#writing: Karl Heisenberg

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Twenty-Nine: Karl Heisenberg + BreathPlay

You were constantly reaching out for Karl's hand. Enjoying the rough feeling of his cussed-covered fingers against your much softer hands.

Karl didn't seem to mind either after the initial shock that someone was touching him. Wantingly touching. You walked hand in hand to meet with the family and sat side by side. Pressed into his side, but continuously your fingers were interlocked.

Hand in hand when you walked around in town, and as much as Karl hated the idea of being around less intelligent people than him. He allowed you to drag him down to the middle of town and walk around the shops before returning to the factory after a long day out.

That was not the only time you wished that you could hold his touch. You yearned for a hand to run smoothly down your back and sometimes rest at the bottom of your spine. You longed for the soft touch of his rough hand.

You are the exact opposite of Karl. You yearn for the touch of another, and Karl yearns to not be touched. Karl is okay with his lonely life before you came along, and he's just as content with living it how it is now.

Yes, you are confused because when you look at Karl, you don't see just a friend, someone to talk to when the nights are quiet, and the factory is slow. No, Karl is something else for you. A bright light at the end of the tunnel. He's what you yearn for.

So when the touch you yearn for splits and turns into a need that you have to fill, something twists within your mind. You start to stare off more. Staring at Karl's hands as he works on bits of metal together, or how he tightness things together on a soldat.

The one that as you biting your tongue and squeezing your thigh together is when his hands stretch out, his metal hammer flying into his hand. It's attractive all on its own. The bludge of his veins, the girth of his fingers, it all has you in a haze.

"Y/n? Are you even paying attention to what I'm talking about?" Karl's booming voice pulls you from your naughty thoughts of his hands. "Huh." You say a bit too loud, and he rolls his eyes, "Earth to Y/n, what's got you being a space cadet today?" He asks, intrigued by your glazed-over eyes and gap mouth.

Karl has never seen you like this, and he's seen you in many ways. Blood smeared across your cheeks. A mixture of your own and others, your shirt half tore due to lycans desperately in need of stitches. Bare skin that makes his heart race every time he catches a glimpse. Y/n had been off, and Karl had taken notice. Take notice of how your gaze drifted from his face, down his arms, and then finally landed on his hands.

"I'm just… it's all fine." You say to Karl, trying to push away the fact that you not only got caught but also have no idea you were spacing out. His stare is deathly; you're an open book for him to read as much as he likes.

"No… I don't believe you. I think you were off dreaming…" You shake your head, trying to push him away from the right path he's already on. "Don't shake your head at me now, buttercup. Better if you just fess up to what you were thinkin' about." You feel like a deer in headlights. Wide-eyed and easily scared off.

The silence is unsettling, "Oh, buttercup, you want me to guess instead." Smirking up a storm, you think that's rather a good idea, and then it's a bad idea. But there's nothing else you can do. If you say the words, then it's all too real, but if he guesses it, then it means Karl already knows.

"I think…" He says, getting up from the side of the table, heavy boots on the ground beneath you. "you have been very naughty…" With each punch of the words that fall from his mouth, his hands graze up your back like you've always wished for. "thinkin' about me, and my hands." You breathe in quickly. If it's due to his touch or his words, you'll never know.

"I bet you've thought up a bunch of dirty things." He whispers into your ear. His voice was rough and scratchy. "I bet you would love it if I just wrapped my hand around your throat and kept you right on the edge all night long." You moan as you feel his hand reach the base of the back of your neck. "Let me just sink my fat cock into your tight pussy, hmm, squeeze your throat so you stars." You whimper as you clench your thighs tightly, willing the ache to go away.

Then just like that, Karl is gone, walking back over to his side of the table. You're left like a puppy following its owner. Shock is written all over your face. "Oh, what do you want more buttercup." He mutters as he walks off and towards the direction of the bedroom.

You follow like a lovesick puppy would.

Completed on: 08/20/23

Posted on: 10/28/23

Kinktober 23- @lanad3lreyscokewhor3 @homelanderscumdump @hummusxx@chvnsdimple @vvitzvafflezvv @lokisivy @claud-blood0703 @iliketoreads-stuff @all-that-glitters-is-treasure@clearscissorsbonkgiant-blog @lxonix--ac @piecesofx @mortallyswimmingpainter @playwithfire99 @fucak @everythingneytiri @lovetheos @xxxxxoseungxoooo @durazopato @hotpead42069 @oddseabiscuit @capoda @witching-hour @viviwows @lover103 @alexlovesfiction @katiecat10 @electricfans @jianasmind @max-505 @powerbun21o @the-horny-simp @missy420-0 @jaq-dav @arescosplays

Resident Evil Master List // House Heisenberg Master List // Kinktober '23

[swirlymark]

Yknow it’s beginning to be a problem when you start to watch past RE8 VA vods ANYWAYS some notes I’ve collected so far + doodles

[heisenbergs-magnetic-dick]

Karl Heisenberg who doesn’t know how to face his feelings and who is unfamiliar with domestic affection so instead of outright telling/showing you how he feels he brings random things to you as an offering, sort of like a cat.

“Heisenberg, what is this?” you ask, staring at what appears to be a roughly shaped swan, made entirely out of metal. to be fair, it looks more like a mutation of the bird but you don’t want to offend him.

“…” he gives you a dead stare and says absolutely nothing and just looks at you, waiting for you to pick it up and take it. once you do he just leaves the room and doesn’t bring it up ever again.

this is different than when he’s showing off his other creations to you because when he’s doing that he’s loudly parading around his factory as he gloats about his genius. but when he’s showing you something specifically made for you he’s dead fucking silent.

[zakkusufae]

Neil during his Baulders Gate III Streams in a nutshell

Neil: Astarion is so much more than a pretty face. He's such a well-rounded character with so many layers, and he's just trying to survive and escape absue. In this essay, I will.....

Also, Neil: He'll look so good in this outfit I stole off a corspe.

[they-call-me-youngermoney]

heisenbilly deluxe

huge shoutout to @ohlookapan for the idea!

---

donna as evanescence: [here] lady d and moreau coming soon!

[zer0pm]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s yours?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re in deep trouble…

[danosrosegarden]

batshit crazy antagonist lovers after getting kidnapped for the 43rd fic in a row

[lichenes]

Heisenberg teasing an easily flustered reader? I'd bet he'd love that >:]

I haven't written for quite a while so I'm hoping to not disappoint anon ;P Your honour I love that man. Kiss me on the mouth you bastard.

CW: established relationship, mentions of sex (kiiiinda), kissing, hickey making, hopefully not too ooc. (i've lost the ability to write i fear ;_;)

wc: 442

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“You look so… so good like this…” He said putting his hands on your hips and squeezing, making you jump a little. He placed his chin on your shoulder, inhaling your scent. You could swear that the mirror was fogging up from the atmosphere in the room. 

Obviously, stumbling upon a dress in the wasteland that was The Village was almost impossible. If it weren't for Alcina's good will, your clothes might've forever stayed the scraps that became of them during your last… ‘encounter’ with Karl. 

You put on one of his coats and headed towards Dimitrescu Castle, hoping Alcina wouldn't send you away with nothing. “Lady Dimitrescu isn’t available right now.” Said one of the maids, one of the still alive ones. “She ordered me to pass this along to you.” You were handed a brown paper wrapped stack of what you assumed to be pieces of clothing you requested. 

“Where were you?” Barked Heisenberg, not turning away from his work desk. “Was just getting something from the Dimistrescus.” You walked to the mirror hearing Karl mumble something about the ‘supersized bitch’. Unwrapping the paper and looking through your treasures, you noticed the delicate and elaborate patterns sewn into the dresses. You removed his coat and let it fall to the floor. 

His attention was caught. He turned in his chair, smoking his cigar and slightly lowering his glasses. “What do we have here?” Your face got hot. “Just browsing new outfits. Duke doesn’t have anything worth my time so I decided to ask Alcina…” You put on the first dress. 

It had an intricate pattern of gold, lace and off-whites. “I asked for sundresses…” You mumbled. They all resembled ball gowns, more than anything. “I'll need to return this…” “No.” He said. That's how you ended up in this position. His mouth on your neck, his hands resting on your hips. 

“My beautiful girl…” He said, never breaking contact with your skin. “Buttercup, look at me.” He was a stern man to whom you'd never object, so you obliged. “Good… lord, you are stunning…” Karl knew that you were easily flustered and he took full advantage of that. “Bet this dress’ll look even better on. The. Floor.” He stressed. 

You pulled away from Heisenberg. “Karl, I swear to god.” He laughed. You covered your face with your hands as he strode quickly towards you and grabbed your chin. “You'd also look good down, on the floor. I almost want to… tear this dress off of you…” He almost whispered. 

To be fair, you didn't know what you expected. It's safe to say - what became of your dress - wasn't wearable anymore.

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masterlist

[therabbitthatpostthings]

Comfort During A Rough Patch {Multi Fandom} I'm less upset now so I won't post all the angst I wrote lol....for now. Tags:

⇏ Nanami Kento ⇏

You didn’t move when he dropped the blanket on you. You didn’t even care the view of your phone screen was blocked. Not like you were actually paying attention to it, just scrolling to not think anymore. The lights clicked off, the tv on and the curtains slightly open to take in the city lights. Kento sat and pulled your legs over his lap. He slowly lifted the blanket off your head and wrapped it around you both. After a couple moments of silence, the familiar jingle of your comfort show’s theme started. Gently, you snuggled in closer and laid your hair against his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“It’s all right love.”

♡ Giyuu Tomioka ♡

Giyuu sat beside you on the porch as you fiddled with your bandages. He placed a cup of tea next to you. After a long beat of silence he took off his haori and draped it over you. "You don't have to tell me but, nothing that happened was your fault. You did what you could."

"I could of done better... I should have done better."

"You saved the people you could, they are alive because of you."

Tears welled up, you tuned your head from him, "Why couldn't I have saved everyone..."

He pulled you in closer as you cried into his shoulder, "I tried so hard!"

"I know."

𓌏 Heisenberg 𓌏

"What the hell are you doing?" Lord Heisenberg's voice boomed from behind you. His steps thundered on the shoddily put-together floor. He slammed his fist on the table. "You were supposed to go sorting through the scrap today."

"I did it yesterday." You replied plainly.

"Well I've been calling you for an hour."

"The bell."

"What?"

"The bell." You pointed to a small gold bell in the corner of the room. It was attached to a chain that went into the ceiling- the bell was connected to little chains all around the factory. Lord Heisenberg knew he could have pulled the chain but it wasn't something he has had to do in months. You had become less of servant and more of a helper/roommate. You seemed out of it the last few days, he didn't think you were sleeping at all.

Heisenberg let out a deep and annoyed sigh before slinging you over his shoulder. You yelped, "L-Lord Heisenberg!"

"Shut up." He ignored your yelling as he carried you up to the makeshift bedroom on the safer side of the factory. He tossed you on the bed and through a blanket your way. "I can't have you cutting off an arm or something cause you aren't paying attention."

"Lord Heisenberg, I'm fin-"

"You are gonna stay in this bed and sleep. When you wake up, we're gonna eat and you are gonna fucking calm down. Got it?"

There was no use arguing with him. He'd probably lock the door anyway. Though, the aching did subside for a moment and you felt warm knowing that Lord Heisenberg cared in his own way.

"Thank you my lord."

[thewritersaddictions]

Request- (RE8) Karl Heisenberg: Needy Little Girl

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x Fem!Reader

Pov: Reader

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

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

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

WC: 1.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Completed on: 03/29/24

Posted on: 04/05/24

HH Tags-

[loveaetingkids]

As much as I love reading fics with Karl Heisenberg bonding with Rose I would also like to see more of them acknowledging how Heisenbergs background is tied to his perception of kids.Because in the game,he was raised as a science project by Mother Miranda,only seeing her “children” as guinea pigs.Similarly, Alcina Dimitrescu took under her wing Bela, Daniela and Cassandra after these three previously human women were subjected to experimentations,making them forget their past,serving as a sort of empty vessels Lady Dimitrescu can project all of her ideas and beliefs onto. Living with a twisted perception that children are made with a certain goal in mind for them to achieve can actually shed light as to why Heisenberg proposed to Ethan (the wording was intentional) to weaponize Rose without thinking that this suggestion would actually upset Winters.While he claims that he’s not like his siblings and is against Miranda,he fails to acknowledge that he did internalize some of her views; therefore it kinda makes sense as to why he didn’t foresee Ethan’s refusal,as he thought that all parents/guardians raise their children similarly to Miranda.So that’s why a story partly or fully centered around Karl seeing Ethan loving his daughter not for her mold potential but for who she is might be so alien to Karl,and him getting to understand that treating children as fellow human beings is normal would be so interesting to read.

[the-bar-sinister]

There was a certain level of pain that Karl Heisenberg was in every day of his life. It was his constant companion. As far as he knew, it was a simple fact of his being alive. It was a simple fact of what had been done to his body.

The pain waxed and waned but it never fully departed. There were herbs from Donna that helped but they dulled his mind and sent him to the land of the half dead.

Despite everything, Karl wanted to live. He wanted to live even though it hurt, even though it was hard.

He wanted to live, and he wanted to be in charge of his own life. And so he fought through the pain. He lived with the pain. He savored it. He trusted it.

Being in pain meant that he was still fighting. 

Karl Heisenberg dreamed of a body that didn't ache, and dreamed of a life where he wasn't a slave and a prisoner. But he would endure both. 

He would endure them as long as he had to. He would drink the joy in there was to be had from them, and he would come out the other side.

-

AO3 link

[geekyarmorel]

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

Alcina:

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

Instantly puts you in bed.

Refuses to let you get up.

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

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

Offers to read to you.

Sits by the bed and reads to you.

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

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

You sleepily ask her "Hold me?"

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

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

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

Absolutely refuses to part with you the remainder of your sickness

Donna:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Donna's face nearly combusts.

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

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

You stir just a little and she calms you down.

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

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

Melts when you curl against her and fall back asleep.

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

Heisenberg:

It took him a little bit to realize you were sick

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Cuddle me, please?"

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

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

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

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

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

Mother Miranda:

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

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

She was terrified of losing you as well.

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

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

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

Getting in bed you sniffled, trying not to cry.

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

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

She also procured some medicine for you to take.

When entering your room she noticed you had been crying.

"What's wrong?"

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

Miranda sets down the bowl on your nightstand.

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

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

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

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

Cue you falling asleep in a cocoon of soft feathers.

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

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

[thaimolpiyas]

mithanberg doodles from class

[ember-owlet]

If it’s not any trouble, could I please pretty request headcanons or a lil drabble of regressor Heisenberg and Ethan with a mama caregiver (in a poly relationship setting)? They’re my liddol guys and I wish to spoil them rotten 🥺

a/n : its no trouble at all sweetheart!! heisenberg and ethan need a supportive mama in their lives desperately!! thank you for waiting,, i hope i can do your little guys justice with these headcanons ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

art credit : @/bullfrogsan 🧵

dynamic: mama! cg! reader x regressor! karl heisenberg x regressor! ethan winters

first of all, to me neither of them have had positive past experiences with their biological mothers. so the boys having a positive mother-figure in their life would be so incredibly healing, outside of regression or not.

they!!! are!! such!!! mama's boys!!!

in your dynamic if only one of the boys were to regress and be doted on by the other two they would be, for the most part, well behaved and good mannered.

however, karl and ethana when regressing together would be like two feral cats (/lh) you'd never know whether they'd be in a cuddly mood with one another or immediately fighting over who gets to play with which toy first.

there are a few times where they'd need their mama's firm intervention, mostly if it were to turn into a physical altercation.

you'd have to bring the two together to apologize, and they would begrudgingly turn to the side and huff, with a mental agreement they're "only doing it for your happiness".

in reality they do care for one another, very deeply in fact. there is no better kiddo in the world that could handle karl's rather rough playtime than ethan and no one else could make ethan feel safer than being protected by karl and his mama.

the main thing that the two of them can agree on is just how much they adore their mama, planning the best way to surprise you with handmade drawings or gifts, followed by both of them running into your arms.

as time goes on i could absolutely see the dynamic of karl being the adventerous daredevil while ethan would either disagree and inform his mama of his behavior or follow silently behind to be sure that he doesn't get himself hurt.

it would be a common misunderstanding with those who'd meet your dynamic that karl is the "punk" while ethan is the harmless angel, but you would know your little guy enough to understand just because ethan is quieter doesn't mean he doesn't have his own way of finding trouble. (think bluey and bingo from the mini bluey episode).

ethan could be rather stubborn if given the chance, as regressing would enhance his need to make his own decisions after a lifetime of others speaking for/over him.

karl on the other hand would want to encourage ethan's rebellious tendencies, telling him that sometimes its alright to push all of his feelings out.

their mama would be able to balance the dynamic as the voice of reason, handing both of them a healthy outlet and tools for their bigger feelings.

i love the idea that after finding a healthier outlet from his mama and ethan, heisenberg is able to find moments of calm, at first taking some time after a tantrum to breathe to being at the cusp of cursing someone out and instead breathing and thinking of what's the root of his feelings.

and in fact you do spoil your little guys rotten, their rooms would be filled to the brim with their choice of toys, stuffies, gear, and books to keep them entertained for hours. and, even if karl has a harder time verbalizing it, they would much rather prefer the company of their mama together.

there's no greater feeling to their lighter and vulnerable headspace than being wrapped up in your arms for a story time. to feel the humming of your chest against their ear or the gentle strokes of your fingers through their hair while they sleep would be a feeling they wouldn't trade for the world.

[danosrosegarden]

me when i lose all my resident evil followers after writing karl heisenberg as a sub