#Re Village fanfic

[ranchracoon]

Dirty Little Secret

Bela Dimitrescu x G!P Reader

Requested by: StrangerJump

*NSFW*

*blow job, smut*

Bela Dimitrescu: Oldest daughter of the renown Lady Dimitrescu, heiress to a fortune, respected and feared by all those below her, if only they knew. It was no secret that the daughters played around with the staff, it was a certain death sentence especially with Bela or Cassandra, they always killed their lovers shortly after. You on the other hand, you peaked Bela's curiosity when she saw you barking orders around to some incompetent maids caught slacking. You weren't well liked because you were a stickler for following orders, she assumed you simply didn't want to die. She ordered you to her chambers one night, allowed you to see her in all her naked splendor. She didn't want to kill you, but she couldn't have the staff knowing her secret; she loved to be submissive. All day she's in charge, ordering around maidens, keeping her sisters in line, and making sure the castle stays afloat. When she wants pleasure, she wants all the focus on her, to have someone else take charge and tell her what to do. 

She pulled you into her bedroom, locking the door and sealing your fate as she unbuttoned your blouse. You didn't want to though, it confused her, why wouldn't someone want to be with her? Is she not pretty enough? Maybe you're too scared. No you have a little secret of your own. Bela pinned you on the wall, when she felt it, the harden poke through your pants. You broke out into a nervous sweat, surely she would kill you for finding out, but instead she now has leverage on you as well. 

"Please don't tell anyone" you begged. 

"I won't, on one condition: you become my pet. Service me whenever I want, wherever I want, and if you tell anyone about our relationship I'll cut it off" she threatened. 

From there it flowered, you got bolder when you found out that big, bad, Bela likes to be handled like a fuck toy. You start making demands during your playtime and she loves every second of it, panting, and begging under your touch. What you didn't plan on is how insatiable she is, or how bratty. It starts with her groping you under the table during breakfast, rubbing you through your pants and making you sweat. What if her mother saw? She knows about your relationship with her eldest daughter, but she doesn't want to see it. Then Bela leaves you and you have to find a way to work with a semi hard erection until it passes. As soon as it does she's on you again, pushing you against the nearest wall, pressing her whole body into you. Her nails on your neck as she kisses you and leaves her lipstick staining the collar of your shirt. She won't get away that easily. 

You take you by her hips and pull her into a nearby room, it's storage with a few miscellaneous chairs, a table, and some furniture covered in sheets. This'll do. She giggles softly as you hold her tightly, innocently looking at you. 

"What's the matter? Something bothering you?" She asks innocently. 

"Nothing my love, I just need to relieve some pent up energy. You wouldn't mind would you?" You say coyly. 

"Hmmm what if I say yes I do mind?"

"Then I guess I'll have to find someone else."

Bela growls loudly and pulls you by the neck to her lips, kissing you possessively. She knows you wouldn't dare stray, but the threat still riles her up as you lock your arms around her waist and pull her into you. As much as you would love to stand there and make out with her, you have chores to get done, and a deadline. You break the kiss and as you pull away she bites on your lower lip gently pulling it until she releases. She knows every trick to turning you on. Her hand finds it way between your legs, rubbing your crotch firmly as she uses her fingers to feel you through the fabric. 

"Mm someone's excited."

"Yes, and you're going to fix it."

You release her waist and push her down by the shoulders, she knows she could easily swarm away but she loves the way you push and pull her around. The motion makes her nipples hard through her dress as she bites her lip looking up. You undo your buckle and pull down your pants and underwear enough for your semi hard cock to spring free, she starts to purr lowly as her eyes drift back down to it. Yet she doesn't open her mouth, instead she keeps her bottom lip between her teeth so you grab her by the jaw and squeeze until she gasps, opening her mouth for you to slide on in. She wraps her plump lips around your cock, looking up at you as her teeth gently grind down onto the skin, a threatening message that she could easily bite down if she wished. She won't, you know she won't, and she knows she won't, but she still loves the tension that forms in your body every time. You release her jaw and lean back using your hands for support as she adjusts herself on her knees.

She takes your cock down her throat, sucking it as it hardens in her mouth and she releases up to the tip, licking your slit which sends shivers over your legs. Bela bobs her head and rests her hands on her thighs, letting her mouth fully consume you and do all the hard work. You tilt your head back and groan softly, loving the way her tongue adds pressure. She loves feeling your veins pop, how your cock pulsates and warms her mouth from the rushing blood. Drool forms in the corner of her mouth and dribbles down her chin as she deep throats you, gagging slightly which makes you grunt. Then her bratty attitude comes out again. She released her cock and starts licking it chastely, licking from the base to the tip and teasingly kissing your throbbing tip. You look down at her and lean forward, grabbing her hair forcibly and shoving your cock back into her mouth. 

She gags from the intrusion but relaxes her mouth and her throat as you begin thrusting your hips. Your cock reaches down her throat, making her choker impossibly tighter as a bulge in her throat forms where your cock is. She moans and supports herself on your thighs, as you continue to fuck her throat she obediently kneels there and takes it. You groan loudly as your cock pulsates and you shove it in one last time, cumming hard as she swallows every last bit. When you pull out saliva dribbles from her mouth and a string connects her mouth with the tip of you cock, which she licks the last remnants of cum off. You pull her up by her hair and release it, grabbing her waist once more and spinning her around, pushing her over onto a nearby covered table. You pull her dress up and find her soaking panties awaiting you, impatiently you pull them down to her knees letting her dripping cunt shiver from the cold air. 

With a firm slap against her ass cheek she moans and jerks forward, you bring down your hand a few more times until her ass is bright red. Bela shakes her hips, her swollen cunt begging for you as it glistens with her slick. You line yourself up and thrust in easily, she moans hotly and rests her forehead against the table but you quickly grab her hair again and pull back. She squeals excitedly and arches her back up as you firmly hold her hair  then begin thrusting. You thrust inside her deeply and hard, your hips slapping against her ass and adding to the redness. With every lewd smack of your hips Bela lets out a broken moan, gasping in between. Your cock reaches inside her deeply, hitting her gspot every time and she loves the way her walls stretch around you. You are relentless, picking up speed but continuing your hard thrusts. You're addicted to being inside her, she feels so good wrapped around your cock, and the way her body gives into you as if she was born for it. 

Bela's walls start tightening around you, her legs tense up and she barely can get out a coherent word before she gasps loudly. One of her hands shoots back to you, grabbing onto your shirt as her entire body pulsates and shivers. The clenching of her walls around you sends you over the edge as you thrust in one last time to cum inside her. You let go of her hair and support yourself by grabbing her hips, your legs shaking as you pump a few times to make sure every last drop makes it. Bela gasps and slowly relaxes, her muscles disengaging as she quivers from the lingering sensations. As you pull out she lets out another moan, and you bring her underwear up from her knees and put it back on her before giving her ass another light tap.

Master Post

[thefanficmonster]

Resident Evil Masterlist

* - Fluff

⨀ - Angst

Full-length Fics:

The Queen and her Guardian (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) *

Just a Legend (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) ⨀*

Snowman (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) *

Nothing to worry about (Ethan Winters & Reader) ⨀*

Weakness (Karl Heisenberg & Child!Reader) ⨀*

Dark Magic (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) *

Bloody Jealousy (Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader) *

Enough Said (Rose Winters & OC) *

Beyond Death (Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader) ⨀

Vulnerability (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) ⨀*

There you are (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) *⨀

Finally, you're back (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) ⨀*

Mission (Ethan Winters & OC) *

Sounds Promising (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) ⨀*

Stargazing (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) *

Beneath the surface (Chris Redfield x OC) ⨀*

Partner (Ethan Winters x Reader) ⨀*

Deal (Jill Valentine x OC) *

Not a Weapon (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) ⨀*

Best thing (he lost) (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) ⨀

Worthy (Chris Redfield x OC) *

What happens in the gym...(Chris Redfield x OC) ⨀*

Vendetta (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) *

Regretting (Chris Redfield x OC) *

Innocent Life (Ethan Winters & Child!Reader) ⨀

Soldier First (Chris Redfield x Reader) ⨀

Heroism (Ethan Winters & Reader) ⨀

No Mistake (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) *

New Life (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) *

Fated (Karl Heisenberg x Reader) *

Headcanons:

Karl Heisenberg x reader who suffers from nightmares ⨀*

Karl Heisenberg x multilingual reader *

Karl's love language - annoyance *

Protective Karl Heisenberg ⨀*

Touch starved Karl Heisenberg *

Opposites attract (Karl Heisenberg x reader) *

Karl x Child-free reader *

Karl x *ahem* well-endowed reader *

Tipsy Romance (Karl Heisenberg x reader) *

Karl with an emotionless s/o *

Karl Heisenberg romantic headcanons *

For Margaret ⨀

Karl x injured s/o ⨀*

Karl x shy s/o *

Karl has a nightmare ⨀

Comforting Karl Heisenberg ⨀

Seeing his mutation for the first time ⨀*

Finding out the truth about Heisenberg ⨀*

Being Karl's adopted child *⨀

Insecurities (Karl x reader) ⨀*

The loss of a loved one (Karl x reader) ⨀

Ethan Winters x pregnant reader ⨀

Arguing with Heisenberg ⨀

Jealous Heisenberg ⨀*

Heisenberg with an introverted s/o *

The love story of life and death (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) ⨀*

The Lords as parents *

Mythical (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) ⨀*

Life Hardships (Heisenberg x reader) ⨀*

Darkness (Mia Winters x Ethan Winters) ⨀*

Heisenberg's Family ⨀*

Heisenberg with a pregnant s/o *

Wine Woes (Heisenberg x reader) *

Single dad Heisenberg *

Mithanberg Headcanons *

Chris Redfield x injured s/o ⨀*

Heisenberg comforting his s/o ⨀*

Heisenberg with a jumpy s/o *

Heisenberg with a smoker s/o *

Single dad Heisenberg with a newborn *

Chris Redfield with plus-size s/o *

Heisenberg x non-binary reader *

Lady D with an s/o that is close with her daughters *

Enemies to lovers with Heisenberg *

Fluffy headcanons for Donna *

Ethan Winters x injured s/o ⨀

[naturesapphic]

Mommy alcina dealing with a clingy little reader because the reader had a really bad dream about alcina leaving them

Headcannon: you have a bad nightmare about alcina leaving you and you become clingy to her

Mommy!lady dimitrescu x fem!little!reader

Warnings: bad dreams, soft!alcina

- Last night you had a awful dream where alcina said she didn’t love nor want you anymore and left you.

- When you woke up you were devastated.

- What made things worse was alcina was out of town for a couple of days and when she came back that following morning. You were clinging to her like a leech on flesh.

- Alcina was worried and she got even more worried when this continued on day after day.

- Alcina didn’t want to upset you further by asking you to talk about it but she knew if she didn’t that this would eat you alive.

- When she asked what was the matter and why her little baby was so clingy to her. The dams fell

- You started sobbing and clinging onto her even more if that was even possible

- She felt so bad for asking. She doesn’t like seeing you cry

- After a few moments of her letting you cry it out and calm down, you started telling her about your horrid dream

- When you were done telling her and how it affected you. Her heart broke

- She reassured you that it was only a dream and something like that would never ever happen

- Alcina picked you up in her arms and carried you to the bedroom

- She then laid you in the bed and went in beside you and put you on top of her so that your head was on her plush chest

- And she said that if you ever have bad dreams like that again to always come to mommy because she will always be there to help you

A/n: I apologize this is so short but I hope the anon and the rest of y’all enjoy! Requests are still open for all of my characters including of course Rhea ripley/Demi Bennett. I have my own buy me a coffee page! You can give me a dollar and it will help. I also have some different commission types I will do so here's my page to look into it :) https://www.buymeacoffee.com/naturesapphic Requests are open for yeehaw!wanda, country!wanda, and any other southern variants of Wanda or Natasha! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y'all!

[thelightningthatjumpsbetween]

GUESS WHO JUST HIT 100K WORDS

HOW EXCITING

that uh, makes 300k total rofl

you got any free time? might I suggest?

Table of Contents: The Lightning that Jumps Between

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Sequel of Winters and the Beast, a Resident Evil: Village Story

Be sure to read the first book, Winters and the Beast, before starting here!

Summary

After coming to terms with two things--one, that he's made of mold, and two, that life goes on--Ethan Winters must work with his new alliance to definitively end Mother Miranda's hundred years of terror.

The key to her undoing, or rather, the many keys to her undoing, are buried deep in the village's remains. Some secrets will require Ethan to do the one thing he never thought he was capable of: bringing back the Lords, and convincing them to work with him.

Meanwhile, Karl works to become more than just "The Fourth Lord", while subconsciously knowing that for his entire life, all the things that seemed too good to be true....go away after awhile.

CHAPTER LIST BELOW THE CUT

Prologue: One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty One

Twenty Two

Twenty Three

Twenty Four

Twenty Five

Twenty Six

Twenty Seven

Twenty Eight

Twenty Nine

Thirty

Thirty One

Thirty Two

Thirty Three

Thirty Four

Thirty Five

Thirty Six

Thirty Seven

Thirty Eight

[stottlemorgan]

Healing Touch

Lady Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader Oneshot (Hurt/Comfort)

Words: 1,355

Warnings: Injuries, blood, drinking blood (Alcina does), not too crazy just RE Village shenanigans

Notes: This fanfic is a request for the lovely @et-is-an-alien - I hope you love it!! It’s my first ever time writing for Lady D and for a request so I’m super nervous! But this was so fun :D (I'm also still learning about formatting my writing on tumblr so lmk any tips bc it's a bit janky!!)

Summary: You get attacked by that imbecile Heisenberg's lycans while out in the village. You make your way back to Castle Dimitrescu, desperately seeking healing from your sweet Lady.

Searing pain stung throughout different points of your body as you ran across the bridge and through the vineyard towards the castle entrance. Your panicked breaths melted into the whistling cold wind and the distant barks of lycans at your back. Slamming your hands and body against the large door, you pushed it open with the last of your strength and entered the hall of the castle. You pulled the door shut, the icy air whipping your hair around your face and it sticking to the blood spread over your features.

             With a desperate huff, you hauled your weakening body through the hallways and into the main hall. You fell onto the last step of the staircase with a cry and finally inspected the damage the lycans had done. Bites of all depths were scattered over your person, the most severe being at the join of your neck and shoulder. Your ribcage had also caught the tail end of the swings of a machete a few times, leaving behind a collection of claw-like cuts and making it hard to breathe deeply.

             You gasped and swallowed as you ripped up some of your shirt and pressed it into your ribcage, “Ah, fuck- fucking dogs. Fucking Heisenberg.” Your words echoed through the main hall and a faint buzzing floated through from the hallway. A cloud of flies flew around your head and over your body before transforming into Daniela at your side. She immediately scanned your injuries and hissed.

“Mother! Mother, come at once!” Daniela shouted, kneeling next to you and taking over pressing into your wounds.

             “Daniela? What is it, daughter?” Alcina’s voice rang from the top landing as her heavy steps made their way towards the staircase.

             “It’s Y/n, come quickly! Something has happened!”

You groaned and lolled your head back in agony as Daniela dipped her fingers into your neck wound and licked the blood from her hand, “Lycans,” she spat. Alcina’s steps grew quicker, and you heard her shriek as your eyes grew fuzzy, “By Mother’s Grace!”

“Alcina, my heart,” You exhaled, feebly grabbing at her ankle as she came around to your front. “Hush, dear, save your energy – Daniela,” she ushered her daughter away from you and you felt her arms wrap around your body, “Bring alcohol, gauze, all of it.” Alcina lifted you to her chest, “Come, my darling, I shall sort you.” She began to march towards the bed chamber. You softly caressed her necklace as she walked, rolling the pearls between your fingers lazily, “Mm, my love,” you hummed, jolting slightly and letting out a cry of pain when Alcina pushed the door to the bedchamber open with one of her knees.

She placed you on the large bed, and you bounced into the mattress with a whine.

“I am sorry, my dear, but time is of the essence – Daniela!” Alcina roared toward the open door and Daniela’s voice echoed through the halls, “Yes, mother!” Daniela ran through the doorway, bundles and bottles piled up and pressed to her chest. “Thank you, my daughter. Now, leave us.” Alcina ordered softly and Daniela nodded,

“Yes, mother.” And left the room, shutting the door behind her.

You watched Alcina pull at your clothes and her face contorted between anger and fear as she pried soaked pieces of clothing from your wounds, “Daniela said this is the work of lycans?” Her golden eyes caught yours for a moment before she conjured her claws and carefully cut your trousers and shirt from your body piece by piece, leaving you mostly bare. You nodded, “Yes, Heisenberg’s lot. They’re still—” You took in a long, strangled breath as Alcina wiped an alcohol-soaked cloth across the cuts on your ribcage, “wreaking havoc in the village, killing- killing and eating villagers and livestock. Ah! Alcina—” You groaned and writhed.

 “You need to stay still, my darling,” she held you with one hand and cleaned your wounds with the other, “That bastard, Heisenberg. I will strip him of his skin and feed him to his own dogs.” She snarled. After dressing your ribcage and cleaning the sporadic surface-level bites around your limbs, Alcina leaned in closely to inspect the group of bites between your shoulder and neck, “Nasty work, indeed.” Her nose scrunched up in distaste for the lycans, “Just like their father.”

“Alcina,” You rolled your eyes and gripped her thigh, “for the love of—”

“Yes, yes, I’ll hush.”

She dragged two of her fingers through the wounds, eliciting a pained mewl from your throat, and brought them to her mouth to lick, “Turning stale and unsurprisingly filthy,” she smacked her lips, examining the flavour, “I need to remove the dirty blood. Up,” She brought her hands to your sides and sat you up, leaning you forward against her chest and shoulder. You grunted as her warm mouth enveloped a section of the bites, “Fuck, fuck.” You hissed, her warm saliva mixing into your blood and stinging. Her teeth burrowed into your muscle slightly and she began suckling at your wounds. Pained huffs and gasps escaped you, and you grabbed handfuls of her dress at her waist as the dull and familiar ache of her feeding streamed through your shoulder and down your arm.

After a few seconds, Alcina broke away from your neck with puffed cheeks full of blood, and she leaned away towards the bedside table. You rested your head into the crook of her neck, listening to the dragging of a metal bowl and her spitting multiple times into it before putting the bowl back down and turning back to you.

“How absolutely putrid, very unlike your usual delicious bouquet.” She purred and you let out a drowsy chuckle. Alcina gently pushed your head back and returned her mouth to your throat. A soft moan crept through you and you felt your breaths shortening as she cradled you in her arms. Alcina chuckled, the sound vibrating against your muscles before she pulled away and spat into the bowl again. She faced you, golden eyes shining in the dim light of the hearth and licking her lips, “You’re still feeling well enough for pleasure, it seems.” Her mouth, wet with your blood, curved into a smirk.

“Always well enough for pleasure with you, my heart,” your voice turned to a whisper as the edges of your vision became darker and your grip on her waist weakened. 

“Sadly, it will have to wait - your blood is clean but you are in dire need of rest.” She wrapped your numbing shoulder and neck in bandages before cupping your face with one hand and holding your waist with the other, sighing quietly with relief. A sleepy smile danced along your lips as you brought your hand to her cheek and stroked over her lips with your thumb,

“Having my own personal nurse is nice, especially one so delicious,” you said hoarsely and Alcina raised her eyebrows with a chortle, 

“Don’t make it a habit, dear,” she brought you closer, tapping her nose against yours, “Although, you would make an exquisite cabernet.” Alcina pressed her lips to yours with a hum. You laughed into the kiss, a sting of pain surging through your chest as you breathed in deeply, turning the laugh into a shuddering moan and briefly darkening your vision. Alcina pulled back, looking into your eyes, “My love?” She whispered.

“Ah–” You gasped, “It’s my ribs, it’s okay, ah, I’m okay,” You winced as she gently laid you back in the bed and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. Alcina rose from the bed and wiped her mouth with a cloth, throwing it into the blood-filled bowl on the bedside table before making her way around the bed. She laid back on the plush pillows and gently pulled you into her arms, resting your head against her chest.

“Sleep, my dear. And when you wake I will have Bela bring Heisenberg’s head on a platter.” Her long fingers stroked your side, avoiding your injuries as they went.

“Mhm,” You hummed in agreement, dropping into a sweet slumber to the rhythms of Alcina’s body below you.

[duvernost]

just a little nibble….. @donnasmeatballs

[thewritersaddictions]

Request- (RE8) Karl Heisenberg: Needy Little Girl

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x Fem!Reader

Pov: Reader

Summary: Hiding your crush on your English teacher seems to fail when he makes you stay after class.

Warnings: Smut, Consensual, needy behavior, sluty behavior, BJs, PinV, a little cursing. Fluffy smut, fluff.

A/N: This is for anon; I know you sent this request a while ago. I promise it was worth the wait. Thank you for the request; remember, the inbox is always open!

WC: 1.9k

Requests Master List // Resident Evil Master List // House Heisenberg Master List

You wish you could start the day the way you ended it. The college class fills quickly, but you’re always early. You’re always waiting for him to come stalking through the doorway, smelling cigar smoke and burnt wood. 

Your professor is a massive hunk of man. Large arms that make the white collared shirts he wears bulge and give way with every movement he makes. Long legs that are framed in jeans, hugging his ass and showing off everything else in the process. 

That booming voice has you squeezing your thighs together, but the reality is you leave that class every single day with a ruined pair of panties, and when you get back to your dorm, there are only thoughts of him when you slip your hand down the front of your tight jeans. 

You should focus on the lecture, but you can’t get your mind or your eyes to focus on the computer screen before you. All you see is your professor pacing back and forth in front of the chalkboard. The loud booming voice that soothes you into a sweet lul mutters about something to do with your new essay project. “Please remember that we may make fun of Shakespeare and his many stories, but they all have a great deal of meaning and foreshadowing. I want you to write something that…” His words stop momentarily, and his eyes gaze over the lecture hall. Your ankles are crossed, and you sit a little higher when his graze hits you. Feeling hot all over, you don’t back down, “Write something that can grasp the reader’s attention in just that way. Write the trauma that is the indecision.” He finally finishes, drops his gaze from me, and returns his attention to the chalkboard. 

You wonder momentarily if anyone else feels the heat and tension you always feel when he’s looking at you. Eventually, you have to return your attention to your blank Google Doc. The bright screen hurts your eyes, and nothing comes into your brain except explicit thoughts of your professor—your much older, hotter professor. 

An hour later, when the class has come to an end, every single other person has picked their shit up and packed it away into their bags. You’re stuck writing because you eventually did get the words to form in your head. A cough draws you from your thoughts and the screen before you. When you look up, he’s standing there staring at you. 

“Miss, L/n? Class is over.” He says. You nod and start to pack your things. Closing your laptop, but yet again, you’re met with his eyes staring into you. Making your skin burn, “Miss, L/n, I need to talk with you.” Your professor says, even though you’re so close to the damn door you have to turn around and go right back to the man that makes your legs wobble, and your heart beat faster. “Yes Professor Heisenberg.” You say as you hold the remaining books tightly against your chest. “I need to talk to you about something private, and this lecture hall needs to be used in the next ten minutes, so follow me to my private office so we can talk there.” You nod, and wait for your professor to grab his own bag and laptop. You follow next to him, the sound of sneakers squeaks, and little kittens heels fill the air in the hallway. Walking with him has your cheeks warm, and knowing that you’re going to be in his private office. 

Alone. 

Alone with a hot, older professor that has you ruining panties, and squeezing your thighs so tightly that you hope the dull ache goes away. Your professor stops making you bump into him. If your fantasy didn’t already have you thinking he was a strong, beefy man then bumping into him surely made all your fantasy come true. The key jingles against the lock letting you in first. You sit down, and wait until you see Professor Heisenberg move around the desk and sit in the chair on the other side. 

The air is thick and unspoken tension, so you’re the one to break it. “Um… sir, why did we need to talk?” You ask your books now resting on your lap, your legs crossed, and you back pressed up against the back of the chair. “I wanted to talk to you about… um” his words die in his throat and for the first time your professor seems completely amiss. A loss for words is something you’ve never seen on the man before. 

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask worry etching into your soft features. “No you haven’t. God no, I just.. you..” He’s a mumbling mess in front of you. “Professor, maybe I should come back some other time.” That’s what you say, not that that is what you’re thinking. 

Being in his lecture hall is enough, watching him pace is enough, but now you’re here in his private office. The word private keeps blinking in your mind, his private office that smells more of cigars and burnt coffee. Where his degree hangs on the wall and the papers scatter the hardwood top of his desk. He rolls his lips together, and then looks towards you. 

There’s something behind those eyes. Like a cat got his tongue, then all the sudden the words fall from his very kissable mouth. “You Y/n are an absolute distraction for me.” Your brows shot up with a little bit of hurt mixed in, “Oh no not like that darlin’ I’m saying that having you in my class makes everything ten times harder to focus on, because all I can see out of the corner of my eye is you. Clenching those thighs together as you try to focus on your screen, but I catch you staring at me all the time. Those beautiful eyes lost in la-la land. What are you thinking about huh?” Your shoulders drop, and embarrassment courses through your body. You’ve been caught, but it seems that your day dreams, and fantasies were not one sided. You place your bag on the floor, and let your books fall as you get up from across the desk. “I’m thinking of you Professor Heisenberg. About what these large hands do to my body. How your touch would feel. I think about you all the damn time. I’m so needy for you.” You mutter the last part. Holding his hands feeling the weight of them in your own much smaller ones. 

You can feel the ruined panites, soaking through your jeans. Heisenberg's eyes glaze over, and something shifts in the room, from tension to desire. He’s quick to meet you halfway around the desk. He stands so much taller than you, then the way he man-handles you to sit on the side of the desk has you wish you could strip off all your pieces of clothing right then and there. 

“”I’m so fucked…” He whispers before taking your lips with his. There’s a fight, but you both know that you’ll be giving yourself over to your professor in a matter of minutes. Your arms wrap around his wide shoulders balancing on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss further. He seems to notice, and takes a second of your precious time together and picks you up plopping you onto the desk. In the same motion his hands are digging into your jeans and yours are trying to get his belt undone. “By the way, buttercup call me Karl, not professor or heisenberg. I wanna hear you moan my name when you cum. His words make you fumble with his belt, but he seems to be able to do two things at once because your jeans are already unbuttoned and his hand is reaching into cup your pussy. 

“Fuckin’ hell wet are the damn river. Is this what you go through every day, hmm such a poor baby.” He teases, but that's all the teasing he does. He’s far to desperate for forplay and your thankful because the next set of words that were gonna come out of your mouth were gonna be ‘if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might explode.’ Karl helps you the rest of the way with your shirt, bra and then he helps himself to ripping himself out of the slacks, and his button up. 

Leaning back you hit a few objects on the way down. “Um… Karl can we move some of this stuff?” You ask your voice shy and timid. “Of course.” With one big sweep of his arm the objects fly to the floor, the name plague landing with a thund, and the stapler clicking to the floor. “Thank you.” He hums, and returns his attention to your body. 

Nipples hard waiting to be played with. Pussy soaked and yearning to be touched, he kisses you first. You can feel the weight of his cockd sitting against your thigh, and when you look down you aren’t surprised to get the feeling that it might not fit. Karl can sense your unease. “Don’t worry buttercup, we’ll make it fit won’t we.” He says as he taps the tip of his cock to your sensitive clit. All your worry fades away as your body heats up like flame in an oven. It’s not until the tip of his cock notches at your entrance do you look back up at him. There’s a devilish smirk written all over his face, and you can’t help but drag him down to meet your lips, wrapping your legs around his hips, and pulling him fully in. 

There’s no waiting, no making sure he fits, or going easy. The pain only fuels the urge for him to almost pull all the way out and push right back in. The lamp that didn’t land on the floor from the desk shakes, and your moans start to fill the small office. He doesn’t even put a hand over your mouth to cover your screams of ecstasy. A large thumbs sitting over your clit, pulling tight circles over it pushing you over the edge, and as you go Karl thrust becomes harder and faster. He’s pushing himself to catch up with you. 

If he was a gentleman he would have prepped you, taken you out to dinner before fucking you like an absolute animal but a part of him thinks that how you like it. Being taken, whisked away and fucked for all to hear. Hell someone could knock or just burst in at any moment. Your tits bounce with every erratic thrust, your nails dragging against the back of his neck. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum again.” You scream and it’s Karls undoing. Tight, wet, warm walls squeeze him tightly, barely letting him leave to thrust back into your warm heat. “Fuck me Karl, just like that!” 

Your chest rises and falls as you both try to catch your breath, sweaty, and sticky from sex. The room smells like it too, but that alright especially when Karl reaches over your body still deep inside you to grab a few tissues to clean you up the best he can. “By the way” You say in a huff. “You can call me Y/n.” You say sarcastically, as if the moment here will ever happen again. “I will darlin’.” He says with a wink.

Completed on: 03/29/24

Posted on: 04/05/24

HH Tags-

[numbyday]

REPOSTING Because maybe this drawing will make more sense now that I've posted my first ever fanfic, Birds of a Feather . HEHEHEHHEHE. (shall I make one for the sisters?)

So yes technically, this is the reader envisioned in the fic, speaking of.. might post a new chap later (if anyone is still reading, that is)

(NSFW, TW: BLOOD, INJURIES, SCARY TALL MOMMIES)

[sutekinyce]

Old Addictions Die Hard, Chapter 39.

I finally finished all the parts I've been making in the comic for a while, womp womp!! Let's all cry because we love some angsty 🥲💔❤️‍🩹

Please do read Old Addictions Die Hard fic by @logjammer9000 I truly and highly recommend!! Literally y'all gonna bawl your eyes out lol! I'm so happy in making this and finished it by heart and soul.

Hope y'all like it! 🥹🫶

[cherryberry-sugarandspice]

Anyone here like resident evil??

Specifically her

Was thinking of making a fanfic of being bred by her. You cross the castle grounds? Fine fine...punishment is by breeding😈 but is it really a punishment 🤔

[vermont-writes-fanfic]

Her Special Maid

Prologue Chapter~

Request:No

Chapter: Prologue

Warning: An unnecessarily indepth description of how to make bread the medieval way, not much else

Characters:Alcina Dimitrescu

A/N:I plan on making this into a series, I’m not to sure how it will go but fuck it, I have it taking place about a full year before anything with Ethan even begins to enter the question though so that’s why there will be little to no mention of him

A/N 2: This is a prologue so bare with it please!

Directory: Prologue (you are here), Chapter 1

You’re life in the village is by no means a hard one, Mother Miranda had blessed the village well and you and your family are devout to her and the four lords she appointed to help sustain the village. As a child, you had often wondered about the large castle that stood strong and resolute beyond the village, even more so about those who lived in it. You had read the tales of princesses and royalty living in buildings like this, however no one would answer you when you asked about it, they would just steer you away from it with weary looks cast towards the grandiose building.

As you grew older, you grew bolder and wandered closer to it, as if testing the castle to tell what secrets it held that kept everyone so on edge. Any time you could, you would sneak away from your duties in the house to venture further and further out, and that was when you met your first Lycan up close and personal. You had fled home unharmed but severely afraid. After that, the castle interested you much less.

It wasn’t until you fell ill with an affliction that no doctor could cure, that you first got a glimpse of what truly took home in the castle. You had been laying in bed running a fever and in and out of a stupor, when the sound of a carriage could be heard passing by. Your mother roused you from bed and forced you to stand beside your father as two carriages passed by. The windows to the carriage were heavily curtained but a pale white hand had reached out from behind them and you swore you saw golden eyes staring right back at you, but your father pressed your head down nearly taking your sick body to the ground.

After this, your curiosity had once again been piqued by the strange castle. If only to keep you from going closer to the castle, your mother told you it was where one of the four lords of the village lived, and that she had a penchant for taking young girls. You assumed this was true for the lost part, the last bit seeming more like something you tell to a child instead of a teen, however you were satisfied with they answer gave. As the years flew and your mother grew weak, you had to focus on taking over the small bakery your family ran. You learned the tricks of the trade out of a large recipe book that had been passed down from generation to generation filled and crammed with different kind of recipes, the alterations made, the exact rations, and everything else anyone aspiring to take of the business would need to know.

One morning,while you are trudging through the snow, you find a small box with a simple lock keeping it closed. Not wanting the snow to damage it or someone else to take it, also being curious yourself as to what is in it, you take it.You continue on your way back to the bakery and set it in your room in a raggedy but clean towel to dry so the wood doesn’t become soggy and damage the inner contents of the box. Now that you’ve set it down it’s clear to you that this is no ordinary jewllery box or otherwise. It’s ornatley decoratated and has a crest you’ve never seen before. Silver pegs at the bottom in each corner of the base stand the box up and pop against the deep dark slightly red of the wood. The wood it;s self is nicely glossed and clearly well cared for, however the dust in places that had not been disturbed by the snow and cloth shows that it’s old. You take a small handkerchief and wipe away the dust before inspecting it further.Silver vines with leaves trail up the lock which is split in two pieces to allow the box to open.Rumaging through a couple of drawers you finally find a old bobby pin your mother used to pin up your hair when you were a child, upon finding you slide it in and jiggle it around finding the right spot until you hear the click. As you open it, the gleam of the candle light reflecting off of what must be a pure silver locket slightly blinds you. It’s heavy in your hand and the locket it’s self is even heavier than the chain. Curiosity gets the better of you once more, and you snap the locket open. Inside is a worn picture of a beautiful woman with perfectly curled black hair, dark lipstick, and a gorgeous white dress, beneath and on either side of her are younger ladies who must be the womans daughters. None of them aside for the girl with the lightly brighter hair had a smile on her face, even then it was barely there. Feeling guilty for taking something with a clear sentimental value, you shut it and replace it in the box as it was, before shutting the box which automatically locks with a click.

You set it in a special drawer of your dresser, and head out tying up your hair to begin baking for the day, after all you were already behind on the bread that needed to be baked and if you didn’t have enough for the day you’de have to make more mid-way through which is no small feat. The day is relatively uneventful as you go about your daily routine, you take the flower you had bought from Mr.Bruner the week before and add water and bear to it along with a little yeast and begin to knead it.After thirty minutes you let it set working on several more large batches before shaping it into loaves of bread. You set out a stone slab over the fire and set several loaves down waiting for them to cook. This process is repeated from the point the sun is peeking up from the horizon, to the time it is placed a quarter of the way in the sky. The smell of fresh if slightly stale bread floods the house as well as the noses of passersby in the village. It isn’t as if you have much competition in such a small village, your family is the only bakery in it after all. With the bread done and baked, your younger brother takes to selling and keeping an eye on the front as you head back into your room to stare at the box. What if you were accused of stealing it from someone in the village? Who do you know would even have money enough to have something like this made? A thought passes your mind and you, for a moment, contemplate it before making the decision to see the merchant everyone had been to, aside from yourself. Running a bakery with a sick mother is stressful enough as it is so you never had time for anything not already planned out.

You have a bit of free time now, and he was on a path you liked to walk when you weren’t so weary of the Castle and haven't had the time to walk until now. You slide on your thicker boots and a cloak before leaving the back door and walking down the dirt path along the tree line. Here, most of the people in the village couldn’t see behind the line of houses and question where you are going. It was better this way, no one in the village has anything even remotely close to this value and the picture would give away that it doesn’t belong to you. A caravan comes into view near the front of the castles at the corner where the two dirt roads meet. As you stop in front of it, the doors swing open and a large man kicks his bare feet out pushing himself into a sitting position.

“Well hello there! I trust you are the baker's daughter, what brings you so close to the castle? Is it me, perchance?” The Duke greets you, though you are easily distracted by the trinkets on either door he had opened as the clink.

“Miss?” He calls out to you again an amused smile on his face as you look at his wares with blatant curiosity and wonder. Hearing this, you snap your eyes up at him and shake yourself out for the distracted daze you were in.

“My apologies, yes I’m here for you. I found this box,” you pause and take the box from its cloth confines, “have you seen anything like it?”

Immediately his interest is piqued and he scoots forward leaning down to gently take it from your hands and inspect it further. His eyes widen and his lips curl into a grin as he sets it back down.

“Oh no, I’ve never seen something like this…but I do know who it belongs to,” When he says this your eyes lift back to him from the box where they once were. He leans back into his seat before rocking forward to peek around the doors of his home, an arm pointing to the castle before the two of you.

“The Lady Dimitrescu, that box most certainly belongs to her.I’ve only seen products from her castle use such ornate silver designs. And the crest, is hers.”

Hearing this, you turn to look at th castle, what you thought was fantastical and large from afar, is imposing and intimidating now as it looms over you. This would be a place wear one of Mother Miranda’s appointed lords would stay. Could you maybe leave it at the doorstep, or give it to him and have it returned to her that way? The thought of entering the large castle had once entertained and excited you but now it fills you with dread. What if she thought you stole it? Your mother had told you that young ladies went missing to the castle many times , and that your best friend was suspected to have been taken there as well.

“Do you plan to give it to her yourself?” The Duke questions, a brow raised, that amused smile never quite leaving his face as he watches you.

“Y-yes, it’s only right it’s returned to her…” Even as you say it, your legs seem to dread the thought of moving closer. The Lord were made to protect the village, surely one wouldn’t harm you…right?

You shake your fear from you, your father had always told you that being a coward even as a woman would lead you nowhere in life. You turn to the Duke and thank him for his help, before walking on shaking legs towards the door of the castle. Underneath the terror and anxiety, your beating heart quickens for another reason, your strides quicken and you bite you lip to hold back the excited smile that twitches at your lips. Even through the fear, you might be able to enter a castle. A real life castle, and one that you had always hoped to enter. Mother had always warned that your childish curiosities would get you hurt, and you pray to Miranda that she is wrong. In no time at all, your eager legs have carried you through the snow to the door of the castle, and you give a timid if excited knock. After a few moments, your apprehension grips you, and you think to leave it at the door. Just as you turn around, the massive doors open and the warmth of the inside beckons you. Against your better judgment, you walk through the large doors which quickly shut behind you.

End note: Let me know what you all think it would be really appreciated

Total Word Count: 1959 words

[reobsessed]

Sickness In His Care

Pairing: Reader X Karl Heisenberg. Content Warning: 18+, Mentions of sex but no actual sex in the story itself, Reader X Karl Heisenberg fic, slight humour. Can't think of any other warnings but please let me know in the comments if I missed anything. Summary: You'd been seeing Karl Heisenberg for a while now and had since started staying in the factory. However, one day you come down with a fever. Expecting him not to care you do your best to avoid him but you find yourself at a loss for words when he tries to take care of you. This is just a short one, inspired by my current illness. Wanted to write about a sick reader being taken care of by Karl =p Hope you enjoy! Might add more one-shots to this series later. Thanks again to Suri for editting and reads!

Your body was racked by coughs and splutters, occasionally drowned out by the sound of heavy machines whirring. You did your best to fall asleep but the oppressive heat of both your fever and the humid factory air wouldn’t allow for that. How Heisenberg worked in this, day in, day out boggled your mind. You had a lot of questions concerning that man.

With no such luck in drifting off, you flung your legs over the side of the makeshift bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself, for modesty’s sake. You made your way to the main elevator and adjusted your underwear while you walked.

Despite their inability to see, you felt intimidated beneath the many dead eyes of the factory. They’d long since had the life and humanity extinguished from them, but much like a porcelain doll, their eyes followed you across the hall.

Unfortunately you weren’t wearing any shoes either. They’d been discarded halfway across a room, (you couldn’t remember which) when he’d accosted you from behind several nights before. He did that sometimes, he’d enter a room irritated, ranting and raving about his ‘life’s work’, Mother Miranda or some other insignificant event. Then as he would throw his coat to the floor he’d come up behind and bury his face in the crook of your neck. It was his silent plea for attention, the only release in his life that didn’t coincide with destructive violence.

Things would get rough sometimes. Tumbling around with shrapnel and a dirty man who never left his basement certainly had its risks; but at the end of it all, nothing ever went outside of your comfort zone. Cruel and ruthless Lord Heisenberg was capable of some decency, if only in that regard.

Memories of the prior night filled you with excitement. You brought your hand to the swollen cluster of love bites mapped across your chest and neck. You’d returned the favour, and left a colourful array dotted across his neck, ensuring they were in full view of any who encountered him. You hoped to God he got called into a family meeting sometime soon. With an impish giggle you clicked the button on the elevator and ascended to the top floor. You hoped he was anywhere but his office, but unfortunately your luck had run out around the same time you’d met him.

As soon as you opened the door you were greeted by his side profile, head in hands, slumped over a diagram on the table. Probably sulking again.

“The fuck are you doing in here? I thought I told you not to bother me while I’m working.” He let out a puff of cigar smoke. Didn’t even have the decency to look at you. Dick.

As per your usual pettiness you ignored him and made a beeline for the door at the back of the room. Suddenly you toppled backwards as a thin chain of metal wrapped itself around your wrist, not intended to hurt you but to stop you from going any further. However, he’d miscalculated and hadn’t noticed your sickly state until after you’d begun to tumble backwards. As you fell to the ground, he steadied you with more offcuts of metal.

“The hell is wrong with you?” he raised his voice, a combination of tiredness and confusion. 

Metal clattered to the floor as he stood up. With a rough grip, he pulled you upright and turned you to face him. He studied you intently, glasses slipping down past his nose. You stared into his eyes, watching as anger dissipated into uncharacteristic worry.

Heisenberg was never good at concealing his emotions, especially not his anger and now this too, apparently.

“I just wanted some fresh air,” you croaked.

Cigar smoke choked your already irritated throat and you began another coughing fit, you tried your best to turn away but his burly arms held you in place. You were shocked that he didn’t seem to mind when you spluttered all over his stained work shirt but then again, you’d covered him in worse things.

“Forgot humans get sick, haven’t been sick in over forty years.”

“Certainly starting to get sick of you.” 

You couldn’t see his eyes behind the blackened glasses, but you knew he was rolling them.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” He grabbed your arm and shook it. “What do you do when one of these gets sick?”

“Well, I was hoping to avoid you turning me into one of your new toys, but I guess that’s up in the air now,” you sniffed, swallowing a large glob of phlegm stuck at the back of your throat.

“That’s fucking disgusting,” he sneered at you, now holding you away from him at arm’s length.

“I can’t help it,” you spat, attempting to pull yourself free. “And besides, have you smelt yourself recently?”

“Wait a minute, I have something for this!” His grip slipped from your wrist and fell into your hand. You let out a nasalled grunt as he dragged you across the room to his desk. After rummaging around with one hand he pulled out a dusted bottle from the bottom drawer. “This should do the trick.”

Your nose wrinkled when you looked at the awaiting bottle. It was covered in a thick layer of grime and much of the writing had worn off the label a long time ago, based on the few remaining letters you assumed this used to be some kind of ‘medicine’. You turned it over to see the date ‘1923’ printed along the bottom.

“Yep. I’ll be better in no time with this.” You swivelled the bottle, watching as black ooze splashed against the sides. He had a triumphant grin on his face and you couldn’t bring yourself to ridicule him further. “Right, well I’m going outside.”

“Dressed like that?”

“What are you, my dad?”

He pulled the blanket around your shoulders and touched a gloved hand to your forehead.

“You’re cold.”

Stifling yet another cough, you laughed softly. 

“How can you tell? You’re wearing gloves, you buffoon.”

He wrapped you in an embrace, only when held in the stillness of his arms did you realise that you’d been shivering this entire time. Had your fever turned to chills? With his arms still around you he pulled you over to his chair and sat you in his lap, presumably so he could keep working.

“So… you not gonna turn me into a Soldat after all?” you laughed nervously.

He brought the cigar to his lips. “Bad materials.”

You slapped his chest playfully and turned to nestle yourself in his arms. Usually after sex you’d push him away, the man radiated far too much heat in the already sweltering factory, but you were currently thankful for the warmth. It must have been awkward trying to work around the mass of your body, but he didn’t complain. As the two of you sat together you came to the realisation that he wasn’t doing any work at all, and that in reality, all he wanted to do was sit with you in his arms while you recovered.

Fuck.

Somewhere along the way the two of you had lost yourselves. What was supposed to have been a one-night stand had spiralled into weekly hookups, and from there it had turned into shared space and something akin to actual concern for one another. You were filled with a sense of dread, but you pushed it down in favour of sinking further into his chest. Before you drifted off, you could have sworn you felt the brush of his lips against your hair. 

A bitter sweetness churned your stomach. You felt a unique longing, beyond anything you’d ever felt for anyone else. Sex and desire had become secondary in favour of a new want; if only you had more time to spend in comfortable silence together.

[blood-red-ocean]

Alcina Dimitrescu X Sick (Fem) Reader

As requested by @alcinaslittlemaid! I hope you feel better soon ♥️

(I wrote this on my phone at volunteering so please excuse any typos/formatting/grammatical errors! I'll fix it at home if I need to.)

Genre: Fluff/Comfort

Category: F/F

Relationships: Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader

Word count: Approx. 1000 words.

Summary: You've come down with one hell of a flu, and you find yourself plodding to Alcina's quarters for comfort. Fluffiness and soft Alcina care ensues.

The Lady's bed dwarfed you as you lay in the centre of it, drowning in blankets and your own misery. When you'd awakened that morning, you felt like you'd been used as a chew toy for a Lycan, every muscle and joint in your body aching. You barely remember waking up in your own bed and miserably trodding out of your room and down the halls, blanket wrapped around you as a cape - what you did remember was your surprise when you entered the Lady's chambers, crawled into her bed, and were met with no strict words or resistance, only with an arm draped over you and a surprisingly soft voice. 

"Oh, draga... You truly aren't faring well, are you?" She had said, her voice breaking through the sickness-induced brain fog and prompting you to nuzzle into her embrace. She chuckled softly and you vaguely mentally registered her brushing some of your hair away from your face, tutting as her fingertips brushed your forehead. "You're positively burning up... We can't have you roaming the Castle in this state, now can we?"

You shook your head and coughed a little, wincing as your lungs protested the action. The Lady had tucked the numerous blankets around you as you hid your face your face in her embrace, her fingertips alternating between running through your hair and running up and down your spine. She hummed thoughtfully, murmuring to herself as you slipped in and out of a light doze. 

"Miranda, maybe...?" She paused. "No, Miranda wouldn't work. Donna, perhaps... Draga mea?" She was speaking to you now, and you didn't lift your head, just made a small sound of acknowledgement. "I need to retrieve something. It's of... Vital importance. Be a brave little thing and stay here, yes?"

If you had been more present, you would have noticed the lilt in her voice, and pieces together that she wasn't going to retrieve something for herself. As it was, you were exhausted and your mind was consumed by brain fog, and you could only whimper as she pulled away from you. She shushed you and caressed your cheek, whispering to you. "Do not fret, Iubita mea. I will return before you realise I've left. Be a good girl and stay here, for me."

And stay there is exactly what you did. The blankets covering you were heavy and soothing, the scent of the Lady's perfume making your senses come alight - or at least as well as they could, with your nose blocked. The crackling from the fire in the corner echoed around the room, gently lulling you back to sleep every time you woke up. Your sense of time was shaky in your sick state, and you weren't sure how long it had been since the Lady left the room. Just as you were thinking maybe you should drag yourself from the blankets and back to your own bed, the door swung open and the familiar sound of her heels on the hardwood floor blessed your ears. The sound came closer and there was a shuffling, followed by the bed dipping beside you. You distantly felt her hands patting the pile of blankets on top of you gingerly, and suddenly you felt them slip under you, pulling you from your little cave. 

"Now, now," she murmured in response to your indignant grumbling. "None of that. Come here, draga." 

She pulled you into her lap, where you curled up into her, your hand gripping the collar of her nightgown to keep her there. You closed your eyes and pressed your face into her, but not before you caught a glimpse of what she had brought in with her. Beside the two of you on the bed was a wooden tray, bearing an assortment of pastries, fruits, some honey and two cups of tea. One of them looked like regular herbal tea, and the other seemed to almost shimmer. You made a confused noise in the back of your throat and looked up at her. 

"That, dragostea mea, is a concoction of Donna's own creation." She lifted the cup to her nose and inhaled deeply. The sight of the teacup in her larger than ordinary hands made you smile weakly. "It is a combination of healing herbs, some roots, and some berries for sweetness. Come, draga." She held the cup to your lips and added, "It will make you feel better. You have my word."

You placed your hand over hers and obediently sipped the steaming liquid, blinking in surprise as the mixture of spices and sweet, tart berries exploded on your tongue. You kept drinking, the Lady rubbing your back and murmuring to you in Romanian as you did so. When the teacup was empty she pulled it away and replaced it with a sweet pastry, which you nibbled on thankfully. True to her word, you started to feel better, your mind clearing along with your sinuses. You realised with renewed clarity where you were and you blushed deeply, attempting to sit up. 

"I-- Thank you for looking after me, my Lady. But I--"

"What did I tell you about calling me that, prințesa mea? You can call me by my name. It's okay." 

"Alcina," Using her name felt powerful, intimate. "I really should be returning to my quarters, I should rest--"

"Nonsense." Alcina held you closer to her, her grip around you tighter. She smiled sweetly at you. "You have a raging fever, ursuleț. No, no, I really do think you need to stay here. You need to be properly taken care of." 

You didn't have it in you to argue, or even think about leaving her arms. You closed your eyes and let yourself slump against her, and you felt yourself drifting off again as she ran her fingers through her hair and rocked you, singing a lullaby in soft Romanian - singing you softly to sleep. 

[ohlookapan]

The Edge of The Knife | Wintersberg

“You know, Winters, you've got guts. I wonder if you'd still look pretty with em’ ripped out and strung along my floor like tinsel.” Pairing: Ethan Winters/Karl Heisenberg (Resident Evil: Village (2021)) Content Warning(s): Knives(?) Tagging: My lovely proofreaders, @thatsthewrongwallcraig & @dandeliongrahamlecter! A/N: Playing around with action/movement over dialogue. Definitely not an excuse to write for these beautiful dumbasses again. Enjoy below the cut!

****

If Heisenberg thought Ethan was pissed before, he was livid now.

And the bastard fucking loved it. 

Those soft, fair, snowy cheeks burning like hot coals; that golden hair all messy and ruffled like a hay bale; those hazel eyes smoldering like embers (he swore they turned red at some point, though maybe he was getting ahead of himself). 

And those lips. God, those thin, soft lips. Karl swore they'd be the death of him–the way they slimmed, pursed, and fired the most incendiary threats at him like a catapult. 

God damn those lips. God damn those eyes. God damn that hair. God damn those cheeks.

God damn Ethan Winters. 

“Give me the flask, Heisenberg. Now.”

Ethan's command wasn't just that, not even a demand. It was a warning. One that Karl was far too bored and smart to heed. 

Like a shark, he circled the father, letting his murky eyes traipse around his figure like a map, the object of his revolution being the most beautiful, bold, blonde X he'd ever seen.

“Now, now, Winters,” Heisenberg purred, tone loose and drenched in sweet velvet. “Is that any way to go about asking for things we want?”

A purr was met with a growl. No, a snarl. 

“I'm not asking, jackass.”

The lord hummed, coming to a stop right in front of Ethan. His cool eyes became freezing, piercing daggers. 

“Tsk, tsk. You speak to your mother with that dirty little mouth, Ethan? Maybe I should teach you some manners, hm? Put you in your place.”

If you looked at the two men, you couldn't tell which was the predator, and which was the prey. Especially when both seemed to lunge at each other. 

Barely, just barely, Ethan's feet moved first. He bolted toward Heisenberg, a hand out in the direction of his pocket that cradled the final piece of his daughter. 

Heisenberg almost wanted to hate him for making this so easy, but the electricity he felt shooting up his arm when his gloved hand gripped his wrist was like a drug. 

In a flash, before throwing him up against the wall, Karl swore that he could feel remnants of stitches or… Staples against the man's wrist. 

Christ, this kid's more like Frankenstein than me. He's more versatile than I thought. 

Heisenberg turned Ethan into a whip, spinning and sending him around and up against the wall with a crack (and yelp) to match. 

In all that time in keeping tabs on Papa Winters as he stormed across the village, a thundering shotgun in hand, he'd heard Ethan's pained whimpers more than enough times. He knew that the more painful something was, the more grit Ethan's whining was gripped with.

The one he heard this time nearly put him on his knees. 

Note to self. The kid can handle rough.

Ethan's calloused fingers wrapped around the grip of his gun and his muscles had begun their recoil to tug it free from the holster just as Heisenberg rushed him. 

A leather hand slammed against the wall while the other darted to the other man's belt and ripped the tucked-away knife free. It made a beeline to his neck, the edge of the blade just dancing along the slim hairs. 

“A word of advice buttercup,” Heisenberg murmured, breath rising and falling like waves against those cherry-tinted cheeks of Ethan's, a husky chuckle on its heels. “Try using knives next time. Better for close encounters, wouldn't you say?”

The blonde's chest rose and fell, barely pressing flush against the other's as it lifted. Frantic, he forced his body still like spotted, target prey; yet those eyes of his were another story entirely. They darted all over Karl's face as if trying to memorize every wrinkle, every line, every scar--God, were there a lot of scars. The patriarch's eyes trailed along each of them as if they were a road map. One that all led back to one place: Karl's eyes. 

Even as they hid behind the vaguely opaque discs of his shades, Ethan could make them out, clear as day. 

He knew Heisenberg well enough–probably too well for his liking–to know just how much he was holding under his tongue. He could only imagine all the things he wanted to say to him. Though, it should be noted that just because he could didn't mean he should–and certainly not that he would. 

In those eyes of his, Ethan could see how unwavering they were, and how they effortlessly they chased after his own. He could see the centers of them slowly expand, almost as if they wanted to suck the blonde in and never let him go. 

Almost challenging the metal lord (or maybe as a means of getting away), Ethan tilted his head up to meet the cold, cracked wall; leaving that smooth, pallid neck of his exposed to the edge of the knife. 

“You won't,” he breathed, the air between his and Heisenberg’s face feverish and volatile. “You need me.”

Damn right he fucking did.

A wolfish grin flickered on Karl's face, and the weapon's blade went from teasing to kissing the skin on the pinned man's throat. 

“You'd like to see me try, wouldn't you, peach?”

“Dying to.”

Fuck, the growl he heard. It almost matched the grin he couldn't rip away. 

“You know, Winters, you've got guts. I wonder if you'd still look pretty with em’ ripped out and strung along my floor like tinsel.”

Heisenberg could take that knife he was holding and slice the tension between them like bread. It only thickened and electrified as the seconds ticked by, and as their eyes dashed around in a game of tag. 

Finally, the kid spoke up. His voice, to Heisenberg’s surprise, was weak. It was shaky, coated in air and coarse moxie. 

“You don't scare me. You know that right?”

Heisenberg’s eyes flashed in surprise, only to melt into a sly, heated glare. His mouth shaped into a smirk. The voice that left it was nothing more than a humming rumble. So much so that Ethan could feel it against his chest, tangled with their heartbeats.

“Ethan, Ethan, Ethan," he tutted. "Is that your way of telling me to try harder?”

Heisenberg expected many things from the man he'd pinned to the wall; A punch, a bullet to the chest, to spit in his face and throw a harsh 'fuck off and die' in tow. 

What he didn't expect was for him to lean in. He didn't expect to be met with a grimace, or to feel the very edges of his golden hair teasing his forehead, or even to see Ethan's hazel eyes dilating to match his own, fighting for total control. 

He didn't expect to see his lips pulled closer to him, aching to bridge a gap. Karl Heisenberg didn't expect to feel his cheeks match Ethan's and their heavy dusting of rouge. 

He sure as hell didn't expect what he'd said to be the last thing he heard before pouncing on the father with dizzying need.

“Go on. Let's see what you're really made of, Karl Heisenberg.”

[naturesapphic]

mommy!alcina dealing with reader who is having trouble with anxiety? or hurt/comfort? love your stories, keep up the great work!!

I’m not sure what to specifically write for this one since I already have a lot that I wrote about this topic. I’ll put some listed below for y’all to see :) 👇🏻

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Three: Karl Heisenberg + Violent Night

The movie you want to watch is rather fitting for your partner. You drag Karl to the makeshift living space. The TV is old, but that doesn't mean that Karl hasn't tried to update it.

'Just because everyone else wants to be stuck in the past doesn't mean I wanna be.' Karl had muttered as he tinkered with the metal box.

"Are you sure it comes out tonight? I've got a lot of work to get to Buttercup." Kalr asks; you roll your eyes. You're pretty sure of it. "It played on the radio a few days ago that it would be out before Christmas." You answer Karl. "And all of this is necessary?" He asks, waving his hand around to the decorations filling the room with light and life.

You roll your eyes and shake your head. "Of course, it's all "necessary" Karl." You say, making air quotes out of your fingers. Karl sighs. "Fine, but the popcorn is all mine," Kalr says, taking the large bowl from the table and placing it in his lap. Large hand dipping into the bowl, grabbing kernels of popped corn.

The static on the TV screens blurs out, and the movie starts quickly. You curl into Karl's side, his eminence heat. Seaping from his skin through clothes to wrap itself around me like a heat blanket.

The mountains behind the factory keep the cold wrapped around us, though Karl says that keeps the super-sized bitch and her kids away. Regardless, Karl seems to be genuinely calm and even relaxed in the movie that plays on the screen. Your original plan had been to watch the movie alongside your boyfriend, but the longer you sit there with him. The longer your eyes drift over to Karl's face.

Gray hair litter his beard and mustache. A sharp nose that you want to reach out and boop half the time. His hair is pulled back into a messy bun, making his face more evident. His sunglasses were tossed off to the side table along with his worn-out hat.

Gloves sitting on top of them. It makes you jolt when Karl laughs at a line or two in the movie. Karl's right arm is wrapped around your shoulder, as he always does, keeping you tucked to his side.

Moments later, the light flickers as Karl burns the end of one of his cigars. The smoke filters into the air, making you feel at home. Karl smokes his cigar and laughs at a few lines for the rest of the movie.

Karl looks over at you, "What's wrong, buttercup?" He asks, his voice thick and smooth. "Nothin'." You mutter softly before returning your attention to the movie for which you have no idea what's happening. "Are you sure? Cause staring is rude, you know." Karl grunts out, with a chuckle rattling the both of you. You roll your eyes, but your cheeks burn with the embarrassment of being caught.

By the movie's end, you've seen not enough to even understand what's happened. On the other hand, Karl is impressed by the film; he's always been a Western guy. Loving the gun-slinging cowboy. The violence usually follows them around on their horses' backs, but you can guess the violence in this movie is enough for Karl to enjoy it.

"Good pick, love," Karl mutters, stubbing his cigar into the ashtray. You wish you could stay like this forever, in the warmth of your boyfriend, in a fantasy world that doesn't exist outside the factory's walls. "I'm glad you liked it." You say as you try to snuggle further into Karl's side. "We should do this more often." He comments, letting you practically climb into his lap.

Completed on: 10/18/23

Posted on: 12/03/23

House Heisenberg-

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