrescu drums her claws...former claws upon the armrest.

Salvatore slinks back. "Mother Miranda sees my value." Even where he doesn't, she always has.

.oOo.

"She doesn't see your value, Moreau. She sees you vulnerabilities and she uses them." Just as she had used her. And how lovely it had been to believe those lies. "I see your value, Moreau." At least she hopes that she will in time. She thinks that even he can tell that she is telling pretty lies.

"I know how you look at me and my dwelling." He gestures about the place. "You want to use me."

"So then what does it matter? You're being used either way, what difference does it make who's using you?" She scoffs.

Ethan nudges her. "What she means to say is that we would really appreciate your help."

"I meant what I said, Winters!" She snaps.

Ethan inhales deeply, "I would value your help. And I wouldn't use you. You gave me a beer, we're friends now."

"Friends?" Moreau tests the word.

"You ever have a friend before?"

Moreau meekly shakes his head, "none at all, Winters."

"Well now you do and you can start by calling me Ethan."

Now Moreau looks far beyond anxious. The pathetic creature is all jittery and stuttering.

"B-but you won't like me. You'll find me repulsive eventually."

"I already do but friends look past that. I was able to look past Alcina's occasional blood baths. She smells like a corpse when she comes out of those and it's pretty awful."

Alcina clenches her teeth, cheeks coloring ever so slightly. "How dare you--"

"I look past a whole lot of that too." He jabs his thumb at the snarl on her face. "She's pretty cranky all the time but she isn't so bad once you get used to traveling with her."

"Blood and mucus are not the same. At least she's nice to look at."

Ethan smiles a lopsided awkward smile. "Yeah she's a beautiful lady. Her eyes are alluring, her face is charming, she has nice hair and a fantastic…"

"Winters, stay focused!" She demands sharply.

"Ass." He whispers to Moreau.

She shoves him off of the couch, "have some tact or sit yourself down next to Moreau, you loose lipped oaf."

Ethan rubs his own rear. "Well anyways, to show you that I am not repulsed by you I will gladly sit next to you until Alcina wants to be nice to me. She rolls her eyes as one cretin seats himself next to the other.

He does his best to keep the appalled expression off of his face even as the stench of death and fish assaults his nostrils. His eyes are watering and Alcina smirks. She must admit that the man is very good at feigning acceptance.

For a heartbeat she wonders if he is only pretending to accept her, wonders if he will stab her in the back as soon as he has his Rose back. She bites the inside of her cheek.

"So what do you say Moreau? Trade a heartless cultist for a real companion?"

"I'll consider." He twiddles his thumbs.

But she knows him, she knows that he won't want to venture beyond his comfort zone. And his comfort zone wears a bird mask.

"If you can stay the night, I will have the answer by morning."

.oOo.

It was exactly what he was hoping to avoid; staying here with the putridly smelling miasma of sea and decay. And on a makeshift hammock that is damp and slicked with what could either be mold or algae.

He doesn't want to rest which it is. He is rather content in his blissful ignorance. He can't deny that he is quite pissed that Alcina has taken the dry cot. He can't even get to sleep in a perfectly hammock and has no idea how Moreau can possibly sleep in what looks to be a large and repurposed fishing net.

He groans and makes his first attempt to scramble onto the hammock. By the fourth, he is ready to sleep on the floor.

He pretends not to hear her when Alcina slips into the room. A feat made harder by the very obvious cracking of the floorboards.

“Winters…” She looks off for a moment. “I’d like you to spend the night with me again.”

With only a sentence, his anger dissipates, "shit,I thought you'd never ask."

"After your," she coughs, "crass commentary, I wasn't going to. But I changed my mind."

"What made you do that?"

"This place is damp and chilly. You are warm."

It sounds like an excuse to him but he isn't one to question a mercy no matter how small.

This cot is even smaller than the one at House Bennivento. Ethan is certain that Alcina is plenty aware of this. She climbs onto it anyhow and gestures for him to join her.

"Shouldn't I get in first?"

She shakes her head, "lay down before I change my mind."

He crawls atop her and tries to make himself comfortable. It isn't particularly hard, Alcina is very pleasant and charmingly soft and kindly warm. He hesitates for a moment before resting his head upon her chest.

He feels her fingers weaving through his hair. "Comfortable?"

"Very." He confirms. He thinks that he is more comfy here than he would be in a bed of his own.

She sighs. The exhale is followed by a brief duration of silence. At last she fills it, “it has been a very long time since I’ve been in pleasant company. And longer still since that company has been a man.”

"We're there any women?" The question comes forward before he can curb it.

"Several of them have warmed my bed. Good girls, they were." She muses.

"What happened to them?"

"Well I used them for my wine, of course."

Ethan cringes and she chuckles as though she has only told a simple little joke. "I was thinking of doing the same to you but your blood was so stale." She continues to stroke his hair.

"Well that's reassuring." He grumbles.

"I suppose that it doesn't matter anymore."

This time it is he who is responsible for the silence. He as he tries to make sense of a woman who doesn't seem to, by her very nature, make any sense at all.

"Why?" He finally musters.

"Why what?"

"Why am I sharing a bed with you again?"

She furrows her brows as though he is the confusing one. As though it is he who has been sending all sorts of conflicting signals.

"It's just that, one minute I'm a stupid manthing and the next I'm a charming gentlemen." He continues. "Do you like or not?"

"You are indeed a stupid manthing and a gentleman. I wish that you would just pick one, preferably the latter of the two."

And she is dodging the more important question. "And if I decided to pick 'stupid manthing' what would you do them."

She makes a sound, perhaps something to indicate both amusement and annoyance at his audacity. "I would…" she trails off. "I suppose that it depends on the extent that your idiocy reaches."

He has to laugh at this, how can he not--it is her quaint prose and relief that she is even considering humoring dumbassery to any extent at all.

"Your antics can be endearing and entertaining sometimes." She confesses. "But they are also terribly annoying."

"So do you like me or not."

With no way to dance around it she falls back into her silence for a very long time before she mumbles, "I'm trying my hardest not to…"

"But you do?"

"I...yes. I think." This mumbling is even softer.

"Care to figure it out for sure?" He asks. Though there any enough room to contact his preferred test, he thinks that something simpler will suffice.

Her hair stroking comes to an abrupt but brief halt. "I suppose that I wouldn't mind."

"Good." He props himself up just enough to kiss the woman's forehead and then her lips, a gentle testing of the waters before he kisses her neck. And when she doesn't bat him away or shove him off of the bed he lays one on her collarbone and then her chest.

He is met with something between a hum and a purr, her fingers tap upon his back. "How was that?"

"It was well enough, Ethan." She replies. "Perhaps we can double check when we find more comfortable lodgings."

[pepperpills]

The Harvest - RE8 Fanfic

The Harvest

A Resident Evil 8 fan fiction by Joana

Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader

Notes: heey guys, thanks everyone who has been reading this series, it was fun writting this story, but as i said a couple of chapters ago, it has come to an end. I am currently writting a new Heis x Reader story, focusing more on wordbuilding and their relationship. I guess The Harvest, as my first try on this, has been a great experience and I hope the next one turns out better. That being said, please enjoy this piece and I will see you all later on a new begginning, thanks!

Warning: NSFW content

Part I - Destiny (1) Part I - Destiny (2) Part II - The Lord Part III - The Hunt Part IV - Soft Torture Part V - Cry Baby

Part VI - The Encounter

It wasn’t a particular sunny day, but the weather was cooler than usual. It was enough for Karl to decide to work outside, once the heat inside the factory was overwhelming his sweaty body. He was shirtless, but still had his hat and spectacles on to protect him from the sun and the light.

Heisenberg was in the middle of something. Ever since you two inaugurated the new wing, he has been working to the bone on a new project. You understood he was trying a new set of armour to make the Soldats tougher. Unfortunately, for you, this was a task you couldn’t help him with. It was still on project, but he was already trying to find the material and that was why he had been searching the factory’s yard all morning, coming and going, absolutely focused.

You were getting bored, though. Once you couldn’t adventure the factory by your own anymore – neither wanted to, having in mind what happened last time –, you chose to sunbath at the yard in the early hours. It was still kind of chilly, because no matter what, the Village was always like that, and you obviously didn’t have any bikinis, once you really didn’t need a set living where you lived. In that manner, you bathed in your panties, wearing no bra.

You gave Karl a major distraction, because of this. First, he was jealous of your boobs exposed like that, but you managed to convince him no one could see you, once the factory was only accessible by the bridge and it was a considerable walk from the allowed parts of the Village. He chilled, but something in his pants was feeling encaged.

Not long after, you got bored. Then an idea crossed your mind causing you to smile. You quickly went to the bedroom to change, grab a few things and then went to the kitchen. Karl had been so long under the sun that he might as well be thirsty. Considering that, you prepared a juice with lots of ice, leaving the building to meet him outside caring a glass of it.

“Hey, Karl.” You called him, his body half inside one of the tanks. “What about a quick break?” You offered, rising the glass once he looked at you.

His countenance showed interest. His mouth was indeed dry, almost causing him chapped lips. Heisenberg walked towards you, the scene glowing in your eyes. The man’s chest was shiny with the sweat. Without his shirt, you had a great view of his body, enjoying the sight of his strong arms. Karl was a Renascence painting for you and the thought of it made you smile, which only invited him nearer.

“Thank you, buttercup.” He said, taking the glass you offered him.

He drank it almost entirely at once, causing some drops to roll down his bearded chin. When he was done, you came closer, resting your hands on his shoulders, not being able to resist a stupid idea that came through your mind. Heisenberg was a bit confused, but accepted your approach, placing his free hand on your hips. Instead of kissing him, you licked his chin, retracing the juice line. He wasn’t expecting it. You finished with a kiss, looking for his tongue, willing to make yours dance with his inside your mouths.

“You’re full of tricks, aren’t you?” Karl laughed when you let his lips go.

“Just some.” You shrugged, smirking back at him. “But I will let you work for now, I know you’re busy.” Now he had a sorrow expression, your kiss had awakened something in him, but you were right, he needed to find at least one metal piece to try on the model.

“It is okay, I will meet you later.” You comforted him, playing with ones of his rebel hair locks.

“I will make it up to you, Y/N.” Karl promised, pressing you harder against his chest, not wanting to let you go.

“No need to, just be there.” You planted a soft kiss on his lips to which he couldn’t help but smile.

“Ok, I will be, kitten.” Heisenberg kissed you once more, eager to taste you, he was intense.

After a couple more kisses, you managed to soften his grip around your hips and he decided that if he could finish the work earlier, it meant more time with you. With that in mind, he returned to the tank. You excused yourself, telling him you were going out to hunt to try the improvements you made on your bow.

You started walking towards the forest behind the factory. As soon as you reached the firsts trees, you noticed a change in the lighting. Clouds were now hiding the sun, bringing in new winds. You puffed, your plans of a cooler hunt probably spoiled because of this change of weather. Neither way, you were already there.

You took your usual path, going down to the stream. Not long after you noticed the absence of Lycans in the surroundings. You use to listen to their roars and sometimes even footsteps, but this time the only sound heard was the birds chanting. An odd atmosphere took over the forest, making you a bit tense.

Maybe they were occupied somewhere else, you thought that they could be on a hunt of their own, chasing a poor villager. This didn’t relax you, though. You kept looking around, searching for Lycans and other animals.

This happened half way to the stream, so fast you weren’t able to process the entire thing. You got distracted with a noise coming from your right, you looked over a fallen trunk, but saw nothing but a mild movement on a bush. It could be the wind, but you wouldn’t take your chances on a silly thought.

The aura was so tense you were about to make up your mind on coming back to the factory, leaving the hunt for another day, scared again of the creatures of the forest. You didn’t have time to decide, though. On your left, a wet thud caused you to jump. Your attention rapidly turned to the source of it.

A body had just fallen from one of the tree’s highest branches. For all you knew, that was a Moroaica, judging by its clothes and grey skin. This wasn’t the work of a Lycan. They would only eat other creatures when they didn’t have a different flesh and, before opting for this alternative, they would feast on the Village’s cattle. This must be something difference.

Only to confirm your suspicions, the culprit land in front of you. It came out of nowhere. Well, from one of the branches above your body. You instinctively screamed, not even noticing it, even though it was pretty loud. This thing wasn’t like anything you have ever seen in your life, but it resembled a lost tale from the cabins.

The story was about a pale creature, one that inhabits the dark, but would go out of its hiding places to hunt when starving. It was described to have sharp fangs for teeth and a blood thirst. On the folk’s tale, the thing wouldn’t have much reason, it would only know two things: the hunger and the instinct of reproduction.

However, this one, standing in front of you, had a human malice written in its red injected eyes, a beauty in its traces. It smirked at your thunderstruck face, feasting on your fear before feasting on your blood. The creature, which resembled a woman, approached your form elegantly, not rushing, having everything under its control.

She extended a hand full of sharp claws to your cheekbone, putting away a hair lock. She dug one claw into your skin, causing the red liquid to flow. Then she licked the blood from her nail, moaning to your sweet taste.

“You are too pretty to spoil.” She made up her mind, giving you a Cheshire cat smile.

The next movement was a blur to your human perception. You believe the thing attacked you, because you remember feeling your back meeting the soil with a thud. She was on top of you, pressing fangs on your neck. You passed out, regaining a faint consciousness some time later when you were being cared on someone’s shoulder when, before passing out again, your sensitive nostrils perceived a scent of oil.

-x-

Karl was worried out of his mind when he found you. He thought he heard your scream, but it was really the Lycan’s roars responding to it that enlightened the situation to him. He had just found the perfect metal piece when it happened, leaving the factory in a rush, panting already, only thinking of bringing his hammer that flew to his hand as he passed through the grid.

He used the Lycan’s flair to find you. No sign of whatever made that to you, it was only your body lying cold on the dead grass. He almost panicked, imagining you were forever lost. The relief the man felt to feel a weak blow of air on his hand when he placed it close to your nose was indescribable.

Heisenberg didn’t think twice before putting you over his shoulder, his hammer being held by his other hand, and take you back to the factory, cursing himself he let your go earlier, thinking he should have joined you or, at least, sent an escort of dogs with you.

You didn’t wake up for a long time. He laid you on his bed, watching as your chest went up and down with your breathing, this being the only thing that calmed his nerves down a little. But not so much later, he had to leave for a while, afraid he would throw everything metallic on the room.

He put on a real tantrum on a room nearby, not knowing the noises came to you on dreams as much as his enraged screams. Karl almost lost it there, turning himself into a beast on the sight of you hurt. Managing to stop only so he could really analyse your situation.

It was bad, but how bad he wasn’t sure. After being somewhat calmer, Karl quickly noticed the marks on your neck. He wasn’t a moron, specially when being “raised” with Alcina, he knew it was a bloodsucker’s doing. However, Lady Dimitrescu would never do such a messy job and it was even less probable that she would adventure herself on his area. No, it had to be a foreign.

Heisenberg would gladly chase this beast, swearing to tear it apart with his own teeth if it pleased him, but he couldn’t just leave you on your own. He sat on a chair beside the bed, holding your hand on his, focusing on the warmth on your skin. He stood like that for ours, after cleaning your wounds, on the verge of tears. At some point, he rested his head on your shoulder, near your soon-to-be new scar.

“C’mon, buttercup, wake up.” Karl whispered in your ear.

His hot breath was gently calling you out of a paralysis state. Your eyes started to open, your lips unglued, but a fever was commanding your body, making you feel restless. Heisenberg noticed your minor movements, his heart beat accelerating at the sight of your awakening.

“Fuck, Y/N!” He cursed, but a smiled formed on his lips. “Fuck, doll, what a scare you gave me!” Karl held your hand tighter.

“Karl…” You started. “I don’t feel so well.” You told him, seeing that perfect smile faint.

“I know.” He agreed. “I guess I know what it is.” An unpleasant expression formed on his brow. “Wait here.”

Karl didn’t wait until you responded, knowing you wouldn’t let him leave the room, but he had to test something and he really believed it would make you feel better. For fucks sake! It was the only way to make you cure. He went down the factory, to a part of it you didn’t yet know, but was going to get used to soon enough. He grabbed a bag of liquid and left, heading to the kitchen.

He poured the liquid in a glass and came back to you. You were now sat, trembling like crazy, wrapped by the blanket, but even that wasn’t enough to stop the cold. Seeing this, he didn’t mind sitting down on the chair again, extending the glass to you.

“Here, drink it.” He told you.

“What is it?” You asked, but the strong scent didn’t leave any doubts, you were just playing dumb.

“I guess you know what it is, Y/N.” Karl raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you hungry?” In response your stomach rumbled, making the man smirk.

“I-I can’t.” You sounded disgusted.

“You have to, kitten. It will make you feel better.” He took your hand on his, passing you the glass and guiding it to your lips.

You opened up just a little, resisting your new instincts, but as soon as the smell got more intense being that close to your nostrils, you gave up and drank it voraciously. The iron flavour making you salivate as the liquid calmed you down, stopping the trembling, washing away your fever, more potent than any medicine. When you emptied the glass, you proceeded to lick every last drop of blood reminiscent.

“That is a wild kitten.” Karl mocked, relieved at your reaction.

“Karl, what happened to me?” You wondered, not sure if he could answer.

Before telling you, he got into bed, taking off the blanket that was hiding your form. His fingers reached your marks, the sore region aching with the contact, causing him to retreat his digits. He sighed.

“You are not human anymore, Y/N.” Heisenberg told you, heavily.

“What?” You voice was a lot lower than your expected. You looked down to your lap.

“You encountered a thing back in the forest, right?” You only nodded. “Well, that thing bit you and… Well, transformed you.” He clarified.

“I feel… Better.” You moved your hands, stretching the fingers. “I mean, it hurts, but somehow I am more disposed.”

“You know…” Karl started, setting himself against the headboard, pulling you to rest in between his legs, your head resting on his chest as he played with your hair. “It isn’t ideal, but at least, now we can be together for a long time.” He kissed the top of your head and glanced down at you, care written all over his grey abysms.

“Forever?” You softly asked.

“Forever, kitten, forever.” Karl answered.

THE END.