it can be found here, but i myself had a hard time getting to it on mobile (ty tumblr!) so here it is in post form as well!
<b>FANDOMS:</b> The Witcher, Resident Evil 8, IT (mostly 2017/2019 filmverse but familiar with the other canon)
PAIRINGS: [Witcher] Geralt/Jaskier, Jaskier/Other Witcher[s], Jaskier/Other[s], Jaskier/Valdo Marx | [RE8] Heisenberg/Ethan, Ethan/Other[s] | [IT] Richie/Eddie, Eddie/Other[s]
NAH: Extreme gore, scat, weight gain, underage, het, top Jaskier/Ethan/Eddie [lol], trans Jaskier/Ethan/Eddie [or any trans characters in extreme/dangerous conditions], ADBL/age regression
COOL: Blood, double penetration in one hole, bondage, CBT, chastity, praise, asphyxiation, somnophilia, cannibalism
I really miss Fandom tho mostly bc of the creative drive it allowed me. and the people I met. Like having friends to talk abt kinky shit with rly is amazing and I miss that.
Hi is this account still active? I love the fic you uploaded. Have you ever considered uploading it to Ao3? Thank you for your time.
hello! I am semi active which means i come and go but mostly am gone. first of all, thank you! i always appreciate kind comments. one of my goals for this year is to take the time to clean up the writing on here and post it to ao3. I will definitely post the link when that happens (:
working slowly on more fill(s) for wintersberg. i have maybe 3 or 4 fills that are all pretty similar so they are getting rolled into one midlength project. kinda want to try to do some not-fic style posting tho also so
thanks for the set up with chris and karl being domesticated or the soft version was never gonna happen lmao (does that mean you thought of an unhinged ver too (shh i did too and that's where the varcolacs and dubcn came from in the other ask)? 👀👀👀 - not requesting you write it! you already did almost 6k words!!! lots more than I thought it'd be thank you for the amount of words!! )
there was biting! hngh yessss! I didn't add it bc I thought it was already a lot but hhhhHHHHHHHHHH it completed the picture
Ethan you silly goose, that's Rose's sister not your old age 👀 (mold infecteds can't age unless they're born w it anyways)
The little clip of the girl eating the tray of peas x infinity is me with your fic - just devouring I'm a puddle of happy goo. Thank you thank you thank you (very sorry if you get 3 or 4 of these - tumblr has a habit of eating Asks that I try to send)
i am so glad you enjoyed it. comments really make my day and tbh ive been feeling pretty down about my writing lately, so this was a really wonderful reception. i did end up writing some of the dark avenue version (i got a few other prompts that i ended up incorporating into it) so you may see that yet
anyway, thank you again, both for the prompt and the kind comment.
Hello! would it be ok to ask for knotting + breeding + impregnation + dacry for Wintersberg? Set post RE8, Ethan+Karl survive and get away from village with Rose. Karl always wanted a big family and Ethan doesn't want Rose to be an only child, plus the resulting kid will be as special moldy as her. With Ethan being the pregnant one (bc he's all moldy -making the necessary parts wouldn't be that difficult if the mold can make a giant dragon out of a woman). If I'm being too greedy with the amount of kinks and restrictive with setting, then I ask just for the impregnation kink in any setting you want, please!
hello anon! thank you for playing! here’s one of two fills i was pondering for this prompt. this is the softer version, set in a nebulous alternative "some people live, other people die" universe wherein heisenberg has already been domesticated, lol. still i spent more time than i should have establishing a relationship for the purpose of the filth. i am so rusty (and wrote a decent chunk during a migraine whoops) so i hope it isn't incomprehensible. enjoy.
rating: explicit
word count: 5.3k
warnings: sadism, masochism, breeding kink, dacryphilia, face fucking, anal sex, implied mpreg, anal fingering, light(?) feminization, some mild cbt, and a smattering of other things that matter less
pairing: karl heisenberg/ethan winters
"We'll do what we can to keep you off the BSAA's radar."
Chris slid a thin stack of folders across the table. Old floorboards creaking when he shifted his weight in the rough-hewn slat back chair. Ethan flipped through them, taking note of their contents. Beside him, Karl sat staring at Chris, sunglasses and hat on even in the dim light, face dour and chewing on the foot of an unlit cigar. He held Rose drooling and propped on his shoulder, her small fists wrapped in Karl's beard and hair.
Fabricated identifications, passports, birth certificates, all printed, signed and embossed. An envelope of bank slips for an account into which a modest monthly stipend would be deposited. Paperwork for the small house, the three acres of land it sat on. A decades' worth of tax forms. A pamphlet for talk therapy.
"You won't be safe. I won't - can't - guarantee that. But you will be safe enough."
Ethan stood and Chris stood with him. They shook hands until the military stiffness with which Chris held himself splintered, and Ethan found himself pulled close and caught in an embrace. The thick wool jacket Chris wore smelled like pine and cigarettes and gunpowder and lead. Ethan could feel with his cheek the plate carrier concealed beneath the fabric. Equally as heavy, Karl's eyes sharp at his back.
"Thank you, Chris. For all you've done."
"Take care, Ethan."
"You can't trust these pricks," Karl said once Chris had gone and the growl of half a dozen car engines had faded into the mountains.
"We don't have a choice."
"Of course we do. Get him and his wolves back in here. I'll slaughter them while you pack up the car."
"Don't say that. They won't think you're joking."
Rose sneezed, wriggling like a worm, and Karl rocked her and cooed her name until she settled. Her hair was growing. Now little wisps fell long enough to frame her face in a halo, and Karl had tied some back with a little pink slip of a bow.
"You don't have to like it," Ethan sighed, when the silence in the kitchen had grown too thunderous. The documentation of their rebirths stacked between them, lit yellow by the kitchen's single halogen bulb. Karl stared at the papers and held Rose against his heart.
"As far as I'm concerned, this is just another leash."
---
Ethan had already had the chance to become accustomed to this way of living. The house he had shared with Mia had been handpicked by whatever BSAA paper-pusher had been in charge of his case file; they'd not even had a say in the color of the carpeting. So long as Rose was warm with mashed peas to fill her belly, there was little he felt worth complaint. This still was true. Yet much had changed and it was in other ways he now struggled to adapt.
In early dawn and on the cusp of waking he often forgot that Mia was dead. Once the memory returned he would weep and become unfit for company for hours. They were higher in the mountains now than he had been; he was plagued by increasingly frequent headaches. Most troublesome: he had trouble acclimating to a man with heavy footfalls walking the halls of his home. Knowing it was Karl but being unable to convince his heart rate or his pulse that there was no danger lurking, no teeth waiting to snap at his neck. Only a man tasked with the uncertainty of freedom - who often in the hours of the day found himself doing nothing and who had not yet learned how to cope.
The house was small. They crashed against one another often, violently, passionately. Fights first, and then stalemates, and finally fucking. This was what they both understood, and after everything that had transpired in the village, what made sense.
---
Ethan woke to a strange room cramped and black with shadow. His armpits and the sheets beneath him swampy, stinking of sweat; his pulse thrumming and his breathing quick and he knew with the conviction of all prey that something lay in wait in that blackness with hunger and with teeth. For 120 seconds, he counted the ticking of the wall clock and waited to die. When death did not take him he gasped and wept into his hands until the tightness in his chest began to ease.
"Karl," he said, when he could speak, "I think I had a nightmare. Karl."
But where Karl slept was empty.
Ethan, shaking, drenched, rolled from the bed. He crept towards the little bassinet where Rose sometimes still slept and found it also empty, the mattress cool to the touch. A horror cold like lakewater flooded him, drowned him in panic. He tore the blankets aside, but she was gone. His Rose. He put his hand to his mouth and bent to retch, his eyes flowing again with tears. Where was she? Where was she? He lurched for the doorway, stumbling and blind in the dark.
"Shh, little darling, quiet or you'll wake your daddy."
"Karl?"
Karl looked up from Rose where she lay cradled in his arms. He stood with her in the living room, the both of them cast in the warm flicker of oil lantern light, their hair and their skin red and gold. Karl was wearing only the ill-fitting sleep trousers they had scavenged from the bedroom closet; Rose he had bundled tight in her favorite blanket. Her body lax, dreaming. When Ethan had spoken, Karl had had his nose pressed into the thin wisps of hair on her head.
"She smells like you."
"You're alright. You're both right here."
"Neither of us could get to sleep so I figured we'd take a walk." Karl frowned, seemed to notice the state of Ethan; the cold sweat pouring out of him and the tremors shaking through him and the fat wet tears streaked across his cheeks. "Are you alright?"
"Fine, fine. Just a nightmare, that's all."
He didn't look convinced. But Rose huffed and his attention was taken. He adjusted his hold on her little body, dwarfing her in the circle of his arms.
There was no fighting the thought. They fit too right together. This was what Karl would look like, as a father, if he had ever been given the chance.
---
"Did you," Ethan began but soon quit, the question heavier than he'd expected. His tongue was not up to the task.
"Did I? What?"
Karl who tinkered with a little metal toy for Rose did not even break to glance at him. He unscrewed a screw with his hand and it floated from his fingers and idled by his head. Ethan sat with the discomfort of the question coiled inside him. How to ask such a thing?
"Ethan, spit it out."
"Did you ever want a child?"
Karl paused. The screw rotated round and round, and his teeth and the corners of his mouth moved like he would have liked to be smoking. Ethan knew very little of Karl's life before Mother Miranda's influence. Only what little he'd been told and what little more could be built through conjecture. A factory inherited meant a father to bequeath it. Ethan didn't know much of inheritance, but he did know well enough about the expectations of fathers.
"What I wanted." Karl scoffed and shook his head. "Who cares what I wanted? Shit. A child? Who knows?"
"My dad wanted me to marry young. Settle down."
"And look where that got you. I think the most my father expected out of me was to knock a girl up out of wedlock and ruin the family business. Joke's on him, of course. The world ended for us before I could manage either." He rubbed the bridge of his nose and peered at Ethan past the rim of his glasses. "Why? What brought this up?"
"You're good with Rose. A natural. I just - it was a thought I had. That's all."
The toy and its screws and parts spun back into place, resolving into a recognizable shape. It was a monkey made of brass and tin, with arms that wound on a dial, and polished black nail heads for eyes. Ethan couldn't recall having bought it. Nor could he imagine any shop from where it might have come.
Karl sighed.
"I guess - well, isn't it what every man wants? A pretty wife and a litter of kids. I'm no different."
---
"Oh, fuck - !"
Ethan shuddered through an orgasm, on his back and Karl rutting over and into him. His thighs and legs quaking, jerking - first through the weak spurting pleasure of his peak and then from the overwhelm, of having come and Karl not relenting. He whined and Karl laughed and kissed his slack mouth and screwed his thick wide cock into Ethan's ass, holding him still by the hips when Ethan jerked and tried to lift himself away.
"Where are you going, huh?"
"Nowhere, fuck, please come - "
"You want that? Want me to fill you up?"
"Yes, yes - !"
"Fuck - "
Karl gripped him, held him like a doll, slammed against him and stuttered and came. He stayed wet and slowly softening inside Ethan's body, rocking against him, holding him. Pressing bristly, wet kisses to Ethan's sweat-slick hair and forehead. Handsome, Ethan thought, and then, dangerous - Karl leering like a predator above him, face framed by the fall of his gray hair.
Gradually the rocking stilled. Karl unwound Ethan's arms from his neck. Then came dislodging his cock from the mess he had made of Ethan's body. Ethan hissed at the raw tender agony when the blunt head slipped out of him, catching briefly at the rim; followed then by the shameful trickle of lubricant and spend.
"No, not on the sheets," he groaned, agonized, thinking of laundry. But Karl only grinned and kissed him and rolled Ethan onto his stomach.
"It's fine. Be quiet, now. Let me enjoy this."
Ethan huffed against the pillows. Still he listened, laying quiet, while Karl held his still swollen cock in one fist and let the wet leaking head drag over Ethan's fuck-loosened hole.
"Beautiful," he said. "Looks like I fucked a cunt into you."
Ethan winced. Felt a flush of heat that spilled red over his cheeks and shoulders. The tips of his ears as well he'd guess by the sly way Karl laughed.
"You like that, Winters? Knew you could be a bitch, but - "
"Stop," Ethan said. Skin burning, throat burning, stomach dropping to his knees. All familiar consequences of the cruelties meted out to him when he and Karl played these kinds of games. This was and was not the same. Surely he didn't - it wasn't true. Karl was only winding him up. Still. Karl's words - and his insistence, his confidence, his knowing what Ethan liked - dredged some latent want out of him even now. He tried the taste of it. Karl had fucked his cunt. Well. His spent cock twitched.
"Fuck that. You know what you say if you want to stop."
Karl grabbed him, covering his cock and his balls with one huge hand, Ethan's cockhead nudging up against the rough calloused palm. First the grip was only firm and the anticipation sent Ethan's breathing heavy. That and the way he fit so neatly there, how Karl could enshroud him completely. Then, a squeeze, the pressure enough to seize him, the pain like the pressing of a bruise.
"Karl, please - "
"A pretty pussy is nothing to be ashamed of."
"No, no - "
"That why you ask if I wanted a baby, Ethan? You want to give me one?"
Christ. Red liquid heat pooled between his thighs.
"Karl - "
"Yeah. That's it, isn't it? Fuck. You'd look good pregnant."
Ethan jerked forward, rabbit-fucking the soft head of his dick into Karl's fist, whole body aching and alight. He could not come again, was not hard. Still dazing bolts of pleasure lit the whole inside of him, buzzing along his nerves, terrible and joyous. Karl tightened and then released his hold and Ethan shuddered, whining, loud enough that Karl shoved a hand over his mouth to quiet him and followed him as he collapsed on his back into the skin-warmed bedsheets and the wet mess that had leaked from his hole.
"Do you think she heard?" Ethan whispered.
"Shhh."
They laid together in the tense quiet, waiting. No sound came from the rest of the house. A sigh, then, shared between them. Blessed relief. Then:
"I don't want to sleep in the wet spot."
"Christ. Quit your bitching."
Karl moved him and kissed him again, rolling then to his feet. He padded nude from the room. Soon after came the sweet thick stink of tobacco smoke curling from the kitchen to the bed. Now the haze and euphoria of the pain had fully passed, Ethan dragged his fingers through the cooled filthy mess on his stomach. Inside, beyond the dull ache of having been fucked, he felt strange and hollow. He pressed his hand into his stomach. Dreamed he felt a heartbeat drum back against his fingers.
---
Put a baby in you. Knock you up. Breed your tight little cunt. When they had the time to fuck this was what came tumbling out of Karl's mouth more often than not, said with the indulgent tone of a parent. Ethan, reluctant to encourage this behavior, nonetheless came like a punch to the sternum every time he did it.
At least Karl seemed similarly affected. He had begun to spend long moments of their post-coital bliss prodding into the warm mess of Ethan's insides, shoving his spend back into Ethan's hole and plugging him with his thick fingers. Karl had claimed space for himself in Ethan's life and in his ass; now it seemed he was just as intent on claiming space in Ethan's belly. All of it was absurd - and yet. He found himself often drifting toward the dream of a child. Tugged along by the heady pull of shared fantasy.
"I think you could," Karl said one night, knuckle-deep in Ethan's ass, pinky and ring finger folded against his perineum while index and middle finger rutted without mercy towards the throbbing heat of his core. Mindless, writhing and leaking against the sheets, Ethan was unsure he'd heard him correctly or if he had spoken at all.
"Wh - what?"
"Think you could get knocked up."
Hunger welled behind his teeth.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" He spasmed weakly around Karl's fingers. "It's just - Karl, it's a fantasy. That's all."
"I'm serious. Ethan, you aren't human. You aren't even like me. Similar but - not the same. We don't know what makes you tick."
"I can't - I can't think right now - "
Karl tucked his fingers deep and Ethan whined, toes curling. The throbbing in his overtaxed thighs and in his fucked-open rim near indistinguishable from one another, all of it a mass of heat and ache and pressure that made his cock drip.
"You willed yourself into growing a new heart, Ethan. You don't think you could handle a womb?"
Insane. Impossible.
(As impossible as a man capable of manipulating metal with his mind. As impossible as a corpse kept moving through the influence of mold.)
Ethan clenched hard around Karl's fingers, whimpering and shaking as he came.
"Do you want that?" Ethan asked in the aftermath.
Karl grunted.
"I said it, didn't I?"
If it never worked… But Karl wanted a child. Deserved a child. Everything had been stripped from him. The least Ethan could do was try to offer him hope.
"How would we know if it even worked?"
"Shit, Ethan. We just keep trying until it takes."
---
"Oh fuck. Fuck."
Ethan groaned, his face shoved hard into the floor, jarred by the sudden pain unlinked from arousal that lasted until Karl wrapped one huge hand around his pathetic leaking prick and squeezed. A sharp lance of electric pain jolted him, making him spasm. Making his dick pulse against Karl's palm.
"God, oh, fuck. It hurts."
"How bad? How bad does it hurt? You feel like you're dying?"
"No, no, no. Keep going."
Karl obliged him, digging two fingers past the grasping hot rim of his ass and fucking him, hooking inside, pulling him open and apart. The dull ache not as electrifying as the shame, the humiliation of it. Caught as he was by Karl, his strength, the thick heaving weight of him. Ethan could prevent nothing. He lay entirely at Karl's mercy, able only to roll into the drive of Karl's fingers, to thrust his own throbbing needful cock towards the floor in the absence of more substantial stimulation.
Karl lowered his chest down to rest against Ethan's back, making Ethan bear more of his weight. Ethan spread his legs, settled more firmly onto his knees and elbows. The extra weight was not comfortable but neither was it unbearable. He could breathe. Then the fingers inside of him hooked again and then twisted, tugging up towards Ethan's spine, dragging him up and open; he whined and his thighs and hips raised to try to follow, but Karl hunkered down atop him and he could not move, only take, his toes flexing against the floor.
"Oh fuck, fuck, no, no - "
"No? Doesn't feel like no to me, baby. You're so wet."
"Karl, please, please."
Chuckling, Karl reared back, slipping his fingers out of Ethan's sore hole. He guided Ethan to lay on his back, then grabbed him by the thighs and dragged him across the floor until he was laying nearly against Karl's lap.
"Alright?" Karl asked, one hand resting in the crease of Ethan's leg, his thumb not touching Ethan's throbbing cock.
Ethan took a breath. The muscles in his legs ached and his face felt bruised and he could feel the weak fluttering of his hole. He felt small, hurt, ugly. Prey mammal bunkered down in the dark. Revulsion flushed through him, suffusing him with shame, with heat, and Karl looked at him with such raw unhinged want that Ethan's eyes and his untouched cock both began to leak.
"Oh, darling." Karl touched Ethan's face. "Too much for you?"
Ethan shook his head.
"Good,” he said. “Good.” Smoothing his hands down Ethan’s cheeks. Cupping his chin. Ethan shuddered and a fresh wave of tears fell and caught on Karl’s fingers, sliding down and disappearing into the hair on his knuckles. “Christ. Love it when you cry. You look so pretty. Let's fuck that face for a while."
Karl got him to his knees again. The floor was hard beneath the bone and he could have asked for a pillow or one of the thin blankets from their bed but he didn't, neither did he want to speak nor did he want that comfort, however small. Ethan sat back on his haunches, waiting while Karl stood and peeled away his briefs.
Pretty, he’d said. Pretty. How could that be so? What could he look like, here on his knees at Karl’s feet? Only pathetic, lean, pale; the sparse hair on his belly and chest thin and blond, an unkempt wiry nest at his groin and an unimpressively average cock. Karl - Karl was so large. Yes, the huge purpled length of his cock, but the rest of him as well. Muscle packed beneath fat, a body that even before its corruption had seen labor, sweat, and few lean days. His soft belly and his chest covered in greying hair, his strong shoulders and arms, every inch of him thick. A body that could hold a man like Ethan down by the throat with the same grace and ease it took to rock his daughter back to sleep. (Privately, Karl was what he thought of when he thought even the word man. Deeper, darker still: the idle dream that if Mia had lived, Karl would have taken her from him; and what would he have been able to do but let him?)
“Open up,” Karl said, cock in his fist, stepping towards Ethan. Ethan obeyed and Karl pushed the wide silken head past Ethan’s lips and thrust to the back of his throat. The strike made him gag, made his eyes water. His hands flew to the tops of Karl’s thighs, but Karl said, “Keep them behind your back,” and he lowered them, and Karl said “Breathe, Ethan,” and he took a deep breath through his nose. After a few moments of stillness, Karl grasped him by the longer hair at the crown of his head and by the back of his skull. He pulled back, enough that his cockhead rested on Ethan’s tongue, then he thrust again, and again, until he found a rhythm of rutting that Ethan could take.
"Thinking happy thoughts, darling? Like how fucking good you'll feel once I've got my dick up you?"
Ethan gurgled, drool unspooling down his front. He had been. Karl felt so huge like this. He wanted that cock inside of him, breaking him apart. Another brutal thrust struck the back of his throat, then another angled towards his soft palette, and a bright terrible pain blotted out his thinking. He coughed and shuddered, and Karl held him down. His lips and his nose squashed flat against Karl’s belly, Karl’s dick fully in his throat. Ethan was aware only of the thunder of his blood in his ears and Karl’s soft, pleased murmuring and the exquisite pleasure of being choked.
After hours - only seconds, truly - Karl let go of him and he tore himself away, breathing in great gulps of air. A viscous churned froth of spit and precome fell in strings from his gaping mouth. He had the absurd thought to be grateful that Chris had purchased a house with no carpet.
“Fuck, you look good,” Karl said. Ethan coughed again, struggling to blink the tears from his eyes. Karl stood tall and staring down at him, his expression black with hunger.
“It’s time - ah, time to put a baby in me, right?” Ethan winced at his own awkwardness. But Karl only grinned and knelt to scoop Ethan up as though he weighed no more than Rose.
“Hands and knees again,” Karl said as he deposited Ethan onto the bed. Ethan rolled to his stomach, complying. Behind him, Karl shifted the sheets and the blankets, then stood, then returned, his weight depressing the bed. Ethan heard a snap. A drizzle of cold lubricant poured over his hole, Karl’s hand resting firm on one of his cheeks. For a moment his heart seized and he thought Karl meant slide in his fingers instead of his cock and he opened his mouth to beg - and Karl mounted him in one smooth motion, covering Ethan’s body with his own, hilting his cock into Ethan’s ass from tip to root.
“Oh, fuck - !”
“Yeah - !”
Too big. Too tight. Too much all at once. Karl’s hands held him by the hips, tight enough to bruise.
“You take dick so well,” Karl crooned near his ear. The tips of his long hair dragging across the back of Ethan’s neck. “Tight, though. Gonna have to fuck this cunt of yours open, baby.”
“I want - I want you to - ah, fuck - ”
Ethan clenched and rocked while Karl began to establish a rhythm, deep slow strokes that made Ethan feel as though he were being hollowed out. He dropped down to his elbows, pressing his filthy wet face into his pillow. This angle made the already deep strokes feel deeper, and it made him feel like a whore. Face down, ass up, desperate and greedy for it.
“Karl, please. Please fuck me.”
Karl snapped his hips forward. Drove his cock in. Fucked Ethan just as he’d asked. Ethan thrust his own hand between his thighs, grasping at his half-limp cock. He’d begun to soften from the intensity of the penetration, but once he had himself in hand he filled out again to full hardness. His palm was dry; still it was good, Karl fucking into him and sending Ethan’s dripping cockhead to crash into the loose grip of his hand.
Arms wrapped around Ethan’s waist, his chest. A hand groped at his flat chest, pinching one of his nipples hard between index finger and thumb. He wanted it to stop and he wanted to twist away and instead he pushed desperately against Karl’s hand, gasping when Karl pinched him again. The pain grounded him. Set the orgasm back. He’d thought for a moment that he could have come like that, with just Karl’s cock in his ass and his own hand to rut against. Karl rolled his palm across one side of Ethan’s chest and drove hard into him and said, with a strange tone of contemplation, “Think you could do that too?”
“What?” Ethan said. “Do, do what?”
“Grow a pair of tits?”
Ethan gasped. Karl still running his hands over Ethan’s chest, though now with a greater sense of purpose. Exaggerating the curve of his fingers as though he were cupping flesh that was not there - cupping Ethan’s breasts - Christ. Could he? They didn’t know for certain that this would work, though they had agreed to try. Could he, though? Could he? The fire in Ethan’s belly roared. What would it be like, to sit in Karl’s lap, that thick cock lodged up inside of him, swollen tits and belly held in Karl’s wide hands? Ethan felt himself unraveling. The desire so strong. Tears pricking and welling in his eyelashes and threatening to fall. He couldn’t say it. (How could he say it?)
“I don’t know, I don’t - ”
“Bet you could,” Karl said. His hips stuttered.
“Karl, please - ”
“A nice set of swollen tits to nurse our baby girl. Fuck. Ethan.”
Karl wound an arm around Ethan’s collarbone, pulling him upright, forcing his back to arch. His other hand still holding Ethan’s tit. This angle changed the feel of being fucked, made it sharper, made it hurt. Ethan grasped Karl by one of his thick, hair-covered thighs, digging his fingernails into the skin when Karl thrust a certain way and stars shot up the curve of Ethan’s spine.
“Ready, baby? Ready to be my sweet girl? Gonna take this knot right up your ass.”
Yes, Ethan thought, dizzy and cock-drunk. Yes, please, yes. Karl rarely knotted Ethan. There wasn't time, usually, nor reason, and though Karl was not shy about this inhuman part of himself truthfully Ethan feared it. The size when it swelled - when first they had coupled Karl had forced Ethan's hand to the base of his cock while the bulb had begun to fill. Fascinated, horrified, Ethan held it. His fingers could not quite touch when circled around the widest part. He’d taken it before, he’d loved taking it, but a whisper in his skull had said it will ruin you and he couldn’t help but listen.
Karl grunted, the fat leaking head of his prick striking Ethan perfectly inside, again, again. Surely he would shake apart if he weren't so thoroughly mounted. He thrust once, twice, then instead of pulling back to let only the head and a few inches wallow and drain into Ethan’s ass, he pressed them together, chest to back and hips to hips, forcing the whole length of dick up into Ethan’s guts.
“Oh, fuck, fuck,” Ethan whined, struggling to move and pinned by Karl’s strength. He could feel it. The knot. Engorged and blood-hot and throbbing. Slow like a tanker Karl pumped his spend thick and wet into Ethan's ass, Ethan sore and sick with it. The knot expanding, plugging him up. Nausea passing over him in waves, punctuated by Karl's languid humping, his dribbling cock stirring and soaking Ethan's tender insides. His hands running flat down Ethan's flanks as though he were an anxious horse.
“Feel that?”
Ethan groaned. Full to the point he feared come would pour from his mouth.
“Yeah, fuck. I. I feel it.”
“That’s our baby.”
Karl dragged his knees against the bed to get closer, get his feet under him and press more deeply into his haunches and force his cock and the knot further down into Ethan's aching guts. He reached beneath Ethan and found his cock and engulfed it in one hand, pulling him off easily. Ethan came with a whimper, a sad smear of come dribbling onto Karl’s hand. He felt overheated and overfucked. Brain turned to mush. This is what I am, he thought, too aware of Karl’s cock still hard, still pouring into him. A cunt. A womb. Life shall thrive inside of me and when the time comes I shall birth it.
Karl wiped his hand on the sheets beneath them. He took Ethan's hand and he placed both against Ethan's belly. To his horror, he was swollen. His belly distended. The skin bulged out, tight and hot.
“Feel her, Ethan?”
Yes. Yes. The cold morning when Mia, fresh from showering, first noticed her baby bump, she had woken him and forced his hand to fit over the small prominence, that clump of cells caught in their slow process of dividing. It had felt just like this.
“I feel her,” he said, breath hitching.
Karl shifted, sat back, brought Ethan with him into his lap. He eased them both down until they both laid on their sides, and he arranged their hips in a way that allowed Ethan to rest comfortably, the knot seated and not tugging against his sore rim.
“Can’t wait ‘til you start showing,” Karl said into Ethan's neck. His beard scraped, making Ethan’s stomach flutter. Hot humid breath bloomed against the fine hairs at his nape before Karl clamped down with his teeth and bit him.
“I’m not a chew toy,” Ethan said, instead of what if I never do?
“Look like one to me.”
“What kind of comeback is that?”
“The only one I can manage right now. Be thankful I can talk at all.”
It took nearly an hour for the knot to shrink enough that Karl could remove it. By then Ethan had begun to doze, eyes shut and his thoughts half in dream. The backs of his eyelids swimming with visions of a little girl, her head full of dark hair, who smelled like powder and like Karl.
“Ethan,” Karl said, rousing him. “You ready?”
Ethan nodded.
Karl eased his cock free from Ethan’s grasping body with a soft pop, and with it came a flood. Come gushed from Ethan’s sore, gaping rim. Karl cursed, tilted Ethan’s hips forward, eased him up onto a pillow. Still, the molten heat and then rapidly cooling crust of spend pooled into the crease where his ass met thigh, and around his balls, and dripped onto the sheets and down his spent cock. Another wave of sickness washed through him, cold and arresting, though this was accompanied not by another driving stab of Karl's dick or another fresh wave of Karl's spend but with a deep inner churning as though someone had reached into his guts and pulled. His hips ached with it. His legs. He was being emptied.
Karl bunched the top sheet up and began to mop at his ass, his thighs. It seemed to do little good. After a while he relented, balling the whole thing up and tossing it to the floor.
“Pretty sure this sheet set is fucked.”
“Oh no,” Ethan mumbled into the mattress.
---
Karl knotted him as often as they could manage. Slept with his ear pressed against Ethan’s belly. Ethan gained weight that seemed concentrated on his middle. He woke in the mornings plagued by nausea. His chest swelled and grew sensitive to touch.
oh anon we're really in it now
#this is. a very horny ficlet
#it might be vqguely dubcon-y
👀👀👀👀 hoping it's me anon ask (wntrsbrg k+b+imprgn+d request) if it's dubcon-y it's ok - you can mindbreak Ethn into liking it in the end and he accepts his fate as broodmare <3 throw in a lycan or varcolac if Karl gets tired - idk go crazy.
yes indeed anon u r the ask i got first (': ty for the excellent prompt btw. Im sort of writing two paths at the moment...so we shall see which scenario ends up making it to the Posting
I doubt the re8 fandom is very alive but i have the urge to write and I would love to write some graphic porn for the wintersberg ship so please submit prompts if u got em
Jaskier/Dijkstra, boss/secretary, love actually inspired (by which i mean i ripped a scene right from the movie but made it gay and not cheating), D/s vibes. 445 words
(also on ao3)
--
There’s a tap on Dijkstra’s shoulder. Only a very few people dare to actually touch him, and only one of them is present at the company Christmas party tonight, so he already knows who to expect when he turns around.
It’s Jaskier. Of course it is.
Dijkstra’s secretary is dressed in a sharp black suit and a red shirt that shows an indecent amount of cleavage and his ample chest hair. A damn coquette. He’s also wearing a headband with two little red horns.
He’s a little diabeł alright, Dijkstra thinks, always shaking that tight ass at me and making all meetings hell.
“Any chance of a dance with the boss?” Jaskier asks sweetly.
Perhaps Dijkstra has had one glass of whiskey too many, because he finds himself agreeing. “Sure,” he says, “as long as your boyfriend doesn’t mind.”
He means the white-haired mountain of a man owning the bar they’re at. Jaskier had said friend when he suggested the location, but Dijkstra knows the little slut is physically unable to keep it in his pants.
Jaskier follows his gaze. His eyes land on the man pouring drinks. He lets out a bright little laugh. “Not my boyfriend,” he says simply. His smile is disarming.
In that case…
Dijkstra puts a hand on the small of Jaskier’s back and leads him to the dancefloor. He can feel the heat of his skin even through the fine suit.
Jaskier lets him take the lead. He presses close to Dijkstra, closer than necessary for a work party dance. His presence is a warm line down Dijkstra’s front as they begin to rock to the rhythm of the song playing.
As they dance, Jaskie keeps watching his face intently. Expectantly. His baby blues bore into Dijkstra as if he’s waiting for something.
Dijkstra is pretty sure he knows what the little menace is after. He’s feeling generous tonight, and decides to give it to him. After all, it’s Christmas.
“You’re looking very pretty tonight.”
Jaskier preens. His eyes dart down briefly, and his pink, pink tongue flicks out to wet his plush lip. “It’s for you,” he murmurs.
“Is it, now?” Dijkstra teases.
Jaskier smirks, sharp and filthy. He’s sin incarnate. He leans in close, until his lips are brushing Dijsktra’s cheek. Dijsktra can feel his hot breath on his skin. “It’s all for you,” Jaskier purrs, “sir.”
Dijkstra lets his hand slip down briefly to squeeze a handful of that delicious arse. Jaskier gasps, his hips twitching forward to grind against Dijsktra’s thick thigh.
“Later,” Dijkstra says.
Jaskier makes an indigent little sound, but he quickly chokes it down. “Yes, sir,” he agrees.
i dunno if i will write more but i miss this fandom and i miss writing porn so here is a thing (': if it makes absolutely no sense - sorry! i am sorely out of practice. the next one will be better.
---
There was pollen dusted in his hair and on his skin. A fine sheet of it, a sheen - say, an iridescence - that with sweat transformed to a gilding of his usual pallidity. In the firelight and the moonlight, seeming molten and bestial, Geralt had never looked more handsome.
"Geralt, wait - "
"Be quiet, Jaskier."
"Please, don't - "
"I said, be quiet."
Geralt grabbed his legs by the knee, rolling Jaskier to the dirt on his back and then folding him, waist-wise, like paper. The full weight of him, two hundred pounds of muscle, mounting Jaskier from the front and pressing him flat.
"It's the flowers, isn’t it? Making you do this?"
Jaskier had heard of such flora. Immortalized in poetry and warned of in song. Petals and pollen that drove folk mad; that when touched, when inhaled, struck a hunger up inside them, that cannibalized and consumed them.
It was the flowers.
His mouth was forced to part around Geralt’s tongue. Geralt tasted like unwashed teeth, like onion, like chalk. Then, as Jaskier bit him, like blood.
"Gods damn it, Jaskier - "
"You've never - Geralt, please - "
He'd never. Never wanted. Not in their year-long acquaintance. Though Jaskier had fluttered his eyelashes, had knelt at his feet, had made it clear that if Geralt were to kiss him -
"What do you know of my wanting?" Geralt snarled. His hands tearing at Jaskier's pretty doublet. His teeth ripping open his fine silk chemise. "I want peace. I want silence. I want you to have use. I am sick of you. Sick to the brink of my own death."
Geralt bore down on him. Bit his mouth twice over when Jaskier struggled still. He shredded Jaskier's trousers, and with his huge, blunt fingers, entered him; pulled him open; held him and spat inside of him and stared at his gasping, fluttering hole.
"Don't," Jaskier said. Though it came choking out from him. On hitching breaths and amidst a flood of salt-laden tears.
"I know you've long wanted this."
Jaskier whined. The blunt head of Geralt's cock speared him, rent him, stretched him; his hands on Jaskier's knees, holding him pliant and still. Gods above, he was thick as a foreman, and with not enough slick - though what could be enough? Jaskier had seen it, had sought it out, in bathhouses and whorehouses both. He had seen it. Engorged and monstrous. Plumheaded and leaking wet and red. The surest sign that Geralt was other, wholly different than a man.
Jaskier's fingers hardly fit around the girth of it when he flung his hand down, tried to stop the inexorable sink of Geralt's cock into his unyielding flesh. Yet Geralt, golden-eyed, golden-skinned, tense and angry and desiring - he only chuckled and bared his teeth and sunk them then into Jaskier's neck.
Jaskier sobbed. Fresh tears. His chest heaving. Aching. He could not - he could not -
"Stop, please," he said. One last plea. Geralt began to fuck him, to haul all of his weight into shoving inside of him. His tongue lapped the blood from the wound he'd torn from Jaskier's throat.
"Geralt. Just - oh. Stop. You're hurting me."
"You've wanted it, Jaskier," Geralt said again. "So shut up and take it."
---
Jaskier could not rise in the morning. Nor at lunchtime or once night had fallen. He drifted between a strange, miserable wakefulness and dreams that felt as though his head were underwater.
Through these long hours, Geralt sat by his side.
"Geralt," he said, at long last breaking the silence strung tightly between them. His throat ached. Raw and red as his eyes were, from hours of senseless weeping. "I forgive you. I know what is in your heart, and I would not have this change a thing between us. My dear friend, please. I - I ask that we put it behind us. That we forget it has happened at all."
Geralt tilted his head. Jaskier watched the impassive slant of his eyes. The minute twitch of his mouth and the bobbing of his throat. He was without armor, without shirt, twin swords crossed at his lap. He was pale and bare and his skin was wiped clean.
He said,
"Alright, Jaskier. If that is what you wish."
---
“Immune?”
Eskel nodded. The tinctures he’d spread before him on the table caught the light, each liquid in its little bottle swirling and seeming to glow. Geralt had never taught him the secrets to his own potions. He had been very clear that they were not for Jaskier’s touch.
“To poisons, pollens, diseases. There is little that can harm us.”
Jaskier's stomach turned. Acid burning up his throat. And all of him, each extremity, went cold and sweating in a way more unpleasant even than he had been on his journey up the Killer.
“What of mind control? Compulsion?”
Eskel shrugged.
“It is the same. What good is a monster hunter so simply compromised?”
Whatever more Eskel might have said was lost. A roaring filled Jaskier's head. He touched his fingers to the scars at his neck; stared past Eskel's shoulder, through the window whited out by snow.
Hey, it's that time again! Kinktober is coming and soon so will all our faves.
This here is the Kinktober list for the Dead Dove Witcher server with both 'vanilla' kinks and 'dead dove' kinks for each day!
The list is free to use and we welcome any and all participants even if theyre not part of the server! All we ask is that you reblog to spread the word and please tag your finished works as "Dead Dove Kinktober 2021" so we can read and reblog, or share your finished works with us by adding them to the collection!
Welcome to the first annual Witcher Mini Kinktober!
For anyone who finds themselves overwhelmed by creating something for all 31 days in October, here’s something a little bit smaller if you still want to create kink content.
Rules:
Each day has three prompts to choose from, but they’re just suggestions to get your creative juices flowing.
This event is 18+ only! Please tag and put under a cut as necessary.
All ships are welcome!
All participants are expected to be courteous to one another. Anyone found harassing other participants for any reason will be banned.
For tumblr posts please include @witcherkinktober in your post so we can reblog
An AO3 collection is coming
Prompts:
10/3 - Collars | Gags | Hypnosis/Mind Control
10/4 - Overstimulation | Monsters | Temperature Play
