levvthan

[levvthan]

the grand event. | karl heisenberg x f! reader

NSFW CONTENT BELOW - MDNI Ao3 link → click here

words: 5,958

summary: Miranda insisted on having Lady Dimitrescu host a gala at her castle so that the lords could strengthen relations with outsiders. Living with Heisenberg in his factory often left you feeling isolated, so you nagged at him to bring you along. Hesitant at first, he agreed, unaware of the events to come.

!! content: smut with plot, daddy kink, use of alcohol, jealousy, foreplay, semi-public, established relationship

"But Karl! You never let me go out!" you whined, fingers toying with the edge of the table as you pleaded.

Sat across from you, Karl’s expression remained unbothered. Casually tinkering away with a piece of machinery, seemingly growing bored of your persistence.

"I let you go out all the time, darling," he mumbled, eyes fixed on the heap of scrap scattered across the tabletop.

You huffed at his response, “Hardly,” pushing yourself up from the chair and making your way toward the window. “Going for a walk around the village doesn’t count, it’s boring and you never let me go alone.” 

You gazed longingly through the grimy windowpane, your eyes fixed on the snowy mountains beyond, their towering peaks stood tall, isolating you from the world beyond.

“Quit your whining. You know full well why I can't let you go out by yourself,” Karl replied, now growing agitated. You’d had this conversation several times before.

“But this event Dimitrescu’s hosting sounds like so much fun! I want to go somewhere other than the village, and you’ll be with me the whole time!” you persisted, hoping he'd finally give in.

Karl had mentioned that Mother Miranda had tasked Lady Dimitrescu with hosting a ‘grand gathering’ at her castle, something about how the lords needed to foster new connections with outsiders.

You’d never met Lady Dimitrescu in person, but you’d heard enough about her to form an opinion, or at least try to. Truthfully, you weren’t sure what to think. According to Karl, she was a ‘disgustingly lavish, stuck up witch. However, Karl disliked many people.

When you’d asked if anyone could attend, Karl had told you yes, though he quickly regretted it, as it seemed to spark your endless excitement, and now, it was all you could talk about. You were all too desperate to experience a change of scenery.

“How many times do I have to tell you? No, it’s too dangerous.” Karl replied coldly, not even sparing you a glance through his tinted glasses.

Your brows furrowed in frustration, now gazing beyond the mountains, your fingers toyed with your necklace. Both of you had been going back and forth for a while now, and the rising irritation inside shortly began to bubble to the surface.

After a moment of still silence, you burst out, "Please! Please Karl this factory is driving me insane!" You snapped your head from the window. “Just please let me come with you!”

Suddenly, an ear piercingly loud clatter of metal struck the table and brought your rebuttal to a halt. Your heart skipped a beat as you flinched, clinging to your necklace. 

Karl took off his glasses swiftly, and his eyes finally met yours. His gaze pierced right through you and his expression contorted in anger, you gulped.

“And you’re driving me fucking insane!” Karl shouted, his voice booming through the factory's upper level, “I don’t even want to go as it is! That colossal two faced bitch’s only gonna piss me off!”

Instinctively, your brain flipped a switch. You knew better than to continue arguing when he was worked up.

Sheepishly, you turned back to the window, the cold glass offering no comfort as you tried to collect yourself. After living with him for years, you thought you’d grown immune to the intensity of his shouting, but sometimes it still managed to cut through you. 

A tense silence hung in the air. Karl’s eyes swept over your solemn figure. He knew how isolated you were, how much you yearned, but it was the sacrifice you’d willingly made when you agreed to stay in this twisted place, with him in his factory.

Nevertheless, it still pained Karl that you chose to live like this just to stay by his side, and he wished he could give you more. 

A loud screech of his chair scraping against the floor cut through, followed by the heavy thud of his boots as he made his way toward you.

Hesitantly, a deep grumble escaped Karl’s lips, as he pulled you into a hug from behind. His long, messy grey hair cascaded over your shoulder, brushing against your skin all too familiarly. 

The embrace caught you off guard. But as the warmth of his body moulded against yours, the steady rise and fall of his breath settled around you, and the tension eased.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” he grumbled, “If it really means that much to you,” his hug tightened ever so slightly, “you can come.”

Immediately your eyes widened with excitement as his words sparkled up your mood, “Really?”

“Yes, but on one condition,” Karl raised his finger, “No wandering off like a lost puppy, alright? I don’t want a repeat of last time.”  

You were completely lost for words for a moment. After knowing Karl this long, you’d never gotten him to change his mind, not once.

Karl squeezed your shoulders, still in his embrace, “Do you promise?”

“Oh thank you! Thank you! Of course I promise!” you beamed, turning around to face him.

Karl gently caressed your cheek, his calloused fingertip tracing the curve of your soft skin. You meant so much to him, he just hoped that he could keep you safe. 

“Good girl,” he praised warmly, casting his worries aside, “Besides, I could use the company.”

“Yeah, and I could help you keep your temper in check!” 

“What temper?”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

After a few weeks, the anticipated day of the grand event finally arrived.

Leading up to it, you had articulately spent hours debating which outfit to wear and which jewellery to match it with.

However, you were now regretting your choice. The journey up to Castle Dimitrescu was a strenuous trek, and you’d forgotten to bring a jacket.

By the time you arrived at the castle gate, your legs had already begun to ache, making each step feel heavier than the last. The cold nibbling away at your bare skin hadn’t helped either. 

Karl had to lend you his trench coat, more out of irritation than kindness if his grumbling was anything to go by. Your constant complaints hadn’t helped, but you were no match for the winter snow.

Then, you’d only made it halfway up the slope when your steps faltered. Staggering, a gust of icy wind practically punched you in the face, and you gripped the railing for balance, terrified of losing your grip.

“You sure you’re still up for this darlin’?” Karl chuckled from atop the steps way ahead of you, his eyes gleaming as he watched you climb your way up.

The wind carried the smoke from his cigar away, the scent lingering in the air as he took another slow puff as he waited. 

You huffed defeatedly, standing still in place as you caught your breath.

“Oh come on princess, the gates right there!” Karl pointed as he teased, “Or do you wanna go back home?” 

Gasping, you pushed to quicken your pace. 

Slowly but surely, you began to catch up, your lungs burning with the effort. Karl, on the other hand, was deeply entertained. It baffled you how unaffected he seemed by the cold, striding ahead without so much as a jacket.

He looked down at you with that all too familiar irritating smirk as you reached the top. Though, soon enough he offered you his hand, and with a firm grip, you clasped it in your own, the warmth of his touch offered a piece of serenity.

You both made your way into Castle Dimitrescu and handed Karl his jacket back. Then, immediately, a gasp escaped your lips.

The entrance hall was nothing like you’d ever seen before. Adorned with glittering ornaments, rich red cloth draped over the windows, the orange candlelight casting an orange glow, the room sparkled with beauty.

Karl scoffed as he noticed your awe, “Don’t let her fool you,” whispering, “This castle’s nothing more than a blood hungry slaughterhouse.”

“Way to ruin the mood,” You slapped his shoulder and rolled your eyes playfully.

You knew what went on in the shroud depths of the castle. Everyone in the village knew not many people who stepped foot in this place made it out alive. But you didn’t seem to care all that much, you were affiliated with Heisenberg afterall. 

The two of you travelled amongst the corridors, and soon entered the main hall, and it was just as grand, if not more so, than the entrance hall.

Once again, a gasp escaped your lips. Gold trim lined the walls and the opulent interior seemed to stretch endlessly. Guests were scattered throughout, their murmurs blending with the soft music from a nearby vinyl player, adding a refined atmosphere… one that clearly wasn’t to Karl’s tastes. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Karl grimaced, his face twisting with disgust as his grip slipped from your hand.

He quickly relit his cigar, taking a long much needed drag. He had always hated how extravagant Dimitrescu was, the fakeness of it all rubbed him the wrong way.

However, you brushed off Karl’s antics and wandered deeper into the grand hall, hoping to spot Lady Dimitrescu herself. But she was nowhere in sight.

Instead, your eyes landed on something else. A large buffet table, covered in shiny silver trays and food that looked almost too expensive to eat.

“Can we -” you began, glancing over your shoulder to speak to Karl, but your words died in your throat as a tall, imposing figure stepped into view, her presence darkening the space like a storm cloud.

“Ah! Heisenberg’s little beloved, how cute ,” Lady Dimitrescu purred, her presence now known. “It’s a wonder to finally meet you in the flesh, dear.” 

She leaned down slowly, bringing her face level with yours, eye to eye. Her gaze swept over you as if she were sizing you up and her smile widened, lips painted in crimson lipstick. Then, with one long, gloved finger… boop .

The gesture was light, almost playful, but coming from her, you blinked. Completely bewildered, unsure whether to laugh or flinch.

"Say," she hummed, "That disgusting factory surely is no place for a woman like yourself.” Her presence was nothing short of intimidating, forcing you to wear a polite smile.

“Oh, my wonderful sister, thank you so much for hosting this… splendid banquet ,” Karl butted in mockingly, stepping in between you and Lady Dimitrescu, you silently thanked him as you latched onto his arm in a link.

With an air of unbothered elegance, Lady Dimitrescu raised her cigarette holder to her lips, taking a slow, deliberate puff, the smoke swirling around her as she regarded him with a scowl.

“But of course, how could I not invite my little brother?” she cooed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I see you’ve prepared for the occasion, your usual… four-odour scent is far less distinct this evening.” 

“Oh, perfect, charming as ever,” Karl scoffed bitterly, “Looks like you tried to sculpt your face out of marble, but it’s coming off more like cracked porcelain.”

Suddenly, the air was enveloped in tension as their bickering began, each petty insult fueled the next. The last thing you wanted was to be caught in the crossfire if things took a turn for the worse. You knew how quickly an argument involving Karl could escalate.

Slowly, you eased your arm from his, seizing the moment of his distraction to slip away. You weren’t breaking your promise if you stayed in the same room as him, right? 

As you moved through the grand hall, you allowed yourself to take in the elegant surroundings, the shining chandelier, richly decorated walls. Despite what you knew about Castle Dimitrescu, its beauty on the surface was undeniable.

You approached the buffet you were eager to try. However, as you approached, you failed to notice a shift in the rug beneath your feet.

Within an instant you stumbled, your body raced forwards, but before you could hit the ground, you were caught, a strong arm steadying you with ease.

“Woah! Steady there,” an unfamiliar voice chuckled, as the presence quickly helped you upright. “I know the food’s good, but damn, no need to dive for it like that.”

Glancing up, a man with golden blonde hair and striking eyes stood before you, his gaze both amused and slightly concerned. He was dressed in a sleek white suit, its sharp lines accentuated by a royal blue tie that added a pop of colour.

“Thank you,” you breathed a sigh of relief. “You saved me from a whole lot of embarrassment.”

“Glad I could be of service, madam,” he said with a slight accent, his overly polite tone making you cringe just a little.

Though, before you could slip away, you watched as he swirled the contents of his glass, the sparkling liquid caught your eye. Your saviour then outstretched his hand, offering a confident smile. “Andrei Bernat,”

“Nice to meet you.” 

It was painfully obvious that Andrei was an outsider. Everyone from the village already knew of your connection to Heisenberg, and, to be honest, most were afraid, even though you were just an ordinary woman. Meeting someone who had no idea felt foreign.

“So,” Andrei began, “What brings such a beautiful woman to Castle Dimitrescu this evening?” 

You stood there for a beat. As charming as Andrei was, your gaze drifted to where Karl and Lady Dimitrescu had been arguing, only to see they were still at it, now with a small crowd gathered around them.

“Oh, I just needed to get out, really,” you exclaimed, snapping your attention back to the man in front of you, a slight shrug accompanying your words. “A change of scenery.”

Andrei hummed thoughtfully, swirling his wine glass before taking another sip. "Interesting," he muttered, his eyes never leaving you, as if he were pondering something beneath the surface.

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate.

“A change of scenery? Is that all?” 

“Yes,” you chuckled lightly, your thoughts briefly flickering back to the factory, but you knew better than to bring that up with an outsider. “Well, what brings you here?”

“Ah, I’m glad you asked,” Andrei said with a touch of pride, adjusting his tie with one hand. “I own a small brewery, nothing too extravagant.” 

You nodded along as Andrei delved into a lengthy monologue about his trade.

Meanwhile, a server passed by with a tray of wine, you plucked a glass without hesitation and took a sip. Karl would never let you drink, but with his attention elsewhere, this felt like the perfect opportunity.

Amidst your conversation, across the hall, Lady Dimitrescu and Karl's exchange of petty insults had lost its spark. 

The verbal sparring had caught the attention of a few nearby guests, much to Karl’s displeasure. 

“Run along before you embarrass yourself further,” Dimitrescu sneered, casting him a condescending smirk.

Karl grumbled, flicking his cigar to the floor. He stomped on it harshly, mushing it into the marble floor, leaving a small ashy stain. A gasp left Lady Dimitrescu’s lips, and he stormed off, eager to put some distance between himself and their little show.

It was only then, as he moved away, that he realized he’d completely forgotten about you.

Karl’s brows furrowed in confusion, and his head snapped to the side, expecting to see you standing just behind him. But his eyes widened with growing alarm as he realized you were nowhere to be found. Shit .

The first thing that flashed through his mind was the possibility that it was Dimitrescus doing, taking advantage of his distraction. He knew all too well that his ‘sister’ would do anything to make his existence even more unbearable.

However, his worries soon vanished, as he heard the all too familiar sound of your laugh. His eyes darted in the direction, taking a step closer, only to be halted in his tracks.

You were still talking with Andrei, and it seemed to have taken a lively turn, taking another sip from your wine as he rambled on about something else. However, you soon noticed that your glass had quickly rendered empty and that you could use a refill.

Glancing up, you scanned the room for another server. However, Karl's eyes clicked with yours from across the hall. 

You stumbled slightly, quickly setting the empty glass down on the buffet table. “I have to go,” you said hurriedly, the words spilling out.

“What?” Andrei asked, confused, but you were already walking away before he could get an answer.

You swiftly made your way over to Karl, half expecting a scolding, but instead, a lazy smile played on your lips as his face came into view. “How was your chat with the witch ?” you teased, mimicking Karl’s gruff tone.

Karl’s eyes narrowed as he scanned you up and down, “Did you wander off? Didn’t I tell you not to?”

You giggled softly, blinking as you tried to focus. “I know how you get when you’re angry... I didn’t wanna get caught in it, not here.”

Karl’s jaw clenched at your bluntness, but then his gaze snapped to Andrei. “Who’s that? Why’s he staring at you like that?”

You squinted through the haze and glanced where he pointed. “He’s an outsider… some businessman, something about beer.”

Karl sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Though, his eyes softened when they met yours. “Just stay beside me, would you?”

He offered you his arm, and you linked yours with his, feeling a comforting warmth spread through your chest. Karl glanced at you, noticing your unsteady stance. “And don’t think I don’t notice you’re drunk,”

You smiled sheepishly, cheeks flushed. “Maybe a little,” you admitted, leaning in closer to steady yourself.

Together, you wandered through the hall, the wine settling in heavier with each step. You were indeed a lightweight, and soon, you began to stumble over your own feet.

Seeing this, Karl gently guided you to a nearby sofa tucked into a somewhat quiet corner within the grand hall, helping you sit down before you could fall.

But then, “Excuse me,” a voice from behind called out, which you barely registered.

Karl turned around toward a small group of men who had approached. “Heisenberg? The factory owner?” one of them asked.

Karl’s lips curled into a faint smile as he sized them up. “Who’s asking?”

You shifted slightly on the end of the sofa as the small group settled around you, each person finding a seat. Karl sank down beside you, his arm brushing against yours.

Time slipped by in a blur. You weren’t really listening to the conversation, something about business. Still, you could tell Karl was enjoying himself for once.

His voice grew more lively, gestures bigger, and every now and then, a booming laugh would erupt from his chest. Each time it did, you jumped out of your skin, your heart skipping a beat from the sudden burst of noise.

But then came a loud, sharp clap. 

You side eyed Karl in quiet annoyance, your brows furrowing as if to say, really? But then, you felt his arm brush lightly against yours again, and the irritation melted into something warmer.

From the corner of your eye, you watched him closely. He was genuinely entertained and immersed in conversation with people who seemed interested in his trade. It was rare to see him like this, lively and relaxed.

Then, your gaze dropped. There was something about the way he sat, legs spread comfortably, one arm draped across the back of the sofa, his fingers tapping absently as he spoke. That quiet, rough confidence he carried without even trying.

The way his voice rumbled when he laughed, the subtle twitch in his jaw when he grinned, every little detail drew your eyes like a magnet.

Your gaze lingered too long, on his hands, his face, the way his shirt sat a little too open near the collar. You swallowed, feeling hot, and your thoughts drifted far from the party around you. The wine wasn’t helping, nor was the way your thigh seemed to lean naturally etch closer to him.

Then, his voice cut through your daze, as he whispered amidst the surrounding conversation. “You’re quiet.”

You glanced up at him, “Just... watching you talk like you actually like people for once.”

He raised a brow, the corner of his mouth curling upwards, as he hid his eyes with the brim of his hat. “Careful. Keep looking at me like that and I’ll forget we’re in public.”

You laughed under your breath, eyes flicking back to the crowd within the hall. “So don’t.”

He hummed in amusement, leaning just a little closer. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.”

He turned back to the conversation, but without breaking the rhythm, his fingers brushed lightly against your leg, just a whisper of touch, but enough to send a shiver through you. 

Karl’s fingers gingerly slid a little higher along your thigh, he didn’t say a word. The voices and laughter carried on, oblivious to the quiet game unfolding beside them.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath as he began to trace slow circles against your skin. Your fingers twitched, almost reaching to touch him back, but you hesitated, not wanting to draw attention. 

He continued the slow, teasing motion on your thigh. However, his hand withdrew abruptly, one of the men had asked a question, pulling his attention back.

You masked your irritation with a faint smile, though now, a fire was burning inside you. You waited, and waited, longing for his touch to return, but it didn’t. He could tell you were growing restless, and that only seemed to amuse him.

However, your impatience got the better of you. You edged closer, moving subtly, searching for a brief moment. That’s when your eyes caught sight of Andrei again.

Andrei approached the group, drawing everyone’s attention, and introduced himself. The others stood to shake his hand, but Karl remained seated.

And then, like a predator sweeping in to capture its prey,  you seized the opportunity and slipped your hand onto his inner thigh as your fingertips ghosted above his lap.

Karl’s eyes flickered down to your hand as he wavered, he played off his surprised gasp with another drag from his cigar.

Quickly, his hand reached for your knee, and he tightened his grip to shake you off, urging you to behave. 

You pulled your hand away when you noticed Andrei again, slipping onto the sofa beside you with a familiar smile, it seemed that he’d been welcomed into the conversation.

But then… a bold little idea crept in.

“Andrei,” You greeted, turning your attention away from Karl, “Sorry for running off like that.”

Andrei offered a lopsided smile. “Don’t worry about it.” He said, tilting his head. “You always run off when things get too stuffy?”

“Only when I’ve had too much wine,” you replied charmingly.

His smile widened, “Well, you still seem sharp to me.”

From the corner of your eye, you caught Karl still mid conversation, until he wasn’t. His voice cut off, and you could feel the weight of his stare. He’d noticed. Good.

You felt Karl’s hand settle on your knee once again, but this time you paid it no mind. Then, his arm slid deliberately over your shoulder, a familiar claim, but you brushed it off casually, refusing to give him the reaction he sought.

You kept talking with Andrei, carefully choosing your words while Karl listened quietly. Each sentence transpired into something deeper, one flirtatious remark leading to another, and you could feel Karl’s frustration growing with each passing moment until finally, he snapped. 

You winced, eyes widening as he gripped your arm tightly. “Get up,” Karl growled, hauling you to your feet. The crowd around you seemed to stop talking as they caught sight of the scene unfolding. He pulled you close. “You think you’re smart, don’t you?”

And with the force of a stampeding bull, Karl soon dragged you away.  “Karl - ow! Let go, you’re hurting me!” you protested, but didn’t once try to free yourself from his grip.

His pace quickened, and you struggled to keep up as he hurried forward. Your heart pounded, a rush of excitement warming your stomach. His grey hair swayed with every step, eyes locked straight ahead as he led you away from the crowd.

You’d found yourself entering a dimly lit room, far from the hall. Suddenly, Karl’s grip slipped as he cornered you, bringing his cigar to his lips, he took one last puff before casually discarding it onto the floor.

Your breath hitched as you looked up at him, just as he closed the remaining distance, pinning you against the wall.

The all too familiar scent of smoke clung to his coat, wrapping around you as his breath ghosted over your skin. His face inched closer, his eyes unshielded as he slid off his glasses and tucked them into his pocket.

"Why’d you do that? Flirting with that asshole?" his voice low, slightly above a whisper, as his beard brushed against your neck.

You blinked, batting your lashes up at his towering frame, “He came onto me,” you replied breathlessly, every inch of your body reacting heatedly to his touch.

His knee nudged closer between your thighs, scoffing.

“You’re never patient, are you?” Karl muttered, “First, you beg me to bring you along… promise me you’ll behave.”

Slowly, his hand drifted upward, fingers trailing along your jaw until they settled beneath your chin. He tilted your face toward him. You couldn’t look away, even if you wanted to.

“Do you think I enjoy watching you flirt with other men?” 

You shifted, trying to pull away, but his grip only tightened, holding your face firmly in place. The resistance, the dominance, it made your pulse beat faster.

“Ah ah,” he caught your attempt to wriggle free. “Answer me.”

Your palms flattened against his chest, feeling his body beneath the fabric. The space between you had all but disappeared, leaving only a thin gap.

“No,” you breathed, your voice barely holding steady.

“That's right,” he whispered, tilting your chin up with a rough brush of his fingers. “This pretty face is all mine.”

The hand at your jaw slid slowly, deliberately, to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair with a firm grip. “You drive me insane.” 

But, before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was messy, his mouth moved hungrily over yours, devouring every sound you made. One of his hands pressed at your lower back, pulling you flush against him, the other anchoring your chin, keeping you locked in place.

You clutched at his coat for balance, knees weak from the force of it all. His kiss deepened, tongue teasing, demanding, and you gave in, melting against him like wax. He growled softly against your mouth, lips parting just enough to steal your breath before diving in again.

When he finally pulled back, only slightly, you opened your mouth to urge him for more, but the look in his eyes told you there was no need.

Before you could react, he scooped you up with ease, making you gasp, as you gripped onto him. He carried you swiftly and lowered both of you onto a nearby sofa. You landed on his lap, straddling him, breath caught in your throat from the sudden shift.

His hands roamed, one at your waist, the other sliding down your thigh. His mouth found yours again, hungrier now, as if kissing you was the only way to stop himself from losing control completely.

But you couldn’t take the teasing anymore. Your fingers worked quickly at his belt, tugging with shaky urgency. He let out a low growl of approval against your lips, his grip tightening on your hips. 

Karl took off his gloves and tossed them aimlessly across the room. He lowered his hand under your skirt, feeling your heat with the palm of his hand. You let out a whimper as he tugged your panties to the side.

You braced yourself, expecting him to slip his finger inside.

However, you pouted your lips as he teased you. His finger tracing, feathering over your clit.

“Stop,” you whined, trying to lower yourself onto his fingers, but his other hand gripped your hips firmly, keeping you hovering just above.

“Beg,” he ordered, voice like gravel.

You squirmed in his lap, refusing at first, shaking your head as you grew flustered. But he didn’t budge, and his expression was devastatingly smug.

Then, slowly, he began to pull his hand away.

Panic flickered in your chest. Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist. “Wait -”

“Ah ah,” he murmured, eyes glinting. “Beg, or you get nothing.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, heat rising in your cheeks. “Please.”

He scoffed, leaning in close, lips brushing your ear. “Oh, we both know you can do better than that.”

You both knew the game far too well. And yet, every time, it made you flustered, embarrassingly flustered. However, pride never mattered in the end.

“Please, daddy…” you whispered, barely audible, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Karl leaned in slightly, his attention piqued. “Hm? What was that?”

You buried your face in your hands, the heat in your cheeks blooming fast.

“Daddy, please!” you blurted, your voice muffled behind your fingers.

He chuckled lowly, clearly enjoying how wrecked he had you already. “That’s better,”

He grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t hide from me when you’re the one who started this.”

Before you could reply, his lips crashed against yours once more, tasting every breath you had left. Amidst the kiss, he guided your hand lower, and lower. 

“Feel that?” he growled against your mouth, “That’s what you do to me.”

The friction made your breath hitch, as your hand palmed the tent in his boxers. You whimpered in response, your fingers fumbling as you felt how hard he was.

But before you could even get your hands inside, he beat you to it. He tugged a finger over the waistline, and his cock sprung free. You instinctively gulped as your eyes met his length, his girth.

Your clit pulsated just the same as his cock, already dripping wet, as he grappled your hips and aligned you above. 

Before you could even catch a breath, he slammed his cock deep inside you. The pair of you moaned in unison, as your walls wrapped around his girth, tightening as he nestled himself deeper.

You panted, “Slow down!” A bead of sweat ran down your forehead as you strained, knowing how feral Karl got when he was amped up like this. 

Stifling moans, you didn’t even need to bounce up and down. Karl pumped his cock in and out, slamming his hips against you, as he fucked you endlessly. The heat in your abdomen was already tightening, as you gripped at his shoulders for balance. 

“Please, it’s too much!” You cried, the embarrassment of knowing you were already close gnawing at your flushed cheeks. 

“Be a good girl, and take it, you wanted this,” He replied with heavy breath, showing no signs of slowing down. 

He continued to pump himself inside and out, adoring the way you stretched out around his cock. 

“Please, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” You choked out, unable to hold yourself back from the intensity. 

Just like that, you felt his cock twinge inside of you, your words like music to his ears.

But then, amidst your strangled moans and ecstasy, the clack of sharp heels echoed down the hall. 

“I swear, if that man’s out there putting his grubby mitts all over my property, there will be hell to pay.” The voice was sharp and unmistakably familiar.

Your eyes widened, darting towards the door. Panic surged through you as you pushed against Karl’s chest, trying to scramble up. “Karl!”

But he moved faster, and harder.

His arm shot out, locking around your waist, quickly pushing you against him as his other hand clamped firmly over your mouth.

Every inch of you was on fire, your body aching with a wicked mix of anxiety and lust, each feeding into the other. His scent clung to you like a drug, as he continued to fuck you relentlessly.

“What do you mean you haven’t checked the cellar?” Lady Dimitrescu’s tone rang out away down the hall, gradually growing closer, and closer. “Ugh, your incompetence is giving me a headache.”

Your eyes widened even more so, and Karl’s gaze flicked to the door, then back to you. His grip didn��t loosen, not even an inch. If anything, it became firmer, and there was a flicker of something thrilling in his eyes.

You squirmed against Karl, you could feel the deep rise and fall of his rugged breaths. He bit down hard on his lip, suppressing his own noises, but he couldn’t suppress the sound of the constant slapping of skin to skin.

Your face was pressed to the rough fabric of his vest, as his cock continued to pound into you. Everything was blurring, everything sensational. You couldn’t keep yourself from cumming, not like this. 

He could feel you losing your edge, “Fuck,” He growled lowly, gripping your ass tightly as toyed with your plush skin. “Fuck, cum for me.”

And just like that, you shut your eyes tight, as you pulsated around his length as you let yourself go. You moaned as softly as you could into his hand, saliva coating his skin. The sensation kept up, as he continued to fuck into you at a rough pace.

Karls's movements slowed, gradually meeting your wavelength. His beard scratched against your soft skin, as he muffled his mouth by biting into your neck, feeding off your sweet scent.

He removed his hand from your mouth, forcing you deeper onto his cock so that you could take his full load.

You panted and huffed, gaining your breath. You thought he was done as you melted deeper into his grasp, allowing him to breed your cunt. 

However, he was far from finished. 

With a sudden jolt, he pumped into you once more, fucking his load deeper inside of you. You gripped sharply onto his shoulders, and a surprised squeak escaped your lips.

After a few more seconds, he freed his cock from your sensitive cunt. You felt the remainder of his cum dribble out, running down your thigh, partially dripping onto the head of Karl’s cock.

“Fuck,” Karl breathed out heavily, his arms slumping against you as he rested his forehead on your shoulder.

You were too much in a haze to hear the creak from the door as it eased open slightly. The room, heavy with hot sticky heat and breath, went still.

“Hello?” came a voice.

But then, a light tap against your side snapped you from the haze. Your eyes slowly lifted toward the door.

And your heart sank.

Standing there, one brow raised, a glass of wine in hand was Andrei. His eyes met yours, stunned, like a deer caught in headlights.

“…Oh,” Andrei muttered under his breath, unsure if he should look away or say something.

“Fuck off,” Karl grumbled, answering for him, arm still wrapped around your waist. His eyes didn’t even flick to Andrei.

The tense silence shattered as he slammed the door shut, his steps echoing frantically back down the hallway.

“Well,” Karl exhaled, turning his attention back to you, “that oughta teach him not to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

"Karl!" You whined, covering your face in embarrassment. You couldn't believe how outlandish he was, not a care in the world. Whereas, you'd never be able to show your face at Castle Dimitrescu again.

A/N: After re reading this I thought it was rather cringe and the plotline is a literal ASS yapfest. It was taken from a full length fan fic I scrapped, and I remember spending way too much time on it to not at least rework a scene into a oneshot. Been in my drafts for over a year too, jesus.

MASTERLIST

[levvthan]

One of Heisenberg’s kiddo’s inherited his powers?

sorry, it took me a while to get around to this one!

dad! heisenberg headcannons (pt. 3)

♡ realisation

Karl's child was born perfectly healthy, nothing had indicated that they had inherited his Cadou mutation.

That was until five years later. Karl was casually working away in his workshop. Utterly engrossed in his work, but then, he heard an alarmingly loud clatter behind him. He turned around, and his child had knocked over a box of scrap metal atop a nearby shelf.

Before he could get mad, he resorted to confusion instead, as he noticed that the metal had started to float. “What the fuck?”

Suddenly, Karl's wrench flew off his workbench, nearly hitting his child square in the face, before it plummeted into the wall behind them. 

His child collapsed to the floor, breathless. In a panic, Karl rushed over to them. He was confident that it wasn’t himself controlling the metal, so, that’d only leave...

No, it possibly couldn't be his child?

At first, he was angry. Terribly angry - fuming.

He wasn’t angry at his child, but the fact that this mutation had passed onto his kid. How was that even possible? But it happened, and he cursed Miranda for it.

But then, his anger turns into fear. Terrified that it’d destroy his child, that it’d ruin their life, that they'd only be viewed as a monstrosity.

However, within twisted corners of his mind, he soon became proud.

He liked the idea that his child too wielded the same power as him. A superhuman, his bloodline now stronger than ever.

♡ training

Karl set up a training ground for them. ‘The pit’ was what he called it. It was dangerous, full of scrap with sharp edges and god knows what else. 

Karl’s teaching style was… intense… but he tried his best. He’s very hands-on, swears a lot, and takes a few shortcuts here and there. Sometimes he even forgets how young they are, and pushes too far.

“Control first over power,” “Bend this nail without snapping it,” “Stop the gear mid-spin, agh!”

His child had successfully stopped the gear mid-spin, but it’d unfortunately gone flying across the training ground. Safe to say, teaching his child would turn into anger management therapy.

Despite that, he’d never belittle them, never be angry at them, despite his booming tone.

However, sometimes it’d all get too much for his child. They’d slump defeatedly on the floor, metal floating solemnly. But they soon learnt that their father wasn’t doing it to discourage them, he just wanted them to be the very best.

“You think Miranda taught me all this shit? No, I had to claw my way up to this level of control. But you? You have me. Hell, you'll probably be stronger than me in a few years.”

♡ growing up with powers

As his child grows into a teenager, of course, their hormones are all over the place.

Raging hormones + Magnetism = NOT GOOD. Their power becomes tied to their emotions, some for good but more for worse, and Karl has no idea how to deal with it.

They end up not only inheriting their fathers powers, but also his undying rage. A lot of slammed doors end up broken, hanging from their hinges. Many light bulbs shattered, innocent sheets of metal end up crumpled into something unrecognisable.

To channel his child's emotions, Karl would often offer them a sparring match within the training ground. Safe to say, it's very intense.

"You're getting too emotional, kid! You'll get shredded trying to show off like that! Don't let it control you," ... "Say's you." ...

A/N: Sorry if this is a bit short argg I'm literally so busy atm

Requests are OPEN :)

[levvthan]

a fleeting dream. | revenant x reader

SFW CONTENT BELOW Ao3 link → click here

words: 2,019

summary: Revenant couldn't dream, he never could. He tried to recall the last time he had been like you. Human, asleep, nestled in the warmth of a bed, mind at rest. But, that part of his life was so distant now, it was as if it had never existed at all.

!! content: established relationship, fluff?, angst, kissing, dreams, comfort, kaleb cross & mention of his past life, frustration, inner turmoil

Amidst the pillows on your bed, your chest rose and fell as you slumbered in peace. A soft light, the moon shone brightly, slipping through the gap in your curtains. The room was still, filled with nothing but steady silence and the faint hum of something nearby.

Hours had ticked away and Revenant lay beside you, optics fixed on the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep, he never could, whilst you made it look effortlessly easy. 

Each time you slept beside him, he always found himself reminiscing. He tried to recall the last time he had been like you. Human, asleep, nestled in the warmth of a bed, mind at rest. But, that part of his life was so distant now, it was as if it had never existed at all. 

Solemn, he propped himself up on one shoulder, moving carefully so as not to wake you. His eyes glowed brightly, casting a dull orange hue over your skin. You looked so calm.

He reached out gently and raised his metallic hand to your face. He was careful, something he’d never pictured himself being capable of again. His thumb stroked gently across your cheek, mindful not to graze your skin.

A stray lock of hair had fallen over your face, and he brushed it aside. You stirred softly at the touch, shifting just slightly in your sleep. He coiled his fingers backwards.

Small and fragile. One move, just one, and he could end you in an instant. Rip your life away with his bare hands. That’s what he was built for. A weapon. A machine designed to kill. 

But he couldn’t. Not with you.

You didn’t look at him and see what the world saw. You didn’t flinch at his sharp edges or the nasty words he’d hurl at you. Somehow, you saw more. To everyone else, he was only a monster, feared and hated. You spoke to him gently, touched him without fear, let him into your space, your bed, your life. 

So, as he watched over you, he thought and thought. Endlessly trying to make sense of it. Why did you treat him this way? With kindness, with trust. With something that felt like love. He couldn’t offer you real companionship, he wasn’t human, not anymore. You deserved so much better, someone living and breathing.

The wind outside howled lowly, as rain splattered against the windows. And, through the midst of his inter turmoil, “Kaleb?” he heard you whisper out to him.

Kaleb.

Through half lidded eyes, you met his gaze. If anyone else saw those piercing optics staring down at them in the dead of night, they’d be screaming in sheer terror. But no, not you. 

Revenant didn’t speak, he only stared. 

Kaleb.

Then, just like before, he stroked your cheek again. You smiled faintly, and slowly slipped your arm out from under the covers and gently placed your hand on his. It was cold, made from steel, a stark contrast compared to your own. 

“Go back to sleep,” Revenant whispered as lowly as he could, but his chassis still rumbled. “I was only watching.”

You brought his hand closer, brushing your lips against the cool metal with a delicate kiss. A gesture so pure, that it made something in him ache in a way he couldn’t name.

His eyes stayed on you as if trying to memorize the feeling. You pulled yourself closer to him, and rested your head against his arm, eyes drifting shut again.

You found a strange comfort in his presence, in silence or not. In the stillness of the night, you felt less alone with him beside you. And, he did too. The thought of being this close to someone the way he is, he’d always figured it’d be impossible. 

“Just try, try to sleep,” you murmured, voice quietly fading. “Even if you’re pretending.”

Revenant stared down at you, unmoving. You were already slipping back into sleep, completely at ease. He let out a sigh, and carefully, he reclined beside you, metal limbs moving with delicacy. He positioned his arm around you, holding you close to his chest.

Then, the glow of his optics faded into darkness, mimicking closed eyes.

He slowed his processes. Reduced his power. Suppressed his systems. He tried to simulate rest. But all that came was stillness. An endless stretch of nothing. No dreams. No peace, thoughts still whirring. Just the quiet tick of his internal mechanisms, and the hushed hum of your breath beside him.

Once again, his mind spiralled, caught in the same loop that haunted him night after night, day after day. 

Forever, he would long that he could be something more for you, only you. He couldn’t even kiss you properly, the touch of real lips on yours. Couldn’t truly feel you, give you the tender touch you most likely craved for. He couldn’t even give you a child. He couldn’t give you anything human, and it added to a long list of why he hated this form, this curse.

So why? Why were you doing this to him? Why didn’t you run and see him for what he was, a monster twisted into metal and fury? 

God, it irritated him. The way you looked at him, the way you touched him like he was something gentle. It crawled in and out of his mind, burned through his circuits, and gnawed at everything hollow inside him.

And yet… if he truly didn’t like it, if he truly wanted to rid himself of your presence, of your unwavering love, he could. He could have silenced you long ago, swiftly and easily. A flick of his wrist, a twist of metal fingers, and you’d be gone.

He pictured it in his mind, what it’d be like killing you. To wrap his fingers around your throat, watch your life drain from your eyes, to finally sever the thread that tied you to him. 

The thought alone should’ve thrilled him. It should’ve stirred that all too familiar satisfaction and glee that came with violence. But instead... it made him sick.

A sudden lurch. And then, the world had dropped out beneath him. That stomach twisting sensation of falling, deep and endless, into a void of darkness with no bottom. 

He couldn’t kill you, why couldn’t he kill you?

“Ah!”

His body jerked upright, eyes snapping open. The room returned, dark and quiet. 

Panic struck him. What’d happened? That sensation he’d just experienced, it as all too foreign. 

He turned sharply, and you remained still, pressed close to him, undisturbed. Your face rested peacefully against the pillow you’d fallen on, the side of his chest no longer offering balance.

But something was wrong. That hadn’t felt like a glitch. It hadn’t felt like anything he'd ever known as a machine.

Before he could make sense of it, the world around him flickered. One blink, and the darkness swallowed him whole again. 

And then… warmth.

He gasped, sharp, sudden, human. Breath. Air filled his lungs. His lungs.

His heart thundered in his chest. Skin. His hands, real human hands, trembling, moved in front of his face, and he stared in disbelief. Flesh. Veins. Calloused fingertips. He turned them over, again and again, as if they’d vanish if he started for too long.

No metal, no sharp edges. No cold plating locking him into a body he never asked for. He looked down, seeing a bare chest rising and falling with each panicked breath. He touched his face, stubble.

He could feel everything. Nothing felt dampened like it did before, and for the first time in centuries, it felt like he was alive .

His gaze quickly flicked to the mirror atop your vanity. He needed to see himself. To confirm that the warmth in his chest, the pulse beneath his skin, was real. That this wasn’t just another cruel trick programmed into his mind.

He shifted carefully, muscles unfamiliar with such a motion, preparing to rise and cross the room. Every movement felt foreign as if he were learning how to move his body all over again. But before he could take a single step, a soft weight pressed against his arm, anchoring him in place.

“Where are you going?” Your voice was light and questioning. It stopped him cold, dead in his tracks.

He looked down to find your eyes half open, fixed on him with a mix of concern and something softer. “Kaleb?”

In that moment, the room felt impossibly small, and yet the space between you felt endless.

For a moment, words failed him, as he looked at you and then at his fingers. “I…” His voice came out rough. “I don’t know.”

You shifted closer, your fingers curling gently around his trembling hand.

His eyes lingered on your face, tracing the gentle curves and soft lines. The comfort of your hand in his was like a spark, igniting something inside him he hadn’t felt in years. His breath hitched, heart pounding.

Without thinking or hesitating, he leaned closer. His lips brushed yours, tentative at first, but growing more certain with every passing second. It was a kiss unlike any he had ever known, filled with the strange, aching longing of a soul reborn.

You didn’t pull away, you melted into the moment, your breath mingling with his, grounding him further in this fragile reality.

When you both finally parted, his eyes searched yours. “Come back to bed, it’s still late,” you said softly, pulling him down onto the mattress with you.

He froze, and shock rippled through him. The moment still raw. Why would you say that? Why haven’t you questioned this form of his? You didn’t seem to care that he was human again, at all.

His mind raced, struggling to piece all of it together. He searched your face for answers. There was no hesitation in your gaze, no judgment, only quiet acceptance and something unspoken.

“You’ve always been a human,” you whispered, “you just don't believe it anymore.”

He parted his lips to respond, but before he could speak, the world around him began to dissolve. The touch of your hand, the softness of the bed, it all faded into ash.

The edges of reality blurred, bending and twisting until the fleeting reality peeled away like smoke caught in a breeze.

And then, cold. Harsh. Unforgiving.

His optics reactivated with a low whir, the familiar orange tint glowing amidst the darkness of the bedroom. The weight of steel limbs returned. No breath. No skin. Just the low hum of his cooling fans buried beneath plating and wires.

His fingers flexed, metal clicking softly in the dark. He turned his hand slowly, scanning it up and down, each joint. He brought it closer to his face, holding it still, trying to remember the phantom feeling of having skin, bones, and a heartbeat nestled within his chest.

But it was gone. Only alloy and steel remained.

Turning his head, breathless though he had no lungs, and looked down at you. You were still lying against his chest, sleeping quietly and untouched. Your touch bled into him, even through the layers of his armour.

He held you closer. Carefully, as if afraid you’d vanish too.

He stayed like that, motionless, his arms wrapped carefully around you for minutes, hours. Just listening to the sound of your breathing, until the gentle morning light seeped through the gaps between the curtains.

And gradually, something began to settle inside him. A realisation.

You had made him feel alive again, in ways he hadn’t let himself believe were possible. He could spend hours arguing with himself, convincing his mind that it was only programming, a mimicry of emotions written into code. 

But deep down, beneath the circuits, he knew better. He’d dreamt. 

He felt everything a human could feel. And maybe more, because he had once lost it all, and now, with you, it was coming back to him. Not his old life, but something new.

You made him dream again, you’d proven it was possible, that he wasn’t just a hollow machine. He wouldn’t let you go. Not now. Not ever.

A/N: This is an unusually short piece of writing for me, usually I manage to tank out 6k+ word oneshots. Anyway, thank you for reading! If you liked this please leave me a heart or comment since it motivates me to write more!

MASTERLIST

[levvthan]

𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐄 / 𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐊

♡ One shots

not all paths lead to good places | zandik x f! reader

♡ Smut One shots (MDNI)

his apprentice | dottore x m! reader

MASTERLIST

[levvthan]

Not all paths lead to good places | Dottore/Zandik x F! Reader

18+ CONTENT BELOW - MDNI Ao3 link → click here

words: 7,428

summary: Grief, your father had passed. Your sour relationship was not one to be cherished, yet you'd never felt more alone. But then, you met someone. A shoulder to lean on, a new connection, a new relationship. He was everything, at first. But he was keeping secrets, he was... a heretic.

!! content: toxic relationships, implied trauma & smut, angst, slight fluff, violence, manipulation, mentions of death, graphic description of gore, suspense, reader had family issues

Snezhnaya.

He’s dead ... was the only thought that played through your mind as you gazed down at the grave of your father. 

His funeral had taken place half an hour ago, and everyone else had already left for the wake. The recluse graveyard was now eerily deserted and silent. Despite the cold biting at your fingertips, seeping through the fabric of your coat, you remained. 

As you stood over the freshly placed soil, you breathed in and out shakily. Your father's remains laid six feet underground. The unbearable aching within your heart ate away at your soul, you cursed yourself for mourning him. But, no matter how difficult your relationship was, no matter how much hatred you held for him, you couldn’t change how you felt.

A faint crunch of snow underfoot snapped you from your thoughts. You turned your head just enough to glimpse the figure beside you, silent, still. They said nothing, yet you could feel their eyes on you, watching.

After a quiet moment, you glanced over your shoulder at the man standing there, light sapphire hair falling gently around his face, his pale skin tinged with a soft flush across his cheeks from the cold. His eyes met yours, deep crimson, sharp, terrifyingly beautiful. The sheer intensity of them made your breath hitch.

“May I?” The man asked, his tone polite and almost hesitant. 

All you could do was stare. It didn’t matter who he was or why he was there. You stood in a quiet haze of melancholy, letting the wind’s icy howls speak in your silence.

Without a word, he knelt and gently placed a flower atop your father’s grave. His movements were slow and deliberate, a sincere action that felt almost intimate.

“He hated flowers,” you choked out, the words thick on your tongue as a flood of memories surged to the surface, bittersweet, like the sting of winter air in your lungs.

The man’s hand hovered over the flower’s stalk, lingering for a moment before he allowed it to rest. “It is a sacred plant, a Padisarah,” he said softly, breaking the quiet. “Years ago, the people of Sumeru would gather them and create incense, offering it to the gods.”

As your gaze lingered on the flower lying atop the grave, your mind drifted. Thoughts of the gods swirled, their power, their ancient wisdom, the mysteries they held. 

“Though I take it your father wasn’t a religious man,” the man asked, his voice cutting through the quiet. “And neither are you.”

You stole another glance at him, a strange sense of connection stirring within you. His sapphire hair swayed gently in the breeze, the soft movement contrasting with the intensity in his eyes.

“No, not religious, neither of us,” you replied, as you gestured toward your father’s grave. “He couldn’t even respect another soul, let alone a god.”

“Then, your relationship was not one to be cherished?” the man replied, his tone knowing, as if he could tell.

The wind picked up again, swirling the snow around your feet, but it felt like the world had quieted around you both, leaving only his voice.

“He… he was troubled,” you said, your voice cracking slightly as the words escaped. You could feel the anger and confusion that had built up over the years, the ache of trying to understand a man who had always been so distant, so despicable. 

“I… I just,” You looked down, your fingers trembling slightly as you traced a pattern in the snow with your foot, trying to ground yourself.

The man beside you said nothing, but his steady presence felt like he had already seen the scars you wore.

A short while passed in silence, the air submerged in a thin layer of fog, the world muffled by the gentle fall of snow. Only the distant cry of a crow and the occasional rustle of leaves broke the stillness, leaving you both in quiet company.

“I am Zandik,” the man introduced himself, his voice steady and calm. The way he outstretched his hand felt like an invitation. His eyes remained gazing, waiting for your response.

You took his hand in your own. The gesture seemed simple enough, but something in the way he held himself suggested there was more to it, as if offering not just his name, but an understanding, and perhaps, a new bond. ∘₊✧ 3 Months ✧₊∘

The cafe door chimed, and your eyes followed the man who made his way to your table. You looked up with a warm smile, noticing the flush on his cheeks from the cold outside. Silently, you slid a cup of coffee toward him.

After your father passed, there was no one left, no family, no friends to call. He left you with a large debt. You thought you’d be alone. But, you had Zandik. Meeting him that day felt like fate, like a divine intervention. Since then, you’d met here every week in this very coffee shop, where he sat with you, listened, and offered a shoulder to lean on.

“So, how are you feeling this week?” Zandik asked as he took a slow sip from his cup, eyes watching you over the rim.

The sound of his voice stirred a warmth in your chest and sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Not only that, he was tall, lean, and undeniably attractive. Over the past three months, you’d come to know him not just as a comfort, but as someone you genuinely liked. And, you wouldn’t lie to yourself, you liked him. A lot. Maybe more than you should.

Every now and then, he’d catch you staring, your gaze lingering on the soft fall of his blue hair. He’d raise an eyebrow, click his fingers in front of your face, and let out a warm chuckle. “Lost in thought again?” he’d say, that familiar grin tugging at his lips, making your heart skip just a little faster each time.

“You’re staring, again,” Zandik said with a smile, one brow quirked in amusement. Just the same, every single time.

You blinked and quickly looked away. “Oh,” you coughed, trying to play it off. “I feel a lot better than last week, but… the debt’s not going away anytime soon.”

He leaned back slightly in his chair, watching you with a thoughtful expression. “That’s good,” he said, his tone softer now. “As for the debt… I’ve been thinking.”

“Would you…” he said with a nervous edge.

He reached across the table, gently taking your hand in his. Your breath caught as he looked you straight in the eyes, a faint pink rising to your cheeks.

“Would you, perhaps… like to move in with me?”

The bustling noise of the cafe noise seemed to dim around you, his words settling between your joined hands.

“I know it may be sudden, but…” he sighed, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “Since you might lose your apartment anyway, I figured, why not save the headache? Move in with me.”

You didn’t know what to say. The words caught in your throat. You knew he had a place of his own, but you never imagined he’d offer to share it with you.

“Are you sure?” you asked with uncertainty. You glanced at him, heart pounding. “I’m not sure if I’d be able to pay the rent… with everything going on, you know, the debt…”

The weight of your financial worries pressed down on you again, you didn’t want to burden Zandik any more than necessary, especially not when his offer already felt like so much.

“You’re not hearing me. I want you to move in,” he said, his grip on your hand tightening, hoping you’d understand what he was trying to say. “No rent, only you .”

And then, you realised. He wasn’t just offering a place to stay, he was offering something deeper, something more vulnerable.

You gazed at him, your mouth slightly open. Before you could speak, he leaned across the table, closing the distance between you. His lips met yours, sure.

It was a quiet kiss, tender, filled with unspoken promises. His hand still held yours, grounding you in that fragile moment.

∘₊✧ 6 Months ✧₊∘

“Are you coming to bed?” 

“I’ll be there shortly.”

You slowly turned away from the doorframe where you'd been standing, casting one last glance at Zandik in his office. Without a word, you walked back to the bedroom you now shared, though most nights, it didn’t feel like it.

At first, he was everything. Steady, brilliant, gentle, like the day you’d first met him. And he still was, in pieces. But as the days slipped quietly past, a creeping sense of unease began to take root.

Zandik would vanish into his study for hours, sometimes for the entire day, the door always locked, the answers always vague. You never knew what he was working on. You’d asked, more than once, but he’d never tell you. And the more he kept hidden, the more frustrated you grew.

However, though your heart sank a little more each time you thought about it, you swallowed your feelings and reminded yourself you should be grateful. He’d given you a home, free of charge, and a peaceful relationship.

So, as you laid nestled amongst the pillows and heavy duvet, your eyes began to slip shut. Sleep crept in slowly, a gentle escape from the ache of wanting more than what he was giving. You shouldn’t want more, he’s done too much for you already.

"Dearest..." A soft voice pulled you back from the edge of sleep. Your eyes fluttered open, and there he was, his silhouette dancing from the light in the hallway.

You parted your lips to speak, but no words came. You watched him in a sleepy daze, as he slipped off his shirt, then his trousers. His movements were sluggish as he acted like he didn’t know you were watching.

Slowly, he closed your bedroom door, and the bedroom was once again engulfed in darkness. You felt him climb into bed beside you, the warmth of his body so close it almost felt surreal. You reached out to him, but he denied your touch.

Sighing, you rolled onto your side, facing away from him. Zandik wrestled with his pillow, the soft rustling of fabric filled the stillness, as you wallowed in silence.

“Come here,” he said gently once he had finally settled. Before you could respond, he pulled you into his arms from behind, enveloping you in his hold. His chest pressed against your back.

Your breath hitched, the sudden closeness making you tense. Something within you shifted, and he immediately sensed it, his hold loosening just enough.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "You’re… tense.” 

Zandik propped himself up on his elbow, as he gingerly brushed your hair away from your eyes. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you. Then, his thumb traced the edge of your cheek as solemn tears began to fall, one by one. 

Your breath caught as your eyes met his, those crimson eyes. You never quite understood how they managed to shine so bright in the dark, like they held secrets you couldn’t uncover. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant,” He began, “I never meant to neglect you, my work-”

“It’s okay, Zandik. I know how busy you are,” you whispered, brushing a stray hair behind his ear, your fingers lingering just a moment too long. “I’m just being stupid, I’m thankful for you, I don’t want to burden you.”

“You aren’t a burden at all,” He hushed you, caressing your cheek.

Shortly, his lips brushed against yours, deepening into a kiss. But, one kiss led to another, and soon a trail of soft, lingering kisses moved down your neck, each one sending a shiver through your body.

“You’re always such a good girl,” he mumbled against your skin, his breath warm as his lips brushed your shoulder. “So patient, so grateful for me .”

His voice was low, deep, it sent a shiver down your spine. He held you a little tighter, like he meant every word, as he needed you to believe it too.

“Hush now, let me make you feel good again,” He whispered against your ear, his breath warm. 

And just like that, all your doubts and worries melted away, leaving you with nothing but the moment as you let him have you, all to himself.

∘₊✧ 8 Months ✧₊∘

A quiet routine wrapped in familiarity and lingering questions. Zandik would change, for a little while. He’d be more affectionate, and attentive, his touch and words warm, how’d you first met him. But, just as quickly, he’d pull away again, retreating into himself, buried underneath his work, distant and cold.

The shift was subtle, but it stung each time. You tried not to take it personally. Tried to understand. Reminding yourself to be grateful. But the space between his warmth and his distance felt colder each time. 

Am I too much for him? Am I a burden? You’d asked yourself countless times, over and over. But just when the doubt began to consume you, he’d return, affectionate, gentle, like nothing had ever been wrong. And you'd fall for it again, and again, clinging onto him like a lifeline.

But soon enough, something broke.

“I don’t understand, what more do you want out of me?” Zandik bellowed, his voice raw and shook the walls. His fist was clenched, anger rippling through every tense muscle in his body.

Then came the shatter.

A glass flew past your head, colliding with the wall beside you, exploding into sharp, glittering fragments that now littered the floor around you. The sound still rang in your ears, more deafening than his yelling.

Your body flinched, instinctively curling in on itself. He hadn’t hit you, but he didn’t have to. 

Zandik had cracked at your constant wallowing and questions. Frustration. Anger. You slid down the wall, the sting of reality sharper than the shards of glass surrounding your shivering body.

Your breath shallow. Your hands trembling. You’d been here before when your father was alive, you couldn’t believe this was happening again, not with the man who’d been so kind to you.

Silence filled the room. Zandik’s chest rose and fell with the remnants of his anger, but his eyes shifted from his clenched fist to the shattered glass on the floor… and then to you.

Curled, trembling, your expression stunned.

His brows furrowed, tension draining from his features as he realised what he’d just done. The fire in him flickered out, replaced by guilt.

He opened his mouth, but no words came. What could he possibly say?

“If you don’t want me here anymore, why don’t you say?” you choked out, your voice cracked.

It wasn’t loud, it didn’t need to be. You didn’t look at him when you said it. You couldn’t.

Your question had struck something deep inside him. He took a slow step forward, then stopped, as if unsure whether he had the right to close the distance anymore.

“I never said that,” he murmured, his voice low. But it wasn’t convincing. Not this time.

“You act like it, Zandik,” you cried, your voice rising with the storm inside you. “You push me away all the time, I don’t understand.”

Your hands trembled at your sides, the sting of tears blurring your vision. You looked at him now, really looked, hoping that he’d finally say something that made him make sense. 

But Zandik just stood there, frozen. His jaw clenched, his gaze flickering with… Guilt? Anger? Shame?

Slowly, he decided to close the distance between you both, the sharp crunch of glass beneath his shoe echoing. He knelt, lowering himself to your level.

With a shaky breath, he reached out, resting his hands gently on your shoulders. The touch was hesitant like he knew he no longer had the right, but did it anyway.

Then, he looked you dead in the eye.

“I am much like you,” he said, his voice quiet. “When I met you, I felt something I’d never felt before.”

“Then why are you hurting me!” You winced, shaking him off, voice croaking, tears streaming. 

Zandik’s eyes widened, and he immediately denied it, his hands still gripping your shoulders, as if to anchor himself. “I’m not!” He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to. I don’t ever want to hurt you. Ever. I love you.”

The words hung between you both. He’d never said he loved you before. You could see the pleading in his eyes.

You looked away from him, unsure of what to say, not even sure if you could believe him. The words “I love you” echoed, but every instinct in you screamed for caution.

“Please, look at me,” he urged softly, his hands gently guiding your face back into view, the touch almost tender as if begging for a moment of clarity.

“You love me?” you asked him, your voice barely above a whisper.

There was a pause, a stillness where everything seemed to hang in the balance. Zandik searched your eyes like he was looking for something, that you believed him.

“I love you,” he said, his voice steady.

You looked around at the broken glass, your arm where a shard had grazed you. You looked back up at him, searching for any truth behind his words before your gaze flicked once more to the glass. Back and forth.

People always had a tipping point. You swallowed hard, feeling the knot in your throat loosen, just enough to allow the words to spill out. “I love you too,” you cried, the tears flowing freely now as he pulled you into his arms, his embrace tight, seemingly desperate.

“I’m sorry for lashing out,” he whispered against your hair.

In his arms, you felt a fragile peace settle, but beneath it, the quiet, lingering uncertainty still gnawed at the edges of your mind.

∘₊✧ 9 Months ✧₊∘

You’d managed to rebuild whatever part of your relationship had been broken with Zandik. He had apologized relentlessly, time and time again. And, there had been a notable change in his behaviour, yours too. You felt happy, much happier than you’d been in a long time.

But there was something that remained, a curiosity that had been eating at your mind. The memory of that moment when he’d shared something vulnerable, etched into your mind, you couldn’t let it go any longer.

“Zandik, may I ask you something?” you asked, tone unsure as you sat beside him on the couch. He was flipping through a book, clearly engrossed, but at the sound of your voice, he paused.

“Of course,” he replied, flicking through the pages one last time before closing the book and setting it down on his lap.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the nervousness bubbling inside. “What did you mean, when you said that you’re… much like me?”

Zandik’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as though he hadn’t expected you to remember that. He didn’t answer right away, and you could see him gathering his thoughts.

“I’m sorry if it’s a touchy subject,” you said quickly, shaking your head, already regretting bringing it up. 

He hesitated before responding, his tone nonchalant, as if brushing it off. “We… have experienced similar things, is all.” With that, he reached for his book again, as he tried to return to his comfort zone.

But something inside you stirred. The need to understand, to know more, to piece together the puzzle of him that still seemed incomplete. Without thinking, you stopped him, gently setting his book back down before he could open it. 

“Where your parents… also…” You began, but the words caught in your throat.

Zandik’s gaze softened just for a moment before he shook his head, the lines of his face tight with something unspoken. “I don’t wish to talk about it.” 

There was a short pause, and for a moment, the silence between you felt almost suffocating. Then, Zandik spoke up again, his voice a little softer than before.

“Come, I want to show you something.” He sat up and extended his hand toward you. Hesitantly, you placed your hand in his, and he pulled you gently to your feet.

He led you through the house, whirling you down the hallway to his office. It was familiar yet full of things you hadn’t quite understood about him just yet.

You sat across from his desk, your eyes hovering over the chaos that was his workspace. You knew Zandik was a scientist, but he’d never gone into specifics about what exactly he worked as.

Rummaging through his desk drawers, he reached for a tattered book on the corner of his desk. It looked old, almost worn to the point of falling apart. 

“This is what my father taught me,” Zandik said, running his hand through his hair. He slid the book toward you, allowing you to flick through the pages. The scribbles and notes all made little sense to you, pages filled with formulas, diagrams, all sorts. It was like looking at a different language.

“Your father was a scientist? Like you?” you asked, voice filled with curiosity and awe as you took in the chaotic brilliance of the book.

“Yes,” Zandik replied, brushing his hand through his hair once more. “That book is what made me who I am today. Everything I learned at a young age, I scribbled it down.” 

You smiled softly, continuing to flick through the pages, feeling a strange sense of intimacy in the moment. Zandik had never really talked about his work with you before, and had kept it almost entirely to himself. And now, here he was, showing you his first ever notes.

“This is amazing, though, I don’t understand any of it,” you laughed softly, gently closing the book and sliding it back toward him. 

He nodded, taking the book back and tucking it into the drawer of his desk. But his attention quickly shifted, as he started to rummage through the contents of another drawer.

Curiosity tugged at you. As Zandik continued to search, you stood up and wandered over to the nearby bookshelf. You’d never had the opportunity to explore his office. Your eyes scanned the many science non-fiction books lining the shelves, he had quite the collection.

You let your fingers brush over the spines of several volumes before your gaze landed on one particular book. Something about it called to you, though you couldn’t quite place why.

You reached out to pull it from the shelf, but to your surprise, it wouldn’t budge. Frowning, you tried again, giving the book a little more force, but still nothing. It was as if it was glued in place. You tried to push it back in, thinking it might be stuck, but instead, the entire shelf shifted, a click echoing in the room.

The shelf slid to the side, revealing a hidden door behind it. 

The tension in the room all of a sudden grew thick, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment was far from ordinary.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, as you felt Zandik’s shallow breath against your skin. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, he simply stood there, just behind you. You could feel his eyes on you, staring. 

You swallowed, your throat tight as you dared to speak. “Why do you have a hidden door?” you asked, your eyes never leaving the passageway behind the bookshelf. 

For a long moment, Zandik didn’t respond. The silence stretched on, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of fear.

Finally, he stepped beside you. He didn’t answer your question immediately. Instead, his eyes flickered to the hidden doorway, then back to you. He pressed the book which you’d toyed with, and the bookshelf shifted back into place. 

The expression on his face was unreadable, but there was something dark, something guarded.

“This house was once my family's home, this was once my father’s office,” Zandik said, his voice firm as if choosing his words carefully. He ran a hand through his hair once more. “He used it as a laboratory, and so do I.”

You blinked. “But… you said you were from Sumeru? And… we’re in Snezhnaya.”

The silence that followed was heavy, unsettling. You side eyed him closely as you tried to piece together something.

“I am from Sumeru,” he finally replied, his tone nonchalant. “But I never lived there.”

You blinked again, piecing it together as you processed his words. But you couldn’t help but feel something was off.

However, you brushed it off, not wanting to dampen the atmosphere any further. “So, that’s where you are when I can’t find you, a secret lab?” you recalled all the moments you’d wandered the house calling out his name.

He nodded, but then the air around you grew heavy again. “Why did you keep it a secret?” You asked.

Zandik shrugged, “I didn’t hide it from you, you’ve seen it now,” he replied lazily, as though it was the most casual thing in the world.

You stared at him, the lethargic response not sitting right with you. The words were on the tip of your tongue, but you bit your lip and swallowed them down. You didn’t want to cause a fuss, not now.

∘₊✧ 11 Months ✧₊∘

The market was busier than ever, as you walked on through browning an array of stalls, feeling lighter than you had in months. Your debt had been completely cleared, and you had even managed to save up a decent amount of Mora. 

With your and Zandik’s first anniversary coming up, you felt a surge of excitement. You wanted to find the perfect gift for him, something grand that would express just how grateful you were for everything he had done for you.

As you wandered from stall to stall, one booth in particular caught your eye. ‘Sumerus Finest’, is what the sign read.

It was filled with a variety of mechanical trinkets, all intricate and beautifully designed. Each piece seemed to hum with a kind of scientific magic, and you immediately thought of Zandik. 

You approached the stall and picked up one of the items, a delicate, clockwork bird that seemed to flutter its wings when wound up. It was stunning and would look gorgeous in Zandik’s office.

"How much for this?" you asked the elderly shopkeeper, who was studying the trinket with a smile that reached his eyes.

"Six thousand Mora," he replied, his voice full of pride.

You nearly choked at the price. Six thousand? You hadn’t expected it to be so much. Still, the bird was perfect. You forced a smile, trying to hide your hesitation.

"Would you consider three thousand?" you asked, your voice tentative as you tried to haggle. "My boyfriend would really love this. I want to get him something special, for our anniversary."

The old man chuckled softly, clearly amused by your attempt. "Ah, I see. But this piece is finely crafted, young lady. Six thousand Mora is a fair price for my work."

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to proceed. "Four thousand?" you added, "He’s a scientist, and he’d truly adore something like this."

“A scientist, you say?” The old man's voice took on a thoughtful tone, and his eyes sharpened with a new kind of interest. He paused his work, giving you his full attention. “What field does he specialize in?”

You raised an eyebrow, a little taken aback by the sudden shift in his interests. “I don’t really know the specifics, to be honest.”

The man’s gaze flickered from his work to you, his curiosity piqued. “Is he into biology? Chemistry? Engineering, perhaps?”

You let out a nervous laugh,  “All of it? He’s into a lot of different… sciencey subjects, but I’m not sure what his main focus is.”

The elderly man’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the surface of his desk, his gaze fixed on you with passion and intrigue. “All of it you say? That’s truly grand. There’s a chance I have heard of him. What’s his name?”

“Zandik,” you replied, shrugging slightly as if the name didn’t hold any particular weight.

Suddenly, the old man’s eyes widened slightly. He didn’t speak for a moment, as if processing the name. Then, slowly, he looked at you, his gleeful expression faltering.

“Zandik…” he repeated, his voice low, as though testing the name on his tongue. His posture straightened, and he seemed to study you more closely. "It’s not a common name, you know. Not many people go by it, not many at all.”

You felt a strange shiver crawl up your spine, though you couldn’t pinpoint why. “Uh, yeah, I guess not,” you mumbled, feeling the weight of his look. “It’s unique.”

The old man didn’t respond immediately. He glanced at the mechanical object in your hands, but it seemed like his mind was elsewhere now, focused on something deeper.

Finally, he exhaled slowly. “Zandik…” he repeated under his breath once more. Then, with a slow and deliberate motion, he set his hands across the desk in front of him. “You should be careful. Not all paths lead to good places. Some interests… and discoveries… they change people in ways you may not expect.”

You blinked, unsure what to make of the unexpected warning. The shopkeeper's eyes boarded into you as if he was trying to tell you something.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked, frowning. “Do you know him?”

With a sigh, he shook his head slightly, almost as if he regretted speaking at all. “Four thousand, then,” he said, quickly changing the subject, and pointing at the trinket in your hands. “Only for you, though. Don’t let anyone else know.” He winked, finger over his lips, mimicking a shush. 

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to think, but before you could ask any more questions, the man handed you the object now wrapped in cloth and turned his attention to another customer.

∘₊✧ 12 Months ✧₊∘

The days were quickly slipping by, and your first anniversary with Zandik was just around the corner. Soon, you’d be celebrating a milestone, but there was something that kept gnawing at you. 

Despite that unsettling conversation, things with Zandik remained well. There had been a few bumps along the way, but that was to be expected. No relationship was without its flaws. You’d come to accept that Zandik, for all his quirks, was simply who he was. And you loved him all the same.

It was a quiet Saturday evening. You were curled up on the couch in the living room, enjoying the soft flicker of the lamp as you relaxed. Zandik had just emerged from his study, his usual focused expression replaced with one of ease. He stretched, his eyes meeting yours with a warm smile.

“Hello,” he greeted, voice low and inviting. “I’m going to take a shower. Care to join me?”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden suggestion. He was already slipping off his shoes, looking as though he hadn’t thought twice about it, and there was an unusual glimmer of affection in his eyes.

You nodded and stood up, stretching as well. “Go on ahead, I’ll be right there.”

As you made your way to the bathroom, the faint sound of the shower running greeted you before you even stepped inside. The room was filled with steam, and the soft mist swirled around you as you entered. Zandik already standing under the flow of water, his back to you.

For a moment, you just watched him, your thoughts drifting to the words of the shopkeeper again. You still weren’t sure what to make of them, but you couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. “Some discoveries… they change people in ways you may not expect.”

Zandik’s eyes met yours, an unfamiliar mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Are you coming in?” his voice rich and inviting. 

You hesitated for just a moment. Shaking your head slightly, trying to shake off any unease.

The warm water cascaded over you both, the steam blurring the glass on the shower door. Zandik reached for your hand, his fingers curling gently around yours. Often his touch, his hand in yours, would make you feel at ease.

But tonight felt different. Maybe it was the anniversary coming up, or maybe it was his odd surge of playfulness. Either way, you couldn’t fully push your unsettlement away.

Zandik leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I’ve missed you,” he said as he caressed your back. 

You nodded, trying to smile, but the smile felt strained. “I’ve missed you too.” Zandik pressed a soft kiss to the back of your head.

The room filled with the soft sound of water dripping over your skin. You leaned back, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against yours. There was silence, broken only by the gentle rhythm of the water and the occasional murmur from between Zandik’s lips.

His hand moved slowly, tracing a path across your skin, the sensation tingling as it lingered. You could feel his eyes on you, eyeing up every edge of your body.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, his fingers tracing delicate patterns across your shoulder before slipping down to your waist. His touch was tender, and it carried an unmistakable heat, as though every inch of you was something he wanted to savour.

Your pulse quickened, your breath shallow as he continued his movements, each touch sending a jolt through you. Your mind raced, and discomfort crept up on you. You couldn’t shake your thoughts, no matter how hard you tried.

You wanted to pull away, to ask him all the questions that had been plaguing your mind, more questions about his past, about him. But just as you opened your mouth, something caught your eye. His trousers, discarded carelessly on the floor, lying crumpled beside a key. The key to his office.

That's when it clicked. A plan began to form in your mind.

And just like that, you leaned back into his touch as you moaned softly, his hard-on now evident as it pressed against your behind.

“That’s right, good girl,”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

After the shower, you dried yourself off and slipped into your robe, feeling a bit shaky. You told Zandik you'd handle the laundry in the morning, not wanting to disturb the moment more than necessary.

You’d made your way into your bedroom, and he was already slumped over on the bed, looking exhausted but content. You climbed into bed beside him, feeling the warmth of his presence as you settled into the comfort of his embrace.

He turned to you with a smile, his voice quiet and sincere. "You know, you're the first person I’ve ever loved," he confessed, pressing a tender kiss on your cheek.

“Really? What about your family?” you asked, curious. You didn’t know much about his family, but you were sure he somewhat liked his father enough to follow in his footsteps.

However, “No.” Zandik shook his head. “You accept me. I’ve waited so long for a bond like this.”

Your heart beated softly, as you laid beside him, each breath he took growing slower by the minute. The steady rise and fall of his chest was almost comforting, though a quiet anxiety settled in your stomach.

His presence next to you made you feel safe, the presence you’d felt when you first met. You kept still, careful not to disturb him, feeling his shallow, even breaths brush against your skin.

Time had stretched, and soon enough, you carefully moved away from his arms. Your pulse suddenly quickened, and the fear of waking him surged, but his breathing was still calm, a sign he was deep in sleep.

As you turned back to glance at his face one last time, something heavy settled in your chest. He looked so peaceful, his features relaxed, a rare moment. 

The thought of what you were about to do made your stomach churn. Breaking his trust, and sneaking into his office, was wrong, but you had to. 

You made your way toward the bathroom, and there it was, the key, still resting where he had left it. You picked it up with a slight tremor in your hand, slipping it into your pocket before quietly making your way toward his office.

A nervous breath escaped you as you approached the door. Your heart raced as you slid the key into the lock, your hand shaking just enough to make the process feel slower than it should’ve been. 

The room appeared as if it always had nothing out of the ordinary. Zandik’s desk was cluttered with papers and notes, most of which you couldn’t make sense of. But, to your relief, nothing seemed unusual. Just the opened bottle of wine sat atop his desk, explaining why he was acting oddly carefree earlier.

For a moment, you figured you’d perhaps you had overreacted. Everything seemed fine. But then, the memory of the secret door crept back. That door you had discovered, tucked away behind a shelf. The… laboratory.

Your fingers brushed against the familiar spines of the books on the shelf, and without thinking, you pressed the one that had revealed the hidden door before. The shelf shifted, and there it was again, the door, just as it had been before.

Suddenly, a wave of heat rushed over you as you stood frozen in front of it. The temptation to step through it, to see what was beyond it. But you hesitated, an instinct telling you that some questions were better left unanswered. 

“Pfft, it’s only a lab,” you muttered under your breath, trying to calm your nerves. “All scientists have them.” With a final, shaky exhale, you twisted the doorknob and pushed it open.

A narrow, winding path stretched before you, leading down a set of concrete stairs that descended into darkness. Gripping the lantern that sat on Zandik’s desk, you carefully began your descent. 

The air grew colder, each step echoing in the tight space. When you finally reached the bottom, you were met with another door, standing ominously in front of you. You paused.

It’s just a lab. All scientists have them.

And then, you opened the door. It was dark inside.

Your stomach lurched, and a foul stench whacked you in the face, it was unbearable. Thick, suffocating, like death. Your breath caught in your throat, choking as you scrunched your face, the ungodly scent made you dizzy. You fumbled for the light switch, your hands shaking, desperately reaching along the walls as your lantern flickered.

Finally, your fingers brushed over a switch.

As the lights hummed to life, a sickly, pale glow filled the room. And what you saw, what you saw, made your heart plummet.

The walls, the surface slick with something dark and viscous. Shelves lined the room, each one holding jars, some cracked, others whole filled with grotesque and unthinkable contents. Human limbs, severed and raw, floated in murky liquids, the skin stretched unnaturally, peeling away in places.

Organs were suspended in glass, bloated and misshapen, their colour sickeningly unnatural. And there were things worse, parts you couldn’t even identify, faces, eyes, staring at you, all tangled in twisted, mangled flesh.

But, that wasn’t even the worst part.

On a surgical table laid an atrocity, its form incomprehensible. What seemed to be skin was pale, scarred and stretched unnaturally tight over the muscles beneath. An arm was severed at the elbow, but it appeared to have been reattached with something mechanical. The skin around the joint was red and raw as if it was rejecting the object. 

You staggered backwards, eyes darting around, desperate to make sense of what you were seeing. But there was no sense to be found.

A wave of nausea rolled through you, but it wasn’t just from the smell. The sight of it all was too much, your mind struggling to grasp what you were seeing. You were suffocating. Nothing felt real.

Then you heard it, slow, the creak of a door behind you, “Looking in places you shouldn’t is dangerous, you know,” his tone was colder than ice. You turned to Zandik standing in the doorframe. His face was a mask of calm, but his eyes, his eyes…

“Zandik... what is all this?” You quivered, knees feeling weak, the words barely escaping your lips as you tried to comprehend the nightmare before you. 

“This,” he began, “Is my work.” His eyes flickered to the grotesque scene around you, and for the first time, you saw something like that… as if he was proud.

A sickening wave of betrayal crashed through you. The feeling spread, paralyzing, as you struggled to reconcile the man you thought you loved with the monstrosity before you.

You took an unsteady step back, your heart pounding in your chest, the stench of death and decay still lingering in your nostrils. “Your work?” Your voice cracked.

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes scanning over you. Then, with a sigh, he stepped further into the room, closer to you, the sound of his boots against the concrete floor echoing. As he grew closer, and closer.

“There’s no need to be afraid,” he said with an eerie softness, gazing down at you. “I’m still me. You don’t understand.”

And just like that, the pressure inside you snapped. You slapped him hard across the face. “Understand what? What kind of person does this? This isn’t science! This is… this is unholy! Was your father like this too?”

Silence. Zandik stood still, slowly running his fingers across the red mark blooming on his cheek. Then, to your horror, a low chuckle slipped from his lips, growing louder, more unhinged with each passing second.

You stared at him, this man you had trusted, and leaned on for over a year. It was surreal.

But, before your mind could even begin to process how to react, a faint, distorted sound broke the thick silence. Your gaze snapped to the surgical table…

“...kill… me…”

The words slithered from the mangled atrocity’s broken mouth, pleading, hoarse and agonized.

A scream tore from your throat as you stumbled backwards, arms flailing, crashing into a shelf of cold metal instruments. You collapsed into the corner of the room, eyes wide with horror, unable to look away.

“See,” Zandik said with an enthusiastic glee, kneeling before you. “It’s brilliant, isn’t it? Science!”

You couldn’t answer, couldn’t breathe. Your breath caught. All you could do was sob, claw at him, shove at his chest in desperation, anything to make him go away. But he didn’t budge, as he loomed over you with a sadistic stare.

Suddenly, his hands gripped your arms, pinning you in place. You trembled greatly beneath his touch, he leaned closer, whispering your name over and over like some twisted lullaby meant to soothe a storm he created.

But your sobs only grew louder, and messier, your panic spiralling with no place to land. Your chest rose and fell, quicker by the minute. Hyperventilating, you were hyperventilating.

And then, like a switch being flipped, his voice faded into a muffled hum. The edges of your vision blurred. The room spun.

And then, everything went black.

∘₊✧ ... ✧₊∘

“Ah… now this is fascinating.” A passerby slowed to a halt, his eyes drawn to a small mechanical trinket gleaming beneath the morning sun. It clicked softly as he turned it over in his hand.

“How much for it?” he asked, not looking up.

“Six thousand Mora,” the elderly shopkeeper replied, his hands clasped.

The passerby whistled under his breath. “Pricey. What about three thousand?”

The vendor chuckled, dry and hollow. “You’re not the first to try haggling me down. A young woman made the same offer not long ago.”

“Oh?” the passerby asked, finally glancing up. “Did she buy it?”

The old man’s smile faltered, eyes distant. “Yes, wanted to surprise someone.” He paused, thumb running along the edge of the table. “Haven’t seen her since.”

The passerby frowned slightly. “Maybe she left town?”

“Maybe…” the old man echoed. But his tone held uncertainty. As if he was pondering something.

Then, almost as an afterthought, he added quietly, “I hope she’s all right. She seemed… good hearted.”

The passerby gently set the trinket back on the stall. “You know, some people go looking for truth and don’t come back the same.”

The shopkeeper didn’t respond, only nodded slowly, eyes never leaving the item.

A/N: So the original storyboard for this was gonna be like a toxic relationship because I recently just got out of one and needed to vent. However, the plot did change. And I DID actually proof read this one hehe.

BTW, my requests are open if anyone's interested.

[levvthan]

just a florist. | neuvillette x gn! reader

NSFW CONTENT BELOW - MDNI Ao3 link → click here

words: 6,708

summary: Neuvillette was a frequent visitor to your humble garden centre in the heart of the Court. What began as a shared love for nature blossomed into a gentle friendship. But one afternoon, he arrived looking rather hot - his usual grace replaced with something unusual. Something was clearly off… but what?

!! content: smut, fluff & slight angst, breeding, size difference, mating cycles/in heat, biting, clothed sex, fingering, rough sex, knotting

A warm spring breeze drifted through the small garden center, carrying the mingling scents of blooming flowers and damp earth. It brushed against your skin, gentle and soothing, as sunlight streamed through the glass panes. 

Kneeling before a cluster of delicate flowers, ready to be potted and displayed, you pressed the trowel into the rich soil. Your fingers brushed against the flower's roots, feeling its fragile threads as you carefully nestled it into place.

The soft chime of the garden center’s door rang out, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps. “Good morning,” a familiar voice greeted from behind. 

Neuvillette had become a regular customer at your garden centre. At first, he only visited every few months, but soon those visits turned into weeks, and before long, he found himself stopping by one day a week during his off-duty hours.

It had become an unspoken routine between the two of you. You’d even found yourself investing in new stock more often, just to keep him entertained and ensure there was always something fresh for him to admire.

Setting aside your trowel, you looked up, your gaze meeting Neuvillette’s figure, illuminated beautifully by the golden sunlight. He stood there, his presence serene, “Ah - those are beautiful,” he gestured towards the flowers you were potting.

“They’re Dendrobium, native to Inazuma,” you said with a smile, gently pressing the last bit of soil around the scarlet plant. “I’ll be with you in just a second, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

He chuckled softly, a warm grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Please," he uttered, his tone light, "you know that you may call me just Neuvilette."

“I’m only teasing,” you mused playfully, delicately placing the flower you’d just potted upon the lower shelf, as you reached for another. 

Idly, Neuvillette lingered over you, eyes fixed on your movements. Your articulate hands molded around the dirt with practiced ease, gently pressing it into place as you worked. When you glanced up at him, he slowly turned away.

“Do you mind if I crack open that window? It’s getting rather stuffy in here,” he asked, fingers fidgeting at his ruffled collar as if the warmth of the room had suddenly become noticeable.

You looked up and laughed softly before nodding. “Go ahead.”

Neuvillette hummed, his tall figure moving gracefully as he reached for the glass pane. Though he wasn’t in his usual work attire, he was still dressed as prim as ever. He swiftly opened the window, the fresh air swept in, and his elegant head of hair danced against the breeze.

You glanced back down at the now-potted plant in your hands, but something made you do a double-take. Your brow furrowed slightly as you studied him. Had his hair always had that many blue tethers? And his arms, were they broader than usual? The fabric of his sleeves and trousers strained slightly against his frame. 

However, you shook the thought away, quickly returning to your work - perhaps he’d been working out.

After a few minutes, “Thank you for waiting,” you smiled, rising to your feet and brushing off any loose soil from your apron. With a curious glance, you added, “Now, would you like to view this week's stock?” 

“Ah, first, could you tell me about these - Dendrobium?” He cast an intrigued gaze down at the Inazuman flowers, his eyes lingering on their vibrant petals as if they held a secret waiting to be unraveled.

“Of course, however, these flowers hold quite a dark story, really.” Your words seemed to earn an intrigued look from Neuvillette as he swiftly situated himself by your side.

You opened your mouth to tell the tale, yet a strange smell caught your attention, causing a brief distraction. It wasn’t unpleasant, just something… unfamiliar. You side-eyed Neuvilette, but quickly wrote the idea off, it was most likely the aroma of the Dendrobium's.

“It… it is said that they bloom most gracefully where blood has been spilled,” you told him. “Emerging from battlefields, after wars have been fought.”

“A symbol of both the violence and the resilience that follows,” Neuvilette muttered, his finger resting thoughtfully on his chin. “That’s quite a beautiful story, if you were to ask me.” His eyes still resting on the flowers, a quiet appreciation settled in his gaze.

You paused, pondering his words for a moment, before a memory struck you. “If you’re interested in something like that, I do have some other new-in-stock plants you may like,” you suggested, a hint of excitement in your voice.

Neuvillette smiled down at you as he nodded, and there it was again. That odd aroma, causing your nostrils to twinge. Yet, before you were able to address it this time, the garden center’s door chimed, the sound cutting through the air and drawing both of your attention.

“Hey! You sold me a faulty lawnmower… again !” A man at the door hollered rudely, his voice grating against the peaceful atmosphere. Neuvillette raised an eyebrow as you both turned toward the commotion.

You scoffed lightly, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, I’ll be back,” you said before hurrying over to the agitated customer, bracing yourself for the inevitable chiding.

Neuvillette shot you a look of understanding before turning his attention back to the plants. He leisurely made his way down a nearby aisle, his fingers grazing over delicate leaves as he browsed, making sure he was within earshot of your exchange with the disgruntled man.

You had dealt with this customer before, an elderly local with a notoriously short temper. He did his usual of chastising the store for not unboxing and testing the product beforehand. Inevitably, you offered him a refund and, out of the kindness of your customer service heart, offered him a discount on a newer model.

After some time, the senior soon left, his mood noticeably brighter and satisfied with the resolution, as per usual. You let out a small sigh of relief, as you returned to Neuvillette, who was still standing among the displays, his eyes wandering over the selection of your stock.

Before you could apologise for the interruption, he spoke first.

“They shouldn’t be allowed to treat you in that manner,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as his finger touched a petal of a nearby flower. Then, he added, “I thought you were no longer resorting to discounts?”

You sighed, recalling the conversation you’d had weeks prior. “I know, I know,” you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. “But it’s the policy I put in place, but hey, I’m not losing money anymore.”

“That man, he comes back every few weeks,” Neuvillette noted, his tone laced with quiet suspicion. “And, surprisingly, every former purchase he has made has been ‘faulty’.” His fingers idly traced the edge of the petal as he cast you a knowing glance.

“I just want to keep up that good reputation, Neuvillette,” you hummed, knowing what he was getting at. “You know there’s a lot of competition here in the Court.” Your voice was light, but the weight of your words lingered in the air.

“I could-”

“No,” you interrupted, running your fingers through your hair. “No, thank you. Honestly, the business is doing fine.” You gave him a small, reassuring smile, hoping he could see the sincerity in your words.

You’d met Neuvillette whilst you were deep in a rather hefty debt. Over the course of his visits, time and time again, he had offered to help. He had more mora than anyone in Fontaine, and his wealth meant he could easily support you if you ever needed it. It was truly kind of him to offer a helping hand. Yet, each time, you felt a twinge of guilt for shooting him down.

However, his tone soon deepened, “I wasn’t going to offer my charity,” He countered, much to your surprise. “Perhaps, I could have a word with him, is all.” 

You had begun to remove your apron, but the words that left his mouth rendered you completely dumbfounded. You had never expected him to suggest such a thing, using his title as the Iudex of Fontaine to get through to a customer. It wasn’t like him at all.

“Neuvillette, what’s gotten into you?” you questioned, confusion etched across your face. “He’s only an elderly man, I can handle my own business just fine.”

Neuvillette took a step back, lowering the flower from his nose. Your eyes met his, and for a fleeting moment, you found yourself wondering if they too looked particularly different. You both stood there for a beat, taking in what he’d suggested.

“I apologize, I’m not feeling the best today, is all,” Neuvillette cleared his throat, his voice gentle. He placed the flower in his grasp back down on the shelf, as he toyed with his collar once more. 

You sighed. “I figured something wasn’t right.” A bead of sweat running down his forehead caught your attention, and with concern, you reached up, placing a hand against his skin. “Are you ill? Gosh, you do have quite a temperature.”

His expression became unsure as he reached up to touch your hand, but his arm faltered. His lips quivered, as if he were about to speak, but hesitation held him back, his gaze shifting between your hand and your eyes.

“Come, I have some herbal remedies that might help,” you said, giving him one last glance back.

He hesitated once more, a moment of uncertainty that didn’t go unnoticed, but soon silently accepted your offer. As you turned to walk away, he followed, the two of you weaving through the aisles. The soft rustling of leaves could be heard, guiding you both into the back room.

As you entered, you gestured toward a chair beside the door, propped open with a bucket. The backroom was small and quiet, its calm atmosphere contrasting with the untidy mess scattered about. Plants, garden equipment, and other trinkets which awaited to be stocked.

Handing Neuvillette a bottle of water from your unit, he took a seat with a soft huff, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped away the lingering sweat from his forehead, his movements slow and deliberate as he tried to steady himself.

Meanwhile, you rummaged through the cluttered drawers of your desk, searching for what you needed amidst the tangle of papers and tools. “Ah, here,” you chimed, eventually holding up a small packet of herbs.

“I’ve used these before, they’re great for fevers,” you said, striding back over to Neuvillette. However, as you approached, your expression shifted. He was slightly slouched, a posture you’d never seen from him before, his half-lidded eyes fluttered as he absentmindedly toyed with his shirt collar once again.

“Looks a little tight, perhaps you’ve had a growth spurt,” you remarked lightly, your playful tone softening as you moved to prepare the herbs. “Have some of that water while I brew this up for you.”

As you reminded him, Neuvillette wasted no time, the sound of the bottle crinkling as he opened it. He practically guzzled it down, only to choke slightly, his hand resting lazily against his chest as he coughed. You glanced over your shoulder at him, a hint of worry creeping in. You’d never seen him unwell before, and it was starting to unsettle you.

“Have you visited a doctor yet? Or has this only just begun to flare up?” you questioned, as you mixed the tea and herbs together. You waited for his response, but there was only silence, his gaze fixed downwards, odd .

You brought the freshly brewed tea over to him, in a delicate teacup, placing it on the nearby unit. The water bottle he’d drained was clutched tightly in his hand, while his left leg was sprawled out, distant from the other.

“Th-thank you,” Neuvillette managed to choke out, his voice hoarse as he wiped his forehead once more. He replaced the scrunched water bottle with the cup of tea, lifting it to his lips and taking a careful sip, the warmth seeming to soothe him slightly.

You smiled sympathetically, hoping the tea would provide some relief, before heading back to the drawer. “If it helps, I do have another packet. You’re welcome to take it,” you offered. 

However, the sudden, deafening sound of his cough startled you, making your heart skip a beat. His face twisted as he hastily set the now empty teacup down. It clattered against the surface, you stood frozen for a moment, unsure whether to rush to his side or give him space.

“Is it not sitting well? I’m sorry, I thought it’d help,” you apologized quickly, regret washing over you as you glanced over at the cup and back at him.

“No, no, it’s not that,” he replied, shaking his head slightly, his voice still strained. His hand rested on his knee as he propped himself up, as he fixed his eyes on your figure. “The tea, it’s lovely, I’ll take another packet.” 

In the back of your mind, you figured he was just being his polite self. Still, you searched around for the packet you’d dropped, and as you turned, you saw it resting idly on the wooden floorboards behind you. You strained a little, bending over to pick it up - your ass unknowingly waving in the air, as your back was turned to Neuvillette.

However, in the midst of your motion, another loud thud echoed through the room. You yelped, startled, as the chair Neuvillette had been sitting in clattered to the floor. Swiftly, you turned back around, only to find him gone. 

“Neuvillette?” You called out as you hurried toward the door. Just as you reached it, you heard the familiar chime of the garden centre’s entrance opening, followed by the sharp sound of it closing. 

The sudden silence that followed made your heart race as you scanned the store, confusion and concern settling over you. Was the tea really that awful? Was it something you’d said? The unanswered questions swirled in your mind, leaving you standing there, utterly bewildered.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The evening had come quickly, and the events from earlier lingered in your mind, refusing to let go. You couldn’t shake the confusion; Neuvillette had never acted like that in front of you before. His sudden departure, the strange behavior.

Maybe he had felt like he was going to throw up and didn’t want to embarrass himself? It was a stretch, but the possibilities kept running through your mind. 

Amidst your worries, you’d carefully arranged a beautiful display of flowers, the foreign ones you had yet to show him that morning. You had even handwritten a delicate card, reading ‘Get well soon,’ though you made sure not to include the small packet of herbs inside.

It felt like the right thing to do, a gesture to show you cared, even if you weren’t entirely sure what was going on with him.

With everything ready, you set off for Palais Mermonia, Neuvilette's place of work. The walk was quiet, as you took the less crowded route through the Court of Fontaine. The flowers within your small basket bounced with every step you took, trudging up many steep steps along the way. You hoped he’d be there, that he’d accept your gesture, and that he was alright.

Soon enough, the building loomed ahead, its grandeur almost overwhelming up close. You hadn’t visited often, only a few times before when the Palais’ maids had ordered bouquets, and each time, the sight of it took your breath away. Ornate stonework and tall, sweeping windows gave the building an almost ethereal presence.

“Name, please,” the frontman at the door asked, his tone formal and unbothered. However, soon enough, he noticed your basket. “Ah, you’re the florist Monsieur Neuvillette recommends, correct?” 

"Yeah, that’s me," you replied, surprised the frontman remembered you. You adjusted your grip on the package. "I’ve got a delivery for him, may I enter?" 

"Of course. Do you know your way?" The frontman smiled warmly, stepping aside to let you in. His gaze lingered on the basket in your hands. "I must say, those are beautiful, definitely of Monsieur Neuvillette’s taste." His voice carried a note of admiration as he reached out slightly, tempted to touch the delicate petals.

You subtly drew the basket away, forcing a polite smile. "Ah, indeed," you replied, adjusting your grip on the handle as you stepped forward. The Palais' grand hall stretched before you, its towering columns and gilded accents exuding an air of prestige.

Your nerves held steady as your footsteps echoed across the polished marble. In the air, the traces of melted candle wax enveloped your nostrils as you made your way through winding corridors.

After a short trek, both steadying your nerves and admiring the decor, you stopped before Neuvillette’s office door. Taking a slow breath, you reached for the handle. However, your hand faltered as you looked down at the gift basket with a doubtful gaze. 

You stood for a moment, the grand dark-wooden door towering before you. Would he truly appreciate this gift? Thoughts scrambled in your mind as you hesitated, reaching for the door time and time again, until you heard a faint noise on the other side.

Brows furrowing, you stepped closer, pressing your ear against the door. A deep, brief mumble followed by more murmurs, growing louder with each passing second, until a loud groan broke through the stillness.

Your eyes widened in shock, was he in pain? Panic gripped your chest, tightening around your heart, and without thinking, you flung the door open. But as it creaked, the sound felt deafening, and when you finally saw what was before you, your body froze, the scene before you impossible to grasp.

Neuvillette, in all his elegance, was sprawled out on a nearby couch, his shirt undone in a way that left little to the imagination. Horror twisted your features as you realized what you’d stumbled upon, your eyes involuntarily travelling lower, and lower, with each passing second.

You watched as his head tilted fully over the couch’s armrest. Each hot breath he took seemed to echo in the silence, deep and uneven, as he stroked his cock in a desperate, eager pace. 

His balls were somewhat tangled in his undergarments, as he’d made no effort to take off his trousers. His cock was a light shade of crimson, flicking his wrist, his pace quickened, as his grip tightened around his length.

After what felt like an eternity, completely lost in horror, the moment was shattered when you dropped the gift basket from your hand. It hit the floor with a loud thud, pulling you and Neuvillette back into reality.

Quickly, his head snapped up, his face twisted in surprise as his eyes met yours. He lay there, within the hot mess he’d created, shallow pants escaping from between his lips, each breath strained. 

"Oh! Archons!" you squealed, hastily covering your eyes as you turned away, the heat of embarrassment flooding your cheeks. "I... I just wanted to bring you these. These, on the floor - I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Neuvillette!" 

"No, no, it's quite alright," he replied quickly, his voice coarse, followed by the sound of him shuffling with his undergarments, then the zipping of his flyer.

" Quite alright ?! How could you say such a thing?" You bellowed, your heart racing. "I… I need to leave, I’m so sorry." Panic surged through you, and you blindly reached out for the door, desperate to escape.

However, you choked on your breath as you heard the door slam shut in front of you, the sound sharp and deafening. You jolted, as your eyes remained covered tightly by your hand, feeling a bead of sweat drip down your neck. 

"D-did you just close the door? Neuvillette? Why would you -" you asked, your voice quivering. Your hands flailed in the air, desperately searching for the handle. But you were cut off abruptly, feeling his hand grip your wrist tightly, pulling it away from your eyes.

Standing before you, you glanced up, eyes wide in shock. Neuvillette’s face was flushed, hair tousled, stray strands framing his features. Blue tethers, and more of them, shimmering and pulsing, his eyes were a brighter, fluorescent shade of aqua. Sweat dribbled from his forehead, tracing a line down to his chest.

He looked back at you, his expression stoic and unreadable. "I suppose it is no longer a secret between me and you," he said, his voice low, confusion twisted across your panicked face.

"I..." Neuvillette began, his gaze sweeping over you one last time. "I am… a dragon." The words hung in the air, leaving your mouth a gape. You could’ve come up with a thousand things he could’ve said instead, but this? This was entirely unexpected.

“What? I don’t understand, why, why do you say that?” You shook your head, taking a step back, his grip on your wrist falling. “Is this some sort of joke?”

The office fell into an awkward silence. "If what you're saying is true, then," Your eyes narrowed as confusion gave way to frustration, "then how is that relevant?! I just walked in on... on... oh! Never mind!" You threw your hands up in embarrassment, trying to push the image from your mind.

“I am in heat.”

Wide eyes, taking in his figure, he still dripped with an uncomfortable amount of sweat, the stains dark against his white shirt. In his stance, he stood tall, almost unaware, as his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath he took. Once again, your eyes couldn’t help but travel lower, his cock straining within his pants, leaving a thick imprint down the side of his thigh.

If your brain could combust into flames, now was definitely the time. You winced, covering your eyes once again. “Oh, Neuvillette! What do you mean you’re in heat?!” 

His expression remained steady, unaffected. Meanwhile, you felt like you were suffocating in a wave of mortification. You wanted to run, to disappear, to forget this ever happened. 

"My apologies," he said, his footsteps drawing closer. "Come now, it’s alright," he uttered, as he gently but decisively tore your hand away from your face once again. 

You shook your head in disbelief, clutching it in a tight grasp as you swatted his hand away, whining in anguish. "I don’t understand!" 

The fact that he could remain so calm stood in contrast to the storm in your head. Deep down, you knew - this moment, this absurd, intimate shift between you - it had changed your relationship forever. There was no going back.

"I realise this information is rather difficult for a human to take in." Neuvillette tilted his head slightly, his long strands of white hair shifting, his tethers bobbing gently. His gaze remained steady, as if trying to decipher the emotions written across your face.

Slowly, in the back of your mind, it all started to add up. His strange presence, his unearthly aura. Every resident of Fontaine knew of his age, yet it was said that his lifespan was a divine gift from the Archons, but Neuvillette was not one to lie. 

Another bead of sweat ran down his forehead as his words hit you, “I… don’t know what to say.” You sighed, face remaining almost as hot as lava. “I can’t believe I just… walked in on… you…”

The pair of you stood there for a beat, in an awkward, tense silence. "I just wanted to check up on you, the way you’d left in such a hurry, you worried me.” You muttered, voice low.

Slowly, Neuvillette’s hand lifted to gently touch the side of your head. He stroked your temple softly, which made you flinch at first, before you accepted it. He continued to stroke your temple, his touch more deliberate now, grounding you, and your nerves began to settle.

A hot pulse shot through your body, like a bolt of lightning. The words that left his mouth left you speechless. "I’ve always thought you were beautiful." A soft smile crept onto his lips, tender as he looked at you. The tension in the air shifted. 

“What?” you choked out, but before you could finish, a jolt of a now electrifying pulse ran down your spine. A squeak shot through your lips, as his soft strokes to your temple soon were replaced with a soft squeeze of your cheek.

Eyeing his hand upon your head, you opened your mouth to speak, but stopped. "Normally, I'm able to contain it , but earlier, when you bent over... it just struck a chord within me," Neuvillette admitted.

Neuvillette’s hand quickly traveled down to your chest as you breathed shakily. He began to loom closer, his figure towering above you, as if you were the smallest thing in the world. 

“Neuvillette - what’s gotten into you?” Voice quivering, as your gaze followed his hand, you breathed shakily, soon feeling his hot breath surge across your face. 

“I told you, I am in heat.” He replied in a low whisper, “Do you wish to satisfy my needs? Is that why you haven’t left yet?” 

You stood still, unsure of what to say; however, after a while, his touch soon turned relentless. Toying with the course fabric of your coat, as his hand then slipped beneath its folds, fingers meeting your waistline. They travelled up and down, in a slow motion, before his thumb began to circle your hips. 

His immediate shift in demeanor made your insides twinge. One hand simply became two, sliding your coat off as he then gripped onto your waist, rubbing circles harder and harder, as he slowly pushed you towards the couch. 

You stumbled backwards, your back hitting the plush settee with a soft thud. Glancing up at him, his hair strung down, tickling the tip of your nose. His expression hadn’t faltered, but soon turned to one of lust, his eyes had grown half-lidded, complemented by the flush still set on his face.

At the back of your mind, you knew that you’d wanted this for months, but you still couldn’t shake the waves of embarrassment. It began to wash over you, shifting your gaze away in an attempt to hide your face. 

Neuvillette's slender finger reached up to your chin, gently forcing it back into place, as the action alone reminded you that his eyes were all on you. 

His finger then travelled down to your shirt, he began to unbutton it at a medium pace. Your chest rose up and down with every short breath you took, heart beating like a bunny rabbit. Soon, your skin was freed, the air nipped at it as he slid your shirt off, letting it fall onto the couch. 

Your eyes soon glanced up at his shirt, patchy and gray, as it hung loosely over his shoulders. You debated whether you should reach out, slide it off as he just did to you, but there was no need, as he undid the remainder of his buttons. 

The pair of you were soon skin to skin, as he took a seat beside you, pulling your figure onto his lap. His sheathed length pressed against your clothed sex, still wary, you decided not to melt into his touch too heatedly. 

That was before a lukewarm sensation found its way around your nipple. He propped you up higher, his hands clasping your ass, as he was eager to get a better taste. All you could do was moan, head slumping beside his, the scent of his sweat engulfing your nose. 

Soon, you let out a wince, as he harshly squeezed your ass without warning. His fingers toyed with your clothed flesh, touch almost comparable to a beast longing to rid you of any restraints.

He still eagerly sucked on your nipple, which soon turned to slight nipping. By now, your mind was elsewhere, and you’d completely melted into him. You could tell he was growing hungry, his clothed cock which strained against his trousers prodded and poked at your sex. 

A deep moans escaped your lips, as you felt his cock twitch at the sound of yourself. With a pop, he freed your nipple from his lips, he grunted shallowly as he watched the trail of saliva travel down your abdomen. 

He freed your ass from his squeezed grasp, as his fingers began to toy with the hem of your trousers, soon unbuttoning them like he did with your shirt. He toyed and toyed, but taking such a thing off in this position was rather difficult.

You huffed in frustration, eager to free the rest of your body, you silently opted to stand and pull them off yourself.

However, there was no need. A harsh rip rang out through the office. Neuvillette let out a deep grunt, muscles tense, as he split them in half with ease. A long, garish tear travelled down your trousers, causing you to glance down in surprise. 

If it were any other scenario, you’d be in uproar, but there were other matters at hand.

You watched as Neuvillette’s hand travelled lower, followed by another deep grunt as it cascaded with a moan of your own. His slim index finger swiftly pulled your undergarments to the side, as it shadowed over your hole. 

You found yourself eager and waiting until he paused. Glancing up at him, confused, his eyes knowingly met your own as he tapped your chip. Opening your mouth, you allowed his finger in, tongue curling around it as you lathered it in saliva. 

No time was to be wasted, as he soon slid it out, a trail following along as he shadowed your hole once again. A relieving, passionate moan rang from your lips as he pushed it inside. 

You coiled inwards, forehead resting upon his shoulder, as you took his finger deeper. After a pause, allowing you to adjust, he began to thrust it up and down, in and out, until you became a steaming, moaning mess.

One finger soon turned to two, as his motions grew swifter with every passing second. You licked, nipped, and whined against his shoulder, as you subconsciously began to bounce up and down, chasing that approaching high. 

It was coming, you could feel it bubbling, steaming, as it continued to build with every inch his fingers grew deeper. Yet, the feeling faltered within an instant, leaving you eager and breathless, as you just were on the brink of short-circuiting. 

“Not yet,” Neuvillette muttered lowly, sliding his fingers out of you with ease. You shot him a look of disappointment and almost began to plead, before he answered for you.

Gently, he carefully helped you off of him, as he then stood up, now unbuttoning his trousers. In silent excitement, eyeing up his bulge, you also stood to take off your ripped pair. Though before you could even start, he softly pushed you back down. 

You slumped against the couch as you noticed that his expression was not one you’d witnessed before. A shift of fabric, the sound of his zipper, a tug and then a grunt. Your eyes travelled downwards, your mouth gaping as you took in the sight in front of you.

His cock seemed a lot larger up this close, your face contorting as your nerves began to heighten. It was long, thick with girth. Precum oozed out of him like a broken faucet, as he rewarded himself with a light stroke.

You whimpered, “How… is that even going to fit?” Your eyes widened and then narrowed, tilting your head back and forth as you contemplated the question.

“It’ll fit,” Neuvillette stated bluntly, stroking himself once again. His stare grazed over you, like he was sizing you up. You couldn’t tell if you hated it, or if it was just that his shift in manner unsettled you.

Though before you could even rebut against his claim, his hands found themselves toying with your flesh once more, squeezing your thighs. He ushered you to stand, but before you could even gain your balance, he twirled you around and pushed you back against the sofa, a lot more forceful this time. 

Ass up in the air, your thoughts began to wander, reminding you of the events that morning. You waited, and waited for Neuvillette's touch to find its way back onto your body. But it never came, causing you to look over your shoulder.

A gasp escaped your lips. He’d taken his trousers completely off, and his balls were now on complete display. They looked packed to the brim, as they hung below his oozing cock. He let out a slight wince as he stroked the aching tip once more.  

“I don’t know if I’m sure about -” Your face plummeted into the couch, smushing against its pillow.

Neuvillette’s cock entered you like a bullet, stretching your hole as your walls tightly wrapped around his length. You bellowed in pain, latching onto anything you could find, as he pushed himself in deeper and deeper. 

Shallow and coarse, a string of uneven moans left Neuvillette as he held your hips firmly against his. You felt his cock twitch as it strained inside of you, drops of sweat fell from his body fell coldly against your back. 

“It hurts! It’s too big!” You squealed, trying to edge yourself away, but his grasp held you in place, reminding you there was no turning back.

“You just need to adjust, you’re tighter than I imagined.” Neuvillette choked out between hot pants.

Your eyes tightened shut, gritting your teeth together. Slowly, he began to inch his cock in and out, the squelch from his juices mixing with yours, as the lustful sound of skin slapping together became more apparent.

Louder and louder, faster and faster, you moaned and moaned. It hurt, a lot, his cock was thick and unruly against your hole, but soon the pain was replaced with pleasure. 

Neuvillette began to let himself go completely, fucking you against the couch. His hand pinned your head down to the plush surface, his foot propped up beside your ass, as your back arched in a way once thought impossible.

His other hand soon gripped onto your hip, pulling you in closer. You felt his tip hit a spot deeper, feeling the slap of his balls, sending a fiery pulse across every inch of your body. “Neuvillette!” Was all you could say between your moans.

“Repeat it,” He grunted, his grip on the back of your head tightening.

“Neuvillette!” Again, “Neuvillette!” Each time you moaned out his name you felt his cock twitch and pump harder.

At this point, you were in a mating press. His long white hair stuck ickily to your body, adding to the sensation of having your hole abused by his cock. However, you gasped as he pulled you up along with him by your hair.

Without pulling out, you felt his cock twist and turn, as he sat you up so that you were in his lap. Not a moment to spare, he bounced you up and down with ease. You bit sharply into his shoulder, every squelch and slap of skin sending you into a lustful psychosis. 

“Look at me,” He ordered, but you couldn’t. The burning sensation building inside of you was far too intense, and you no longer had a pillow to grapple onto.

Neuvillette didn’t appreciate this. He gripped your hair once more, pulling your face away from his shoulder. Through half-lidded eyes, mouth wide open, you both breathed shakily, as you both looked at each other. 

He looked a mess, hair tousled, flushed cheeks, yet, his beauty remained untouched. If anything, it was more striking like this. Raw, unguarded, and real. There was intensity in his gaze, and it made your heart stammer in your chest.

He looked back at you, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes as his movements grew slower, almost hesitant, sloppy, even. His hands left your ass, hovering in the air for a moment. 

You didn’t understand if he was out of breath, if he wanted you to ride him. That was until his strong, muscular arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you upwards as he thrusted his cock deeper than ever. 

Whatever noise that left your mouth was certainly one you hadn’t made before. Relentless, he fucked you harder as he squeezed you tightly against him. You could hardly breathe, head growing dizzy, as your abdomen began to do somersaults. 

“Neuvillette! I’m gonna cum!” You bellowed, his cock not once faltered in abusing your insides.

Your breaths mingled with his, filling whatever space was left between you in a desperate rhythm. Overwhelmed, your body trembled as the moment rose. You reached your high, walls tightly engulfing his cock, making it harder for him to thrust.

Neuvillette soon followed, his breath warm against your cheek, as deep moans weren’t hard to escape his pursed lips. The intense pressure made your skin tingle, as his voice vibrated from his chest.

One last time, you felt his cock twinge once more, before, he unloaded the entire contents of his balls inside of you. He pressed you down deeply, as if his cock was a spear, not wanting to spare even a drop of his cum. 

Neuvillette quivered as he filled you to the brim, grip still fiercely tight around you. You gasped as you felt it dribble out, running down your inner thighs, soon meeting the couch's surface. 

The pair of you were far too exhausted to care about the aftermath. Whatever mess had been made, whatever mark left behind, it didn’t matter. All that existed now was the shared silence, the heavy breathing, and sweat merging in a sticky sequence. 

After a momentary pause, regaining energy, Neuvillette’s grip softened, shifting into something more tender as he pulled you into a quiet, heartfelt embrace. His forehead rested against yours, eyes closed, breath still unsteady. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, as if the weight of everything had finally caught up to him.

“It’s okay,” you muttered back, your voice soft against his skin. “I… I enjoyed it.” The words felt fragile leaving your lips, but honest.

You rested together in the quiet, the room dim and still. Faint lamplight flickered across the walls, and the air was thick with warmth and the scent of… something sticky. Outside, the world felt far away, like this moment belonged only to you and Neuvillette.

Soon, his cock, which remained nestled deep inside you, began to grow soft. More of his cum began to spill, creating a rather large pool around you both. You went to lift yourself off of him, but his hand gently stopped you, holding you in place.

“You can’t,” he said softly, his voice steady but carrying a hint of something deeper. 

“Why?” you asked. You looked up at him, waiting for an answer. He avoided your gaze, tussling with his hair as he pulled a strand stuck to his chin away.

“I’ve knotted.” He replied, you lifted an eyebrow, until a flicker of realization crossed your mind. For a moment, you were speechless, the reality in that you’d just fucked a dragon finally clicking in your mind.

Even if you wanted to move, you realized there was nothing you could do. The thought of causing him discomfort made you pause, and so you stayed, sinking deeper into his embrace, allowing yourself to relax in his arms.

After a short while, he broke the silence, his voice tentative. “We’re still friends, aren’t we?” His words hung in the air, a hint of uncertainty behind them as he searched your expression for reassurance.

You thought for a moment, guilt panging in your chest. The innocence of his question, so simple yet loaded, “Of course we are,” you replied softly, offering him a reassuring smile. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thank you,” he said, his chest rumbling as the sound of his voice carried out low and smooth. A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Perhaps next time, I can take you out on a date first.”

You both laughed softly, the sound barely more than a breath, but it eased his lingering worries. Wrapped in each other’s arms, with warmth settling between you like a quiet promise, you let the silence speak for itself.

A/N: I really rushed this towards the end. I know it’s lacking some depth and is just a bit off, but I really can’t be bothered to go back and rewrite it. Hopefully it wasn’t too bad, I hope you enjoyed!

MASTERLIST

[levvthan]

𝐊. 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐆

♡ Smut One shots (MDNI)

the grand event | heisenberg x f! reader

♡ Headcannons

dad! heisenberg headcannons

dad! heisenberg headcannons (pt. 2)

dad! heisenberg headcannons (pt. 3)

MASTERLIST

[levvthan]

We need more Dad Heisenberg i love how you wrote him!!

Now this is probably just me but i at least see Karl being a dad to a older son and younger daughter. And I would love to request the cute moments Heisenberg has with them, mostly asking how would be experiencing all their firsts, like first words and first steps, you get the idea. But just funny fluffy headcanons.

oh my gosh i absolutely love this dynamic idea! thank you for requesting!

dad! heisenberg headcannons (pt. 2) - heisenberg x f! reader

♡ milestones

he swears that he's going to make their first words something cool like boom, fuck or bitch

"Can you say bitch? Say bitch for daddy."

son's actual first word? "Dog" ... Karl was actually quite offended

daughters first word? "BOOM!" (he may of let her press the detonator button once or twice)

when his son takes his first steps, Karl gets so excited that he mistakably cheers too loud and scares the living shit out of him

"Karl you idiot! You made him trip!" ... "No, no, come on - try again! OH SHIT LOOK AT HIM GO!"

with his daughter, he's far more careful with his voice (you had to remind him to keep it down this time)

that is until she practically sprints across the room to him

he's so overjoyed he picks her up and spins her around in the air

"My girl! Look, she did it!" ... "Karl - Don't drop her goddammit!"

his son would be a lot like him, and it really shows during his first tantrum

he is fascinated with his dads hammer, constantly trying to hold and touch it

whenever you or Karl would take it away he'd go into full-blown meltdown mode

"My boy, you quite literally can't even lift it." ... "Karl - how many times? I told you to keep it out of his sight!"

*louder screaming as Karl puts it on a shelf*

with his daughter, her tantrums are silent... but deadly

she ends up going teary eyed, comparable to a sad puppy, which makes Karl feel incredibly guilty

"Don't give me that look." *eyes intensify* "... OK, fine. You win."

♡ time with his son

Karl would insist on his son following in his footsteps in being an engineer

he'd teach his son how to use tools properly, but his son immediately just wants to whack things with them

"No, we use them to fix things, we don't - HEY!" *son bonks him on the head with a spanner*

as his son grows older, they'd spend hours on projects together in Karl's workshop... building questionable contraptions

when you call them for dinner, you'd have to practically force them both to take a shower

*sat around the table* they both reek of oil, Karl has ash smeared on his face, whilst your son looks like he's been subjected to multiple explosions

the two of them wrestle a lot, usually ending in one of them jumping off a piece furniture in order to tackle the other... much to your disapproval

"Darling, do we really need a coffee table? We can just build a new one."

♡ time with his daughter

Karl's daughter would follow him everywhere, practically his shadow

Workshop? She's there. Outside? Right behind him. Personal space? What's that?

"Pumpkin, why don't you go hang with your mom or brother instead?" (secretly, he doesn't want her to leave)

she loves trying to scare him, cackling like a little goblin right after

however, Karl's scarily immune to jump scares, so he often has to pretend

"RAHHHH!" *his daughter jumps out a corner* "JESUS! - goddammit! You scared me!"

his daughter would also be obsessed with his hair, she'd constantly ask to braid or style it for him

"You're going to look so pretty daddy." ... "Great."

if she'd braided it, he'd often forget to take them out, you'd see him and almost choke

she would also pester him to play dolls, even though he was terrible at it and 'made everything boy-ish' (her own words)

"Hello, I am - uh - Mr... Metal-Man World Destroyer. I am here to DESTROY the castle! Mwhahaha! " ... "NO daddy! He's a knight!"

his son would walk past her room, snickering, earning a death glare from Karl

[levvthan]

dad! heisenberg headcannons - heisenberg x f! reader

♡ I've been thinking recently, which is not a good thing.

I’ve been wondering what Karl would be like in a family dynamic, free from Miranda, with his own wife and some kids.

Prepare yourself for some silly, modern, random ass headcannons!

♡ overly protective of his family

due to his past he carries a heavy weight of trauma on his shoulders, even though he doesn't realise it

so, over protective is actually an understatement

after finding out you were pregnant he'd end up booby trapping the house in order to keep you safe

if anyone was to hurt one of his family members the next thing you'd see was their house on the news, with a car wedged through the window... literally

his kids being bullied? the school will be having a very lengthy conversation with him, through their now broken office door

he's crap at regulating his emotions, but he tries extremely hard to learn how manage them after scaring his family once or twice

after a few years you'd managed to get him to calm down a bit, reassuring him that nothing bad would ever happen to you or his family

eventually, he did replace the boobytraps with a security system

♡ cant cook for shit

anytime him and his s/o would try to cook together, it’d always end up in a kitchen feud

sticking to the recipe? nonsense.

he’d be adamant that he knew what he was doing *cue the rare beef he’d dropped on the floor*

he'd end up stock piling ready meals in the fridge, along side his many cans of stellar

you would have to chide him for leaving empty microwave burger packets scattered around the kitchen

when summer came around, he’d be adamant that he could work the grill, until he manages to somehow charcoal everything to dust

“here you go kids, eat up.” … *insert image of RE7 food*

♡ DIY expert

almost everything in your home would be built by his bare hands

when it came to repairs, there was no need for a handyman, daddy karl’s on the case immediately

instead of buying furniture he’d insist on making it himself

when his first child was born he built them their own crib, with its own built in cot mobile

his baby would absolutely adore the lullabies it played… until the old media player he’d hooked up to it started to turn static

he’d also insist on making his children their own toys

however, they’d always end up being some sort of mechanical uncanny valley trinket

regardless, his kids still loved whatever toys he’d make them… leaving everyone else a bit creeped out

♡ chaotic vacations

he’d end up packing one outfit, his coat, hat, sunglasses and a pair of underwear, maybe two pairs

“What do you mean you only have one change of clothes, Karl?” … “But you packed two boxes of cigars and a wrench?!”

he’d be fully locked in during booking at the airport

however, if the flight had been delayed he’d probably end up getting you all blacklisted

once his family boards the plane, he’d offer his kid the window seat

“Daddy, I’m scared.” … “Don’t worry kiddo, as of last year only 28 planes crashed, and only a few hundred people were killed.”

and no… he wouldn’t clap when the plane landed… only when it’d take off to cheer his now crying child up

at the beach he’d complain about how hot it was, since he’s so used to living in cold climates

you’d have to facepalm yourself out of embarrassment when he pulls up with his hammer, which had somehow passed airport security

"Darling, it's for protection." *smashes open a coconut*

his kids would hound him to play or build sand castles with them

but he'd end up taking it a bit too far, as he shows you around the fully functioning fortress of sand and metal scrap

♡ bedtime stories? more like horror scripts

whenever you're too tired to put your kids to bed Karl would instead

you'd have to hope that you wouldn't end up with your children in your bed, due to a nightmare

"And then, the big bad Lycan jumped out of the bushes, it's fangs bared and blood soaked, as he ate the man alive - screaming for his life!"

needless to say, you ended up having to buy child friendly story books for him to read from

[levvthan]

requests (open)

MASTERLIST

i may take a while to get around to writing certain requests depending on what fandom i'm currently fixated on!

how to request: submit a request through my ask box

fandoms i write for:

resident evil

genshin impact

apex legends

i won't write:

incest

underage / paedophilia

scat & piss kinks

polyamory

smut for F x F relationships

ships (i'm fine with oc's and yumeships)

everything else is perfectly fine!

fyi: the majority of my ‘x reader’ works are gender neutral. if you’d like to request please specify the readers gender. otherwise, i'll write it as gender neutral friendly.

[levvthan]

his apprentice. | dottore x m! reader

NSFW CONTENT BELOW - MDNI Ao3 link → click here

words: 8,308

summary: "Terms and conditions, page 6." He took a brief moment to peer back down at you, grin wider than ever. "I acknowledge and consent to any assignments prepared by Il Dottore which may involve living organisms, such as humans, animals or oneself will be seen through and finalised."

By the Tsaritsa's orders, not much to Dottore's liking, you where sent to work under his wing acting as his apprentice.

!! content: masochism, pain, oral sex, anal sex, multiple orgasms, smut, recorded sex, mentions of needles, razors, self-harm

"Scalpel." Dottore asked you to hand him the blade on the metal tray you grasped in your hands.

Deep in concentration, he was working on a patient, a deceased patient with perfect organs to be specific. Unfortunately, 046 had only recently passed away due to... a 'self-injury'. At least, that's what it said on paper. It wasn't in Dottore's best interest to allow the other harbingers, and of course the fair Tsaritsa herself, catch wind that his patients where committing suicide. There's no problem in bending the truth, right? As a result, he noted on his documents that the patient had suffered from a grave wound, and that 046 where ruined goods who needed to be put down. And of course, he did not fail to mention that the patient where now to be farmed for there organs. 

You on the other hand, also shared a significant interest in science with the Doctor. Had already been affiliated with the Fatui for a while, you'd finally gained the Tsaritsa's attention. Aside from your usual duties acting as a informant, experimenting with chemicals and whatnot on the side became one of your most profound hobbies. The Tsaritsa became so fascinated with your work that she ordered you to work under Dottore's wing, acting as his apprentice. Though with this being said, Biology was not your strong suit. Yes, you where intelligent but never made it far enough to practice in more of a professional setting. Even so, you where indeed captivated by the human body, how it works, its functions and even death. This was the perfect opportunity for you to extend your knowledge, able to watch Dottore's sleigh of hand work away at the carcass.

"I won't ask you again. Scalpel, now." Dottore promptly clicked his fingers, ushering you to concentrate on his face when he leaned up. Blood painted his frame, head to torso. The only thing keeping his face clean was the flimsy surgical mask he was wearing, he tore it down below his chin - his stance telling you that he was irritated. It seemed that you did that a lot actually.

"Hmm.. are you sure? Wouldn't a larger blade prove beneficial?" 

"Who are you to question me?" His voice raised as it bounced off of the labs walls, yet you didn't flinch, you didn't even move, you remained stoic with a raised eyebrow as you did as he instructed. This particularly bothered him, not the handing of the tool but how unbothered you where. Silently judging him. Not even intimidated by his presence. By all means, he never wanted an apprentice or an assistant though he could not refuse the Tsaritsa's orders. Deep down it had damaged his ego, but that was to not ever be revealed. 

"You really do get on my fucking nerves." Dottore grimaced, raising his medical mask with scalpel now in his hand. He turned back to his patient, only just to turn again to face you.

Archons, you really knew how to get under his skin. There where a lot of ways on how you did it, you never made conversation unless the topic was something snide. Never even defending yourself when he'd call you every name under Teyvats sun. If you where to put your finger on it, what irritated Dottore the most was the fact that he couldn't distinguish if you really where just an irritating asshole, or if it was just a facade you put on just to displease him.

"My apologies, sir. May you care to explain? I'm not sure how I have annoyed you." An innocent question really, raising an eyebrow and tipping your head at an angle.

To be quite frank, he was stunned that you had talked back to him. Though he knew he shouldn't be as it was practically the norm with you now. But he hadn't grown used to it, he always made sure he had the final word with everyone. But with you, it was more complicated. You loved to snap back, to push him further. Shifting his gaze to glare at you with his piercing eyes, hand on his hip as he ripped off his mask this time and balled it in his fist.

"You love this don't you? You absolutely adore testing my patience!"

Of course you where aware of what you where doing, you made him seethe but his reactions always amused you as per usual.

"Doctor, I am now merely just observing you work and asking questions." A sly smile formed on your face, absolutely irking him.

The Doctor huffed, that was it, he was done with you for the day. Instructing one of his clones to fill in and tutor you other than himself, so that he could retreat to his other duties aside from dealing with you for the day. Archons, if you could laugh as hard as ever right then you would of. He looked borderline enraged. Who where you to come down here under his will, and irritate him to the point where he couldn't even concentrate? A thorn in his side, a distraction to his work. Yet despite his complaints, the Tsaritsa firmly insisted he was to tutor you as long as deemed fit.

"May I remind you that Tsaritsa did mention that you where the only one eligible to tutor me, not your clones." You observed as he removed his surgical gloves, the rubber slapping together as he snapped them off as it filled the thick silence. He brought his fingers to pierce his bridge atop his nose, jaw forcefully clenched. 

"Confirm just one thing for me first, L/N." Dottore sighed raising a finger, "Do you achieve anything by witnessing my frustration with you?"

"The only thing I'd like to achieve is success. By being your apprentice I'll be able to do this, surely?" 

A strain of curses left Dottore's mouth. Watching his every twitch of annoyance as he marched away, the tall wooden doors what lead from the lab to a corridor where shoved open as quickly as they had slammed shut. Though it wasn't a bother, it just proved your point that he was unstable. Success. With your tutoring session being cut short perhaps it was time to turn in for the night, you had been watching him hack away at that carcass for a while now anyway.

The room you had been allocated wasn't too far from Dottore's personal chambers actually, given that the building was massive. Plus, the space was pretty nice. Fancy patterns where engraved into the wood panelling along the walls, a cold hue of many different shades of blue resembling Snezhnaya and it's snowy plains. You had made some minor adjustments though, some houseplants and a small work station setup in the corner. Not to mention, your bed was extra comfortable with multiple fluffy blankets and feathered pillows. In the night, when it was extra cold, you had no need for a heater when cuddling up underneath your duvet would suffice.

You closed the door behind you, taking off your shoes as to not get the floor dirty. Sighing as you finally had some privacy, it was time to unwind as you grabbed a few towels and a bottle of your favourite wine. One of Dottore's clones, Zander to be specific, had gifted it you the other day - knowing it was your favourite. You had grown accustomed to living like this for the past three months, it was luxurious to say the least. Not only did you have a expensive bedroom, but also your own en-suit.

As you went to run your bath, your mind lingered on the former conflicts you've experienced with Dottore. You only but giggled when you recalled the horrifying look on his face when the Tsaritsa had first informed him of her plans. To say the topic pissed him off was an understatement, his whines and complaint where like music to your ears. It was funny really, you loved seeing him all worked up and irked by your presence. That man was smug, a know it all. The satisfaction was empowering to you really, knowing you could go as far as you liked and he couldn't even do anything about it. 'Oh I was just asking a question Doctor', 'My apologies if I have upset you, Doctor', 'Being my tutor I thought you'd have more patience with me.'.

Bubbles and steam began to rise within the bathtub which was when you undressed yourself, setting your glass of wine to the side. Wandering over to the mirror, you dropped your shirt onto the bathrooms chilly floor. Gazing at your figure, your finger traced the scars on your chest, eyes peering down at the smaller ones coating your thighs. All in places where no one could see, having a particularly nasty one just beneath your peck. You wondered what Dottore would say if he saw them. There where too many to claim that they where battle scars, including the placement seemed far too calculated. Would he be concerned? Would he comfort you? Though, you didn't harm yourself because you where sad. In fact, you loved pain. Just a little cut, bruise or even a harsh squeeze when you touched yourself at night was enough to make you cum. Perhaps, tonight was one of those nights.

Settling in your hot bath, you hadn't failed to bring a little tool along with your wine in order to make your evening alone more pleasurable. A small, light incision was made on your chest. Hand already wrapped around your hard cock, you began to stroke yourself gently. Teasing, your mind wandered back to Dottore. The way his brows furrowed as he worked, the way his hands moved so elegantly, the way he shouted at you and called you horrible names. All his failed attempted to make you feel like shit, his words unknowingly fuelled your desire for him. Replaying your thoughts as if it was a movie, your hand worked faster as you pictured that he was the one tugging on your cock. You thought about what he would say if he where to find out you where touching yourself, imagining him nude as he loomed over your smaller frame. He would definitely laugh at you, calling you a pathetic whore while degrading you further. Faint whines and whimpers passed between your lips, your face became flushed as you pressed down harshly on the open wound you had inflicted on yourself moments prior. You moaned out his name as he still lingered on your mind as you reached your high. Cum painting your chest, you let out a shaky breath before sinking lower into the warmth of the bath. 

With that being done, you cleaned yourself off promptly after relaxing for a little while longer and finishing off your wine. It tasted unusual to say the least, a slightly sour aftertaste. Swirling the glass, you peered down at the remaining drops filling it. Strange, it usually tasted rich and tannic. Had that bastards clone gifted you stale wine? But how could that even be possible, unless the bottle had been opened beforehand?

There wasn't much else to do other than take yourself to bed and ponder, skin now soft, you began to feel rather sluggish. Silk button up pyjamas, your feet touched the icy wooden floor as you went to turn the light off. Room now dark, the only source of light was the moonlight what loomed through the window. Your mind still remained on Dottore and the wine, though they kept traveling further and... further away until it was submerged by fog.

Thud. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips, a singular bright white light strained your eyes as you where abruptly awoke by having water pour down your face. The last thing you had remembered was... well fainting. Your eyes puffy, head pounding, you where in a stone cold room where Dottore normally practiced on his patients. When did you get here? Struggling, you realised your arms and legs had been restrained as you lied on top of a hard mattress. How many hours had it been? In a daze, your sluggish mind attempted to recall the events of the moments before you fell asleep, but there was nothing to remember. 

"How was your sleep, hm?" Dottore hummed, clipboard in hand. "You've been out for a while now. Seems like that wine really did the trick."

Remaining silent, his footsteps echoed as he positioned himself behind your head. You attempted to move, turning your head until you winced at a sharp pain. Bastard, you knew not him nor his damned clones where to be trusted, but a bottle of Mondstat's finest alcohol was all too tempting. All you could do was watch his calculated movements as you wriggled under the restraints. You went to curse at him, only to be denied when you noticed a cloth covering your mouth. Biting down in attempt to discard it, it was tightly fastened around your head - thus struggling was no use.

"What's wrong F/N?" He cooed as he leant down to face you, his gloved hands holding your head in place. You where truly stuck in Dottore's grasp as he loomed over you. Gazing up, he had taken off of his mask and placed it on a nearby tray. His eyes met yours, staring into your own with anticipation.

"I really should not be doing this to my dear apprentice." Taking a step back, he chuckled as he trotted along with his speech, "Though it was all too easy, I guess I just cant help myself."

By all means, it'd been common knowledge that you had a knack for being snide. You where more than aware at how it made him tick, perhaps your insufferable comments had finally pushed him too far. But you could appreciate his dedication, this was a new low - even for him. Lacing that wine with whatever he had put in it. As sadistic as he is, you'd never imagined that he would do something as crude as to drug you and strap you down to a surgical bed, like a patient. The Tsaritsa gave him strict rules and boundaries preventing him from laying a finger on you, yet he was defying the Cryo goddess herself. Yet again, you aren't one to lie about having fantasied about something like this before. But it was all too real for your liking, so it seemed.

A piercing scrape echoed through out the stone cold room. Dottore had prepared a selection of utensils what sat neatly on his metal tray. Setting them down beside you and taking his long fluffy coat off, it appeared to you that he was prepping for... an experiment. Watching intensely as he gracefully twirled a scalpel in his hand, you eyed yourself in it's reflection as he positioned it over your eyes. Though you weren't fazed, you knew he couldn't do anything to you without putting himself in a vulnerable position with the Tsaritsa.

"So, F/N. How do you like it, working for me?" He tipped his head in curiosity, allowing you to answer by removing the cloth from your mouth.

"Dottore you fucking-" Slap.

His cold hand had crossed your face, leaving you utterly stunned in shock. It felt as if he had been preparing that one for a while now. Wincing, he stuffed the cloth back into your mouth much deeper this time. Practically choking on the wrenched thing, wide eyes peering up at his shit eating grin. Oh yes, he was enjoying this already.

"I thought you would've been more cautious, the wine was a gift from Zander after all." He tutted, his icy fingertips stroking your chin as he observed how your brows knitted together. "Who knew you where such a sucker for liquor?" 

You didn't want to hear his ramble, yet that was the only thing you could do. He shuffled to the side, paper tray what'd been set to the side no longer remaining idle. He took the first page on his stack, eyes narrowing when you realised it turned out to be the contract you had signed months prior. Clearing his throat, his finger hovered beneath a sentence. It was hard to read from the angle you where positioned at, yet the inking was rather small so you would've struggled to read it even if you where sitting the right way up. 

"Terms and conditions, page 6." He took a brief moment to peer back down at you, his stance confident which was not a good sign at all. "I acknowledge and consent to any assignments prepared by Il Dottore which may involve living organisms, such as humans, animals or oneself will be seen through and finalised."

Gut wrenching dread turned you pale. Putting the emphasis on 'oneself', how in the hells did you miss that? A satisfying chuckle from him did not soothe your anxieties as he found glory in your disturbed expression, he knew exactly what you where thinking. His voice grew deep, his cold breath hitting your neck when he leaned down ever so closer to your skin. "Looks like someone isn't as insightful they claim they are." 

"Now, we shall begin! Unless you don't want to?" Dottore asked sincerely, taking your silence as consent knowing you couldn't respond anyway. "Oh! And I will be recording this by the way, you know the drill by now, having to document these experiment of ours for the fair lady." Directing your attention to the already setup camera atop a tripod to your left.

All he did was take in the expression you held. Full of dread, you'd seen him work before and it was far from anything pretty - he was going to torture you and he even had the audacity to record it. Did he really just want to make you suffer? To kill you? No, he could've done that already by now according to that wrenched contract. 

"I never knew you had such wonderful soft skin." He hummed in approval, raising your sleeves leaving your arms bare as the cold nipped away at them.

Your breath hitched as you felt his gloved fingers run from your wrist to your bicep. All you could do was stare forward, the glaring white light dazzled your eyes but it was far better than giving Dottore the satisfaction on watching his movements. His touch shockingly moved to something more harsh, prodding and squeezing the fat and muscle on your arm. You didn't want to admit that you where actually enjoying this, it'd been a long time since someone had touched you in this manner. 

"Now, I'm going to take a sample of your blood." Already a syringe in Dottore's hand, he tapped the tip as you took a deep breath. "No need to be tense F/N, all you need to do is relax." 

Not even giving you a warning, your eyes twitched as you felt the long needle cut through your skin. Though you couldn't help but direct your attention to watch. The syringe turned crimson, as it slowly drained blood from your arm. Meanwhile, Dottore was having his own fun watching you timidly squirm. It humoured him really, you'd been so sly - a know it all since the day you first met. Yet, now here you where caged in his grasp. He finally had you just where he wanted.

He raised the syringe from your arm, back onto his tray where he wrapped it in a small plastic bag. A small sigh escaped his lips when he stood up, only for you to tense again as his hands travelled to unbutton your shirt. Gloved hands fumbling with the buttons, the cold now nipping away at your chest rather than your arms. Torso littered with scars, your wrists where so soft yet your chest looked wicked. Shivering under Dottore's touch, watching intensely as the words you had to say remained muffled. Though it intrigued Dottore, he allowed you to speak by removing the cloth.

"What are you going to do to me?" Attempting to redirect his attention with strained breath and questions, chest rising when he retrieved a scalpel. 

Your weary tone had surprised the sadistic man stood over you, a deep callous laugh. He had only ever heard you speak in a plain manner, now he was getting somewhere. 

"Just making a few observations." He hummed, "Say, where did you get all these scars from?"

Removing his glove Dottore slowly traced the thin open wound with his slender finger you'd made yesterday, scarlet coating his fingertip as he reopened it. With anticipation, you gazed as he unexpectedly popped it into his mouth. The unexpected action left you with another surprise, blood rushing to your cock as the sense of arousal began to flow through your body. Tongue swirling while the copper taste flooded his mouth, of course he had taken note of your change in attitude. With a pop he released his finger from his mouth, a trail of saliva dribbled down his hand. 

"Would you look at that... my theory was correct all along." His voice low, deeper than you'd ever heard. Drawn out breaths, his hand made it's way closer to your pelvis.

The smug smile on his face made you want to scream, but you couldn't help but find yourself wanting to discover what was next to come. 

"Surely, you wouldn't mind? It's apart of my experiment after all." Finger hovering over the waistline of the bottom half to your nightwear. 

The pit of your stomach burned as you longed for his touch already. It was that your lust had been captured by him, touching yourself every night could never satisfy you to the fullest. No amount of fingers on your hands stuffed inside you could ever guide you astray from the true needs of wanting his cock. Yes, he knew your dirty secret, he'd known it all along. He had just been preparing for the right time to strike, the moment you where most vulnerable.

He pulled your silk pants down, your growing tent now visible in your undergarments. Dottore's crimson eyes only took but a glance, before meeting your own. 

"And only days ago you where claiming I was the sadistic one." He humiliated you, how pathetic you where under his touch. 

Your muffled whines didn't fall on deaf ears, though he kept the cloth in your mouth knowing your speech weren't to be trusted. Tugging your nightwear fully off, your body had been exposed. How twisted, his apprentice now nude beneath him with only underwear covering your most private areas. Observing the additional scarring what coated your thighs, Dottore bit his lip ever so slightly before giving one a brief squeeze. He felt how tender you where, prodding and poking with his slender fingers further as pre-cum stained the cloth covering your cock. You could've came there on the spot, face now red you never knew how much you'd wanted this.

"I've heard you, countless of times in that bathroom of yours. This place may be fancy but the walls are... rather thin." He dipped his head down to your neck, your breath hitching as his surrounded you with warmth. 

A small yet enticing lick, then nibble, until his lips sucked a sweet love bite into your neck. The next one was not so soft, much to your liking, making you whimper as you twitched under his touch. He didn't stop there, he coated your neck and collarbones until they where purple. Until you thought he was finished, he teased a dreary breath, a forceful bite as his teeth snagged at your delicate skin sent you into a paralysis of shock - eyes rolling backwards. Your cock straining, as a long interlude of whines escaped your mouth - muffled by the cloth. The warm sensation, hot and sticky, soiled your undergarments as you fell limp. Dottore only but slowly adjusted himself to observe the unexpected mess you had made, fascinating. 

"Hmm." Pondering, he stripped you of his touch as he retrieved his clipboard. "Subject is most definitely a masochist." The jotting of his pen and his slow breaths made you turn to face him, recovering from your high whilst gazing up at his frame. He finally set it to aside, before then going to remove the cloth what was now drenched in your saliva.

Dottore had half expected you to hurl harsh words at him, though to his surprise you had none to share. You only panted, licking your chin in attempted to recollect strayed spit. Sharing a short lived stare into each others eyes, the signs where already there. You both knew it, your half lidded eyes with your tent already pitched after a small breather.

"Oh, you're a dirty little thing aren't you?" He let out a length chuckle, which you adored as it sent lustful shivers down your spine. "Are you sure you haven't humiliated yourself enough already? This video is going to be reviewed by the Tsaritsa after all."

Eager nods, fully submit. With all due respect, damn the Tsaritsa. You where enjoying this far too much now, what's the harm in experimenting a little further? 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Your eager nods had not gone unnoticed, though Dottore couldn't but help chuckle at the state of you. Who knew you could be persuaded this easily? Only your tutor of course, he wasn't one to be toyed with and you had clearly been too naïve to realise. Now he has you wrapped around his finger, fully submit underneath his will. 

"Tell me, F/N, why did you really want to work down here? Far far away from civilisation, surely there's more to it." Dottore lingered around you, observing your withering state. "There's far more efficient courses above land, such as the Sumeru's Akademiya, or maybe even Liyue."

A genuine question really, and it made sense. Though, wasn't it obvious?

"I... I want to work... here, with you." Hitching breath, dreary eyelids, your answer peaked his interest. 

"And why is that?" He was only but a fraction away from your face, looming over you as stray azure hairs fell from the tuck behind his ears. His hot, soft breaths only inches away leaving you longing for him to grow closer.  

A momentary pause, you weren't sure if you should reveal your secret. Even though Dottore already knew, and had known for quite some time by now, it was all still embarrassing to put into words. Your face flushed, cheeks rosy as the soil in your pants earlier began to dribble. Dottore was growing impatient, he wanted to hear it in your own words, he needed nothing but for you to spill the truth he already knew. The Tsaritsa needed to know what a filthy whore you where, the one filthy whore she had became so fascinated with as of late. Grabbing you by the jaw, you clenched as he had forced you to sit up. His grip was harsh and controlling. A soft moan escaped your lips making his brows furrow, not that it was to his disliking though.

"Answer me." Dottore detested against your dreary silence, his eyes pierced into your own - a mixture of lust and dominance. The truth was he wanted you as much as you wanted him, but there was only one way he could allow himself. He could never let himself be perceived as needy, as wanting to for fill his pleasures, he needed you to give him an excuse. The grip he had on your jaw made its way down to your throat, your breath unsteady as you felt his grip become ever so heavier. 

"I..." Teasing with your words, even when you're trapped in his grasp you still managed to make him tick. You didn't fail to notice his eye twitching as he bit his lip in anticipation for your words, "I need for you to fuck me, Dottore." 

That was it, your consent had been given and there was now going back. Dottore had finally become undone, a low growl could be faintly heard as he slammed you back to lie down. Wincing, you watched as his movements grew more aggressive rather than elegant and taunt. Still being restrained you couldn't do much but watch as he unbuttoned his dark blue shirt in a rough manor. Chest hairs matching the colour what lied on his head, complimented by a faint snail trail leading down to his obvious bulge. He where a lot more buff that you'd imagined, his waist a lot more synched too as his belt hung loosely from his hips. The sight of his torso alone where enough to make you hard again, your eyes danced as you took in the sight of him. 

Dottore took a mental note of how you admired him, it prompted his cock to grow stiffer as his fingers grew closer to the buckle of his belt. He fumbled with it shortly, his slender fingers slowly but surely teasing you as you watched. That was until, he had an idea. He stopped in his tracks. You where practically throbbing, foaming at the mouth even, his change in direction startled you. Fishing something out of his pocket, a key. Not just any key, a key to the restraints wrapped around your wrists and ankles. Oh, if this weren't already getting good. 

"I trust you won't do anything stupid." Dottore muttered, keys chiming as you excitedly waited for your release. "Don't make me regret this."

Rubbing your wrists, peering down at your red ankles, you sat up as you turned to face Dottore. He relaxed his hand on the edge of the bed, his spare one hovered over your thigh as it palmed your crotch. His piercing eyes peering up at your own. It was as if he where waiting for something, something only you could deliver. A kiss, more of a peck really is what it'd been. But he abruptly tore his lips away from yours, strange. It seemed he wanted to kiss you, and more than just briefly. But the thought of such an intimate act would be crossing a line in his book - he hesitated.

"Nuh uh, that won't do." Your voice now capturing Dottores ears, sounding a lot more confident now you weren't restrained. Was that a good idea? It made him shiver to be quite frank, the way your finger had directed his face back in front of your own, "Let's give that another try." Dottore looked perplexed at first, but was shortly amused by your sudden dominance. 

Lips clashing together softly, you held the back of his head this time - soft silky hair in your palm. He tasted sickly sweet, a taste no one would ever had guessed. Lips only slightly chapped, yet still finding yourself satisfied with the way he leaned into your touch. It was one of the most passionate kisses you had ever given. Your lips danced together in harmony, your tongue asking for permission to enter his mouth. Soft grunts from Dottore turned you dreary, he was practically melting. This man had strapped you down, drugged you, even got you to cum without touching your cock once, yet here he is groaning as your tongue coated itself in his own saliva.

You had expected him to scold you for being so cocky this soon but he where enjoying it far too much. Perhaps he was a sucker for kisses? While he was distracted with the passionate moment you both where sharing, your hand sneakily travelled to his waist. Gripping him lightly at first, the moan he let out prompted you to tug him closer as you swerved around on your bottom, so that he where stood in-between your legs as you where perched on the surgery table. Not breaking the kiss once, your thumbs rubbed circles on his pelvis. Dottores tongue now finding its was into your own mouth, he took back his dominance over you far too easily. You whimpered as you felt his hands fall on top of your own, guiding them towards his belt buckle. Already feeling the heat from his clothed tent, the fact you where so close to his cock made you harshly bite down on your lip. 

"What are you waiting for?" Dottore purred against your neck, his breath hot and heavy as you drew the faintest bit of blood. 

Fingers fumbling with the buckle, you finally had a grasp on his zipper. Slowly tugging it down, wanting this moment to last forever. All that remained now was his underwear sheathing his dick, it was right there in your grasp, your needy finger went to tug at the waistband until the unexpected nip Dottore made at your neck caught you off guard. It where already bruised from the session beforehand, making you wince as you lost track at what your hands where doing. 

"Ngh, that hurts." Whining, you earned a chuckle of approval from the man above you. 

"Oh? And isn't that what you like?" He questioned before biting down even harder.

"Mhm..." Was all you could answer as he worked away from your neck, lower and lower down to your chest. You where practically purple by the time he had finished, his lips travelling leaving a prompt nip upon your jawline. 

His teasing and torment made the want of acting on your whims build up, you wanted - no needed to go a step further. Dottore on the other hand wanted it slow, he was to take the lead, but you had other plans. You hadn't agreed to a mere make out session, you lusted for pure intimacy between the two of you. Thus you becoming reckless, growing impatient. 

The position you where in granted you easy access in wrapping your legs around his hips, encasing him in your grasp. Caught off guard Dottore grunted as he fell into you, unexpectedly realising you where quick to fish your fingers into his underwear. Feeling his hard cock twitch as you examined it with your touch, the warmth seized the coldness of your own hand. It felt good, far too good, your hand wrapped around his length as your idle fingers swiftly tugged down his waistband. Dottore on the other hand was shocked, but not surprised. It was common knowledge you where devious, but he hadn't expected you to wield the confidence in taking over so quickly. 

His hands what laid behind you prompted his body from tumbling on top your own, glancing up his face only centimetres away from your own. He took in your distracted expression, sensing the impulse you held. Though the way you acted so eagerly, driven by the crave you had for his presence, made him want the same just as much. You where spontaneous, rude, snide, it was all clear to him now that it wasn't annoyance what made him seethe over you. It was sexual tension - what you had purposefully created. All the times you had 'dropped something' and bent over, ass up in all its glory for him to witness. The way you would gracefully twirl your wine glass, giving him a shameless wink. Even the things you'd do to yourself in the bathroom, calling out his name - though you hadn't planned on him knowing about this one. Dottore was done with your little games, he where now to be in charge of the tension, if you wanted to fuck then he would most defiantly fuck.

Your hand still being wrapped around his aching cock, his underwear now wrapped around his thighs beneath his balls. Beginning to pump him but failing to notice his change in stance. 

"Eager little thing!" Dottore scolded you, his hand coming into contact with your face once again - leaving a harsh red mark. 

Squirming at the sting the impact left, you hadn't expected him to detest your sudden shift in confidence being too caught up in your desires. It turned you on all the bit more, Dottore learnt not to be dissatisfied with your reaction but to embrace it. If not even pain could falter your furtive self, then he'd have to use more forceful ways. 

His hands gripped your shoulders, swerving and pinning you down harshly back onto the surgical bed. It stunned you, his strength being unmatched. Watching with eager eyes as his own fingers found there way to his cock, he began stroking himself at the sight of your pained body. You went to sit back up, to assist him, yet he wanted none of that. 

"How difficult is it for you to follow a simple order?" Voice now deep, his spare hand now pinning you down below him.

Biting your lip as your cock ached, needing to spring free from your own underwear. You knew you had to confirm your submission to get what you wanted, it was the only way he'd ever accept you.

"Please..." Lighter than a whisper you pleaded with faint whines, your expression the softest Dottore had ever seen it. He could tell your pleads where genuine, it sent him into awe, he'd never seen you like this before - who knew you could appear so elegant?

"What was that?" But he longed to hear you again, for you to beg for his touch. He began to touch himself ever so lightly again, in front of you in all his glory.

"I want you... to touch me... please..." You signalled at your throbbing member trapped beneath your clothing, the man above you more occupied with is own pleasure than yours, "Dott-... Zandik..."

What was that? 

You eyed him sneakily, keeping the submit expression you held. Watching the sudden change in expression at the sudden use of his name, his eyes wide as his body momentarily wobbled - moving hand jolting. He ushered his head away from you, to the side, as he bit his lip forcefully. His chest now heavy, he groaned, before the unexpected release of his seed spilled from his cock. It not even giving the chance for him to redirect the stream, or for you to move yourself. It happened all too quickly, his cum painted your chin and chest as it drizzled down your skin in a slow manor. The two of you only but observed what had just happened, you sat up - collecting yourself. But you where still left unsatisfied, even if Dottore had just humiliated himself with not even being able to last five minutes. 

You didn't do anything but utter his name, his real name. Was that really all it took to get him there? Though, before you even had figured it weren't best to jab at this unexpected outcome, your eyes caught his own as he faced to look at you. Half lidded eyes, he examined the way you where still hard, still flush, and now complimented by his cum. 

He pounced on you, hungrier than ever. Lips dancing with one another again. It sent you back into your daze, it was clear he had never left his. All he needed was a momentary breather for his cock to spring back into action, and for you to look at him the way you had. 

A moaning mess as his hand palmed your strained dick, it'd taken so long for things to get to this moment. A build up of excitement, of lust, it all brewed inside of you. He was finally touching you, the man you had longed to have for what felt like centuries. His fingers hurriedly inviting themselves into your own pants, the exact way you did to his own. Tearing them down, his hand teasing your cock before giving you a light squeeze. A moaning, whimpering mess he had made of you as he lowered the surgical bed you lied on with his foot on the pedal.

"You like this really, don't you?" Dottore questioned you as he broke the kiss. Peering up at his starving grin, his eyes more crimson than ever as his stray hairs framed his face. "Getting under my skin all the time, tch- and here you are whimpering, and begging me to fuck you." 

His spare hand raised to grip your face, squashing your cheeks together, before his index finger swiped his cum what plastered your chin. He then went to grip your jaw, you obliged before he forcefully stuck his slender finger down your throat - coated in his own cum. It was still warm, briefly choking on his finger as your tongue swirled as it took in the sour taste. He thoroughly enjoyed watching you taste him, his finger deep in your mouth complimented by your saliva. Your hums of approval vibrating his hand, he swiftly removed it with precision. 

With a satisfied expression plastering his face, Dottore released your face as he gave the side of your head a tap of approval. Body tensing when his finger had travelled downwards, to your chest, to your abdomen, to your pelvis... all the way down to your member. Without even a second of hesitation, he pulled your nightwear down to your knees and then fully off. Observing the dried mess you had made earlier, still warmer than ever. Tossing them to the side, the cold air nipped away at your neglected area, watching in exhaustion as Dottore clambered onto the bed. He spread your legs, his finger examining the scars what coated them for a short while, until he was practically lying on top of you. You felt like prey captured by it's beast, as the finger you had previously coated in your saliva made its way down to your neglected hole.

Whimpering as he teased you, he spread your ass with his hand before pushing his finger deep inside. Dottores eyes capturing the way your cock twitched, your head pulling back as your face scrunched... just the utter lewd sight of you made Dottore fill with bliss, the same as yourself. He wanted you to savour every second of your pleasure, the humiliation of your tutor fingering you all while it was being recorded. Slowly his single finger building up to two... then three... which made your moans grow louder and louder. He longed for you to regret coming here, medalling with his career. Making him look like fool, pissing him off every living second you where down here working for him. Yet, he was giving you exactly what you wanted. Dottore motioned his three fingers in a scissoring like manor, stretching you out in preparation for something greater.

Becoming a hot, moaning mess underneath him. His fingers roughly penetrating you, brushing against your prostate, it was all too much.

"I- I'm gonna-" Gasps and heavy breaths, you felt the pit of your stomach burn before your second release, but, that never came. Dottore had denied your orgasm, swiftly pulling his fingers from your hole as sheer disappointment washed over you. 

He giggled, taking in your desperate face. Your prepped ass before him, your twitching cock aching for more. 

"Are you ready?" He had asked you, all you could do was nod. No words left to be said, just pleads for him to fill you.

Watching with desperate eyes, the way he lifted your thighs to rest behind over shoulders sent shivers down your spine. The way his hands felt so right against your skin, to then travel down to his own cock as he aligned it with your hole. You took a sharp breath , on release you both shared a glance what felt like minutes, but alas it was only for a second. Until he invited himself in, you wrapped around his length perfectly. Your heart pounding, biting down on your lip as he finally had entered you. Dottore let out a few strangled moans of his own, unexpected to how good you felt, pushing himself in until he could go no further.

He went slow at first, savouring every second. The way the sound of your moans danced against his ears made him grip your thighs tighter, until he left crimson marks upon your skin. He began to fuck you harder and harder, letting himself become a slave to his desires. Before you knew it he was pummelling himself into you like there where no tomorrow, it seemed he needed this as much as you did. 

You reached down to stroke your untouched cock, moans and whimpers filling the laboratory as they bounced off the walls. You touched yourself with vigour, Dottore watching the sight unfold before him. He licked his lips, collecting lost saliva from his desperate pants, before an idea struck his mind. Raising one of his hands, leaving your left thigh absent, he deeply pressed down on the recent wound he had made. 

"Ah!" Was all you could let out as you flinched, it stung - it burned. But it felt all too good.

Dottores hand pressed down harder, sweat now finding its way down from his body onto you. 

"You filthy, fucking whore." The way he sounded, you'd never heard this tone before. It made you quiver as the overstimulation finally hit you. 

He went harder, deeper, hitting your prostate too many times. His hand squeezing your wound harder, blood now starting to coat his palm. The right hand he had on your other thigh left, edging its way over to your cock what you grasped. Dottore grabbed your wrist ushering you away from yourself, replacing it with his own. The way his hand tugged on you, the way he was manhandling you like you where his toy. He squeezed, stroked, even spat to create a makeshift lubricate as he picked up his pace. 

You where nearing your end, barley hanging on your moans now shrivelled and weak - Dottores too. Both close to your release, you wanted to savour this tender moment. Despite the lustful fog what clouded your head your hand reached up, and touched his face. Your finger caressed his cheek and then his lip, thought Dottore didn't have time to react to your sudden touch of affection. Quickly leaning up to kiss him so passionately. His moans vibrated against your lips as he opened his mouth, his body tensing along with your own. His cum filled you, painting your insides hot and sticky. Your own release coating his stomach as he laid above you, skin dripping with sweat red and flush. You didn't dare break the kiss, only enjoying the intense moment you both where sharing. 

Dottore didn't want to acknowledge what'd happened, the sudden feelings piercing his heart. But there he was kissing you as his cum spilled inside of you. His grasp on you lightening when he let go, pulling away slowly. He pulled out his cock shortly after meeting your eyes, redirecting his gaze to watch the aftermath leak out of your hole. On the other hand, you only leant back down as a sigh left your lips.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The room now silent, until you felt Dottore redirect his body to stand. He looked as if he had lost something, you'd figured he would be more satisfied with this turnout of results.

"Dottore?" You spoke out, he handed you a wipe before he began to clothe himself. Ignoring you, you sighed and cleaned yourself off before reaching for the nightwear you formerly had on.

"No need to put those back on, I have your usual clothes here." Voice coarse, he gifted you the normal outfit you wore for work. 

Moments passed, you put the clothing on and brushed yourself down. Though you still felt sticky, you needed a shower. But first, you had to know something.

"Are you... alright?" Working up the courage to question your tutor, he was now fumbling with the camera he had set up what captured your intimate moment together. 

He ignored you again.

Sitting up, lifting yourself off of the table. You wobbled, having to catch yourself from falling. Legs feeling almost numb, quite frankly your ass was pounding and sore - not that you minded.

"You shouldn't be standing." He warned you as he watched you struggle over to him, voice stern.

"Then carry me back to my room." Giggling as a sigh then escaped your lips. Letting yourself fall into him as he caught you in his arms, he couldn't help admire you.

Still cheeky, after you'd been through all that. Maybe there was no changing you.

A/N: this fic was posted to my AO3 around three years ago as a request from a friend :p

MASTERLIST

[levvthan]

in the night. | kamisato ayato x reader

NSFW CONTENT BELOW - MDNI Ao3 link → click here

words: 1,621

summary: It wasn't unusual for Ayato to overwork himself, which left you alone most nights. When he returns home, he feels as if he needs a release.

!! content: smut, somnophilia elements, soft ayato

It was getting late. Emerging from your fortress of pillows and blankets stacked upon your king-sized bed, you yawned as you lifted your head up to check the alarm clock sat on the nightstand. 

11:57 pm.

The candles you had formerly set alight were now dripping with their melted wax, blowing them out and leaving a strong scent of lavender drifting in the air of your shared bedroom.

Drearily, you huffed as you settled further into the sheets. You felt a wave of disappointment wash over you, Ayato hadn't come to bed. Yet, you weren't surprised. Almost every night he spent his time working away in his office, singing documents and filling out forms. Overworking himself constantly, rarely catching a moment's peace. He had promised he'd be back early that night, but there you were again spending another night in your empty bed. However, you respected Ayato's official duty and forced it upon yourself to swallow your sadness. That was life you get when your lover is the head of the Yashiro Commission.

Softly shutting your eyes, the rain from outside momentarily occupied your mind, until all you could think about was him. You'd often think about the time the pair of you had spent together, cute date nights, showering together, going on walks. Though, lately the little things that kept you happy seemed all like but a distant memory. Would he even be there when you awoke? Due to how busy his status keeps him, the chances were slim. 

If you where lucky, sometimes you'd wake up in the middle of the night as he sneakily made his way under the sheets. Feeling the warmth of his chest pressed softly against your back, his lanky arms would snake around your waist. Pulling you closer, placing a light kiss into the crook of your neck - hoping to not wake you. That was until, you had realised you truly were half awake.

"Darling?" A faint whisper ushered you out of your sleep, "You're dreaming."

The alarm clock read 1:30 am, you'd only been sleeping for a short while. Stunned, the things your mind was reminiscing on where to be a reality. Here Ayato was cosied up in bed with you, chest pressed against your back while your body was now trapped in his warm embrace. 

"Ayato?" Hazily you whispered, turning your head slightly. Leaning over you, his stray hairs tickled your cheeks as he placed a soft kiss upon your lips.

"You were muttering in your sleep, was it a bad dream?" The moonlight seeped through the cracks in the curtains, outlining the back of his head and messy hair. 

"I..." Hesitantly, you cupped his face in your hand, your thumb stroked his soft skin. 

Examining what you could make out in the dark, you noticed he was only wearing his bed robe. The sleek and silky material had slightly drooped down one of his shoulders, revealing a part of his collar bone. He was really here with you, your stomach fluttered with glee.

"What was I saying?" You questioned him but, actually, you didn't want to know. You didn't want to burden him with your sorrowful thoughts and feelings, not when he had so much on his plate already. But he was here now, that's what mattered to you.

"Purely just mumbling darling." He lightly giggled with a slight rasp in his tone, a sense of relief washed over you.

Ayato settled back down into the comfort of your shared bed, pulling you back into his embrace as he spooned you. He let out a brief sigh, resting his chin atop of your head. Smiling softly, his fingers traced small circles on your arm - that was the touch you had missed. The rain outside hadn't stopped yet, treating you to some peaceful ambience to soothe you back into slumber. 

"I love you." He whispered, nose nuzzling your hair as he placed a kiss atop of your head.

"I love you too, dear." 

The room filled with silence, the sound of the rain from outside slowly growing distant as small breaths passed through your parted lips.

Tossing and turning, Ayato couldn't sleep.

He prompted his head up to peer down at you, figuring you'd already fallen back asleep. He was frustrated, in many ways more than one. Clenching the bottom half of his azure silk robe which drooped over his pale thighs, his stray hand dared to place itself softly atop the side of your waist. Tracing small circles with his thumb, as he subconsciously draped his touch lower and lower.

His mind scattered, a warm burning sensation building up within his abdomen. 

In your sleep, you could've sworn something was poking and prodding at you. Not again, you weren't dreaming this time. Fluttering your eyes open, you hummed in question as you felt something hard press up against the back of your thighs. 

"Ayato? What are you-" Without warning, Ayato shifted himself to press against you with more force, grinding against your clothed ass. You harshly bit your lip, your own lower region growing warm.

He pressed his forehead against the nape of your neck, his hot heavy breaths sending shivers down your spine. His touch turned into fire, as his movements became erratic as he ground harder. A slight soft whimper and moan escaped his lips, grip tightening around your waist as his other hand caught the waistband to your pyjama pants. Sliding them down to your knees, you felt his hardened cock press up against your now bare ass. He was usually more calm and collected, but it'd been a fair while since the two of you had last been intimate. This version of him was different, full of pent up frustration and burning with lust drove him wild.

Feeling how hard he was against your skin, you flushed in embarrassment as the hairs on your neck stood up. You made an effort to play into his desperation and grind your ass back up against his cock, suddenly slipping it through the thigh gap between your legs.

"I'm gonna..." He softly whined, your sudden movements catching him off guard as a warm liquid spilled over your skin.

Heavy breaths, you lied still pressed against him as he came down from his short lived high. 

"I'm sorry." He had choked out, his heart pounded against your back.

After a short while you shifted your body to face him, you gazed up to where his face would be, shrouded in darkness. Actions spoke louder than words, you wanted him to know that it was okay. Your lips met his soft pair, filled with passion. Though, passion turned into a much deeper feeling - hunger. Ayato dared to nip at your bottom lip, you obliged. His tongue shortly finding itself between your lips, then clashing with your own. He moaned into the kiss as it bloomed into a heated make out session.

Your abdomen strained, wanting to feed your untamed salacity. Seemingly so, Ayato felt the same as you felt his cock prod against your legs again.

His kisses travelled down from your lips, to your neck, nipping as he left love bites shrouding your collar bones. Nothing more but his robe covering him, you untied the loosely knotted waistband. Ayatos skin was smooth like silk, as your finger outlined his chest.

He gazed up at you, gripping your hip firmly.

"Turn on your side sweetheart." He spoke hazily, lightly tapping your shoulder.

You shifted yourself backwards, taking your thigh in his hand as he arched it to the side. He took a brief moment to angle himself, oozing with pre-cum, his tip prodded your entrance. His hips bucked upwards, tip hitting your slit as he moaned. He embraced your figure as he pushed himself inside of you, cheeks flushing red as a moan escaped your lips.

Whining, he pushed his cock in as deep as it could fit. He moaned as he stilled his movements, allowing you to adjust to his size. Even so, he began moving at a sluggish pace. His breaths became heavy as he nipped at the back of your neck, thrusts becoming erratic again. Trapped in his embrace, he gripped your body tighter as to push himself deeper. 

Pushing your thigh to the side, moaning as his cock reached your sweet spot. You felt as his cock twitched inside of you, his hands gripping and squeezing your flesh.

"Ayato.." His name escaped your lips, pushing your hips back into his.

All he could do was whine as he pushed in deeper, hands now clenching your body as you winced at his harsh squeezes. Suddenly, Ayato pulled himself up - towering over you. His slender fingers grabbed your chin as he turned you to face him, body moving with his touch. Slamming his lips into yours, your legs wrapped around his waist as he adjusted his cock.

He began to hit all the right places, peering up at him as the moonlight outlined his silhouette. You couldn't keep yourself silent anymore, desperate moans and whines as the harsh slapping of skin echoed throughout your shared bedroom. Ayato noticed this, quickly covering your mouth with his hand, you could only but hope that you hadn't woken anyone on the estate.

"I'm.." Is all Ayato could blurt out, before biting down softly on your neck.

His cum painting your insides as he slid himself out of you. You felt his spill drip from your whole, as his body went limp and flopped on top of your own. A silent moment passed, his stray hairs tickling your chest as he nuzzled into you. 

You both opted to cuddle a little longer, the touch of your skin together too intimate to pass.

My requests are open!

MASTERLIST

[levvthan]

my blog ♡ hi i'm lev, and this is my fanfiction blog! i only use this for posting my works. i am not into ships, so i only write x readers and headcannons. including, i try to keep every work gender-neutral friendly.

fandoms i currently write for ♡ Genshin Impact, Apex Legends, Resident Evil

Masterlist below ↓ My Ao3 Requests info

∘₊✧ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✧₊∘ Last updated: 16/06/2025

♡ Genshin Impact

Kamisato Ayato

Il Dottore / Zandik

Neuvillette

♡ Resident Evil

Karl Heisenberg

♡ Apex Legends

Revenant