#but yeah you can have a burger without a bun at all no way is that the most important feature

[bakunawa-in-da-sea]

A/N: Im thinking of Melon, ordered both carnivore and herbivore set at some local Bcdonalds (Idk this was based on chap 139)

What if he can't eat those two sets anymore, he just took 1 bite to each one and doesn't want it anymore since he lost appetite by the taste of it. Then [Name] comes in about to order and well saw Melon since these two have a neutral relationship. Then Melon is would be typa babygirl that would ask you to "finish these, I don't want it anymore".

And [Name] here is like a consuming food dispenser so like once he turns around getting all mad asf and wondering how some animals would say it's tasty and in his mind he's like "fock u mean tasty? I could roast yow body for a meal." typa shi and once he turn to get his gaze back on [Name] boom, [Name] already have ate it both not even giving it a seconds.

Minor Warning:

Awkwardness

Hcs of Melon Reader and Melon actually had a good interactions

bad english

Reader being interactive

Keywords:

Pastil - is a shredded chicken breast mixed with a few spices like turmeric and red chilli. It is mainly paired with rice or burger buns with cheese.

BcDonalds - Basically Mc donalds but in Beastar version

Herbivore set - A whole meal with vegeterian based burger, fries and pie bars.

Carnivore set - A whole meal with high proteins like tofu and soybean.

it's a newday for him to go hunt down herbivores for sport with his crazy ass mind. It's already almost five pm and Melon is already feeling hungry and since the black market is way too far from the location he's currently in, he just decided to enter the local BcDonalds. He's there with his eyes squint, looking at the two options if he wants a herbivore set or carnivore set... but a few moments he just chose them both and for him only. Which made the cashier so surprised, but quickly followed.

Now he just sat there on one of the single bar stools, waiting for his order patiently but the longer some herbivores being nosy the more his patience running thin. He's sensitive to noises and more so Melon keeps responding on his mind and secretly talking shit to them and even wanting to threaten to murder them.

After a few minutes of waiting, Reader somehwhat ran unto him not expecting he'll be here at a local BcDonalds. So then Reader comes in his way and greeted Melon with neutral reaction, it almost pissed Melon but atleast he have someone to talk to now.

"I didn't expected you to be here and what not. Are you my stalker now or something?" Melon asked rolling his eyes and being pissy towards you but not entirely.

"You're overthinking stuff, didn't expected you to be ordering here." You stated.

"well the shit am I even going to do about it? Eat raw veggies at a local stands? Don't bullshit me." Melon gave you a side eye as his hand brushed the line of his jaw.

"anyways, what did you get though?" You asked Melon.

"why do you even care..?" Melon raised an eyebrow at you before he snickered.

"im playing, I ordered both of the sets." surprisingly he were honest about it.

"Were you that hungry? Don't throw it out if you haven't finished it." You reassured a basic concern of not wasting good foods.

"Yeah yeah whatever, im not gonna listen to you though." He teased and would be gladly to throw the goods out without any hint of guilt for that.

"Melon I swear-" That was pretty irritating and not epic at all.

After a while of waiting, the employee settled two trays of the sets and settled his orders there. Melon sighs and took a sniff at the first burger, then there you are smiling at him.

"what are you, doing a mukbang vlog?" You teased at him before he rolled his eyes at you.

"can't you let me just eat in peace?" He stated before taking a big bite to the herbivore burger, before his face twinged in disgust.

"ahh, taste test taste tes! Give it a big nomm" You being comfortable at Melon and even encouraging him to take a big bite made his glare stings at you.

"pwah, how can you herbivores like something like this..?" Melon settled down the burger and get the carnivore burger.

"soo CocoMelon, is it yummy?" You teasingly asked him before shotting you with a glare.

"Very funny, [Name] it made the crowd laugh." He sighs stating it in bitter way before taking a bite to a herbivore burger.

He took a few munch to let the taste lingers before he rolled his eyes again at the taste so bland and almost making him wanting to throw it out.

"And then this one, tasted so sandy.. what a joke." He sighs out of annoyance before his long tongue licked the sharpness of his teeth.

[Name] on the other hand is pretty much interested on his comments to the herbivore and carnivore burgers and so his food reviews.

[Name] snickered and stared at Melon, enjoying how he's experiencing hell with these foods.

"You good?" You asked him, before he sighs and played with the amount of kecthup spreading on the herbivore burger.

"Do I looked like im smiling?" he glares at you, before his ears twitched after hearing a conversation of those two avian herbivores from behind. In his mind he have already killed those two and made a good chiken wrap and pastil burger.

"You looked like, you're gleaming of the taste of it." You can't help but tease him at his lowest ans you didn't care at all if he's about to kill you or not. Before he shooked his head and looked at the other way.

"well you go have it, I don't want it anymore." He almost ordered for you to do it, he knows wasting food is just an ugly thing to do since he probs grew up in streets or orphanage and rarely get food in a week. But enough with that he were staring around and secretly imagining he were already have killed some animals here or searching for a next victim.

You on the other hand would be understanding why he gave it to you, after a minute of Melon's mind overthinking of what he could have done with others here. He gazed back to you only to gave you a concerning weirded out look.

"what the fuck- I only have set my eyes for a second you already have finished em?" His feline like pupils stares at you a bit too weirdly inspecting if you're a creature or an entity.

"what? You said I can go have it so I ate it." [Name] reasoned and get the napkin to brush off the ketchup off it's face.

"you could have atleast give it a small bites.. the hell did you do? did your throat vacuumed the rest? Even the fries here is gone." Melon commented in weirded complaint way, before he snickered by the thought of it and poked your cheek.

"what in the world is your problem with me??" You jokingly complained.

"My problem is that you have a blackhole stomach. Maybe next time I'll bring you around to be my dispenser." He smiled at you his sharp canine teeth showed whilst sitting on the stool still.

"what are you my disney princess?" You pointed at him.

"no? wtf that was an ugly line." He cringed out at that comment before sighing. "I'll be attending to a tattoo shop later, don't follow me." He stated serious at this time.

"what do you think of me? your clingy spouse?" You raised an eyebrow and side eyed him for that.

"I swear you're the most cringiest animal I have ever witnessed in my whole lifetime, be thankful I haven't eviscerated you." He jabbed at your arm for having a way with making him cringe.

"Lah, ew." You rubbed you dusted off your arm jokingly hinting he had virus all over him.

"Don't ew me [Name], okay whatever im off to visit the tattoo shop now." He snickered at your reaction really enjoying this interaction or was he finally be able to feel comfortable again?

[s0ulja-g1rl]

Burger Date

Harold Cooplowski (Coop) x Female!Reader | Fluff | 900+ Words

The smell of grease, grilled beef, and crispy fries filled the air the moment you stepped into Fat Joey’s Big Belly Burger Shack. It was exactly the kind of place you’d expect Coop to love—a huge, neon-lit diner with a menu that bragged “Home of the Monstrosity—12 patties of pure beef heaven” in bold, grease-stained letters.

Coop, of course, was practically vibrating with excitement.

"Aw man, you are gonna love this place." His big hand landed on your back, guiding you toward the counter with all the giddiness of a kid in an arcade. "I’m tellin’ ya, nobody makes a better double bacon triple cheese than Big Joey."

You chuckled, glancing up at him. “You sure you don’t own stock in this place?”

"Pfft, I wish." Coop smirked, already scanning the massive overhead menu. "I’d get free burgers for life."

You could already hear his stomach growling.

Despite his usual slacker energy, when it came to food, Coop took things seriously. He stepped up to the counter, one thick forearm resting against it as he greeted the cashier—a lanky teenager who barely looked awake.

"Yo, lemme get a Quadruple Beastmaster, extra bacon, extra cheese, triple-stacked fries, two chili dogs, and uh—" He turned to you. "What’re you gettin’?"

You blinked. "How do you have room for all that?"

"What can I say?" He patted his belly proudly. "This temple needs maintenance."

You rolled your eyes but smiled. Classic Coop. You ordered a regular burger and fries (y’know, like a normal person), and the two of you grabbed a booth near the window. The faint hum of neon signs bathed the table in warm reds and yellows, and outside, Megas was parked in the lot, way too big for any actual parking space but looking cool as ever.

Coop immediately sprawled out, one big arm over the back of the booth, his fingers idly tapping against your shoulder as he leaned back.

"Man, I’ve been craving this all day."

"Do you ever not crave burgers?" you teased, resting your chin on your hand.

He grinned, looking at you for a second too long before shrugging. "I mean, I could be craving somethin’ else."

Your face heated at the way he smirked—completely unintentional flirtation, or was he actually doing that on purpose?

Before you could respond, the food arrived.

And holy hell.

Your burger looked normal, but Coop’s plate? It was a literal mountain.

"You’re actually gonna eat all that?" you asked, half in awe, half in terror.

"Babe, please," Coop said, already unwrapping his burger. "Have a little faith."

And with that, he went to town.

You’d seen Coop eat before, but this was an art form.

He picked up the Quadruple Beastmaster—a burger so massive it should’ve come with a legal waiver—and took the biggest bite imaginable, eyes rolling back like he’d just found inner peace.

"Mmmmph. Ohhh yeah. That’s the stuff."

You snorted. "Coop, you sound like you just had a religious experience."

"That’s ‘cause I did." He pointed at the burger like it was a divine gift from above. "Look at this thing. It’s perfect. The meat-to-bun ratio? Immaculate. The cheese? Melty as hell. The bacon?" He took another bite and groaned. "Crispy perfection."

"I feel like I should be jealous of that burger right now."

Without missing a beat, Coop grabbed a fry, dipped it in cheese, and held it up to your lips.

"Here. Try it."

You blinked. Oh. Okay.

You leaned in, taking the fry between your lips, the cheese still warm. It was good—really good—but the real distraction was the way Coop watched you. His usual goofiness softened just slightly, his gaze lingering like he was actually enjoying feeding you.

…Was he doing that on purpose?

You swallowed, your cheeks warmer than they should’ve been. "Okay, yeah. That’s good."

"Told ya," he said, popping another fry into his mouth like nothing had happened.

Your stomach did stupid little flips.

Half an hour later, Coop had somehow eaten every last bite of his food. He leaned back with a satisfied sigh, stretching his arms—one of which ended up behind your shoulders again.

"Man, I should get a nap after this."

"You just woke up like four hours ago."

"Yeah, and?"

You rolled your eyes, but then his hand absentmindedly started rubbing small circles against your shoulder.

Your brain shut down.

He wasn’t even looking at you—just staring out the window at Megas like casually touching you was totally normal.

It was NOT normal.

Your stomach flipped. He was warm, solid, comfortable—and if you leaned just a little closer, you could rest your head against his chest and pretend like this was a real date.

…Wait. Was this a real date?

You swallowed. "Hey, Coop?"

"Mm?"

"…Is this a date?"

Silence.

Coop blinked, turning to look at you, his hand freezing mid-rub.

His face turned red.

"Uhh—" He coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean. You wanted burgers. I wanted burgers. We’re eating burgers."

"That didn’t answer my question."

Coop hesitated. Then, with a grin that was both cocky and a little shy, he shrugged.

"I dunno. You want it to be?"

Your heart skipped an entire beat.

This idiot.

You grabbed a fry, popped it into your mouth, and smirked. "Guess that depends on whether or not you buy me dessert."

Coop’s grin widened. "Babe, say no more."

And just like that, he was waving the cashier over for a milkshake—

—Which he absolutely let you have the first sip of.

[askunington-andcompany]

WELCOME TO UNINGTON!

❝ You don't have to believe every single thought that tumbles through your head, just 'cause it sounds like you talking! Sometimes all you can do is say goodnight and tuck your demons into bed, 'cause they're not worth fighting! ❞ - TURN OUT THE LIGHTS, THE CRANE WIVES, 2016

Hi there! Or, as we say in Unington, howdy-doodle! Welcome to the corner of the net where you can find anything and everything to do with the town of Unington! This blog is run by 6 5 people, and we have 2 admins! So, without further ado, let's introduce our lovely little blog's showrunners, along with our admins!

KEL CLOVER ! - 17 | SHE/HER

Hi there! Name's Kel, but my friends call me Kelsey! If you want, you can too! But not Kelly. Never Kelly. I like cats, producing music, and my favorite food is a nice cup of coffee paired with a nice hot bun from The Suave Cafe (or Peggy's, as us locals call it :> )!

my text will look like this!

YASHIRO NENE ! - 17 | SHE/HER

AAA HI EVERYONE !!! I'm Yashiro Nene, but you can call me Yash!! :D Some things abt me!! I like my friends (love you nerds >:] <3), strawberry rice cake, fishies, boys (ignore that, that was cringy :P ), romance novels, disney movies, the occult (somewhat, i'n not toooo into it, but it's fun!) annnnd thats it! I'm suuuper happy to be here! :]

my text will look like this!

MITSUBA SOSUKE ! - 16 | HE/HIM

Hey, losers everyone. I'm Mitsuba, and no, you cannot call me Mitsu like my friends. It's Mitsuba. You hear me? Mit-su-ba. I'm the designated pink guy of the blog (NOT YOU YASH STOP TRYING TO STEAL MY COLOR ISTG IM ABOUT TO WWE GRAND SLAM YOU), and the 'group asshole'. I take that title with pride. Things I like...uh, my friends, begrudgingly, the buns + anything sweet from Peggy's, photography, oversized shit, and...yeah, thats it.

my text will look like this.

KOU MINAMOTO ! - 16 | HE/HIM

Hi! I'm Kou!! My name's too short so I don't get a nickname rip 😞🙏‼️ (Technically they all call me ed sheeran because I'm GINGER but thats MEAN so don't call me that) I'm an exorcist (please do not ask me to prove this I suck ASS at it), and some things about me: I like baking, exorcising ghosts (WHEN I CAN DO IT IM SO BAD AT IT GUYS ITS HONESTLY UNFUNNY), taking care of the house and my friends and family (even if they call me a housewife, i still love you stinkers), and my friends! :]

my text will look like this!

AMANE "HANAKO" YUGI ! - 17 | HE/HIM

Wsp! Hanako here, do NOT call me Amane, I will shove my foot. up your ass. You can call me Hana tho! That is allowed!! Nywho, things about me. I like donuts (ESP FROM THE SUAVE CAFE PEGGY IF UR READING THIS PLEASE STOP REJECTING MY APPLICATION I SWEAR I WONT STEAL ALL THE DONUTS AGAIN I SWEAR I SWEAR), the ladieeeees ;] (and men i swing both ways hmu ;]) [MOD EDIT: Nobody hit Hana up. Please. You'll give him an ego. ~ MOD M], ghosts n spooky shit like that, helping ppl out (yeah ik im "☝️🤓"), animals, my friends, and having fun! I'm a cool dude. I think. [MOD EDIT: Due to the other 4's request, I would like to state that no, Hana. You are not as cool as you think you are. ~ MOD M]

my text will look like this!

MOD TEAM!

here, we would like to highlight our two amazing mods who're helping with the blog!

BENDY ! - "NOT TELLING!" | HE/HIM

Howdy! Name's Bendy! You probably know my face from your childhood, haha! Anyways, I'm a father of one, unhappily married, I like the arts, the burgers from Peggy's, and moneyyyyyy >:] That's all, folks!

my text will look like this! my mod edits will be signed off with '~ MOD B'!

MONIKA SALVATO ! - 37 | SHE/HER

Hi! I'm Monika, but you can call me 'Mon', if it's easier! I run a club with me and my four best friends (Sayori, Yuri, Natsuki, and MC! Love y'all :] ) called the literature club! It's fun. Anywho, I like coding, baking, piano, valentines day, and the color emerald green! (P.S. Thanks, Kel, for letting me use it :] ) I'm a mother, and a wife, sadly. I'm so happy to meet you all!

my text will look like this! my mod edits will be signed off with '~ MOD M'!

Whoo-wee! That was a lot of people! Welp, at least you got to meet us all! Well, we're all so excited to be here, and thank you for stopping by! See you all soon!

~ The Unington Crew

KAI DREW - IN LOVING MEMORY

Kai Drew was Unington's shining star, a singer, a daughter, a sister, and a friend to all. She was 17 years old, and a firecracker to boot. Nothing could keep her down.

Also, she's not dead.

She just left to go on tour in this town called Hatchetfield and we really miss her.

Girl

Come back girl we miss you :[

TAGGING SYSTEM:

#kelsey speaks - Kel's tag for posts! #yash's yaps - Yash's tag for posts! #mitsu contributes - Mitsu's tag for posts! #hana says shit - Hana's tag for posts! #kouposting - Kou's tag for posts! #mod b: back from the dead - Bendy's tag for posts! #mod m's quotes - Monika's tag for posts! #ask and ye shall receive - Tag for posts where asks get answered! the proper tags for which character is speaking will be added!

[silent-raven13]

Sunflower, will you...

Miles turns his body on his seat wearing all white since him and are friends celebrating him and Hobie's anniversary. They decided to do a beach party with at Miguel's private beach house in 928 world.

Everyone is always impressed how much money Miguel has, even when it comes to owning HQ and multiple houses- probably Lyla is able to make him rich quick with her skills.

Anyway, everyone was out wearing nice beach dresses and outfits to fit the warm Spring celebration. There was games, drinks, food and music on the large patio. Peter 616 working with Miguel on the grill, since he claims his burgers are amazing, while Miguel claims his carne asada is better than Peter's basic burgers.

"Oh come on, Miggy. My burgers are true! You can't have a beach party without burgers?" Peter said out loud wearing an apron that said 'The Grillfather', while bits of his gray hair fell over his head.

Miguel scoffs, "Pfft, una carne asada is the best way to good. Así!" He flip a large piece of steak on the other part of the grill while he wore 'Kiss the Chef' apron. He ran his mix of brown and gray hairs back with his hand feeling the windy sea salt breeze. "Gabriella, tráeme una cerveza!" He needed a cold one for today's perfect weather.

"Yeah,. Mayday! Get me one too!" Peter shouted.

Jess stood with MJ with a chuckle, "Men and their grills."

"Tell me, about it. Peter bought so many BBQ books to make the perfect burger." MJ giggles.

"OKay. Okay!" Gabriella said out loud with Mayday follow her as the two were busy playing Volleyball with Gerald and Billie.

Miles chuckles watch those two old Spider-men never stop bickering at each other. Gwen came by wearing a white tank top wearing flowy linen skirt, she had her long blond hair still dyed in rainbow colors underweight style, she still had her shave side with long side bangs , "Ohh, looks like your bae is coming this way."

"Hahaha, of course." Miles faces his partner, seeing Hobie walking over wearing loose linen casual short sleeve button up shirt, and some shorts with flip flops. Of course, he's wearing in black with some Hobie's punk touches to remain true to his fashion aesthetics. His button up shirt wide open to reveal his bare chest.

Unlike Miles, he wore all white with a bit of yellow flowers and cute designs and long cotton mix linen pants with flip flops. Pavtri stood with his wavy long hair tied into a man bun, then grins showing a bit of wrinkle smile, "Ohhh, what's he up too?"

Hobie came up to his partner with a smile on his face seeing his old Spider band friends around them. "Sunflower..."

"Bae." Miles smiles at him, showing the same love as they were sixteen. Nothing has change. Hobie had his longer thick wicks and grew out a goatee, which looks so handsome on him.

The tall man got down on one knee making everyone looking over with snickering and smiles. "Sunflower, will you marry me?" He grins widely with a playful smile, he reveals a box with a simple ring.

"Awee!" The women were awed at the romantic gesture while the men were chuckling.

Miles couldn't help letting out a shrill of giggles, "Hobie, we been married for thirty years now. You don't need to ask me every year to marry you."

Gwen and Pavtri laughs out loud. Hobie gave a puppy pout with his eyes going big like a teary Precious Moment character, "So, is that a no?"

"Aye, este chico." Miguel commented at this ridiculous proposal. The Spider Punker always do this since those two married.

Gabriella, a woman laughs at her dad's words as she passed him a beer, "Papá, you shouldn't be drinking so much. The doctor said you need to watch your intake."

"Ah, that doctor can go kiss my ass. I work too damn hard as Spider-man." He took a cold beer.

Mayday giggles, "I think it's cute. Hobie really loves Miles." A young Spider-woman with long wavy red hair as she handed a beer to her dad.

Miles cup his husband's face with his thumb gently massaging Hobie's cheek, his big doe eyes staring deep at his Punker's eyes, "Hobie, mi amor. No matter how many times you ask me, I will always say yes! I love you. So, yes, I will marry you." He gave him a peck on the lips.

Hobie happily took the kiss as the two been happily together in their fifties. He hugs his husband, "That's what I like to hear." Hobie put the ring in his husband's ring finger which made Miles giggles.

"Bae, you gotta chill with the rings. I don't have enough fingers for all the rings you give me." Miles kisses his husband again.

"I can't help myself, luv. This one is special, I made it mi-self, darling." The punker saw his husband's smiles widen showing more of his wrinkle smile. Even though, they were older they still look good for their age. His heart melts still seeing his Sunflower's big honey-brown eyes as if they first dated.

"Mm, then I'll have to wear this everyday then." Miles admire the gift, "I love it, bae. Thank you."

"Anything for you."

Billie already a grown woman happily went over to hug her big brother, "Awe, so cute. Hobie, how long your gonna do this? Don't you think proposing him every year is a bit much?"

"He loves me, boo-boo." Miles hugs his little sister. She grown to be a Detective in helping him solve cases on the Justice System and him being Spiderman.

"I will always show my Sunflower's my dying love, right luv." Hobie's one arm wraps on his husband's shoulders.

"I say keep going. It's so cute!" Pavtri said happily.

"For real, it's not hurting anybody." Gwen added.

Gabriella went over being so happy, "I wish I can find someone like you two! Ugh, but the dating community is sooo toxic right now."

"Your world, too!" Mayday gasps in shock, "Same!"

"Yeah, me too!" Billie let go of her brother to talk to the other women. "Like it's so shitty even when you try to get a good sneaky link."

"Aye, language!" Miles said, even though his sister is a grown woman, he always see her as his little boo-boo.

"Awe, what did I do?" Billie pouts.

Mayday giggles, "Come on, Miles! We're grown. We like having sex and meeting random guys on-" Gabriella roughly nudges her as she spotted their dad's glaring over. "Aye May, sshhhh! Our dads are listening!"

"Opps!"

"What was that May?" Peter asked in a serious tone.

"Nothing!" Mayday quickly said.

Miguel arched over to his daughter, "Hija, who are you seeing?"

"No one, papá!"

"Lyla!"

"No, papá! You can't make me be your little girl forever!"

"Like hell I can!" Miguel huffs.

Miles and Hobie chuckles as they got up to walk along the beach with their hands together, They tightly held each other, "Happy 30th anniversary, luv." Hobie felt Miles' head laying his head on his shoulder as they found a spot to watch the sunset.

"Mmm, happy anniversary, mi amor." Miles kisses his husband cheek. "I love you so much."

"Me too, darling. Me too." They nose nuzzle as the sunset and they kiss as a way to complete their perfect day. The party continues on with the craziness of their friends and families.

[nickgerlich]

Between Two Buns

Sometimes I go to the vault to find a topic for The Daily Blog. After all, there is a wealth of teachable moments in the past. If there is one thing we marketers will be remembered for is that we are a bottomless pit of newsworthy actions, from amazing successes to dismal failures.

And as it turned out, Oldest Daughter shared a TikTok Reel with me a few days ago recounting one of those successes. I quickly knew I had to use this tale once more, which I had covered in The Daily Blog on 5th December 2018. From the 4th through the 12th that month, Burger King trolled McDonald’s by launching a promotion that required people to go to McDonald’s first.

Huh?

It was all about what was then a fairly new idea, geofencing. Basically, it involves setting up a virtual perimeter, and typically, businesses set one up around their own property. But Burger King did the opposite, setting up the perimeter around 14,000 McDonald’s locations. Once within the perimeter, which was usually set at about a 600-foot radius, an offer of a 1-cent Whopper would pop up in the Burger King app. The goal was to divert customers, and the effort has become legendary.

Of course, there is always risk in sending potential customers to a competitor first, and Burger King had to think strategically as to which McDonald’s locations to fence, because if there wasn’t a BK unit nearby, people would probably give up and just get a Big Mac. And if you didn’t own a smartphone AND had not downloaded the app, this promo just went flying right by your head.

Still, this was guerrilla marketing executed pretty much without flaw. Well, except that once Burger King did it, I have not heard of it being done again, at least not on a large scale. It’s one of those things that everyone quickly figured out could be used endlessly against anyone. Including you. Remember that Golden Rule? Yeah. While BK was no doubt giddy about this, imagine if McDonald’s had responded in kind? Or, worse yet, all the other burger joints formed a coalition to show Burger King a thing or two?

At some point, you just become a bad neighbor, and while it is always possible to play this card, maybe you shouldn’t. Tit for tat, you know. It might not end well.

That said, I am still a big fan of geofencing when it comes to your own property. Burger King could have done the whole promo using its own locations exclusively, but no. They wanted workers and managers in those McDonald’s locations to see people pulling in, and then leaving without ordering. That’s both diabolically delicious, as well as cruising for a bruising.

Looking back nearly five years now, we see that while the promo was a hit, it didn’t really change anything. Burger King has only a 1.2-percent share of the market. You really don’t want to poke a sleeping bear, and in this case, the bear—McDonald’s—could have crushed BK if it wanted to. Burger King should count its blessings.

And we should count this as yet another example of a high-tech strategy that worked, but one that should be realigned to focus more on the marketer and not so much on the competitor. Just because you can, does not always mean you should. It was cute. Some might say brilliant. I agree, but it was risky.

I’d put that fence over on my property, and work on being a better neighbor. Robert Frost once wrote, “Good fences make good neighbors.” I’m with him.

Dr “Having It My Way” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[unavernales]

Noori would snort softly. Yeah, he couldn't risk getting Serghei killed over some redwine, the man became too much of a part in his life. Disgusting, in a way, how he found himself so drawn to a person that he found it hard to not imagine them in his life. Especially one disgusting frat boy... but Serghei was dreamy. The dimples, the died hair.. that stunning body. And besides that, he was doing so good, despite being a frat boy he was.. good. Noori found himself looking at these guys with disgust, usually, not when it was Serghei, which was overly pathetic. "Yeah that is indeed a sad excuse for food. You missed the best part of that burger, I think. What is a burger without buns." Noori pointed out, lip twitching shortly while he kept them from moving into a disgusted grimace. "I saw someone replace the buns with big slices of onion.. isn't that bizarre?" With a hint of curiosity, Nooris head would tilt to the side when Serghei, for the first time, mentioned a sister. "Cheer and dance? I know some girls.." And maybe she was one of them? And just when he was about to ask for a name, Serghei distracted him with a more important issue. Noori himself. "I do deserve to be pampered, don't I?" He was grinning and after giving Serghei one more, long look all over his form, he did move closer. He deserved it. "You've been good, you know. getting me that nice dinner.." Catlike, he moved closer, wrapping his arms around the males neck while pressing their chest slowly together. "I start to think you really care about me." And then, Noori tiptoed, brushing their nose together shortly before he ended up kissing him slowly, eyes contently closed.

"can't have that now, can we?" serghei teases lowly, all but melting into noori. he's so easy in noori's hands. he knows it, but is too enamored to care. noori is different. beautiful in a way that's almost terrifying. sharp. high maintenance and worth every nitpick. hands move immediately to the shorter's hips, then further to cup at that glorious ass. kneading at the plumpness, serghei lets himself get lost in noori's lips. it's slow and lazy at first. inevitably, like in every aspect of his life, serghei wants more. gets greedy and slides his tongue to the roof of noori's mouth before hoisting him up to the counter so they can be impossibly closer, sliding between the other's thighs now that they're at the same height. one hand slides to grope at a thick thigh while the other cups noori's jaw. a nip is granted to noori's bottom lip before serghei pulls away just enough to speak. "want me to have my dessert first?" he thumbs over noori's bottom lip, plumped and red and oh so tempting from their kisses. "god, you're irresistible, baby," he murmurs and goes in for another brief kiss, lips lowering to press incessantly against noori's jaw, neck, and collarbone. "you have no idea what you do to me."

[itsybitsybatsyspider]

Okay, so imma project my interests onto my current hyperfixations. And thank you @hamartia-grander for enabling me and understanding my thought process <3

so anyway

Sixty loves to cook.

it was something that no one really expected, especially from the standoffish, reluctant deviant, but somehow it piqued his interest. He somehow caught a glimpse of a video playing on Youtube and it all just took off from there.

It started relatively, small. Following some video instructions, diving down the cooking rabbit hole, looking up basic techniques and tricks, and the uses of specific knives and such. And then it just evolved from that.

Sooner or later, he was buying ingredients to try the video tutorials himself. Paying attention to the results from each one, and if one didn't turn out the way he hoped it would, he tried again, this time eliminating the mistake that made the less-than-ideal results.

the concept that truly makes him interested, is the constant learning and improvement. He can only become better by trying again and moving forward, so that's what he does. Almost obsessively sometimes. He was supposed to be the superior prototype model after all. But he can only improve through trying again. This time without making as many mistakes as his past self. until he's good enough

It also leads to Hank just having a shit ton of leftovers in his house that he doesn't know what to do with. And with him and Connor witnessing Sixty's increasingly ambitious projects.

Hank: what's that you're working on? Sixty: marinading chicken in buttermilk for fried chicken tonight. Hank: Oh nice, sounds good.

Hank: Whatcha got this time? Sixty: I plan on making homemade burger buns for tomorrow's dinner. Hank: oh... well that'll be interesting

Connor: why is there flour everywhere? Sixty: I'm making pasta Connor: but there's flour on the ceiling? Sixty: .... it's very excited

Hank: Oh FUCKING CHRIS- SIXTY! Can you tell me why there are CHICKEN SPINES in the fridge? Sixty: I'm making chicken stock. I plan to use it for chicken noodle soup. Hank: Couldn't you literally use any other part for this? Sixty: But we used the chicken wings for last night's dinner and i'd already saved the broken down chicken. I didn't see the point in buying more and wasting perfectly good spines. And they have the connective tissue and cartilage I need. Aside from that chicken feet would've worked fine but- Hank: okay please stop

Sixty: psst... Hank Hank: .....oh god....what is it? Sixty: I made soup Hank: ......... Sixty: do you want some? Hank: .......it is 3 in the morning. Sixty: yes, i've been working on it for eight hours Hank: .... yeah alright

(was that last one inspired by true events? Perhaps)

Connor gets him a chefs knife for his Activation Day and Sixty is OBSESSED WITH IT. He takes such good care of it, and purchases a whetstone and honing rod to keep it maintained.

As soon as North finds about it though, she pulls him aside one day and goes,

North: So, i heard you got a Seido knife for your Activation Day. A Seido Kiritsuke Damascus Chef Knife to be specific. Sixty: Yes I did. Why do you ask? North: You want another one? Sixty: ....

Connor: where did you get all of these knives so quickly Sixty: I know a guy

...

Sixty: what do i say when they ask where I get all of these knives North: just say you know a guy

...

Hank: so just to be clear, we both know it's North who's giving him the knives right? Connor: oh, obviously. I didn't need to be a detective android to figure that one out.

he starts a Youtube cooking series that's just him with a passively aggressively voice over. It's getting subscribers.

Nines tolerates cooking. He sees it as a way to show his love for others but outside of that he isn't as into it as Sixty.

Connor has too much anxiety around cooking. He can do it, but he'd be a perfectionist. None of his dishes turn out the way he wants them too or when they do he still manages to find something to nitpick. It's only because of Hank and other human coworkers and their kind words that dont lead him into completely giving up on the hobby.

Sixty leaves food for people without telling them. Whole ass casseroles and family dinners show up out of nowhere.

He'd rather die than tell them it's him.

His passive aggressive Youtube series starts getting popular.

Oh god where did he get all the knives??

(feel free to add on if you wish)

[bitchassbucky]

.exe

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning/s: stalkers, bucky being a creepo, reader being a creepo. dark!IT!bucky x dark!reader :-) female & male masturbation, voyeurism (i think), cyber crimes being committed.

A/N: this is my birthday gift to @babyboibucky <3 to my boo, I love you and you have a special place in my heart. this is gonna be a multi-part thing, it's too long to be considered as a one-shot, oops.

please enjoy! :D

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist

CTRL moodboard

4:49 PM

Just 11 more minutes until he can pack his bags up for the weekend.

One new ticket - URGENT

Goddamn it.

Bucky pulled his earphones out in annoyance, just another office idiot who doesn’t know how to print A4 sheets. If the office were to be held hostage and printing out was the only thing that can save them, half of the floor would be dead.

The new name caught his eye, Y/N Y/L. A new hire, it seems like.

Subject: One new ticket - URGENT

Hi, this is Y/N, employee number 0008675309. I’m new here and was told to send a ticket for the equipment request.

Thank you and have a great weekend!

Oh, Bucky’s gonna have a great weekend indeed. Out of pure curiosity, he’s already pulled up your employee file. A cute smile to a cute name. His annoyance dispersing already, just by thinking of ways how he can spend time with you.

Hey, Y/N! Bucky types into the text field, Welcome to the company. I’m Bucky and I got assigned to help you get settled. Do you prefer having a desktop or a laptop? I’ve attached a form in this thread, send it to me once you’re done.

Have an awesome weekend too!

As much as he hates sending out chirpy emails, he can’t help but to smile when you immediately send a reply back.

Thanks, Bucky! So sorry for sending in the request super late. Got caught up with the onboarding. Is it okay if I use my laptop until we can get a unit to my place? PC or laptop is fine with me.

Best,

Y/N

Bucky fights off another smile, rubbing his hand over his stubbled cheek as he carefully types out a reply. Unlike other days, he doesn’t mind staying beyond 5 PM today. It’s not like he has other plans for his Friday night.

No worries, Y/N. He’s already loving your name. Happy to help!

Do you have your laptop with you? I can set it up before you go home for the weekend. I can probably send in the ticket to the guys so you can have your work equipment next week.

His deft fingers are dancing over his mechanical keyboard, clacking away while the clock ticks closer to the weekend.

A ping, another reply from you. You’re new, you’re still excited to make friends in the office. If you only knew how stupid they are, though.

Yeah! I have it on me right now. I actually work on the same floor, I can drop it off there right now.

Bucky glances around his office, looking for any reflective surface he can check himself on. He runs his hand through his hair, taming any stubborn locks that fell out of his low bun. His shirt hangs just right against his huge frame, his pants hugging his figure, accentuating his silhouette even more.

Just as the clock ticks 5:00, a soft knock raps against his door, “come in!”

You are cuter, prettier in person. Your perfume hits his nose and he’s floored—metaphorically.

“Mr. Barnes,” you say, your demeanor somewhat meek and shy. Well, of course, you are. Your frame is nothing against the hunk of the man who just stood up to greet you.

“Bucky.” He prompts, smiling. You reciprocated the smile, but you really weren’t sure what to expect. Maybe a scrawny little dude mousing away on a keyboard?

“Bucky, thank you so much for doing this. I know you’d rather get off of work since it’s Friday and all.”

He hums, taking your laptop in his hands. You notice the rings adorning his fingers—complementing his tanned skin tone and—it’s not appropriate to stare at a stranger’s hand.

Heat creeps up your face as he turns to look at the stickers stuck to your laptop, “you know, I like this band.” Bucky says, pointing to an old sticker, he carefully sets down your laptop on his workstation.

“They’re great,” you muse, taking a seat on a plastic chair by the door.

You take a gander around his small office. There was nothing out of the ordinary but the big black server blinking at the back, so why do you feel trapped?

“Sorry about the temp, we have to keep the room cold for the server in the back,” Bucky explains, noticing how your arms are crossed over your chest. The skirt you’re wearing isn’t doing you any better too.

You stammer out an it’s okay with a small smile.

Bucky worked on your computer quietly, using a USB stick to load all the applications you need to set up a temporary work account on your laptop. After a few minutes, he beckoned you to come here. You scoot over to his desk, rolling the chair forward and beside him. Not too close though.

“So, this note has all your generated passwords. Type those into the app when you first log in, then you can change it if you want to.” Bucky explains, the cursor idles on the screen. He tries not to get too close to you, to give you personal space. It’s a professional workplace after all.

“This app,” he drags a window, pulling up an application, “tracks your hours and your keystrokes. It’s company-mandated because managers want to micro-manage their people, I guess.” Bucky shrugs, his disdain showing through his voice. His tone shifting lower than what you’d expected.

“Sorry, I just hate their new protocol,” his face and voice softening as he looks at you, “it’s a total privacy breach if you ask me.”

You’d normally disagree but something tells you that maybe he’s got a point. Your breath hitched in your throat as he leans closer as if to whisper something, “this note right here? It’s a nifty thing, a little script so your computer doesn’t go to sleep when you’re away. It enables and disables your numlock pad so it counts as a keystroke.”

A smirk finds its place on your face, “well, that’s…something, isn’t it?”

Never in your life would you find yourself flirting with a co-worker but there’s something about Bucky that made you excited. Interested. Intrigued.

Bucky nods, rolling his chair away to fetch a pad of sticky notes. “Another thing from your friendly neighborhood IT guy,” he peels off a leaf and sticks it on your laptop’s built-in camera, “keep your cam covered.”

You give him a chuckle and a playful salute, “yes, sir.”

Bucky’s a modern man. He sees a pretty girl and he gets giddy. He talks to a pretty girl and he gets flustered. But you—you make him feel more than giddy and flustered. There was something familiar about you, and your eyes. Has he seen you before? Met you, even? No, that’s impossible—if he had met you before, he’d surely remember you.

It was 5:34 PM when he gave you your laptop back and sent in an urgent request for your equipment. While taking down the elevator to the lobby, Bucky gave you a few tips on how to ‘survive’ working in the office. According to him, as far as you go in on time and kept your head above the rumors, you’d do fine.

He asked about your first week and he told you about this joint near the building that serves the best burgers and fries.

You’ve got a good feeling that you just made your first friend.

—

The sun was already setting down when you pulled into your apartment’s parking lot. At the very last minute, you turned into a drive-through and got some food on the go. The side trip took out 10 minutes of your time but at least you dodged the awful traffic that was building up by the highway.

Along with your laptop bag and your food, you trudge up to your third-floor apartment. It wasn’t what you wanted—the windows faced the street, the screen door doesn’t lock all the way—but it’s the one you got. As long as it’s got four walls and a roof, right?

You slip out of your work clothes and into some comfy jammies after a rewarding shower; the sooner you can get your food heat up, the sooner you can eat, and drink and then go to sleep.

So while waiting for the microwave to beep, you pry open your laptop. You told Bucky not to shut it down after he worked on it as to not lose your work on another profile, which he understood.

The work account he set up greeted you, along with the bright pink sticky note he stuck to your webcam. That wasn’t real, was it? All those cautionary tales of hackers using webcams to peep on you. Maybe he’s just trying to scare you, like some kind of initiation. Without a second thought, you took off the sticky note. It was kinda annoying anyway.

Clicking the Log Out Work button, your personal account popped into the frame. Your opened apps and documents displaying themselves for you to use. You pulled up Spotify and clicked on the first playlist you saw—which happened to be your intimate playlist.

Sure, the Pavlov reaction is real because halfway through the first song, you already found yourself getting all hot and bothered. This one’s your favorite song too.

You groan in annoyance, your food’s no longer a priority.

Picking up the laptop from the table, you walk to your bedroom, not bothering to shut the door. You live alone, it’s fine. You put the laptop on its loudest setting, setting it on your desk and you plopped down on your bed, the pillows and the comforter pooling on one side.

Your room is illuminated by a streak of light from the street. Your curtains flowing softly with the breeze that just came in.

Glancing at your laptop, you remembered Bucky. How his office smelled when you first walked in. How he stood tall when he greeted you. How he smiled. Those goddamn rings of his.

Before you caught yourself thinking rationally, your fingers are already splayed even over your thighs, caressing the soft flesh of your legs.

Bucky’s smirk and his cologne finding purchase in your fogged brain. Thoughts of him pulling you aside into his office to fool around—voices above hushed whispers as your skin erupts in goosebumps, the chilled air of his office finding its way up to your spine.

Oh, fuck it.

You undress fast, flinging your shirt over your head, dropping it somewhere below the bed. The air in your room making your nipples hard and erect as you pinch them. You breathe out a sigh, the heat of the moment creeping up your torso.

The material of your panties dampening as you imagine yourself bent over his desk, your skirt bunched over your hips as he laps your sopping cunt. Bucky’s tongue exploring your folds up and over until your pussy’s a quivering mess of drool and spit.

Your fingers slip past the band of your underwear. Even you surprised yourself by how wet you are.

God, you met him once and he’s already inching his way into your mind.

But who could blame you? You’ve been all over his Facebook profile when you learned his name via the office’s organizational chart. The first time you saw him, walking around the office with a laptop in his hands, you already knew you wanted to at least formally meet him. A scroll on his page, you found a band that you could tolerate listening to. (They’re okay, just not your taste in music.)

A plan came to mind when your department head told the team that you can work from home from time to time—only if you agreed to use a work laptop, a company-owned one. Your manager advised you to put in the request as soon as you can, for you to secure a unit before the on-hand supplies dwindle.

Deliberately sending in the request late—way, way later—than what your manager told you just so you could pull up the ‘new hire’ card and act dumb.

And it looked like he bought it too.

The image of him fucking you quiet while he grabs you from behind played inside your mind like a memory—a vision. Of how his thick cock would fill you up until your pussy is clenching around him. Would he pinch your throbbing clit, making you squirm and cream around him?

Your fingers are compared nothing to his, that’s for sure. But it does the work for now.

A breathy moan comes out of your mouth as you play with your clit, your cunt dripping down wetness as you continue to fondle your tits.

His hands would make a great addition to your chokers.

Your toes curl and your breath quickens, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening—white-hot heat creeping up your limbs.

Oh, fuck, Bucky!

—

His ears perked up as he heard you moaning his name.

Bucky was busy watching you enjoy yourself when he got caught in the moment and decided to enjoy himself too.

He was barely keeping himself behaved when you first walked into the floor wearing a button-up and slacks that accentuated your backside. Bucky wished he was the one who gave you the tour and know your name for the first time, but that was impossible—he was in the IT department.

So when he got the news that new hires will be given the chance to work from home, he hoped that he gets to be the one to help you set up.

He was losing hope by the time he got your request, he thought that you opt not to work at home but then there you were, sending him an apologetic email on a late Friday afternoon.

Of course, he happily obliged. He even set up himself a little virtual camp in the background of your computer just so he can continue spending time with you.

Just thinking about you is already making him hard again. Bucky already came in hot spurts of white as he watched you desperately undress earlier. What can he say—he was waiting for you to show your tits already. As such, he correctly guessed that you’d be annoyed with the glaringly bright sticky note he used to ‘cover’ your webcam with.

But seeing you fingerfuck yourself all alone just wasn’t enough for him, he has to have you all by yourself.

[otaku-trash]

Chapter 1

Main Masterlist

The Gang’s Soulmate Masterlist

Next Chapter

‘Onee-chan always told me to follow my heart. To fight for what I believe in, yet here I am now living in a trashy apartment. Listening to the news on a crappy TV screen.’

“Now a news break. The escalating dispute of the Tokyo Mange Gange and its rivals is believed to have just claimed several additional victims. Naoto Tachibana and Hinata Tachibana who are believed to be brother and sister.

“Did he really just say Hinata?”

There was also a Hanagaki Y/n and Hanagaki Kaji, a mother and son who were also in the car with the Tachibana siblings during the accident.”

“Onee-chan and Kaji too.” 'No way this can’t be happening. They were supposed to come home for the holiday.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘The subway was packed today. People coming in from left and right. Coming and going without a care in the world. Honestly why did it have to them. Hina, my girlfriend and soulmate since I was in middle school. Then there's Y/n my older sister and basically mother to me since our parents died. Kaji was only thirteen yet he’s dead. He barely even got to live his life.’

Not seeing the hand reaching out towards him. Takemichi Hanagaki was pushed onto the subway train tracks just as the passing train was coming. Lifting his head up, Takemichi sees the train lights flashing as the large machine comes barreling towards him.

Closing his eyes as he braces for impact, but it never came. Instead he finds himself standing in a subway train that was brightly lit, the complete opposite of the one where he got hit, or should have got hit.

“Oi! Takemichi, are you going to be staying in the train all day? Come on, get off the train.” came a voice from across Takemichi.

“Oh yeah. I- uh sorry i’m coming.” stuttered Takemichi.

What the hell is happening. Is this my life flashing before my eyes? Am I reliving the time my life was absolute shit? Wait, does this mean that Hinata, Y/n, and Kaji are still alive?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Seriously Takemichi, that's all you ordered fries and only a small?" asked Makoto Suzuki in disbelief from the lack of food the blond teen ordered.

“Yeah, I still need dough for the way home after I visit Onee-chan.”

“Na. You would get home somehow.” Kazushi Yamagishi waved off.

“You know it’s lucky for us that your cousin is the third year Leader of Shibutani Middle School.” Atsushi Sendou aka Akkun said proudly.

“Yeah cause now if any third year tries messing with us we can just call out for Masarue.” Yamagishi said with his checks stuffed full with his burger he decided to order.

“Yeah we're going to go and start a fight!” Makoto exclaimed enthusiastically. As a fire was lit inside the other boys leaving Takemichi confused.

“Wait, you guys want to start a fight, but why?” Takemitchi asked, mortified and confused about what his friends from the past were talking about.

Passing confused glances between each other Takuya Yamamoto decides to speak up for the four boys, “Takemichi the other guy all think we’re wooses. We have to fight.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘That's right. I remember now. We went looking for some second years to beat the shit out of, but it ended up with us getting our asses handed to us by the Shibuna third years. We ended up becoming their slave. Duning as they said no matter what they asked of us. That’s why I left right after graduating middle school.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Takemichi it’s good to see you dear. Are you here to see your sister and nephew again?” asked an older lady sitting behind a counter. Her hair was starting to gray at the roots of her hair that's all pulled back into a bun at the base of her head. Wearing a white button up nurses gown and cap.

“Ah- uh y-yes. I am.”

“My word, what happened to you?” The lady said as she rushed to Takemichi’s side checking him over. “Your sister is going to tear you a new one when she sees you like this boy.” she signed while shaking her head in a disappointed manner.

Laughing nervously Takemichi rubs the back of his head, “It’s really not that bad Mrs. Takashi. Only a few scraps.” he reassured. “How are they?”

Straightening her back, Mrs. Takashi starts to lead Takemichi down the car door. “Kaji is doing phenomenal. The drugs are almost completely out of his system.” She paused before continuing, “Y/n has been doing well too. Physically at least mentaly… she’ll need time to heal, and a lot of it. Other than that they’re both on the way to a great recovery.” giving Takemichi a small smile. Mrs. Takashi knocks on the dark oak door before pushing it open and letting Takemichi in.

Walking into the room his eyes land on the girl sitting directly in front of him. Her short black hair just reached under her chin. She’s wearing a light gray loose pajama kimono top and tight black leggings with white fuzzy socks sitting in a chair by a large window. In her arms he can see an infant's feet and a yellow knitted blanket thrown over the girl's shoulder and covering the rest of the infant’s body.

The room was small. An L shaped couch up against the wall with the window. To the right of the room was a small twin size bed with a small cot beside it. A night stand was placed on the opposite side of the bed along with a small walk-in closet that was left slightly open.

“Onee-chan? I’m back.” Takemichi muttered softly to not startle the nursing infant. Cracking a small smile Y/n turns her head towards her younger brother. Gold eyes widening from his bloody face, and the black and blue marks littering his body.

“What happened to you Taka? Get the first aid kit from the closet, and come here.” Y/n rants while waving her right hand all over the place.

Taking long strides, Takemichi takes hold of Y/n’s hand to calm her down. Giving her a closed eye smile, “I’m fine One-esan really. The guys and I only got into a small fight. Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

Squinting her eyes Y/n eyes him skeptically. “Muh, so if I ask Akkun what happened he’ll say that you got into a small fight. No casualties?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“...”

“...”

“You're a terrible liar, Takemichi.” Y/n deadpans.

“You don’t have to remind me.” Takemichi complained as a depressing aura surrounded him as his older sister started to release a hearty laugh. “Alright. Laugh it up.” he pouts.

“Oh. I will laugh it up.” Y/n mocked. Feeling the infant detach himself from her chest she turns herself away from Takemichi who turns his head away from the two.

“How’s he doing?” He decides to change the topic.

“Better, doctors say we should be able to leave in a few more weeks.” Laying Kaji over her shoulder she attempts to burp him after adjusting herself to be comfortable once more.

“They said I should try to feed him with a bottle. That he’s getting too big to be breastfeeding.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘I remember this. Every Tuesday and Thursday I would visit Y/n and Kaji at the hospital. Sometimes I would bring the guys over and they would try their pick up lines on her to see if it would work on some of the girls at our school.

Sometimes he would be here and beat the crap out of them even if he knew they didn’t like her romantically. She would scold him every time for bullying “her kids” and at times would say he was banned from holding Kaji.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Taka, why are you crying?” snapping out of his thoughts Takemichi turns his head to see his sister’s worried gold eyes and his nephews piercing purple eyes staring at him.

Whipping the tears away he sniffs, “Nothing. Everythings perfect.” he gives her a blinding smile.

“Baka.” Kaji pointed at him, “Baka”

“WHEN DID HE LEARN THAT?” Takemichi screeched, pointing an accusing finger at his eleven month old nephew. “AND WHY AM I THE BAKA, BAKA.”

Turning the infant towards her Y/n raises him to her eye level and says in a baby voice, “Say papa has been a bad influence on you since the doctors said that your intelligence is higher than other babies your age.” siting Kaji in her lap she turns to Takemichi giving him a sarcastic smile.

Kaji looks up at his mother’s smile and turns back to Takemichi and gives him the same sarcastic smile as his mother.

“I feel like you're ganging up on me.”

Glancing at each other, Kaji shakes his head while Y/n replies with a nope popping the P at the end.

Turning to look outside, Takemichi sees the sun almost completely set, “I should get going, it's getting late and I promised Hinata that I would visit her tonight.”

Standing up and giving a quick side hug to Y/n and gently ruffling Kaji’s hair he tries to sprint out of the room only to stop at his sister’s voice. “Takemichi, you know if something is bothering you, you can tell me right.”

Freezing by the door Takemichi glances back giving Y/n a smile, “Nothing’s wrong Onee-chan, promise.” before dashing out the door.

Signing Y/n looks out the window to see Takemihi running down the sidewalk. You always have been a bad liar Taka, but what are you hiding this time Ototo-san?

“I just missed him didn’t I?” a deep voice asked from the doorway.

Turning around, a smile stretched across Y/n’s lips as she saw Kaji’s father standing by the door. “Yeah you did.”

Walking towards her he places a gentle kiss on her lips. Before reaching out and taking Kaji from his mother’s hold and cradles him towards his chest. “So, how’s our little man doing?

~A/N~

First chapter done. And left on a cliffhanger too. Sort of. I already hate myself for doing that but I also wanted to give you a sneak peak on who the baby daddy is. I will try to add another chapter in the next few weeks but I can't promise anything. Have a nice day all of you beautiful readers.

[dwaynepride]

just like we were kids

pairing: young!gibbs x reader, young!ducky + reader

summary: 5 times gibbs kisses you and 1 time ducky kisses you.

warnings: reader is kidnapped, mentions of rope burns

words: 4,196

a/n: very loosely based off the 400th episode but not strictly

It’s been a very long day.

Gibbs sat next to a crying baby on the bus riding into DC, the hotel receptionist gave him a hard time when he tried to check in, and he was forced into the trunk of a car with a gun pointed to his head.

“He forced you, Marine?”

Gibbs withheld an annoyed sigh; only because this agent was pretty alright. “There were civilians around. Didn’t want to risk it.”

“Noble,” the agent responds. “But a gamble.”

Yeah. A gamble that only sorta paid off because Gibbs knows you’ll give him an earful just as soon as you get here.

“If it wasn’t for that idiot driving on the wrong side of the road, you might be the one in our morgue.”

God, Gibbs hopes he doesn’t say that when you’re around.

In the distance, he hears the elevator ding. And the agent motions toward it. “Now, you got a chance to say thank you. Looks like he’s back from the hospital to give his statement.”

Gibbs turns, spotting the man in a bowtie with his arm in a sling and talking the ear off of the women who brought him up here. The Scotsman was ranting off about American driving habits, no doubt blaming it all on why he crashed. Hearing it makes Gibbs smirk.

“Mr. Mallard,” the agent greets.

“Actually, Dr. Mallard. Well, former doctor,” he corrects.

Without any hesitation. Jethro likes him already. “Sergeant Gibbs. Former trunk.”

That’s when Dr. Mallard finally looks to him, paying little attention to the scrapes on his face. “Ah,” he replies. Gibbs can’t help to notice he looks just a little amused.

“I owe you a drink,” Jethro says.

“Well, that depends,” Mallard intercedes immediately. “How do you feel about scotch?”

“I’d feel better about bourbon.”

“Sold.”

Smiling, Gibbs reaches forward to shake the other man’s hand. They reflect each other’s expression - Dr. Mallard pleased for a free drink, and Gibbs just happy to be out of that trunk. “It’s the least I could do, considering your car was probably totaled-”

“Jethro!”

Oh no. Gibbs and his rotten luck was about to rub off on you.

He hadn’t even prepared anything to say. Hadn’t thought of a special way to ease your worries because Gibbs has been too caught up with the NIS agent and giving his statement. So when he looks over Mallard’s shoulder, watching as you march up to him with wide eyes, Gibbs visibly winces. “Hey. First of all, I’m okay. Second-”

“How could you possibly be okay?” Your eyes were immediately focused on the red scrape on his forehead - right now, he figures you’re expecting the worst. “This is serious, Jethro. How do you think I would’ve felt if I got a call saying you were dead? I know you like to think you’re big and bad, but-”

“Have you met Dr. Mallard?” Gibbs immediately turns your attention to the Scotsman in the bowtie, who immediately greets you with a tight smile once you face him. “He’s the one who saved me. Kind of.”

“Only by sheer stupidity, believe me.” Mallard reaches out a hand, and after a moment, you take his. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You let out a tiny sigh, seeming to Gibbs like you were winding down, now that you’re sure he was okay. “Thank you, Doctor. As you can tell,” you snap your eyes to Jethro, “he gets himself into trouble, a lot.”

Gibbs says nothing, now that the eyes of four different people are on him. He shifts his weight awkwardly, reaching out to grip your arm and pull you closer. And to really suck up to you, he leans over to press a kiss against your temple - he hopes that’ll be enough of an ‘I’m sorry’ for now. “Well, the Doctor’s gotta give his statement so I think we outta let him,” Gibbs says, hoping to turn the attention off of himself.

“Yes, of course,” Dr. Mallard agrees. Gibbs is grateful - up until Mallard faces you again with a smile. “Though, you should most definitely join us for a drink. It’ll be on his tab, and you’ll be there to keep him out of trouble.”

For a moment, Gibbs feels almost defensive. He’s about to speak up, but before he can say anything, he sees you nod your head. Even worse, you’re smiling. As if agreeing with Mallard that Jethro needs watching over.

Though, you’re smiling now. Maybe it’s not so bad.

-

It’s late. And the coffee doesn’t seem to be working anymore.

Gibbs had training for staying up all night. There’s been times when he’d gone three days with only a couple hours of sleep. But even that would’ve been preferable to sitting at a table, staring at files and papers, and listening to Dr. Mallard’s mumbling.

“It doesn’t make any sense...we’ve got to be missing something...”

Yeah. No kidding.

Gibbs rubs his eyes with a long sigh. He’s tempted to just call it a night and try again in the morning when he and Mallard are rested up. But Jethro stays - much too stubborn to walk away, even if it’s past midnight.

He has his chin propped up on his hand, fighting the alluring close of his eyes, by the time Jethro hears the front door close and your footsteps against the wood floor. “You guys are still awake?”

“Yeah,” Gibbs mumbles.

“We’re nearly finished,” Dr. Mallard says - he’s slightly more awake, but not by much.

“Right,” you reply. Jethro recognizes the disbelief in your voice. It’s the same tone you use with him a lot. “Well, are you two hungry?”

Coffee is the only sustenance he’s had all night. At the mention of food, Jethro looks over. And a grease-stained paper bag has never looked so amazing. “Is that…”

“Just some burgers from a diner. Not many places are open this late, so it was a bit of a drive.” You approach with the food, and Jethro stands to take the bag from your hands. And you’re smiling at him - looking tired, but still so sweet and soft and it immediately relieves the ache of exhaustion from Gibbs.

You drove all around town to bring him and Mallard some food. He didn’t deserve you.

“You didn’t have to,” Jethro says. Though, he handles the burgers like an injured puppy. “We got stuff here…”

“Don’t be ridiculous, man.” Dr. Mallard stands as well, taking the bag from Jethro and opening it up to retrieve his burger. “It’s not right to downplay the generosity of your partner. Try thanking her.”

Gibbs narrows his eyes at the other man, but his hunger wears down his stubbornness. The burgers smell fucking amazing, and Dr. Mallard is right.

He looks back to you, steps in closer, and leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. Your skin is cold from the night air - Gibbs feels bad that you went through the trouble. “Thanks. We appreciate it,” he says lowly. If Mallard weren’t here, Gibbs might’ve dragged you to bed. Warmed you up and thanked you in his own favorite way.

He notices your flush. Maybe you picked up on his own personal thoughts, somehow.

So Gibbs looks away, reaching out to retrieve his own burger before the doctor notices anything. And you clear your throat, smiling at the both of them while backing up. “Well, enjoy the food. I think I’m gonna go get some sleep. Try not to stay up all night, you two!”

A smirk comes over Jethro’s lips as he falls back down into his chair, and he doesn’t notice Mallard watching him until Gibbs is just about to take a big bite out of his burger. His teeth are on the bun when his eyes flicker up. “Wha’?” He asks hotly.

Dr. Mallard simply shakes his head, taking his seat and moving his files aside to make room for the burger you brought him. “Nothing. It’s just that...she’s a keeper.”

Jethro didn’t need some Scot to tell him that.

-

“Keep looking out here! I’ll check inside!”

Jethro didn’t bother yelling out an acknowledgement. He took off in the other direction, letting Dr. Mallard make his way into the dark, silent building by himself. Maybe if his heart weren’t pounding so fast or if he weren’t so fucking angry and scared and worried, Gibbs would be smart and think about Mallard’s safety.

After all, if these scumbags had the balls to take you, what’s to stop them from killing him?

Jethro doesn’t think about that, right now. His shoes pound against the pavement, swinging his flashlight around wildly. The parking lot is empty and pitch black - the shine of the flashlight barely does anything to cut through the darkness. He tries to stem his breathing and silence his heartbeat; just in case you’re crying out for him.

He hears nothing. The taunting hoot of an owl, but that’s it.

This is his fault, of course. Everything is his fault. Maybe if he just left the case alone and let those agents deal with it, you wouldn’t be missing and he wouldn’t be running around trying to find you. Dr. Mallard tried calming him down and reminding him that they’re trying to get these bastards off the streets for this very reason.

Doesn’t seem worth it, though. Not when it comes to you.

Jethro takes a few more steps, panting hard, still straining his eyes against the blackness. His grip on the flashlight is so tight, his fingers start to hurt. Maybe you’re not even here. Maybe they got it wrong. Maybe they missed something-

There. On the far end of the parking lot. Something reflects the light of his flashlight, and it’s too big to be anything but a vehicle.

Immediately, Gibbs takes off again. His shoes barely hit the concrete with how fast he’s running, and when he finally reaches the car, he shines the light inside. Finding empty seats, Jethro’s stomach drops.

That is, until his eyes find the trunk.

Jethro calls your name as he comes around to the hitch. His breath is stuck in his lungs, and he barely even registers the light tapping from inside the trunk before he yanks it up.

You flinch at the sudden bright light. Hands coming up to shield your face, balling yourself up tighter. Gibbs immediately notices little red lines around your wrists. Notices the little tears and scuffs on your clothes. He shakes with something mixed with rage and relief.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” Jethro breathes out. He tucks the flashlight under his arm to reach out for you. His hand on your arm seems to calm you - it lets you know that you’re safe and he’s got you and everything is okay now. You peek out from behind your eyes, cheeks wet from tears but they’re not wet enough to loosen the tape strapped to your mouth.

Jethro reaches out instantly to pull it off. He’s slow, gentle, and as soon as your lips are visible, you suck in a deep breath. “Jethro…”

“I’m here. You’re okay now.”

He tries his best to hide the tremor of his hands as Gibbs takes his knife out and cuts the rope off your wrists and ankles. These bastards really went all the way - taking you and terrorizing you just to get to him and Mallard. He’d make sure they paid.

As soon as you’re freed, your arms are wrapped tight around his shoulders, face pushed against his chest and sniffling. The flashlight is obscured, but Jethro doesn’t need to see the harsh tears staining your cheeks. It’s bad enough to hear your little whimpers of his name, and the most he can do is hug you back and murmur out comforting words.

Eventually, you pull away. Still leaning on him, not even pulling yourself out of the trunk yet, but wanting to see his face. “It happened so fast,” you tell him, voice small. Jethro frowns as he fits his hand against your cheek - there’s a bruise there that concerns him. “And they were saying how you and Dr. Mallard were getting so close, and I was insurance, and I didn’t know if you’d find me, and-”

“Hey, I’ll always find you, okay?” His thumb caresses over your cheek, mindful of the purple bump there. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. You shouldn’t have gotten caught up in this. I should’ve protected you better.”

Your eyes are wide and frightened, but the way your eyebrows quirk together slightly tells him that you probably had something to say. Probably to negate what he’s said because he knows you don’t like when he says things like that. Blaming himself for things he can’t control.

Instead, Jethro leans in to desperately press his lips against yours. The kiss tastes like salty tears and a hint of blood but you hold onto his jacket so tight that he doesn’t even think about if the kiss might hurt.

He was worried. You were scared. He just wants to kiss you.

And even the sound of Dr. Mallard calling his name from across the parking lot isn’t enough to break it.

-

“She’s fine, right? That’s what the doctors said?”

“That’s what I said,” Mallard tells him, voice tight. But there’s an empathetic look that helps calm Gibbs down a bit. “I assure you, I wouldn’t lie about her condition. I checked her over myself - the worst of it is only the rope burns on her wrists.”

Gibbs breathes a little easier. It’s been a wild couple days and it feels like the first deep breath he’s taken since.

“I assume you’d want to see her.”

Jethro nods his head once, brow furrowing together. He’d done enough waiting.

Dr. Mallard smirks before he turns and walks with Gibbs down to your room. He knows it’ll be hard, seeing you laid up in the white hospital sheets. It was hard enough pulling you from the trunk of the car and sitting with you until the ambulance came. Hard enough having to put you on the back burner to finish what he and Mallard started. The guilt was still there, of course. He knows you don’t blame him, but it’s not enough.

Gibbs feels a nudge against his arm, and he looks over to find Dr. Mallard watching him. “You should be happy,” he points out.

“I am.”

“I hope you’ll be a better liar once we get in there.” Gibbs scoffs and looks away, but the doctor isn’t done. “You’re fortunate it wasn’t any worse. With the men we were dealing with-”

“Yeah, I know, doc. They coulda killed her, or worse. And it would’ve been my fault because I wasn’t smart enough to think ahead and protect her.” Jethro turns back to Mallard, and he doesn’t bother to hide his scowl. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“Yes. It is,” he replies boldly. Fucking of course. Gibbs is tempted to walk off before Mallard's gaze turns more sympathetic. “But that’s not what she wants to hear. So better to get it all out right now so you can’t dump all those guilty feelings on someone who’s already been through enough.”

He hadn’t thought of it that way.

Jethro’s eyes drop. Mallard was right, of course. It pissed him off to admit it, but Gibbs probably would’ve gone in there and apologized for something you didn’t really want to relive. Another case of him not thinking.

Dr. Mallard pats him on the shoulder. When Gibbs looks up, he motions to your room with his head. “Well, let’s get a move on. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

And Jethro will be glad to see you, too.

He wastes no time reaching your door, and he carefully opens it but can’t help poking his head in just as soon as he can. Gibbs doesn’t quite know what to expect, and even with Mallard peeking in from over his shoulder, he feels like he should be walking on his toes.

But the image of you sitting up in bed with a smile proves him wrong.

“Hey! You’re here!”

Jethro doesn’t reply. He just smirks and revels in his relief that you’re actually okay.

“Of course, we are!” Mallard replies, moving past Gibbs to approach your bedside. “We wanted to tell our partner about the outcome of our little investigation, didn’t we, Gibbs?”

Jethro’s eyes move away from your bruised face, glancing to the doctor before nodding once. “Yeah. Bastards got caught trying to leave the state. They got ‘em at the border,” he tells you. Though, he can’t keep his eyes from wandering. Your arms, once so soft, are marred with bandages and bruises. Jethro reminds himself to breathe.

“But obviously, we were also worried about you,” Dr. Mallard adds on. His tone is softer, this time. And as Gibbs moves past him to take the seat by your bed, he continues. “You’ve got nothing to fear. They can’t ever hurt you again.”

Jethro reaches out to take your hand, and you squeeze his right back. Dammit, Mallard was so good with that heart-to-heart stuff. It never really occurred to Gibbs to put your mind at ease, like he had. He’d just been so angry and guilty and worried - well, it goes to show how much more you deserve than him.

“Yeah, I know.” Your voice is light. A little hoarse. The sound of it makes Jethro tighten his grip.

“He’s right,” Gibbs speaks up. And when you turn to look at him, he makes sure his face is hard and determined. Not as shaky as he feels. “I’m never gonna let something like that happen again. I promise.”

“Yeah,” you respond. “I know.”

Your smile grows. Just a little, because of the bruises. But it prompts one on Jethro’s face, and as his chest gets a bit tight, he softly lifts your hand up. The bandages cover up the ugly rope burns around both your wrists - they’ll go away in a few weeks. Still, he places a soft kiss on top the bandage. Just to help you heal a little faster.

-

If it were up to Gibbs, he would’ve taken you right home and let you rest. And personally, after all the bullshit, he really just wanted a quiet night with you and a couple glasses of bourbon. And no Dr. Mallard.

Things never usually go as planned for him. A night at the bar is in order to celebrate.

Though, Jethro can’t complain much. You’re seated on his lap, and he’s free to wrap his arms around your waist and tug you close and glare at anyone giving you a second look. Call him protective, but he’s just being safe.

And he let you and Mallard chat away about the case. Mostly about how the NIS agents took all the credit for bringing them in.

“It’s unfair,” you say crossly, glancing back at Jethro before looking to the doctor again. “Do they know how much danger you guys put yourselves in? Or what I went through? And they get the credit?”

Jethro’s grip on your waist tightens. He smirks when he feels your hand settle on his arm.

“It’s not really about the credit,” Mallard replies, leaning back in his chair with a shrug. “For me, I’m just happy those bastards won’t be out terrorizing any more innocent people. I looked into some of their victims - poor unfortunate souls who wouldn’t have been missed by anybody. No friends. No family. It’s a real shame.”

The table grows quiet, even as the bar ambience around them is still as loud as ever. You end up leaning back against Jethro; likely needing his comfort.

And he readily gives it. Because you so easily could’ve been one of those victims. Not unknown without friends or family, like the others. But still gone. Still ripped from Jethro’s arms.

“Would’ve missed you,” he finds himself mumbling.

Gibbs didn’t intend for you to hear. He was counting on Dr. Mallard keeping your attention. But it seems like the music and the chatter wasn’t enough to keep his mindless words from your ears. Because as soon as he presses a light kiss against the ball of your shoulder, you’re twisting your head around to smile at him.

His eyes immediately dart away, because he knows the kind of smile you’re wearing.

“Have a little too much to drink, Jethro? You’re getting all affectionate.”

“Yes,” Mallard speaks up, happy to change the subject. “I think he’s gone on to his third glass of scotch!”

-

It’s one o’clock in the morning. Gibbs kept checking the time.

He wouldn’t say anything about it, though. Not when you were having fun and relaxing after that whole ordeal.

Still, Jethro couldn’t help a little sigh when he finally stepped out of the bar. He holds the door open for you and Ducky - a nickname you’ve given the Scot that took the hold of liquor to stick.

“Well, that was a jolly time. Been a while since I’ve had a sip with companions I could tolerate a conversation with. I’ve found there’s very few people in America who want to sit down for a drink in a pub…”

“Bar,” Jethro says. He hears your soft snort of laughter from behind.

“Bar,” Ducky repeats with a smile only a drunk man would wear. It brings to mind when the doctor had been teasing Gibbs about drinking too much. And just as he goes to sit down on the curb of the street, you’re right there to help him down. Preventing the intoxicated doctor from falling straight on his ass and patting his shoulder once he’s leaning against a stop sign.

Jethro smirks at the sight, shaking his head lightly as he approaches the street to flag down a taxi. Yeah, it was late. It’s been a trying couple of days. But he can’t admit that he didn’t have a little fun. Ducky attempting to teach you some Scottish drinking songs was surely a highlight.

His hand waves up at an oncoming taxi, and thankfully, it notices him and veers over. “Alright, doc. Time to get you home. You know the address of your hotel?”

Gibbs comes over to help you pull Ducky back up, but the other man just regards him with a huff and a frown. “Of course I do, Marine. I’ve got a very good memory, you know. Like a Bottlenose Dolphin. Do you know it’s theorized that dolphins have an even longer memory than elephants?” Ducky stumbles a little over his own feet, almost falling into the street in front of the taxi. But Jethro catches him before he can fall. “Imagine that: a whole metaphor undone because of a single study…”

“That’s very interesting, Ducky,” you tell him lightly, a giggle edging your voice.

Jethro pulls the door open, intent on helping Mallard in so you don’t strain yourself doing it. But the doctor puts a hand on the roof of the cab, balancing himself so he can turn to face you. He’s reflecting your easy smile, and Jethro can’t help but narrow his eyes as he watches the doctor lean over to take hold of your hand.

Is Mallard some kind of drunken flirt? Gibbs fixes his jaw.

“You’re a very charming person, and I do look forward to working with you again. I pray it’s sooner rather than later,” Ducky says. And with no hesitation, he presses a chaste kiss against your knuckles - still a bit tender, but you don’t look as if it bothers you.

Which is why Jethro is tempted to just shove Mallard into the taxi and send him on his way.

Granted, the kiss was brief. He releases your hand and turns to Gibbs, whom he gives a brief nod to. “Same to you, Marine.” And with that, Dr. Mallard ungraciously climbs into the backseat of the taxi, and Gibbs can tell he’ll be chatting the driver’s ear off the whole way. His voice fades as the car drives off.

“That was fun.”

Immediately, Jethro’s eyes leave the cab to look at you. “The drinking, or that kiss?” He asks maybe a bit too sternly.

Your eyes go wide in surprise, lips slowly quirking upward as you gaze up at him without a word. And Jethro winces inwardly at the can of worms he likely opened without even meaning to. He turns away, intent to find another cab for the two of them. But you’re not ready to drop it. “Well, I don’t know. Which did you enjoy the most?”

“Geez,” he mumbles. “Ya know, we should’ve just stayed home. You’re really in no condition to be out and about.”

You don’t reply. Instead, your arms appear right around his waist, closing tight and leaning up against his back. He’s thankful for the position, at least, so you couldn’t see the smirk on his lips. And when Jethro places his hand on your arm, he’s careful to avoid the bandages. He wants to touch your skin, anyway.

“Y’know, Jethro, if you wanna kiss me, you don’t have to wait until after Ducky does it.”

[langdxn]

OMGGG PLEASE WRITE FOR STAN ✨✨🖤🖤

well if you insist...

off the record | stan bowes x reporter!reader

WARNINGS: pretty graphic smut, fingering, vaginal sex, pet names errywhere, trump mentions, dom!stan

WORDS: 2.9k (excessive but necessary)

A/N: 110% not proofread yet so apologies for any errors which i’ll fix tomorrow.

The hustle and bustle of 5th Avenue spared Stan the embarrassment of leaving a torturous meeting at work. Tumbling out into the chaos of the New York streets offered him the anonymity he craved after a confrontation with Matt, the ability to blend in amongst the faces that couldn’t recognise him from the next suited, briefcase-toting businessman.

Bursting out of the doors to Trump Towers, Stan dropped his briefcase and rinsed his face with both hands, pressing his fingers to his eyes in a vain attempt to wipe away the day he’d just had. In that moment, no eyes were trained on him, no pressure on his shoulders, no demands of his time.

That is, until a sugary voice broke the crowd’s monotonous buzz.

“Trouble in economic paradise, honey?”

Stan’s hands dropped to his side as he searched for the source of his interruption, eyes intently scanning the street until they fell upon you, leaning against the building’s opulent marble pillars at the entrance.

“Sorta,” he mumbled under his breath, a grimace gently tapering his lips as he gazed down at his shoes. In an attempt to avoid your attentions, he trained his sights on a particularly worn paving slab. His distraction worked right up until your heels clacked toward him and planted right on his slab, the smoke from your cigarette swirling in his peripheral vision — there was no avoiding you, no matter how hard he tried. Stan’s head raised to meet your gaze, his deep brown eyes betraying a sadness and insecurity he may never put into words.

“I hear Mr Trump can be a harsh master,” you goaded your victim into spilling his guts, taking a deep puff of your cigarette before blowing it back to hover over his brown curls like a makeshift halo.

“I... I wouldn’t know, I barely see him,” Stan confessed, grabbing his suitcase and nodded toward the street. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Miss.”

Time for drastic action. The brunette stepped toward the street, ready to dismiss this exchange and continue his day.

“I smoke out here to drive your boss up the wall, you know,” you called after him, booming over the hubbub on 5th Avenue. “Admittedly he doesn’t come out much, but that jerk-off on the 41st floor certainly reads me for dirt every Friday night. What’s his name, Matt Bromley?”

Stan stopped in his tracks.

“Oh, so you know him too?” You pressed, pacing toward him with a staccato clack of your heels.

“He’s my superior, or at least he pretends to be,” Stan turned to face you, that same pained smirk dancing across his cheeks as his voice cracked between sentences. “Be careful around him, yeah? He’s not exactly one of the nice guys.”

“You’re telling me,” you scoffed, taking another swift drag while tipping your head to the side. “Luckily if he laid a finger on me, I’d put it front page of the Post and he’d never work in this overpriced dump again.”

“You’re a reporter?” Stan’s eyebrows quirked, intrigued but nonetheless concerned. Should he even be talking to a reporter like this? Will every word that passes his lips end up on tomorrow’s front page? He shook his head to dismiss any suspicious thoughts, he certainly didn’t have the headspace for that yet.

“For now,” you admitted with a pout and an eye-roll. “Your asshole ‘superior’ tries to rectify that on a regular basis. Keeps telling my boss I’m soliciting outside Trump Tower instead of reporting. Always digging through my personal life and not coming up with so much as an overdue rental VHS. Someday my editor will believe him, but I’m on my last warning as it is.”

“Seriously?” Stan’s smirk grew more sympathetic with the realisation one more life was being wrecked by the man he had the misfortune of sharing a floor with. “That’s pretty crazy.”

“That’s Manhattan, honey,” you smiled warmly at him. “Don’t worry, I’m not doorstepping you, I just happened to be here on a tip-off.”

“A tip-off? What sort of—.”

Stan cut himself off on hearing the approach of a familiar obnoxious voice on a cell phone booming in the golden foyer behind your exchange.

“Shit, that’s Bromley,” Stan panicked, suddenly grasping your arm and leading you away from the door, casting your half-smoked cigarette to the kerb. “Let’s get you outta here.”

“My nameless knight in shining armour,” you chuckled to yourself, somehow instincively following his lead on the street until you merged with the throngs of passers-by. “Where are we going, sweetie?”

“My name’s Stan Bowes, and I have absolutely no idea where we’re going.”

———

“You don’t look like a Stan,” you mused at the businessman seated across the table from you, tapping your chin with a finger as you contemplated alternative monikers. “More like a... Colin? Peter? Yeah, you’re a Peter—.”

“Can we just... rewind here?” Stan interrupted, eyes darting frantically at your surroundings, scanning the faces at the other tables. “D’ya mind explaining to me why we’re in a Five Guys right now?”

“You’ll thank me later, toots,” you quickly dismissed his objection as you swirled your soda cup in your other hand. “You think your psycho friend from the 41st floor’s gonna look for you in a diner? He’ll go straight to the Plaza... or even Indochine. Never a Five Guys. Plus, I needed somewhere I can afford to pay the bill so the Trump Organisation expense account doesn’t feel the burn.”

A wordless nod and raised eyebrow from your company suggested his silent approval, but his hands idly toying with the burger before him betrayed his confidence in your genius escape plan. Folding the lettuce edging out from beneath the bun, tugging at the rings of onion and nervously picking the sesame seeds from the top.

“You never told me what your tip-off was. What were you doing outside my work?” Stan raised his manhandled burger to his mouth, daring to undo all the strategic dismantling he’d just put into action.

“Somebody told the office that the blonde egomaniac at the top of your food chain is planning to run for president.”

Stan nearly choked on his first bite, resisting the temptation to spit it out in shock. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

“‘Fraid not.”

“That... that can’t be true, he’s too busy with the plans to buy the Plaza two blocks away.”

“The Plaza?!” Your inquisitive voice changed pitch.

“Yeah, didn’t you know?” Stan screwed up his face. “Wait— you’re not gonna print this, are you?”

“I’m not here to rat you out,” You raised both surrendering hands in the space between you. “See? No notebook, no tape recorder, no agenda. It’s just me and you, baby.”

The brown haired man smiled warmly, visibly releasing the tension in his shoulders, comforted that he wasn’t being examined.

“So if you’re not here for business, why is a beautiful girl like you talking to me? I’m nothing special, I’m just a guy in an overpriced suit.”

Caving into the temptation to look him up and down, your gaze wandered to Stan’s hands, gently trembling as he held his burger.

“Because I like you, Peter,” you grinned at the sound of your company’s new moniker. “You and that suit. But you’re so much more than that suit, you know.”

“Eh, I’m not so sure about that. Matt doesn’t seem to think so either.”

“Screw what Bromley the office bully thinks,” you slammed the table with your palm. “This is about you. The guy who stopped to talk to a girl who looked like she was hustling outside your building, the guy who’s not afraid to sit in a diner with a total stranger to save her from his coworker. Face it, Peter, you’re one of the good guys.”

His lips tapered into a warm smile. “Thank you, miss, for not jumping to conclusions about me.”

“Don’t get me wrong, the pinstripes suit you. They’d look better on my floor, but...”

Stan immediately looked up from his food to your eyes, scanning for any sign of humour or any chance you were just trying to make him feel better.

“Did you just—?”

“I think I did!” You giggled, a hint of disbelief in your own words. “Is that a problem?”

Frozen in the moment, Stan just stared at you for a minute. His next move was exhilaratingly unpredictable, leaving your heart rate thundering in your ears, but something about the shimmer in his eyes suggested you wouldn’t have to worry.

“Peter, what’s wrong, did I—?”

You were cut off by Stan’s lips crashing into yours, lunging over the table and hooking a hand around your neck to draw you in. His kiss deepened with every second, dipping his nose into your cheek and moaning softly into your mouth. As you parted, his ear-to-ear grin beamed back to mirror yours.

“Yuppies don’t kiss like that,” you joked.

“You should see me in the bedroom,” he retorted with a laugh.

“Deal.”

———

Hollywood movies were right about one thing: sex in the throes of passion often starts in the same way — bundling through your lover’s uptown hotel room with your legs wrapped around his waist while he juggles his keycard, both peppering sloppy open-mouthed kisses and showering each other with distracted affection until he drops you onto the satin sheets.

Stan, courteous as ever, gently placed you on the sprawling bed without his lips leaving yours, crawling between your thighs before thinking how to undress himself. With both his hands preoccupied passionately lacing into your hair, you grasped at the hem of your dress to take it off yourself.

“Hold on, princess,” he muttered into your mouth, immediately untangling a hand to trace down your figure and met your attempts to hitch your skirt. “Let me strip you.”

Stan thumbed at the edge of the fabric, savouring the moment before you became so much more than a beautiful stranger to him, before slowly rolling your dress up, passing your neck and whipping it over your head to limit the time before he could kiss you again.

“Peter, are you sure about this?” You queried out of respect while casting aside his evidently expensive belt, tearing his braces from his shoulders and laying waste to his shirt buttons.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he hummed against your lips between hot and ragged breaths. “And my name’s not fucking Peter.”

Stan made light work of yanking your panties down to your knees around him, unhooking them from one leg for quicker access and throwing the bundle of lace across the room, soon followed by your bra. In the blur of clothes flying, you tackled his suit pants down to his knees and slipped his silk boxers to join them. The less you thought about those silk boxers, the better.

With no clothes left between you, Stan pressed his bare chest against yours, his heart racing so fast it could burst out of his rib cage.

A needy groan erupted in his throat as he tore his lips away from yours, journeying to pepper heated kisses down your throat, sucking gently as his lips reached your collarbone and followed south to your breasts. While his tongue expertly swirled around one nipple, his hand travelled to the other and kneaded hungrily, gently rolling the hardening bud between his thumb and forefinger.

Your soft moan as he sucked harder gave him the signal to trail his fingers down your frame, his palm traversing the plane of your hips before he reached your exposed clit, tracing lazy circles around your bundle of nerves. Your back arched wildly into his touch, reaching a hand to wind into his brown curls when your helpless, urgent moans grew in volume.

“Don’t worry baby girl, I won’t leave you hanging much longer,” Stan whispered through a satisfied smile against your breast. “I just need to taste you first.”

His circling finger journeyed south to track around your folds, swollen and pulsing in anticipation of his next move. Slowly dipping the tip of his finger through your soaking entrance, your hips bucked upwards and instinctively widened your legs beneath him.

“That’s my good girl, spread yourself wide for me.” Stan’s eyelids fluttered excitedly, adding another finger inside your aching cunt and hooking both to graze your soft walls. His lips left your nipple so he could gaze at your form writhing beneath him, completely at his mercy.

His curled fingers pressed urgently into your walls, building an uncontrollable pressure within you and forcing your eyes to roll to the ceiling. Stan noticed you nearing ecstasy and immediately withdrew his dripping fingers, raising them to his lips and pressing them to his tongue.

“I knew you’d taste like heaven,” he cooed gently, lifting up to dip his head into your neck placing searing hot kisses beneath your ear. “Cat got your tongue, Miss New York Post?”

“I... I...,” you stuttered weakly, your whole body alight with waves of heat and anticipation you’d never felt before. “I...”

“You’re not usually this quiet,” Stan whispered. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I... need... you...”

He hummed contentedly, trailing his hand south to line the head of his cock with your throbbing entrance.

“What’s that, princess? You want me to fuck you?” Stan questioned with false innocence, a devious smirk plumping his cheeks. “You’ve been such a good girl waiting for me, I think you’ve earned it.”

In one smooth rock of his hips, Stan’s length slipped through your folds and bottomed out inside you. Your eyes journeyed to the ceiling as he filled you, spine arching recklessly craving more friction. He drew his hips back slowly, but his next thrust slammed his cock inside you so hard, you let out a hollow gasp.

“I know baby, I know,” Stan comforted you, curling his hips to ensure every thrust brushed the tip of his length against your deepest points and revelling in your squirms under him. “You’re taking me so well.”

Lost for words in the stars emerging in the corners of your eyes, you remained speechless as Stan broke down every single one of your weaknesses and turned you into putty in his hands. Jerking uncontrollably and sinking your head back into the pillow with every devastating thrust, Stan kissed your exposed neck and moaned deeply. Seizing his opportunity, both hands flew to lightly grasp your throat, his thumbs calmly resting on your windpipe — his aim wasn’t to choke you, just to hold onto you enough to assert his ownership of you, claiming you as you writhed beneath him. He leaned back to admire his work of unravelling you, possessing you.

“Look at you,” he hummed through a grin, not missing a single beat of his determined thrusts. “You’re so, so beautiful.”

Chasing you to your height of ecstasy once more, Stan’s staccato rhythm jackhammered into you at the same rate as the tremors consuming your body beneath his. Your vision of his bouncing brown curls above you started to fade behind the glittering haze taking over your mind. Fighting for consciousness, you stuttered a hollow cry for release as you approached your climax.

“Stan, I— I need to... I’m gonna cu—.”

“It’s okay baby, I’ve got you,” Stan reassured, wrapping an arm around your neck and pulling you into his chest as his hips grew frantic and sloppy. “Let go for me.”

With a deep growl and a final erratic thrust, Stan spilled against your walls, flooding warmth inside you that sent your head dipping into the pillows. His lips gently pecked your throat again as he poured his length back to the depths of your pussy, pushing his load as far inside you as possible.

Emerging from the depths of the pillow as you regained control of your legs wrapped around his waist, Stan slowly drew his hips back and slipped his length out from your swollen folds, his gaze dropping to your entrance as if making sure his cum wouldn’t drip out. Content that he hadn’t left any suspicious stains on the hotel sheets, Stan returned to gaze into your eyes and beamed from ear to ear.

“You... you called me Stan?” He quizzed while tumbling down to the pillow beside you, a puzzled eyebrow quirking beneath beads of sweat.

“You called me princess,” you retaliated with a joking tap of his chest. “I think we’re equal here, don’t you?”

Stan chuckled to himself and turned to face you, propping his head up with an exhausted, trembling hand. A palpable silence fell as he composed his next sentence.

“Was this, er... would you... can you...,” He stumbled nervously over his words; his assertive alter ego must have left as soon as he came.

“Cat got your tongue, Mr Trump Organi—“

“Stay.”

Your gaze dropped to your chest as you laughed it off. “As much as I’d love to, I got the feeling this was just a one-off for you?”

“That’s what I thought you wanted, too,” Stan confirmed with a quirked eyebrow.

Chuckling to yourself, you shook your head to dismiss all the worries that the dapper businessman would make you do the walk of shame once he’d finished.

“Then I’ll stay, sugar,” you beamed, settling into Stan’s chest as he scooped his arm beneath your head.

“We’ll get room service to dry clean your dress and I’ll drive you to work in the morning, if that’s okay?” Stan’s courteous streak had definitely returned.

You smiled broadly, nodding against Stan’s chest and swooping an arm around his waist.

“Besides, now you can tell me all about that presidential tip-off you had,” he quizzed. “Trump may be an extremely powerful guy, but he’s never gonna be president…”

[erectionsandtea]

Poly party summer fun headcanons bc 😄 (I'm sorry I'm advance that this is so fucking long please forgive me) (you can find part 2 here)

Part 1

Pool party:

IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER

- El learns the usage of the word "hot" (regarding attractiveness, not temperature) when she sees Max in a two-piece swimsuit

But then Mike is like "what about me?" cos he's totally jealous and wants El's attention too, but before she can respond Max is like "you're not hot, Mike, you're more like cute in a nerdy kind of way. I guess." and El is like "yeah, you're a cute nerd!" and Mike is like "ex-fucking-cuse me??"

And then Will is like "I think you're hot" and Mike is like "thank you-"

"but you're still a nerd"

"you're a nerd!" and he grabs Will and kind of traps him in this hug and says "but you're a cute nerd" and then a cute kiss

And El is giggling at byler but still staring at Max too, and Max is yelling Byler to get a room, and Lucas is just rolling his eyes at everyone but he also keeps getting distracted looking at Max, and Dustin is yelling at everyone

"for the love of god, can you guys stop flirting for like two minutes and help me set up the snacks??"

And Suzie is like "I'll help you, Dusty-bun"

"you're the best girlfriend in the whole world"

*giggles* "you're the best boyfriend in the whole galaxy!"

"well YOU'RE the best-"

(cos Dustin and Suzie like to do this weird one-upping kind of thing ???)

And then everyone is just like "okay okay, we're coming!" and "we're helping, geez!"

- Max totally helped El shop for and pick out her swimsuit, something that would show off her cute bod and drive Mike crazy (but also herself), and "damn girl, you have no idea how good you look" *wink*

- Lucas pushes Max in the pool

- Max obvsly gets revenger by pushing Lucas in the pool, while he's in the middle of doing something else like conversing, idk

- El wants to get in on the pool-pushing action, so she tries to push mike in the pool, but he grabs hold of her and they both fall in

- Underwater kisses! (with all the ships)

- mad flirting and lots of staring, lol (also with all the ships)

- El and Max sunbathing next to Suzie but they are on towels on the grass instead of a chair bc how are they supposed to get all close to each other on a single chair ??

- sunbathing girls ogling the boys in the pool

- boys in the pool ogling the sunbathing girls

- squirt guns, water balloons, and fights with pool noodles

- Suzie likes to sunbathe and read fantasy novels (she's totally a girly-girl nerd) and Dustin likes to just stop and watch her sometimes bc she's beautiful and also cute and hot, and sometimes she'll catch him watching from the pool or across the yard and they'll smile at each other.

And then she'll say something super cheesy like "I miss you, Dusty-bun" cos technically they are apart from each other. And he starts to say that he misses her too, but then Max/Lucas are like "jesuschrist, you guys are LITERALLY 20 feet away from each other!" and Dustin is just like "hey, I put up with all of your cute couple-y shit!"

- El wants to know what Suzie is reading and Suzie starts telling her the story in great detail (cos she's totally read the book before, it's one of her favorites? WHAT BOOK DO YOU GUYS THINK IT IS, LET ME KNOW) and then she recommends more books for El

- El totally takes control of the big inflatable pool floatie shaped like a duck or a unicorn or idfk

- Mike and Will try to push the floatie over but she clings to it, screaming, and even tho they manage to overturn her she still comes out on top and splashes them to make them stop

- Max helping El defend against the boys by jumping on some backs lol (more like grabbing and hoisting bc it’s hard to jump when in water)

- Max then trying to join El by jumping on the floatie (from the side of the pool), but she just ends up sinking them both

- El also tries doing those mermaid hair flips and just generally her and max doing funny things with both their hair (El wants to be a mermaid)

- pool volleyball, anyone? Or maybe pool basketball??

- Joyce is there to bring them lemonade and the burgers that Jonathan makes and other summer foods bc she is mom of the goddamn century

- chicken fights (top/bottom) (lmk who you think would win, lol)

Max/Lucas vs El/Mike

Will/Mike vs El/Max

Lucas/Dustin vs Max/Mike

Taunts and "insults" are slung, but also cheers, lol

Everyone falls down more often from loss of balance than actual pushing

- "no running around the goddamn pool, or you little shits will face some serious consequences!" (lol sorry I had to put Steve in there, but he's really not threatening at all 😆)

- Marco Polo (and El is totally not allowed to cheat by using her powers) (but even without cheating she's still pretty good, lol)

- sneaking up behind and dunking

- El wearing goggles and just being able to actually look and SEE underwater and it's so cool and beautiful, "but it makes everything sound weird"

- splash fights, and usually more than half the party ends up turning on one or two specific people

- the boys try to do that thing where you dive through inflatable donuts and it basically becomes a contest

Will can successfully dive through one donut, it's mostly just luck tho

"okay, you can dive thru one donut, but can you dive thru two??" (Mike kind of succeeds but he somehow gets his foot stuck and kicks the donut off)

"okay, but can dive thru three???"

And Dustin is like "come on guys, this is getting insane" but he sees the donuts getting stacked and everyone lining up and he's just like *sigh* "goddamnit" cos he knows he has to do it now too, he's not backing down!

El doesn't dive but she successfully pencil jumps thru at least one donut

Max dives thru two-and-a-half donuts (don't even ask me how) and it's not all three, but it's more than any of the boys can do so she totally wins the contest

- when it starts getting late, before everyone goes inside, Joyce takes some photos of all of them while the sun is still out (until Will jokingly begs her to stop), some smiling ones, some silly face ones, and a couple candid ones (Jonathan takes most of the photos tho cos duh)

If you have any ideas or anything to add, please feel free to do so, either by reblogging or my askbox! 👍🏻

[plan3tlvrs]

Promise

erenxblackfem!reader

<3 erenxblackfem!reader (anyone is welcome to read)

<3 contains: slight mentions of racism, slight nsfw, major fluff, some angst?, mild language

<3 setting: 1950’s

<3 summary: you and eren’s relationship is forbidden due to the time period you live in. and it was easy to keep hidden until one quite night in your home.

___________

The school bell rang as you gathered your books holding them to your chest tightly. You placed the extra books that you didn’t need for homework tonight in your locker before meeting up with your friend Darcy. 

“Did you hear about that black boy that got murdered a few weeks ago?” Darcy said holding up a newspaper as you both walked down the hall. 

“Yeah my momma had the news on all night listening about what happened” You sighed as another young black male was tragically killed at the hands of a white man. 

This wasn’t anything new to you living in the south in the middle of the 50’s was one of the worst places you could live at as a colored girl or any color at that. As long as you weren't white nobody cared about your well-being nor your feelings or how you were treated. 

You grew up regularly being called slurs and many other derogatory names a woman of color could hear. 

“You got any plans?” Darcy said as you walked down the dirt road to your small homes. 

“I think Eren is coming by later to take me somewhere” You smiled at the thought of him.

Darcy laughed a little as you looked at her concerningly “By coming by later you mean sneaking you out of your bedroom window just to sit in his car” 

“Darcy stop you know we can’t do much” You rolled your eyes at her. 

It was true you and Eren couldn’t do much why? It was simply because you were black and he was white. Jim Crow laws prevented you from showing your relationship out to the public. This meant no drive in dates, dances at the teen club, or burgers and fries at the diner together. 

You didn’t mean to fall for someone the opposite skin color the way you met just happened out of no where really. You remember walking down the busy street to get milk for your mom as she was making cornbread with the rest of your dinner tonight. Walking down the street getting weird stares as if you were the outcast. 

You just walked with your head down and stared at the ground as your feet moved against the chalky pavement. Clutching your purse in hand you pulled open the door to the small market. Upon opening the door a body hit yours as fast as the wind did knocking you to the ground. 

Eyes widening you quickly tried to pick yourself up as a pale hand reached out in front of you. Taken back by the kind gesture you pulled your hand away from theirs quickly continuing to look down. 

“It’s alright I won’t hurt you I promise” The voice was soft and kind. 

Looking up your gaze met a boy with brown hair and forest green eyes. His hair was pulled back into a bun which was something that made him so interesting to you. The green haired boy extended his hand out, encouraging you to reach for it. Taking a leap of faith you put your hand in his immediately feeling the softness of yours and his. 

“Thank you so much kind sir I best be on my way now” You spoke, wiping off your knees and then your skirt. 

The boy didn’t say anything back, he just stared into your eyes as if they were the most beautiful things he had ever seen. 

“Wait let me help you with groceries, it's the least I can do” The boy shrugged his shoulder a bit. 

The rest was history after that, you learned the boy's name that same day he went by Eren and you simply adored him. At first you had to keep your friendship on the low for obvious reasons. You didn’t feel yourself start to have feelings for him until the day he mindlessly knocked on your door while your parents weren't home, thankfully you were an only child. 

Snapping yourself back into reality you realized you had made it to your house waving by Darcy you stepped in quietly. Your momma didn’t usually get home from work until the early mornings leaving a few minutes before you came home from school. And your dad was on his usual business trip he had said he went to New York in a letter he sent a few days ago. 

Night had hit unexpectedly as you were deep in your studies with books sprawled around you in your upstairs bedroom. Picking up your books and placing them on your desk so you could have them ready to pick up in the morning as you rushed out the door. You sat down on your bed with a sigh looking at the clock it was around eight thirty and you decided to get ready for bed until you heard a knock on your window.

Going to the balcony you opened the doors stepping out to be met with the silence of the night. Your breath hitching as you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. 

“Hi darling” The voice said softly in your ear. 

“Eren you can’t keep doing that” You relaxed your muscles placing your hands over Eren’s. 

Eren turned you around in a swift motion before placing his hands back on your hips. 

“I know I just like seeing you jump” Eren smiled a little. 

“You're an ass, you know that right?” 

“Just for you” He smirked, taking your hand and leading you back into your room. 

He sat on your bed pulling you next to him after you closed the balcony doors and the curtains so no one could see you with each other. Getting caught was your worst fear, of course things would be bad for the both of you but more so you getting caught was worse than Eren. You had only seen each other during the night as it was easier for him to sneak out and come over since your mom was at work and your dad across the country. 

“So I aced that math test you helped me study for” Eren said, turning to you and bringing out a paper with a huge A+ on the front. 

“I'm so proud of you baby you did so well” You cheered for him putting your hands on his cheeks. 

“R-really?” Eren said softly with red cheeks. 

Eren’s family didn’t give two shits about his school life; they just wanted to marry him off to another rich white woman and have kids with her just to keep the family business running. No matter how hard he tried to show his parents that he wanted to graduate high school and become an engineer they denied it. 

“Of course I am Ren” Smiling you caressed his cheeks pulling him in for a sweet kiss. 

Eren dropped the paper bringing his hands to your waist as your arms settled on his shoulders connecting at the nape of his neck. 

“You're so beautiful” Eren groaned, leaning down to attack your neck in kisses. 

“Eren” You whined as he continued to trail them down your neck. 

“Yeah baby” He continued to kiss your neck as one of his hands came up to squeeze the flesh of your chest. 

“I want you” You breathed out as he pulled back from the crook of your neck with wide eyes. 

“Are you sure?” 

You nodded your head and pulled him in for another kiss, this one rougher than the other. 

An hour later you were in your bed covered in a sheet of sweat and the covers of your bed as your chest rose and fell. Eren next to you in the same position as you snuggled into his side stroking his chest with the tips of your fingers. 

Never in a million  years would you imagine lying naked in a bed next to someone of the race that was supposed to hate you. You felt so lucky to have Eren at your side just hoping that one day you could reveal your relationship to the world without being in so much fear. 

Your eyes fell heavy as you felt Eren’s lips pressed to your forehead and felt sleep take you over.

“What in gods name is going on here!” 

Your body jolted up along with Erens as you held the covers to your chest only to be met with the eyes of your angry mother. 

“Mom I-” You tried to explain but she was already beginning to yell again. 

“What the hell is a white man doing in your bed matter a fact what the hell is he doing in my goddamn house?!” 

You looked to the side to see Eren with the same wide eyes as yours as he looked at your mother who had obviously gotten off work earlier than you expected. 

“Um I'm-” Eren forced himself to say he would be lying if he wasn’t scared out of his mind right now. 

“I don’t care who you are get the hell out before I call the police” Your mom tried to calm her nerves as she gritted her teeth. 

Eren hurriedly pulled on his clothes even putting on his socks backwards in the process. Even though he was scared shitless he still managed to give you a peck on the lips before going to your balcony and disappearing into the night. 

Moments after your mother didn't say anything to you she just shook her head and slammed your door shut after leaving. When she left you felt tears stream down your face like hot springs thinking this would be the last time you'd see Eren you sunk back into your bed. 

Your eyes almost closed until you heard your balcony window being opened again as Eren stepped through your eyes widened. Sitting up Eren looked around the room for your mother and seeing that she wasn’t there he came and sat on the edge of your bed. 

“I thought you left for good?” You smiled through tears caressing his cheek just like earlier. 

“I would never leave you darling” Eren kissed your lips but this time he kissed them with passion and with love like no one was watching. 

“You promise?” You spoke through tears. 

“I promise” 

[adhdeancas]

My work for @transnaturalweek day one: TFW!

TFW have a bad dysphoria day, and they do some self-care.

Sam throws down a paper bag in front of Dean. “What’s this?” 

Cas sniffs and looks at him. “It smells like hamburgers.”

Sam rolls her eyes and taps her nose. “Bingo.”

“I’m good.” Dean shifts his jaw around and pulls the blanket up higher over his chest. Sam sighs at him. 

“When was the last time you ate?” He looks at her bitchily. “No, don’t answer that. It was lunch yesterday, and it was a lunchable. Like you’re seven years old.”

“Fuck you, lunchables are good.”

“Lunchables are mediocre and disappointing.”

“Fuck you! Dessert pizza lunchables have never let me down!” Dean turns the volume up pointedly. Sam stays standing for another long moment. All of them are silent, Dean still trying to watch the TV but only out of spite and Cas paying closer attention to the sibling drama.

“Look, I get it. We all feel like shit, alright? But laying here feeling like shit isn’t gonna make us feel better, so we can eat bad food and paint our nails and feel like shit.”

“Can we get drunk?” 

Cas furrows his brows. “Drinking is not a productive way to deal with emotional pain.” 

“Disagree.” Dean sits up and reaches for the burgers, and Sam figures that’s a good sign. She goes for the Walmart bag next and pulls out the fancy little self-manicure kits she got them. She would’ve gone for the frilly little robes too, because she knows they all love them, but on a bad dysphoria day, Dean won’t even look at the color pink, let alone wear a robe. “If you can’t think about your body long enough to feel bad about it, you don’t feel so bad.”

Cas unwraps his own burger and takes off the top bun, still perched on the edge of the couch cushion. He peels the pickles off and hands them to Dean, who piles them on his own burger without even asking. They’re a well oiled machine at this point. “Touché.”

Sam sighs. Now things are going back downhill. She kicks at Dean until he makes room for her on the couch and plops down. “Not you too, Cas. I thought we were on the same side here?”

Cas shrugs and pulls off his shirt before he keeps eating his food. That’s one of the differences between Cas and Sam and Dean; when Cas is dysphoric, he takes clothes off, versus the oversized three layers of clothing and blankets Dean and Sam have covered themselves in. “I like margaritas.”

Sam rolls their eyes. “How about milkshakes and Queer Eye?”

Cas snatches a milkshake from Sam, eying the color before looking back at them. “Strawberry? I like strawberry.”

“I know you do.”

Dean looks between them grumpily. “Do I get one too?”

Sam lets a small smile cross their face. “Chocolate for you. Butterscotch for me.” She sips hers smugly. 

“Can we watch something other than Queer Eye?” Dean asks, dipping a fry into his. 

“Are you sure? There’s that one with a trans guy, we could-”

“Sam.” Dean balls in on himself and sniffs. “I don’t wanna think about how we’re different right now okay? Even if it’s about how our differences are kumbaya or some shit, I just don’t wanna-”

“Ok, yeah, I get it.” She leans against her brother. “That’s not how kumbaya works though-”

“Shut up, bitch,”

“Jerk,”

“Cas, what do you wanna watch?”

Cas shrugs. “Madagascar.”

“Madagascar? Like, the animated movie about zoo animals?” Cas nods. Dean looks at Sam. They shrug back. “Okay, let’s move it movie it,” he laughs at the others’ groans and steals the remote from Sam so he can pull up Netflix.

Sam passes out the nail polish while they start the movie. Cas gets a dark blue and pink (He likes to alternate colors on every finger), Dean gets a classic black, and Sam goes with purple. Yes, they’re classic colors for each of them. And sometimes you need the classic comforts. 

“Cas, baby, isn’t that really fucking uncomfortable sitting like that?” Dean asks, his worry sneaking towards grumpiness. Cas looks back from his perch unhappily. He shrugs rather than answers, and Dean sighs. Cas doesn’t just get human dysphoria from him being trans or Jimmy being trans. He also gets Angel-brand dysphoria; he hates sitting against a couch because it reminds him of the state of his wings. “C’mere.”

Cas only hesitates for a moment before he climbs on Dean’s lap. It’s something they do sometimes, being up on Dean gives Cas beside and below him, like a buffer so he can think about it less. Dean hugs him from behind and puts his head on his shoulder so he can still watch the movie, and Cas holds his milkshake so he can still drink it. Sam scoffs at them. “You guys are ridiculous.”

“Sh, don’t get bitter just because your girlfriend is off being a big badass during pride.” Dean grabs Sam’s hand and her nail polish and starts in on it. He is the best nail polisher of them, considering he’s had the most practice. That, and the fact that he’s obsessively neat and has surprisingly steady hands. 

Sam glares but lets him do it. “Yeah, well, I still think it’s pretty homophobic of her. Transphobic, too, if you think about it.”

“And your other girlfriend?”

She rolls her eyes. “She’s a busy fucking woman, thank you very much.”

“Right, right, dating a girl boss.”

“Technically, a queen.” Cas corrects. 

“Mhm,” Sam allows herself to get a little smug.

“Look at us, just a bunch of queens watching an animated zoo movie and not getting drunk in our rapidly approaching middle age.”

“Hear hear!” Sam bumps the styrofoam of her cup against the two cups Cas is holding. And they watch their movie. “Happy pride, assholes,”

[ayellowcurtain]

Can you write a fic about Sander and Robbe having a conversation about having unprotected sex? They both know that they are clean and Sander wants to try it but he doesn’t want Robbe to feel pressured to say yes.

Was wondering if you'll write a Robbe/Sander taking about what he wants to study and where Robbe wants to go for college?

It’s starting to get colder with each passing day. Robbe pulls his brown jacket tighter around his torso, holding the bar handle with just one hand to avoid freezing both of them against the metal.

Robbe smiles, lifting his shoulders to protect his neck and ears from Sander’s kiss attacks.

Sander puts his chin on the top of Robbe’s head, looking straight, waiting for the traffic light to turn green for them, humming to Under Pressure quietly. His brain is an endless source of music.

Robbe usually likes winters, but this one feels a little heavy. It’s the last one before college. He finally knows what he’s doing with his life, and it’s starting soon, it came faster than he thought it would. He’s more than excited to start this new chapter, but Robbe is also not the best at leaving his comfort zone now that his comfort zone looks a lot having a perfect relationship, his mom taking very good care of herself and Robbe being okay with all his friends.

They turn right and get in line on a drive-thru with Sander’s bike. Robbe can’t believe him, a little embarrassed to be waiting in between cars, so out in the open for everyone to see him there but still mesmerized by his boyfriend for being that brave, never thinking any situation is a little weird, that confident about not caring about what others think.

“What do you want?” Sander asks seriously, narrowing his gaze to read the menu on the big panel next to them. Robbe hums, noticing how starving he is now that he’s so close, able to smell the dirty, old oil to make the fries.

“Two cheeseburgers, large fries, and an iced Coke.”

Sander snorts, clearly making fun of his big order, but he doesn’t say a word, pushing the bike with his tiptoes to the window where they’ll place their order. The young girl sitting inside looks at them so unimpressed, typing something on her computer.

“Hi. What’s the order?” She doesn’t even look at him, keeping her bored eyes on Sander.

“Five cheeseburgers, two large fries, the biggest Coke you have.”

Now that Sander said it, Robbe thinks about the struggle that’s going to be to take all of that on his bike, but he doesn’t argue, looking at the girl, typing everything so quickly, their order already showing on the screen.

She gesticulates with her hand for them to move on the next window and Sander pushes the bike forward again.

“She’s having a good day.” He whispers, resting his chin against Robbe’s head again while they wait, watching the people inside run around making burgers.

“I can’t believe we are going to study at the same college.” He says, and Robbe’s heart starts beating faster thinking about it, “Are you excited?”

“Yes...I just hope I don’t regret the course I chose to do.” Robbe confesses, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip, grabbing the extra-large iced Coke Sander is handing to him, holding the bag with the burgers too just until Sander can get them back on the street again.

Robbe takes a sip of their Coke, always looking both ways like he’s the one leading them back to Sander’s place.

“You’re a natural, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Robbe sighs, leaning back as much as he can, feeling Sander’s legs move as he pedals, probably making it harder for him, but Sander doesn’t complain. He can’t give himself the privilege of looking up now, carrying the Coke, and holding on to the bike, but he can tell Sander is thinking.

“I saw a place closer to college…”

Robbe frowns, really trying to look up, but that makes Sander lose a little bit of his balance, so Robbe keeps looking forward, anxiety filling his every thought even though Sander could be just dropping a harmless comment to keep the conversation going.

He doesn’t say anything else, they cross the street lanes and Sander stops right in front of his house, and Robbe slips back to the sidewalk, standing next to his boyfriend while he puts his bike in place and locks it, walking inside, keeping the door open for Robbe.

His parents are still working, so Sander goes upstairs, always jumping the step in between, getting to the second floor so much faster, waiting for Robbe, kissing him when Robbe walks past him to go to his bedroom to put their dinner down on the nightstand.

“I was thinking about us, living together there.” He finally explains all of a sudden, and even though Robbe was thinking about it since Sander started this topic of conversation five minutes ago, it still makes his heart start beating fast again, looking at Sander quietly staring back at him, sitting on his bed.

“Just us?”

Sander nods his head, “Yes, just us.”

Robbe sits on the bed too, both of them kicking their shoes off of their feet, sitting in the middle of the bed, opening their packages, getting one burger each, sharing the first box of fries.

“We’re grown-ups now, and I really want to have our own space...our own routine...all the alone time in the world…” Sander nuzzles into his neck before he starts eating, leaving wet kisses in between saying all the pros of his idea.

Robbe sighs, closing his eyes, letting himself enjoy his boyfriend’s kisses, feeling the goosebump every kiss leaves behind.

“It does sound like the best thing ever.”

Sander kisses his jaw and sits back up, finally eating a fry.

“We should check it out, at least.”

They settled for that, too hungry to think about the details and the real grown-up things they’ll have to think about if they decide to move in together. Sander opens Robbe’s second cheeseburger and carefully forms a line of fries in between the cheese and the bun, saying Robbe has to try it.

He’s not wrong, it is mindblowing, and Robbe notices himself staring at how excited Sander can get about food, smiling while opening his mouth wide to fit the whole bite in his mouth, cleaning the corners of his lips with the back of his hand, nodding his head.

“Good?”

“Yes, so good.” He talks with his mouth still full, smiling. Robbe takes another bite of his burger, drinking the Coke afterward, wishing they had hands to carry a milkshake too.

“I need to buy some stuff this weekend.”

Sander nods his head, eating some fries, “I can help you if you want, I know some amazing stores…”

“I know you do.” Robbe puts his burger on top of the bag they’re using as a tray, carefully moving on to sit next to Sander, turning his face after Sander kisses his cheek, tilting his head a little so they can kiss, just a gentle touch of their lips over and over again. He opens his eyes back up and Sander is looking at him with so much care and love that it’s hard for Robbe to understand how can someone love him as much as Sander does.

“We’ll buy anything you need.” Robbe kisses him again, brushing his nose against his cheek before going back to reality, eating the food they ordered before it gets cold.

They eat everything slowly, pausing a few times when Sander gets carried away telling Robbe about the things he’ll probably need for his classes, how they’ll have more time together now that they’ll study at the same college.

And Robbe listens to everything carefully, making sure to save how excited Sander is in his memories. For so long had no idea where his life would take him, with his parents, with school and his future, with his messy love life, and now everything is so right, and in the most perfect place. Robbe talks a lot about living minute by minute with Sander, but he can’t help but hope they never run out of minutes to spend together.

After so much iced Coke and so much food, Robbe feels like he might explode at any second so he grabs and sorts the dirty packages from the clean ones, jumping off the bed to put everything away inside the big trash can in the kitchen, washing his greasy hands before making a stop in the bathroom to pee.

He washes his hands and face afterward, and he meets Sander in the hall, coming back from the laundry room, shirtless and with clean cotton shorts, smiling and pulling Robbe closer, hugging him from behind while they walk together back to the bedroom.

“Hm...I was thinking about something these days…”

“Yeah...?”

Sander nods his head against Robbe’s neck, kissing it softly before letting him go so they can lie down on their sides of the bed.

“We’ve been together for some time now. A long time…” Sander is already sitting on his side of the bed, adjusting the comforter around his waist to have something to do with his hands, clearly not knowing how to go about whatever he needs to say. Robbe keeps his eyes on his while taking his pants off, grabbing one of Sander’s hoodie that he had forgotten on his chair and putting it on.

“I’ve been thinking about how we don’t really need condoms…” He lifts his brows, testing the water like even Robbe’s first reaction to his words might make him drop the subject.

“Yeah...?” Robbe whispers, a little anxious about talking about this even though he doesn’t see any problem. It’s just his insecurity in the back of his mind, thinking about how Sander is a lot more experienced when it comes to sex. He finally sits on the bed, pushing himself back against the headboard, sitting closer to Sander, pulling the comforter up too, messing up his hair a little bit.

“Robbe, it’s okay if you don’t want to. I was just thinking we should talk about it, see what we think.”

Sander puts his arm around Robbe’s neck like he would any other night and Robbe snuggles closer, looking at him.

“No. I-I want to. I don’t see the problem. I mean...as far as I know, we only had sex with each other, right?”

Sander snorts, but nod his head, “Yes. As far as I know, we only had sex with each other. And we’ve been good with everything else.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“And I never...had sex without a condom, don’t know how it feels like.” Robbe looks at his boyfriend again, nodding his head quietly and Robbe tries to laugh it out, gently pushing him away, making Sander laugh too.

“You can say you had sex without condoms before me. I guess it’s obvious.”

“I had sex without condoms before. Not as much as you think I did though.”

“No?” Robbe looks down so Sander doesn’t see how embarrassed he is for even suggesting that, pulling the hood to his head, “You and Britt…”

“Had sex without condoms, yes, but not too many times. I guess it was mainly in the middle of our relationship when we were doing good.”

Robbe nods his head, accidentally slipping back into thinking Sander is the only person he ever had sex with and he’s not Sander’s only person. He wonders if he’s good at it like Sander says he is or if Sander just says that because he loves Robbe.

“Since we’re talking about this...I always wanted to ask…” Robbe looks up, moving himself a little bit again so he can properly look at Sander, his eyebrows already going up a little with the anticipation.

“What, Robbe?

“How many people have you...had sex with?”

Sander sighs, blinking slowly, sitting up too, but still resting his back against the headboard, “It depends on what you understand as sex…”

“Sex sex.”

“Just you and Britt.”

“Really?” Robbe is a little surprised, his brain wandering back to their first time, how it must have felt for Sander too. He had sex before, but never with a guy.

“Yeah…” Sander smiles, pulling him closer again, “Is that so surprising to you?”

“I don’t know...the way you answered...I don’t know.” Robbe shakes his head, regretting saying that. It’s just that Sander is everything and Robbe can’t believe nobody else saw it before he did and thought they should keep him around.

“Before Britt I was going out a lot, making out with some people inside bathrooms…”

“Oh...ok.”

“But sex sex it’s just you and her.” Robbe nods his head, still being selfish, thinking it would be even better if it was just him.

The mattress moves under him and he notices Sander moving, sitting facing him now, his hand resting on Robbe’s thigh under the covers.

“We don’t have to do it. It’s more than okay.”

Robbe sits up straight, putting his hand on top of Sander’s, “No. No. I want to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course. I mean, it’s just you and me, right?” Sander smiles softly, brushing his nose against Robbe’s when he nods his head.

“Forever. In every universe.”

“And we should get tested.” Sander nods his head again, smiling.

“Of course. We can go together.”

“Yes. Please.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Robbe puls Sander closer by his neck, kissing him slowly, the expectation already building inside of him, wanting to do it now.

“I can’t wait.” He whispers in between the kiss, with his eyes closed, and he smiles when he feels Sander smiling against his lips.

“Me neither. We’ll go in your terms, your time, okay?”

Robbe laughs, opening his eyes “It’s not like I’m suddenly virgin again!”

“I know. I know! It’s just that you’ve never done it before. So I guess it’ll be a little bit different.”

“Yes. That’s why I can’t wait.”

Sander pushes himself against Robbe, making him lie down so Sander can do the same on top of him.

“We’ll get tested tomorrow.”