#karl x female reader

[chayacat]

Remember, My Love. (26) Epilogue.

Fandom: Resident Evil 8 Village

Lycan Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, language and Smut

WARNING: This chapter is the epilogue. Almost all content of this ultimate chapter will be dialogue because this is a video Chris receives. There will therefore be no action between the characters or even direct verbal exchange between them. I hope you enjoyed this fiction to its end and don't worry, all chapters are available in the Re8 master list! Happy reading!

***

“Hey Captain, we received this for you.”

Chris turned his head in the direction of the voice, only to see Tundra with a package in her hand. When he took the package and looked at the provenance, he couldn't help but smile. It had been a year since his mission in this village in Romania. And he hadn't forgotten what had happened, or the encounters he had. Even less the promises he made before leaving.  

For a year, Chris had somehow helped the village to rebuild itself and at the same time brought a little modernity. Aria for her part had promised to give him news. And that's the reason for this package in Redfield's hands. The funny thing about these videos was that contrary to appearances, Aria seemed much more comfortable than Karl for this kind of thing. Chris opened the package, took the small usb key inside and inserted it on his computer, before opening the most recent file, dating from 3 days ago.

“It's okay, does it record?” said Karl on the camera.

“Of course it records, this is not the first time I handle this computer, in one year I have had plenty of time to learn.” responds Aria, before sitting next to him.  

“Yeah yeah, I know. So... Hi Redfield. It's been a long time...”

“Hi Chris! Sorry that you haven't heard from us all this time. The reconstruction of the village... well, we say that Rome was not built in a day so... It was a bit complicated. But as you can see when you’ll see this... We're fine.”

“The village is resuming a normal life... And let's say that the little touch of modernity that you wanted to bring... is starting to take hold well among everyone.”

“Leonardo, Elena's father rejected all these technologies but... Since he got into it, especially with television... we can say that he has radically changed sides. Especially with football matches. Concerning... You know what, he's fine too. It's going to sound strange but... The place where it is, is covered with flowers and vegetation... Go find out how it happened. But... He feels pretty good. No one knows about it. Not even the villagers.”

“I still think it's a mistake not to tell them about it but hey...”

“Karl we already talk about it...we have to make sure that the mutamycete is safe. Imagine if the villagers know about it? They could kill it just by fear!” replied Aria.  

“I know I know. But we won't be able to keep it secret forever...Well, that’s way of speaking.”

“Yeah, that’s a way... But in the meantime, it's the best thing to do. I don't think the villagers are ready for that. Don't forget how long it took them to... adapt to the pack.”  

“It is true that cohabitation has not been... simple.”

“When we wanted to use the strength of lycans to help rebuild the village... The inhabitants were not very... Reassured. So, we had to show them that Karl in addition to his magnetic powers... was one too and that he could watch them. Even Urias got into it, I wish you had seen it with your own eyes!”

“It's true that it was funny to see.”

“Karl!”

“Haha sorry buttercup.”

“In any case as far as the village is concerned, everything is fine! Since... Moreau is no longer there, it is Donna who serves as our doctor! Hoping that a doctor from another town or village will come to replace her. She is very talented, but Angie scares people a little. And... Karl and I are going to... Maybe we'll travel a little bit in a while.”

“Hey hey sweetly my love...”

“Karl, you promise me!”  

“And I'll keep my promise. But we still have some details to be solved before.”

“I know...but I can wait to see all those beautiful things around the world! And maybe we’ll meet during our travels!” said Aria with a great smile before hearing someone crying. “Oh, I think she woke up... I'll look for her.”

“Sure Buttercup.”

Aria stood up before stepping out of the screen to head into another room. Karl couldn't help but smile before looking at the camera again and getting more serious.  

“I... I wanted to thank you again for what you did a year ago, Redfield. If you hadn't decided to come to this village to take care of Miranda... We would not be where we are today. And I think we'd all be dead. But thanks to you, everything is different. And it's better this way. It always hurts my ass to tell you that by the way. Aria's powers have greatly improved. She masters them almost perfectly. Even if she still has a little trouble controlling everything, she no longer freezes everything she touches and that's the most important thing. As soon as there is movement, I will warn you by letter as usual.” Said Karl taking a break.  

“I don't know where you are right now but... I suspect you must be pushing back the failed Umbrella experiment. And to say that it is with Miranda that everything starts. If she had never met this guy... this Spencer... Then nothing you explained to me would exist.  I have done the research you asked me for in your last letter. They are in the package you received. Make good use of it, because I wouldn't do it twice.” he replied.  

“heyyyy look who’s there~” said Aria, reappearing on the screen with a baby on her arms.

“Hey my little flower, that was a very long nap! Everything fine?”

“I had to change her, and she was very hungry. She drank her nursing bottle in no time!  And she arrives just in time to say hello to Uncle Chris! Isn't that true, my little heart?”

Chris couldn't help but smile when he saw Karl and Aria happy with their little girl. She had her father's eyes, but all her mother's beauty. The little girl was playing with Karl's beard which made him laugh.

“We.... We did the tests you asked us for... and they were sent to the BSAA. The results say she is completely normal... For now.” said Aria.

“Aria...” Said Karl.

“I Know, I know...but This can develop over time... you never know Karl. One thing is certain, she is not a lycan.”

“That's what also reassures me... I don't want to impose on her this... Curse.”

“A curse that saved me a lot of times... Maybe one day we can introduce her to you! But for now... Iris is still too small to make a big trip.”

“I think she would hold... if we plan everything necessary to feed her, change her and everything else.”

“We’ll see. In the meantime, we will take care of her as the most precious of our treasures.” replied Aria, kissing Iris’ head.

“Good... I don't think we have much more to say... Everything is fine in the village. Everything is fine with the three of us. And mutamycete is well protected. We pretty much went around.” said Karl.

“We hope all this will get to you soon, Chris. And again... Thank you. Thanks for everything. See you around!”

All three said goodbye to Chris, Aria gently holding her baby's hand to wave it. Then the video stopped with three smiling faces and Chris closed his computer. He looked at the package and noticed the folder that Karl had added inside. Information that will always be useful, Chris was convinced. Until now, Karl had always given them good information about what was happening in Europe. A simple and effective way to be even more present everywhere. He stood up, opened the door and took one last look, smiled before leaving the room for good. Oh yes, they will see each other again... He was sure of it.  

And deep down... He couldn't wait.

***

(There you go. This is the end of this second fiction! Shorter than the first, but written with as much pleasure and love! I will be able to rest a little before starting the 3rd one which will be on Road 96! the famous! Thank you to everyone who has read to the end and I wish you all a wonderful Halloween! Have a great week everyone! See ya!)  

#Chris Redfield #Re8 #re8 fanfiction #re8 village #karl x female reader #Karl Heisenberg #Lycan Karl Heisenberg

[multific]

A Rare Flower in a Factory

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Summary: Everyone has their own hidden little secrets, it just happens to be that Heisenberg's secret is the rarest and most beautiful flower.

Everyone has their secrets. Even the four Lords.

But no one could have guessed Heisenberg's.

Down deep in the dark, the deepest and most hidden place in his entire factory, just about where the rust ended, there was a living space.

A small, yet comfortable little place that the Lord himself built with his two hands.

Heisenberg was proud, he provided a home.

And in that home lived his beautiful little flower, his bride.

Someone no one would expect to find in such a place.

Yet, there you were, hidden away from Miranda and the other Lords.

Heisenberg's beautiful flower.

You were the reason he wanted to fight to be free. You were the reason he wanted to leave this Godforsaken place and start a new life. 

But no matter what he did, he failed.

He always moved back to his chambers, feeling like a failure. But each time, when he saw you, he felt at ease. As if all his worries melted away.

And you loved him so much.

"Karl?" you called out as he got out of the bath. "Are you hungry?"

"Yes." came his reply and soon he joined you in the kitchen. His arms moved around you as his mouth moved to your neck.

"Not like that..." you giggled as he pulled you closer.

"I'm always hungry for you, Doll. But I do need some food before I have my dessert." you smiled at him as you both finally moved to the table so you could eat.

---

You woke up to the feeling of cold on your feet.

You were naked under the blanket, with an equally naked Karl attached to your back.

It got rather cold in the factory during winter.

But you woke up with the need of pee and your throat felt dry.

You wiggled out of Karl's hold.

You put a long shirt on, which reached to your knees before leaving the room and headed to the bathroom then the kitchen.

On your way to the kitchen, you noticed the door to your home open, you found it weird but decided to just close the door and get your glass and go back to bed.

You poured a glass of water for yourself when you thought you heard a noise.

The factory did make a lot of noise so you didn't think much of it.

However, the second time, you couldn't ignore the footstep you heard, you knew it wasn't Karl, you could hear him snoring.

And just as you rounded a corner, there it was.

One of Karl's many creations. 

It had human legs but it was mostly a machine with huge machetes for arms.

You wanted to run but the thing was faster, it slashed and as you put up your hand to protect yourself, it cut into your palm.

"KARL!" you managed to yell, hoping he would come and save you. 

And again, the monster got ready and this time it slashed your forearm. You made another sound of pain and the machine-human fell to its knees, you heard the metal in his body squeeze.

You looked to your right and noticed Karl.

He was looking at your bloody hand. He made a gesture with his hand and the monster flew backwards, right out the metal door.

He rushed you into the bathroom, taking out a first aid kit and he started to work on your arm.

"This is all my fault."

"It is not, Karl."

"I didn't check if the door was closed."

"It's not your fault." you insisted, but he kept on avoiding your eyes. "Karl." you called out but he didn't listen. He bandaged up your arm and took you back to your bed.

"I'll clean up." he said and you knew he needed his own space and time. So, you allowed him to have it.

By the time he arrived back, you were fast asleep.

---

The next morning, you woke up alone.

You looked for Karl, but he seemed to have gone missing.

You knew better than to roam the factory, so you stayed put, reading your romance books and cooking lunch and dinner.

You also didn't forget to take care of your wound, you cleaned and re-wrapped it.

Karl arrived back later than usual, you waited in the living room for him.

He came into the room, his eyes filled with pain.

"I'm so sorry."

"It is not your fault. The thing wandered where it shouldn't have."

"Exactly, so, I prepared a new place for you, it is still rough around the edges but..."

"Will I get a window?"

"Yes, and a balcony. I'm done hiding you down here, it is far too dangerous."

"But what if Miranda finds out?"

"I bet my ass, she already knows." Karl made his way over to where you were sitting on the couch and knelt down, holding your hand in his. "I always fared something would happen down here with you, you will be a lot safer upstairs." he said and you nodded, you leaned over and placed a kiss on his lips.

"Okay, when will I move?"

"Hopefully tomorrow. I have them working on the rooms for you, then you can add your touch to it." you smiled at him.

"Thank you, but you got to stop blaming yourself, Karl."

"How can I ever make it up to you?" his fingers gently ran along the edge of your badage.

"I have a couple ideas. You can start with your fingers, then your mouth and last-"

"You are naughty." he smirked.

"Just the way you like it." you put your hand on the back of his neck and pulled him up to kiss you.

Karl was definitely thankful for you and your forgiveness. He was so mad with himself all day, he killed every single one of his machines in revenge.

He shouldn't have, but the thought of losing you became overbearing. It was all too much for him.

And he will make sure that no one ever will get to you. Not Miranda and not the entire world, for you were his hidden flower in a garden of madness and pain.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS 

#x reader #x female reader #karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenburg fanart #karl haisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #karl heisenberg imagines #resident evil imagine #resident evil imagines #resident evil #resident evil village #video games

[anundyingfidelity]

BLOOD, SWEAT & TEARS — Billy Butcher, Soldier Boy

Summary: A normal night where Butcher and his new pal, Soldier Boy, fuck just their stress out with a new toy, you.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x female reader x Soldier Boy

Word count: 1.5k.

Warnings: porn without plot, dom!butcher, dom!ben, one thought of dub-con but not really, double penetration, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, unsafe sex (creampie and switching holes basically don't do it, this is just porn), squirting, dirty talk, blowjobs, facial, degradation (usage of whore, slut, etc.), cumplay, some dacryphilia, choking, hair pulling, blood, mentions of violence, Ben and Butcher being kinda jerks, normal misogyny coming from SB, some ego competition, hints to aftercare.

Notes: You already know english is not my main language, not betad and barely revised, lol sorry for the mistakes in here. The amount of horniness I have for these two I swear is not fucking normal. Normally I'd apologize for writing this, but I'm ovulating.

the boys/jackles tags: @k-slla

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

A pair of rough hands held your legs open. Your empty pussy was throbing as Butcher knelt between your thighs rubbing the tip of his cock against your cunt.

You gasped, the man behind you spreading you further for his new team mate to get better access while he fucked your ass senseless. His cock reaching all the right spots. You moaned loudly, almost screaming when Butcher finally pushed inside you. Soldier Boy never seemed to cease his insane thrusts from behind.

"Luv, you're so fucking tight," Butcher grinned, your walls engulfing him perfectly.

They both soon set up a rhythm, one pushing in while the other almost slide out of your hole. Each stroke of their massive cocks inside you exploded something you never felt before. It was a new kind of spark eliciting from the deepest places, and you wanted to come undone there, over and over, forever, between their strong bodies.

"Oh, fuck! Yes right there, god!" you growled, screamed, and cried out incoherences as the two men continued fucking you to bliss.

A layer of sweat covered your skin and you rolled your eyes back, the familiar knot on your belly building up yet again. You didn't have an idea of how much time had passed since you arrived back to the dirty motel. All three of you arrived covered in blood, dirt and the weight of murder, and you still let them take you and you welcomed them the same way. You let them have fun with you however they pleased.

The last thing you remembered from that night was coming back from a mission. Your aching body begging for a shower and good sleep, but Butcher and the new supe found other ways to take their own stress out. You doubted at first. Of course you didn't know it could feel this good. They left bite marks all over your neck, nipped your tits, spanked your thighs open for their mouths to devour you while the other fucked your throat until tears streamed down your cheeks.

They continued bruising and marking your skin. Like a canvas, they left their prints, covering your flesh with different colors all over and used your mouth and pussy as they fucking wanted, granting access to the other, spreading your legs, manhandling you all over the disgusting, shitty room. Then Soldier Boy had the idea of using your ass, just for him, and at first, you were fucking scared. It was all too much. But once he had you ready and stretched enough with his fingers, you quickly fell for his rough touch and his dick, which was as huge as his ego. He was fucking addictive. Both were, in fact, fucking you amazingly hard.

One of Ben's hand wrapped around your neck, climax reaching its peak as Butcher rubbed your clit with his thumb. Your walls clenched around both of them and the vulgar sound of your pussy filled the place along with their skin hitting yours.

"Little slut, gonna cum for us?" Ben said, voice full of lust, pressing your back against his bare chest. You clenched again, his dark chuckle enhanced heaven down your cunt.

Wetness increased between your legs, and you moaned. Louder than ever. The whole place might already know what was happening in the room, but neither Ben or Billy made you shut up. In fact, they wanted you to scream your lungs out.

"Oh, she's definitely gonna cum," Butcher followed, a smirk on his lips. "C'mon sweetheart, don't be shy. Give us one more."

"I-I feel like- fuck!" with a loud cry you squirted all over them, their dicks sliding out of your holes. Shit, that was the harderst you came for the night.

Immediately you tried to close your shaky legs, but Butcher's hands held you in place, pussy clenching around nothing as your fluids coated their hard lenghts and thighs.

"Fucking hell. I'm gonna break you, sugar," Ben hissed, taking your legs and fixing your position on top of him, sliding you down his dick, but this time he claimed your pussy, pistoning in and out of you without any mercy. Even if your body still trembled and you were so fucking overstimulated. You moaned.

Butcher tskd as he watched you, tears streaming down your face and lost in pleassure. "That was mine, pal."

"Yeah, I don't give a fuck- Jesus, she's fucking tight!" Ben hoarsed.

He didn't care about Butcher, he just wanted to fuck you until you passed out and his name was the only thing on your mind.

You whimpered softly. "Please, please," you were getting there again, under the brunette man's dark eyes as the soldier fucked you insane.

But before you reached that sweet peak again, Ben pulled out of you. His strenght forced you to bend over the matress on your hands and knees, Butcher positioned himself right in front of your face. It was so fast and they moved quickly, like a dance already choreographed between them to take advantage of all you got to give.

"Open wide, baby" Butcher ordered. You complied happily, letting his cock touch the back of your throat smoothly.

Ben's rough hands gripped your hips, down your ass, giving a spank on one of your cheeks, making you jump slightly. He grabbed your ass cheeks spreading them to expose your hole, the tip of his cock teased your ass until he slid in a swift motion. You whimpered with your mouth stuffed. He filled you up perfectly and you fucking loved it.

"Such a good cumslut, taking my cock so fucking well," Ben praised, voice husky. He roughly gripped your hair, forcing yourself down more around Butcher's shaft. You gagged, he smirked. "Might just keep you around as my little, personal fuckdoll."

"Fuck- easy there, mate," Butcher warned, as you worked your tongue and lips on his cock as much as you could. "We have another deal, remember?"

Ben smirked cockily at him as you clenched around his cock. You let out a moan muffled by Butcher fucking your mouth. Both their thrusts harder than ever. "Still, I don't give a shit."

Ben's gaze admired you, hands on your hips, as he watched himself shoving into your hole. "You're gonna fucking cum again, you dirty little bitch," he ordered.

"Mmm..." You nodded as best as you could with the twitching cock on your mouth.

Butcher suddenly pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva leaked down your lips to the tip of his cock. He kept your head in place as much as he could and jerked himself off with his other hand. He came with a hard groan all over your pretty face. His white seed painted your cheeks, lips and your tongue sticking out as you shut your eyes.

"Bloody hell, don't you look ravishing," Butcher whispered darkly. His thumb collected his cum, now mixed with your tears and a small stain of dry blood on your face. He dragged it to your lips so you could taste it. Your plump lips closed around his finger with a moan.

"Insatiable slut, just how I like them," Ben hissed, pulling out of your asshole, making you whimper. "Now, I'm gonna cum inside this pretty little pussy."

He rubbed the tip of his dick on your slit and entered slowly. You felt every inch stretching you out and he slammed into you brutally, he was so fucking close. You could feel it. It surprised you how much they actually endured, their stamina was endless and you lost count of how many times they made you cum already. And yet, you felt that precious sensation anew, soft walls clenching repeatedly around him.

"C'mon whore," Ben gripped on your hair, pulling your back against his muscular chest, taking both your wrists with his other hand. "Cum around my cock."

Your cunt pulsed, he grunted. And you came, again, with shaky legs, shaky breath and the sight of a naked Butcher, who already had taken a seat on the couch in front of the bed. Your orgasm triggered Ben's, and he filled you up completely. You cried out when his fingers found your clit, the grip on your hair long gone now. He continued fucking his cum inside you, balls deep, until he started to soften inside you. His thrusts slowed down little by little.

Ben finally pulled out, letting go of your wrists and you collapsed on your hands and knees on the mattress. He spread out your pussy with his fingers and admired his white cum dripping out of you.

"Well, that was a fucking ride," he smiled. His middle finger wiped his seed and forced it back inside your pulsing cunt. "Fuck, where do you find these kind of women?"

Butcher shrugged. "I have my contacts."

"I'm still here, y'know," you breathed out, rolling on your back.

Ben hovered over your tired figure. Messy hair, cheeks stained with Butcher's cum, teary eyes, and some dry blood spots decorated your face. They did break you and put you back into pieces. He was damn proud of that. He leaned down and sucked into the skin of your neck. You moaned, your fingers tangled on his scalp as his lips carressed your neck, his beard burning on your soft skin.

"Ben, I'm tired," you said, and he stopped his kisses. He shared a suspicious look with Butcher and then locked his lustful green eyes with yours.

The supe winked at you. "Later, doll."

You rolled your eyes and heard Butcher standing up.

"Gonna prepare you a bath, luv," he said as he disappeared inside the bathroom. "Have to take good care of ya."

#soldier boy smut #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy imagines #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfiction #billy butcher smut #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x female reader #billy butcher imagines #billy butcher x you #billy butcher imagine #soldier boy/ben #the boys tv #the boys amazon #the boys fanfiction #soldier boy x reader x billy butcher #jensen ackles #karl urban

[geminiwritten]

undercover ; billy butcher

fandom: the boys

pairing: billy x reader

summary: you have to go undercover as butcher’s wife to vought’s annual supe celebration - prompt (that i don’t remember where i saw it, i’m sorry!): “I bet you one hundred dollars that you’re hard right now.” *he stands up and drops $100 on the table*

notes: i wrote this in one day and you can tell!!! it’s so rushed, i’m so sorry, but also i’m just hot for this man and refuse to stop??? let me know what you think!

warnings: swearing, very small alcohol consumption, very light smut, and a bit of harassment from an unwelcome dude

word count: 6496

“You have a thing for Butcher?” Hughie gasps, the apartment door swinging open as he steps inside.

Annie’s eyes grow wide, her hand covering her mouth to try and hide her cheeky smile. You scowl at her before turning to Hughie, his face a comical mixture of disgust and amusement.

“What have I said about eavesdropping on movie night, Hubert?” you demand, calling him by the stupid nickname you know he hates.

He rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I texted Annie to say I was on my way home. It’s not my fault you’re practically shouting about the fact that you want to fu-”

“Hughie,” Annie giggles, “be careful.”

“Hey,” he says, turning to her, “I’m just repeating what I heard.”

You hold your face in your hands and groan, sinking back into the soft couch cushions and praying that they might open up and swallow you into a different dimension.

“I’m sorry,” Annie sighs, “I honestly just lost track of time.”

Hughie drops his keys and wallet on the kitchen bench alongside two plastic bags that wreak of cheap Chinese food. Your stomach grumbles at the smell, and you reluctantly pull yourself off the couch before dragging your feet toward the kitchen.

“So,” Hughie says with a grin, “how long has this been going on then?”

“Nothing is going on,” you state, “and it’s certainly none of your business.”

“Oh, come on, it’s not like I’m going to tell anyone,” he begins helping you unpack the bags of food, “besides, I had a sneaking suspicion. You do kind of look at him like-”

You pull a butterknife out of the draw and point it at him, “Like what?”

He freezes, his hands flying up on either side of his head in surrender.

Annie laughs again, “Okay, you two, cut it out.”

You put the knife down and retrieve three full sets of cutlery before setting a stack of bowls beside the containers of food. Hughie serves himself first before Annie fills her own bowl and you last, already shovelling mouthfuls of noodles into your mouth as you move back toward the couch.

“You know,” Hughie says between mouthfuls, “if you wanted to talk about it, I might be able to help.”

You scoff, “Yeah? How?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, talk to him.”

“And say what?” you drop your fork into your bowl, mocking Hughie’s voice as you say, “Hey Butcher, do you think Y/N is hot, because I know she dreams about fucking you.”

He scowls at you, “I can be subtle.”

Annie giggles, hiding her face behind her bowl as Hughie casts his glare toward her.

“I appreciate your concern, Hughie,” you say, “but I think I’ll just stick to fantasising about him in the shower.”

His expression morphs into disgust as he begins choking on his mouthful of food, his face turning bright red. Annie’s laughter fills the room, and you join her while Hughie struggles to compose himself.

To your surprise, and relief, Hughie agrees to keep your little secret to himself. He doesn’t even make a stupid face the next day when the three of you arrive at the boys’ current hideout, finding MM, Frenchie, Kimiko, and the man himself huddled around the dining room table.

“Righ’ on time,” Butcher says with a grin, “let’s get to it, then.”

You knew he was excited about this next mission, if you could call it that. Everyone was, in fact, because thanks to Annie’s excellent intel, you were all attending Vought’s annual ball. A night of celebration to thank the mighty Supes for keeping the streets safe, or as Butcher liked to call it, Vought’s annual wank-fest.

“Your invitations are all sorted,” Annie says, pulling a small handful of envelopes out of her bag. “Hughie came up with all your aliases, so please stick to them, or you’ll be kicked out in a heartbeat. Security is tough at this thing, and there’ll be no talking yourselves out of a bad situation.”

She looks pointedly at Butcher, but his smirk only widens.

“Frenchie,” Hughie says, “you’re going as a member of the tech team, so you’ll be behind the scenes and keeping an eye on the cameras for anything suspicious.”

Frenchie rubs his hands together excitedly, taking the envelope from Annie and tearing it open.

“Monsieur Felipe Lavigne, senior security technician,” he announces, reading the ID card aloud.

“MM and Kimiko, you’ll be with me,” Hughie goes on, “we’ll be posing as press on behalf of the city council. There’s a huge group of council members and associates, so all we have to do is blend in.”

MM takes two envelopes and passes one to Kimiko.

Hughie turns to you, “I originally had you listed as press too, but then decided it might be smart to double down on Butcher’s alias, give him another level of cover, you know?”

You frown, tilting your head sceptically as he hands you and Butcher an envelope each.

“You’ll be attending as prospective stakeholders, invited by corporate to bask in the glory of Vought in the hopes that you’ll invest in their cause,” Hughie explains. “An affluent couple from upstate New York, recently immigrated from Britain after growing bored of your rich English lifestyle.”

You’re almost positive your brows have reached your hairline as you stare at the envelope in your hands, your trembling fingers struggling to pull the ID badge out.

“Brooklyn Williams,” you read aloud.

Annie shoots Hughie a look, promising that he would be paying for this later, and you realise that he must have made this decision in the past twelve hours without consulting her.

“William Williams,” Butcher says, frowning at Hughie, “really?”

Despite being the target of several unhappy stares, Hughie chuckles.

Frenchie snickers too, “At least you will not forget it, eh?”

“Smart move, Hughie,” MM speaks up, “Butcher is the one most likely to be caught, but with Y/N in tow, he might think twice about putting himself in danger.”

Butcher rolls his eyes, “Do none of you ‘ave any faith in me?”

Hughie, Frenchie, and MM respond in unison, “No.”

The seven of you spend the next two hours going over the details of your aliases and the agenda of the function. It’s going to be a huge event, which meant little risk of actually running into Homelander or anyone who might recognise any of you. Annie won’t be able to help on the night, being one of the spotlight attendees, but that isn’t what’s was making you nervous. You’re going to have to spend a good five hours pretending to be married to Butcher, the one man you desperately want and the one man you were trying very hard not to fall in love with.

After what feels like forever, Frenchie announces that he is going to get dinner and Annie bids you all goodbye to check in at Vought tower. Hughie sets his laptop up at the desk in the corner of the lounge room while MM excuses himself for his nightly facetime call with Janine.

Kimiko turns to you, signing a question about what you were all going to wear on the night.

“Annie helped me organise some things,” you reply, gesturing toward the suitcase by the door. “You should try it on now, and if you don’t like it we can find something else.”

You know Kimiko isn’t a fan of cocktail attire, and you definitely didn’t want her walking into the dragon’s den worrying about the way she looked or if she’d be able to fight should the need arise.

“What ‘bout me, love?” Butcher asks, his signature smirk curling the corner of his lips.

Your cheeks burn under his gaze, “You don’t get a choice, you’ll be wearing a suit.”

He chuckles, “I do love a stubborn woman, must’ve been why I married you.”

Your pulse thrums in your ears, and you fail to think of a sarcastic retort, instead turning away in the hopes that he hasn’t already noticed the bright colour in your cheeks.

Kimiko drops the case on its back with a thud, unzipping it quickly and throwing it open to pull out each of the bagged costumes. There are four suits of various styles with varying accessories, and two dresses. She stands holding the one labelled with her name, dragging the zip right down the middle and revealing the soft black fabric of her dress. It isn’t quite full length, hemmed just below the knee in a pencil skirt style and devoid of any embellishments. A simple black dress with long sleeves, fitted but flexible.

She grins, signing to you that it is perfect and thanking you for not putting her in anything ridiculous.

“We chose two pairs of shoes too,” you say, “in case you don’t want to wear the heels.”

Butcher strides toward the suitcase and picks up the last bag, but you follow him, quickly snatching it out of his hands before he can pull the zip.

“My dress can wait until the night,” you hold it behind your back for good measure, “I’m still not sure about it.”

He quirks one brow, “You’re not wearin’ latex, are ya?”

You roll your eyes before turning on your heel, taking your dress into your room and tucking it into the back of your closet. You fall back on your bed, your chest rising and falling with deep breaths as you try to calm your erratic pulse. It’s just one night, you can hold it together for one night, right?

The next two days pass in a blur of preparations and planning, and before you know it, you’re staring at the dress hanging in your closet with a towel wrapped around your body. Your hair is clean and curled, pulled into a half up do with twisted gold pins creating the illusion of diadem just below the crown of your head. You took a little longer to do your makeup than usual, out of practice in the art of winged eyeliner and false lashes, but in the end, you were proud. Now, the dress.

Your fingers are numb as you pull the zipper down, revealing the red silk material of the gown that Annie convinced you would be a good idea. You blame her for this just as much as Hughie.

“Come on, Y/N,” MM calls through your bedroom door, “we have to go.”

You sigh and throw your towel aside, hurriedly pulling the dress off its hanger. The material is cool against your skin, sliding easily over your curves and fitting your body like a tailor-made glove. You twist awkwardly to secure the zip before turning to the mirror.

The dress is floor length, a few inches of the red silk pooling at your feet, with a long slit reaching scandalously up to your left hip. The straps are about an inch thick, and the neck cowled, showcasing your breasts and the perfect amount cleavage. The silk hugs your torso, and you’re a little startled at just how good you feel in this dress.

Another knock at the door has you rushing to slip into your beige heels, and you check that your underwear are pulled high enough to not be seen in the slit of the dress before opening the door. MM’s jaw drops.

“Holy shit, Y/N.”

You blush, “Thanks.”

Being the gentleman he is, he tears his eyes away from you, offering you his arm with a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

In the lounge room, Kimiko is helping Frenchie with his tie and Hughie is struggling to secure his suspenders to his trousers. Your breath catches when your eyes land on Butcher, dressed in a classic and perfectly fitted black tux. He has even trimmed his beard and styled his hair, still a little dishevelled but holy shit, does the sight of him make your mouth water.

“Damn,” Hughie says when he sees you, “nice dress.”

“Nice suspenders.”

He chuckles, “Are we ready?”

Butcher turns to you, his jaw going slack and his eyes dark. Your chest squeezes, your lungs struggling to draw enough breath as your head spins from the lack of oxygen.

“Ready,” MM says beside you.

“Good,” Hughie tucks his ID badge into his shirt pocket, “I’ve organised two cars, one for Y/N and Butcher, and the other for the rest of us. Once we’re there, we can’t slip up, keep your masks up and don’t even look at anyone you think might recognise you.”

You check your small black clutch for your ID badge and phone.

“Earpieces are too risky tonight,” he continues, “so keep your phones on you, and if one of us is out, we all abort.”

Kimiko checks her own purse and the boys check their pockets before you all shuffle out the door. Hughie, MM, Frenchie, and Kimiko exit the building first, leaving you and Butcher alone in the lobby.

“You ready, sweethear’?” he asks, gazing at you with the same dark eyes as before.

You nod, “As I’ll ever be.”

After a minute, you exit the apartment and climb into the awaiting car. Butcher greets the driver as the car pulls away from the curb, and you take the chance to pull your phone out, typing out a quick message to Hughie.

‘I’m going to kill you.’

Your phone pings before you can put it away, and you quickly turn it to silent before reading his reply.

‘You’re welcome ;)’

A warm hand on your bare legs startles you, the heat sinking into your blood and making it sizzle through your veins.

“You sure you’re alrigh’?” Butcher asks.

“Yeah,” you mutter, “just nervous.”

His thumb rubs soft circles on your thigh, sending shockwaves of desire right to your core.

“Nothin’ to be worried ‘bout, love, I’ve got you.”

Your eyes almost roll back in your head at the sound of his deep voice. He truly does not know how much he does have you, all of you.

“Thanks, Billy,” you whisper, your voice unsteady.

His eyes don’t leave you for the duration of car ride, and your pulse refuses to settle. Anxiety and desire tangle in your stomach, twisting it into loops and winding the knot in your core even tighter than it already was.

Eventually, the car stops, and you both thank the driver before climbing out. You’re not at the main entrance of the building, but there is still a ridiculous number of security guards standing around, and barriers preventing anyone without an invitation from getting within twenty feet of the door. Butcher wraps an arm around your waist to guide you forward, his warmth shielding you from the cold night air.

“By the way,” he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “you look fuckin’ delectable in that dress.”

Another wave of heat washes through your veins, and it takes every ounce of focus for you to not stumble up the walkway. Two security guards step forward as you both flash your ID badges.

“Mr. and Mrs. Williams,” the guard in front of Butcher says, scanning the barcodes on the badges, “welcome to Vought tower.”

The security guard in front of you is younger than the other, his blonde hair slicked back and his mouth etched into a sleazy smirk as his eyes rake up and down your body. He winks as he steps aside, and Butcher notices, his expression twisting into a scowl.

Just as you reach the doors, Butcher’s hand slips from your waist to your ass, squeezing it as he dips down and plants a hot kiss against your neck.

“Fuckin’ perve,” he mutters, before guiding you through the doors and down the corridor.

Your mouth is dry and your knees wobbly, but you move with practice and manage to appear cool and collected as you step into the huge event room. It’s extravagantly decorated with drapes of sheer fabric hanging from the high ceilings and a huge crystal chandelier in the centre. There are dozens of round tables, all set with fine silver-wear and obnoxious centrepieces made of red and white roses.

“Nice to know where all our money will be going if we decide to invest, darlin’,” Butcher says with a cheeky grin.

You giggle, letting him guide you through the clusters of elegantly dressed attendees toward where you assumed your table would be. You don’t remember ever finding out that piece of information, but you assume either Hughie or Annie told Butcher while you were still reeling about having to play ‘happy couple’ with him.

You listen carefully to snippets of conversations as you pass, waiting for anything interesting to catch your attention. Butcher stops at an empty table and pulls out a chair, you smile in thanks before taking a seat, quickly shuffling forward to avoid flashing everyone due to the ridiculously high split in your dress. Butcher notices though, chuckling to himself as he takes the chair beside you.

Before you can speak, he places a hand on your bare leg and squeezes, knocking every thought right out of your head.

You gasp, “I-It’s hot in here, is it hot in here?”

“I think that’s jus’ you, sweethear’,” he replies with a wink.

The room quickly fills with guests, conversations growing louder and drowning out the soft music playing over the speakers. Eventually, a woman takes the stage and the room falls quiet, listening to her lengthy introduction about how grateful Vought were for this night and how wonderful it is to be able to celebrate America’s finest superheroes. You can barely hear her though, your ears filled with the thrum of your pulse as Butcher’s fingers draw patterns on your leg. Your core aches, and you shift in your seat only to feel the dampness between your legs.

When the room erupts into applause, Butcher’s hand freezes, and you turn to see Homelander striding onto the stage, his hair blinding beneath the bright spotlight.

“Hey,” you whisper, placing a hand on top of Butcher’s, “you okay?”

He turns to you and his scowl relaxes, a soft smile pulling on his lips. “Yeah,” he replies, “I’m good.”

You slip your other hand beneath his, praying that he doesn’t notice how sweaty your palms are as you play with his fingers beneath the table. Although you had started in the hopes of calming him, you find your own sense of relaxation in his touch, focusing on the feeling of his skin as Homelander drawls on about Vought and The Seven.

After what feels like an eternity, he finishes his speech and the room cheers again. The woman returns to the microphone to announce the first course of food before music and conversation fills the air, and you turn your attention toward the centre of the table. Butcher grips your hand as you attempt to move it, entwining his fingers with yours and only allowing one of your hands free.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you two at one of these events before,” the woman beside you says.

She’s older but extremely elegant, with a pendant around her neck that you don’t doubt costs more money than you’ll ever get to see in your bank account.

“We’re new in town,” you reply, your voice very slightly lilted, “just moved from London’s east end, actually.”

“How charming,” she places a hand against her pendant, “I’m Lucille, and this is my husband, Jack.”

The podgy man beside her nods, his cheeks and nose bright red as he guzzles from his glass of champagne.

“Pleasure to meet you,” you say, “I’m Brooklyn, and this is my husband, William.”

You cast a glance at Butcher, only to find his eyes already locked on you, sparkling under the soft yellow lights. He has dopey smile on his lips and an emotion you can’t discern floating behind his gaze. Your stomach flips.

“You do make a charming, if you don’t mind my saying,” Lucille says.

You nod, your cheeks tingling with warmth, “Thank you.”

“So,” her husband, Jack, speaks up, his voice gruff, “what brings you here?”

You wait a beat for Butcher to reply, but he only watches you with that same expression.

“To be totally honest with you, I’m not sure,” you reply with a half-hearted laugh, “we have been thinking about investing, but I do wonder why a company of this immensity even needs investors.”

Jack chuckles, “You’ve got that right, seems greedy, doesn’t it?”

Lucille frowns at her husband before turning back to you, “We don’t do it for them, we do it for our grandkids, for their future. In the hopes that they will have a future, a safe one. This world is a nasty place.”

“You’re not wrong about that,” you sigh.

She nods, “That’s why it’s important to protect what you love, and hold on to it.”

Butcher’s hand squeezes yours, making your heart thump violently within your chest. You turn to him and meet his eyes, the fire in your veins blazing with a new intensity and heating every inch of your skin.

“I-If you’ll excuse me,” you stammer, pushing your chair back, “I need to use the bathroom.”

Butcher nods as you stand, and you can hear Lucille strike up new conversation while you weave between the tables toward the exit. Fresh air fills your lungs the moment you reach the foyer, and you pull your phone out of your bag, finding Hughie’s contact name with trembling fingers.

‘If I survive tonight, I WILL kill you.’

You hit send and turn toward the bathroom, almost stumbling when you see the same blonde security guard who had been stationed at the doors.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” he asks, his slimy smirk loading the question with innuendo.

“I’m okay,” you reply, “thank you.”

He steps forward before you can move, “You sure? You look a little flustered. Perhaps a step outside might help? It does get awfully hot in here.”

The first spark of fear rattles up your spine.

“I appreciate that, but I just need to use the restroom,” you say.

His smirk doesn’t falter, “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. I’d be more than happy to escort you. Can’t have a stunning woman such as yourself wandering the streets alone.”

You force a polite smile onto your face as you step around him and hurry down the corridor toward the bathrooms. With one subtle glance over your shoulder, you see him watching, still standing at the end of the hall looking almost predatory.

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, turning sharply into the first stall.

You close the toilet lid and sit on top if it, holding your head in your hands and counting your breaths. After a minute of trying to wrangle your wild thoughts, you decide that Butcher is either a fantastic actor or… in love with you. Your heart aches to agree with the latter, but your brain fights for reason, reminding you that you’re in an incredibly sensitive situation and he is only acting like this to keep up the façade.

You sigh and stand up, panic piercing your chest when you remember the pushy security guard waiting for you in the foyer. You find your phone again, tapping on Butcher’s name and quickly typing out a message.

‘Don’t freak out, I’m totally fine, but I need you to come get me. Foyer.’

You count to thirty before exiting the stall and washing your hands, pleasantly surprised by your reflection in the mirror, aside from the deep red splashed across your cheeks. You walk calmly out of the bathroom and down the corridor, ignoring the spike in your pulse when you see the back of the security guard still standing there.

He turns around at the sound of your footsteps, a smirk curling his lips. “Hey gorgeous, are you-”

“There you are,” Butcher calls, striding toward you.

He wraps an arm around your waist, his hand splayed across your lower back as he presses your body against his. You don’t have time to respond before his lips capture yours. Your knees almost buckle, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as his mouth moves against yours and your mind goes completely blank.

He pulls back ever so slightly, his forehead still touching yours as he whispers, “I missed you.”

The feeling that bubbles in your chest makes your heart want to explode.

“Better get back in there,” he says, carefully releasing you.

You nod, unable to summon a single word as he looks at you like that, his pupils blown and his lips swollen from the kiss. He takes one of your hands in his and pulls you toward the doors before casting a menacing scowl over his shoulder at the security guard.

“Did he touch you?” he asks, his voice low.

You shake your head, “No.”

“Good.”

“Wait,” you tug on his hand before he can walk through the doors.

He frowns as you pull him to the side, into an alcove beneath the grand stairs that lead up to the private rooms above the event hall. He doesn’t resist when you press him against the wall, your hands on his chest and your body covering his. You look up at him through your thick lashes, and you can feel a soft groan rumble through his chest.

“I’m not sure we were convincing enough,” you whisper, before surging up and pressing your lips against his.

His hands hold the back of your head as he tilts his own to deepen the kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips and making you whimper. Your ears fill with the erratic thrum of your heart and the soft moans from the man in front of you, making you forget about everything that isn’t him. The fire rushing through your veins collects at your core, burning with need and making you clench as his hands wander down your back to cup your ass.

Time loses all meaning as you tangle your limbs with his, your body throbbing almost painfully. You have to stop yourself from clawing at his clothes, every desire within you craving to tear his suit apart and absolutely devour him.

Eventually, your lungs begin to burn, and the short gasps between kisses aren’t enough to appease them, so you pull away. His pupils are huge, consuming almost all of the colour in his eyes as he studies your face with a small smile.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmurs.

You open your mouth to tell him the same when someone clears their throat, and you both snap toward the sound. Hughie is standing a few feet away, his ID badge now on a lanyard around his neck and a notebook in his hand. His face looks pained, struggling to contain what would be a hysterical laugh if you weren’t all supposed to be undercover.

You stumble back from Butcher with wide eyes, your mouth trying to form words but no sound comes out.

Butcher straightens his jacket and clears his throat, “Sorry, mate, as you were.”

Hughie takes a deep breath and turns toward the room, and you have to commend him for his self-control.

Butcher looks down at you, “D’you think that was convincing enough?”

You giggle, “Maybe a little too convincing.”

He smirks and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, wiping at the smeared lipstick. You know you must look like a wreck, your makeup smudged and your face blotchy and red, but you don’t care.

“Better get back in there before you get me arrested for public indecency,” he says, taking your hand in his.

You laugh again as he leads you back into the room, guiding you through the throngs of people and toward your table. Lucille greets you with a smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she surveys your flustered state. Butcher sits and shuffles his chair closer to yours before placing a hand on your thigh, much higher than where it was before.

“It’s a wonderful thing, isn’t it?” Lucille whispers to you.

You frown, “What is?”

“That love and passion,” she replies with a grin. “He just adores you, I can tell. Don’t ever let go of what you two have, it’s rare.”

You try to hide your smile, but it’s almost impossible. “I won’t.”

You’re not sure what you’ve missed but you assume it was Annie’s speech as the chatter around you is filled mostly with her name. The woman from before returns to the stage to rave some more, though you don’t bother trying to pay attention. Butcher is watching you with hungry eyes, filling your head with filthy thoughts and absolutely soaking your panties.

“So, Mrs. Williams,” he says, his voice low, “got any plans after this?”

“Not really,” you reply, “but I do think there’s a toy in the top drawer of my dresser calling my name.”

He swallows thickly, “Is that so?”

You nod, “I’m feeling a little wound up.”

“Perhaps I could help you unwind,” he whispers, “think I’d do a better job than that fuckin’ toy.”

“That’s a bold statement, are you sure?”

His fingers dig into your thighs with enough pressure to bruise, making your whole body jolt.

“Oh, I’m fuckin’ sure.”

His hand slides up your thigh and you part your legs instinctively.

He smirks, “Good girl, so responsive.”

The burning in your core pulses, sending white hot waves of desire up your spine to cloud your mind. His fingers brush the crotch of your panties, barely a touch but enough to make you sigh softly.

“You’re soaked,” he whispers, “so ready for my c-”

Cheers erupt throughout the room, drowning out his voice and startling you out of your stupor. His hand slides back down your leg and his smirk breaks into a devilish grin when you look at him with a scowl.

“Sorry, love,” he says as he retrieves his phone from his jacket pocket.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, drawing steady breaths and trying to focus on anything but the man beside you. He chuckles at his phone before tucking it back into his pocket.

“Was that your mistress?” you tease.

He raises his brows, “Is that jealousy I’m hearin’?”

You slide your hand up his thigh, stopping just below his crotch to squeeze.

“You tell me, do I have anything to be jealous of?”

His voice is almost a groan, “Never.”

“Good.”

You slide your hand over his crotch, relishing in the way his whole body tenses before you pull back and fold your hands in your own lap. He sighs and takes a generous gulp from his glass of champagne, grimacing at the taste before leaning toward you with an arm over the back of your chair.

“You’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”

You turn to him, your face barely an inch from his, “Oh, baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

He leans back in his chair, his jaw tense but his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You fond of that dress?” he asks casually.

“This old thing? Nah.”

He nods once, “Good, because I’m goin’ to fuckin’ destroy it.”

The woman sitting on his other side chokes on her mouthful of champagne, casting an abhorrent glare toward the two of you before completely turning her back. You have to swallow your laughter, averting your gaze to your lap as Butcher chuckles quietly.

You feel your purse vibrate at the same time that Butcher reaches for his pocket. You pull your phone out and check the messages, finding several from Hughie.

‘We’re here to WORK, not fornicate.’

‘I just spent five minutes laughing to myself in the toilet.’

‘The shows closing soon, we should leave before the crowds. Unless you and Butcher are busy ;)’

“D’you think you can make it out of here without your knees bucklin’, love?” Butcher asks with a smirk.

You tuck your phone away and twist in your chair so that your legs are toward him, parting them slowly. The red silk slides against your skin and the split opens with your legs. Butcher’s gaze drops, his whole face turning red as his eyes grow wide.

“I bet you a hundred dollars that you’re rock hard right now,” you whisper, leaning forward.

His jaw twitches as his gaze moves to your chest, and you smirk before twisting toward Lucille.

“We’re going to duck out before the masses, but it was lovely meeting you,” you say, “and best wishes to your grandkids. They’re lucky to have such incredible grandparents.”

She smiles at you, her eyes watery, “It was lovely meeting you too, dear.”

Her husband grumbles a farewell and you smile politely at the rest of the table who you hadn’t bothered to meet before turning back to Butcher expectantly. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the way he shifts in his seat.

“Pleasure meeting you,” he nods toward Lucille and Jack.

He pushes his chair back and stands up, drawing a hand out of his pocket and dropping two fifty dollar bills onto the table before stepping back. A grin breaks across your face as you snatch the money and stand up, taking Butcher’s outstretched hand and letting him lead you out of the room. You almost stumble at the pace at which he drags you through the crowds, not stopping until you’re through the foyer, out the doors, and a good distance from the building’s entrance.

“You owe me,” he growls, yanking on your wrist so that you fall into his arms.

“Take whatever you want,” you whisper, “I’m all yours.”

Another rumble vibrates through his chest, and the knot of anticipation in your stomach twists tighter.

“Good, you’re here,” Hughie calls, his feet slapping against the pavement as he jogs toward you.

Butcher’s hold goes slack, and you take a reluctant step away from him as MM and Kimiko follow a few paces behind Hughie. The cold air nips at your bare skin, making you shiver.

“Where’s Frenchie?” MM asks.

“On his way,” Hughie replies with his phone in his hand, “and the car is close.”

You startle at the feeling of material falling around your shoulders, and glance up as Butcher steps in front of you, his arms guiding his blazer over your trembling body. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him through your thick lashes as his lips curl into a soft smile. He moves back to stand at your side and wraps one arm around you, pulling you against side.

Hughie’s grin is so wide you want to slap it off his face.

“Not a word,” Butcher mutters.

Hughie chuckles, “I didn’t say anything.”

MM is clearly amused, and even Kimiko is giggling when Frenchie comes jogging up behind them.

“Did I miss something?” he asks, his brows raised as he looks from Butcher to you.

“Car’s here,” Hughie announces, and you all step toward the curb.

Hughie climbs in the front seat and greets the driver before texting rapidly on his phone, no doubt messaging Annie to let her know you were all safe and heading home. Kimiko and Frenchie shuffle toward the back of the van, and MM grumbles when neither you nor Butcher volunteer to join them. He squeezes between the two of them on the backseat before Butcher helps you into the van, and you take the single seat behind the passenger as Butcher falls into the last seat behind the driver.

You shrink into his jacket, enveloping yourself in his scent and relishing the warmth that his body had left behind. His eyes don’t leave you for the duration of the trip, studying your face, lingering on your lips, and moving up and down your body over and over again.

The drive feels much longer than it should, but the car finally pulls up outside your apartment block and you all pile out. Frenchie begins rambling about pieces of information he overheard, and MM fills in some of the gaps with snippets that he picked up in the press crowd. You almost feel guilty that you did nothing but dry hump Butcher and chat with an elderly rich woman, but that guilt washes away the moment you step inside the apartment.

“Bed, now,” Butcher tells you, tugging you by your hand toward the master bedroom.

“Y/N,” Hughie calls before you can disappear, “I thought your bedroom was that way.”

You turn to him with a frown, finding that stupid boyish grin stretched across his lips as the rest of the room watches you with amused faces.

“I’m not going to sleep, Hughie,” you say, before turning to Butcher, “I’m not tired.”

You catch a glimpse of his disgusted expression before you turn and rush into Butcher’s bedroom, followed closely by the man himself. His hand catches the collar the jacket and pulls it off of you as you step toward the bed.

“Not tired?” he asks, starting on the top button of his shirt.

You sit on the edge of the bed and kick your heels off. “Not at all.”

“Good.”

In two strides, he’s right in front of you, using his knee to nudge your legs apart so he can stand between them. His eyes trace up your bare leg, stopping where the red material reveals an inch of your black panties, and he sighs.

“So,” you say, leaning back with your hands on the bed, “what do I owe you?”

His self-control snaps and his hands yank at the opening of his shirt, ripping the rest of the buttons apart before he shrugs it off his shoulders. He straddles your hips and pushes you back, his lips assaulting your neck as you writhe beneath him.

“You said, I could take whatever fuckin’ I want,” he mutters against your skin.

You only moan in response and he sinks his teeth into your neck, hard enough to leave a bruise before soothing it with his tongue.

“I’m gon’a take all of you,” he growls, “but first-”

He sits back suddenly, his fingers making quick work of his belt and the fastenings of his trousers.

“I made a promise to this dress,” he finishes, before gripping the material on either side of the slit and ripping it.

You gasp as the silk falls loose around your body, tearing right up to the neck and cleaving the dress apart entirely. His eyes rake over your bare skin as he licks his lips and drops onto his hands to hover over you, grinding his hips down and eliciting another moan from your mouth.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he sighs, “you’re gon’a kill me with those pretty noises, sweethear’.”

“Butcher,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I need you.”

His elbows buckle and his body falls on top of yours as his lips capture yours in a searing kiss.

“You have me,” he murmurs against your mouth, “you’ve got all of me.”

END.

#billy butcher #the boys #billy butcher x reader #butcher x reader #karl urban #one shot #oneshot #homelander #hughie campbell #starlight #mm #mothers milk #frenchie #kimiko #the female #fanfic #fanfiction

[donnas-dollface]

Y/N: When Alcina was born, the gods said, "She's too perfect for this world."

Heisenberg: Oh please, when she was born the devil said, "Oh, competition."

#incorrect resident evil quotes #incorrect re8 quotes #incorrect resident evil 8 quotes #incorrect resident evil village quotes #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil 8 x reader #re 8 village #re 8 #re8 #re8 village #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x female reader #countess alcina #lady alcina dimitrescu #re8 alcina #alcina demitriscu #lady dimitrescu #karl heisenberg resident evil village #karl heisenberg #re8 karl heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #lord heisenberg #resident evil heisenberg

[ladybathoryy]

Somebody please tell me who made this art??? Cuz I'm more than pleased about that little four boxes over there (⁠+⁠_⁠+⁠)

#help

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #donna beneviento #mother miranda #karl heisenburg x reader #salvatore moreau #rosemary winters #resident evil village fanart #re8 #re8 village #resident evil 8 #lady dimitrescu x female reader #alcina dimitrescu

[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

#karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg fanfic #karl heisenberg smut #karl heisenberg headcanons #resident evil 8 #resident evil #resident evil village #fluff #fem reader #female reader #requests are open #open requests #requests open #karl heisenberg x y/n #smut oneshot #smut writing #smut stories #smut warning #smut smut smut #kinktober 2023 #kinktober list #day 29 #tw breath play

[buryustogether]

mary on a cross

part 1 part 2 part 3

lycan/werewolf!heisenberg x f!reader

summary: for decades, the beast has provided for and protected your village. when he suddenly stops, however, the council decides a virgin sacrifice is in order to appease him.

warnings/tags: heavy religious talk/themes, sexual assault (checking virginity), sacrifice, mentions of blood and cannibalism, bondage, swearing, mentions of starvation and violence

author’s note: i wrote this at 3am based on a dream so be kind.

inspired by mary on a cross by ghost

‘ you go down just like holy mary ’

It was the village priest who asked if your virginity was still intact.

But the question was not unfounded.

You could not fathom as to why your ancestors had chosen this spot to settle down. It was a clearing near the bottom of a ravine, surrounded on the north and south by impassable mountains. The forest occupied the other directions, too thick and dense to travel through and cling to the hope you would make it back with all of your fingers and toes intact. Game was scarce, and luxuries such as spice and cloth even more so. It was desolate, and miserable.

You could not fathom as to why they had chosen this spot.

The legends told of the struggle they faced after first establishing your little village. They found no animals to hunt, and the fish they managed to capture from the small creek running along the perimeter were smaller than their dinner plates. Some starved. Others began to turn upon one another.

Then there came the beast.

They said no one laid eyes on him until after the first of the elk arrived at the town square, freshly slaughtered and with enough meat for everyone. It had appeared from seemingly thin air, with only a pair of deep-imprinted footsteps in the snow to suggest it had not wandered in and died on its own. They praised God for the gift. Then the next day, a pair of deer were delivered.

This went on for, they told, a week before someone spied their so-called savior. They spotted him in the nighttime, when he had come to gift them another elk, this one bigger than the last. He held the form of a man and wore clothes far warmer than theirs, shielded from the cold in ways they could not yet comprehend. But then he’d turned to the light, his eyes glinting, and they’d realized it was not a man in the slightest. His eyes were an otherworldly golden, his bared teeth jagged as blades. Long, black claws sprouted from his fingers and his grey hair curtained his face like a destroyed portrait.

The villagers began to offer payment for his deeds. They tried to leave him money, but it went untouched. A beast would have no use for their currency. They left him the word of God, and they found the Bible ripped to shreds. Then one, so the legends went, left upon his offering pedestal a pair of leather gloves.

They were gone the following morning, and he never took another thing.

And, as the elders have taught, the beast provided for the village for years, decades. He brought them food when they were close to starving - how he knew, they could not understand - and protected it from threats. He became their new god. There was no one that did not benefit from his protection, and he never failed to deliver.

Until last week.

Your eighteenth birthday had passed a number of days before, and your family had used up the rest of the sugar making your favorite tarts for your special occasion. Now, you wished you had savored them just a bit more.

The beast did not come on the first day of the week, nor the second or third. The villagers had grown lazy, used to being provided for, and there were no extra provisions hidden away for an unthinkable occasion such as this. Bellies began to grumble, and moods dropped like insects. The beast did not come the fourth, fifth, six, nor seventh day.

People panicked.

Some believed the end had come, and their loved ones were forced to stop them from ending themselves.

The council held a meeting, one each and every one of the villagers was required to attend. You found yourself sitting in one of the back most pews with your parents, head held low as the women did and hands crossed dutifully over your lap. You only looked up when the priest, backed by the council, cleared his throat from his pulpit and the worried chatter ceased.

The priest cleared his throat, seeming to be searching for the right words as dozens upon dozens of eyes bored into him. People needed this reassurance, promises that the beast, their god, had not abandoned them.

At last, he spoke. “These are trying times, as I’m sure everyone here knows and feels within their homes.” There passed around a number of murmured agreements. “The council and I have been meeting, searching for solutions to this problem.” He took a breath and closed his eyes; everyone waited. “We have come to the conclusion that, somehow, in some way, we have angered the beast. He has turned away from us in a test, and we must show him that we are still worth saving. We must offer him desirable, and valuable, in order to win back his affections.”

The village people burst into a storm of murmurs and whispers. Was it true? Had they truly angered him?

“What do you suggest we offer him, then?” demanded a man near the front. “We haven’t anything desirable, nor valuable. The beast provides us with everything we value.”

The priest held up a hand to silence him, as if this was precisely what he expected to come of his announcement. The council whispered behind him. You felt your stomach roiling as you glanced to your parents. Just what did you all have to give a deity such as the beast? If your village had something he wanted, it was beyond you why he had not taken it by now.

Perhaps he was too kind a god to steal from his followers.

The priest went on, his voice booming and powerful enough to shake the earth atop its core. “What we will give the beast is no object, nor anything we can see or touch.” There came a pause, long and haunting. “The Bible commands a virgin must be sacrificed in order to appease an angered god.”

The church may as well have imploded upon itself. Mothers gasped and clutched their children to their breasts. Young girls looked to their parents and tugged on their sleeves, demanding to know what had just been said.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach as your head snapped around to take everything in. Your pulse quickened and you fisted your skirts, then hurried to drop your head again. Perhaps if he didn’t see you, his eyes would flit right over you.

It wasn’t much of a secret you were still a virgin, what with how none of the young men in the village had successfully caught your eye. That - and you just simply weren’t ready. It was as easy as so.

Now, you were wishing you had just gone and got it over with in the hay bales in the back of the stables like every other girl your age.

“Now, everyone, calm yourselves.” The priest’s soothing tone swept again over the crowd, and they focused their attention back to his tall figure upon the raised platform. “The council has already decided upon a soul to offer the beast. Before we call out their name, we must remember this is for the greater good of the village, and our people. If we do not offer the beast a peace offering, we will freeze and starve. Is this really what we want?”

No, it was not what they wanted.

Your mouth went dry and you tried to keep your breathing even as a council member handed the priest a small piece of paper, and he read it silently first. Then -

“Y/N.”

Your world came to a halt. The clocks stopped ticking. The creek outside stopped murmuring and whispering. You lifted your head to find every pair of eyes in the church upon you, including your parents’, your friends’, your neighbors’.

This couldn’t happen. You weren’t going to be sacrificed to a beast, to a god. You just wouldn’t. You still had so much to live for.

So you did the only thing you could think to do.

You ran.

Your feet carried you in a flurry of motion down the aisle and through the doors, down the steps and into the icy street.

You only made it a few more yards before one of the men grabbed you and hauled you back.

Reality became a twisted, mocking version of itself from then on. You forced yourself to disappear from your consciousness as they restrained you to keep you from running, chained you to a bench in the back of the church so that the elders of the council could spread your legs and ensure you were a virgin. You felt your face heat and tears roll down your cheeks as your legs involuntarily kicked and flailed, their touches upon your most intimate parts a violation of your soul.

You could not tell when that stage ended, and another began. They dressed you in the finest skirts and silks, painted your face and made your hair. If there had been a mirror present, and the circumstances had been far, far different, you were sure you would have enjoyed gazing at your reflection. Thought you looked pretty, even.

But the circumstances were not different.

The circumstances found you deep, deep in the woods, chained to an offering pedestal, and kneeling with your arms above you.

Waiting to be found by the beast.

Your tears had dried and your panic and fear turned to rage. Your parents and friends had only stood by and allowed everything that happened to you be done, too concerned with their own selfish needs to bother protesting. They had only said their goodbyes and sent you away, intent on feasting what the beast brought them in return for your beauty, your body, your virginity… your blood.

You didn’t know quite what to expect - if the beast even did find you. If he was even alive. If he even wanted what you had to offer. Perhaps he would uphold his honorable reputation, explain his absence and anger with the villagers, set you free to take the message to the others. Or perhaps he would ravish you, thrilled with the sacrifice, then clap those fabled rows of razor teeth into your neck and lick up the waterfalls of blood that would spew from your throat.

Or perhaps you would die of the cold first, and you wouldn’t have to be alive to endure any of it.

The crack of a twig in the wood snagged your attention. You lifted your head, previously hung to stare at the snow beneath you, and searched the dense forest around you. Another snap; from your left, this time. A third, to your right. Rustling. Dead ahead.

“Well, well, well. Don’t you look like Mary on a cross.”

You heard his voice before you saw him. It was deep and drawling, tipped with some foreign tongue you could not place. He accentuated his words, as if he would shame himself for stumbling even once, as if he craved the attention his sentences alone brought him.

The lone figure of a man stepped into your view from the wood, and you were unable to keep your lips from parting and your breath from hitching. He was tall, taller than your father when he stood to his full height, and he wore clothing unlike you had ever seen before. A shirt unbuttoned against the freezing temperatures, shiny boots to stamp in the snow. A thin coat that wagged at his calves and a hat atop his grey hair. A pair of leather gloves. And shaded specs perched on his nose, not for reading or seeing, but purely for fashion.

You could not deny, in that moment, that he was the most attractive man you had ever seen.

The beast approached you slowly, like an apex predator stalking its prey, and kept his hands in his pockets as he did so. You wondered if, beneath those gloves, his fingers extended into claws, like in the legends. You wondered if his teeth were as jagged as they said, if his eyes were gold like molten copper behind those shades.

He stopped before you, a feet away, and crouched down on his haunches so that he could be at your level. It seemed he found your thundering pulse and wide eyes humorous, because he answered two of your thoughts at once; he grinned wide, showing off perfectly normal human teeth, and pushed his shades further down his nose to reveal hazel eyes, nearly bordering on silver. Everything about him screamed ordinary, but you knew he was anything but.

“What have we here?” he asked, leaning in closer. You flinched and turned your head away, straining against the chains around your wrists. He stopped at your reaction and tilted his head rather curiously. “You can ease up, there, princess. I’m not going to hurt you.” He flashed you another blinding grin. “Yet.”

A shiver climbed up your spine, and it was not from the cold.

The beast hummed as he stood and examined the chains holding you to the offering pedestal. “What are you doing all the way out here?” he asked. He gave the linked metal a testing yank. “And why the hell are you in a position like this?” He gave a self-indulgent chuckle. “If you wanted a ride with the big bad beast, you only needed to ask.”

“I didn’t do this myself,” you snapped, the first thing you’d spoken since his arrival. You felt your blood turn to ice as he glanced over at your outburst. You swallowed your fear and took a shuddering breath; you were sure your lips weds turning blue by now. “The village believes you’re angry with them. With us. That you’ve abandoned us and a… a sacrifice was required to appease you.”

Another chuckle came from the beast’s throat, this one a bit more amused than the last. “Oh, fuck. I swear, you humans get more and more loony with that religious stuff every decade. Let me guess.” He circled the pedestal and came to a stop on your other side, then slid a leather-clad hand to cup your face and make you look up at him. His fingers were not sharp; instead, they were warm. “You’ve never gotten your skirt lifted - am I right?”

He laughed when you jerked your head away and refused to look at him.

“Well, I’ll give you this,” he said, then grabbed one of the chains with a powerful grip, “you’re one hell of a volunteer.” Like it was made of nothing but twine, he ripped the chain clean from the pedestal and dropped it to the ground. Your arm screamed in relief and you almost did, too. He moved on to the other chain. “And I hate to burst your little sacrilegious bubble, but I didn’t ‘abandon’ you people. Ever heard of taking a nap? Forgive me for sleeping in a little.”

You didn’t quite know how to respond to his words as he let the other chain down, and you were able to undo the clasps around your wrists. Sleeping? He had been sleeping, hibernating, even, and your people thought the world was ending?

How stupid they all sounded.

But you stuck to one bit of his dialogue - the piece that angered you the most. “I didn’t volunteer,” you said roughly as you rubbed your raw, tender wrists. He stopped from where he was now inspecting the heavy chains, gaze sliding to your hunched form. “They… they forced me to do this. They made sure I was still a virgin, and, and dragged me out here -“

“What’s your name?”

His simple request startled you from the rant you were preparing. You suddenly felt small beneath his intense gaze, and you found yourself huddling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around your legs. “Y/N,” you whispered.

The beast dropped the chains, whatever interest he had in them now gone, and stalked closer. You cowered slightly, tilting your head away. He crouched, waited a moment, then reached out like he had before and took the point of your chin under his thumb. Gently, but still forcefully, he dragged your head back around so that you were looking right at him. With his other hand, he pulled his shades off, and you were able to gaze directly into those silvery eyes of his. You swore you could have seen stars dancing within the irises.

“Hate to be the one to tell you this, sweetheart,” he rumbled, his tone slightly different than it had been before, “but I’m going to kill those people for putting their hands on a pretty little thing like you.” He must have felt your breath hitch, because he tilted his head and brushed a thumb over your bottom lip; you were unable to stop the feeling of powerful heat that went straight to your core between your thighs. “Innocence is a treasure not many poor souls on this damned earth have any more; and who is man to take it from another for his own self preservation?”

He pulled away, and you let out the breath you were unaware you had been holding. The beast offered you a hand, and, your own still shaking slightly, you accepted. He hauled you to your feet and said, “Name’s Heisenberg. You can call me Karl; but only when it’s just you and I, pretty girl.”

Warily, you glanced over your shoulder, back toward the village. “You… you’re not going to -“

“Oh, no,” he said, then cupped your face and brought you close to his own. You found yourself leaning into his warm, warm touch. “Those pricks don’t deserve you; not after what they’ve done. Besides, I’d like to wait them out… see how long it takes for them to turn on one another when the cupboards empty out and there’s no one to bring them food.”

Blinking rapidly, you murmured low, “Why have you been…”

“Feeding you?” The beast - Heisenberg - said. You nodded. “Call me old fashioned, but I like the idea of helping people.” He slid his shades back on, and his enchanting gaze disappeared. “But only the ones who deserve it.” He took a few steps back to where he’d come from, then glanced back. “Coming?” he asked. A sick, twisted kind of smile blossomed across his lips. “Or, would you like to pay your dear people a visit? Have a little fun - the way they had theirs with you?”

You thought about your answer.

Then matched his sadistic grin.

Heisenberg gave a low laugh and swept back toward you, bringing his lips inches from yours. You did not shy away this time. “Oh, I think I’m going to like you.”

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #re8 karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x female reader #heisenberg x reader #heisenberg #resident evil heisenberg #resident evil vii #resident evil village #resident evil 8

[yoursweetdenial]

Miranda and the 4 Lords: *greet Y/N and tell her their names*

Y/N: I'm not good with names. *addressing Alcina* Uhmm... Can I call you mine?)))

Donna to Miranda: That was smooth

#resident evil #resident evil meme #resident evil village #re8 village #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #tall vampire lady #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x fem! reader #alcina x female reader #alcina x y/n #donna beneviento #angie beneviento #karl heisenberg #salvatore moreau #mother miranda #the four lords #resident evil incorrect quotes #resident evil imagines

[willalove75]

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 19 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: In the aftermath of the meeting Alcina is feeling guilty and you try and ease her pain.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI.

Tags: Some angst, some fluff

Notes: Part 19! I know things have been HELLA angsty lately but I promise the next few chapters I have planned will be fun and fluffy and perhaps even a little bit smutty😏💕 We'll be putting all of that angst to bed for a bit!

A/N: If you picked up the mildly obscure Toy Story reference, I love you hahah I'll link the reference at the end for those who missed it!

Click here for the rest of the series

Gif source

Alcina's tears slowed and eventually stopped flowing. When she felt your fingers in her hair still and heard your breaths even out she relaxed a little knowing you were asleep. She stayed there for a little longer, with her head resting on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as you slept. The steady beat of your heart and your gentle breaths relaxed her as the guilt ate away at her.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she finally lifted her head from your chest and your fingers slid out of her ebony curls and onto the bed next to you. Removing the gauze that was on your neck wound, she winced when she looked at it again. The bleeding had stopped for the most part, only trickles of blood still flowing from it. You definitely needed stitches. The longer Alcina looked at the wound the more her hands trembled - she would never be able to stitch you up like this. She tried her best to keep her hands steady but the harder she tried, the more they trembled and the more frustrated she became.

A knock on the door pulled her attention away from her hands and your neck.

"Mother?" Bela said as she opened the door.

"Yes?"

"Aunt Donna, Angie and Uncle Heisenberg are here for you."

Alcina grumbles and brings her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

"Alright, I'll be there in a moment."

"Do you need help with anything?"

Alcina pulls the fresh gauze away again to confirm you're still bleeding. Sighing in defeat, she turns to her daughter.

"Can you take over and continue to apply pressure to her neck?"

"Is she okay?" Bela asks, walking closer to the bed.

"Yes, she's asleep. Please try and not wake her. I am going to freshen myself up before going downstairs."

Bela sits on the edge of the bed and holds the gauze against your neck as Alcina makes her way into the bathroom. After a few minutes Alcina comes out in a new, clean dress. Her hair is fixed and her makeup is flawless. If Bela didn't see her mother so upset herself she never would have thought that she had been crying so hard. All evidence of her breakdown has been erased.

"I shall be back in a little while with Donna. She is going to need stitches and I am going to have Donna do it while she's here. If anything changes, do not hesitate to come get me."

"Yes mother."

Alcina ducks out of the door and Bela hears her footsteps getting further and further away.

Less than five minutes later Daniela appears in the bedroom next to Bela.

"How is she?" Daniela asks with worry in her eyes.

"She's okay. She's asleep so don't wake her Dani - Dani!" Bela hisses as Daniela crawls onto the bed and lays down next to you.

"Shh! And you're worried about me waking her up!" Daniela whispers which elicits an eye roll from Bela. "How's her neck?"

Bela removes the gauze and examines it before applying pressure to it again.

"It's still bleeding a little, she's definitely going to need stitches. Mom said she's going to have Donna do it before she leaves. But it's going to leave a nasty scar."

"Do you think mom will put the healing salve on it?"

"No, she only used it last time out of desperation. Mother doesn't want to expose her to the mold unless she absolutely has to."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Where's Cass? Still in the dungeon?"

"Yeah, she's been throwing things around in there all day. I think she even took a maid who had been misbehaving down there."

"Yikes."

Daniela's eyes wander over your sleeping figure, the bandages on your chest, the dried blood caked to your skin, the wound Bela was covering. She pouts and lays her head on the pillow next to you, gently moving your hair out of your face as you slept.

Alcina makes her way downstairs into one of the sitting rooms. As soon as she ducks through the door she sees her hat floating across the floor.

"Look I'm the dragon lady!" Angie's voice screeches from underneath the hat. "Roar! I'm so big and scary! Fear me!"

"Give me that." Alcina says, swiping the hat from Angie's head.

"Ugh, you're such a buzzkill, Godzilla!"

Alcina growls at Angie who runs towards Donna and climbs into her lap. She dusts off her hat and places it on one of the tables.

"How's the kid?" Karl says.

"Alive, no thanks to you." She snaps.

"What the fuck? Why the fuck is this shit my fault?!"

"You said you would protect her! Both of you said you would protect her and you did nothing!" Alcina yells.

"We were waiting for you to fucking do something you gigantic psychopath!"

"What was I supposed to do?! If I made another move Miranda would have killed her on the spot! There was nothing I could do!"

"And you don't think that crazy bird bitch wouldn't have snapped her neck with one hand if we did anything?! Plus it's not our fault you can't fucking control yourself you bloodthirsty bitch!"

Angie cackles. "Yeah! Get her!"

They meet in the middle of the room and are toe-to-toe, glaring at each other. Angie jumps off of Donna's lap and jumps around the two of them.

"How dare you!"

"This is the last time I try and do you any fucking favors!"

"Good because you couldn't even do the one thing you said you would! You unreliable greaseball!"

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" Angie chants.

"Listen here you fucking cun-"

"Karl, Alcina, that is enough." Donna says, standing from her seat.

"Donna do not get in my way because I am as equally as angry at you right now." Alcina hisses.

"Alcina, please. Karl, sit down!" She says, pulling him the collar and throwing him into a chair.

"Hey!" He yells.

"Be quiet." Donna snaps before turning towards Alcina. "Alcina, please. What did you want us to do? There was nothing we could have done that wouldn't have put her life at further risk. Like Karl said, Miranda could have easily snapped her neck with one hand or when she had her caught up in the vines. We were powerless."

"What about the rest of the time?! When she was fighting against those vines! I did what I could but Miranda had me restrained! The both of you just stood there doing nothing!"

"Alcina, that's not true-"

"Then what the hell were you doing?!" Alcina screams, causing Donna to flinch and begin trembling.

"Will you stop fucking screaming at her?!" Heisenberg yells, getting in between the two of them. "Your temper is just as fucking short as you are gigantic. For your fucking information, we wanted to help. The minute Miranda wrapped you up we went to step in but Miranda eyeballed the two of us and had her vines pointed right at us. If we made any moves we would have been even more useless because we would have been fucking strung up on the ceiling by our ankles."

"Alcina, we wanted to help, we tried. There was nothing we could do that wouldn't have risked her life or made the situation worse."

Alcina lets out a shout of frustration before turning around and grabbing a nearby chair and throwing it into the wall, the chair shattering into splinters on impact. Her chest is heaving and her hands are balled into fists at her side. They begin to tremble as she struggles to keep her composure and not break down in front of everyone.

She was the matriarch of the castle, the one who never showed emotion - aside from anger. It was bad enough Donna had seen her in such a state multiple times over the last few months. It was worse that Karl witnessed her acting tender towards you. It would be a cold day in hell when she lets herself cry in front of them, Karl especially.

Hot tears sting her eyes as she struggles to keep herself together. It was easier thinking they just stood there and did nothing, at least then she was able to blame someone else. But after learning that they tried, and even worse, knowing that they were right in their suspicion that Miranda would have killed you if they stepped in to help, Alcina had no one else to blame for your pain but herself.

She broke her promise to keep you safe - again.

The realization hits her like a truck. Letting out a pained cry, she throws a table against the wall, it's pieces falling amongst the rubble from the chair.

Alcina squeezes her eyes shut, wiling the tears to go away. They threaten to roll down her cheeks but she grits her teeth and pushes everything she's feeling down with all of her strength.

You begin to wake up, feeling the sensation of tiny fingers running through your hair.

"She's waking up." You hear a familiar voice say.

"Hmm?" You mumble.

Turning your head towards the sound, you let out a small whimper from the pain at your neck.

"Easy, easy, don't move your head too much." The voice says.

Opening your eyes, you're met with a small pair of golden eyes with red strands of hair falling in front of them on one side.

"Daniela?"

"Yes, micuțo, I'm here." (Little one)

"Where's Alcina?" You ask, your eyes barely able to stay open.

"Karl, Donna and Angie are here, she went to talk to them." Bela says.

"Oh, okay." Your brows furrow as you feel the pressure of the gauze against your neck. "Fuck that hurts."

"I'm sure it does. When mom gets back Donna is going to stitch you up and we'll give you something for the pain, okay?"

"Okay."

"Go back to sleep micuțo, you need to rest." Daniela says, caressing your hair.

Your eyes close and you're swept away by sleep once more.

Not long after Alcina, Donna, Angie and Karl enter the room. Alcina didn't want an audience but Karl was being as stubborn as ever and Angie of course goes wherever Donna goes.

Sitting on the edge of the bed - taking over from Bela - Alcina runs her fingers through your hair.

"Draga, draga wake up." She says, her voice as comforting as a warm breeze. "Come on, iubirea mea. You have to wake up."

Your eyes flutter open and are met with Alcina's glowing golden eyes.

"There you go. Just like that, come now, you have to wake up."

"Alcina?"

"Yes love, it's me. I'm here." She says as she strokes your cheek with the back of her fingers. "Donna and Karl are here."

"I'm here too!" Angie screams.

Alcina shoots the doll a glare and turns her attention back to you.

"You need stitches, Donna is going to administer them, alright?"

"Okay."

Alcina moves to the other side of the bed after shooing Bela and Daniela out of the room. Angie and Karl stand on the outskirts of Alcina's chambers while Donna stitches up your wound. The entire time you're being stitched up, Alcina is sitting next to you on the bed, holding your hand and caressing it with her thumb. The stitches weren't exactly painful, but the wound itself was. Every so often a rogue tear would roll down your cheek and Alcina would quickly wipe it away, shushing you and comforting you.

When Donna was finished she gave her work one more once-over before nodding at Alcina.

"Try not to move your neck too much to avoid popping any stitches." Donna says. "You can remove them in a weeks time."

"Thank you, Donna." Alcina says.

"Of course. I'm glad to see you're okay, Y/N." Donna says to you.

"Thank you."

Angie climbs up onto the bed and stands on your chest, staring at your face. It's not that Angie weighs much, but it's still uncomfortable having anything standing on your chest right now.

"Will you get off of her." Alcina says, pushing Angie off of your chest.

"Hey! Watch it!" Angie argues before shooting a glare at Alcina, who returns the look. Staring at you once more Angie tilts her head at you. "You know, I was only kidding when I called you her new blood bag! But I guess I was right all along!" She says with an ear piercing cackle.

Alcina's eyes grow wide and angry at the doll and Donna quickly scoops her up and ushers her out of the door.

"Hey! Donna! What the hell?!" She manages to yell before Donna closes the door on her. "Oh come on! I was only kidding!" Angie's muffled voice calls from the other side of the door.

Karl walks up to the edge of the bed and looks down at you.

"How're ya feelin, kid?"

"Never better."

Karl chuckles and pulls something out of his waistband. "Here, found this on the floor of the chapel. It's pretty fucked up to toss a brand new gift, especially something as perfectly hand-crafted as this, onto a dirty chapel floor." He says with a wink before handing you the dagger he gifted you earlier in the day.

"Huh, sorry. I figured since it came from you it was used to laying around in trash." You quip.

Karl bursts into laughter and pats your shoulder. "Yeah, she'll be fine." He says to Alcina.

Alcina's eyes are trained on the dagger in your hand as it lays on your chest. Her eyes glued to the dried blood caked into the Dimitrescu coat of arms engraving. Nearly the entire engraving was now the rusted color of dried blood - your blood. Her heart clenches as she relives watching Miranda drag her nail down your chest.

"Hello? Earth to Alcina?" Karl says, snapping her out of her trance. "There's no way you're bloodthirsty already. You already took half of her shit!" He says.

Alcina's eyes shoot up to Karl and they narrow at him dangerously. She lets out a low growl and Karl puts his hands up.

"Jesus, I'm just kidding. That stick up your ass must me a mile long."

"Is there anything else you need or are you going to continue to bother us like the pest you are and keep her from resting?" Alcina snaps.

"Alright, alright. No need to get your parachute-sized panties in a bunch. I'm leaving, I'm leaving. Catch ya later, kid." He says to you with a tip of his hat and leaves the room. Donna nods to the two of you and follows him out, closing the door behind them.

You carefully turn towards Alcina, trying to be mindful of the stitches in your neck and she has a far away look in her eyes.

"Hey," you say, placing your hand over hers. "What's wrong?"

Alcina snaps out it and looks down at you.

"Nothing, I am fine." She says before taking the dagger from your hand and getting up to put it away.

As she walks towards the vanity where the leg holster is, she runs her thumb over the bloodied coat of arms. She didn't even realize she stopped moving until she felt something grab at her thigh.

Looking down, she sees you standing next to her with your arms wrapped around her leg.

"Draga, you need to be in bed and rest!" She says, putting the dagger down and turning her attention to you.

"I know, but you're not okay. I can see it in your eyes. Talk to me, Alci. Please."

"Come, you have to get back in bed."

"Can I at least shower and put on clean clothes?"

Looking down at you and realizing that you're still covered in dried blood and dirty, bloody clothing. Alcina sighs in defeat and agrees.

After a quick shower and some fresh pajamas, you lay down on the new sheets Alcina had a maid put on the bed while you were cleaning yourself up - exchanging them for the bloodied sheets you were once laying on.

You wanted to talk to Alcina, to find out what was wrong. Well, you're pretty sure you knew what was wrong given everything that happened but the moment your head hit the pillow a current of sleep pulled you under.

The next few days were a blur. Alcina was constantly coming and going from her chambers, checking in on you nearly every hour. All of the physical trauma that happened to your body seemed to catch up with you. Not only were you absolutely exhausted, your neck was bruised and swollen from Miranda's hand and the vines. You realized quickly after you woke up the next morning you could barely speak, to which Alcina muttered to herself "I had a feeling this would happen." and promptly had a maid bring you hot tea and soft foods.

Each day that passed Alcina seemed to be withdrawing into herself more and more. A familiar fear began to creep into your chest. Last time she became withdrawn she broke your heart into a thousand pieces, you were worried she was heading down that path again. You so desperately wanted to talk to her but you physically couldn't. So you tried to communicate your feelings physically. Kissing her, holding her hand whenever she sat near you, cuddling into her as close as you possibly could at night. You were happy that she was reciprocating your advances but something in her eyes still made her seem so far away.

On the fifth night, your voice was finally on the mend. It was raspy as hell, but at least you were able to speak.

Alcina was laying next to you reading a book. Her reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. You wiggled under her arm and cuddled into her, resting your head on her breast. She looked down at you and chuckled and adjusted her arm so you were comfortable. Wrapping your arm around her waist, your fingers drew abstract shapes across the silk of her nightgown. You couldn't help but look up at her and admire her beauty.

It was so rare for anyone to see her like this. With her hair down, no makeup, laying in just a nightgown with her reading glasses on. You could clearly see the laugh lines that adorned her perfect lips, even though their signature red rouge was absent. They still looked as full as ever. The crows feet in the corners of her eyes perfectly complimented her laugh lines. You could see every scar and stretchmark that adorned her neck, chest and face - no doubt most of them coming from the rapid growth she endured after getting the cadou. You wondered how many of them she carried over from her previous life and how many of them were new. She was effortlessly beautiful, yet something lurked in her eyes that made you believe that she never once looked at herself that way.

"You do know it's rude to stare, right, draga?" She says, her eyes not leaving her book.

"People stare at artwork all the time and that's considered a compliment." You rasped.

Alcina smirked and rolled her eyes before they landed on you. "Is there something I can do for you?" She asks, closing her book.

"Nuh-uh. I'm just looking at the most beautiful person I've ever laid eyes on."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, draga mea." She says before leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

"No I'm good, I'm fine. How are you?"

"Me? There's no need to worry about me." She pulls the covers off of her and moves to stand up but you hold onto her, keeping her in place.

"But I am worried about you."

"Don't. Let me up, I am going to put my book away."

You release her from your grip with a sigh and watch her as she returns her book to the bookshelf and places her glasses on the vanity.

"I can't help it. I haven't been able to talk to you for almost a week. We haven't even been able to talk about what happened."

"We will have plenty of time to discuss what happened. What's important now is that you rest your voice and continue healing."

"Alcina, please. You're pulling away again. You've been doing it all week. It's starting to worry me. Please just talk to me."

Alcina places her hands on her vanity and looks down.

"I don't know what it is you want me to say."

"Anything, say anything. Tell me how you're feeling, let me know what you're thinking, anything." Alcina stands there, unmoving and silent. "Alcina please, it scares me when you get like this. Please let me help." You try your best to keep your voice steady but it still shakes. Alcina closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

"I don't want to burden you, you have enough to deal with draga."

"It's not a burden, you are never a burden. I'm more worried about you than anything else right now. Please, just talk to me. You promised you would talk to me."

She hangs her head and digs her nails into her palms. After taking a minute to collect her thoughts she finally speaks. "I'm afraid, draga." She says and looks up at you through the mirror.

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid of myself, afraid of losing control again. I nearly killed you. I was completely out of control." Even from this distance you can see her eyes start to gloss over.

"But you didn't."

"But I very easily could have. That side of me, it is dangerous. It is horrific and monstrous-"

"Don't say that about yourself-"

"You have no idea what you're talking about!" She shouts as she turns towards you. "That side of me is nothing compared to what you've seen. It is ugly and horrifying and no one other than Mother Miranda has seen it in it's entirety. That was the first time anyone aside from my girls have even seen my wings! Those ugly, awful-"

"Alcina, they were beautiful."

"No they are not."

"They are to me."

"Nothing about that side of me is beautiful, draga. Nothing."

"Why are you so afraid of it?"

"Because I have no control over it! You saw what happened, I heard you begging and screaming to let you go and there wasn't a single thing I was able to do! It was like my mind was trapped in a body I had no control over."

Suddenly it felt like a bucket of cold water was thrown over you. You knew Alcina wasn't in control, but you thought that a different conscious took over and hers went dormant. But she heard you begging for your life. You were right, Mother Miranda wanted her to kill you. She wanted Alcina to be imprisoned as she watched you die in her arms.

"You heard me?"

"Yes. And when I'm in that state there is nothing I can do to stop myself." She wraps her arms around herself and looks down at the ground. "That's why I was so afraid when she told me to feed from you."

"Because she knows you're not in control. She wanted you to watch what you did to me but not be able to stop it."

"Precisely."

You move over and pat the empty side of the bed, silently asking Alcina to join you again. She stands there for a moment, her arms still wrapped around herself, almost as if she's afraid to get too close to you. "Come on." You say as you wave her over. Eventually she sighs and lays back down in bed. Being mindful of your stitches, you curl into her and lay your head on her shoulder.

"But you stopped. You weren't in control but you stopped." You said.

"I don't know what you did to stop me but I can never guarantee that will happen again. You were lucky. We were lucky that monster stopped."

"Alcina, please."

"I don't know what else you want me to call it, it's a monster."

"What does it look like, your full form?"

"Like a dragon of sorts."

"Of sorts?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Okay, then call it a dragon, not a monster. For me, please?"

Alcina looks into your pleading eyes and rolls hers. "I will try."

"Thank you. Do you want to know how I got you to stop?"

"Yes."

"As you were feeding from me I remembered Cassandra saying that fear makes blood taste sweeter. I realized every time I felt fearful, the bite would get worse. So I relaxed myself in your arms and stroked your cheek. I asked you to please stop, that it was enough. Just when I thought I had failed and that I was going to die, you slowed down and stopped."

"I am so sorry, draga." She says as she wipes a few tears away and kisses the top of your head.

"But the most interesting thing happened after you stopped."

"What was that?"

"Even though your eyes were completely white, you looked afraid when you looked down at me in your arms and saw what happened. Was that the dragon, or was that you?"

Alcina leans her head back for a moment to think. She closes her eyes and her brows furrow.

"I think it was both of us. I was screaming, trying to get it to stop. Then it realized what it had done and I felt it's fear."

"Do you remember what happened afterwards?"

"When that mon-" you shoot her a look and she huffs. "when that dragon takes over my memory becomes hazy, so I don't remember everything clearly."

"You nuzzled me and whimpered."

"What?"

"Yeah, you nuzzled me and I heard you let out a whimper like a sad puppy. Then Mother Miranda took a step towards us and you growled at her. She took another step forward and you stepped backwards and then you full on snarled at her."

"Did I really?" Alcina asks with a look of surprise on her face.

"Yeah. Why? What's wrong?"

"It only ever responded to Mother Miranda. She was the only one that was ever able to control it." She says with a faraway look in her eye. Shaking her head, she looks back down at you. "Sorry, please continue."

"It's okay. After that you kneeled on the ground and covered us with your wings. Your mouth went to move towards my neck and I stopped you. I wasn't sure if you were going to try and feed again but instead you nuzzled me again and started purring, like really loudly. Louder than I've ever heard before."

A faint blush dusts Alcina's cheeks and she looks away as if she's embarrassed. "I'm sorry." She mumbles.

"What? Alcina, there's absolutely nothing to apologize for, especially for that." You say as you guide her chin back towards you. "Honestly? I liked it. It made me feel safe. Even when you do it and it's a faint purr, its comforting."

"I suppose that, thing, and I are more connected than I would care to admit. We are one in a way."

"That's why I don't want you to hate it or talk badly about it. It's part of who you are, and everything about you is beautiful and worthy of love."

Alcina's breath stalls in her chest and she looks deep into your eyes with wonder. "You are truly fascinating. You never cease to amaze me, draga mea." She whispers, as if she's talking to herself.

You sit up and bring your lips to meet hers in a gentle, passionate kiss. "I love everything about you. Everything that you are, Alcina. Always." You whisper against her lips before she kisses you again.

When your lips part you rest your head in the crook of her neck and she runs her fingers through your hair.

"Did anything else happen?" She asks.

"Well when I realized you weren't going to feed again, I let you move back towards the bite mark you started licking it and cleaning it."

"That I do faintly remember. Right before I came back, correct?"

"Yeah, you placed a kiss on it and when you pulled back the white in your eyes faded back to your usual gold."

"That's right. I do remember that. That's why Mother Miranda had that incredulous look on her face. Because the mon-"

"Alcina." You interrupt.

"Sorry, I've been calling it that for nearly 60 years, it's going to take some time to break that habit." She says defensively. "Anyway, she had that look on her face because the dragon disobeyed her, it rejected her and chose you."

"Man that must have pissed her off."

"It very likely had."

"Do you think she'll leave me alone now?"

"I hope so, draga mea. Mother Miranda is a woman of her word. She promised she would leave you alone from now on."

"She said that last time."

"Technically, she said she would respect my property."

"Is that not the same thing?"

"For Mother Miranda, no. But she swore to leave you alone so I can only hope she keeps her word."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

You stifle a yawn and Alcina chuckles and kisses you on the forehead.

"Sleep, draga." She says as she slides down under the covers and wraps her arms around you. "You need rest. And you need to rest your voice. You only just got it back and I fear that the length of our conversation will set you back in your recovery."

"It would be worth it. I missed talking to you. And we needed to talk."

"That we did, iubirea mea." She says as she nuzzles into your hair. "I missed talking to you too. Now go to sleep."

Alcina kisses the shell of your ear and you fall asleep feeling her warm breath cascading over you.

Of course, the conversation the two of you had did indeed set your recovery back because you woke up without a voice again and didn't get it back for another two days.

Finally your week of recovery has gone by and Alcina was able to remove the stitches from your neck wound. She tried to hide her grimace at the scar but you saw the look on her face. Insisting on seeing it for yourself, you couldn't help but make the same face at first. Your reaction to it, even though it was involuntary, broke Alcina's heart and you could see it all over her face. You did your best to reassure her that it wasn't that bad and that it would fade some in time, but the both of you knew that it would still leave a very noticeable scar.

Feeling the guilt radiate off of her, you led her to the bed and had her lay down with you. Curling into her as tightly as possible, the two of you laid like that for hours, trying to let the aftermath of the meeting fade from your minds. The both of you still had a lot of thoughts and feelings to work out, but as you laid in each others arms, nothing else in the world mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reference: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C25l1SkYzb0

"Look I'm the dragon lady!" Angie's voice screeches from underneath the hat. "Roar! I'm so big and scary! Fear me!"

"Give me that." Alcina says, swiping the hat from Angie's head.

#willalove75 #lady dimitrescu #wlw fanfic #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu fanfic #re8 lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady alcina #alcina x female reader #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #re8 fanfiction #re8 alcina #re8 village #re8 daniela #re8 bela dimitrescu #re8 karl heisenberg #re8 donna

[ghost-n-butteredtoast]

Dimitrescu Books

Chapter 43 <<Link

1 Dimi, 2 Dimi, 3 Dimitrescu Girls

Explicit: 18+ - only suitable for adults

Artist: Unknown (Let me know if you know their username/site)

"...I protested at first, adamant on doing it alone. Yes, my father had assisted me financially, but I had made my bed, and I was determined to lie in it! And though it was a king size, it became rather small when three pairs of little legs and arms joined my six-foot-three frame.”

You erupted with laughter, both at her unexpected wit and the image of her being crammed between all these little girls. It was a sweet image, one you wished you could have been present for.

#alcina dimitrescu #house dimitrescu #fanfiction #read on ao3 #ao3fic #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #alcina x female reader #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu x oc #karl heisenberg #wlw #lgbtq romance #lgbtq fanfiction #cafe au #bookstore au #alcina dimitriscu x reader

[chayacat]

Remember, My Love. (18)

Fandom: Resident Evil 8 Village

Lycan Karl Heisenberg x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, language and Smut

***

* Captain! it's nice to hear you again! How is the mission on your side going? *

Chris breathed a sigh of relief as he heard Umber eyes' voice. They were still alive. Miranda still hadn't found them. And he hoped it would stay that way until the end. He had to admit that if Heisenberg had not been there, he would be in serious trouble. Now that the connection with his team is restored, he will be able to establish a real strategy. But for this to work, Heisenberg and Aria must be able to convince the other lords.  

“Let's say things have taken a turn... unsuspected. But we are moving forward. I'm going to need you. I want everyone to listen to what I'm going to tell you.”

Chris then told them everything that had happened since he had cut off communications with them. Aria, the meeting with the 4 Lords, Miranda's plans, her daughter Eva whom she wants to bring back to life... and finally the alliance with Heisenberg. And the plan Chris had in mind was very specific. There was only one step left before it could really be triggered. But it is still necessary that everyone agrees.

*Excuse me boss but... With everything they have done to you... Is it really a good idea to partner with Miranda's lieutenants? What proves to us that they are not going to betray us? Especially Heisenberg. * Said Canine.

* I agree with Canine, Captain... Heisenberg is the one who attacked you the most. There is no evidence that it will not start again once you have your back turned. * Said Lobo.  

“Hey! I heard everything... tell them to think twice before speaking...” growled Heisenberg.  

“Karl...please.” Said Aria worried.  

“If I was able to contact you again, it is thanks to Heisenberg who repaired my headset. It's not the crazy love between the two of us, but now we both have the same goal: To destroy Miranda. But only not for the same reasons.” said Chris.  

“And only for Aria... if it had been from me...” replied Karl before feeling Aria’s lips on his cheek.

*Okay...if you say so. You’re the boss after all. But are you sure about it? Even if we convince the other “Lords”, Miranda still powerful. And what about the mutamycete ?* ask Umber eyes.

“Miranda is our one and only priority. With Aria and Heisenberg... the mutamycete will be in good hands. Whatever happens, no one but us needs to know about it. And if you ask, it was destroyed with Miranda.”  

*You ask us to lie? *

“Exactly.”

*...Copy that, Alpha. We will wait for the signal. We’ll be ready. * Said Tundra.

Chris cut off the transmission, before turning to Karl and Aria who looked at him, surprised. He didn't expect that. Chris who is willing to lie for them. to lie to his superiors visibly. For them to survive. He didn't have to. He could very well destroy it too, to protect the world. And yet he had chosen to protect them by lying and entrusting them with the custody of the Mutamycete.

“Why are you doing this Redfield? You have no interest in leaving the Mutamycete alive. Nor us for that matter. You'd rather protect us than the whole world. You know that if someone who is infected ever leaves the village...” said Karl seriously.

“I'll teach you one thing Heisenberg. The world is already infected with Mutamycete derivatives. And all because of Umbrella. Then destroying yourself or leaving you alive won't change anything. And then as I said before, you are more Miranda's victims than accomplices. I've already seen too many people die... I would not let another innocent person be killed. Never again.” responds Chris.

“Chris...Thank you. Really.” said Aria.

“So...What’s the plan now?” asks Karl before drinking a sip of whisky.  

“If we want to destroy Miranda, we must turn everything she has "created" against her. We must be able to convince your "brother" and your "sisters" to help us. Because even with your pack and you, we are powerless against Miranda.” explain Chris.

“Convincing them is going to be complicated. Especially Alcina and Salvatore. They are in adoration before her. They really considered her like their mother. Donna will be easier though. We can start with it. But after that it risks becoming sporty for the other two.”

“You won't need to go see Donna... my dear Karl hahaha!” said suddenly a voice that everyone remembers. Angie suddenly appears, laughing as usual. “Hello there...I hope I don’t bother you in your little...tchat! Hahaha!!”

“Angie? What are you doing here?” asks Aria.

“Oh, basically I came to invite you to come and drink tea as before... but I heard your... conversation. Donna is already aware, don't forget that I am her eyes and ears outside the domain. She is already aware and believe that we will help you. I can't believe that Mother could be so horrible.”

“You're a real snooper. You can't help it huh...” growled Heisenberg.  

“Oh, Karl don’t tell me that it has not served you from time to time...”

“Rrrrr...”

“In any case, don't worry about Moreau. Me and Donna will take care of it... we know how to find the right ones to convince him... You should go see Alcina together. You will have more chances at two~”

“She’s right. And I think that if it's me in addition who speaks to her... she will accept. We have to try.” said Aria.

“Why you and not me?” Said Karl.  

“Because before being... your fiancée, I was her confidante, Karl. She and I have a very strong bond. You and I, after her daughters, are the two closest people to her. You can support me. But I have to be the one who talks to her about it.”

“...Fine. If you sure about it. ”  

“We will take care of Alcina. Angie de Moreau... in the meantime Chris has no case stay here. Urias can help him if needed.”

“Oh... I'm not sure he'll be happy to see me again... especially since I almost killed Heisenberg in front of him. And then I faced him a few times.” said Chris.

“If I explain the situation to him, he won't do anything to you. But does not provoke it either. Urias is a bit like a brother to me. He will not hesitate to attack if he feels that you are going to do it to me upside down.” Responds Karl.  

“as if it were my kind.”

Once the last formality of the plan was seen by the whole group, everyone took the road, except Chris who stayed at the factory. Angie left for the tank while Aria and Karl, on Arty's back, set off for Dimitrescu Castle. They have to succeed. They have no choice. If they want Chris' plan to succeed, they have to convince everyone else. And especially Alcina. She is the second strongest Lord after Karl... He must prevent Miranda from putting her on her side.

And all without Miranda realizing it. Because if she ever learns all this, her revenge and anger will be precedent. And it will not look at whether it is innocent or guilty. Aria felt a hand tighten around her waist, landing on her stomach which made her laugh slightly. She knew it was Karl. Although she used to cling to Arty properly, he couldn't help but provide extra security.  She couldn't dream better in a sense. And she certainly didn't want him to change. He is the man she will love to the end.

“If you keep looking at me like this... I could no longer control myself, you know that?” he said with a smirk.

“i know~ But how to resist a man as seductive as you... you have to be crazy for that.” Aria responds, laughing.

“That’s what I am. And yet I couldn't resist your angel face...”

“If our children are like you... I don't have to be afraid; they will know how to defend themselves...”

“And if they're like you... they will be as beautiful as their mother... also benevolent.”

“... You think Chris' plan... will work?” Replied the young woman, worried.  

“We have no choice. We have to succeed. We can't let Miranda do that. I lost you once. This is already one too many times. And if I have to become a monster to protect you... then I would. And then we have our pack. Our family.”

“I'm scared you know... If I really was infected by the mutamycete... I don't know how my body will react.”

“Don’t worry, I'll be there with you.”

They arrived at Dimitrescu’s castle and let Arty rest in the shelter under which was once a small stable. They knocked on the door of the huge castle and it was Daniela who opened it to them. She was all excited but also surprised to see them and told our two lovebirds where Alcina was. So, they entered and walked to the opera room. They could hear Alcina playing piano from the courtyard, and it could be said that she had a gift for music. It's rare that someone manages to hear her play, other than her daughters.

When they knocked on the door, the music stopped and Alcina allowed them to enter. She was, like her daughters, both surprised but happy to see them. She invited them to sit down, closed the piano, and joined them on the chair facing them.

“I didn't expect to see you... if I had known, I would have prepared a better welcome. But it feels good to see you together again...” said Alcina.

“I didn't know you played the piano so well. At least I didn't remember it. I have to believe that all my memory has not completely returned.” responds Aria, smiling.  

“I prefer to play alone. Escape for a moment. It makes me forget that... I am a chatelaine, who kills people for food.”

“I should do the same then. Well in fact I risk breaking your ears. We will avoid it.” said Karl, chuckling.  

“You should sing instead... you have a very nice voice; I remember every time you started singing in the shower and...” starts Aria.  

“Buttercup! the rest of this anecdote is in the very private domain of my life.” replied Karl, embarrassed.

“Oh... I would like to hear that one day. But, enough talk. I guess you haven't come all that way just to discuss that, given the current circumstances.” Said Alcina with a sad smile.  

Aria looked at Karl and with a nod of the head, the young woman began to tell her the whole story. Alcina listened patiently, quietly, but the more Aria advanced in her story, the more they could see in the eyes of the chatelaine emotions of sadness, incomprehension, a little anger, but above all worry. And how could we blame her? When we hear things about her "Mother" who just uses people as pawns, we always look internally for loopholes to exonerate her. And it was when Aria explained that Miranda wanted to use her to bring her daughter Eva back to life, that Alcina could feel like a stab in the heart.

“No... It can’t be...Mother...”

***

(What hell this heat! it's hard to work and write when it's so hot! But it's okay I survive... For now! We are gradually getting closer to the end, I can't wait to get started on Road 96, I have a lot of ideas in mind and it continues to come! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Have a great week everyone! See ya!)  

#Chris Redfield #Re8 #karl x female reader #re8 village #re8 fanfiction #Lycan Karl Heisenberg #Karl Heisenberg

[ilovedonnabeneviento]

I don't have any vids today so here's this thing 🥲

#re8 lords #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil alcina #alcina x female reader #alcina x reader #re8 alcina #alcina x y/n #lady dimitrescu fanart #lady dimitrescu x y/n #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #donna beneviento x female reader #donna beneviento and angie #donna beneviento #re8 donna #donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento x y/n #lady donna beneviento #lady beneviento #karl heisenberg fanart #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg #resident evil heisenberg #lord heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #salvatore moreau

[geminiwritten]

hot dream ; billy butcher

fandom: the boys

pairing: billy x reader

summary: you fall asleep in butcher’s sweater and have a rather steamy dream, not realising that everyone heard you moaning butcher’s name in your sleep

notes: this is so bad, and it makes me so sad because i was so excited to write it, but work has been so blegh that i just feel like i failed??? i don’t know, it’s definitely not my best writing, but it’s something! hope y’all can still enjoy!

warnings: swearing, google-translated french, some very incorrect chemistry, and a tiny bit of smut (i’m working myself up to actually writing it, i promise!)

^ the sweater

word count: 4691

“It’s fucking cold in here,” you say, rubbing your arms as you step into the living room.

Frenchie and Kimiko are curled up under a blanket on the couch, and Butcher is lounging on the single seat sofa with his feet propped on top of the coffee table. You know MM is on his way back from Monique’s house with spare clothes and comforters, but you also know how caught up he can get when he spends time with Janine.

“You do not have a jumper?” Frenchie asks.

You shake your head, “The last sweatshirt I had was burnt to a crisp two weeks ago.”

New York City is quickly falling into winter, the air turning crisp and heavy clouds rolling overhead as news channels warn about impending snow within the week.

Kimiko looks up at you and wriggles her arms out of the blanket to sign an apology, gesturing to the jumper she wears as the only one she has.

Butcher sighs and pushes himself off the sofa, “I’ve got somethin’.”

The tiny butterflies in your stomach flitter to life, bouncing around excitedly at the thought of wearing Butcher’s clothing. You move a hand from your arm to your stomach and curse the stupid giddiness that this man aroused within you. It’s ridiculous, really, and just a stupid crush, but he never fails to elicit some sort of irritating physical reaction within your body every time he speaks.

He disappears into the main bedroom for a moment before remerging with a black garment in hand. “Here,” he says, handing it to you, “don’t get it burnt though, it’s my favourite.”

You give him a cheeky smile, “I make no promises.”

Your fingers brush his as you take the sweater from his hand, and his eyes capture yours in a stare you cannot break. His lip quirks into that gorgeous smirk you’ve come to enjoy so much, sending those stupid butterflies into a frenzy before he turns back toward the sofa.

You release a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding and with numb fingers, find the bottom of the sweatshirt before pulling it over your head. His scent hits you like a truck, rushing through your nose and burning all the way to your lungs. Your chest squeezes around your erratic heart, your ribs aching as they struggle to contain the throbbing muscle. It feels like you’ve been punched in the sternum, and your limbs feel like jelly wrapped in the soft material saturated by his scent.

You know this sweater almost too well, having admired him in it countless times. It’s a little too big on you, but on him, it’s perfect. The thick material hugs his shoulders and fits his torso in the most delicious way. It’s ridiculous that he can make something as plain as this sweater look downright sinful.

“Better?” Butcher asks, his eyes sparkling with a mischief that makes you wonder what he knows.

You nod, “Much.”

Kimiko shuffles over on the couch so that you can squeeze between her and the arm, the side closest to Butcher. You try to focus on the lame action film playing on the television, but the smell of the jumper clouds your mind, and you can feel Butcher’s gaze wandering over to you every few seconds. You want to say something, but every string of words that come to mind are laced with innuendo and teasing, and although you’re very fond of flirting with this man, you’re not sure you can handle it in your current state.

The sun is well below the horizon by the time MM arrives back, his arms full of blankets and second-hand clothing. Kimiko takes two jumpers and a blanket before seeing herself off to bed, and MM does the same shortly after. Frenchie throws another blanket over himself and invites you to share his warmth while Butcher remains on the single sofa with nothing but his trench coat. After almost three movies, your eyelids begin to droop, and you let your head fall onto Frenchie’s shoulder as sleep slowly consumes you.

You startle awake, your mind swirling with images of Butcher. You can still see him hovering over you, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, and his wicked grin as he settles between your thighs. Heat pulses between your legs at the fading memory, and your skin feels like it’s on fire, phantom touches lingering in the shape of Butcher’s hands on your hips, your breasts, your throat.

You have to blink a few times before the living room comes into focus, bright light flooding the space through the drawn curtains as dust mites float through the air. The blankets covering you suddenly feel like they weigh a tonne, and you have to throw them off your sweaty body before you pass out.

“Good morning, mon petit rayon de soleil,” Frenchie greets you, sitting in the sofa where you last consciously saw Butcher.

“Hey,” you mumble as you sit up.

His grin is wide and cheeky, “Did you have a good sleep?”

“It was okay,” you reply, rubbing your neck, “as good as it gets on this old couch.”

“I did not have the heart to wake you,” he says, “you looked so peaceful and were… humming so contently.”

You frown sceptically, “Okay…”

MM is in the kitchen, standing at the stove with a goofy smile as he watches the eggs in the pan cook.

“What time is it?”

“Almost ten,” Frenchie responds.

“What?” you demand, “You let me sleep for that long? Don’t we have things to do today?”

MM chuckles, “We didn’t want to wake you, as Frenchie said, you were so content.”

Spikes of panic begin prickling your skin and your eyes dart from Frenchie to MM, searching their impish faces for any sign of what could be making them so smug.

“Where’s Butcher?”

“Monsieur Charcutier had to excuse himself,” Frenchie says, “but he is awake.”

MM serves the eggs onto two plates and carries them over to the table where Kimiko is sat. She grins at him before digging in to her breakfast, and your own stomach begins to rumble.

“I suppose I will get my own,” Frenchie sighs, pushing himself off the sofa and walking toward the kitchen.

“I’ll have some too,” you call after him, “thanks, Frenchie.”

He smirks at you with the carton of eggs in hand, “Anything for you, mon amour. How do you like your eggs?”

“Hard boiled,” MM replies before you can, snickering as he takes a bite of toast.

Frenchie giggles too, and he quickly turns toward the stove to avoid your dubious stare.

“What the fuck are you two on this morning?”

They don’t respond as their laughter continues to bubble. Frenchie waves a hand dismissively, still refusing to look at you, before placing a pot and a pan on top of the stove.

“I prefer fried,” you mutter, still frowning.

He nods and moves the pot back into the cupboard just as the doors to the main bedroom creak open. Butcher steps out in faded jeans and yet another hideous Hawaiian shirt with only three of the lower buttons fastened. His hair is a complete mess and his cheeks flushed red; he looks as if he’d just sprinted several blocks.

“You’re awake,” he states.

You nod, “So are you.”

He chuckles, “Been awake for a couple’a hours, love.”

MM is struggling with his breakfast, his laughter refusing to subside though he does his best to quell it, his whole face turning red. Frenchie has turned his back to you completely now, but you can still see his shoulders shaking as he giggles into his hand.

“Did I miss something?” you ask Butcher as he falls into the single sofa.

His smirk just as devilish as Frenchie’s, “Nothin’ at all, in fact, I think it’s me who missed somethin’.”

“Okay,” you sigh, “you’re all being weird, and I’m incredibly sweaty, so I’m going to shower.”

“Breakfast will be ready for you when you return, mon amour,” Frenchie says, “take your time cleaning your- uh, humidité.”

Butcher chuckles as another wave of mirth hits MM, and he begins to choke on his mouthful of food. You roll your eyes before turning on your heel and stomping toward the bathroom, leaving them to their stupidity.

The cold air nips at your bare skin as you strip in the bathroom, carefully laying Butcher’s sweater on the vanity before stepping under the warm shower spray. You take your time washing your hair and scrubbing your body, hazy flashes of hot touches and wet kisses invading your mind as you close your eyes and let the water soak your skin. By the time you shut the shower off, you’re thoroughly clean and a little dizzy with desire. You dry off before wrapping the towel around your body and gathering your clothes to dash across the hall toward your bedroom.

You can’t help glancing in the direction of the living room when you step out, your eyes locking with Butcher’s dark gaze for the split second it takes you to reach your room. Your pulse is thrumming at a ridiculous pace as you unwrap the towel and turn toward your dresser. You slip on a fresh pair of panties and jeans, and turn to the sweater you’d tossed on your bed. Your stomach grumbles impatiently while you procrastinate, and you curse quietly to yourself before slipping the sweater over your head without anything underneath.

The living room wreaks of burnt toast when you remerge from your bedroom, and Frenchie is swearing at the toaster in such fast French, you can’t possibly try to understand it.

“Did you ruin my breakfast?” you ask, walking past Butcher and leaning your hip on the kitchen bench.

“I did not ruin anything,” Frenchie says with a frown, “this good for nothing piece of shit machine did.”

You can feel a pair of eyes burning into the back of your head and you know it’s Butcher, but you refuse to turn around, instead joining Frenchie in the kitchen to take over the toaster. After a few minutes of patience, the toast pops perfectly grilled and you place two pieces on each of your plates before Frenchie tops it with eggs.

“So,” MM says when you and Frenchie join him at the table, “what’s today’s plan?”

“We need to go back to the old safe house,” Frenchie replies.

“The basement,” you note between bites of toast.

He nods, “We need to gather anything we left behind that might be useful. I am running out of materials and I know we left a stash of ammunition there.”

“Who’s to say it isn’t already gone?” MM queries.

Frenchie shrugs, “We do not know, but it is worth a try.”

You want to point out that it isn’t really necessary for all of you to go, but you know that will only end in an argument, so you focus on finishing your breakfast. Once you’re all done, MM collects the empty plates and begins washing up while the rest of you go to gather your things.

You pack a small crossbody bag with your phone and keys before tucking a sheathed dagger into the back of your jeans, just in case. When you step back into the living room, Frenchie and MM are waiting by the door, whispering and giggling about something until they see you approach. You want to demand they let you in on whatever stupid joke you’d missed out on this morning, but Butcher’s heavy footsteps capture your attention before you can speak.

“Righ’ then, lads,” he says, tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat, “let’s get on with it.”

Your gaze lingers on his lips as he speaks before trailing down his neck and bare chest, finding a mere two more buttons fastened than before. Heat rises to your cheeks, creeping all the way up to the tips of your ears as your mouth begins to water and another blurry image of Butcher fills your mind. You see him on his knees before you, looking up with hungry eyes and parted lips, murmuring something filthy that doesn’t quite reach your ears.

You gasp, blinking rapidly to return to reality and finding three curious faces staring back at you.

“Are you okay?” Frenchie asks.

You nod, “I’m good, let’s go.”

You step between him and MM and walk out the door first, turning down the hall without bothering to wait. They’re giggling again by the time they catch up to you in the lobby, and even Butcher is wearing an amused smirk. He winks as he walks past you, pulling his car keys from his pocket before holding the front door open for the rest of you. Unlike every other time you’ve all been walking toward the car, no one calls shot gun. Frenchie simply opens the back door for Kimiko to slide in before he does, and MM follows without a single complaint.

You look at Butcher, “What the fuck?”

He shrugs, but his smirk is still saturated with amusement and the glint in his eyes tells you that this has something to do with whatever they were all being so smug about.

“You’re all pissing me off today,” you sigh, before walking around the car to the passenger’s side.

You’re not upset about getting the front seat, nor are you annoyed that you get to sit beside Butcher and practically drool over him while he has to pay attention to the road. You are, however, beginning to panic about what it is that they’re not telling you.

The drive isn’t long, and you spend most of it watching Butcher’s hands on the wheel, fantasising about how they would feel caressing every inch of your skin. It almost feels like a memory as you picture his fingers digging into your hips or wrapped gently around your throat, and you can feel your body growing hot within the thick material of his sweater. You practically fall out of the car when it finally stops, gasping for cool air and willing your mind to focus on the task at hand.

Frenchie leads the way down a narrow alley and pushes open the familiar metal door before the rest of you follow him into the dark, damp corridor of what used to be your hide out. You all stay silent for a few minutes, creeping around and checking for any unusual activity or signs that the place might be bugged or trapped. It’s definitely been ransacked, but there are thin films of dust blanketing almost every surface which indicates that whoever was looking in here had given up a long time ago.

“Okay,” Frenchie speaks up once deciding that you’re safe, “let’s see what we’ve got left.”

You split up and wander around the huge, open basement. There are two curtain dividers sectioning the space into what you used as ‘bedrooms’, and a single chipped, wooden door leading to the tiny bathroom at the very back. MM goes in there first, rummaging around for half a minute before declaring it empty.

“Is there anything in particular that we’re looking for?” you ask, turning to Frenchie, “Because there’s a lot of crap in here, and as much as I’d love for you all to rummage through my old underwear drawer, maybe we should-”

Before you can finish your sentence, Frenchie and Butcher take off, abandoning the shelves they were searching and knocking one of the curtain dividers over as they scramble toward the old dresser you used to use.

“Hey!” you shout, your eyes growing wide as you hurry after them.

They’re giggling like maniacs as they wrench the drawers open one by one, tossing out the few items of clothing that still remained in there before realising that there was, in fact, no underwear left behind.

“I was joking,” you say, “fucking pervs.”

Frenchie chuckles, “Can you blame us, mon amour?”

“Yes!”

MM is snickering in the small kitchenette as he picks through the lower cupboards one by one. As much as you want to enjoy the rare light-heartedness within the group right now, you can’t stop wondering why the hell they were all in such a giddy mood. Are they all high?

“Alrigh’ you lot,” Butcher says, running a hand through his dishevelled hair as his laughter subsides, “stop messin’ about, we’ve got a job to do.”

You roll your eyes and trudge toward where MM is, starting on the top cupboards of the small kitchen while they begin opening old crates and suitcases. Frenchie starts a pile by the stairs, stacking up anything he finds that might be useful or too valuable to abandon. There isn’t much, but there are still a couple of cases of ammunition and packets of powders that you know are combustible in some way.

“Wait!” Frenchie shouts suddenly, crouching beside an electrical socket. “Be careful. Somebody has shorted the wiring, intentionally or not, I do not know, but do not touch the outlets or anything still plugged in.”

You slowly retract your hand from beside the rusty old microwave. “What will happen?”

“You will probably be electrocuted.”

“Good to know,” Butcher sighs.

You all return to your ransacking with cautious hands and watchful eyes, skirting around anything electrical or made of metal. When you approach the refrigerator, you can hear a soft, crackling hum, and MM looks at you with wide eyes. It was never a reliable machine, but now it is most definitely a death trap.

You continue your search through the cupboards, knocking half-full packets of rice and flour off the shelves as you stretch up onto your toes to see inside. This job is probably better suited to someone with more of a height advantage, but you’ve always been stubborn, so you don’t bother asking for help.

The cupboard above the sink, adjacent to the stove – you always thought it was stupid to put the sink right beside the stove – reveals a cluster of cleaning products. You reach as far as you can, straining your arms to reach the bottles on the top shelf and groaning at the tension in your body.

Behind you, MM mimics the noise, only louder, “Ungh.”

You hear Frenchie snicker, “No, no, it was more like, mmmh.”

Your fingertips scrape the bottle closest to the front of the cupboard and you huff in frustration.

“Nngh,” MM groans again.

“Ahhh,” Frenchie moans loudly, before dissolving into another fit of giggles.

Determined to ignore them, you try to stretch up even further. Your back aches but your fingers find the bottle once again, scratching at it in an attempt to get it to move.

MM sighs seductively, “Ohh, yeah.”

“Mmm, Butcher,” Frenchie gasps.

Your stomach drops and you lose your balance, stumbling as you whirl around to face them. “What the fuck?”

Frenchie giggles as he meets your stare, “Oops.”

The bottle from the top shelf of the cupboard falls forward and knocks your shoulder, popping the cap off. The liquid inside spills all over your chest just as realisation hits you.

“That’s what all this has been about?!” you exclaim, “you heard me having a fucking sex dream and instead of waking me up, you listened?”

MM can’t stop laughing, with one hand holding his stomach while the other supports his body against the old dining room table. You’ve never seen this man so flustered, and if you weren’t so embarrassed, you might have enjoyed seeing him so overwhelmed with laughter.

Frenchie, however, has gone completely pale, stepping forward with a petrified expression. “Y/N, listen-”

“No,” you snap, “I won’t listen! You are such a-”

“Y/N!” he shouts, “do not move.”

The room falls silent and panic ripples through your body.

“Please, mon amour, stay still,” he pleads as he hurries toward you.

He steps carefully around the puddles on the floor before reaching down to pick up the now empty bottle. He studies the label for less than a second before looking back at you with panicked eyes.

“You need to take off your jumper, now.”

You frown, “What? Why?”

“This is isopropyl alcohol,” he says, “it is highly flammable. If anything in this place so much as sparks, it will catch fire and if the vapours ignite, this whole building could explode.”

“Fuck,” you mutter, looking down at the soaked front of Butcher’s sweater.

Frenchie turns to MM, “Get something, get a bag, and get ready to go.”

You remain still as your pulse quickens, “Frenchie.”

“Butcher,” he says, “you and Kimiko start taking things up the stairs, do not come over here.”

Butcher frowns, “Like hell I’m leavin’ her.”

“Frenchie,” you repeat.

“I will get her out, okay? Just take what we’ve got and let’s get out.”

“I don’t give a fuck about this crap,” Butcher argues, “I care about her, and I’m not leavin’ ‘til I know she’s safe.”

“Frenchie!” you exclaim, “I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

The room falls quiet once again, and you can feel blood rushing to your cheeks as each of them turn to you with curious eyes.

“Nothin’?” Butcher asks, fighting the smirk tugging at his lips.

“Nothing,” you reply.

Despite the situation, Frenchie is the first to snicker.

“Come ‘ere,” Butcher says, “slowly.”

You step carefully out of the kitchen, avoiding every surface as your boots squelch against the wet floor. Once you’re in front of him, he shrugs off his coat and gestures for you to remove the sweater. Your heart pounds as you turn your back to him, and he holds his jacket up to shield you, though not quite high enough to block his own view. You hold your breath and pull the sweater up, squeezing your eyes shut as it slips over your head. You can feel his breath on your back as soon as it’s bare, and a whole different kind of heat rushes through you.

He drops his coat around your shoulders and you quickly hug it against your chest. His scent envelops you, even more so than it had with the sweater, and your nerves begin to ease almost immediately.

“Give it to me,” Frenchie says, holding a plastic bag open toward you.

You drop the sweater in and he ties it off.

“Let’s go.”

MM, Kimiko, and Butcher grab what they can before you all ascend the stairs. You hurry through the corridor and out into the alley, not stopping until you’re all safe inside the car.

“Did you get any on your pants, mon amour?” Frenchie asks.

You push the bottom of Butcher’s jacket off your legs to inspect. “Only a little.”

“It will not damage the clothing, but we should wash everything right away.”

You nod before glancing toward Butcher. His face is a mixture of concern and mischief, his eyes struggling to watch the road instead of you, sitting beside him and wrapped in his favourite coat.

“Should we tell someone about that situation back there?” MM pipes up.

“I will call somebody to clean it up,” Frenchie replies.

It isn’t long before you’re all quietly climbing out of the car and carrying your finds up to the apartment. Everyone kicks their shoes off at the door, per Frenchie’s instructions, and begins sorting through the bags and boxes of old materials and equipment.

Frenchie turns to you, “Give me your jeans.”

“Right now?”

He nods and you sigh, deciding not to argue. You turn away from them and open the coat, quickly unbuttoning your jeans and slipping them off before wrapping yourself back up. When you turn back around, he’s adorning that same silly grin that he’d been wearing all morning.

“Is this how it started in your dream?”

You roll your eyes and shove your jeans into his outstretched hand. “Just because you kind of saved my life, doesn’t mean I’m not still annoyed at you.”

He giggles as he takes your clothes and walks down the hall to the laundry.

“In his defence,” Butcher smirks, “I told ‘em not to wake you.”

“You what?”

He steps toward you and shrugs, “I liked hearin’ those pretty little noises you were makin’.”

The butterflies in your stomach burst to life and your pulse begins to race.

He leans forward as he whispers, “Liked it a little too much.”

You suddenly remember what Frenchie had said this morning when you asked where Butcher was: ‘Monsieur Charcutier had to excuse himself’.

“Now,” Butcher clears his throat, “you gon’a give me my coat back before you spill somethin’ else on it?”

You raise your brows, “You want it back right now? Right here?”

He glances over his shoulder toward MM and Kimiko before turning back to you, “Maybe not righ’ here.”

You step around him and walk through the kitchen toward the main bedroom, avoiding MM’s eyes as you pass the dining room table. You don’t bother closing the doors behind you, because sure enough, a pair of heavy footsteps follow closely behind. The door clicks shut and you turn around to look at Butcher. You let your eyes wander over his body, your mouth watering as you follow the collar of his shirt down his bare chest where the top buttons lay open.

“I’m not gon’a lie,” he says, his hungry gaze pinning you to the floor, “as much as I fuckin’ loved hearin’ you whisper my name… I can’t wait to make you scream it.”

His words punch you in the chest, knocking all the air from your legs as heat pools between your legs.

“Now, love,” he steps forward, “can I ‘ave my coat back?”

Your fingers tremble as you grip the lapels of the jacket, moving your shoulders so the material falls off before you open it up and let it drop to the floor. He draws one sharp breath, his eyes growing wide as they move up and down your body, devouring every inch of it as if he’s never seen anything so perfect.

He closes the distance between you and wraps his hands around your waist, fingertips digging into the flesh of your back with bruising pressure.

“D’you know how hard I came to the thought of you this morning?” he murmurs.

You can’t do anything but stare back at him, your lips aching to taste him, all of him.

“So fuckin’ hard,” he whispers before capturing your mouth with his.

You moan as you melt against him, your arms wrapping around his neck and your fingers tangling through his hair as he claims your mouth. His hands squeeze your waist and pull you closer, pressing your naked body against him. The friction of his shirt against your nipples makes you gasp, and he takes advantage of your open mouth, sliding his tongue past your lips.

“Can’t fuckin’ imagine,” he mumbles against your mouth, “how hard I’m gon’a come with you on my cock.”

The ball of tension throbbing below your stomach explodes, and you use all of your strength to push him back toward the bed. He chuckles as he falls back, his hand catching your wrist to pull you down on top of him.

“Tell me ‘bout your dream, love,” he says as you hover over him, “where was I?”

You plant an open-mouthed kiss on his collarbone before biting down and making him groan.

“You were everywhere,” you whisper against his skin, “marking me, claiming me.”

He moans again as you grind your hips down, the friction of his jeans sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.

“I don’t fuckin’ need to claim you,” he growls, his hands holding your hips as he thrusts up, “you’re already mine.”

He lifts you up enough to flip you onto your back, his body moving with yours and settling between your legs as he hovers over you. He dips down, his lips finding your neck and sucking on the sensitive skin before biting down hard. You moan loudly, and quickly smack a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise.

“I don’t think so, love,” he murmurs, taking your hand and pinning it to the bed, “I said, I wan’a hear you fuckin’ scream.”

END.

#billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #butcher x reader #karl urban #the boys #homelander #hughie campbell #frenchie #mm #mothers milk #the female #kimiko #karl urban x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #one shot #oneshot

[donnas-dollface]

Alcina: I've been deeply in love with Y/n and we’ve been dating for a couple months. now, we even have pet names.

Heisenberg, quizzled: And you're telling me this why?

Alcina: because no one will believe you and the shit that comes out your mouth.

#incorrect resident evil village quotes #incorrect re8 quotes #incorrect resident evil quotes #incorrect resident evil 8 quotes #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil 8 x reader #alcina x female reader #re8 alcina #countess alcina #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #alcina dimitriscu x reader #alcina x y/n #resident evil alcina #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #lady alcina #lady dimitrescu #karl heisenberg resident evil village #karl heisenberg

[anundyingfidelity]

so just in case dumblr decides to block my content from the tags, i'm here promoting this thirsty, smutty one shot.

notice i'm very obsessed with butcher and soldier boy, so you can read the dirtiest fic i've ever written here: blood, sweat & tears.

here you go my main masterlist too just in case lol

that's all, thank u!

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy smut #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x female reader #billy butcher smut #the boys fanfiction #the boys amazon #the boys tv #the boys series #jensen ackles #karl urban #soldier boy x reader x billy butcher #billy butcher x reader x soldier boy