Heisenberg x Reader: The Villager Part Two

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You gaze back at your sleeping father one last time before pulling the door closed behind you

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You gaze back at your sleeping father one last time before pulling the door closed behind you. He'd been taken care of by your neighbour while you were gone in the morning, much to your relief. You'd been tugging at your hair nervously as she bid her goodbye, hoping she wouldn't see the large, red marks on your neck.

The sun has set an hour ago, yet the sky is still painted vaguely red. You close the door to your house behind you, feeling doubt twist in your chest as you leave your father behind in the night. The early night air sends a shiver down your spine as you hurry down the dirt paths. Some torches are lit around the houses, but most lay silent in rest.

You pause at the gate, looking around you warily to catch a glimpse of the child from earlier, but she seems to have stayed at home. The old metal of the gate creaks loudly as you push it open. You pull the cloak you'd brought with you tighter around your shoulders, your steps lost as the wind picks up along the narrow bridge.

Like last time, the heavy metal doors of the factory open as you get close. This time, Heisenberg is leaning against the wall, lit cigar hanging limply from his lips. He perks up visibly as you enter the factory.

''If I didn't know any better I'd say you were happy to see me.''

He looks you up and down and smirks. ''Who wouldn't be?''

You feel your cheeks heat up at his comment, the steel doors closing behind you. The soft humming of machines vibrates through your chest as you follow Heisenberg down to his living space. The cold of the night gets replaced by steam and metal.

''How's daddy doin'?'' Heisenberg asks, pinning one of his inventions to the wall with a flick of his wrist, allowing you to pass by safely.

''He's doing okay. Asleep, I hope,'' you feel shivers running up your spine as his hand lightly touches your lower back, guiding you along the narrow pass.

''He'll be fine, doll. Don't spend all night worrying or you might as well head back.''

You bite the inside of his cheek indignantly at his blunt remark, but realize he's right. Your father rarely woke up in the middle of the night.

You enter his living quarters first, and to your surprise it looked considerably cleaner than it usually did. An old radio in the corner of the room softly plays rock songs, distorted as the signal struggles to pierce layers and layers of metal and stone.

You drape your cloak over the back of a metal chair, releasing your hair from the braid it had been in to cover the side of your neck. Heisenberg lets himself fall on the couch, pulling out a new cigar and lighting it swiftly. You take your seat next to him, sinking into the warmth of his body.

His hand moves your hair out of your neck, tracing lightly over the marks he'd left. ''You've made it quite obvious,'' you say, trying to ignore the urge to move your hair back.

Karl Heisenberg OneshotsWhere stories live. Discover now