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koshkamartell · 2 months ago

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Kept Woman

summary: AU one shot. Your older boyfriend Joel knows what's best for you, even if you don't agree.

warnings: unspecified age gap, possessive!Joel, low key abusive!Joel, toxic behaviour, gaslighting, reader has poor self esteem, degradation, dubcon PIV, unprotected PIV, creampie, dirty talk, daddy kink, slut shaming, breeding kink, mild dissociation.

"You woke up with a fuckin' attitude today," Joel grumbles as he heaves himself into the driver's seat of his truck. He doesn't look your way as he slams the door shut and starts the ignition.

"You'd have an attitude too, if someone else kept you up half the night with their snoring," you snipe from the front passenger seat.

Joel's loud snoring has been a point of contention in your relationship for quite some time. He always snores, although it has never been as bad as it was last night. Most of the time you can subdue the snoring with a couple jabs of your elbow into his side, or a few light smacks on his shoulder, but last night nothing seemed to rouse him. The maddening snoring was unrelenting as it sawed through your eardrums, each inhale and exhale of Joel's breath bringing you closer to a fit of rage.

You ended up seeking refuge on the couch around midnight, angry at having to abandon your luxurious king bed for the far inferior comfortability of the living room sofa. As a result you are understandably irritable this morning.

You have noticed a pattern to Joel's noisy nocturnal breathing; it seems the nights of heavy, obnoxious snoring come after a long day at work, when he returns home extra tired and ready to collapse in bed. You know he's been putting in overtime at the latest project for his contracting company. You appreciate that he works hard. But if you have to deal with another round of cacophonous snorting then you will surely go crazy.

You see Joel scoff and rolls his eyes in your peripheral vision but choose to ignore it. He always thinks you're being dramatic or complaining about nothing. You flip the sun visor down to use the mirror before rifling through your handbag for your lipstick.

"For fuck sake," Joel growls suddenly, slamming the visor shut. He glares at you and jerks the gear stick into reverse. "How many goddamn times have I told you? I can't fuckin' see that side when I'm reversin' and you got that thing down."

"Maybe you need to get some glasses if you can't see," you quip nonchalantly while twisting off the lid of your lipstick from its tube. "Old man," you add half under your breath before applying your make up.

"Oh yeah, you're so funny," Joel snaps sarcastically. The engine revs and the tires squeal as he quickly reverses out of the driveway. He grips the top of the steering wheel with one of his large hands, the other resting tense on the gear stick. He usually lays that one on your thigh while he drives, for he's always eager to touch you, to reassure himself that what he owns is close by.

But today neither of you touch. There is no air of affection between you. The atmosphere in the truck is thick with tension and punctuated by sour, fractious silence. It lasts for five gruelling minutes before you decide that you can't take it any longer.

You reach over and push the button on the stereo and the radio comes crackling to life with a crooning, old fashioned country song. You make a small noise of disgust in the back of your throat and press another button to scan through the different stations. You are trying to search for something more palatable, something more upbeat to lift you out of this shitty mood.

"The fuck are you doin'?" Joel mutters, his eyes glued to the road ahead of him. "Quit messin' around with my radio. I like the station it was on."

"Come on, Joel. I don't want to listen to that crap." You huff. When you jump over to the next channel the speakers trumpet out a fast paced, beat driven track. Yes!

"Too bad. Ain't your truck, now is it, sweetheart?" Joel's thick fingers reach out and click the radio off without so much as a glance your way. You stare at him, half in surprise and half in rage. There is a self satisfied manner to his posture now, his shoulders a little more relaxed, his brow no longer pulled into a frown. There is even a hint of smug smirk on his mouth. He's cocky, the way he asserts his dominance over you, even through such small gestures. Sometimes you wonder if he does these things to antagonise you.

"Yeah, well, maybe I'll get my own car so I can play my own music," you snap, crossing your arms and glaring out the passenger window.

"Oh yeah?" Joel chuckles and shakes his head. "And just how are you gonna do that, baby? With the measly pay you get from waitressin' at that hokey little diner?"

He grins to himself, like the conversation is an amusing joke. You hate it when he is so condescending. His atittude acts as a reminder that he's so much older than you, exceedingly more financially stable, and undeniably more wise and savvy than you could ever be.

Your cheeks heat with embarrassment. It isn't the first time Joel has ridiculed your job. He's often pestering you to quit the diner to get a cushy receptionist position at his company instead. He says it's more respectable for your resume, although you suspect it is more so Joel can keep a closer eye on you than anything else.

"I like my job," you retort quietly, staring at the passing scenery outside your window. You hear Joel hum an acknowledgement before he clears his throat.

"I know, honey. I just don't get why," he says, tone considerably softer now. He glances over to you and you can feel the weight of his gaze, you but you don't meet it. "You could be earnin' atleast double what you make if you came to work with me."

The truth is that you genuinely do enjoy your job. You like keeping busy and being a part of the close knit team that operate the place. You cherish the rapport you've built with the regular costumers and you thrive on the praise they give you. Leaving your position would be giving up your safe space, somewhere where you belong and feel valued. It would be forfeiting your only remaining slice of independence.

You don't share any of this with Joel.

"They need me," you say in a small voice. "That's what Lenny always says."

Lenny is your boss, a funny and kind older gentleman who acts like a surrogate uncle to you. He often jokes that he has been managing the diner longer than you've been alive. He has always been a source of support for you, as have the other waitresses and line cooks.

Joel snorts derisively. "They don't need you, honey. They just use ya. Lenny wouldn't think twice about replacin' you if he had to."

"That's not true," you mumble weakly. You know what Joel says is not true but there is still a tiny niggling doubt in your mind that perhaps Joel is right. He usually is, after all.

He puts his large palm over your knee where your skirt has ridden up and strokes the bare skin there. The touch of his thick, calloused hand feels possessive. "Trust me darlin', some other girl would be fillin' your shoes before you even step foot outta that shithole."

His tone isn't cruel; he sounds matter of fact and concerned, paternal in his conviction. You sigh softly and don't bother to argue back. You don't speak for the rest of the few minutes drive to your work. The tension in the truck lingers, a sense of unease that makes you feel on edge, but Joel seems totally unaffected by it. He hums, carefree and seemingly oblivious, one hand on the top of the wheel and the other still on your knee. Always so in control, always so confident.

You stare out the window with a vacant expression, a myriad of thoughts passing through your mind.

How much money have I saved now? Will Joel be angry if I work the double shift on Saturday? I need the money. Should I tell him about the invite to Paul's party now or later? My sister texted again but I just ignored it - Joel would say I keep inviting drama into my life if I text back, but I feel bad.

You don't realise how quickly the drive passes until the rundown Lenny's sign comes into view and bursts your train of thought like a bubble. As Joel pulls into the parking lot you realise just how eager you are to don your little apron and turn off all the thoughts and emotions you don't want to deal with. Joel parks the truck and you have to fight the urge to jump out and scurry straight through the diner door.

"I'll see ya tonight, baby," he murmers, leaning over to plant a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth, the scruff of his moustache tickling your lips. You flash him a little smile and slip out of the truck.

The diner was busier than usual today. The steady trickles of people meandering through to get a bite to eat or something to quench their thirst make it impossible for you to even get a decent lunch break. You and Teresa bustled around the tables serving endless cups of coffee and milkshakes alongside stacks of plates laden with burgers, fries, sandwiches and all day breakfast specials. The lunch time rush was so chaotic that you thought the line cook would have a heart attack.

You didn't mind being run off your feet - it made the noise in your head turn into low level static, a kind of vibration that silenced the anxiety and allowed you to simply exist. Working as a team, being surrounded by friends, helped you to breathe more clearly, and by the end of the day you felt a pleasant ache in your cheeks from smiling so much.

The flow of patrons only began to dwindle once the end of your shift rolled around. The sun was beginning to set, pretty pink and orange hues splashed over the western horizon, signalling the end of the day. You stand outside the diner around the side of the building and share a smoke with Tony, one of the linecooks. He's an older man around Joel's age, with a charming smile and eyes that seem to twinkle. He's always affable and chatty, a perfect gentleman.

"You goin' to Paul's party?" He asks as he takes an inhale of his cigarette. He leans against the brick wall and passes the rolled cigarette to you. You accept it and take a drag.

"I dunno," you reply with a shrug of your shoulder, exhaling a winding curl of smoke from your nose. "Not sure what I'm doing that night."

Tony's mouth quirks into a half smile and he nods, something playful and knowing in his expression. You raise an eyebrow at him and cock your head to the side curiously.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Tony holds his hand out and you pass the cigarette back to him. "Nothing," he replies casually. "Just wondering if it's that or if it's because that boyfriend of yours won't let you."

You wrap an arm around your middle and scoff, but the noise comes out sounding more defensive than you would have liked. "He's got nothing to do with it," you mutter, kicking at the pavement with the toe of your shoe.

Tony nods sagely and pops the smoke inbetween his lips. "Uh-huh," he dismisses smoothly, "well anyway, me and Teresa are goin', if you wanna hitch a lift with us."

"Thanks. I'll let you know."

Less than a minute later you spy Joel's truck cruise down the road and turn into the parking lot, the engine rumbling loudly amidst the muffled sound of country music vibrating through the windows. The arrival of his vehicle acts as an unspoken cue to end your conversation with Tony. Tony seems to understand; he flicks the butt of the cigarette onto the ground and crushes it with the toe of his boot before shooting you a smile.

"G'night," he murmers. He wipes his palms on his apron and steps around you to walk back into the diner. Joel pulls up a few parking spaces from where you stand, further toward the back of the building and away from the diner entrance. You stroll over to the truck and smile when he opens the driver side door. The twangy music reverberates from the speakers inside the truck and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

"Hey baby," Joel greets you with his smooth Texan drawl. He switches off the engine before unclicking his seat belt, then hauls himself out of the truck.

"Why are you getting out?" You ask with a frown. "I've clocked off, let's go home."

He smirks and snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you close against his front. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Couldn't wait to have you in my arms, that's all," he murmurs. "Missed ya today."

You wrap your arms around his middle and lean your head against his chest. "Missed you too."

Joel tucks a stand of stray hair behind your ear and then strokes his thumb along your jawline. "Yeah?" He purrs. "You missed your daddy?"

You nod your head and nuzzle your nose into the soft, comforting material of his flannel. He chuckles softy and cups the side of your jaw in his palm. "How about we get goin' home and you can show me just how much you missed me, hmm?"

"Mmhmm," you whisper, letting your body relax into his embrace. You feel your eyes drifting closed. You are so tired and your feet ache. The thought of going home with Joel sounds perfect; he'll choose a movie and pick up some takeout and you two will snuggle up on the couch and retreat away from the world.

Joel slowly spins around so that your back presses against the side of his truck. You giggle softly and tilt your head to look up at him. He gazes down at you intently, a glint of hunger swirling in his brown eyes as he scans your face.

His large hand slides from your jaw back to the nape of your neck. "You're so pretty, baby," he cooes. His fingers thread through the strands of hair at the base of your skull, gently at first, before he closes his fist and pulls your hair taut in his grip. You wince at the sting of your scalp. "So pretty. And just for me, right?"

Joel suddenly captures your mouth in an impassioned kiss, pushing his tongue past your lips with a dominanting force that almost feels desperate, as if he wants to consume you. You feel overwhelmed by the intensity but you let it happen, allowing your mouth to be claimed by him. You can taste the coffee and mint on his breath, while the faint mix of his cologne, sweat and cigarette smoke fills your nostrils - it intoxicates your senses, making you slightly dizzy, and you sag back against the car.

Joel's other hand squeezes your hip possessively. You're pinned between him and the truck and it makes you feel small and vulnerable, more or less trapped by his solid frame. He slots his thigh inbetween your legs and you feel the buckle of his belt dig into your stomach.

You wait until you are struggling to breath before you finally press your palms against his broad chest and push, although you're far too weak to actually get him to stop. He eventually relents and breaks the kiss, though he keeps his face close to yours.

"Make it so fuckin' hard to keep my hands off you," he mutters, nuzzling his aquiline nose against yours. You let out a breathless giggle and fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

"Let's go home, it's been a long day," you offer. Joel presses a light kiss on the tip of your nose and grins, his warm breath beating over your cheeks.

"Not yet," he whispers, "can't stop myself, baby. You already got me so fuckin' hard." He grinds his erection against your crotch, his hardened cock straining the material of his jeans. "Feel that, honey? Feel how fuckin' crazy you make me?"

You feel a tug of panic within your tummy. He has that telltale tone in his voice; gravelly with lust, but with something dangerous simmering below the insistent ardor of his affection. It is how he sounds when he wants something.

And Joel always gets what he wants.

"Joel...," you murmer hesitantly, trying to keep the nervousness from cracking through your voice. "Not here, please not now. Let's go home first."

You're grateful that Joel has collected you from the back corner of the parking lot, just far enough to be partly secluded from traffic and other people walking around. But you are still less than sixty feet from the inside of the diner where your coworkers and boss are currently still working.

"Just for a minute, baby, just need to feel you real quick." Joel reaches down and hitches up the hem of your skirt to dip his hand underneath. The caress of his calloused hand gliding up to the apex of your thighs causes a shiver to crawl up your spine. His touch always feels so good, so enticing, and when his fingers find the crotch of your panties a gasp escapes your lips.

"Joel," you whisper anxiously, clutching to the lapel of his jacket. He presses his fingers to your clit, groaning with pained lust when he feels the damp material of your panties.

"Fuck," he breathes. He fingertips begin to draw light circles over the bud, immediately eliciting a spark of pleasure to flood through your lower belly. "Just needed to feel you, sweetheart. Been thinkin' of you all day."

Joel leans down and kisses you once again, tongue slipping into your mouth and lapping at yours with fervid hunger. You feel your hips buck involuntarily, your body suddenly craving his touch, greedy for him to continue his minstrations.

He rubs your clothed clit with expert dexterity, the pressure steady but just light enough that your climax builds quite quickly. You hate how quickly he can unravel you, how effortlessly he seems to command your pleasure; but the blossoming ecstasy seems to rob you of your shame, making you forget just where you are.

All you can focus on is Joel.

Your heartbeat thrums in your chest and your breath comes in short, heavy exhalations through your nose. You feel your pussy flutter with electric pulses - you're close.

So fucking close.

Then it stops.

Joel withdraws his hand from your heat and loosens his other from your hair at the same time. He breaks away from the kiss and shuffles his boots backward a step, pulling out of your grasp.

What the fuck?

You lean forward in an embarrassing attempt to chase his lips, and whine in frustrated confusion.

"Joel what are you doing?" You pout, scowling at him.

He ignores you, glancing down as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his jeans. You watch as he takes hold of his hard cock and pulls it out from his underwear, foreskin retracting to reveal the fat head already wet with precum.

Your eyes widen in shock and your head swivels from side to side, nervously scanning for any sign of someone walking by. "Joel!" You hiss. "Are you insane?!

"Sssh," Joel croons, not bothering to look up at you. "Can't help it, baby, you're driving me crazy." He gives a lazy pump of his cock and steps between your legs again, his heavy boots nudging your feet apart to widen your stance. "Come on honey, be good for me."

"No, Joel, not here, please," you protest hurriedly, but he isn't listening to you. His massive hand tugs your skirt upwards, exposing your legs to the cool evening air and the warm metal of the truck behind you. Joel forcefully slots his body inbetween your thighs and impatiently yanks your underwear to the side, your slick arousal smearing over your lips. Your panic increases when you feel the heat of his cock press against the opening of your pussy.

He won't actually fuck you here, will he?

"Joel!" You plead, smacking your hands against his chest helplessly. You've got to get him to stop, to wake him out of this horny stupor. Someone could pass by any second and see what's happening. You'll be humiliated if anyone finds you in such a compromising position, but you will surely die from mortification if someone from work spies you. "Please."

A low growl of annoyance rumbles from Joel's chest and his hand comes to squeeze your hip, not tight enough to hurt you but firm enough to make you stop moving. He glares at you now, his pupils blown wide with predatory desire, his jaw ticking. You whimper and let your hands fall to your sides.

"I ain't askin'," Joel warns in a husky whisper. "Open up, little girl."

There's no use fighting it.

You basically agreed to it anyway, letting him touch you like that just a moment ago.

You stay silent as you acquiesce, spreading your legs further and hitching one up to sit over his hip. "That's it," he purrs lowly, "let me in."

The stretch of the crown of his cock breaching your hole makes you grimace in discomfort. He is big - the biggest you've ever had - and it always hurts when he first ruts into you. You're wet but no where near enough to facilitate a smooth entry, especially because he hasn't worked you open on his fingers beforehand either.

He groans with satisfaction when he slides into your pussy in short stuttering bursts, hand on your hip gripping you tight in place. You scrunch your eyes shut and bite down on your bottom lip to try repress the pained moans threatening to spill out from you.

"You're tight, honey," Joel murmers. "You gotta relax." His other hand comes up to cup your cheek in his large palm tenderly. "Breathe through it, come on."

He tilts his head down to press a light kiss to your hairline and the scratch of his scruffy beard prickles your skin. He is only halfway inside of you and the sting of intrusion seems to only intensify; maybe your body is rejecting Joel, so conscious of your shame and unwillingness that your insides are refusing to adjust.

You remember the first time you and Joel had fooled around, how intimidated you were when you had discovered just how well endowed he was. *"Don't worry, baby, I'll make it fit," he had said with a chuckle.

And that's what he was going to do now - make it fit, whether or not you were ready for it.

You don't even get the chance to regulate your breathing before Joel drives his hips forward and feeds his length all the way inside you. Your mouth falls open and a choked whine claws its way up your throat, and on reflex your hands ball the flannel of his shirt into your fists.

You're so unbelievably full.

"Good girl," Joel praises you in a velvety mumble that makes your clit unexpectedly throb. "Knew you could take it."

You can't help but preen on the inside at the tiny scrap of approval. You feel your pussy clench and unclench around him. You whimper and flutter your eyelids open, your dizzying vision settling on the tanned skin of Joel's strong neck, the veins by his jugular. You fight the urge to latch onto the spot and sink your teeth into him, to do something to bite back at him.

His hips start to saw back and forth with steady momentum, slowly punching his fat girth in and out of you. The burning sensation eventually dulls but the feeling of your insides parting continues to bombard you, bordering on unbearable, and it makes you mewl pathetically.

"Never get sick of splittin' this pussy open. Love seein' you cry on my cock." Joel plants a sloppy kiss on the side of your temple, seeming to relish the taste of the salty sweat of your skin.

Joel's appetite for sex has always been pretty voracious; it isn't uncommon for him to sneak up on you in the kitchen and bend you over the counter to fuck you while you're trying to cook, or for you to wake up in the mornings with his tongue lapping at your cunt. It still surprises you that a man his age has such insatiable desire, but you really can't complain, not when he's able to coax orgasm after orgasm from your body so effortlessly.

But right now you're desperately wishing he would atleast try to control himself, that he wouldn't let his animalistic compulsion cloud his sense of rationality and make him so reckless. Joel is usually a conservative kind of man, no nonsense and a tad grumpy in temperament, who would probably sneer in disgust at the idea of a man fucking his woman outside the privacy of their home. Those who know him would never in their wildest dreams guess that Joel would do such a thing - such debauchery is far more characteristic of his younger brother, Tommy.

But with you it seems Joel loses all sense of conventionalism.

You wouldn't have ever imagined him doing this, either, considering how possessive and protective he is. But you've learnt that Joel seems to foresake his self righteous attitude whenever it suits him, and more often than not when it benefits him.

Maybe you should've tried harder to persuade him to stop, to take you home instead.

"You daddy's little cock slut?" Joel rumbles in your ear. His hand leaves its bruising hold on your hip to slide over your mound. You feel the rough pad of his thumb press on your clit and your legs twitch at the contact.

He starts to swipe deft circles over the bud and soon a buzzing wave of bliss reignites once more throughout your belly. You can't help but moan, the uncomfortable sensation of being forced open finally dissipating enough to allow you to feel a degree of pleasure.

He maintains the momentum of his hips rolling against yours as he rubs your clit; soon your body is overtaken with the barrage of Joel's movements and the ecstasy he imposes upon you, and you find yourself going slack against the truck panel. The shame and anxiety you felt begins to fade as you surrender to Joel.

Your legs tremble and he senses your strength draining, always so attuned to your body and the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. He gives your cheek a light slap.

"Stay with me, baby," Joel commands."Hold on to me, I got you."

You obey, your hands feebly grabbing at the meat on his flanks to help keep you steady. He nods down at you, his fat cock still plunging in and out of your pussy, all while he massages your clit. He plays your body so expertly, like an instrument, like he knows you inside and out, knows that he's the only man who can take you apart so deliciously. Your mind starts to feel like it's floating the closer your orgasm creeps up.

"That's it, honey. You love this cock so fuckin' much, don't you? Joel grits, nuzzling his nose against your forehead. His accent is like honey to your ears, thick and dripping with lust as he whispers filth. "Greedy little pussy can't ever say no to gettin' fucked, can she?"

You whine brokenly in response, breaths coming out in short pants. You're so close, the residual pressure of your previously unfulfilled orgasm heightening every punch of Joel's cock, every circle of his digit on your clit. He continues to speak, praising you with a silky string of adoration, good girl and the best pussy I ever had dripping from his mouth.

Your orgasm reaches its peak and a swell of intense bliss blossoms from the depths of your loins to surge all throughout your body. Your pussy contracts and spasms, a trickle of juice squirting down Joel's shaft and over his balls. You have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from crying out, causing a drop of blood to bloom out over your tongue. Your fingernails are close to tearing Joel's shirt, surely leaving indents on his skin even through the material.

"Yeah, that's it baby, cum on this cock," Joel rumbles with satisfaction.

He fucks you through your orgasm to prolong your high, but you quickly reach the point of overstimulation; you plead for him to stop, your voice hoarse and tired, devoid of strength. He continues for a few seconds longer, just to tease you and make you squirm on his dick, but then he stops.

"Good girl, so good for me," he whispers, planting another wet open kiss against your temple, his mouth hot and slobbering.

You're exhausted now and just want to sleep, the post orgasm delirium settling over your mind and body like a thick cloud.

But Joel isn't finished with you yet.

He sets both his massive hands on your hips and begins to fuck into you with renewed vigor. It rips you from the alluring pull of drowsiness and you squeal at the unexpected brutish pace he sets, the force and tempo verging on bestial, like he's purposely punishing you. The edge of your underwear grinds uncomfortably against your labia and chafes the sensitive skin there.

Joel uses his grip to pull you up and down on his cock like a ragdoll, a toy whose sole purpose is to be used for his pleasure. The euphoria from your orgasm has completely disappeared now, replaced with sharp stabs of pain from where the head of his cock kisses your cervix. You grit your teeth and claw at his sides, desperately wishing it was over.

He's so deep inside you that you swear he's stabbing into your stomach. Each stroke squeezes an involuntary guttural moan from the bottom of your lungs.

"Yeah, that's right," Joel growls. "Let everybody hear you whinin' like a bitch on my cock."

You are suddenly flooded with the mortifying remembrance of your surroundings. You aren't in your cosy bed in the house you share with Joel - you're still in the public parking lot by your work place, being screwed by your much older boyfriend. Burning shame and humiliation pour over you like liquid flames, saturating and scorching every inch of your skin.

You feel dirty. Cheap.

Like he's reading your mind, Joel leans down to whisper in your ear with chilling comtemptuousness. "Lettin' me rail you in a fuckin' parking lot, like some kinda whore."

You're caught off guard by the venom of his words; a tiny gasp escapes your mouth and your fingers instinctively loosen their grasp on his back. He doesn't seem fazed by the change in your body language, too engrossed in chasing his own high to perceive how deflated you've abruptly become.

Or maybe he just doesn't care.

"Yeah. Gotta be a real shameless slut to get fucked like this. Surprised you ain't got a load stuffed in you already."

You stare at the tanned expanse of his neck once more, your eyes unblinking like you're in a trance. The prickling of tears sting at the back of your eyeballs. You'd never cheat on Joel, would never have sex with someone else. Why is he saying these things?

Your stomach feels sick. You hadn't wanted to do this in the first place - it was Joel who seduced you to. But still, he's right, isn't he? You are letting him fuck you against his truck and you aren't even telling him to stop.

Like it's just part of your job.

"'S what you are," Joel croons harshly, "aint nothin' but a dirty whore cummin' on her daddy's cock. A real brainless bitch only good for spreadin' her legs."

Joel has always been the more dominant partner during sex with you. It comes so naturally to him, slipping into an authoritative role in the bedroom as easily as he does in day to day life as a manager of his own construction company. He does not relinquish control in any area of his life.

But this feels different. There is something prowling right below the surface of this whole situation that makes you feel uneasy; it is in the barbed edge to his speech, the uncaring movements of his hips, the animalistic heaving of his breaths. A feeling that he wants to hurt you.

"Bet you'd let me fuck your ass right now too." Joel pants in your ear, words slurring slightly from the fervid of his own gratification, like he's drunk. "Bet you'd fuckin' love that, lettin' me bust a nut in your little asshole."

You feel your heart crack a little at the cruelty of his tongue, how easily they seem to slither from his mouth like a serpent. You don't speak back.

"I'm gonna keep all your holes filled," he mutters. "Make sure you're drippin' all the time. That what you want, baby?"

Through the haze of your pain you can detect the telltale throb of his cock, the way his hips move in a more frenzied, sloppy rhythm. You know his body just as well as he knows yours; he's about to cum, and when you feel the momentary swelling of his girth you brace yourself for his climax. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips painfully.

"Take it, bitch, take it all."

Joel slams his cock deep inside your pussy one last time before his cum erupts over your walls and cervix, filling you to the brink with his milky spend. He moans and grunts in your ear, his chest heaving against your frame, crushing you further into the panel of the truck, crumpling your far more delicate and smaller body.

He pulls out of you swiftly and you are immediately hit by the aching emptiness left inside you. You scramble to adjust your panties and to pull your skirt down, and your balance teeters dangerously. Joel is quick to catch you from falling to the ground, wrapping his hands around your upper arms to keep you upright.

"Whoa, honey, easy." He soothes, soulful coffee brown eyes darting all over your face with concern. His expression is so soft, a complete juxtaposition to the predatory scowl he wore just minutes ago, like he's transformed into a totally different man. "You okay?"

You nod your head, eyes fluttering open and shut as your brain fights against the foggy film of dissociation permeating your thought process. Are you okay? You aren't really sure.

"Mhm," you murmer anyway, almost inaudibly.

"Oh, my perfect girl," he whispers softly, so reverent and loving. "I love you so much." He tilts your chin up with his thumb and plants a tender kiss on your lips; you can't help but melt into it, like a kitten desperate for warmth and affection. The mist surrounding your senses abates quickly, leaving you staring up at Joel with mirrored adoration in your eyes. He strokes your hair and gives you a small smile, the dimple in his side visible for a second.

"I love you too." You preen and reach up to stroke at the patchy beard along his jaw, marvelling at just how handsome he looks. You want to savour this moment, wishing to memorise just how beautiful the intimacy between you and Joel feels right now.

He loves you. You love him. That's all you need. It's all you want.

"Come on honey, let's go home and get somethin' to eat," he tells you, stepping away and making quick work of buckling his belt back up.

You nod in agreement, getting ready to haul yourself up into the truck when your mind suddenly snaps alert to the lack of weight on your shoulder. You whine in annoyance as you realise the mistake you made. "Shit! I forgot my purse inside. Ugh."

"Well go on and get it," Joel drawls, laidback and unbothered. "I'll wait for ya." He gives your ass an encouraging pat. "Hurry along."

You sigh dramatically and turn around to go back inside. He folds his arms and leans back against the truck, eyeing the sway of your ass while he tries to conceal the conceited triumph radiating through his chest. Yeah, he knows what he pulled was an asshole move, but it had to be done. You've been getting a little too mouthy for his liking, a little too friendly with your coworkers. And once he knocks you up you won't have any more excuses to keep working at this shitty diner. You will be at home, barefoot and pregnant, with no where else to go and no one else to rely on. You'll be marked for life. A kept woman.

He smiles a little to himself, content with the knowledge that as you make the walk back to the diner the slow gush of his semen will be creeping into the gusset of your panties.

credit to @saradika-graphics for the divider

#joel miller x reader #joel miller dark #joel miller #dark! joel miller #joel miller dark fic #joelmiller #dark! joel miller x reader

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bills5lut · 7 days ago

Text

delivered

masterlist prompt list

warnings: angst, avoidance.

synopsis: you and billie having to do long distance because she’s touring, but the distance seems to be becoming too much for the both of you.

The apartment is still. Not the comforting kind of stillness, this is the kind that feels like something’s missing. A low-grade hum of wrongness beneath the surface, like you’re walking through a version of your life with the volume turned down.

You’ve had your phone beside you all day. Not even pretending otherwise.

Every buzz has made your heart jump. But none of them have been her.

You glance at the screen again.

Delivered.

The last three messages sit there like tiny bruises. Nothing terrible, just, nothing back.

hope you slept okay, what’s today like?

saw that clip of last night, you sounded insane. crowd went nuts.

are you on the bus today? finneas said you guys had a long drive. hope it’s not too boring.

You chew at the inside of your cheek. You’re not angry. You’ve told yourself that so many times it’s almost true. She’s working. She’s doing what she loves. She’s tired.

But still. Billie’s somewhere on a bus, rolling through southern Europe with signal and time and a full day of nothing but road ahead of her. You know that because Finneas responded to your story with a blurry pic of Billie asleep on the couch. Not because Billie told you.

You press your thumb against the screen and hold it there. Staring. Then you hit the call button. The ringtone hums into your ear, and you stand up, too full of restless energy to stay sitting. You pace from the window to the kitchen counter and back again, your socked feet whispering across the hardwood.

Second ring.

You pick up a coaster, set it down again. Open the fridge. Close it.

Third ring.

Then a click. The line connects with a faint burst of static, followed by the low murmur of movement, fabric rustling, maybe the sound of Billie shifting under a blanket.

“Hey.”

The sound of her voice makes your knees almost buckle.

“Hey, hi,” you say, too fast. You try to sit on the couch but end up perching on the edge, one leg tucked under the other. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Just tired.”

You smile automatically, even though your chest is tight. “Long drive today, huh?”

A pause. You can hear the dull hum of the engine in the background. Someone’s faint laugh, far away.

“Mm. Yeah.”

You pull at the drawstring of your hoodie, winding it tight around your fingers.

“I saw a video from last night’s show,” you say, your voice lighter now, trying to find that old rhythm. “You sounded incredible. That acoustic section? Jesus.”

“Thanks.”

A whisper of fabric again, as she moves. The line crackles softly.

You keep going, gentle and hopeful. “What city are you headed to?”

Another beat.

“I forget. Somewhere in Spain.”

You let out a soft, quiet laugh. “You’re so bad at geography.”

No laugh from her. Not even a huff.

You sit back a little, shifting your weight. You hear the tiny click of her water bottle cap. She’s moving around, kind of half-there.

“I was thinking about Lisbon,” you say. “That bookstore. The one where the floor slanted and you kept making me read poems out loud.”

“Yeah.”

“I read the back page of that notebook today. You’d written something about the light on the tiles. Made me cry a little.”

Billie doesn’t say anything. You imagine her staring out the tour bus window, barely listening.

“That’s cute,” she says eventually.

You run your hand through your hair, slowly. Everything in you wants to ask her what’s wrong. But you know the answer: nothing. Nothing’s wrong. And that’s the worst part.

“Did you eat today?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d you have?”

“I don’t know,” she mutters. “Some gas station shit.”

You fake a smile into the receiver. “Romantic.”

She doesn’t respond. Just a soft shift of her breathing.

Then she asks, “How was your day?”

It’s a strange question coming from her now. Her tone doesn’t match the words. It’s distant, like it belongs to someone else.

Still, you answer. You always answer.

“I, it was okay. Kinda quiet. I did some work, went for a walk after dinner. The sunset was….”

“Hey,” Billie cuts in. Not harshly. Just suddenly.

You stop talking.

“I think I’m gonna crash,” she says. “Got an early soundcheck tomorrow.”

“Oh.” You swallow. “Okay.”

You pause, fingers tightening around the phone.

“Goodnight, baby,” you say softly. “I love you.”

There’s a long, long pause.

Then just: “Yeah. Night.”

The line goes dead.

You stare at the screen for a few seconds, like maybe you imagined that. Like maybe she didn’t just hang up without saying it back.

She always says it back.

She always calls you baby. Or babe. Or honey. Or something.

Tonight, nothing.

You lower the phone to your lap and just sit there. The room is too still again. The fridge hums. Somewhere in the apartment, a pipe clicks.

You feel suddenly ridiculous. Like you’re twelve years old waiting on a boy to text you back. Except it’s not that. It’s worse. Because it’s Billie. And you’re not mad. You’re not anything sharp or fiery.

You just feel small.

And maybe a little foolish for loving someone who feels a million miles, and kind of is.

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unknownsvoid · 1 month ago

Text

BLLK BOYS AND THE "GIVE A BITCH SOME HEAD OR SUM' TREND" P2!!

✮⋆˙ | featuring: eita otoya, tabito karasu, sae itoshi, shidou ryusei, oliver aiku.

✮⋆˙ | cw: suggestive/crack themes! fem!reader. no proof read... the usual. tags: @pinkymangacaps you pretty person want part one? -> here ya go, babycakes!

Eita Otoya! (hate this man whore sm but also love him idk)

You and him are in his room, scrolling through your phones. Soon enough, you get bored, looking over at your man who was currently vaping. (flavoured usb stick. come for me idc sighhh)

You've noticed the trend is currently viral and spiraling around, seeing multiple videos forming on your fyp! Soooo... why not try it on your personal man-whore boyfriend? You begin recording, the sound playing and the fucker turns to look at you almost immediately. A goofy, lopsided smile on his face, "Right nowww?" "..." You give him a concerned look. How did he react so fast... like he was prepared.

"What? Don't look so worried, princess! You're the one who instigated this!"

"Instigated? What a big word. Surprised you know it." He frowns at words, "You're not getting any head now." You shrug, "Neither are you I guess!" The pure worry and sadness on his face as soon as you said that was to die for.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵ Tabito Karasu!

His head was resting his head on his thighs. He was in the middle of texting in his little group chat with "the boys"... so corny, but considering he asked to come over to your place cuz he missed you, he isn't showing the "missing" part much. He hasn't paid much attention to you ever since one of his friends sent a text to the group chat and now you were getting bored.

Why not try out this new trend out? Then tease him about it after!

Clicking on the sound and then pressing the record button. You had to record twice because the sound kept finishing before he even got the chance to notice. He was obviously too zoned out with texting to notice, but when he does. He stops mid-typing and then looks up at you, a shit-eating grin on his face. "That what you want right now? I'm down."

"Aren't you busy texting?" You sigh, giving him a faux dirty look, "Seems like you were too occupied with your friends rather than spending time with your girlfriend, who you called to miss, by the way, but as soon as head is mentioned, you pay attention to her?"

He simply shrugs, "Eh, payin' attention to you now, aren't I? Lemme make it up to you then if you're upset 'bout it?"

"No-can-do, bird man. You were busy before texting your mates, ignoring your girlfriend, who says now that head is in the game, that you get to spend time with her?"

"Sooo... you're rejecting have your pussy ate?"

"If the boot fits." He raises an eyebrow and snickers, "Don't know how this is a punishment for me. Seems more like a punishment for you, but aight." he teases, going straight back to texting.

What a prick.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Sae Itoshi

You and him actually had a slight quarrel. For the stupidiest reason really, you guys were literally debating on whether a tomato is a fruit or a vegetable. He kept saying it was a vegetable, and you kept saying it was a fruit. You told him to search it up and turns out, you were correct. He was pissed off about it and you tell him, 'I told you so!', just pissed him off further. So now, the pink-haired man was having a mini hissy fit and ignoring you. You tried to talk to him numerous of times, but he wouldn't budge, and you were getting bored, so you decided to try this new trend out that kept smothering your fyp! You hit record, letting the sound play in the once quiet room. He got caught so off-guard that he forgot he was meant to be ignoring you. He turns to look at you, a dirty look on his face before he speaks up, "I'm mad at you and this is your way of cheering me up?" "Who said I was tryna cheer you up? This is a demand, by the way." "You can't demand for shit. Fuck off."

"Missing out, I guess."

An awkward five minutes later and he doesn't even say anything before he's sat on his knees in front of you, peeling your thighs apart. You smirk down at him, "Change your mind, Mr. Itoshi?"

"Do you ever shut up?"

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Shidou Ryusei! (the bro who claims they aren't gay)

KASPLOOOOOOOSHHHH! Man, you were just bored and wanted play around with your horny ass boyfriend. The two of you were scrolling mindlessly on your phones. He would occasionally show you a meme or two that would cause you both to giggle for a while, but that was it. You got three videos of the same trend in a row, so you took it as a sign, playing the sound and waiting for him to notice. He did, quite quickly, actually. He gives you that notorious smirk, "Shit, baby. Thought you were never gonna do the trend, but ey, guess it's my lucky day huh." His eyes are glimmering in excitement... too much of it actually and you just side eye him. Yeah, you regret doing this trend now. Why is he so excited? His smirk grows, "Don' look at me like thatttt! You're the one who wanted this. Just playin' by your script, ya' know? Nowww... about that head?" he mocks while wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"Don't want it anymore. I rebuke you, you horny ass demon."

"Awww, c'moooonnnn..."

"Fuck no."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Oliver Aiku! (love hate this slut too..)

The trend was all ovvvver your fyp while you were just peacefully scrolling through at three am and it actually made you miss your slutty man bitch boyfriend and also made you very desperate to try the trend out on him, so you invited him over. Now, you guys were in your room, and you thought this was the perfect time to try the trend out! The suddenness of the sound playing from your phone causes him to look away from his phone and right at you. "Yeah? Could've just asked me instead, but eh, still understood in the end. Spread your legs then."

"If I don't?" You taunt him. He raises an eyebrow and gives you a smug smile, "Ahh, but you will. C'mon now, princess."

You must be stupid to deny head, so you oblige.

Decided not to do Kaiser. I don't know much about him. I hate him. I just know it. When I read that damn manga, I know ima hate his stupid ass.

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vaginalvr · 19 days ago

Note

hii, i’ve been reading ur fics for a while now, and i totally love them <3

i have a humble request of my own: bau!reader who has a tramp stamp and a bellybutton piercing, and Spencer is absolutely totally obsessed with them. and then one night, the team gets called in, and reader appears in like a crop top and low-rise jeans (or idk something that reveals them), because she was at a friend’s party or something. and Spencer is trying so hard not to get visibly turned on, and keep it in his pants, cuz they’re at work. but he ultimately pulls her into a storage closet for a quickie or something, before they have to leave for the case.

you can just ignore this though, if this isn’t something you’d be interested in writing, of course :)) have a great day <3

oh how cutie i want a tramp stamp and a belly button piercing now

cw: established relationship, secret relationship, jet sex, bellybutton piercing, tramp stamp kink, low-rise jeans, crop top, desperation, slight dom!Spencer, barely contained lust, unprofessional behavior, fast & dirty smut

REQUESTS OPEN!

You were off-duty when the call came in.

Midway through a Friday night, drink in hand, laughing on a rooftop patio with some old college friends — your crop top riding up, your low-rise jeans barely holding on, and the metal gleam of your bellybutton piercing catching every bit of moonlight.

Your phone buzzed once. Then again. Hotch. Case. Jet in 45.

You groaned and grabbed your stuff, muttering apologies as you slipped out — no time to change. You figured it was fine. You had your go-bag on the plane. Worst case, you’d be underdressed until takeoff.

You did not expect Spencer Reid to completely malfunction when you walked into the hangar.

He was halfway through reciting some case file numbers when he turned and saw you.

The crop top sat like a second skin, hugging your chest, riding high enough to show a dangerous peek of underboob. Your low-rise jeans hugged your hips like a prayer, dipping just enough to reveal the dark ink of your tramp stamp — a design he’d only seen once, in low light, when you’d had too much wine and dared to pull your pants down just far enough to show him in the privacy of his apartment.

And that piercing — the one at your bellybutton, silver and glinting — flashed at him with every step you took.

He forgot how to breathe.

His mouth opened. Closed.

Hotch kept talking. Morgan glanced at Spencer, then at you — and smirked.

“Ohhh, hell,” Morgan muttered under his breath.

Spencer cleared his throat. “Y-you uh—you didn’t go home first?”

“No time,” you said breezily, shouldering your go-bag. “Hope no one minds if I flash some midriff. I’ll change on the jet.”

You winked at him.

He nearly dropped the case file.

You sat across from him on the plane. The table between you might as well have been made of glass. Spencer was twitchy — leg bouncing, lip caught between his teeth, eyes flickering from your waistline to your mouth and back down again.

You leaned back slowly in your seat and stretched your arms overhead.

The crop top lifted. The waistband dipped.

Spencer’s breath audibly caught in his throat.

Morgan made a noise from behind his file that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Emily muttered, “Oh my god, someone just fuck already.”

You turned your head, caught Spencer staring, and smiled slow.

“So, Doctor,” you murmured. “See something you like?”

He snapped the file shut.

“Bathroom. Now.”

The moment the door clicked shut, Spencer pounced.

His mouth was on yours, hot and needy, hands already dragging your top up to expose your tits — palms rough and shaking as he groaned into your neck.

“You can’t just show up like that,” he hissed, rocking his hips into yours. “Wearing that, with your fucking piercing showing, your tattoo right there—” He yanked your waistband down just enough to trace the tramp stamp with his fingers. “You knew what you were doing.”

You bit your lip. “I really didn’t—”

“Liar.”

His hand slid down, cupping your heat through your jeans, and you whimpered.

“You’ve been driving me crazy with this thing,” he muttered, brushing his thumb against your navel ring. “Since the first time I saw it, I can’t stop thinking about it. Wanting to taste it.”

You gasped as he popped the button on your jeans and shoved them halfway down your thighs.

“Spence—there’s no time—”

“There’s just enough.”

He pulled his cock out — hard and flushed and already leaking — then spun you to face the sink.

“Hands,” he ordered, voice hoarse. “Brace yourself.”

You obeyed instantly.

He yanked your panties aside, ran two fingers through your folds, and hissed.

“So fucking wet already,” he groaned. “You love riling me up, don’t you?”

Then he sank into you with one sharp thrust, and you cried out, biting your fist to muffle the sound.

The mirror fogged. The walls rocked. Spencer fucked you like the plane might disappear beneath you — hard, fast, hips slamming into yours while one hand gripped your hip and the other reached around to rub your clit.

“Gonna come,” you panted. “Spencer—”

“That’s it,” he murmured into your neck. “Be good for me. Come all over my cock.”

You did — gasping, legs trembling — and he followed with a stuttered moan, buried deep, hands gripping your waist so hard you knew you’d bruise.

You both stood there after, panting, flushed, clothes a mess.

He looked at you in the mirror.

“You’re still changing before the briefing,” he said, eyes flicking down to the piercing.

You smirked. “Why? Can’t focus?”

His mouth twitched. “Not unless you want me to drag you back in here mid-case.”

You leaned in close, lips to his ear.

“Maybe I do.”

#spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem reader

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planetkiimchi · 10 months ago

Text

sixth time's the charm | w.jh

no. 1 of my 100 followers event (requested)

featuring: coworker!jun x gn!reader

word count: 8832 words

summary — your coworker jun is naturally friendly and a little chaotic, but he also mistakenly thinks you like his crush. this love rivalry persists despite the two of you being friends, at least until he realises that the one he likes is you.

author’s note: thank you to @fairyhaos for beta-ing this, your comments are so appreciated. especially knowing now that you have such high standards for fics, i’m so honoured to receive any sort of compliment from you <3 thank you ara for the request and i hope you enjoy!

Your first day of work was in January, at the tail end of winter. People were trading their thick winter coats for thinner wool sweaters and cotton hoodies, slowly switching back to sneakers instead of the chunky boots they donned in the winter.

The temperature was still cold in the mornings, especially when people were heading to work. The streets were filled with people walking briskly, as staying idle for too long would let the chill seep into one’s bones.

You were no different, a long coat wrapped tightly around your work attire, the most formal you could get. You cracked your knuckles nervously as you came to a hesitant stop in front of an office building, indistinguishable from the surrounding buildings save for the large “JH Corporations” displayed across the front.

Inhaling deeply, you stepped inside.

You were greeted by the warm air of the heated building, and you took in your surroundings as subtly as you could, taking small steps towards the reception desk while your gaze wandered about.

Everyone there seemed to be in a hurry, impatiently bustling past with briefcases, holding onto their laptop cases and thick folders. The constant clicking sound of high heels against the floor seemed to match your heart rate, going tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

You made your way over to the reception desk.

“Good morning!” A cheery voice broke your train of thought, interrupting your anxiously racing thoughts and preventing you from spiralling.

Turning around to face the owner of the voice, you came face to face with a familiar face.

“Wen Junhui?”

The man in question grinned back at you. “Hi!”

So it was him. Junhui—”Call me Jun,” he’d said—had been there at your job interview, which had been done in a group, so both of you were probably starting at a similar level. Logically speaking, that day should also be his first day at work. However, unlike you, he looked a lot more at ease in this large building.

“Excuse me?” The receptionist tried to get your attention, and you blinked quickly before nodding.

“Yes, hi.”

You gave her your name and waited as she searched for your employee pass, before handing it to you, along with directions on how to get to your level.

You thanked her and turned to leave.

“I’m going to level three too, would you like me to show you there?”

Your heart, which had been beating painfully fast ever since you stepped foot into the building, slowed to a reasonable pace as you forced yourself to take a deep breath. Then, turning to face Jun, you smiled slightly.

“That would be great.”

Jun didn’t shut up the entire way to your desk. He looked tidy and well-kept, brown hair parted slightly off-centre, a tie around his neck. His smart black shoes clicked against the floor as he walked, and you noticed his fingernails were trimmed when he reached out to press the lift button.

“Y/n, right?” You nodded absently as Jun talked about this job, how his boss was rather friendly and how excited he was to be able to work in this team setting. Everyone was welcoming so far, and no one had belittled him as of yet.

During the elevator ride, you didn’t manage to get a single word in. Jun just kept on talking, somehow finding ways to fill the silence without you having to say a single thing. When he finally took a breath, you seized the opportunity to ask, “When did you start?”

“Last week! They asked me to come at the beginning of the new year, but I requested to start a week earlier instead, just after the winter solstice, so I could get acquainted a little earlier.”

Oh. That made sense. You briefly wondered why you hadn’t thought to do that yourself, stepping out of the elevator as the door opened onto the third floor.

You followed Jun through what felt like a winding maze of desks, all grey with some attempts at personalisation in the form of white mugs with “I ❤️ DAD” and “This is my fifth cup of coffee” printed across them, and cushions propped up on chairs for comfort.

“... And here’s your desk! Mine’s right across, so you can come over and ask me for help at any time. Just wave, and I’ll come over!” Jun smiled at you expectantly.

“Thanks?” you replied hesitantly.

“No problem!”

Smiling cheerily at you, Jun walked over and took a seat at his desk.

Breathe. You inhaled deeply, taking in your surroundings once more. This time, it felt a lot less scary. Each team had a semi-secluded area, with partitions sectioning off different teams, and your section was a little quiet but very conducive for working in.

The other people in the office had looked up briefly when you walked in, disrupted by Jun’s voice, waving politely at you before looking back down at their computers.

It didn’t seem like much, but you weren’t quite sure what you had been expecting in the first place. Setting your things down, you went over to find your team manager so you could officially start working.

—

Time passed too quickly. Soon enough, the project that the team had just undertaken was already almost half completed, and your working hours grew longer as the daylight stretched longer as well.

The sun set just after six, and you often got off work before then, so you would be home in time for dinner. Upon graduating from university, one of the first things you’d done was rent a house on the outskirts of the central business district.

It wasn’t the cheapest option, but luck was on your side, and the marketing job you had secured was enough to pay your rent.

Life wasn’t particularly luxurious; your flat was small and your meals were simple, but it was comfortable enough. On top of that, your transport fees were lower, since the office was located very close to where you lived.

That day, you were staying in the office a bit longer, staring blankly at the design drawn up on your computer and trying to figure out exactly what was off about it.

There was something about the design that didn’t work, and you intuitively knew that it had to do with the layout and the contrast in the colours of the background and the elements, but you couldn’t put your finger on what it was.

As the graphic designer on the marketing team, your workload was manageable, so this was your first time staying in the office past your stipulated working hours.

You rolled your neck around, hearing it crack, and fought the urge to rub your eyes. You turned the computer off and got up from your seat to take a bathroom break.

When you returned, there was a box of fried rice next to your keyboard.

Picking the box up, you looked around the section to see who had gotten the food. There were three people in the team still present; besides you and Jun, Yueyue was also working overtime that evening.

Yueyue had a reusable lunchbox by her side, and she took a mouthful of noodles into her mouth every once in a while, in between typing furiously on her keyboard.

Her clicks and the sound of her slurping the noodles were the only things disrupting the silence.

Jun was sitting directly opposite you, and he too had an open lunchbox beside him, along with a spoon, and he shovelled rice into his mouth every ten seconds or so. It was a bit strange that both of them had brought food from home, and yet there was takeout on your desk. It was especially strange because you knew you hadn’t ordered it.

As if sensing your confusion—or perhaps due to the fact that you had been standing in front of him for a good few minutes—Jun looked up.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you planning to sit down soon? You’re kind of putting me off by just standing there.”

Oh. Embarrassed, you hurriedly sat down, but not before leaning over and asking, “Do you know who bought this?”, pointing at your own food.

“I did.” He looked back at his screen for a few moments, typed something out quickly, then moved his chair over so his view of you was no longer blocked by the screen.

“Minghao usually buys us food when we work overtime, but his mother’s health isn’t the best, so he took leave today to visit her in the hospital. Yueyue brings her own food, and I’ve started that habit too, but I noticed you hadn’t eaten so I got you something. I hope you don’t mind?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I don’t. Thanks. I’ll pay you back, how much was it?”

Jun reached over to push your phone away. “It’s on me. Minghao even sent me money earlier on to make sure everyone in the team was fed, look.”

He showed you his screen, as if he felt the need to prove it to you, and you scanned Minghao’s texts.

Minghao (Team Manager): Make sure everyone eats well. Minghao (Team Manager): Tell them to go home before 7, it’s dark and cold outside, don’t want anyone falling sick. Minghao (Team Manager): Oh, also, tell Y/n to send me the draft of the advertisement by tonight. Minghao (Team Manager): Thanks.

“Say thank you to Minghao for me.”

Jun shrugged and put his phone away, “Already did.”

As you ate the fried rice, wrist cramping up from drawing the animations for the advertisement on your tablet, your heart felt extremely warm.

—

Becoming more comfortable with the members in your team also translated to becoming careless, it seemed.

One fine spring day, you awoke at eight-thirty to the sound of your ringtone blaring obnoxiously loudly in your ear.

"Please pick up, please pick up–"

"Hello?" you mumbled, voice a little raspy.

"Y/n! We have a meeting in an hour, where are you?"

Shit. You'd completely forgotten to set your alarm for that morning, having turned it off the day before for the Qingming Festival. You hadn't wanted it to ring while you were visiting the cemetery, which coincided with the time you normally woke up at.

To top it all off, after the long day, you'd had to take a long ride back to your flat from your hometown, which was a long way from Beijing.

You must have been so tired that night that you had forgotten to set your alarm.

"I'm still at home, is Minghao there?"

"Yes, and he's getting ready for the meeting already. He looks a bit pissed, you might want to hurry."

"Shit, yeah, okay. If he starts the meeting early, help me stall or come up with an excuse," you said.

Jun muttered something in acknowledgement.

"I'll hang up first, I've got to get ready and hopefully I'll reach on time."

"Hurry!" was the last word you heard Jun say before you hung up the call.

By some miracle, you ended up reaching the office 5 minutes before the meeting, wisps of hair falling into your eyes. You irritatedly pushed them away, taking the time to catch your breath as you turned your laptop on and tried to pull up your documents.

"Come into the meeting room now," Minghao ordered, and the team filed into the meeting room and took their respective seats.

You glared at the loading screen on your laptop, willing it to work more quickly. As Minghao said something about following the timeline and how the team was lagging behind and the client was beginning to get impatient, you did your best to listen and pull up the designs you'd done over the past couple of weeks.

However, luck was not on your side, because Minghao called upon you to present what you had done the moment he finished speaking.

You stood up hesitantly, eyes scanning your screen in a hurry, breathing still a little uneven. “Well…”

Jun let out a soft snort. You stole a glance at him, just in time to see him rolling his eyes before angling his laptop screen towards you.

“This is our advertisement video.”

Minghao took your cue to start playing the video, and you watched as your hard work came to life before your eyes. You’d watched it so many times, rewinding the animations over and over again until it was perfect, that it was no longer shocking to you how smooth the transitions were.

But seeing the video play in its entirety, not stopping every two seconds for you to fix something, you realised that you’d actually done well.

As the video came to an end, you launched into your spiel behind the technical aspect of the design elements, and Jun nodded attentively from his seat. Satisfied with your presentation, Minghao went on to the next person.

“Junhui, since you’re already prepared, tell us about the rest of the campaign and how you plan to manage the small budget we’re working with for this project.”

When Jun finished, Minghao raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Not bad, the two of you are a real match. Always good at thinking on your feet,” he said softly, just loud enough for the two of you to hear.

“A good match?” Jun fought to keep his volume down.

“I’m just saying, you’ve never called me when I was late.”

“Hao, when have you ever arrived any later than 8.30am?”

“It’s just a comparison.”

“I-” Jun threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Minghao shrugged and pointed at Jing Xuan, motioning for her to go next. You squinted at your team manager, then back at Jun, trying to figure out what their exchange could possibly have meant.

Yueyue went last, looking for you for help when she couldn’t recall the right word in Mandarin, and a couple of times you had to correct her pronunciation softly. She took it all in her stride, successfully completing her presentation of the segment she was in charge of.

Minghao ended the meeting with a short briefing on the development of the project and the client’s requirements, and gave updated instructions to each individual on the team.

Once he had finished speaking, the meeting was adjourned. Without hesitation, Jun grabbed Minghao’s hand and all but dragged him out of the meeting room, muttering something that sounded like “We seriously need to talk” as he strode away.

Curious, you did your best to subtly close your laptop and place it on your desk, before walking to the coffee lounge in what you hoped was an innocuous manner and casually inching closer towards the duo.

They were speaking in hushed tones, Jun’s brows furrowed and his tone of voice anxious, while Minghao was as relaxed as ever. In times like that, it was difficult to believe that Jun was a year older than Minghao.

You were a couple of years younger than Minghao, but you had changed jobs a few times, just like Jun, so Minghao was more senior than both of you.

However, Jun never really treated Minghao like a senior, although you could tell Minghao definitely treated Jun like a junior.

“What do you mean we’re a good match?” Jun hissed.

“I mean what I said,” Minghao replied, sipping his coffee.

“They like the girl I like, how could we be a good match?”

Too stunned to process Minghao’s reply, your mind blanked out as you heard Jun’s whispered words. In fact, you were lucky the cup in your hand didn’t shatter to the ground with how shocked you were feeling.

He liked Yueyue?

Yueyue’s English name was Luna, and she had joined the team at the same time that spring began. With her limited Mandarin, she struggled to communicate with the others, mostly electing to keep to herself and using Google Translate to send emails.

Having come from Singapore, your English was as good as Yueyue’s, and you were able to communicate effectively in Mandarin after your four years at university.

As such, for the time being, you basically acted as Yueyue’s translator, often helping her with her conversational Mandarin. Yueyue was a fast learner, and though sometimes she struggled with active recall, she was able to understand most conversations now without having to look the words up.

You hadn’t realised Jun liked her, but thinking back on it, you did remember Jun often looking at her while working, casting her glances when he thought no one else was looking. You recalled the way Jun hesitated before speaking to her, as if he had to gather his courage before speaking to her.

At the time, you’d simply thought it was because Jun’s English was extremely subpar, and the same could be said of Yueyue’s Mandarin, but now you knew it was more than that.

Even that time that Jun bought you dinner, you were fairly certain that he had gotten it for Yueyue, because it had come with a post-it note that was coming off the side, saying, “Enjoy your meal :)”. Jun must have been unsuccessful in removing it after he realised that Yueyue had brought her own food.

The puzzle pieces were all clicking in place, and your mouth invariably formed an ‘O’ shape as it all started to make sense.

Minghao elbowed Jun, jerking his head slightly in your direction. “Y/n’s staring.”

“Can you stop it, please, I—” Jun’s voice cut off as he turned to look at you. You were still deep in thought, and your unfocused gaze just happened to be facing Jun’s direction. “Oh.”

Minghao nodded. “Go on.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “And remember what I said.”

Jun glared at him before standing up straight, leaving Minghao leaning against the counter with his mug of forgotten coffee, walking towards you.

He called your name, and you jerked your hand in surprise, spilling coffee on a stunned Jun.

He looked down at his white shirt in shock, frozen to the spot, and you covered your hand with your mouth. You hurriedly set the mug down, grabbing a bunch of tissue paper and pressing it against his shirt to dry it.

“I’m so sorry, you shocked me, I didn’t mean to stain your shirt. You can pass it to me, I’ll wash it, I’m really sorry—”

Jun called your name again, effectively stopping the flow of words that would have otherwise continued to stream from your mouth.

“Stop, it’s fine. It’s just a shirt, I can wash it myself.”

You opened your mouth in protest, and Jun’s eyebrow lifted ever so slightly. “Didn’t know this shirt mattered so much to you. If you want to wash it so badly, I’ll pass it to you after I’ve changed out of it.”

You could only stare in shock at his retreating back as he turned and left, mouth agape. What had Minghao said to him? It felt like the tectonic plates of your dynamics had shifted, but you wouldn’t quite be able to understand it until much, much later.

The first time.

There was a work party coming up, and you originally intended to ask Yueyue to go with you, if not as your date then as your friend.

Lo and behold, just as you opened your mouth to say “Yue”, Jun beat you to it.

“Y/n, would you do me a favour and be my work spouse for a night?” You furrowed your brows at his strange wording, glancing at Yueyue. The latter looked up, caught your eye, and shrugged helplessly.

“No,” you replied flatly. “Yueyue—”

“Pretty please?” Jun latched onto your wrist, tugging onto it like a little child would.

“No!” You pulled your hand away, shaking it in irritation. “Yueyue, will you please—” Before you could finish your sentence, Jun slapped his hand over your mouth, his other hand clutching your wrist again, preventing you from moving away or speaking.

When you finally struggled out of his grasp, you glared at him, beckoning him closer. As he leaned in, you stood on your tiptoes and hissed into his ear, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want you to go to the party with Yueyue,” he said simply.

“Who I go with is none of your business.”

“Well, both you and Yueyue are my coworkers, so it kind of is.” Then, before you could reply, he said loudly, “Anyway, we’re going together and that’s the end of it. If any of you try to steal my plus-one, you’ll never hear the end of it from me.”

You whipped your head around to see Yueyue’s reaction, and saw her sinking into her chair, the smile on her face dissipating faster than you could blink. Jing Xuan hid her smile behind her hand, calming herself before removing her hand and continuing to work. Minghao had no visible reaction, but his deliberate ignorance was enough.

You were well and truly alone in this struggle with Jun. You took one glance at your gleeful colleague, sighing in defeat.

—

By the time the work party rolled around, it was already summer. You decided to pack your outfit, leaving it hanging by your desk throughout the workday. Sometime early in the afternoon, Jun got up from his seat, collected the suit he’d hung next to the coffee machine, and glanced at Yueyue.

She was too absorbed in her work to notice. Jun scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and you subtly cleared your throat. “Yueyue,” you called softly.

She finally looked up, raising both her eyebrows at you. “Yes?”

You looked pointedly at Jun and jerked your head slightly in his direction. “He’s trying to talk to you.”

“Oh,” she replied, sounding surprised.

Jun smiled hesitantly at Yueyue, “Do you want to go get changed? Then we can take a taxi to the hotel together.” As he spoke, he moved his hands, pointing first at himself, then at Yueyue. His limbs felt longer than they usually seemed, and he looked like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.

Before Yueyue could reply, you cleared your throat again, causing both of them to turn towards you.

“Are you not inviting me to hitch a ride?”

Jun’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Then, he and Yueyue spoke at the same time:

“No.”

“Yes.”

The two glanced at each other, and turned back to you.

“Yes.”

“No.”

Jun caved first, hissing in irritation, saying, “Whatever. As long as Yueyue’s fine with it.”

The person in question smiled warmly at you, and nodded in reassurance. “Sure, you can come with us.”

As Yueyue stood up, you locked gazes with Jun, smiling triumphantly at him.

—

The ride there was tense. Not entirely because you’d figuratively shoved your way into the car, although you suspected that might be a big part of the reason. No, for some reason unbeknownst to you, the typically outspoken Jun had turned silent, nervously glancing at Yueyue from time to time.

Seated in the passenger seat, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at the two behind you from time to time, and yet nothing changed throughout the entire ride.

Jun kept looking down at his hands, playing with his fingers, and Yueyue stared out the window mindlessly.

You debated trying to strike up a conversation, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, the taxi came to a halt. Looking out the window, you noticed that the hotel that had been booked for this party was much, much fancier than you had imagined.

The imposing building stood apart from the plain buildings around it, the stairs leading up to the entrance all lit up. The evening had just begun, and the sun was beginning to set, and the lights drew attention to the hotel.

Inwardly, you sighed in relief that you had chosen one of the more elegant items of clothing in your wardrobe to wear that night, because you were sure that being underdressed would have ruined your whole night.

Too caught up in admiring the grandness of the hotel, you didn’t make a move to step out of the car until Jun opened the door for you, and you stepped out. It seemed only natural to take his hand, although the moment your hand was in Jun’s, you realised that it might be overstepping slightly.

Jun’s hand was warm, enveloping your smaller hand in it completely. Yueyue came to stand behind you, amazed by the scale of the event.

“Let’s go in,” Jun suggested, and you nodded dumbly, following him inside.

Seeing Minghao eased everyone’s nerves a little, and soon there was a small congregation of five near the entrance, all keeping a close watch on the rest of your colleagues.

Since you often came to work in a sectioned-off area, and only worked closely with your teammates, you didn’t recognise any of your other colleagues. However, you couldn’t say the same for Jun.

As an elaborately-dressed young man walked past you, Jun seemed to recognise him, waving hello. Minghao could see that Jun was itching to socialise, and urged the rest of you to find people to talk to as well, leaving with a reassuring smile and a pat on your back.

You stuck to Yueyue like glue, the two of you acting like outsiders in this unfamiliar environment that was far out of your comfort zone, until someone Yueyue knew walked by and struck up a conversation with her. Not wishing to be the third wheel, you watched them walk off, standing awkwardly by the side and wishing the time would pass faster.

Fortunately for you, a kind soul noticed you standing on your own and came over, casually asking for your name and which team you were in. The man, Kun, had a warm face and a comforting voice, easily calming you down.

Halfway through a rather engaging conversation about stocks, you felt the need to visit the restroom, and looked around for someone to help you hold your things.

You would have gone to one of your teammates, but Yueyue and Minghao were having a heated discussion with a group of unfamiliar people, and Jing Xuan was nowhere to be found. Of course, there was Jun, but he flitted from group to group without giving you a chance to catch up to him.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom, clutching your purse. Before you could leave, Kun reached out and offered to help you hold your things, and you thanked him with an embarrassed smile.

When you came out of the bathroom, you were greeted by an unhappy Jun.

He was standing in the corridor in front of the bathroom, not even on his phone, simply holding your purse and staring at the doorway, waiting for you to emerge.

You had been expecting to see Kun waiting there, prepared to thank him once more. Instead, the person awaiting you was Jun, and the lack of a smile on his face was disconcerting to say the least.

You couldn’t remember a time you hadn’t seen Jun smile. He had a pleasant disposition and a happy-go-lucky attitude, so seeing him with a poker face was a rare sight.

You reached to take your purse from him without a word, but his grasp on it only tightened as your fingers brushed against his.

“Why didn’t you come find me to help you hold your things?” he asked, volume soft but tone threatening.

You shrugged. “Kun offered to help me before I could go to find you.”

“We’re here together,” Jun insisted. “You’re acting like you hate me.”

You raised your eyebrows, slowly appraising him. “Oh, really? Funny, that’s exactly the same sentiment I received earlier, when you outright refused to let me take the same fucking taxi as you. Is being in my presence such a horrifying thought that you would refuse to take the same car as me after asking me to be your plus-one, deliberately preventing me from getting the date I wanted?”

Stunned, Jun’s grip on your purse loosened, and you shouldered your purse and turned to leave. He grabbed your wrist, and you whipped your head around to glare at him, causing him to immediately let go.

“I’m sorry.”

You stood there, not speaking, but the fact that you weren’t leaving was enough for Jun to continue, “I didn’t mean to upset you. Yes, I wanted to go with Yueyue alone, and yes, I ruined your chance to ask her, and yes, it’s hypocritical of me to expect you to act nicely towards me when I’ve been nothing but an asshole this evening.”

“You left the team first, so anxious to talk to that friend of yours that you didn’t even spare the rest of us a second glance,” you accused.

Jun shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded curtly in acknowledgement, ready to leave, but Jun called out your name before you could take a single step.

“You can join me for the rest of the evening if you want. Since we’re supposed to be together for the night.”

You looked at him slowly, taking in his pose, rocking on his feet, thumbs stashed into his pockets. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, and some sadistic part of you felt glad you were making him feel that way.

After a long moment of deliberation, you nodded. “Sure.”

The second time.

Jun introduced you as his work spouse for the rest of the night. The first few times, you raised your eyebrows in shock, meeting his mischievous gaze, and his disarming grin told you to leave it be.

So you did, not even batting an eyelash when he proudly showed you off for the rest of the night, your heated conversation from earlier almost forgotten.

You supposed that was one of his charm points, that he didn’t hold grudges. Jun had a forgiving personality, and it made interacting with him comfortable and easy.

As the night passed, your eyelids started drooping, and it became increasingly difficult to pay attention to the conversation topic at hand. Bidding goodbye to a few of your colleagues, you took some time to stand by the side, hiding your yawn behind your hand.

“Tired?” Jun asked, accompanied by a soft laugh.

You nodded. “I think I’ll head home soon.”

“I’ll send you home.”

You cocked your head at him, then shook your head. “There’s no need, you should stay if you want to.”

At that, Jun scoffed, then shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I’d rather not. Besides, it’s not like I would understand what they’re saying without you to translate; their use of technical jargon is way out of my vocabulary range. This entire night, I’ve been piecing together the meaning of their words from your replies.”

You laughed to yourself. “Really?”

Jun nodded. “I’m serious. Anyway, it’s dark outside; you shouldn’t go home alone.”

The corners of your lips lifted, “Didn’t know Wen Junhui was such a gentleman.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

You elected to ignore that sentence, turning on your heel to leave, and Jun chased after you, matching your long strides. Outside, you hailed a car, and Jun rushed to open the door for you.

You hesitated just a second before stepping into the car. Earlier that evening, you’d assumed that Jun had opened the door for you out of formality, because Yueyue was present and he was getting into character for having to spend a night with you.

However, with a night so bleak and the dim glow of the streetlights barely lighting up the roads, there was no one to see his actions then, and everything he was doing was just between the two of you.

Perhaps he really was a gentleman, and it was out of habit that he opened the door for you. You wouldn’t know.

Because Jun was right. There was a lot you didn’t know about him.

The third time.

That incident remained at the back of your mind as concerns about the project wrapping up took priority, especially when finishing the tail-end of the promotions. You were often busy working, and had little time to spare to think about other things.

By then it was summer, and it often rained in the afternoons. Sometimes it only drizzled lightly, and sometimes the thunderstorms were so loud that you could feel your eardrums vibrating.

That day it started out drizzling lightly in the morning. At first, you thought nothing of it, expecting it to stop raining by evening. However, an hour or so before you got off work, it was still pouring outside. The rain didn’t seem like it will stop soon, and you sighed in resignation. You'd foolishly hoped that the rain would have stopped after pouring the whole afternoon, so you'd be able to get home without getting soaked.

However, you were almost about to leave, and yet the rain was still pouring ceaselessly down. You rummaged through your bag for an umbrella.

Even though your hands were occupied, something at the back of your mind told you that you'd forgotten to put the umbrella in your bag this morning. Your search proved futile, and you recalled seeing the umbrella resting on the shoe rack that morning, but you had no memory of putting it into your bag.

You ran through the options in your mind. You could make a dash for it—the building wasn’t too far away from the bus stop—but you didn’t particularly feel like taking the bus home while soaking wet. The other option was waiting it out, but you hadn’t had dinner yet and you were absolutely famished.

You inhaled through gritted teeth, mentally preparing yourself to run through the rain, when a voice cut through your thoughts.

"Are you walking to the bus stop?"

You locked eyes with Jun, who'd just asked the question, and nodded.

"I'm walking there too, shall we go together? We could share an umbrella," he said.

Oh. You felt a ripple of warmth spreading through your body. He'd noticed. You swallowed and nodded. "That would be great. Thanks."

To be honest, you weren’t sure what to think of the gesture. Jun was nicer to you lately, and whatever odd tension between the two of you that had laced your interactions had died down too. You still talked to Yueyue, but more for work than any other reason. Jun, too, seemed to be taking it easy, reducing his attempts at chasing her.

Jun stood up, closing his laptop, and you kept your things as well. He came over to you, umbrella in hand, which caused Minghao to look up from his seat.

“Leaving so early?” This sentence was directed at Jun.

“Yeah. Gotta send my work spouse home, they forgot to bring an umbrella.”

You rolled your eyes at the term, but Minghao didn’t even flinch. “Okay, don’t get too wet.”

Tilting his head, Jun gestured for you to follow him out.

It was a silent walk to the bus stop, both of you all too aware of your proximity to each other, trying not to step too far out of the umbrella for fear of getting soaked. The sky was dark, covered by clouds, and the floor was slippery, so you had to take great care not to slip.

Jun maintained a small gap between the two of you, tilting the umbrella slightly to your side, but when you finally reached the bus stop, both of you were dry.

“Thanks.”

Jun looked up from the umbrella, smirking when he saw the grudging expression on your face. “No problem.”

The fourth time.

When Minghao said you would be going on a trip together as a team, you weren’t expecting that to entail camping in the middle of the woods—”Nature reserve, Y/n, I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve said that already”—and definitely not when you realised you’d have to put up your tents by yourselves.

Not that you were incapable of putting up a tent, but you weren’t keen on the idea of sleeping without a mattress. With your terrible posture and the way you kicked in the night, you could already foresee the backache that would result from this wonderful idea.

At least it was summertime, so you wouldn’t have to worry so much about freezing to death. Minghao and Jun were sharing a tent, of course, because there had never been much to debate about that. Yueyue and Jingxuan were sharing the other 2-person tent, which meant you were left with the smallest tent to yourself. Fortunately, you didn’t mind.

Putting up the tents was a two-person job, and you were embarrassed to admit that you needed help doing it. Obviously, stubborn as you were, you’d tried to set it up by yourself, but trying to place the groundsheet on the ground with only two hands was difficult. You could only hold two corners at a time, and the material of the groundsheet made it such that it kept creasing in ways you didn’t expect, so after a few minutes of trying, you eventually gave up.

You helped Yueyue and Jingxuan fit the tent poles through the loops of the tent, the three of you cheering when the tent started to take shape. Once the tent and flysheet were secured, you asked them to help you set up your tent, only to realise Minghao was the only one setting up his and Jun’s tent. Jun was standing behind you, watching the three of you awkwardly, grinning crookedly at Yueyue when she turned to face him.

Rolling your eyes, you went over to help Minghao.

Minghao raised his eyebrows when you came over, starting to speak before your hands even touched the pegs.

“I’m extremely particular about these sorts of things, by the way. That’s why Jun’s not helping me. So if you do something that I don’t like, there’s a high chance I’ll just undo it and redo it myself.”

You shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Also, please put the pegs in well, because I’d prefer to not have to wake up in the middle of the night to find my entire tent blown away.”

You nodded. “Sure.”

After a moment of silence, you tugged at the loops at the bottom of the tent, wiggling the tent pegs deeper into the ground. You packed the soil into the holes you’d made, shaking the pegs to check that they were secure, and stood up with a triumphant smile.

Minghao made his rounds, adjusting the flysheet. Hands on his hips, he walked one round around the tent, inspecting every small bit, using his shoes to check that the pegs were secure. Satisfied, he looked to you with grudging approval.

“Not bad.”

You smiled to yourself, knowing that in Minghao’s dictionary, that was a high-level compliment. Turning back to your own tent, you noticed that Jun and Yueyue were almost done setting it up.

You would have gone over to help, but you didn’t want to interrupt. You turned back to Minghao, who was already climbing into his tent and unpacking his luggage.

“Need help?” you asked Yueyue, deliberately choosing to use English because you knew Jun wouldn’t understand.

She shook her head. “We’re good, I think.”

You glanced at Jun, who was biting his lip in concentration as he slotted the bendy tent pole ends into each other until the tent began to take shape.

“Jun? I can take over from here, you should go ahead and unpack.”

Jun’s head whipped up, and he glared at you for a moment before realising Yueyue was watching him. “I don’t have much to unpack,” he replied simply.

“You sure? I saw how big your luggage is.”

“It’s fine, I can help Yueyue for a little longer.”

“Actually…” The two of you turned your attention to Yueyue, who continued, “I think I need to unpack. I’ll leave the two of you to it?”

You smiled warmly at her. “Go ahead.”

“Yue…” Jun’s voice trailed off as she walked away, glaring at you fiercely.

You pretended not to notice as you focused only on getting your tent up, and once it was set up, you finally paid attention to the way Jun was staring at you. He stood on his tiptoes to tie the knot that secured the tent poles to the flysheet, then stalked over to you.

“Y/n, what the fuck—” The moment the curse word left his lips, Jun looked almost apologetic. He pressed his lips together, silent for a moment, before deciding to continue. “Why would you purposely ask her to leave? We were doing fine, we’re literally helping you set up your tent, I don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what? I just reminded her that she still had to unpack.”

“It won’t take that long, don’t play dumb. It’s still bright, and we both know Minghao always gives enough time for everything. It wouldn’t kill her to start unpacking later.”

You shrugged, your gaze slanting towards the other tent. “Tell her that yourself, it’s not like I told her to leave.”

“Cut the crap, Y/n. Why are you acting like this? I thought we were friends.”

“Why am I sabotaging your attempts to hit on her, you mean? I'm not trying to. I’d just prefer it if you didn’t do it while setting up my tent.”

“I-” Just then, Minghao tapped both of your shoulders, jerking his head towards the centre of all the tents. He looked pointedly at Jun for a few moments, then left without saying anything.

“I’m going to set up a fire,” Jun said. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Maybe,” you muttered unhappily under your breath.

—

After dinner, which was cooked over the fire—definitely an experience—the five of you sat by the fire, admiring the orange-red sunset. As the sun disappeared on the horizon, the temperature grew colder, and everyone subconsciously shifted their chairs closer to the crackling fire, jackets wrapped tightly around themselves as they extended their fingers towards the glowing flame.

When all the conversation topics had been exhausted, so was Jingxuan, as evidenced by her sudden yawn. Claiming that it was time for her to turn in, she got up. Not wanting to leave her alone, Yueyue took her leave as well. That left you, Minghao and Jun by the fire, moving your chairs so each had a warm spot.

“Y/n?” You glanced at Jun, bracing yourself for the argument you felt was sure to follow. You were naturally argumentative, there was no denying it, and though Jun wasn’t one to start an argument, he always wanted to win them.

You jerked your head in acknowledgement, waiting for him to continue.

“Are we friends?”

You frowned. That wasn’t what you’d been expecting at all. “Yes?” you replied tentatively, unsure where this was heading.

“Do you like Yueyue?”

You almost laughed. “No.” You didn’t and would never like her that way, probably. She was nice enough, but not exactly your type. You weren’t sure where Jun had got that notion from, but he seemed to be clinging on to that thought since you first joined the company all of 8 months before.

“Then what’s your deal? It feels like you’re doing this on purpose, trying to keep me away from her. If you like her, and she likes you back, fine. I’ll stop pursuing her. But you don’t even like her, so I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

You pursed your lips together, trying to identify the feelings messing up your head, like water after a dirty paintbrush was dipped into it.

Jun looked at you earnestly, eyes wide as he awaited your reply. After a moment of silence, you shrugged helplessly. “I can’t say what it is. But you’re right, I’m being unreasonable. So, how about this: I’ll leave the two of you be if you don’t flirt right in front of my face, deal?”

Jun stuck out his hand, adding, “You’re still my work spouse, right?”

Taking his hand, you nodded. “Sure.”

Just then, an ear-piercing shriek sounded in the otherwise quiet camping place, and the three of you gathered around the fire stood up simultaneously. Minghao was the fastest to get to Jingxuan and Yueyue’s tent, and the two of them ran out of the tent, Jingxuan’s face white with fear.

“There was a rat!” she cried out. “I swear it bit my fucking toe.”

Upon hearing this, Jun looked rather faint. You moved to help Jingxuan get her shoes, bringing her to the campfire to take a seat first. Yueyue helped Jun to sit down, and you left the three of them to get jackets for Yueyue and Jingxuan.

Meanwhile, Minghao took his phone and turned the flashlight on, inspecting the tent and the area around it.

He came back a couple of minutes later, having ascertained that the rat was gone, but by then everyone had grown comfortable and too tired to move. Jingxuan and Jun were fast asleep, heads propped up on their fists, and you watched Yueyue carefully.

Her hands were shoved into the depths of her pockets, her lips forming a pout absentmindedly, hair tucked behind her ears.

Yueyue tapped Jun’s shoulder to rouse him, and the two of you guided your half-asleep colleagues into their tents before everyone finally fell asleep.

The fifth time.

By then it was autumn, and September was drawing to a close. It was an ordinary work day, a couple of hours before lunch, and Jun suddenly stood up, rummaged through his bag, before procuring a card from his wallet and stalking over to Minghao’s desk.

“You busy?” Minghao nodded without looking up. Jun placed the card on his desk, saying, “I’m using this.” Minghao barely spared the card a second glance before saving his progress and getting up from his seat, gesturing for Jun to follow.

The two of them entered the meeting room, your gaze following them curiously. You met Jingxuan’s eyes, both of you just as confused as each other.

You stood up, walking over to Minghao’s desk, examining the card left behind on the desk. It said, in Minghao’s neat handwriting, “15 minutes of my time. Use whenever.”

You furrowed your brows, placing the card carefully back to where it had been before, heading back to your seat.

Jun and Minghao exited the room not long after, Jun looking conflicted. You followed him with your eyes as subtly as you could, watching as Minghao sat in his seat, looking at the card on the table and furrowing his brows. Looking up, he met your gaze, tilting his head.

Shit. Had you not put the card back properly? How did Minghao know? But to your surprise, your team manager didn’t speak, smirking before returning the card to Jun.

“Team drinks later after work,” he announced, not as a question. The other members of the team looked up briefly, nodded, then returned to their work. You continued to watch Jun sit at his desk, bury his head in his hands, then mess up his hair in frustration.

Then, as if nothing had happened, he opened his laptop and began to work.

—

That evening, the five of you sat at the front of the bar, talking between drinks. After Jingxuan’s story about her landlord drastically inflating the rent when he found out that Jingxuan and her roommate were splitting the costs, you recalled an incident you had just had.

A couple of weeks ago, you’d seen a stray cat on the streets, and decided to take it in. You’d since taken it to the vet for a proper check-up, and had made an appointment for it to get spayed. The only issue was that your landlord didn’t allow tenants to keep pets, and you weren’t sure you could keep it a secret when she came over to check.

“Come stay with me,” Jun said. His tone was teasing, but when you looked at him, his gaze seemed earnest, burning into you with his sincerity. The way he said it, it wasn’t really a question.

“I mean it. If you need a place to stay, come stay with me.”

Normally you would tease him for how serious he was being, but something about the fraught silence and the surrounding atmosphere stopped you from making fun of him. Instead, you watched him carefully, never breaking eye contact, and nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

“Lighten up, my work spouse. You’re acting like we haven’t known each other for a year already,” he said, already back to his old self. You only nodded in reply.

Bonus: the time where he leaves out the “work”.

When you first joined the company, little did you expect that three years down the road, you’d end up waking up next to the man you’d met at your interview, the one with brown hair and dark eyes and a sharp smile.

It had started out with him liking your friend, with tensions here and there due to both of your stubborn tendencies. Your personalities clashed often, resulting in disagreements that turned everyone’s moods sour.

However, you were still mature adults, and after a period of working together, you learned to be more accommodating of his differing opinions and habits and vice versa. Through the shared bonding over working overtime and walking home in the rain, you grew from mere colleagues into friends, growing close enough to talk about more than just the latest project you were working on.

Of course, growing from friends into lovers was slightly more complicated, and you had Minghao to thank for helping you along.

You never realised, but Minghao was the first to notice that you were starting to like Jun. If it weren’t for Minghao subtly helping Jun to grow closer to you, the rivalry may have extended for a far longer period of time than just a few months. Especially with the misguided notion that you liked his crush, Jun would not have been as willing to be your friend without Minghao’s constant nudging.

Almost a year after you had met, before getting drinks together and Jun’s fateful statement that led to the two of you moving in together, Jun had realised that he liked you.

He liked you, not Yueyue. The realisation had been startling, and in a daze, he’d used the card Minghao had given him for his birthday to ask for Minghao’s attention. In those 15 minutes in the meeting room, Jun had voiced out his concerns and desperately asked Minghao for some form of advice.

Jun later told you that Minghao’s answer then had been a simple, “I think you like Y/n.”

Having been in denial for so long, it took Jun a while to realise that his feelings for Yueyue had slowly dissipated over time, and that the lingering sentiments were only platonic, whereas his feelings for you had only grown.

Minghao had offered a simple solution to ease Jun’s heavy heart—drinks with the team. Unbeknownst to him, this action had led to Jun’s implied confession and indirectly caused the two of you to finally get together.

Jun snuggled into your embrace, interrupting your thoughts, nuzzling the underside of your chin and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

”Good morning,” you whispered softly, fingers running through his soft hair. He looked up at you briefly, as if checking over every feature of your face, before nodding in satisfaction and shutting his eyes again.

A peaceful smile came over his face, the blissful expression on his face causing you to smile as well.

”You should marry me,” he mumbled, hands tightening around your waist.

”That’s sudden. Where’s the ring?” You teased.

”Haven’t bought it yet,” he frowned. “But if you don’t say yes, then I wouldn’t have to return it.”

You let out a little laugh. Practical as always. “And if I say yes?”

Eyes still closed, he reached over you to the bedside table, fingertips trailing to the first drawer. He pulled it open, and you turned your head to look. There, sitting on top of your favourite books was a nondescript black velvet box. “Pass it to me,” he said, blinking his eyes slowly open.

You passed it to him without a word and he scrambled to sit up in the bed, both knees tucked under him in a kneeling fashion, opening the box to reveal a ring with a silver band, with a small jewel atop it.

”You said you don’t like fancy things, right?”

Struck speechless, you didn’t protest as he gently took your left hand, slipping the ring onto your fourth finger. He pulled your head in towards his chest, kissing the top of your head.

Just like that, Jun’s proposal to you was as simple and direct as the time when he asked you to move in, less of a question than a request, one that you would gladly agree to.

#k-labels #🪁 — my works #📸 — the media #jun #jun x gn!reader #jun x reader #jun x yn #jun x y/n #jun x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen x yn #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x gn!reader #kpop fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt x you #svt x yn #svt x gn!reader #svt x y/n

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melthegoblin · 9 months ago

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New Rehab program

Shigaraki x Reader

~ You're the very last therapist that the law has sent to "help" Shigaraki Tomura. All Might is the one who recommended you but the thing is, you have to be roommates with the villain ~

Warnings: You have anxiety and skin picking problems (Not mentioned in this text but will be in next parts)

"Young Shimura is in his bedroom, forgive him but I do not think that he will come to meet you."

You simply nodded at the blonde 7ft tall man. Even though he wasn't in his "buff form", he looked huge nonetheless. "I understand, I'm like, what, the 10th therapist he's seeing in the span of 2 months?"

All Might offered a little smile as an apology. "Yes, but I believe it will work this time. I have faith"

You showed a weak smile, that was totally not stressful at all. The former Symbol of Peace was trusting the rehabilitation of the biggest villain of Japan into your hands. Yeah, noooo pressure.

In front of the apartment where Shigaraki lived, All Might gave you the keys and reminded you that Tomura couldn't do anything since he was wearing a necklace that was deactivating his quirk. Which reassured you, because your quirk couldn't do anything against his. But if he tried attacking you, while wearing that necklace, you'd be fine.

Your quirk consisted of enhancing your reflexes, you could dodge pretty much anything or anyone. You couldn't read their movements, but your body warned you everytime something dangerous would occur. It also helped a lot whenever you dropped something, multiple glasses of water weren't broken to this day.

All Might eventually left and you took a deep breath, you hadn't realized it earlier but you were shaking a little. Who wouldn't? You were going to become the new roommate of the worst criminal in all of Japan.

You unlocked the door and walked in with your luggages. To your surprise, the place was neat. You wouldn't need to clean on your first day, how great!

You looked around and realized that there was no one in sight. In all honesty, you didn't know how this new rehab program worked, should you tell him you were there? So he wouldn't jolt if he ever laid his eyes on you? Tightening the grip on your backpack, you shakily walked forward and closed the door behind you. "Hello?" Your voice trembled. "Um.. I'm your new roommate" Nothing happened, maybe you should've said you were the new therapist? Though, being the 10th one in the span of 2 months, you didn't think he'd care.

"Well.. I guess I'll put my stuff in the room.." You sighed to yourself, a bit relieved that he didn't directly jumped on you to try to kill you or something.

You removed your shoes and spotted a bright red pair of sneakers, they were too big to fit you. Maybe they were his? They looked almost new, guess he didn't go outside that much. You put your shoes next to them and walked towards the hallway. Based on what All Might had said, your bedroom was at the end of it and on the left.

The left door was wide open, and from what you could see inside, there was only a bed and a desk. You guessed that it was yours then, since it was empty. Right in front of your bedroom was a closed door, from the inside, you could hear noises. Mostly fast clicking and music. The sound was similar to when you used the buttons on a controller. You weren't unfamiliar with video games, but with your job, you didn't have that much time to play anymore.

Maybe you could play a bit today, you weren't planning on giving a therapy anyways as you would give yourself some time to unpack.

It was around 6pm when you were almost done unpacking most of your stuff. You just couldn't focus on that anymore when your stomach kept screaming that it was hungry. You sighed and got up. Fine, you'll eat, even if you would've preferred to finish placing your stuff first but your belly was being annoying.

Walking out of your new bedroom, you realized that Shigaraki's door was still closed. He only went to the bathroom once but you never saw him. You were inside your closet, folding clothes when you heard his bedroom door close. Maybe it was a missed opportunity, but you didn't want to force him either.

You entered the kitchen and looked inside the fridge and cupboards. After a few minutes of searching, you eventually decided to make some donburi for you and some for him too. Usually, you'd make food for yourself alone but you lived with someone now so, you thought about his stomach.

Multiple minutes later, as you were still cooking, you turned around and jolted very badly. Luckily, you didn't drop anything due to your quirk, but Shigaraki Tomura was standing right behind the kitchen island, staring at you.

Shigaraki was a bit taller than you, his scarlet eyes were almost hidden behind his long white locks. He was glaring at you like you didn't belong here, and truth to be told, you also felt like you didn't belong here either. But it was your job and you needed the money to pay for your bills.

You silently stared back, what were you supposed to do? Your breathing and heartbeat increased as you felt anxious in his company, but you tried your best to remain calm.

"H-Hey, uh, I'm… making dinner… It's.." You turned to look at the pot on the oven, then back at him. "..Not ready yet.." You almost talked in whispers, your throat wasn't able to talk louder, you were just too anxious. "Y-You like donburi?"

He didn't answer, instead he just walked back to his bedroom.

Well.. That was going to be interestingly awkward.

At least, he didn't try to kill you..

During the next week, you just calmly lived your life and Shigaraki lived his. He didn't do much except locking himself into his bedroom and sometimes walking out to go to the bathroom.

The second week was more.. Rough.

The young man had decided to threaten and provoke you.

You, personally, didn't know why.

But him? He was already sick of you. Why weren't you forcing him into therapy sessions? That was more than annoying, all the other therapists were just tossing him onto the couch and forced him to have a therapy. But you never did, why?

One day, it just slipped out of his mouth. "Why aren't you doing shit?"

He was standing at the edge of the living room, his hands in his hoodie's pocket. He was fuming, you could easily see it in his body language. Yet, sitting on the floor as you played your favourite video game, you only confusedly glanced back. You put your game on pause and turned to him. "What do you mean..? I've been cooking, cleaning-"

Tomura quickly interrupted you. "I'm not talking about those, idiot. Why the hell aren't you doing your job?"

You tilted your head to the side, slightly scared and still confused. "..You want a therapy?"

His expression switched for a second, you would've missed it if you had blinked. "Obviously not" He snarled.

"Then.. W-Why are you asking? Why would I force you?" You tried your best to stay calm as you weren't sure how he would react if he'd get mad. "My job is to help people, sure, but if you don't want any help, I can't do anything." You took a deep breath as he would probably not like how you would word what was next. "It's your problem, not mine. I can only do something, if you, want to get helped"

Tomura blinked, he looked surprised at your answers for a few seconds before he stormed back to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

You also blinked, not really understanding what was going on.

In the past two weeks, he had never talked to you this much. Were you progressing? Maybe.. Maybe not.

Part 2

Pt 3

#shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #mha #bnha #tenko shimura #tenko x reader

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fandomnerd9602 · 2 months ago

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Tiger/Spider (4)

Ava Ayala / White Tiger x Spider-Man!Reader

The clock was nearing midnight. Muse stood on top of the Kirby-Lieber Building construction site, his eyes locked on the Ayala family who he had strung up by a cable high above the concrete ground.

“You should rejoice” he intoned to the family you held so dear. “Whether it’s splattered upon the pavement or not, you shall be witnesses to my magnum opus. My masterpiece”

“Artists are remembered after they’re dead, asshat” Angela remarks.

Muse approaches the crane lever, “one more word and I’ll drop you early. Soon enough my targets will be here. Spider Man and the White Tiger”

Angela’s eyes went wide.

You, Ava, Matt and Luke Cage pulled up outside the construction site in Frank’s old beat up black van.

Matt readies his batons, “(Y/N) and I will distract Muse.”

“I’ll get my family” Ava states.

“And I’ll work on helping Spidey and DD get Muse into position” Luke cracks his knuckles. “Looks like Christmas is coming early this year”

Muse spotted you and the Defenders approaching.

“Luke Cage,” he muttered, “I have just the solution”

Muse pulled out a small detonator and clicked it. Boom! The entire corner support seam on the bottom floor exploded.

“Muse is trying to bring down the whole building!” Ava yelled.

Luke ran to the falling support beam and wedged himself underneath. “Go!” He said through gritted teeth. “Get the hostages and get out fast!”

With little time to think, you grabbed Ava and webbed a line to the top floor. You began running up the side of the building. Ava jumped off your back, using the claws in her gloves as leverage, running up the side of the building with you.

Matt shot up a grappling line and made his way up too.

You speak into your comm set, “the plan hasn’t changed. Moving to phase two!”

“Copy” the gruff military voice of Frank Castle spoke.

You and Ava landed on the top floor and readied yourselves. Muse held the release button for the cable holding the Ayala family. Angela’s eyes went wide when she saw Ava decked out in the full costume. Even with the mask on, Angela knew it was her cousin under there.

“Spider-Man and the White Tiger.” Muse calmly said. “You kept your end of the deal”

“Now keep yours” you growled. “Deliver the Ayala family to me safely”

“I never said that I’d deliver them safely. They are still part of my magnum opus”

Click! The cable holding the Ayala family released. Time slowed down for you and Ava. Both of you took off in a mad sprint. You charged at Muse. Ava ran right for her family.

Ava dived into the open air, grabbing the cable with one hand and throwing a grappling line to the crane above. The sudden stop of holding both wire and family nearly ripped her arms out. Ava screamed in pain but she was not about to let her family fall.

You attacked Muse with all the fury of a man who lost everything. You punched him several times in rapid succession. You webbed a steel pipe to you and smacked him square in the chest with it, screaming at the top of your lungs. Muse pulled out a gun and shot. You slammed that pipe into his arm and disarmed him.

However the bullet careened towards Ava, narrowly missing her but breaking off a piece of her mask.

Ava winced a little as half of the mask fell past her family and towards the city below. Her eyes wandered down to her family. Their eyes all looked back up at her.

“Ava” Tia Soledad look at Ava in utter shock. Angela looked to her cousin with tears of joy.

Ava gave them a nod, “hold on!”

Matt jumped up from the side of the building and began fighting Muse with you. The two of you covered each others’ weak spots and slammed your fists repeatedly into the artist, pushing him towards the side of the building.

The cable began slipping from Ava’s grasp, the metal biting into Ava’s fingers. She looked around and saw the story below her had an open window.

“Don’t clench up!” Ava said as she swung with all her might before letting go of the cable. Her family screamed they were flung right thru the open window and landed safely.

Ava landed a split second later and helped untie them. Soledad hugged Ava close, crying as she saw her face.

“Mi tigresa” Soledad gently whispered through her tears. Angela just hugged her cousin tightly.

“I’m gonna get you all out of here” Ava gently guided them towards the construction site elevator, setting it for the first floor “I’ll explain everything later! I promise”

You and Matt kept wailing on Muse. Muse slammed his foot into Matt’s kneecap, breaking his leg.

Muse sliced you clean across the chest with his knife, throwing you off balance. He grappled Matt and threw him clear away from you.

Muse tackled you to the floor of the construction site.

Muse wrapped his fingers around your throat, squeezing the life out of you.

“Did you really think you could take on the greatest artist in the modern age?” Muse growls, “with a little fist fight?”

“It…was…never that,” you say, you could feel your eyes practically bulging out of your skull. “I was just the distraction.”

Muse looked in confusion. A red dot appeared on his chest.

The next building over, Frank Castle laid there in sniper shooting stance, his 50cal rifle locked and loaded.

“You’ve been punished, motherf—“

Blam!! The bullet careened thru the night air and hit Muse square in the chest, ripping a hole through his heart.

Muse stumbled, his breathing became labored. Ava ran in and kicked him square in the stomach.

The “artist” was sent flying off the edge of the building. His body landed right in the nearby spiked fence. Muse could only look at his own blood as it spilt out. “B-Beautiful” was his last words.

You hugged Ava tightly, just relishing the fact that it was over. You and Ava were finally done with Muse.

“Guys” Luke Cage said over the comms, “building. coming down. Can’t hold much longer”

You grabbed Ava and swung clear of the building. Matt jumped and shot a grappling line to a nearby building. Luke got out without a scratch on him.

You all landed on the nearby building where Frank was already putting away his rifle. “Just like the old days,” the gruff man said. “The Defenders. Still never cared for the name”

“We’ll work on it” you smirked.

“We?” Ava smiles at you, wrapping her arms around you.

“No one else I want to do this life with” you smiled as you pulled her in for a kiss.

A simple gesture, a kiss, but it held so much promise with it. Promise of a new day, a new life with you, Ava, and your little daughter.

To Be Concluded…

Tags @deafeningsharkslimeempath @supercorpdanbeau @jacenradio7 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @marveldcfandom @ma1egamer @multi-fandom-enjoyer @iiconicsfan25 @texaswolf23 @jadenyukiyusakufujikiyutoduelist @www-spiderxtiger

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concussed-to-pieces · 6 months ago

Text

Arbiter's Solstice; Part Three

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: Karl was either going to spontaneously combust out of boredom, or spontaneously combust out of having to watch you working in the fields. Oh sure, he didn't have to watch you work. But he did. Sometimes. Most of the time.

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying what I do! Hopefully I'll see you soon, but if not, stay safe. 💚 Enjoy!

Tag List: @stargazerofgoldenwords @cookiethewriter @crookedmoonsaultpunk @colesterstrudel @spoopyredacted @velvet-paradox @kotall-ohh @calwitch @katreneebug @missjasmine98 @sunflowers-and-swear-words @savage-rhi @nova-ivy541 @xyaswrlldd @the-videodame @luvley-shadow @akashiiiiii @spook0 @leediavhs @wysterias-not-so-secret-diary @alldevilsmaycry @writtennotsaid @mulcivert @cedarsmokesrandoms @smallestsnarkestgirl @buttons-beads-lace @vodkafolie @theplagueworm @holydreamerpastadragon @story-chaotic-brain @ohlookapan @topgirl17 @fyufox @immajojoreference @that-thangiling @n-o-r-4 @hauntedadagium @redjahxfox

[If you were tagged in error, please let me know and I’ll remove you!]

Part One: Chosen

Part Two: Struggles

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains gore, mentions of death, canon-typical violence, depictions of mental and physical duress and unprotected sexual activities between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]

Karl stared aimlessly up at the smoke wafting overhead from the stubbed-out cigar in his ashtray, his fingers tapping the surface of his work bench. The bench was littered with scrap, bits and pieces he'd been attempting to make sense of all morning.

When Donna had sent a request for all able-bodied villagers to assist with the salvaging of the fields and the planting of the autumn harvest, he had assumed you would wish to be exempted from such a tedious task. Instead, you leaped at the opportunity eagerly. Had he kept you cooped up for too long and you just needed to stretch your legs? Or was there something more sinister at work? Had Donna gotten to you with her damn spores?

Heisenberg groaned, rubbing his hand across his face.

The phone above the workbench began ringing, a dull clicking noise that Karl barely registered at first. He drew a circle with his finger, mentally trying to fit several pieces on the table in front of him together. If that goes to here, maybe I can–

Wait, the phone?

The man bolted upright, seizing the receiver and nearly yanking the whole unit off the wall in the process. Through the buzzing hum of poorly-insulated lines came the sound of howling, snarling, and-

“Karl?”

“What the hell is happening, Donna?!” Heisenberg barked, already halfway into his coat. He could almost feel her mustering up the strength to say something through her obviously-crippling anxiety, but he stifled his pity for the woman. Something was clearly wrong. “Donna, what the fuck do you need?” He asked finally, trying to prod her to respond.

There was a choked gasp for air and then she exhaled, “the lycans won't listen.”

The lycans. Fuck. He hadn't spared a thought for them since well before he’d torn Alcina's throat out. They'd been on the same level as humans, annoying, useless.

Heisenberg slammed the phone down into the cradle, certain he'd broken the rotary dial with the motion. It didn't matter.

He grabbed his hat, shoving it onto his head as he headed for the first of many doors to reach the outside. He'd have to muster up some kind of weapon as he went, unwilling to trust the durability of his old hammer. Worst came to worst, he could make something out of the salvaged tractor. He would be fine, it was the birds that unnerved him when he went outside but he would be fine–

Why the hell was his heart beating so fast?!

…

You swung the heavy bucket, clobbering the creature in front of you grimly. The momentum carried you in a circle, almost toppling you, but you managed to catch yourself before you fell.

The lycans had fallen upon the fields without warning, much fewer in number than they had been before the Lady's demise but no less ferocious for their lack of numbers. The villagers, armed with nothing but spades and rakes for turning the earth, quickly rallied and fought back. You had been returning from the well with a fresh bucket of water for the workers to drink, so you didn't even have the benefit of a long-handled tool to defend yourself!

Lycans didn't terrify you like the Soldat had. If anything, you were used to seeing creatures like lycans or Dimitrescu's Moroaică. You weren't thrilled about seeing them, but they didn't necessarily unnerve you, especially since you weren't dealing with them alone. Outside, under the cheery sunlight of midday, they weren't quite so imposing.

You brought the bottom of the water bucket down on the head of another lycan, water flying everywhere as the beast snapped and yelped in response. One of the other villagers swung his rake into the beast's ribs, scoring several deep wounds in the lycan's side.

Where is Donna? you wondered frantically, glancing around for the unwilling leader of the village. The black-veiled woman seemed to have vanished into thin air, however. You and the rest of the laborers were evidently on your own. You set your jaw, working with the other villager to batter the downed lycan with your implements until it stopped moving.

The brutality of the action was shocking, yet you felt nearly nothing about it. Pragmatism, maybe a new gift from your service under Karl? The Lady had always weaponized fear and anticipation in equal measure, where Lord Heisenberg was quick to make a choice and carry it out. If something was threatening you, be it Soldat or despot, end it.

Simple.

You straightened up, wiping the sweat from your brow and squinting through the gritty dust. The fields would be ruined (well, more ruined) if this fight went on for much longer. Someone would need to be decisive to put a stop to the lycans marauding behavior.

That someone turned out to be one Lord Karl Heisenberg, the Iron Horse seeming to materialize out of the dust of the field like an apparition. The large man snapped his fingers, ancient shrapnel rising from the disturbed dirt to do his bidding. Without a word, without so much as a sound, he merely gestured with his hand and every lycan dropped.

You were certain you weren't the only one standing there stunned by the speed of the whole endeavor, but you may have been the only one to notice how hard Karl's chest was heaving. That, combined with the way his eyes darted across the fields until they met yours and his shoulders visibly relaxed–

Gods, his eyes. You were suddenly breathless for an entirely different reason, feeling your body flush with heat as his gaze burned straight through you. To think, you had jumped at the chance to perform some labor away from Heisenberg's factory, just to give yourself the opportunity to have a little space, only to be rendered useless once more the moment his glance landed on you. So much for your noble attempt!

What was less surprising than his reaction was, unfortunately, the way he stormed across the dusty ground, the large man clearly making a beeline for you. You braced for his approach, mentally trying to remind yourself that he still had yet to be cruel to you. Sure, he could be more than a little terrifying, but that came with his demeanor! That came with just being who he was, it wasn't as though he was making a deliberate effort to be so…scary.

The man kicked a dead lycan aside, the limp body leaving a fresh furrow in the ground from the force of Karl's blow. A jagged piece of metal jutted proudly upwards from the base of the creature's neck, black ichor staining the dark hair darker still.

You swallowed hard.

“You,” Karl hissed, but…but he wasn't even looking in your direction? You cautiously glanced around, quickly spying Donna standing next to the field with Angie. “Don't you know anythin’?! You need to turn the soil first, get all the big rocks and metal out of the way before you try to plant! Imagine if one of-” There was a sickening squelching noise as a deadly sharp bit of metal pulled itself free of another lycan's head, the object rising to hover beside Karl's shoulder. “-your villagers ended up losing a hand from something like this?!” The metal shard darted through the air at Donna's head and you flinched, exhaling hard when it dropped harmlessly to the ground at her feet. “You need to think like a goddamn leader!” Heisenberg roared. “You're not some helpless stupid child, Beneviento, so act like it!”

“This reaction seems a bit overblown, Heisenberg.” That may have been the longest sentence you'd ever heard out of Lady Beneviento. Karl halted, obviously surprised as well. Donna's hands were clasped in front of her around Angie, her already-pale knuckles further whitened by the force of her grip, but her voice was steady when next she spoke. “Everyone, please take a short rest. We will return to work in half an hour.”

“Not you,” Karl growled when you attempted to slink off with the rest of the villagers. “You're staying where I can see you.” He then raised his voice to address Lady Beneviento once the villagers departed, “Why the hell did you call me? It's your damn village to manage.” The man griped, shoving his hands into his pockets as you sheepishly moved to stand beside him.

Donna wavered, clutching at a nearby trellis for support. You stepped forward, instinctively looking around for something for her to sit down on, but Karl moved past you and took her arm.

“Have you had anything to eat today? Drink?” He enquired gruffly, clicking his tongue when she shook her head. “Infuriating. It's hot and you're out here wrapped in black fabric. Did your gift eat your brain?”

“I am not so blessed as you.” Donna retorted dryly, gripping his arm. “It is difficult.”

“I'll go draw more water! Uh, can you…?” You held out the metal pail to Heisenberg, who flicked a hand at it and removed the fresh dents. “Thank you!”

…

“Your pet is so dutiful.” Donna remarked after Karl had settled her onto the tailgate of a nearby wagon. “They must be a great help.”

The lord gritted his teeth. “Don't call them that.” He couldn't read her expression beneath the veil, but he could certainly guess. “I'm not fucking Miranda, I don't keep these things around as pets.”

“‘These things’,” Lady Beneviento chuckled, the noise as dry as parchment. “You still want to sound like her. Very well. Not a pet. What, then?”

He gave the frail woman an incredulous look. “None of your goddamn business, that's what. Since when do you care about my affairs? I feel like you've got much more important shit to consider.”

“Indulge me.”

“I'd sooner chop off my own dick,” was the man's uncouth retort. “You've got enough fires to put out, don't go sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.”

“So vulgar.” The veiled woman leaned back, Angie kicking her heels rhythmically against the tailgate as she did. “I was only curious.”

“Don't act like we're friends just because I agreed to rebuild your crap, woman. I'm not here to facilitate your entertainment. And neither are they, for that matter.”

“Understood.” Lady Beneviento sighed, actually sounding disappointed.

Karl bit his tongue, both literally and figuratively as he kept himself from chiding her anew on her childish behavior. “Where did the lycans come from? Which direction?” He eventually asked.

Donna indicated towards what was left of Moreau's reservoir. “It has been so dry recently. Have they run out of food?”

The large man offered no response, instead kneeling to examine one of the quickly-dissolving bodies. The creature's ribs were plainly visible, pressing against the thin, ashen skin in unhealthy juts.

“What will I have to offer you for your continued assistance as we plow and plant?” Donna called, interrupting his amateur investigation. Karl grumbled to himself, dusting his knees off when he rose.

“Scarecrows.” He watched her head tilt upwards beneath her thick veil, the woman obviously confused. “You heard me. Build scarecrows. You do that and I'll make sure the rest of the lycans don't get your precious villagers.” Heisenberg paused, a wolfish grin creasing his face. “At least, not while they work in the fields. Deal?”

“More than fair, especially from you!” Angie chirped before Donna could answer. “Maybe you're not so bad.”

“Keep your inane observations to yourself, you little creepshow.”

…

The heavy pail banged against your leg with every step. You weren't certain how much water the Lady Beneviento could drink, but if her appetite was anything like her deceased sister's, you may need another bucket!

Flagging down one of the other women on your way by the resting band of villagers, you requested that she bring some bread and fruit to Lady Beneviento. No doubt the sugar would help to raise her spirits somewhat. To your surprise, however, the woman quickly shook her head.

“I'm not going anywhere near that…man.” She said, her voice just loud enough for the rest of the laborers to hear. “That's Lord Heisenberg.”

You squinted at her, a little baffled. But then, you recalled you had been much the same before everything that had transpired. Her apprehension was incredibly understandable. “Oh, of course! Just bring it to me then, I can bring it to them.”

“Are you certain? What if he…does something to you?” The woman asked fearfully.

“Don't you recognize them?” another woman scoffed from her place at the fenceline, giving you a disdainful look. “They were his handmaiden, of course they're not scared of him. They're the reason we're in this mess, if they had just-!”

“The bread and some fruit, please.” To your credit, your voice didn't shake as badly as you feared. The first woman skittered off towards one of the houses and you set the bucket on the ground to wait for her return, intent on ignoring the daggers you could feel being glared at you. The snide remarks were a bit more difficult to tune out, though.

“No wonder the lord showed up so quickly-”

“What have they been doing in that factory? Can't be anything good.”

“We're only in such a bad state because they refused to follow the orders of their betters!”

“Imagine willingly working for something like that! And with Lady Dimitrescu hardly cold in the ground-”

A covered basket was pressed into your arms, the woman giving you a sorrowful look. “Take care, little one.” She murmured softly.

“Naturally!” You replied with an air of extreme cheer, determined not to let the rest of the gossips know how their words had affected you. Hefting the bucket once more, you listed slightly to the side before adjusting to the combined weight. “Thank you for your hospitality!”

Perfectly willing to accept my help when I'm smacking a lycan with a bucket, but bringing some provisions to their leader is a bridge too far, you groused uncharitably to yourself as you made your way back to the other edge of the field. Ridiculous. If Karl had wanted to do something bad, I doubt Lady Beneviento would be able to stop him.

You hoped the rest of the villagers would be able to observe the lord and lady interacting. Maybe they would be able to comprehend that Heisenberg wasn't…

Well, wasn't as much of a threat as they wanted to believe. You sighed heavily, then straightened back up and pasted on a smile. “Some refreshments, Lady Beneviento!” You announced upon your arrival, waiting respectfully until the woman shifted Angie aside so you could place the basket on the tailgate of the wagon. Karl took the bucket himself without a word, filling the ladle and then passing it to Donna so she could drink. In the meantime you unwrapped the basket, surprised to see a jar of pickled vegetables as well as your requested rolls and a small bowl of raspberries.

“What will you sample first, my lady?” The way you slid back into your more formal manners felt like putting on an itchy sweater. It fit, certainly, it was your place, but that didn't make it comfortable or desirable. You hadn't realized how much more casual you were with Lord Heisenberg until this moment.

“You're eating.” Heisenberg growled, interrupting the woman midway through shaking her head. “You'll do none of those idiots any good if you're dead. You need to be alive if you expect me to keep showing up to deter the lycans. Now eat.”

“Perhaps just a few pieces of carrot?” You bargained, using the provided fork to spear a sliced carrot from the jar of vegetables. “And this bread looks fresh! Hours old, if that. You and Miss Angie are bound to enjoy it, especially with these raspberries.”

“Ah…I suppose. Perhaps you are right.” Lady Beneviento murmured, gamely accepting the fork from you. “The carrots are very bright this year.”

“They are!” you agreed, stunned but delighted. Was this an actual conversation?

Karl refilled the ladle, his expression unreadable as he waited for Beneviento to finish chewing the carrot. “Drink. Small bites.” He instructed her, and you heard a snort from beneath the veil.

“Such a doting brother.”

“Do it, you ungrateful little shit.” Heisenberg snarled. “You want me to protect your sheep? Take care of yourself because after the planting is done, I'm not coming back to your flock.” His eyes wandered to you momentarily before he seemed to snap back to attention, continuing, “you've put enough people in danger today. You need to be able to handle it yourself the next time it comes to your doorstep.”

“There is no need to scold me like an unruly child, Lord Heisenberg.”

Karl tensed up and you quickly replaced the ladle in his hand with an herbed piece of bread, knowing all too well his weakness for the soft rolls. “Please eat, my lord.” You insisted, your cheeks tingling with the effort of maintaining your pleasant smile. “I can assist Lady Beneviento, I imagine you have more important things to tend to. To er, ensure the safety of the villagers?”

The man tore a bite out of the roll, sharp teeth easily ripping the bread apart. “Oh absolutely. You know me, I'm a real…humanitarian.” He doffed his hat lazily at the two of you, then turned on his heel and headed for the small rise of land bordering the fields.

“It is curious how familiar you are with dear Karl.” Lady Beneviento commented once she seemed to believe the man was out of earshot. You froze, panic gripping your throat. “You were his…handmaiden, correct?”

“Y-Yes, my lady.”

“How very strange.” After that, Lady Beneviento didn't say another word, the frail woman seeming, frankly, exhausted from the morning's excitement. The villagers returned to their toil soon after Karl took his position on the rise, the lord pacing back and forth aimlessly as the ground was broken and dirt was sifted. You returned to your labor as well, continuing to haul water or break apart the larger chunks of loam to be sifted, and you did your best to ignore the broadening gulf of distance between yourself, the rest of the village denizens and Lord Heisenberg.

Karl would occasionally pause in his pacing to lift whatever shrapnel was picked from the earth, the man clearly collecting it with the intent to form some new weapon. He had a relatively sizable stack by supper time, when all labor stopped in order for folk to prepare their evening meal. Wearily the group of you trudged off the field, and force of habit led your footsteps towards what was left of Castle Dimitrescu. You were only brought out of your reverie by Heisenberg's voice, nearly jumping out of your skin when he spoke up behind you, “going somewhere, sweetheart?”

“N-No, not at all!” You denied, once more out of habit, turning to face him. “I was just…I was lost in thought.” Karl nodded as though he accepted your explanation, his own brow furrowed. “What are you doing following me, anyway?!” You sputtered.

The man shrugged. “The lycans. You never know where they might come from next.” He then straightened up, lighting a cigar. He hadn't smoked the entire time he was on guard duty, you realized belatedly. Just paced, back and forth, back and forth-

“Thank you.” You blurted out before you could think it through, dissolving into a stammer when he gave you a look of confusion. Something about his eyes tied your tongue in knots, but eventually you managed to explain yourself. “Thank you f-for coming today. I know you don't really like Lady Beneviento, so I really appreciate you–”

“It's not that I don't like her,” Karl interjected, his expression darkening. “It's…it's more than that. Look, don't worry about it. We made a deal, and I'm going to honor my side of it. That's all there is to it.”

It's more than that.

A thought came to you as Karl fell into step alongside you, of Lord Heisenberg and Lady Beneviento…you flinched, shaking your head to ward off that mental image even as your brain pragmatically reminded you well they're not actually siblings, there's no harm in it. Perhaps they had simply found solace in one another due to their unique upbringing, it didn't have to be more complex than that. It would explain a bit of the animosity Karl seemed to harbor for her, especially after his binding–

You had to keep yourself from slapping your forehead in annoyance at your own stupidity, of course that's why Karl was on less than good terms with her! From the looks of things she had been in no position to challenge the Lady Dimitrescu when it came to Heisenberg's imprisonment. Alcina had been…well, a bit of a brute, really. You couldn't imagine Donna defying her in any sense, least of all regarding someone who, in theory, was the only one who threatened Lady Dimitrescu's total dominion over the region.

To think that your misplaced jealousy (and it was extremely misplaced, why on earth would you believe Lord Heisenberg even thought of you like that?!) had led to you immediately assuming to know the hearts and minds of two individuals who were absolutely your betters in every sense of the word. You were ashamed of yourself, feeling small and foolish in your insecurity.

You were a handmaiden, nothing more, and that was how things had to be.

…

Karl was either going to spontaneously combust out of boredom, or spontaneously combust out of having to watch you working in the fields.

Oh sure, he didn't have to watch you work. But he did. Sometimes.

Most of the time.

He'd rest his arm on the handle of his new hammer, rest his chin on that and just let his eyes drift where they wanted. At least you seemed oblivious to his stare, too intent on your chores to bother to remain aware of your surroundings. Good thing Karl was there to ward off anything dangerous that may have approached.

And he had absolutely had his hands full for the first few days. The lycans had tried every which way to get past him in order to attack the vulnerable villagers, but it always ended the same: dissolving bodies pushed off to the side, a few grudging thank-yous, maybe an extra bit of bread and cheese thrown his way during the communal lunch. You'd think he would get a bit more recognition; not a single villager had died yet on his watch.

A distant yell roused him from his staring match with the area you had occupied, the man finding to his silent dismay that you had vanished while he wasn't paying attention.

The shout had come from the direction of the well. Heisenberg straightened up and the other laborers in the field seemed to take notice, their work pausing while they watched him shift his posture. Heisenberg ignored them, one hand reaching out towards the well. He closed his eyes to aid his concentration, the range of his power dependant on his focus–

Lycans. Multiple, his attention leaping from one to the next. A filling here, a screw in the knee there, bodies lighting up with hotspots of metal that he could turn to his advantage even at this distance.

Wait. He had needed to fix you after Alcina, a screw in the knee, what if he'd left something behind–

Another scream, this time from the other end of the field. The lycans had split what few numbers they had left, attempting to pick off outliers before Karl could reach them. The man growled, irritated, then stripped two pieces of metal off his hammer and sent them spiraling across the field. He barely waited to see if they had hit their mark before he bolted towards the well.

Karl reached out again, mentally straining to find something-

There! Bullet, lodged in a ribcage. He doubted you'd ever been shot in your life, so he took the gamble and latched onto the piece of metal, slamming it upwards until it tore free of whatever body it had resided in.

Heisenberg finally crested the hill before the square, taking in the sight beneath him momentarily before he sprinted forward.

It wasn't you. It wasn't you. Where the hell were you?! It was some man from the village, some useless man who was doing his best to defend himself by dashing back and forth around the well.

Heisenberg gritted his teeth and brought the hammer down on the head of one of the frail lycans, spotting another one already dead. That must have been the bullet bearer. The last lycan whirled, snarling and howling at his intrusion. Karl bared his teeth at the creature, seeing Moreau pandering and groveling to Miranda every time he looked at the piscean lord's creations. “What's the matter? Were you expecting someone else?” Heisenberg sneered, watching the beast quail in real time as it seemed to recognize him. “Donna isn't here, little mutt. But you're going to wish she was.”

…

You turned out the loaf from its pan, exhaling in relief when it held strong and didn't collapse. The crust was a little darker than you'd like, but it would be edible enough! People were always hungry at the noon meal, so you had taken it upon yourself to bake extra loaves of the herbed bread. You had the time for it, after all, since Heisenberg took care of most of the chores in his factory! All you had really needed to do was prepare the dough in advance and transport it in the morning, then briefly break away to put it in a borrowed oven so it would be fresh for the communal meal. A simple enough task.

You wiped your hands off on your apron, wrapping the loaves in a clean towel and then tucking them into a basket so you could tote them to the mishmash of tables that had been set up outdoors in the shade of the gnarled orchard. The weather had continued to hold, a blessing and a curse for the backbreaking work that needed to be accomplished, but after such a long time cooped up in Castle Dimitrescu, the sunlight was wonderful and you cherished every moment you could get.

A commotion outside caught your attention and you headed for the door, your basket safely slung over your arm. Perhaps everyone had decided to take the break a little early? It was warmer than usual today, it would certainly make sense-

Karl was in the middle of the field, surrounded by the rest of the villagers. “-want them found now, nothing gets done until they're located!” He was shouting, gesturing down at two more lycan corpses. Your heart leaped into your throat, you hadn't even known there was an attack! Had someone gone missing in the confusion?

“Sir?” One of the men spoke up, visibly shrinking when Karl glared his way and then raising a hand to hesitantly point in your direction. Heisenberg glanced up, paused, and then began shoving his way through the crowd.

You had a ludicrous thought for a moment of fleeing, but you dismissed it immediately. Lord Heisenberg would be on you in an instant. It would be better to just take your punishment on the chin, so to speak.

That might have been easier to accept if Karl didn't look so exceedingly angry. He had even gone a bit red in the face, the color unfamiliar compared to his usual pallor. He towered over you, the large hammer landing haft up in the dirt as he mutely reached for your shoulders. You couldn't help the shudder that ran through your body when he grabbed you, bracing yourself for some terrible beating.

A moment passed. Then two. Your eyes welled up and you blinked rapidly at the ground.

“Look at me.” His voice was deceptively even. You wavered uncertainly, then managed to shake your head. “Why not?”

“I am afraid.” You admitted. “I know I should be able to look at you, but you seem furious. I…I am afraid.”

“You're afraid?” Heisenberg barked that strange, coarse laugh and then embraced you. “I was terrified.” He confessed, low enough that only you would hear. “I…I couldn't find you. I thought-”

Your heart was hammering so loudly in your ears you could barely make out his words. Terrified. He had been afraid…for you? “I don't understand.” You whispered.

“I know.” Heisenberg muttered. Then, “neither do I.”

…

The fields were finally all in order three days later. Donna was hoping (perhaps futilely) to have a bumper crop of corn to carry the village through the winter. The mended tractor had sped up the process considerably, but it was still an immense undertaking to cut back the dead crops and overturn them in the fields that Beneviento did want to use. Obviously she didn't exactly have the manpower that the village had enjoyed during Lady Dimitrescu's tyrannical reign, so she had to make several hard decisions to ensure the survival of the people she did have.

Heisenberg didn't envy her. Of course, that was nothing new, but now he really didn't envy her. It was no small feat managing a village. Hell, he'd had his hands full with his Soldats, and they couldn't even talk back! He knew himself too well, knew he didn't have the patience or the restraint for it.

His eyes wandered to you at your comically oversized stove and he had to snort at himself. Maybe he did have patience and restraint, but only in very…specific scenarios. Speaking of which. “Is it done yet?” He called for the fifth time, your little laugh warming him down to his core.

“Almost!” You answered, turning to give him a quick smile. “I'm sorry, I know you're hungry.”

“You have no idea.” Karl muttered half to himself, watching the sway of your hips as you resumed your task. Starving.

“Are you helping to restore the barn tomorrow? Those that can't are stuffing the scarecrows, so I'll probably be doing that. I'm not much one for lumber.”

Truthfully Karl had forgotten about that next chore. Now technically Donna hadn't asked for his help regarding that anyway, so technically he didn't have to. But the thought of you sitting alone amongst the rest of the villagers was…irritating.

He had heard what they said, he always heard what they said and they were hardly kinder now that his imprisonment had ended. If anything, much of their vitriol seemed to have found a new target in you. Where they wouldn't say anything to his face, they were more than willing to say terrible things to you. He had watched you grin and bear it, but it didn't exactly brighten his day to know that you were enduring bullshit because of him. Add to that the fact that you hadn't ever brought it up to him so that the two of you could do something about it…

It was noble, in an exasperating and unfamiliar way, that you wanted to take on his woes or even shield him from them. As if you cared about him.

You were just some silly human.

Several fresh flatbread on a cutting board landed in front of him, and you carefully placed down a trivet on the table before managing to haul over a heavy skillet full of several eggs cooked in a molten hot tomato sauce. “Please be careful, it's extremely hot,” you warned, but Karl was already midway through digging a large spoon (more of a shovel, really) into the delicious-smelling mixture.

“Do you have time to eat?” He asked gruffly as you moved to return to the stove. “With me, I mean.”

You paused, giving him a surprised look before answering, “of course, if that is your wish.” Karl made a small motion with the spoon and you practically glowed, your smile was so brilliant. You rushed to pick up a small bowl and then you attempted to serve Karl, which the lord immediately brushed off. He instead placed a substantial amount of the tomato mixture into your bowl, topping it with one of the eggs like a garnish.

How much did you even eat? He wasn't usually in the habit of watching you consume your meals, too busy with his work to bother. The man tore one of the flatbreads in half to share, unable to fight his smile when you shyly accepted your piece. “Enjoy.”

…

You were hopelessly in love, despite your best intentions. Absolutely smitten, entirely entranced, mired in juvenile infatuation. You stuffed more leaves into the patchworked shirt that would eventually become the body of a scarecrow and you did your best not to let your eyes wander to where Lord Heisenberg was working on the barn. It was a futile effort, of course, but you really did try!

It wasn't exactly fair that he had abandoned his shirt hours ago, the other villagers laboring alongside him in a similar state of undress. He was just so incredibly strong, and so casual about his strength. Carrying beams of lumber with ease to shore up the collapsing roof, using his strange power to tighten otherwise unreachable bolts or to wrestle with problematic nails…you knew you ought to have been paying more attention to your own task, but you also knew you weren't the only one looking at Lord Heisenberg.

Indeed, several individuals around you who were also busying themselves cramming dried cornstalks into old pillowcases would occasionally pause, hands going still while they watched Karl do something particularly impressive. Something in your chest tightened when you noticed the amount of attention fixed on Lord Heisenberg, but Karl tilted his head at that moment and caught your gaze. The man smirked, throwing you a wink, and you frantically ducked your head to avoid further humiliation amidst the tittering laughter of your peers.

Honestly, you had shared breakfast with Lord Heisenberg, not any of these other individuals. You had been Chosen for him at first, but after everything was said and done, he had chosen you. Perhaps…perhaps it wasn't so bad to have a little pride in such things.

You dared to sneak another look and when Karl met your eyes again, you gave him a soft, fond smile before returning to your task. There was still work to be done, regardless of your own internal discourse, and certain things couldn't wait.

…

Heisenberg sought you out at the noon meal, the man having taken note of the furtive glances you'd been shooting his way all damn morning. He had to admit, it was…flattering, but also oddly sweet.

He posted up alongside you on the bench, a trencher of excessively-cooked fish balanced on his leg. You passed him a slice of bread with some pork drippings while apologizing for the lack of salt, but the man waved you off, gesturing down at the fish. “Help y'self,” he mumbled through his first bite, “watch f’ the li'l bones.”

“I suppose-” you began, tugging at the still-attached tail and then making a quiet noise of surprise when the spine snapped, dropping the rest of the backbone onto the plate. “Oh dear. Well, that makes it easier.” You delicately placed the tail off to the side. “The Lady only ever had us prepare red meat or poultry.” You said, half to yourself while you frowned doubtfully down at the remains of the fish. “I'm not quite…sure how to do this.”

Before he could think better of it, Karl picked up a piece of the fish and easily stripped several sections off the ribs, offering them to you wordlessly. You accepted with a grateful smile, placing your portion onto your own slice of bread and then taking a large bite. The man continued to prepare his own smaller portion, pretending not to notice the way you gulped water with every bite.

“It's a bit, er, dry.” You mumbled when Karl finally asked how you liked the fish. “I'm afraid I don't understand the appeal. Maybe some seasonings would improve the flavor?”

Karl cleared his throat, stifling a laugh. The fish was as dry as a bone; he was more impressed that it had stuck together this long instead of just evaporating outright. “You're drinking more water than the fish did.” He remarked, making you sputter. “Don't worry, it's edible. Whatever you don't want, I'll finish.”

“I'm sorry, I don't mean to be ungrateful.” You apologized guiltily, ducking your head.

“We'll eat good tonight.” Karl crunched a needle-like bone, feeling it pierce the side of his cheek. “Let the rabble burn their fish and gawk at their betters.”

“Oh, you noticed.” Your voice had gone thin.

“‘Course I noticed. I'm not goddamn blind.” Heisenberg growled, “they're terrified of me but they'll stare like slack-jawed idiots as soon as I show some skin.” He turned to the side, leaning in just a little and lowering his voice. “You're the only one I want gawkin’ at me, sweetheart.”

You stared up at him, gawking in every sense of the word. Karl could feel his smirk making a triumphant return and he dared to slip a finger beneath your chin, feeling the way your pulse beat wildly at his touch.

“Don't get all shy on me now, sweetheart,” he teased, tapping his thumb against your lips and then pulling away once more. “We can discuss further, when we have some…privacy.”

You blinked hazily before jolting, your back going poker straight as you focused your attention pointedly on the remains of the fish.

…

“It's not hard to notice the way you treat me.”

Karl turned from his workbench to look at you, the lord obviously surprised by your words. Your whole body was trembling but you did your best to maintain some level of eye contact. You already knew he could sense your fear, but hopefully he wouldn't misinterpret your apprehension.

What you truly feared was rejection, or even disposal after brief fascination. The Lady had been so changeable in her moods and while Karl hadn't displayed quite that same level of vacillation, he did have a temper which seemed to burn hot. You weren't sure if you would be able to endure being disposed of, being ignored for the rest of your days once the shine wore off.

“You treat me differently than the rest of the villagers.” You did your best to gentle your tone. This wasn't an accusation, after all, but an observation.

Karl stood. “You make it sound like I shouldn't!” He half-laughed, but there was no humor in his tone. “Why wouldn't I treat you differently? You're the only one worth a damn in this entire village. You're the only one who treated me like a person, it's only natural that I'd treat you right.”

“You're a lord, though.” You pointed out. “You shouldn't display favoritism.”

“Have I ever given you the impression that I care about what I should or shouldn't do?” Heisenberg asked incredulously. “I killed Alcina. You of all people can understand that's something that I technically shouldn't have done and yet here we are, sans one noble House Dimitrescu.”

You shook your head, wishing you could just get him to understand. “It's not like that, it's just that…I mean, the rest of the villagers, they…” You trailed off, frustrated. What would you even say? ‘They're being rude to me’? Oh surely, what a change in behavior. “They just treat me differently.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” You were both startled by the speed and volume of your denial, Karl snorting in apparent disbelief at the outburst. You glared at the floor, making a futile attempt at hiding from the man.

“Then what's the problem?” He asked brusquely, one ankle tucked behind the other as he leaned against his workbench. “I'm offering even more than what I've already done, and I don't want anything more in return. I'm offering what you know you want, sweetheart.”

“You know what I want, now?” You shot back, a little irritated at how easy everything seemed to be for him.

“Of course.” Karl replied with a cocky little tilt of his head. “You want me over you, or maybe under you. Behind you? Choices, choices.”

Your dream from the other night raged to the forefront of your mind once more and you buried your face in your hands with a frustrated little scream. “I didn't want to be like this.” You mumbled through your fingers, oblivious to how stiff Karl's posture went at your confession. “It's not my place to be like this, surely someone else-”

“No one.” The lord said curtly. “Not a soul. They can look at me all they want, but it'll be you I'm coming back to every night.” His expression softened ever so slightly. “If you'll have me, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

“If…if I agree to this,” you swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “If I agree to this, you have to promise me that you won't…I mean, that if you get bored of me or you grow tired of my company, you'll state it plainly. Don't lie to me to spare my feelings, just tell me outright. I couldn't bear continuing to…engage with you if you no longer found my company pleasant.”

“It won't come to that.” Karl stated firmly. “Promise me you'll do the same, though. If you decide you'd rather move on, let me know so I can send you off.”

“I doubt it will happen!” You rushed to assure him, “but I will acquiesce, of course. Neither of us are obliged to stay if we are unhappy!”

“Good.” Heisenberg fidgeted for a moment. “Can we…” He made an odd gesture at your pallet, “discuss further?”

“What else is there to discuss?” You queried, genuinely confused. Karl rolled his eyes with a groan, scooping you up into his arms and carrying you to your pallet. “Lord Heisenberg, I-”

“Karl.” He breathed in your ear, his voice sending an entirely different shiver down your spine. “Call me Karl when we're alone.”

“O-Of course.” Lord Heisenberg looked down at you expectantly and you bit your lip, hesitant even now. “Karl.”

“Sweetheart,” he practically purred the endearment, the gentle tone of his voice and the adoration in his eyes leaving you breathless.

“I will meet you however I can.” You offered, propping yourself up on your elbows beneath him. “I am, however, not overly experienced in these matters.”

“Do you want me inside you at some point tonight?” Karl asked bluntly, smirking when you sputtered. “Don't worry about your experience. Whatever you've had, I'll make you forget about it.”

“Oh.” You wheezed, more than a little frazzled. “Surely it would be better for you if I knew what I was doing?”

Karl ran his tongue over his teeth in that odd, nervous gesture. “Not really. I don't want you to be self-conscious.” He murmured, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. The man began unbuttoning your shirt, shoving the fabric off to the side so he could kiss your collarbone.

The feeling of his facial hair on your bare skin had you trembling beneath him, your hands feebly gripping his shoulders in an effort to ground yourself. Oh certainly, there had been juvenile fumblings under the stairs in the kitchen, but you had never engaged in anything so…all-encompassing. Karl seemed ready to undo you entirely, the man taking his time with every button and hook that he encountered.

He finally untied your breast band, slipping the cloth out from beneath you with a soft rustle. “I'm going to put my mouth here,” Karl warned you, his expression serious.

Unsure of where here was, you still nodded your head, crying out when Karl roughly laved his tongue over your right nipple. The man coaxed the bud into his mouth, humming while you bucked and squirmed under his ministrations. No one had ever-!

His free hand sought out your other breast, fingers teasing and fondling you to stiffness as you whimpered and bit down on your knuckles in an effort to keep quiet. The man growled something against your skin and then his knee dug beneath your thigh, hooking your leg up over his own and pressing his pelvis to yours through the layers of clothing. His skin was so hot, and the way his intense eyes watched your every move as you reacted helplessly to him…it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

“Karl,” you half-sobbed, fingers fumbling at the open throat of his shirt. “Please, please Karl-”

“You don't even know what you want,” the man gently teased you, undoing the laces on your skirt and splaying the homespun weave open on either side of your hips, leaving you wholly exposed aside from your underthings. Karl shoved your legs up over his thighs, leaning his body forward to return to your breasts. As he did however, he rutted against your pelvis firmly, making you whine without intending to. You flushed hot, avoiding his eyes as he cautiously shifted his weight. “Mm, what's wrong sweetheart? You're so quiet all of a sudden,” the lord breathed, grinding his body down in an abrupt motion that startled another whine out of you. “Is this what you want, hmm?”

He didn't wait for whatever reply might have been forthcoming, the man busying himself at your breasts again. You arched your back, feeling his canines scrape your sensitive skin in a delicious tingle of sensation. “Karl-”

“I know, sweetheart.” He whispered, slipping a hand into the band of your underwear and tugging them off, then unbuttoning the placket of his pants. “Look, look at me.”

You managed to raise your head to stare down the length of your body at whatever he was trying to show you, your half-lidded eyes widening and the flush rising on your cheeks once more. Karl huffed out a breath, stroking his cock and pressing the heated skin against your wet cunt. You were so slippery that he ended up sliding over your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your clit with a harsh little bump that had you whimpering.

“Too much?” Karl asked through gritted teeth, forcing out a laugh when you vigorously shook your head. “Good, right? Feels good?”

You could barely get a word out, your voice dissolving into a moan when he reached up to toy with one of your nipples again. “Yes, yes, please…”

“Alright, I'll keep goin’.” Karl assured, using his hand to spread the lips of your cunt a little wider so he could slot himself against you more firmly. His low rumble when he rutted his cock between his hand and your cunt fanned the ache deep in your stomach, making your hips jolt up of their own accord. “Oh, easy, easy,” the man gasped, obviously startled. “I know you want more, sweetheart, but I don't want to hurt you.” He held up his hand and you realized dimly that it was trembling. “Inside, yeah?”

You nodded wildly, propping yourself up on your elbows again in an effort to watch what he was about to do. Karl shot you a wink, making you let out a nervous giggle. The sound quickly turned into a gasp as he tapped his thumb to your clit and pressed his middle finger against your entrance, the rough pads of his digits rasping along your skin briefly. Then he breached your cunt, his finger experimentally stroking at your insides while his thumb rolled over your clit.

“Say my name, sweetheart.” Karl instructed you softly.

“Karl, I-” your voice cracked and broke when the man pressed his index finger into you, spreading you wider and making lewd, wet noises with your cunt.

“I know,” he crooned, “I know sweetheart, you're already so wet for me but we need to make sure. Show me what you like.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassed. “I don't–I don't know.” You admitted softly, arching your back when he flicked over one of your nipples again.

“Mmm, I think you do.” Karl growled, tormenting your nipple with firm strokes that he echoed on your clit, making you squirm and cry out. “How do you make yourself feel good?”

“I haven't!” you denied desperately. “I wasn't allowed, I-I–”

“No?” Karl interrupted you, raising an eyebrow. “You never found something that made you feel nice? Never took advantage of…oh, I dunno’, a certain angle, maybe a pillow?”

“Wasn't allowed.” You reiterated, practically babbling while his fingers curled and thrust into you. “Wasn't allowed wasn't allowed-”

“But did you?”

“No!” You sobbed, caught off-guard when he twisted his wrist and did–something with his fingers that made an explosion happen behind your eyes. Your whole body went tense and then a warm sensation flooded your groin, pulling a bone-deep groan out of you as you sank into the pallet once more.

“Coming so soon? Guess you were serious.” Karl sounded surprised, but also like he was talking to you from down a hallway. You whimpered instead of replying, making him laugh.

His cock slid along your pussy again, sending a lance of heat into your belly. Your cunt was still riddled with aftershocks from whatever Karl had done to you, the man panting softly as he rolled his cock over your twitching entrance. Back and forth, back and forth, every motion inspiring that same heat to build in your stomach and causing you to moan in response.

“Spread your legs, sweetheart.” He requested, clapping a hand to your shaking calf. “Let's get these nice and wide for me, loosen everything up so you're comfortable.” Broad palms kneaded at the insides of your thighs, the man helping to warm up the spasming muscles with careful strokes. His fingers were still wet from being inside you, leaving cool trails along your inner thigh when he moved his hand. “I…I can't promise this is going to be good at first.” Karl warned, his expression slightly pained. “We can stop now.”

“No, I want it. I–” you hesitated, still not certain of what exactly you were hoping for. “I want everything.” You finished instead, hoping you sounded firmer than you felt. “I can endure it.”

Karl chewed on his lower lip. “If it's too much, you'd better tell me.” His voice dropped into a lower, more grave register. “Understand, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes, Karl.”

“Good.”

…

It still took Heisenberg a few minutes to work up the courage to start. He justified the delay by continuing to work you over with his fingers, mentally warring with himself while you sighed and panted under him.

He could stop. He wasn't an animal. He could be careful, and you had given your word that you would tell him if it was too much.

It would be enough. It had to be. Damn it all, if he couldn't trust himself to manage this now, he never would. Karl grimaced, tucking his fingers beneath your chin to hold your gaze. “I'm going to start.” He said quietly, “it may be uncomfortable.”

“I understand.” So brave, always so brave, staring up at him with a hazy sort of determination that sent a hot rush down his spine.

The lord barely refrained from nervously laughing, choosing instead to spread you wide and rest the head of his cock against your entrance. He didn't move for a moment, giving you the opportunity to say no, but in a surprising twist you wrapped your fingers around your own thighs, clumsily helping him to hold you open.

Karl slowly, slowly pressed his dick into you, the man finding himself having to adjust multiple times in order to keep the motion relatively smooth. Gods, you were so soft and warm, it was incredible. If it wasn't for the guilt he felt welling up inside him, it would be perfect. But despite your natural lubrication and warmup this was still obviously a massive undertaking, your voice cracking when you exhaled a moan of what seemed to be discomfort as he bottomed out. “Oh, Karl, oh God–” you whimpered, fingernails digging into your own thighs. “Can I–can you hold still? I need-I need a minute t-to…”

“Of course.” Karl muttered before you could finish, settling you carefully into the cradle of his hips. “Let me know when you're ready.” He rested his thumb on your clit, the digit sweeping softly back and forth while you breathed deep and adjusted to his size. “Take as long as you need, sweetheart.” He continued, hanging his head when you inadvertently clenched down on his cock. “As long as you need, I can wait.” Truthfully, being inside you at all was undoing him, but he wasn't particularly concerned about his own stamina. He doubted you'd care either.

Speaking of which, you tilted your hips upwards slightly and Karl watched your eyes fly open, the man biting back a smirk as you all but fucked yourself onto his cock for a breath. Heisenberg pressed a hand to your chest, easing you flat once more.

“I can take it from here, sweetheart.” He murmured, “do you mind if I finish inside you? Promise it won't do anythin’ but make a mess.” The cadou, the gift from Miranda, had given many things to him, but it had also taken much away. Humanity, normalcy, the promise of a simple life with someone else…

In response your heels dug into the small of his back, sheathing him impossibly deeper into you. “Please,” you begged, your eyes teary and cheeks wet. “Need you, need all of you.”

Heisenberg snarled, fucking down into you. He tugged your legs up off his hips, bending them at the knees and forcing you wide open, vulnerable for what he knew would be an insatiable event. “Take it then, sweetheart, take what's yours.” He crooned, certain deep down that he was being at least a little mean. After all, you were giving him this precious gift, the least he could do was behave himself. Easier said than done with your nails scraping tiny crescents between his shoulder blades though, easier said than done when your mouth was right next to his ear and you were sobbing his name while he fucked the sense out of you. Maybe you didn't mind him being a little less gentle?

Karl pulled out and rutted against you for another moment, enjoying the way your clit pulsed when he tapped it with his cock and the way your body went tense with the pressure. Evidently you were wound even tighter than he was, despite your lack of experience. You cried out when he reached up and teased one of your nipples, your back bowing in response.

“You close again? Want to come on my cock?” Karl asked, laughing outright when you nodded desperately. “Anything for you sweetheart. Hurt a little less?”

“It's not–it doesn't hurt, you just…” your fingers tangled in the sheets as you fidgeted, obviously trying to explain what it was that you felt. “You're so deep. It's not a…not a hurt, it's more of an ache.”

“Too deep?” The man queried, already considering what he needed to adjust posture-wise to keep you comfortable.

“No, I–” Karl felt the heated flush that spread across your skin, the man patiently waiting until you admitted, “I enjoy it, Karl. It's…I like it.”

“You like me deep inside you?” Heisenberg rolled his hips, sheathing his dick once more and thrusting hard enough to knock the breath out of you for a moment. “As deep as I can get?”

“Please-” you begged, “you fill me up so well–”

“Well I'm sure as hell going to,” Karl grunted. “I want to keep doing this forever, if you're amenable.”

“I'd like that.” You smiled tearily up at him and Karl's breath hitched, hips stuttering as he lost his battle against the urge to spill into you.

“Sweetheart-” he gasped in your ear, the thunder of his own pulse nearly drowning out your whimpering. “Fuck, sweetheart, you're everything, you're all I want, you…I love you.”

The man froze, realizing what he'd just blurted out (and the way your body had reacted to it). You tilted your head back, panting and moaning while your soaked little cunt throbbed around him and fucking hell–

Maybe it was alright. Maybe you hadn't heard him.

“‘Love you too-” you managed to say, your voice weak and tremulous.

Something inside Karl snapped (snapped more?) and the man buried his face in your neck, growling swears and entreaties in equal measure as he fucked you through your climax. Your answer was to wrap your arms around his neck and beg for more, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging until his scalp ached hotly. Karl wanted to scream, he wanted to fight something, but more than even those most primal urges, he just wanted to fuck you until you forgot your own name.

A combination of your come and his own began to sluggishly drip from your cunt onto the sheets, clearly not helped by Karl’s relentless rhythm. The man absently slid a hand beneath the small of your back to adjust you and his fingers passed over the raised area of the multiple cursive Ds branded into your flesh. Again speaking before he thought, driven entirely by base instinct and possessive rage, the lord bared his teeth and seethed, “You are mine. Nobody else gets to touch you ever again.” Not Alcina, not fucking Moreau, never again.

“I'm y-yours, I'm yours Karl…” was your stilted, hiccuping reply, not that he'd even needed (or deserved) an answer. Heisenberg felt his expression soften, felt the fight-ready tension in his shoulders unwind, and the man placed apologetic kisses along your breasts and collarbone. You were so impossibly good to him, it was evident he would be repaying you for the rest of your time together.

“I dreamed about doing this.” The confession was soft, rasping in his dry throat. “Stuck in my cell, I-I'd think about it. You were so damn nice to me, I just…” Karl hesitated, well aware of your half-lidded stare boring a hole through him. “I wasn't used to humans being kind. Hell, anyone being kind. Guess I'm a little fucked up.” ‘A little’, fuck's sake.

“I would have let you.”

Fuck's sake.

Karl closed his eyes, resting his forehead on your collarbone and exhaling raggedly. “I wouldn't have been good to you.” He admitted. “I was still too angry, too mean. I don't…it wouldn't have gone well. Trust me, it's better this way.”

You pressed your face into his neck, inhaling deeply and pressing kisses to the sweaty skin there. “I'm sorry.”

“Not your fault, sweetheart. I was fucked up before you were born.” The man shook his head, rolling his shoulders absently. “Fucked up, stuck in the cycle of being bitter and hateful, helpless to do anything but wallow and further other people's ambitions…it really got to me.” He nudged his nose into your cheek teasingly. “And then you came along.”

“The Lady chose me for you, she said it was a great honor.” You rolled your eyes, huffing out a breath. “She didn't mention the part where I would be sacrificed at the solstice, of course.”

“Well yeah, you wouldn't have agreed to it otherwise,” Karl allowed, his smirk fading slightly. “But then you chose me. A hard road to walk, sweetheart, and I don't take it for granted. I…thank you. For–well, for everything.”

You sniffled, burying your face in his neck once more.

Karl hummed in contentment, continuing to fuck you at a leisurely pace. “What do you say–” he panted when you clenched down on him again, “we do something special for the winter solstice?”

You squinted up at him, your brow furrowed in confusion. Karl just pressed a kiss to your forehead and smiled his usual, self-satisfied grin.

…

“I'm not certain that I-” you paused, excusing yourself as you yawned broadly. Karl continued wrapping a patched scarf around your neck, patiently waiting for the rest of your question. “-understand what the whole point of this is, Karl.”

“Have some cider.” He insisted instead of answering you, pressing a warm, chipped mug into your hands. “It's almost time.”

You grumbled a little to yourself but obediently sipped on the mulled beverage while Karl banked the fire in the stove and put on his own coat. Several days before the winter solstice, the man had gone out and constructed a small shelter on the rise of land the Duke normally inhabited, and it was from this shelter that the two of you emerged into the frigid blue of dawn. The Duke, parked nearby in his cart as ever, offered a wave but no further commentary, for which you were immensely grateful. It was still a bit early to be cordial, nevermind carry on a full conversation.

The air was breathtakingly cold; you could feel the rush of wind whipping past your nose and biting at any exposed skin it could find. The hot cider was now a lifeline and you kept your mittened hands tightly wrapped around it, taking a more hearty sip.

“Not long now.” Karl murmured, embracing you from behind and resting his chin on the crown of your head.

“Are you going to explain to me what the point of all of this is?” You grumbled, slouching back against him.

It was several minutes before Karl spoke again, the man seemingly content to sit in silence. “It's…I don't know, it's like the opposite of the binding ritual.” He fidgeted with your coat for a moment (well, it was one of his coats, but you'd sewed an extra thick lining into it to keep yourself warm), eventually tucking his hands into the pockets.

You hummed, not overly certain you understood what he was getting at, but also no longer cold.

The sun slowly rose over the horizon, burning through the tall pines and setting the morning mist alight with prismatic eddies in its wake. You squinted against the brilliant beams, every inch of your body suddenly tingling. It felt a bit like waking up after a long, long sleep in an awkward position, disoriented and rumpled. Sometimes in Heisenberg's factory you could go days without seeing the outside world, so perhaps your reaction was to be expected. It was a beautiful sunrise, all things considered.

Karl sounded a little faint when he said, “I think…I think there might have been something to that old witch after all.” He shook himself bodily, as if he was a dog that had just been given an unwanted bath. “Granted, nothing she can do about me now. But it does feel sort of–mystical.” He muttered something you couldn't make out under his breath, then raised his voice again. “Shortest day, longest night, rebirth, blah blah blah. We'll have to have a huge bonfire tonight, I guess.”

“Oh?” You tilted your head back to look at him. “Why?”

“Burning away the old, in with the new.” Karl sucked in a deep breath. “I'm…I'm happy you're still here with me.” He said gruffly.

“I'm happy to be here.” You assured him, your voice soft.

“...I haven't told Donna I'll be building a massive fire next to her shitty little village.” Heisenberg mentioned casually moments later, as though it had only just occurred to him. Judging from the incredibly smug grin on his face, however, that had been his plan from the start.

With Karl animatedly explaining about the Wild Hunt and the connections between someone named Freyja and the winter ‘rebirth’ of the sun, the two of you set off into the woods to search for dead trees and other dry kindling, his hand in your own. His grin eventually softened into a genuine smile as he answered your questions, and you found yourself falling silent just to hear him expand upon what was clearly a favored subject to him. He had a strange light in his eyes, but not necessarily an unwelcome one. It seemed more like he was returning to life.

The arbiter that was the solstice appeared to have once more come to bear, the cycle beginning anew. You had broken the previous cycle of course, so you hadn't the faintest idea of what this new one could have in store for you, but you knew for a fact that whatever the future held, you and Lord Heisenberg would face it together.

Karl, you thought privately, a content little smile on your face.

“Why are you starin’ at me like that?”

You started, realizing belatedly that yes, you had been staring at the large man currently giving you a sideways look. “I–you seem happy, that's all. And I'm glad that you are.”

Karl blew out a raspberry, the steam from his breath swirling into the air. “‘Course I am. You're here.” You started beaming and he groaned, rumpling your hair while teasing, “don't get any ideas, sweetheart. Just because I want to keep you around forever…”

A terrifying lord, a ferocious fighter, The Iron Horse…and lastly, your love.

#karl heisenberg #lord karl heisenberg #eventual romance #fix it fic #au #resident evil #re 8 #re 8 village #resident evil village #resident evil karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #re 8 karl heisenberg #loyal mad dog trope #happy ending #it is a good day #enjoy!

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xxblairexxss · 2 years ago

Text

Supersede part 2

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Angst (I don’t think there’s any fluff in here)

Decided to give reader’s brother a name otherwise it’ll get too confusing. Y/B/N ; Dean.

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“What is wrong with you?”

“I’m fine?” This was the tenth time Dean had asked you the same question. It probably had to do with you being gone for the rest of the event. After you saw Charles with his new girlfriend. You were on your way back to your hotel room when you were informed by Dean that Charles had invited both of you to join him for dinner.

“He said he wanted to introduce us with someone.”

Oh, you weren’t sure if you were prepared for that. Not for another ten years. So, you said no. And the excuse you came up with was pretty standard. You told him you weren’t feeling well. Guess that’s why he kept on asking you if you were fine because you looked horrible. Not physically, for sure.

“Alright, then. I’m just gonna tell him you are not feeling well. Take my card and order whatever you want. Let me know if you ever leave the hotel but I would prefer you to stay.” He cackled and patted your head when you pulled a face. “I know, I know. no more nagging.” He made a zip up motion on his lips and gave your head one last pat before you tapped the access card to your hotel room and walked in.

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flash

“Dean?”

You jumped off the last stair and skipped your way to the living room. Your brother had accidentally ate your last piece of Magnum bar and had promised to take you out tonight to replace the eaten one. When you got into the living room, your brother was gone. The only person you could find was his best friend.

“Dean?”

“Y/N? Are you looking for Dean?” He clicked on the pause button on the game controller and turned to look at you.

“Yeah, have you seen him?”

He resumed the game back and you heard the click of the buttons being pressed. “He went out for a date. Like 5 minutes ago, I think?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling disappointed with the broken promises. Charles had taken notice of your silence and he paused back the game. “Why?”

“He promised me to– actually, no. Nevermind.” You turned to make you way back to the room.

“Y/N, why?”

You were on the first few step of the stairs when you heard his voice. By the time you walked back into the living room, you saw he was turning off the game. “It’s just that he promised he would take me out to replace my ice cream bar.” You were now playing with your sleeve after realising how childish it sounded now that you said it out loud. “I should head back to my room.”

“I can take you.”

“Dean doesn’t allow me to go out with any random guy.” You shook your head, completely against the idea though you would really like to spend some time with him, without your brother.

“I’m not a random dude. Plus, he doesn’t have to know. I drive fast cars, remember? We’ll just make it a quick trip.” You saw his little smirk as he strode confidently.

That was your first little so-called-date with Charles behind your brother’s back. He would always come over on Saturday to bring you out because Dean always slept over at his girlfriend’s. You would usually go and get ice cream just to eat by the park or you would sometimes get fast food burgers and fries if you were craving for it.

“Oh no! They got my order wrong.” You took another sip of the drink and gasped. “This is not my order.”

“Go and ask them to change.” He steered back to the drive thru with one hand holding his drink. You were now back lining up amongst other cars.

“Can you ask them to change it?”

“Why can’t you?” He laughed, seeing how you started biting on your lips and started fidgeting with your fingers.

“I’m nervous! And I feel so bad!” You cried out.

“Why do you have to feel so bad? It’s not your fault.” He took a sip from his drink and licked off the foam from the plastic straw.

“You don’t get it!”

“You do it and I’ll treat you out on a proper date.” He nodded in a cocky way when you looked at him suspiciously. “I promise. There. Say it!” He straighten his back against the seat so you could lean over to his window.

“Hi, what can I help you?”

“Hi! I– uhm, I am so, so sorry but I ordered vanilla sweet cream cold brew and I think– I think you got my order wrong.” He was nodding his head while sipping on his drink when you looked t him in the midst of it.

“Oh, we are so sorry. We’ll get you a new one!”

“See? Easy peasy.” He raised his brows, looking over-confident it made you roll your eyes.

“Was I rude?” You heaved a sigh. “I hope I’m not. Now they have to make another drink for the same person.”

“Oh my God? It’s their job!”

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You were sitting on your bed with your clay mask on while you were on your second slice of pizza that you had ordered before you took your bath. The beef pepperoni were so good you had to pick them off the pizza slices to eat them on their own while focusing on the tv series you had playing on your iPad.

“You are telling me he was the murderer this whole time?! Unbelievable!” You shook your head and took another bite of the pizza. “Oh?” The sound of door bell put a pause to your series.

Putting your pizza slice back in the box, you picked another slice of pepperoni and tilted your head back as you tried not to get the cheese string to touch your face mask, another hand pulled on the door handle to greet your brother who was standing on the other side of the door.

“Y/N?”

But it wasn’t your brother.

“Charles? What are you doing here?! Give me a second.” You slammed the door back and head to the bathroom to wash your hand before opening the door back, this time just a little to peek your head through the gap. “Are you looking for my brother?”

“No? I’m looking for you.”

“Why?” You blinked.

“Dean told me you are not feeling well?” He fished out his phone and you saw the incoming call with a heart emoji. “And I haven’t seen you at all today in the paddock.”

“Oh, yeah. Congratulations! I– something came up so I couldn’t really stay to congratulate you.” You pulled back the door a little so you didn’t have to keep on peeking as your neck was feeling a little sore.

“Kinda sad I didn’t get to see you after the podium.” He shrugged his shoulders and gave a soft smile. “Are you okay though? Was it the weather?” His phone rang again.

“I am fine. You should probably take the call.” You were going to close the door when he pushed it back.

“I– um, I just wanted to say I’m really happy that you are here. It’s been a while and I’m glad to see you again.” He clicked on the volume button to stop his phone from ringing again. “I actually wanted to introduce you to my girlfriend but you didn’t get to join the dinner. Next time, maybe?”

“Yeah, sure. Have a good night, Charles.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

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You didn’t see Charles at all after that night. He had asked you to join his private flight back but you declined the offer so your brother decided to keep you accompany instead of joining his friend.

Dean had noticed something was wrong. He obviously had. And he knew it had to do with Charles’s new girlfriend. You had been very eager to see Charles before the Grand Prix. Now you did everything you could to not be in the same room with him. He had to be on your side this time because what his friend did was wrong. No text, no call and all of sudden, new girlfriend? He didn’t want to ask because he knew you would tell him if you were ready to talk.

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“Charles is coming over this weekend. Careful, it’s hot.”

You took the bowl of bouillabaisse, your mom’s specialty from Dean and placed it on the kitchen counter when the heat got to you.

“Told you it’s hot, silly. Use this.” He handed you the heat resistant cotton glove when you kept on flapping your hands.

“Why?”

“For you to hold the bowl, genius.”

“No, I mean, why is he coming over?” You rolled your eyes and put on the gloves to bring the bowl to the dining table.

“Because he always does? It’s not the first time.”

“Oh! Then can we play card games?” You asked. It was a game that the three of you always played whenever Charles came over. Sometimes your parents would join in as well. It was a fun activity that would always be full of laughters with no phones involved.

“Of course. We never skipped card games.”

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Weekend arrived and Charles came, all alone. You were in your room. The hangout had always be between your brother and him. You only joined them when they were done playing with the PlayStation and talk about girls.

“Can we play card now?” You brought with you a card pack, cutting their laughters with your sudden interruption.

“Of course! Give me that and I’ll shuffle it.”

You passed Dean the pack of card and took a seat by his side. You saw Charles kept on checking his phone, sometimes he would take a minute to type in something and then shut it off.

“Can we play cribrage first?”

“You always lose that game. You sure about that?” Charles cocked a brow and took the chunk of cards that was passed to him.

“Excuse you. I am getting better at it.”

“We’ll see then. Bring the board.” He checked on his phone again before placing it on his side.

Charles’s phone rang a couple of times through out the whole game. Sometimes you had to call him out during his turn because he was too busy on his phone.

“I win!” You threw your arms in the the air and squealed. “I win! I finally win!”

“I have a hunch you might be cheating. I just wasn’t able to catch you.” Dean glared at you suspiciously and took back all of your cards to check if you actually collected the right points.

“Guys, I need to go.” Charles wasn’t even in the game. You were so sure he didn’t even know the game had ended and that you actually won it because he didn’t even spare you a glance.

“You are leaving?” Dean asked, glancing at you.

“Yeah, I need to be with my girlfriend.” He stood up and took his jacket that was draped on the hand rest of the couch.

“Can’t you stay for one more game? It’s been a while..” You gathered a courage to ask him the question, to make him stay but he turned down the offer right away.

“I can’t. My girlfriend won’t leave me alone. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

You bit your bottom lips, eyes on him as he walked out, still not sparing you a glance when he had left without giving you a proper hug before.

Dean came back and saw you sat on the floor with a few cards in hand, completely conscious with the mood. “Wanna play war? You win and I’ll buy you the new necklace you want.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

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You decided to go on a date with someone who used to attend the same class with you back then when you were a freshman. His name was Jake. You actually had never spoken to him up until you finished your second year when he suddenly sent you a text. He made his attention clear right away that he wanted to get to know you more.

You had been treating him nothing more than just a friend for the past few months because you were still holding on to that one single strand of rope that maybe, just maybe, you could have a chance with Charles.

Now that he seemed to be in his own fairytale with his beloved girlfriend, you thought perhaps you should give yourself a chance too. After all, you shouldn’t even keep on hoping for something that you weren’t even sure was worth your time.

It was your first date. Well, it could have been your tenth if you gave up on Charles months ago. It was a casual one. Jake had asked you out to go to the theme park that you had always wanted to go. You went with an oversized shirt and a white short to make is simple and comfortable for you. When you opened the door, Charles was waiting outside, his body was leaning against the wall.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going on a date.” You lifted your leg to put on your high cut converse, one hand on the wall to hold yourself.

“You are going out on a date? I was thinking we could get an ice cream together? Like we used to do.”

“Can’t make it today, Charles. Maybe you should bring your girlfriend.” You fixed the shoelace and straighten your back to see him looking at you with a frown.

“Don’t bring her into this.”

“Oh, wow. I can’t even mention your girlfriend now?” You walked past him and felt his grip on your wrist.

“What’s wrong with you? You have been acting strange ever since I saw you. Did I do something wrong?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line. Were your assumptions wrong all this time? Had he been clueless with your stupid crush on him? If it was obvious enough for your brother to see, how could he still be oblivious? Or was this all just an act just so he could get you to say it to his face so he could humiliate you?

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Let me go. I’m already late.” You tugged on your hand and continued walking away from him.

“Y/N, I haven’t seen you for months. Did you really have to choose your stupid date over me? Are you that desperate to have a boyfriend?”

Your steps felt heavy now. His voice sounded so grating it sent chills to your body. He had no right to say those things to you when he was the one who had been so disconnected every time he came over.

“Why are you mad at me going out on a date, Charles? Do I not deserve to be in love? Or does it sound so impossible for someone to ask me out on a date?” You took a deep breath to fight back the tears.

“That’s not what I meant, Y/N. Look, I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

You rolled your eyes, tongue clicking upon hearing his words. “We spent so much time together every time you came over but you had to check on your phone every second or your little girlfriend wouldn’t stop spamming your phone with calls. Now you are pissed off because I choose to go on a date over you?”

“Why are you so mad at my girlfriend? She has never done anything wrong to you. She was mad because I had to spend my time with you! She was spamming my phone because I had to be at your house playing your stupid fucking card, entertaining you like a fucking child.” Charles was staggered by his own words. He didn’t wish for it to come out that way. He was piqued because you kept on bringing his girlfriend into the conversation when the argument was between you and him.

“I never asked you to come and entertain me with my stupid card game.” Your words broke up. You squeezed your eyelids shut in the hope the tears would stop. “I didn’t even ask you to choose me over her. I know what you’re gonna say. I know, Charles. I know!” You tilted your head back to hold the tears. “Heck, I wouldn’t even choose myself but I deserve a chance to be in love too, don’t I? Even someone pitiful, someone childish like me who only knew how to entertain herself by crashing off her brother’s hangout with her stupid card game deserve a chance to know how it feels like to be in love. I wanna know how it feels like to be those girls that you guys always talk about. I wanna know how it feels like to be talked and praised by men behind my back as if I hung the fucking moon. This is my first date! First date and I have already had someone labelled me as desperate to find love.” You wiped your wet cheeks with your palm and scoffed. “Please don’t come over anymore. You should spend your precious time with her than play some stupid card with this pathetic girl.” You hastened your way without waiting for his reply.

“Y/N!”

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