#Heisenberg x Reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lady-z-writes · 10 months

Text

(Jealous Karl x reader. "You're mine" smut)

Swear I thought I posted this, but here you go:

(ETA: ...I'd posted it in 2021, apparently. 🫣)

He'd made the decision to bring you, despite his best efforts to avoid this type of thing.

As soon as Alcina found out about you, she'd been urging him to join her little charade where she pretends to be a good oversized hostess.

She just wanted to get a taste of you, he was sure; lock eyes with you and hope to seduce you, steal you away from him.

Who knew the fucking caterer was going to be yet another threat.

The way he's staring at you makes Heisenberg notice. Sipping his whiskey, he keeps an eye on things as you chat kindly, probably unknowingly.

The smile on your face, the way you look in that outfit tonight - it's too much. He barely let you leave the factory without a mark on you; just in case someone got close enough to see the bite marks on your inner thigh.

You knew you were his. But with some alcohol in you, he wasn't so sure you'd behave yourself. Clearly, you hadn't started this interaction. Of course Heisenberg had been staring since you got up from the table; always an eye on things. He'd rather silently watch you than play socialite at Alcina's ridiculously over-the-top gala.

You'd been good, he just didn't trust the rest of these fuckers.

And the longer he stares, the more heated he's getting.

You'd noticed Heisenberg's staring. It was hard not to. He'd been grinding his teeth when he wasn't taking a sip of that almost-empty whiskey glass.

Speaking of, you knew you were meant to get the bottle from the server.

The caterer is nice enough but if he doesn't watch it, Heisenberg is going to make him into a mechanical plaything.

As you say goodbye, the caterer takes your hand and kisses the back of it. Totally flabbergasted, you shake your head at him.

"You need to stop," you say.

"Stop? We were having such a lovely chat. Perhaps we could have a drink under moonlight."

You glance over your shoulder, but Heisenberg isn't there.

Fuck.

"No, thank you," quickly, you back away toward the serving plater with the whiskey he likes.

It's gone.

Eyes wide, you gaze around the room to see if it's on anyone's table. If you come back without that bottle...-

Suddenly a familiar smell of cigar smoke overwhelms your senses. Glancing to your left, you notice Heisenberg's gaze fixed on you from a few feet away; whiskey bottle in hand.

"Come with me," he demands, shoving the bottle into your arms as he passes.

Before long, you're in a loading bay area, wrapping your arms around yourself from how cold you are suddenly.

"Karl, I-"

"Take your clothes off."

"What?"

He exhales smoke in your face as he shoves you against a crate.

"Now," he hisses.

Shivering, you follow orders, hand him the bottle of whiskey, watch him take a hefty gulp as he stares at your nakedness. As he hands you the bottle back, his eyes linger on the bite marks on your thigh.

You sip the booze in hopes it'll warm you up. Heisenberg takes pity on you - or maybe it's an act of ownership - but he gives you his coat and you're greedy for the warmth.

Not wasting time, he hoists you up, shoves you completely back on the oversized crate. It's freezing and hard but you don't sit up. You set down the booze before you spill it. Heisenberg pulls himself up, crawls over your body with a deep growl that exhales smoke around the cigar in his mouth. When he's eye-to-eye with you, he pops it out of his mouth, ashes it near you, uses his gloved fingers to uncover your right nipple from beneath his jacket. And then the left.

His eyes scan hungrily as he takes another inhale. You can feel him hard against your body and to be honest you're not surprised. It feels good to be this wanted.

He nods down at you and you know what he wants so wordlessly you undo his pants and belt. When his cock springs out, you guide it toward your naked pussy and let him shove himself inside you.

Arching your back, you moan out for him, knowing he wants you to be loud and the pressure of his thick cock is tender without any prep. But he wants it like this. It's a punishment of sorts.

"See you made a friend tonight," he grunts as he puts his cigar out beside your shoulder.

When he's completely in, you feel like you can finally speak. "N-no, that's not it at all. Karl, I-"

There isn't a second of hesitation: he starts pounding into you at such a pace, you can't help but grip his shoulders and whimper.

"You're mine," he growls. "You got that?"

"Yes."

"Say it," he grunts, biting your neck.

"I'm yours."

"Again."

"Karl, I'm yours!"

"Mmm, that's right. You are. You're mine to bite and to fuck. You're mine to make a scene about."

He's putting so much pressure on you, you're consumed by him and it's such an overwhelming feeling you can't help but love it.

"This cunt is mine to fill," he chuckles. "Oh? You're close, aren't you?" a deep laugh. "Bad girls don't get to cum."

You whine and grip him tighter. "No, I'm good. I promise."

"Oh, are you now?" he teases. You nod. "You look good...my jacket falling off your body like some centerfold...tits with my bitemarks on them, little marks from my facial hair...heh, it's like you're my little plaything."

"I'm yours," you whisper out, nodding against his chest as you feel your orgasm nearing. "Please, Karl, please."

He hums as if thinking it over. "One condition, doll."

"Anything."

"You sit in my lap and ride my cock while you cum."

You nod quickly and shift positions, staring in awe at him. This new position gives you so much pleasure. Your mouth is on his shoulder then kissing at his neck, moaning and crying out his name as you ride out your orgasm.

"Good girl," he laughs. "Ah, that's it, kitten...getting me so close."

After you've come down, your heartbeat in your ears, you kiss his neck again, open your eyes, throw your head back a second to stare at the ceiling as he pounds up into you.

It's only when you look straight ahead of you that you notice the door is open.

"Karl," you whisper, tapping him on the arm, trying to pull back.

It's too late. He's got an iron grip on your hips as he's moaning and pumping into you.

All while the caterer stands there in shock next to his crates of pastries.

"Get a good enough show there, bucko?" Heisenberg pants a yell over his shoulder where you're still staring in shock.

No response, just the sound of footsteps retreating.

You smack him on the bicep.

"You knew he was there."

He laughs loudly. "Of course I did!"

"Heisenberg!" you hiss.

"No harm. I didn't even kill him. Besides, look at that entire crate of pastries he left...just for us to sneak back to the factory."

You groan, hiding your face in his chest out of pure embarrassment.

"What? You're a sight when you're cumming. Probably gave that guy plenty to think about..."

"Can we go now?"

"Depends. Learned your lesson about talking to strangers?"

You roll your eyes.

"Yes, sir."

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heisenberg x you

676 notes · View notes

zer0pm · 11 months

Text

Imagine working your first night in the village tavern and serving a drink to a man you catch sitting by his lonesome. He accepts your kind gesture and engages you in conversation. You didn’t realize you were talking to Lord Heisenberg until it was too late.

“Got a tall one with your name on it.”

The silver-haired man simply glances up at you from his seat, bright eyes switching between your smiling face and the full mug you’ve placed in front of him. The bored expression he wore previously relaxes into that of mild intrigue.

“I didn’t order that,” he says, amusement in his deep voice.

You shrug casually, “It’s on the house.”

When he didn’t say anything right away, you proceeded to explain yourself. “Barkeep mentioned you haven’t ordered anything since you got here. I figured I could spot you a round. Hope you don’t find it rude.”

To your surprise, the man chuckles, returning your patient smile with a toothy grin. “Can’t tell if you’re brave or just straight-up fucking strange. But you are definitely interesting, I’ll give you that.”

You tilt your head curiously, unsure of what to make of his comment. Perhaps, this stranger is one of those lone wolf types that rarely engage in social interaction. However, that didn’t seem correct. He seemed more like the type that enjoyed talking, if not just to hear the sound of his own voice. He has such a distinctive voice too, you found, the rich baritone hitting strings inside you that sent shivering notes tingling down your spine. You shudder not out of fear or anxiety, but out of genuine fascination.

The stranger takes the mug you’ve put down for him in one of his hands, lifting it by the handle and bringing it to his lips before tipping his head back. It gave you an opportunity to look him over. As you suspected, he is large in build. Burly and robust but not overly ripped in muscular definition. He looked strong and undeniably imposing, shaped by hard, laborious work. You imagine that if he wasn’t holding the mug at its handle, he could wrap his thick, calloused digits around the cup with ease. The loose shirt he wore had the sleeves rolled up, exposing several wiry scars that adorn the back of his hands and forearms. They varied in length and size, barely faded by time, and matched the old wounds that ran across his rugged face.

Questions danced upon your tongue on how he got his scars, but you thought better of it and bit them down. He looked different from the other men you’ve seen in the village and had a unique air about him too, one that you would be able to immediately spot in a busy crowd. He was quite handsome, in a rough sort of way.

The man must have noticed you staring for when you brought your eyes back up to his, he was already looking right at you. His bright gaze remained locked onto you even as he sets the drink back down with a quenched sigh, a devilish tongue swipes the excess liquid from damp lips before withdrawing behind wolfish teeth. The ends of his mouth tugs upwards, putting his canines into full display. The damn man is smirking again and his eyes had a knowing, teasing gleam to them. Feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, you bowed your head to hide the embarrassment burning on your cheeks.

Suddenly feeling incredibly shy, you take a step back. “I-I’m going to see to my other patrons, then. If you need anything else, just-”

“What’s your name, buttercup?” He cuts you off. There is an edge to his tone, as if daring you to move from your spot before him.

Buttercup? He’s giving you a petname? Is it derogatory or is it a genuine term of endearment? Either way, it made your face burn hotter.

Overwhelmed with the need to answer him immediately, you gave the stranger your name without a second thought. He repeats it in a low, slow drawl as if testing and savoring the sound on his tongue. Your heart picks up speed and you spoke up again in a futile attempt to calm the rapid beating.

“What’s yours?”

Like flipping a switch, the air between you two suddenly shifts. The wide smirk he wore falters and his brows furrow. These few words seemed to have disarmed him as the grey-haired man beholds you with a piercing glare, searching your face for any signs that you are joking or something. You could do nothing but stare back, balancing on the balls of your feet nervously. When he found that you were sincere in your question, he grasps his bearded chin thoughtfully.

“Intriguing,” he comments, his expression deeply pensive. His reply didn’t relieve any of the tension you were feeling and you wondered if you somehow offended him for not knowing who he is. “Are you local?”

Unable to fathom where his line of questioning was heading, you decided that it was best to answer him honestly as you have been doing thus far. “Uhh, yes, of course. Born and raised. Although, I’m not from the immediate area, if that’s what you mean.”

A thick silver brow arches. “So, I take it you’re not the religious sort, then.”

You shake your head. There was no helping the guilt taking root inside you. Clearly this man thinks that his identity should be apparent to you. Thinking about it, he does look sort of familiar but you couldn’t quite place him. You wished then that you paid more attention to the people around you in the weekly sermons.

“Not really,” you rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “I rarely went to church. Not that I don’t follow the black faith, mind you. I just have other priorities. Life can be hard in the village, you know how it is.”

When he didn’t comment on this, you followed up with your own inquiry with the intention of making polite conversation. He mentioned religion, so…

“Are you a pastor?” That seemed like a logical thing to ask. But surely if he was leading the mass, you’d have remembered him right away. Maybe you simply missed each other in passing. You can’t shake the feeling that you do know him somewhere.

A bellowing laugh erupts from his throat. The man bends over on his seat, banging the wooden tabletop with a clenched fist as zealous humor consumed him. You didn’t notice that the rest of the tavern went completely quiet at his spontaneous outburst. When he finally sits back upright, he was in tears.

“Damn, you’re adorable!” He sighs deeply, his grin wide as he wipes the water from his eyes. “Do I look like the kind to give fucking sermons, buttercup?”

Again with the petname. You weren’t bothered by it this time. If anything, you took the lighthearted turn in the conversation as a good sign, pleased to see that the man looked like he was enjoying his time with you. Even at the expense of your embarrassment.

Deciding it best to play along, you returned his good humor with a playful smile of your own. “Looks can be deceiving.”

He scoffs, “Can say that again. Guess not everyone in Miranda’s herd is a sheep.”

You didn’t quite register that. “Excuse me?”

His hand waves off your question dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. You…”, the grey-haired man leans back against his chair, his lopsided smile bordered on teasing. “You get to call me Karl.”

A surprised hum escapes you, you didn’t expect a man so interesting to have such an ordinary name. Thankfully, he didn’t seem offended by the involuntary sound. Remembering you had a job to do, you throw him a courteous nod.

“Nice to meet you, Karl. I really should check on my other customers. Is there anything else I can get you?”

He casts you a playful look, “Are you on the menu?”

Although you were standing still, you nearly tripped over on the spot and tried to save face by quipping back. “Ha ha. Think you’re so smooth.”

Karl shrugs, reaching for the mug once more and inspecting the contents lazily. “I prefer to be rough. But no, I think this will do. For now.”

Your brain shut down after “rough” and you were quick to retreat back to the bar, ears turning red upon hearing his knowing chuckle as you created distance. So distracted by the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside you that you failed to realize that the usual hustle and bustle of the busy tavern was completely void of sound. A loud bang of what sounded like someone slamming their hand against the wood harshly is all that it took to bring life back into the room and the patrons returning to their own devices. This somehow went under your notice too. You did not regain your wits until the barkeep you were working with for the night snapped his fingers in front of your face.

“Oy! New blood! Didn’t I tell you not to bother that one?” he reproached you. Was that panic in his eyes?

You blink back at your distressed coworker. “If it’s about the free tankard, I’ll foot the lei. Everyone else looked like they were having a fine time besides him. That didn’t seem right to me.”

The frantic man shook his head fiercely, “Whether or not he is enjoying himself isn’t any of our business. He could very well be plotting his wrath upon this establishment for what you did!”

The excitement that was bubbling within you before is now replaced by confusion. “Why would Karl do that? Who is he?”

The barkeep’s face falls into that of pure shock. “Are you completely daft!? He’s-”

He chokes. Suddenly, his expression pales to an alarming shade of white. From the corner of your eye, you spot a large shadow looming and felt an imposing presence from your side.

You turn your head to see the man from before standing next to you. But this wasn’t the Karl that you spoke with earlier. He had the same face but wore more clothing- more distinct articles of clothing that made you freeze on the spot upon recognition. Afterall, who could ever miss the signature dirty trenchcoat, or the dark, round glasses, or the well-worn hat of Lord Heisenberg himself? Who dares not recognize one of the four nobles that rule over the village with an iron fist? Evidently you.

He didn’t meet your eyes right away, instead he had a deathly glare directed right at the barkeep who was now quivering in his boots. “Because I’m in a good mood,” the lord began, voice descended into a low growl, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear what you just called my new friend.” Lord Heisenberg then looks down at you behind black lenses, his demeanor shifting from threatening and terrifying to playful and pleasant.

His smile returns, seemingly wider than before, likely because he knows that you know who he is now. “Thanks for the drink, buttercup. I’ll see you real soon.” He pushes his shades down the bridge of his nose, winking at you before tipping his hat in an exaggerated head bow. With heavy footsteps, he takes his leave, not giving a second glance.

Your eyes followed him and lingered on the door he went through long after he left. There was a deafening silence. It filled the tavern for what seemed like an eternity before it was broken by the clanging of the metal tray you once held in your hands.

The lord of steel was here in the flesh. And you were talking to him so carelessly. And he was flirting with you so shamelessly. This was not how you expected your first day on the job to go. And he declared he intended to see you again.

You’re in deep trouble…

#heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #heisenberg imagine #karl heisenberg #resident evil 8 #re8 heisenberg #resident evil village #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #sorry it’s been awhile #took a little break #I will get back to our dashing Spaniard #but wanted to post for the trash can #please enjoy #writing for trash magneto was a challenge #heisendaddy #my writing #Zer0PM imagine

950 notes · View notes

buryustogether · 1 year

Text

the den of the wolf

karl heisenberg x f!reader

summary: karl voices his concerns about your safety now that he’s taken you as his lover.

word count: 1.6

warnings/tags: implied sexual relations, nudity, swearing

author’s note: anyways…

Any other woman would have run from him. Would have cowered in his shadow and trembled at the sound of his voice, would have prayed for forgiveness for whatever they could have done to earn his fearful wrath. They would have ducked their heads as they passed him, lowered their gaze in hopes he would walk right past them to wherever in hell he was ambling off to. He was terrifying, the most powerful Lord of the village who only showed his face when there was a debt to be collected or revenge to be extracted.

Any other woman would have run from him. Any other woman would have feared for her life.

But you did not. Instead of running, you stayed. Instead of ducking your head, you lifted yours to meet his gaze. Instead of praying for his gift of forgiveness, you embraced his wrath and accepted everything about him wholly.

The others down in the village said you had lost your mind to wander so close to a Lord’s heart - if they had them. They said you were not long for this earth any longer, that he would eventually lure you into that churning factory of his and devour you whole until you were nothing more than a piercing scream upon the air. No one held the Lord’s eye as long as you did, spoke to him as you did, without placing a target on their back.

You were insane, they whispered amongst themselves. To entangle yourself with the business and likes of Lord Heisenberg was plain suicide. Throwing oneself off the cliff near the edge of their perimeters would have been less painful. You could not be saved, and you were to be grieved. Your death would come swiftly, yet would be prolonged and slow and torturous. Everyone knew he enjoyed playing with his food.

Their murmurs were unable to penetrate the thick layers of snow covering the factory, the walls and the floors humming and warmed by the constant thrum of machinery down below. Their rumors were not welcome here, not within the workspace, nor the large bedroom protected within the heart of the giant machine. They did not wake you where you slept within the den of the feared wolf of the village, legs bent and arms drawn to yourself as you faced the edge of the mattress.

What did wake you was the slight shifting of clothing and the scrape of a chair against the ground. Your eyes opened to be met with the hazy picture of the window across the room, the sill piled high with pockets of snow. The next thing you took note of was the trembling ache that enveloped your body entirely - most persistently at the apex of your thighs. Your veins thrummed with exhaustion, limbs sore and neck bruised with littered love bites left there by sharp canines and insistent teeth.

The events of the previous night washed over you slowly, like an ocean’s ebb. A shot of adrenaline shot through you. You had shared a bed with a man for the first time - and not simply any man. Lord Karl Heisenberg himself. He’d touched you and felt you and made you sing such lovely songs for him until he knew your body better than herself. And then you’d fallen into this endless pit of darkness, your only purchase to the real world his hands upon you and his fingers carding through your hair and his chafed lips upon your face.

And here you lay now, in his bed, wrapped in his covers with his claim upon you still drumming through your body. You exhaled a sigh and blinked heavily. You felt content to sleep the day away here, enveloped in his scent and his feeling.

But the spot beside you was empty.

You mustered up what strength you could find within yourself and shifted over slightly. Your lover sat at his desk against the far wall, head ducked and his hand jumping as he scribbled upon pages with a pencil. His hair was secured up with a strip of leather, shirt unbuttoned and crumpled from the night prior.

Licking your lips and attempting to wet your dry mouth, you spoke softly. “Karl.”

Nothing short of enraptured by just your voice, his head lifted and he turned in his chair to look back at you. Even from here, you could see the stars dancing in his irises, the shadows and creases and specks of light that danced upon his face. He studied you for a short moment, wild strands escaping the leather and framing his whiskered jaw, before exhaling deep and climbing to his feet.

His knees cracked when he stood, a testament to just how long he had been tromping the grounds of the village down below. He was - because he said it was too much work to keep track any more - at least one hundred fifty. His mutations allowed him to outlive the world around him until there was nothing left but himself and his regrets. If there was any mercy left in the world, you would be there with him when the time came.

Karl let his weight come to rest on the mattress, then leaned over to gather you up in his arms. You marveled at his raw strength despite the small huff he gave upon settling you in his lap. The muscles in his arms flexed when he lifted you, the bit of pudge on his lower stomach tightened. When he relaxed again, holding you tight to himself spread across his thighs, he tucked your forehead against the warm nape of his neck and petted your hair.

Your could sense within the soft ticking and whirring in his chest something was the matter. You could barely keep your eyelids open, but you still implored, “What is it?”

He said nothing at first, but you knew your words struck him deep, because his grip around you became tighter and the petting of your hair became slightly rougher. His beard scratched your forehead slightly as he grumbled, “Nothing you need to worry your pretty head about.”

You blinked a moment. How foreign it was to hear a Lord of the village calling you pretty, holding you this way, with your bare chest pressed against his and your faces so close. “If it bothers you,” you murmured, “it bothers me.”

His chest jumped slightly with a gentle chuckle, one that you felt reverberate through your body. Your grip on him tightened; his on you, as well. “You are a nosy little villager, aren’t you?”

You said nothing, waiting expectantly.

Finally, he caved with a sigh that fanned across the shell of your ear. You shivered, and he reached down to pull a blanket around your shoulders. He said, choosing his words with the same care he placed into his projects, “Miranda can’t know about you. About… this.”

“I expect your mother would be happy you’ve taken a woman as your own,” you joked and smiled into his neck. “You would be the first of the Lords to do so.” Your grin faded slightly as a troubling, thunderous thought entered your mind. “That is, if… if you’ll still have me that far into the future.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” His words drove themselves into your chest like bullets as he pulled you up and held your face, bare hands warm against your cheeks. He gazed at you as if you were the solution to every problem he had, and it nearly brought tears to your eyes. He touched his forehead to yours, an action so gentle and unlike his usual gruff demeanor. He said, “I’ll always want you. I’ll always have you.”

You pursed your lips. You could drown in this sensation - of being wanted, and wanting just the same in return.

But that same downcast, almost saddened expression melted over his features again. “If she knew about you, she would take you away from me. Do things to you I couldn’t live with myself knowing happened.” His lips twitched. “That’s what mothers do, huh? Take away their brat’s toys when they misbehave.” One of his hands brushed your hair from your face, sliding a thumb across your cheek that left tingles in its wake. “You have to stay here, sweetheart. Where I can know you’re safe. And warm. And out of that bitch’s hands.”

“Okay.” The answer came so swiftly it nearly surprised the both of you. There came no hesitation or thought over it. There was no need. You lived by yourself in the village; you had no one to look after. And the other villagers thought as much of you as a begging dog at the foot of a king. You had nothing to leave behind.

And the idea of at last being eternally close to him at all hours of the day, no matter the time… it coursed your heart with a sense of pride and joy and love.

“Yeah?” he said, as if he needed one more confirmation to hear what you truly said.

You nodded your head once, resting your hand on the back of his neck so that your foreheads touched once more. “Yes,” you murmured. “Wherever you want me, I’ll be there.”

There came a moment of stillness between you, in which Karl’s throat bobbed slightly and his brows twitched as if they ached to draw together. Instead, he tipped his head and connected his lips to yours, grasping you tighter than he had even the prior night.

You were his now, and he, yours.

No one was going to take you from him.

No one.

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heisenberg x reader #heisenberg imagine #heisenberg x you #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re village #re8 village #heisenburg x Reader

1K notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 2 months

Text

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 ⨀

124 notes · View notes

uvobreakmylegs · 1 year

Text

Hephaestus’ Workshop

Warnings: captivity, possessive behavior, creepy moments, brief body horror, Heisenberg is an asshole

Word count: 4k

Karl Heisenberg's desire to escape Mother Miranda made him a workaholic, staying up late into the night working on his soldats, the metal army he was putting together so when he did finally turn on Miranda, neither her nor any of the other lords would be able to stand in his way.

So it was normal enough not to see him for an extended period, his absences usually lasting two or three days.

When more than a week had passed and you had yet to see him emerge from the lower levels of his factory, you became worried. While he could handle himself, who knew what exactly he was getting into with those experiments of his. Worst case scenarios were running through your mind, various ways in which the lord ended up getting himself killed. Electrocution, a gas explosion, even getting torn apart by the soldats he was making. How likely were those scenarios? You weren't sure, but the longer you went without seeing him, the more you wondered if something bad had happened to him.

And while there was a part of you that was worried for his sake, you were also worried about what would happen to you if he died.

Once Miranda and the other lords realized what had happened and discovered you, what action would they take?

You probably wouldn't go to Dimitrescu; no doubt she would be disgusted upon learning that you'd repeatedly slept with Heisenberg and would consider you to be tainted for that reason. You couldn't imagine that Donna would have much interest, so the only one who might end up taking you could be Moreau, although what he might do to you also was unclear.

Then again, you might not end up with any of the lords. If Heisenberg died and his plans were discovered, then Mother Miranda herself might choose to exact vengeance on you. If she was the one to take you, it would be a long time before you would die, if she would decide to kill you at all.

That was what spurred you to make your way down the stairs to the lower levels. That, and the fact that you had heard Moreau outside of the factory, calling out for Heisenberg.

There wasn't a lot for you to do in the factory and Heisenberg didn't want you being involved with his experiments, so whenever you were especially bored you played around with his paints in one of the rooms on the ground level of the factory, keeping the windows open a crack so the paint fumes wouldn't overwhelm you. That was when you heard Moreau calling, and you ran from the room to find a hiding spot in the event that he chose to peer through the windows.

For whatever reason, the man Heisenberg referred to as a “moronic freak�� occasionally visited with him. Maybe because Dimitrescu and Donna didn't want to be around him. Although Heisenberg didn't want to be around the fish man either, but it seemed whenever he was in the right mood, he'd talk with him, though it mostly seemed to be so he could bully the unfortunate lord. And evidently Moreau was desperate enough for company that he'd just take whatever verbal abuse was hurled his way.

But seeing as Heisenburg was still down on the lower levels, there was no one to answer when the fish man called, and he sounded more dejected the longer he tried to get a response.

Maybe it wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but since it was the third time Moreau had came to the factory and found no sign of Heisenberg, you worried that he would become suspicious.

You came out of your hiding spot when it sounded like he was leaving.

But as he left, you happened to catch him talking to himself, muttering something about needing to “tell mother.”

The only person he could be referring to was Mother Miranda, and if he was bringing her here to call upon Heisenberg, then you needed to get him to come back up.

Or confirm that he was dead. One or the other.

You tugged at the collar around your neck as you went down the stairs, trying in vain to loosen it just a little. You'd accepted that you needed to wear it, so you didn't know why Heisenberg insisted on the thing being so tight which often made it uncomfortable given that it was made out of metal. Not to mention the design at the front caused you extra grief, as the family crest with the horse and horseshoe he'd so carefully crafted dug into your skin at times.

Maybe it came from some desire to have something that was clearly marked as being “his”.

Whatever. It didn't matter at the moment. As you made it to the bottom of the first flight of stairs, you reiterated that you needed to find Heisenberg, and if he was alive, you would tell him what you'd heard.

And if not...... You'd figure it out when you came to that part.

It took only a few minutes to realize that the task you'd set for yourself wasn't easy at all: the factory was massive, and it took you over thirty minutes to wander around the highest of the underground levels, only for Heisenberg to be nowhere in sight.

Sighing to yourself a little, you returned to the stairs and made your way down to the next level, and the results were the same.

The further down you went, the colder it became. Even though at one point you'd caught sight of massive furnaces in an open area beyond the bodies that were being pulled along a metal track, any and all heat was traveling upwards. You wished you'd brought something more with you than the simple dress from the village Heisenberg had gotten for you. All you could do was bury your hands in your sleeves and wrap your arms around yourself as you continued with your search.

And the further down you went, it also became dirtier. At a certain point, you lifted up the skirt of your dress to keep any of the grime and dirt from getting on the end of it. You didn't have too many pieces of clothing that fit you, so you did your best to keep them from getting too dirty.

Like Aphrodite going down to visit Hephaestus.

You stopped, going over that thought again.

….. It was rather narcissistic to compare yourself to Aphrodite, of all people. Not to mention that when it came to personality, you wouldn't want to compare yourself to her for that either. There were a fair amount of bad things she'd done, like how she helped cause a war that left countless people dead for the sake of her own vanity and the constant cheating on her husband.

Although in fairness regarding the second point, you didn't recall ever reading anything that indicated that she'd actually wanted to be with Hephaestus. That was something that she hadn't been given a choice in.

You shook your head.

As fun as it was to analyze morally questionable gods from ancient times, that also wasn't too important right now.

Another level down and you had yet to catch any sign of Heisenberg. By now you weren't sure how long you'd been looking and your feet were starting to hurt. Because of that, you'd switched from the stairs to taking the elevators. Maybe the noise the elevators made would get his attention and he'd come out to meet you.

But nope. Still nothing.

Although you did eventually run into someone who was alive.

Or at least, one that acted like it.

When you'd been venturing down a dark hallway, you quickly noticed the soldats that were hanging on one side of it. Like the ones you'd seen earlier on the track, they were motionless, and when you inched your way towards the one that was closest to the door, you didn't see any sign that they were conscious.

Not wanting to stay in this area longer than necessary, you walked into the hall, keeping a fast pace and staying as far away from them as you could.

Your heart jumped up into your throat when the one at the very end of the line suddenly sprung to life and stepped out in front of you, blocking your path.

He turned to face you and stood there while he stared.

Not that you could see his eyes given the large black visor that covered half of his face. But it felt like he was staring.

What concerned you most about him was the giant drill that had been attached to his left arm. The thing was almost as tall as you were, and if he managed to hit you with it, you wouldn't have a long time to live.

The red power box on his chest glowed in the darkened area, and your eyes kept jumping from that spot back up to his face as you waited for any indication for what his next move would be. That red area should be his weak point, you remembered. But even if you could avoid that drill, you didn't have any weapons, nor did you have the strength to shut him down with your hands alone.

Then he moved.

A lot faster than you were expecting, as his empty right hand reached out for your head. You only managed to take a few steps back before he had a hand in your hair, his grip tightening when you tried to pull away. When you still tried to get away, the warning growl that came from his mouth made you still. So you stood there while the soldat ran dead fingers through your hair.

He gingerly stroked the strands before switching to your face, trailing across your cheek and outlining your lips before moving down to your jaw and then eventually your neck.

What do you do? Let him do what he wanted? Try to shut him down even without weapons, or did you take advantage of how distracted he was at the moment to run away and hope you were fast enough to avoid him grabbing you again?

None of those things, as it turned out.

Because when his fingers came in contact with the metal collar around your neck and traced the outline of the Heisenberg family crest, the soldat pulled his hand back like he'd been burned. He moved fast again, this time to get away from you, lowering his head once there was distance between the two of you once more.

After a moment where nothing happened, you cleared your throat, not realizing how dry it had become since coming down here.

“C-could you move? I need to get through, please,” you said.

The soldat reacted immediately, stepping to the side to allow you as much room as you needed.

“Thank you,” you mumbled as you scurried past him.

From what you could hear, he wasn't following you, but when you glanced over your shoulder, you saw him staring at you from around the corner.

Please let Heisenberg still be alive. Just so I don't have to go through that again, you thought to yourself.

Luckily that soldat was the only one that woke when you came by in your search for the lord, and you were spared from any more instances like that one.

Just when you figured that Heisenberg was also nowhere to be found on this level and you were coming to terms with needing to pass by the one that had grabbed you to get to the elevator, something caught your attention:

Cigar smoke.

The smell of the Cuban cigars that Heisenberg was so fond of was wafting out of a doorway you hadn't initially noticed, and you made your way past a table full of an assortment of tools.

Another soldat, this time on an operating table in the middle of the room. This one was missing parts of his arms, both having been cut off and stitched up before the elbow. You couldn't see his face either as a large chunk of metal was covering almost his entire upper half, and when you looked to a table that sat opposite of him, you saw what looked to be a propeller blade.

No, wait..... Those were chainsaws.

Another strong smell of the Cuban cigar hit you, and when you looked beyond the soldat on the operating table into an adjacent room, you saw him.

Heisenberg, facing away from you while leaning back on a beaten-up looking chair and one hand holding a cigar that was nearly finished.

Alive and well, and clearly awake as he pulled the cigar back to his lips.

Also aware that you were there, as he spoke soon after.

“I thought I told you that you shouldn't come down this far,” he said, a new wave of smoke rising after he exhaled.

“Yeah, you did,” you said.

“And yet here you are.”

He glanced back to you, his face finally coming into view. His beard looked messier than normal, and it looked like there had been a build-up of grime on his skin. A result for working for over a week with little to no sleep, most likely.

“You usually listen to what I say, so I'm guessing you're here for a reason,” Heisenberg continued.

You nodded.

“Well then,” he began, standing up to turn his chair around to face you and sitting back down after, “let's hear it.”

“Moreau came by earlier,” you said.

“What, did that idiot see you?”

“No, I don't think so,” you answered, “but when he was leaving, I heard him mention something about bringing Miranda around.”

The dark sunglasses he wore made it difficult to get a read on what he was feeling, but the instant you mentioned Miranda's name, his eyebrows furrowed and he frowned.

“Goddammit, I miss him once and he goes running to that bitch?” he snapped.

“.... Not once,” you corrected.

“What?”

“It's the third time he's come by since you've been down here.”

“What? I've only been down here four days, what's he need to see me for?”

“..... Karl, you've been down here for over a week,” you said.

He stared at you for a moment before saying “you're kidding.”

You shook your head.

There was surprise on his face now. He really had been caught off-guard by that information.

“That's a new one for me,” said Heisenberg, “and here I thought I was pretty good at keeping track of things.”

“Maybe you got too engrossed in your – ah!”

You'd been standing next to the soldat by this point and it surprised you when he brushed one of his stumps against your arm. You jumped to the side, hitting a shelf while chills ran through you.

That was enough to annoy Heisenberg, as a crowbar that had been sitting on the table next to the chainsaws suddenly flew off and delivered a solid blow to the soldat's stomach, making the poor creature let out a cry that was muffled by the metal over his head.

“Don't touch her, asshole.”

Heisenberg looked back to you, asking “you didn't hurt yourself, did you?”

You'd banged yourself up a little, but it wasn't anything serious and you shook your head.

“Good.”

He pressed the end of the cigar out into a nearby ashtray that was near to overflowing. Then he sat up in his seat, stretching out his arms as he said “guess I better head up top. Don't want Miranda to come in and see something she shouldn't.”

You nodded, but you were looking at the soldat again. What was he trying to do with this one that had him working so hard?

“What are you working on?” you asked.

“A fucking failure, that's what,” he grumbled, “I've been trying to figure out a solution to the overheating problem, but there's nothing. Just a waste of time, energy and materials. I don't even wanna keep – hey, what the fuck did I just say, freak?”

The soldat was reaching out to you again after hearing your voice, the sewn up stump blindly searching for you, though he pulled his hand back when he heard Heisenberg talking to him again.

Weird that it was the second time you'd encountered one of his soldiers trying to get handsy with you.

“Why are they all so touchy?” you asked.

“.... All?” he repeated.

You turned your head to see him looking at you with an eyebrow raised.

“You do something before you got here?” he asked.

“I don't think so? Or if I did, I didn't mean to,” you began, “I was just going through the factory looking for you, and one of them woke up when I got close.”

“.... You okay?”

His eyes were still obscured, but you could tell he was looking you over now, trying to see if you'd suffered any injuries.

“I'm fine. He just grabbed at my hair a bit, mostly,” you said, then adding “and he backed off when he saw the crest.”

He was frowning again.

“Is everything okay?” you asked.

“No. They shouldn't be touching you. The ones out there were ordered not to touch you just in case something like this happened and you did come down here.”

He sighed as he continued “they're supposed to be following all of my orders, so there's something wrong if they aren't listening to something as simple as 'leave you alone'.”

“Ah.”

Heisenberg had been in an annoyed mood when you first walked in, and now that you had mentioned the reaction that the other soldat had to you, he seemed even more annoyed upon realizing that there was more work for him to do.

When you got back up top, it'd probably be best for you to retreat to your room and keep out of his way for a bit. That way you could avoid being in the line of fire in case he was pushed too far and his temper flared.

A chill ran through you then, and you visibly shuddered as you wrapped your arms around yourself once more.

Heisenberg noticed.

“You cold?”

You nodded.

He didn't say anything to that. Instead, he sat back on the chair and patted his thigh. A signal for you to sit on his lap.

You were accustomed to the command. You were also accustomed to what would happen if you tried to deny him: the metal collar would allow him to pull you forward by your neck and he would make you do what he wanted anyway. So there was no point to trying to say no as all it did was make more problems for you.

Walking forward, you quickly found yourself in his embrace as the moment you were within reach, he grabbed you and pulled you onto his lap.

He was warm, and you nuzzled your face into his shirt.

“And you said the soldats were being touchy. What's this about?” he asked.

As he said that, he wrapped his arms around you.

“.... I guess I was worried,” you answered.

“About what?”

The smell of the cigar was stronger now, as well as the smell of oil and machinery, as well as the faint scent of something burnt.

“I thought maybe you died.”

He scoffed.

“Don't have a lotta faith in me, do you?”

“You aren't normally down here this long,” you countered.

“Hm.”

His hand went to your hair after a moment, his fingers brushing through and playing with the strands in a similar manner to the soldat from earlier.

While you didn't mention that again, apparently that came to Heisenberg's mind.

“You said the one from earlier grabbed your hair?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“That doesn't seem normal either.”

You glanced over at the one on the operating table, and while you weren't sure if he could really see the two of you, the way he twisted his back and attempted to crane his neck told you that he was trying to.

“Maybe they're trying to copy you,” you said.

The stroking to your hair stopped, and his gaze also seemed to go to the soldat.

“.... If they've been watching us, then that means they've been wandering around where they shouldn't. Which is, again, a problem that needs fixing.”

He sighed again as he said “later, I guess. I'll just lock down the lower levels for now so they can't get up and cause problems. Tip my hand too early and we'll all be dead.”

You nodded.

“When did you say Moreau came by?” he asked.

“I don't know. I think it was a while ago.”

“Better hurry upstairs then,” he said, “depending on how fast he got to her and what her mood is, she just might listen to him for once.”

With that, he lifted you up in his arms as he stood, and he carried you out of the room as he headed towards the elevator.

You looked over his shoulder as he walked, your eyes going to the half-finished soldats and the various tools and metalwork that littered the rooms he went by. An army built from villager corpses combined with metal and electricity, all so he could get out of the cult of the village that Miranda called family.

And after that?

….. You realized you'd never asked him that before.

“What happens after?”

“After what?” he asked back.

“After you defeat Miranda?”

His stride didn't falter, but you heard the way he hummed to himself.

“Honestly, I haven't really thought about that part,” said Heisenberg, “figured that it's better to focus on the big thing of getting out of here before I worry about what might come after.”

“What makes you ask?” he added.

“Just wondering, I guess,” you said, “there's a lot of people like Miranda out there. If you aren't careful, someone else could end up capturing you and try to use you.”

“I'll die before I let anyone do that to me again.”

Heisenberg spoke those words with conviction. He truly hated being trapped under Miranda's thumb, truly hated being being held in this place against his will.

There's some kind of irony that he didn't realize that he'd done the exact same thing to you. The only difference between the two of you was that you weren't special; you didn't have the powers that he did, nor anything that could come even close to comparing. You were just someone weak he kept around because it made him feel like he had control of something in his life.

Trying to deny that was painful, so you went along with what he wanted while you were here.

And after the village?

“What happens to me?” you asked.

“What, when we get out?”

“Yeah.”

“You're coming with me, what else?”

He turned his head to look at you, and now that you were closer, you could vaguely see his eyes through the dark lenses of the glasses. The way he looked at you made it clear that he thought your question was beyond stupid.

“You really thought I was gonna leave you behind in this fucking village?” he asked.

“Just making sure,” you said.

“You don't need to; you're coming with me, and we'll be getting out together,” he stated firmly, “that clear?”

“Yeah.”

Finally, the two of you reached the elevator, and Heisenberg continued to hold you as he stepped in and hit the switch so the car would travel up. As the car began its ascent, he whispered to you “you'll need to stay in your room for a few days. You got lucky this time, but we don't want to risk any of the lords popping by and managing to see you.”

You nodded.

The crest was digging into your neck again, and you brought up your hand to tug at it in an attempt to get some relief. As usual, it didn't work.

If Heisenberg noticed, he pretended that he didn't.

And the two of you continued back up to the world above.

#reader insert #yandere x reader #heisenberg x reader #yandere karl heisenberg #Karl Heisenberg #yandere resident evil #karl heisenburg x reader

1K notes · View notes

i-cant-sing · 2 years

Text

Just thinking about a deadly disease spreading throughout the RE8 village and reader being one of the unfortunate to get infected. Its a supert painful disease that kills you very slowly. Chances of survival are next to none.

Poor reader is just having the worst time of have her life because this disease is eating her from inside out but she doesn't even have the time to rest or process it because she's still on her mission to find Rose.

Her only comfort is Handsome, the zombie cyborg growing more distressed by the hour. Your skin is turning pale, you're losing weight faster than you're consuming calories, you're feverish, breaths are shallow and you can't even seem to hold your own weight, having to lean on Handsome for support, all while chanting "Rose. Rose. Need to find her."

Eventually though, you pass out in his arms.

Handsome doesn't know what to do other than provide you some very basic care, but it worries him when you don't wake up. So, he caries you towards Heisenberg's factory, where Heisenberg is having yet another argument with Lady Dimitrescu. But they drop it the moment their eyes land on you.

Soon, word spreads to the other Lords as well that you're sick and they're all gathered together to find a cure for you because no way are they gonna let you die.

But it's agonising to watch you suffer through it. You're feverish, in extreme pain, in and out of consciousness and yet you're still incoherently mumbling your sister's name.

As more time passes, your symptoms worsen. The disease feels like its eating up your organs from inside, your head feels like someone is hammering nails in it, and your bones feel like someone is snapping them very slowly.

You may have a high pain tolerance but now, you wanted to much rather die than spend another second through this curse.

So you begged them. You begged them to kill you.

"Pleass- please, just do it. I don't care- I don't care how, but please do it!"

Alcina tried to soothe you. "Sweetie, no. It's gonna be okay! We're finding you the medicine. You're gonna be all good in no time!" She smiled, wiping the sweat off your forehead with her handkerchief, but you knew the truth.

"Y-you're lying- you're lying. You don't have the cure- don't have any medicine for me-" You started coughing, blood staining the rag you'd hacked up into. "I'm gonna die anyways. Why make me suffer through it?"

Moreau shook his head. "No, no! We are working on the cure!"

You chuckled dryly, wincing as your throat hurt. "Yeah? I bet you're gonna propose she turns me into a vampire."

Alcina peeked from under her hat. You shook your head. "Dont bother. If I became one, dad would never accept me."

Silence fell over the room at the mention of Ethan. It was no surprise that they all loathed him, maybe even more now than before.

Heisenberg left the room, his hands shaking in rage. He didn't want you to become a vampire, he didn't. But if that was the only way to save you, he'd do it.

Yet all you could think about was Ethan, the man who abandoned his one daughter in favour for another. He bets Ethan isn't even worried in the slightest about you right now, or trying to track you down.

Donna is going through all of her father's books to find anything useful in it for you, while Angie is crying with the Dimitrescu sisters.

Moreau is testing medicines upon medicines upon other infected people from the village, sighing as he crosses off the drugs as more people die.

Alcina and Heisenberg are both extremely frustrated because of your wish to die. How can they kill you when they've never even imagined of hurting a hair on your head?

You're still a child for fucks sake! You're too young to die, too young to even think about contemplating death.

And it broke their heart to hear you beg for them to do it.

"Handsome?" You called out to the man standing silently in the corner. His drill whirled in response. "Can you do it?"

He walked closer to you, wanting to know what you're asking.

"Can you kill me?" He didn't reply. "I know you can hear me, Handsome. Please, just- you know what? Give me the gun. I'll- I'll do it myself. Yeah, I'll do it-" you cut yourself with another coughing fit and he rushed to give you sine water.

Handsome didn't sleep a wink that night. How could he, when all he could think about was you waking up and picking up a revolver to off yourself. He couldn't trust you to not hurt yourself, not anymore.

After a few more agonising nights, your health started to return, and a week later, you were normal again, and soon you were back on the road to find Rose again with Handsome.

However, you also had many others following you around in the shadows. It was the Lords, because they couldn't bare to be at rest now (or ever again) after all they had seen you go through.

Oof imagine how Chris and Leon would react to a sick reader. Like I can see their anxiety going through the roof, Chris is coaxing you to drink the warm soup and drink your medicine while Leon is threatening one doctor after another to find a cure.

#yandere resident evil #yandere re8 #yandere lady dimitrescu #yandere heisenberg #yandere moreau #yandere donna #resident evil x reader #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady alcina #yandere chris redfield #yandere leon kennedy #heisenberg #heisenberg x reader

2K notes · View notes

thepatronsaintoffilth · 1 year

Note

I can totally see #6 with Heisenberg and y/n in YSLT

So can I, bestie!

😈😈😈

"... feels good, doesn't it?"

You hear him talking to you. It's impossible not to, of course, with the two of you mashed together, cheek-to-cheek. With you draped over him like a shawl.

A sweating, quivering, needy little shawl.

"Huh ...?" you ask hazily. He said something. A question. Of that you're certain. Beyond that, the details are a bit fuzzy.

You're not sure how Lord Heisenberg talked you into getting within grabbing distance.

You're also not clear on how he coaxed you into his lap. It must have taken some doing on his part ... Surely, you didn't just straddle his thighs without a good enough reason.

Right?

"I said," he whispers in your ear, the grin audible in his voice, "my thigh feels good, doesn't it?"

You nod, your face still buried in his neck. You can't look at him right now. You're mortified enough at the sounds coming out of you right now as you grind back and forth, the breathy little whimpers that are making him chuckle.

"Uh. Uh-huh," you pant, hips still swerving circle-eights, your needy, throbbing pussy rocking against Karl's hard thigh, clenching greedily on itself.

You slow down for just a moment, trying to get a grip on yourself, but he's not having any of that.

Karl's huge hands slide rudely down the back of your pants, startling you as he grabs a big handful of your ass. He jerks your hips forward in a rough approximation of the way you were moving before you tried to stop.

"My Lord, please -"

"Keep going."

You make a weak protest, made even weaker by the fact that you still can't lift your head. Your arms tighten around his neck.

"I didn't tell you to stop. Keep going ... C'mon, you're almost there, I can feel it ..."

You resume the rhythm from before. He still won't let go, along for the ride and jerking you hard whenever you falter or slow down.

With his scent and yours clinging to the air, intermingling in the cloud of heat enveloping the both of you, with his hands burning twin brands into your bare bottom, you couldn't stop your orgasm if you tried.

It slams through you relentlessly, spiraling out from your needy clit as your cunt grips and grips and grips on nothing. You wail that you're cumming, practically sobbing it over and over, but Karl doesn't stop until he's satisfied that he's wrung every lingering aftershock out of you. Until you're collapsed against him like a limp little ragdoll, held aloft only by his hands.

He holds you away from him, getting a nice, long look at your face. He's holding your face, smirking brazenly at the mess he's made of you. "Sweet thing," he murmurs before he kisses you, surpringly gentle in his victory.

He doesn't gloat for very long, though, opting to pull you back into his arms.

“See what you get when you behave?” he says.

"Y ... Yes, my L ... Yes, Karl ... Yes ..."

"Good girl. Now ..."

He grabs your hips again, but this time he shifts you upwards. You're not straddling his thigh anymore. You straddling ... him.

The whole hot, hard, unforgiving length of him.

"... What do you suppose I get in return?"

- M. 💕💕💕

#karl heisenberg #yslt #you smell like trouble #you smell like trouble series #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x you #heisenberg #lord heisenberg #lord heisenberg x you #lord heisenberg x reader #re8 #fanfiction #fanfic #smut

476 notes · View notes

struckd0wn · 7 months

Text

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐: 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚- 𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐠

CW:CNC

Heisenberg is finally back from his workshop, returning to the makeshift room you had set up for the both of you in his factory. He removes his jacket, draping it over a chair before he stands over the bed. You're sleeping there, laying on your stomach in nothing but one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. He watches your face, cheeks squished against the pillow. One of your legs hiked up, the fabric of your boxers slightly riding up to reveal the soft flesh of your ass. The shirt you wore is pushed up too in result of you turning in bed, exposing your hips and waist to the elder man.

He discards his hat and glasses before sitting down on the open spot next to you. Karl can barely help himself as his hand slowly moves to the flesh of your ass, massaging it between his fingers. You stir slightly and he stops, watching you turn over onto your back. Now he can see your soft stomach, your head is turned away from him, neck on full display. Your boxer shorts are in a bit of disarray and Heisenberg can see where your happy trail leads down to your groan.

He moves quietly, not wanting to wake you up as he slowly pulls down your underwear. Your legs attempt to close due to the sudden cold air that hits your exposed lower half, but he holds them open. You turn you head again, brows furrowed in slight discomfort. Heisenberg decided to help you, leaning down to take you into his mouth, sheltering you from the cold. But now you struggle with another dilemma as he sucks at your clit, swirling it around in his mouth.You wake finally to the older man in between you legs, lapping at you, desperate to feel you release on his tongue. Your moan is rough, muffled by your tiredness, reaching out to pull at his hair. Karl holds your legs down as he proceeds, making you cum on his face. You whimper between hurried breathing, pushing him away as he begin to overestimate you. He pulls away from you, meeting your eyes with a mischievous grin.

"Hello, sleepyhead."

#ftm reader #smut #trans reader #transmasc reader #karl heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #gn reader #gender nuetral reader

356 notes · View notes

ilovedonnabeneviento · 9 months

Text

FLASH WARNING

Karl really thought "I can change him 🥺"

#karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg #resident evil heisenberg #lord heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #donna beneviento and angie #salvatore moreau #re8 lords #ethan winters re8 #ethan x heisenberg #ethan winters #mother miranda x y/n #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda

306 notes · View notes

margaretoakgrove · 6 months

Text

Duke, you, Heisenberg: *hanging out together in the safe room of the Dimitrescu castle, enjoying the thought that even lady Dimitrescu herself cannot come in and kick you out of there*.

Alcina: *fiercely knocking at the safe room door, knowing that the three of you are inside* You miscreants, let me in! LET ME IN!!!

#resident evil 8 #resident evil 8 village #resident evil village #re8 #re8 village #re village #Lord Heisenberg #Karl Heisenberg #Heisenberg #House Heisenberg #Lord Heisenberg x reader #Karl Heisenberg x reader #Heisenberg x reader #Lord Heisenberg x you #Karl Heisenberg x you #Heisenberg x you

335 notes · View notes

geekyarmorel · 1 year

Text

Re8 characters and how they react to a sick reader who also demand cuddles.

Alcina:

When realizes that you're sick she engages 'mom' mode.

Instantly puts you in bed.

Refuses to let you get up.

Has all sorts of juice, water, and soups sent to you.

Does whatever she needs to done quickly so she can be by your side.

Offers to read to you.

Sits by the bed and reads to you.

Blushes softly when you snuggle over close to her as possible.

When she goes to leave she brushes your hair out of your face.

You sleepily ask her "Hold me?"

Her heart melts and she says "Of course draga mea, anything you want."

Slowly she eases herself in beside you trying to not disturb you.

When you snuggle into her side she almost turns into a puddle from melting at how sweet it was.

Absolutely refuses to part with you the remainder of your sickness

Donna:

At the first sign of you being sick she immediately starts making medicinal tea.

Has the dolls guide you to bed while she works on making soup for you.

Makes sure you have plenty of blankets because she knows the house can get a little drafty at times.

Dotes on you, making sure you always have water or something warm to drink.

She knows you like hearing her sing (rare that it is) so she sits by your bed and sings a soft lullaby to you.

It's one her mother sung to her as a young child.

She's not for sure when her hand found yours and your fingers intertwined.

Goes to let go and get some more water for you in case you wake up and need some.

When she starts to pull her hand from yours it wakes you up enough for you to whine out "No. Stay, cuddle."

Donna's face nearly combusts.

Her heart aches for you and decides she will cuddle you.

Carefully slides herself in beside you, trying to give you space.

You stir just a little and she calms you down.

"It's okay cara mea. Sleep now."

She scoots just a little closer and puts her arm over you to hold you.

Melts when you curl against her and fall back asleep.

Rests with you for a long time only leaving once you wake up so she could bring you more soup.

Heisenberg:

It took him a little bit to realize you were sick

But as soon as he realized he grumbled "Get to bed dumbass."

Once you were in bed he gave you a glass of water before going back to work.

He worked for a while before his gut said to check on you.

When he checked on you, you were shivering and running a high fever.

"I'm cold." You whine and that's when he knew it was bad.

If you were cold in his factory.....fuck that wasn't good at all.

He won't say he worriedly called Donna, he'll absolutely deny he was worried.

Donna knew he was though as he asked her for medicine and some kind of soup for you.

She had it ready that afternoon and he quickly picked it up before coming back to you.

"Hey wake up kid." He said, his voice a bit rough. "Take your medicine."

You resisted at first but when he pulled you into his lap you immediately gave in.

Once you took it he tried to put you down but you clung to him.

"Cuddle me, please?"

He gives in and slips you and him in the bed after kicking off his boots and removing his hat and sunglasses.

Will later refuse to admit he snuggled you close and played with your hair to lull you to sleep.

Also refuses to admit that it made him happy to take care of you after all you've done to take care of him.

And when you run to vomit he holds your hair out of your face if needed.

"I got you. Had some of these days myself, of course I was really drunk but still."

Mother Miranda:

Oh when she realized you were sick she almost had a panic attack.

It made her think of how her little Eva got sick and never recovered.

She was terrified of losing you as well.

Even though she never showed how nervous she was on the outside, inside she was scared to death.

"Go to bed, I can do this myself."

You honestly thought you made her mad by being sick since she didn't show much emotion.

Getting in bed you sniffled, trying not to cry.

Miranda found she couldn't work because all she could think of was you and being worried.

She gave up and went to the kitchen, fixing a bowl of your favorite soup.

She also procured some medicine for you to take.

When entering your room she noticed you had been crying.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry I'm sick and I can't help you bring back Eva." You answer, refusing to look at her.

Miranda sets down the bowl on your nightstand.

"You don't need to apologize. Your health is important to me, we need to take care of you so when we get our Eva back we can be there for her."

You felt better and sat up in bed, letting her sit by you and hand you your soup.

After eating and taking your medicine you laid down to rest, when noticing Miranda was about to leave you reached out and asked "Don't leave me, stay and cuddle me?"

Miranda practically melted on the inside, laying down in a comfortable position she curled her wings around you to the best of her abilities.

Cue you falling asleep in a cocoon of soft feathers.

Miranda eventually slips out to grab some work before coming back and slipping beside you once again.

She won't admit it but later she presses three sweet and tender kisses to your forehead before curling herself up with you and finding sleep herself.

520 notes · View notes

ilywrites · 1 month

Text

KARL HEISENBERG GENERAL HEADCANNONS

A/N - Finally got enough energy to actually finish something! I keep writing then disliking it and starting over again. I’ll eventually be posting more Heisenberg content along with Astarion or Gale. 👀 Enjoy!!

Warnings: None!

———

- He cant sleep with a blanket on, like it literally would make him sweat to no end.

- You both would wake up to a pool of sweat if he did.

- Even if it’s cold outside, he stays warm. He’s like your own personal heater.

- So because of that he usually winds up being your blanket instead of using the actual one.

- Whether he is laying on you or you’re curled up in his arms. He is always whats keeping you warm.

- I also think he would like it whenever you sit in his lap.

- It makes him feel loved, plus he likes holding you.

- Speaking of which, he would totally carry you around the factory if you were too tired to walk.

- It’s time to go to bed? Say you’re too tired to go upstairs and boom he’s already carrying you.

- It’s no problem to him at all, i mean he carries a big ass hammer around he can carry you too.

- If you ever say something about being too heavy he’d reassure you that you aren’t.

- Though i don’t think he’d be amazing at reassuring, or words in general.

- He could show you he loves you through actions any day. But words? Probably not as much.

- He just doesn’t know how to, he barely knows how to love someone more or less tell them how much he does.

- If you really needed it though, he would try his hardest to tell you.

- I also believe he would bring little trinkets to you, maybe something he made or something he found lying around.

- He would brush it off as nothing but always stare and make sure you liked it.

- “If you don’t like it then too bad”

- This man would be the most stubborn person to deal with honestly.

- If you tried to tear him away from work to sleep or rest, he would either leave then go back after 5 minutes.

- Or he would just say no and ignore your persistence.

- All in all he is trying to be the best person he can be for you, he just needs time to do so.

#fluff #karl heisenberg #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #karl re8 #re8 heisenberg #lord heisenberg #resident evil heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #re8 x reader #re8 village #karl heisenburg x reader #karl resident evil #resident evil

85 notes · View notes

cedarsmoke4 · 3 months

Text

Okay my writing brain is simultaneously extremely exhausted/borderline burnt-out and also working on several different ideas at once, so there’s a HOT chance I’ll never get to this concept, but I’m writing/rambling the (extended) idea here so it’s out there—

Consider: You’ve repeatedly had terrible luck with auto mechanics, to the point where you’re absolutely desperate for genuine help. You’re sick of having to fight through the hoards of lying salesmen who are trying to trick you into paying exorbitant prices just because they can tell you’re not car-savvy. You want someone who doesn’t even look at your face, someone who can just figure out what the fuck is going on with your vehicle and can fix it for a reasonable price. That’s it.

Cue your friend telling you that they’ve heard from a friend of a friend who’s heard of someone, a reliable source tho, that there’s a guy who can fix anything, and fix it fast. He’s just weird. And abrasive. And rude. He doesn’t sugar coat or extort, and he barely even pays attention to you if you bring him something. The problem is, he doesn’t have a phone, and he doesn’t work specific hours, or even specific days. Also, his shop is in the middle of nowhere. If you go there you’ll just have to hope you catch him, and if you don’t, sucks to be you.

So you take the address from your friend and drive your shitbox down increasingly abandoned looking country roads until you arrive at what looks like a very large, run down garage. Scrap metal litters the yard outside, everything from old iron bathtubs to what looks like the shell of an ancient military tank. Youre desperate enough at this point that you’re willing to risk the potential rabid serial killer who might live at such a place, and you knock on the door as instructed.

You’re in luck—someone grunts out a curse from inside and drops what sounds like a steel suitcase full of metal door knobs. More clattering, then you hear the mystery mechanic yell, “come in!” You contemplate turning back, but no such luck. Your car has been making the worst noises lately, and the entire last mile to this place it was screeching bloody murder.

So you go inside. It’s dark and there’s metal everywhere, including piled up on the wooden crates that look like they might be a makeshift front counter. The cash register balances precariously on top seems convincing enough.

You nervously say, “hello?” toward the darkness through the door in the ramshackle wall, but there’s no reply. Then, lights flick on in the back room, and you hear very heavy footsteps stomping toward you.

“Cash only,” a rasping voice snaps from behind a pile of scrap nearby. You flinch, but you came prepared, so you yank a wad of bills from your jacket and slap them down on the teetering crates. Be short and to the point, you remind yourself. He doesn’t like ramblers.

“My car is fucked,” you blurt out. “Heard you can fix it.”

Silence follows your words, then a figure emerges from behind the mountains of metal. It’s a man—an extremely tall and broad man with shaggy, disheveled gray hair. You’re struck for a moment by what he’s wearing, curious about the choices he’d made while picking out his work ensemble. Usually mechanics wore coveralls to keep the mess from staining their clothes, but this man is dressed in a plain white t-shirt and jeans, both carelessly smeared with oil, dirt, and rust. What really confuses you, though, is the pair of dark, round sunglasses settled on the bridge of his nose. How can he see in this shitty, dim lighting?

He really doesn’t look at you as he moves forward, his gaze apparently already trained on the part of your car that’s visible through the outside doorway. You’d forgotten to close the door. The man doesn’t seem to mind, though. He passes you without so much as a glance, then leans against the door frame and starts muttering to himself, still apparently focused on your vehicle.

“Haven’t seen you around before,” the man remarks suddenly, turning his shoulders slightly toward you without actually looking at you. You jump, having been convinced he’d forgotten you were standing there.

“I had no other choice,” you say, then you bite your lip. You’d been surprised into blunt honesty, something you would’ve preferred to avoid. Instead of seeming offended, however, the man lets out a raspy, barking laugh.

“Well aren’t you just the smartest little cookie that’s waltzed into my shop in ages,” he drawls, the words making you bristle with anger. He finally turns back toward you, taking a few steps closer, and—much to your rapidly rising displeasure—he looks you straight in the face. His gaze, while hidden behind the dark glasses, is almost tangible as it rakes over your features. Goosebumps ripple down your arms. You’re pinned under his invisible gaze, suddenly terrified. You really shouldn’t have come here.

The cash register behind you makes a very loud dinging sound, and you nearly start out of your skin.

“Alright. I’ll fix your car, little cookie crumb,” the man says, moving past you to pick up the stack of bills you’d put on the crate. “You can wait in here.” He doesn’t even count the money before shoving it into his back pocket. You’re frozen again, insulted beyond belief by the incredibly patronizing nickname he’s given you but relieved nearly to the point of tears that he’s willing to work on your vehicle. The man apparently doesn’t notice your conflicted state. He walks toward the back room, then pauses in the doorway to send you one final glance over his shoulder.

“Don’t bother me while I’m working,” he drawls, and you see a flash of a strangely silvery-green eye behind the dark glasses as he turns back around. “If you disrupt my process, you’ll regret it dearly.”

——————————

Cue shenanigans, you peek and see that he’s telekinetically manipulating metal, then he catches you and sexy shenanigans happen—extra plus if you’ve got a septum ring, which I do so I’m giving this reader one too lmao😂😂

#karl heisenberg #x reader #re8 #resident evil village #heisenberg x reader #ficlet #modern au #cedar scribbles #listen I probably won’t ever finish this but maybe I will #basically I’m not promising anything but also I love the vibes already so #it might happen #might not #we shall see #also I did not edit this so #pardon the mistakes lmao

64 notes · View notes