↳ 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹: 𝘃𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀

𝙆𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙃𝙚𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙜 - 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬

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[ any reader ]

While waiting for Karl to put his newest project down, which you know he's struggling to do, you pace around the bedroom and grin to yourself.

Lifting the coat from the chair, you slip your arms into the sleeves and stand before the mirror. A chuckle floats through the room because it completely swallows your figure, reminding you of when you were a kid trying on your mother's clothes.

"I'm gonna kill that bitch Miranda." You mutter deeply, frowning at your reflection. "Me and my metal army. Gonna grind you into paste. My super-sized sister too."

"Well, aren't you the cutest little thing?"

You turn and smile bashfully, pressing your cheek to your shoulder. Karl stands in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest, those pretty eyes of his sweeping over you from head to toe.

"Is that what I sound like?"

You shrug a shoulder. "You sound hotter."

"I'll take that." He smiles lightly.

"I see you managed to put your work to the side. Proud of you." He grumbles, resting his chin on your shoulder when you lean up to hug him. "Wanna sleep?"

"Thirty minutes."

"Sure," you humour him. It never is thirty minutes. The moment you have him in your arms he's out like a light for hours.

-

Early in the morning, you tiredly make your way through the factory to where he's stood over a table, toiling away on his project again. He nods his head a little to the music on the radio, standing upright to bring the bottle to his lips.

"Hey." You smile. "Karl, seriously?"

"What? What did I do?" He looks down at himself with a frown. No blood or injuries he missed which you usually tell him off for. You know it's not on purpose, you just hate seeing him hurt.

"It's six in the morning you're not drinking, put that down."

"No," he moves it away from your hand. "It helps me focus. I need to finish this."

"Put it down."

"You think you can tell me what to do? What the f-give it back."

You lean closer so your face is inches from his, noticing him glimpse your smiling lips. "I think I most definitely can tell you what to do."

"Huh," he scoffs and snatches the bottle.

"Fine. I'll join you if you wish to be so damn stubborn." You hop up onto the table and grasp the other half-empty bottle behind you, gulping a mouthful.

"Don't do that." He tries to take it but you raise it higher, enjoying his groans.

"You think you can tell me what to do?" You mock, taking another sip.

"We both know I can." He says a little more sternly. "Seriously stop. You're horrible when drunk."

"Maybe you should've thought about that before you were so stubborn."