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Confessions Of A Rotten Soldier, Magnetic; NSFW IMAGINE; Married! Karl Heisenberg x Married! Male Reader

This wasn’t going to work.

He knocked back his second glass of whiskey off the rocks and puffed his cigar, chasing the woody taste with a more than welcome breath of fresh smoke. “You’re weak.” Heel tapping incessantly at the ground beneath his wheeled stool, he sat there quietly, head in his hands. Every single man that his Lycans brought back to him wasn't good enough. Not for what he had planned. Karl had started smart with this. Have them take people from neighboring villages and small towns, keep them alive and bring them to him directly. This way, Mother Miranda either wouldn’t know or care enough to figure out what he was doing. What he’d so meticulously planned and finally, finally put into action. He was so close- all he needed was his metal army to grow. Which it would, if he could figure out why his Soldats weren’t working the way that they should. Was it something he had forgotten? Or were all the bodies simply too ordinary? These weren’t soldiers, these were husbands. Musicians, village men that didn’t fight. Even if he could hardwire their brains to think for themselves in a more complete state, their first instinct would be to plead for their families rather than throw a hit towards a woman that they’d never know the cruelty of.

With an irritated grumble turned shout of frustration, he stood and stormed over to the dissection table, peering down disdainfully at the lifeless eyes of some poor bastard that couldn’t do anything more than just lie there and rot. He slammed his fists on the cold metal, looming over the body, voice sharp and accusing. “Hear me, or do I need to drill through that skull of yours a little more? You’re weak! Zu schwach! (Too weak!) What is it,” Hands grabbing the sides of the dead man’s face, his thumbs dug harshly into pale, waxy cheeks. “Are you afraid of being put to work? Or just trying to avoid dying for a cause? You gave out on me earlier. You did that, not me. It’s you that doesn’t believe in justice. In authentic retribution.” He squeezed until the eyes began to bulge. Only then did he give pause, easing his grip until they sunk back into place.

“I can’t work miracles on uncooperative corpses.” He muttered quietly, more so to himself than to his tormented listener. “I need muscle. Impressive men, not weak bodied boys.” Lifting a pen with a twirl of his finger and his magnetism, he directed it to write notes on paper as he talked aloud. “Send the Lycans to farms. Men that do real, honest work should have better durability. We’ll need to expand ground if we plan to have enough for me to work on. Start with one and see how it goes before collecting more.” He started pacing, running over possibilities and ideas on what needed to be done. When satisfied, he ran a hand through his hair and checked the time. Shit, it was midnight. He’d made an effort to be back in their quarters before 11pm for the last week or so in an effort to avoid worrying his husband. Of course, nothing was going to happen to him with it being his factory. But he knew how much (Reader) liked their newly established couples night routine of talking for a while before bed over mugs of herbal tea, and he’d just started getting used to it.

After cleaning the lab and disposing of the corpse, he flicked the lights off and made his way to their home. It was closed off from the rest of the factory but every bit as imperative to his operations. He couldn’t risk Mother Miranda trying to turn his husband. He wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone, much less someone that he genuinely loved. Knowing that (Reader) was here gave him both peace of mind and an even deeper drive to free them both from this Hell. The door opened and he stepped inside of the dark environment, removing his shoes and hanging his coat. Before meeting his husband, this was just another empty space filled with the monotony of his failed pet projects. Now, it felt full of life. There was a rug in the living room, an old beat up couch, and a functioning box tv. On top of that, there was even a plant in the corner that dominated its given space entirely. He’d come to embrace the hues of orange and yellow decorating the petals, coupled with healthy green leaves and stalks with roots that burrowed into rich dirt. Karl walked to the kitchen that he’d fitted into the expansive space and grabbed a glass, filling it with cold water and sipping on it. God knows he needed the hydration. Whiskey couldn’t keep him running forever.

The sound of the bed creaking from their room got his attention. “Herzblatt, (Sweetheart,)” He started, bare feet padding down the hall until he stood in the doorway, half-empty glass in hand. he'd expected to see his lover, but the sight of lit candles, the lights down low, a bottle of massage oil, and the attached bathroom glowing in a similarly candlelit hue made him raise a brow. “You put all this together for us? This late?” He came in fully and sat on the edge of the bed, picking up the bottle of massage oil and giving it a curious sniff after popping the cap. Sandalwood, something earthy and woody. He popped it closed again and set it back down on the bed, a few moments passing before he realized something. His lover had a robe on and that signature look that said he had something planned. Karl subtly hoped that it wasn't anything that required too much energy.

“For you, actually. I know how self care is hard to maintain when we're both busy, so.. I thought that now’s better than never.” A slight shrug as he got off of the bed, coming around to hold his hand out, wedding band glinting lightly in the low light. “Mainly because if I sprung this on you during the day, you’d turn the offer down and go back to working on your metal army. I didn’t want you to have to choose between a priority and a luxury. Not when you’re so overwhelmed most days that you can’t notice when your body needs a break. That’s what worries me, Karl.” He helped his husband up, squeezing that calloused hand that he loved so much with his own. Knowing that the other man had little to no breaks, both as a Lord and in his personal life, (Reader) often tried to help him relax. Though, most days, that was easier said than done. Still, he did what he could when he was able. And so far, that’s worked for them.

The bathroom was pleasant. Rustic off-white tiles with designs engraved into them, a large bath big enough for the both of them, and plenty of hot water to soak in. The lit candles provided a relaxing air of comfort, orange and yellow hues flickering across the walls and illuminating the space. Shadows danced across the sudsy water, casting both men in an intimate light. It started with a kiss, slow and unrushed. Despite the fact that he had already bathed and moisturized earlier, (Reader) almost wanted to forsake his plan just to feel him skin to skin. But, he knew that it’d have to wait. Between kisses and playful nips here and there, he helped his husband remove his clothing, knowing by now that Karl was more sore than he’d ever like to admit. With every item shed and discarded in the hamper nearby, he led him to the bath and watched him sink in. The gruff, quiet moan of relief didn’t pass him by. In fact, (Reader) even smiled. Sitting on the almost too slim rim of the tub, he rolled his sleeves back and made sure that they wouldn’t fall down. “Feels good?” He asked, heart squeezing tenderly when he saw just how much Karl had relaxed.

“Yeah.. it feels good.” He murmured, leaning back and sinking lower into the water. The dirt and grime from the day began to soak off of his skin and he started to scrub at his body, intending to be as clean as possible for the massage later. In his enthusiasm, he neglected to take into account what his lover had in mind, leading him to be thoroughly surprised when (Reader) moved to kneel beside the tub and meet him at face level. “Trying to sneak a kiss in before I get out?” He asked, half-teasing before he watched his husband dip both hands into the water, cup them, and bring water up before letting it run down his hair. The warmth encompassed his skull in the most pleasant way, a genuine shudder running through him. “Slow down,” He heard, spoken in that low, nurturing tone of voice that stole his breath away. “There’s no need to rush. Enjoy it, okay?” He nodded slowly, letting his husband guide him lower into the bath until he was lying down in the tub, knees poking out of the water by choice. While not fully submerged, his face above water, the sensation of his head being massaged and hair thoroughly washed made him feel like he was caught in the most tranquil haze. The water rushing around his ears, the darkness of the room soothing his mind, it felt like he was drowning in bliss.

When his husband stopped around five minutes later, however, it felt like that calm liquid bliss tried to dry up. He knew that there was more to come, but he knew that it wouldn’t be exactly like this. The hands on his head, the dark room and hot water soothing his body, or even the exact way that his lover was looking down at him. He reached up for his wrist, grasping it before catching himself and letting go. He wasn’t ashamed, he didn’t think that he could feel that anymore. No, he was flustered. Flustered that all it had taken for him to let his walls down entirely was a head massage and a bath. If Mother Miranda could see him now, she’d call him soft. But was it so bad to be soft with the ones that you wanted to see you act that way? Karl sat up and cleared his throat, ignoring how the water that sloshed around his body now sounded more disruptive than peaceful. His cheeks burned, a river of complexities flowing through his train of thought. This was his husband, and he couldn’t even let himself relax enough to enjoy the simple pleasure of being cared for. “I..” He started, unsure of where to start. Talking through it kept him from staying stagnant in his feelings. It was the least that he could offer. His honesty.

“I appreciate this. All of it, Herzblatt. (Sweetheart.) But I’m just.. Not used to it. Not yet.” He admitted, gaze set on him. God, he was sure that he looked pathetic. Like a sopping wet cat that had been left out in the rain too long. His fingers were wrinkly from the water now, but even so, he raised his hand to cup his husband’s cheek, continuing on. “You’ve been so patient with me. Dating and then marrying.. I bet that you imagined a pretty house on a hill where we could settle down. Not living in a factory full of half-dead soldiers and.. well, me.” He felt a lick of frustration at himself bubble up. What was he doing? Why was he unraveling now? Karl sighed. “Spent so much of my life in the act of doing that I never had time to slow down and appreciate what I got back.” A brief, worn chuckle. “Slowing down makes it sound easy. Like you have the time to catch up on what you missed. But before you know it, you’re struggling to even get the engine started, and all that you’ve got is shitty bits of scrap metal to fix what you don’t know how.”

A quiet exhale, an amalgamation of thoughts and words that he wanted to say attempting to spill over all at once. What he managed, though, said enough. “I want to be a good husband. But it’s times like these, times when I can’t relax and just.. let go of it all, the stress from the day and whatever else bullshit arises, that I feel like I’m dragging us down. Like I’m dragging you down.” He didn’t know what else to say- if there was even anything else to say. If he had his shades on, he could’ve hidden the way that his eyes glistened with a fresh wave of tears that wanted to spill. Here he was, laid bare and exposed like the very nerves that he picked and prodded at in his Soldats. Here he was, overwhelmed and tired all at once, needing his husband more than he ever could know how to express.

The quiet shared between them was suffocating, only broken up by the droplets running off from the tub faucet every few seconds. The monotony of it was broken when he heard him speak finally, coupled with tender hands cupping his scruffy cheeks. “You’re good to me as you are, Karl. That’s why I married you.” The sound that he made in response, halfway between a soft grunt of acknowledgment and a quiet whimper as he finally felt himself start to fall apart in his lover’s embrace, was beyond cathartic. The tears were joined by barely restrained trembles, hands moving to firmly grasp onto (Reader’s) robed arms, gripping the material with every new hitch in his breath or quiet plead for him to keep talking. And thankfully, his lover obliged, providing him the comfort that he never would have guessed that he needed. He held Karl tightly, stroked his hair, and murmured sweet nothings into his ear. Soft, tender kisses were placed onto every single tear without hesitation until they’d all been driven away.

The transition from bath to bedroom came fluently. When he found his peace again, sprawled out on their bed in the soothing candlelight, he allowed him to apply the massage oil. Busy hands worked at his biceps, forearms, hands, shoulders, pecs, and abdomen with particular efficiency. The pressure from (Reader) sitting on his hips throughout the entire process only created a buildup that was just within reach of being relieved. Rather than flip the position and manhandle his lover, grasping each calf and spreading them apart before hooking them up on his shoulders to go to town, he instead placed both hands on his husband’s hips and squeezed them gently. “Please,” He swallowed, the ache in his gut and cock growing almost too much to ignore. And if the way that (Reader) had started rocking his hips in a slight circular motion was anything to go by, then he had known what was going to be requested of him before Karl ever had to say anything. “Ride me. I need you on me, touching me,” He paused, cheeks reddening despite himself. “I- I want you to take control. I don’t want to do anything but let you take care of me, alright?”

The tender grin that his husband now had managed to ease his nerves. If Karl had it in him, he would've teased him about his eagerness. But after the day that he’d had and the emotions that he’d openly felt and expressed for the first time, he didn’t have the energy to come up with anything as clever as his typical material. Instead, he propped his arms up behind his head to help curve whatever urges he may have had to take control, fully cooperating with everything that his lover had in mind. And when the time finally came for them to be purely skin to skin, no robe in the way whatsoever, he felt elated. Hearty, passionate kisses were exchanged as he felt (Reader) guide his swollen cock to his already prepared entrance, which Karl should’ve known he’d done before setting this all up, before feeling him sink down. His hips started to rock up into his husband before he remembered to avoid taking control in any fashion, putting forth a genuine effort to embrace submissiveness.

As it turned out, he could get used to it. Watching his lover ride his cock in this light, with a controlled, seductive glint in his eye, it made his legs weak beneath him. He‘d switched from keeping his hands behind his head to gripping the sheets below to have something to stay grounded with, but when that wasn’t enough and his husband could catch on to his need for something more, he intertwined their fingers with both hands and pinned each of them to the bed. Something about that in particular made Karl's cock throb embarrassingly hard, his groans and grunts of pleasure growing louder. That was encouraged more when (Reader) leaned down, sucking marks into his jawline and neck, nipping at particularly sensitive spots. “Let me hear you.” A simple demand, spoken with no room for misinterpretation. Karl hadn’t known that he could moan so freely, or be so vocal without it feeling out of place. It felt good to let himself feel pleasure without thinking about it in the slightest, hands gripping his husband’s tighter as he grew closer to an orgasm.

His breath caught and hitched as he instinctively rocked his hips up again, trying to push his cock deeper inside of his lover’s addictive warmth. “You’re close, aren’t you?” He nodded and moaned, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to focus on not finishing too early. It didn’t matter the position or the role, he always wanted him to finish first. However, like this, he didn't know how long he could last. “Good, I’m getting there..” He heard the distinct sound of his lover stroking himself as the pace of his riding changed. Karl, for the first time, felt his back arch and his toes curl- his now free hand coming up immediately to slap over his mouth as he felt his orgasm start to hit. What sent him into overdrive was when (Reader) began to clench and spasm around him and moaned low, grinding his hips down harder. “Finish inside. That’s right, fill me up..”

That was all it took for him to finally give into the feeling. He barely stifled a whine, hips pumping up as he felt his husband shudder and groan above him before thick ropes of his own pleasure landed primarily in his own hand or on Karl’s abdomen. Cock throbbing as he emptied all that he had into (Reader), his body tensed down as the arousal slowly began to give way to both exhaustion and satisfaction. He looked up at him, catching his lover's debauched expression and grinned, knowing that he looked the exact same way, if not a little more flushed in the face. Tugging him down until they were stomach to stomach and face to face, he leaned up and kissed him deeply- indulging in the contact for what it was. Intimacy, closeness, and a deep feeling of newfound thrill in trying something so new and so exciting.