#so you can get your chicken nuggets from McDonalds

[probablygayattorneys]

Damn it, someone didn’t properly tag their spoilers again and a huge part of Azran Legacy was just spoiled for me. Yeah, I learned Emmy was actually Theodore Roosevelt the entire time. :/

[sturniluvr]

All of me, loves all of you

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: possible spelling mistakes, some language, hate comments, nothing else lmk if I missed anything

summary: you’ve always been told in your life by multiple people that you’re always either too loud or too quiet and it’s one of your biggest insecurities but happens to be your boyfriend’s favourite thing about you.

A/N: sorta inspired by @obsidianbaby fic with a little twist and hers is a Chris version. Here it is if you want to check it out. Listen to John Legend ‘all of me’ while reading if you want <3

❗️semi proof read❗️

You were on sat on the couch as the triplets rushed around the house getting the equipment they needed to film the car video, all they had left to find was a battery because Nick once again forgot to charge the battery so they had to find a charged one to replace the dead battery before filming whilst also waiting for their food to arrive.  

“Y/N are you joining us for the video? Or can I be Matt’s passenger princess?” Chris joked as he made his way past her towards the kitchen to check their junk drawer for the spare battery.  

“Fuck where is it?” He muttered to himself as he rummaged through the drawer, unsuccessful in finding what he was looking for. The younger woman didn’t acknowledge her best friend at first, her head being buried in her phone, more specifically, looking at the comments on last Friday’s car video where she was having one of her more quiet days and the comments surely picked up on the sudden mood change compared to her yapping in the Wednesday video prior to the Friday car video. 

‘She needs to make up her mind, either be loud or be quiet Jesus Christ’ 

‘How do they put up with her? She’s so annoying’ 

‘Y/N needs to be more entertaining omg😭’ 

‘One day she’s quiet the next she won’t stfu, must be so annoying to the triplets, how do they like her??? Especially Matt??? Poor guy’ 

‘She’s such a weirdo, either being way too loud or way too quiet💀’ 

‘Y/N?? You with me kid?” Chris waved his hand in front of her face to grab her attention. 

“Hmm? Sorry Chris what did you say?” She replied to the older boy. As he was about to reply, the doorbell rang signaling the food had arrived, Matt came from his bedroom and made his way down the stairs to open the door and get the food, thanking the delivery driver as he closed the door. He came back up the stairs and placed the bag of McDonald’s on the kitchen table, sorting out who’s is who’s. 

“I was asking if you were coming to film with us?” she shook her head in response. 

“No, I’ll sit this one out, I think. Maybe just watch a film or have a shower and an early night.” 

Matt’s head turned in the direction of his girlfriend and brother as soon as he heard the words leave Y/N’s mouth, immediately sensing something was wrong. 

“You okay baby? You feeling good?” He asked, concern written all over his features, Matt made his way over to the Y/H/C girl with her usual McDonalds order of 9 chicken nuggets, medium fries and a peach iced tea. He placed her food on the table in front of her and quickly raised the back of his hand to her forehead, her temperature seemed fine to him. 

“Yeah, I’m okay Matt, I promise, I’m just tired you know I’ve had a busy day.” She explained, looking up at her boyfriend with a not very convincing smile on her face, not convincing to Matt anyway, he could read her like a book. 

Nick had found the battery, and the camera was now ready to set up in the car. 

“You coming you two?” He calls out to the couple while grabbing his food off the kitchen table. Chris doing the same and stood with the oldest triplet waiting for an answer. 

“Give us a minute Nick, you and Chris head to the car.” Matt replied, throwing his car keys in the direction of Chris which he smoothly caught. The brothers made their way downstairs to the garage to unlock the car. In the living room, Matt was now sat next to Y/N on the couch. He noticed a stray tear make it’s way down her cheek.

“Baby please just tell me what’s bothering you. It can’t be silly if it’s making you cry.” he stated as he wiped the stray tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. He looked over to her unlocked phone that had since been discarded on the table, he removed his hands from her face and picked her phone up, raising his eyebrows as if asking permission to look through the phone. She nodded in silent understanding. He looked at the illuminated screen and a frown immediately made its way onto his face, followed by a glare at some of the comments that his so called fans had left about the love of his life. 

“They hate me.” Y/N said dejectedly, biting her nails anxiously as Matt continued to read the comments. Matt sighed before he replied. 

“Oh baby. A few comments mean nothing okay my love, what matters is what you think and what I think, and I think you’re amazing just the way you are.” 

“But Matt it’s not just a few comments! It’s every other comment, either saying you must be annoyed by me, or I don’t deserve you or that I’m a weirdo all because I’m always either too loud or too quiet! I’ve always been made fun of because of it!” She replied frustrated, tears beginning to well up in her eyes yet again.  

Suddenly Matt placed her phone face down on the couch and grabbed her hand before leading her to his bathroom. He switched the light on and placed her in front of the mirror and rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. 

“See this woman in the mirror? She is the most perfect woman I have ever met, every little detail of her, from her freckles to her personality makes her even more perfect to me and I fall more in love with her every day.” He placed a trail of kisses leading from her shoulder up to her cheek before he loosened his hold on her waist to turn her so she was facing him before continuing.  

“Darling, you can’t let the things people who hide behind their screens tell you define you okay? It would break my heart to see their nasty words dim my princess’ light, okay? You are perfect to me, and that’s all that matters, okay? Not some bullshit random people on the internet say, they’re just jealous 12 year olds.” He joked, lightening the mood, causing a small smile to creep up on her face, he smiled at the sight.  

“There’s my favorite smile!” He exclaimed.  

He cupped her cheeks before speaking again.  

“Love, you have to remember if you ever feel like this again, is all of me loves all of you, okay? Always has and always will, you’re my favorite person and you being both loud and quiet balances me out perfectly, if I need a quiet and safe place you give that to me, or if I need to let off energy and be crazy, you go on all kinds of crazy adventures with me. I couldn’t be more thankful for you. I love you so much my angel.” 

“I love you too my love” she replied, happy tears now in her eyes as opposed to the sad and frustrated tears in her eyes not even 20 minutes ago. 

“What do you say, we go film the video with Nick and Chris, I want the better passenger princess next to me and not the one who burps 24/7 and looks like me” he joked, she let out a laugh at her boyfriend. 

“Sure, let’s go film. I wanna grab my food first though.” He nodded and the couple made their way into the living room to grab Y/N’s food before making their way down to the garage where they heard Nick and Chris arguing over something ridiculous, they both laughed at the pair. The two in the car noticed the couple stood in the doorway making their way to the car. Y/N got in the car while Matt remained outside, focusing the camera. Y/N threw a thumbs up to Matt as the camera was set up right. Chris gave Y/N a quick hug from the back seat before he spoke. 

“You good now kid?” He asked, she nodded and smiled back at him as Matt got in the car and pressed record. The four filming the video full of laughs and debates. Matt added in a little rant to the viewers on being nicer to Y/N and from that point forward, the hate comments had died down to the odd few from jealous fan girls. 

[danadaria]

Steddie Olympic AU where Eddie gets on his first Olympics for BMX freestyle, and it's so weird because he has been in competitions for many years but nothing like this, something so big and with so many rules.

His background was being a hyperkinetic kid who didn't really care about his life, and somehow being fearless and doing acrobatics became his career. Still, even then it wasn't so serious.

His thing were the X-games and open exhibitions, with fire, hard rock & metal, tattoos, and having RedBull as a sponsor.

Behind the adrenaline he and his friends are a bunch of clowns who just wanted to fly and have the bones of a child forever.

But now he's here: in the middle of a giant line in an ocean of other athletes, wearing a fucking blazer from Ralph Lauren and with the lamest jeans he had to wear in his entire life.

And everything is kinda awful, because he lost sight of friends (Gareth and Max, both skaters, but they train in the same place), and he just heard there's no McDonald's at the Olympics this year.

He doesn't even like McDonald's so much, but god, he grow up hearing about athletes eating hundreds of burgers and mcnuggets for free, and sue him, but his inner child was super excited about it.

"Are you ok, man?"

Eddie opens his mouth to give a snarky remark when he sees the most beautiful man in existence – GORGEOUS v-shape, honey eyes, pink pouty lips, and kissable moles– looking at him with concern.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything is okey-dokey" He says lamely.

The most beautiful man in existence snorts at him.

"Okey-dokey? What are you? Five?"

"Probably. I was sad because I found out today there's no free McDonald's this year. Now that I know I'm not sure if it is worth being here"

Eddie's future husband looks surprised for a second and laughs at him.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course. I read some people ate so many nuggets they left the Olympics cackling like a chicken: I wanted to be one of them!"

"Oh, yeah. I ate lots of them post-competition"

"See?!"

"Ok, I give you that. But this year there's going to be international cuisine and all that jazz"

"Knowing me, I'm going to get too overwhelmed with the options and I'll end with the saddest oatmeal every day."

"You have lots of food opinions for someone that's on a sports event"

"Well, is either that or thinking that my biggest rivals are a bunch of 15-year-olds from Brazil and Japan."

"Oh? What's your sport?"

"BMX freestyle"

"That's the race in the mountains?"

"That's literally BMX racing."

"Right." He looked ashamed.

Eddie needed to fix that look, now.

"And you? What's your poison?"

"Poison? You mean my sport?" Eddie nods at him encouragingly. "Gymnastics."

"I can see it." Eddie looks at him approvingly, "You have the arms of a gymnast, big boy."

The face of Eddie's future husband turns a beautiful shade of red. And Eddie is just a second away to ask for his name, and his number to change the course of his life, when he feels a hand on the jacket's collar.

"Here you are, loser. We need to go this way!"

And before Eddie can say anything, Max Mayfield (his new arch-nemesis) takes him away from the love of his life.

He says bye with a hand before being cruelly separated, disappearing into a sea of people.

"Do you want to be murdered before or after the opening ceremony, Red?"

"Oh, shut up loser."

____________________________________________________________

Steve is going back with his best friend to their apartment, feeling super frustrated. Somehow, 24 hours ago, he thought it would be a good idea to give his phone to his best friend for the inauguration night to avoid getting too excited and watching videos of the event until 4 am.

And now he was regretting ALL his life choices.

"You don't understand Robin, I met a super cute guy, but I couldn't get his name! I'm only going to search that and nothing else"

"Steve, you made me swear I wouldn't pass your phone on inauguration day, no matter the reason. You need to sleep"

"Easy for you to say. You didn't meet someone when you didn't have your phone!"

"I would understand better than anyone! I met the cutest girl competing at air riffle, aaaand I didn't have my phone either!"

"You gave her your presentation card, didn't you"

"Yes, sorry."

"See? Why didn't you make me buy some for me, too?"

They arrive at their floor. Steve knows they're a little obnoxious, but it was the first night and it's still early.

"Good night, neighbors! Isn't it too early in the event to be fighting?"

Steve looks up so fast, he probably hurt his neck a little bit. At the end of the hallway, sitting on the floor next to a very closed door, was Steve's meet-cute: All smiley, charming, and inviting.

"It's you!"

"Oh! Hi Mr. Gymnastics, and hi unknown lady."

"It's Robin Buckley," She says and goes straight to her apartment, "we probably going to see each other again, so good night".

And she closes the door firmly behind her.

"I didn't have. I mean. I don't have my phone to search for you."

The other boy looks at him, almost evaluating him, before giving Steve a big smile and offering his hand to stretch.

"Eddie Munson."

"Steve Harrington."

"So, would you-"

"There's a McDonald's near where I compete tomorrow. Would you like to go with me?"

Eddie stands up and walks until he's in front of Steve. He smiles.

"Would love it. After all, it was my childhood dream."

Steve smiles too.

[coco-loco-nut]

Mama

pairing: Pierre x reader

summary: Pierre and his annoyed, heavily pregnant, wife

TW: references to spicy activities, pregnancy, cussing, use of French learned via Duolingo and high-school French class from like 4 years ago

————————

“I regret ever letting your French ass charm me,” you scowl at your husband who picked you up at the train station in London. He had been away for a week, and initially you did miss your husband, but the pregnancy began to really wear on you this week.

“I missed your too, mamour,” Pierre kisses you, taking your bags and placing them in his rental car.

“I should’ve stayed home,” you grumble as he helps you into the car. You missed your French home, the villa was sunny and it wasn’t England, but you promised your sweet husband you would come to Silverstone. He came straight from

Pierre knows you are hurting, the third trimester taking a toll on you, so he doesn’t take any of your words to heart, instead he intends on showing you how much he loves you.

“I wish I were home too,” Pierre squeezes your hand gently once he is in the car. He has been hoping and praying that the baby comes during the summer break, just so he can spend time with you. You hadn’t been to a race since Imola and Monaco and you were able to hide the pregnancy pretty easily with flowy dresses. Despite being pregnant with twins, you didn’t balloon up until right after.

“What would Mrs. Glasly and the Baby Gasly’s like to do first, get to the hotel or get some food?” Pierre asks and you think about it for a second.

“Mmm food. Chicken nuggets and fries, preferably,” you give Pierre puppy dog eyes despite telling him you hated him moments ago.

“There is a McDonald’s in the next town over from Silverstone. I won’t tell if you don’t,” Pierre says, you swear in that moment that you fall in love with him all over again.

“I would never,” you gasp before yawning a little. At this point, you could take a nap anywhere, despite being extremely uncomfortable with the babies dropping. Some luck happened and your thirty-sixth week of pregnancy falls at the very start of summer break.

“Take a nap, chérie, we have about an hour and a half,” Pierre tells you as he pulls out of the parking lot, turning the music on softly. You don’t need to be told twice as you doze off. You don’t even wake up to Pierre ordering a ridiculous amount of food at McDonald’s, you only wake up when he gently shakes your shoulder.

“Mon ange, tu dois te lève,” Pierre says gently, coaxing you awake.

“Mm, mon bonhuer, feed me and take me to bed,” you say sleepily, a sly smile on your face.

“The things you do to me,” Pierre groans, getting out of the car. You carry the food into the hotel from the garage so his trainer can’t yell at him.

“Y/n! How are you doing?” Charles comes up beside you. He knew about the pregnancy, despite Pierre and you keeping it under wraps, only because the both of you attended dinner at the Leclerc’s house during the Monaco GP. It's only natural, you were Pierre's childhood best friend. Charles was Pierre's childhood best friend, you tolerated the both of them.

“How do you think,” you glare at the Monégasque.

“Maman asked me to give you this, and I added a little something too,” Charles says, handing Pierre a bag and kissing your cheek.

“Thank you, Charlot,” Pierre waves to his friend, guiding you to the hotel room.

“Pierre, this is so good,” you practically moan as you eat the nuggets.

“You gotta stop talking like that, you’re driving me nuts,” he groans. You grin, biting into a fry.

“Or what?” your tease, his eyes darken. As soon as you both finish your dinner, he is kissing you.

“Pierre!” you groan, he helps you stand up, moving towards the bed.

"Do you want to do this?" Pierre looks at you with concern.

"Pierre, I am not a glass doll, I am pregnant and horny and I miss your cuddles, and I haven't seen you in weeks. I think you know what I want," you look Pierre in the eyes who is quick to help you into a safe, yet comfortable position. It is safe to say that the two of you missed each other very, very much.

You woke up in the morning, a rare occurrence of sleeping through the night, to your husband's arm wrapped around you, holding you close to him.

"Pierre," you nudge him. He hums, only half awake. "If you don't let me go, I may puke on this bed," you whisper to him. Pierre quickly wakes up and helps you to the bathroom. He had to get up soon anyway for the race.

"You ok?" Pierre continues rubbing your back after you've puked.

"I look like shit, feel like shit, and you watched me puke, I think the answer is no," you groan, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Why don't we shower, then I'll order some breakfast while I get ready?" Pierre offers, helping you undress and get into the shower. Like the gentleman he is, he helps you clean where you can't reach anymore, and in return, you scrub the shampoo into his hair.

The two of you eat quickly and get ready for the day. You both get in a chauffeured car and head to the circuit, you left a little later than usual due to eating breakfast in the hotel instead of in the paddock. Cameras capture the two of you walking in, more like you waddling as Pierre walks with an arm around you. He heads into a strategy meeting while you rest on the couch in his room.

"Apparently social media is blowing up over pictures of us walking in. They may love pregnant you more than I do, and that is nearly impossible," Pierre tells you when he gets back, the F2 race playing quietly in the background.

"I'm glad someone is enjoying it, because I want them out," you groan as they kick you simultaneously. Pierre helps you stand up and wraps his arms around you, hands under your bump. You relax into his chest, letting him take some of the pressure off of your body for a little bit. His touch always seems to calm the babies down.

"I know, just another month, then we will have our precious babies. You are doing incredibly, you will be the best mom," he praises you causing you to blush.

"They will have the coolest daddy," you hum, enjoying the temporary relief.

"Pierre, you gotta do your warm-ups," his trainer knocks on the doorframe. "Y/n, I can help you with some stretches that may provide some relief and better mobility," the trainer offers as Pierre slowly lowers your stomach, trying to ease the weight back. You follow Pierre and his trainer to the weight room. The trainer mainly focuses on helping you, claiming Pierre knew what he was doing, only stepping away when a spotter was required. Apparently, his wife was recently pregnant so he did a lot of research to help her.

"Congratulations, Y/n, you and Pierre will make great parents," despite neither of you particularly caring for Esteban, you thanked him anyway and wished him a good race. Pierre took you on some light strolls across the paddock, frequently being stopped by drivers, before the race where you sat in the garage and watched with his team. Pierre got in the points and you both celebrated by going home to France and sleeping.

By the time summer break rolled around, the nursery was filled with gifts from drivers and teams. Charles was begging the both of you to either name one of your babies after him or name him godfather. He was pleased to learn he was going to be named godfather regardless. A few days into break, your babies decided it was time to meet the world.

"Pierre, car, now," you look at your husband from the passenger seat.

"Charles! I am panicking! Yes, I am getting in the car. Fine you, can talk to y/n while I drive," Pierre says, frazzled, as he drives away from your home, the back seat filled with what you might need, two car seats already installed.

"Hello Charles," you say into the phone, quite amused despite the contractions becoming more frequent.

"Hi y/n, are you ready to meet the two rascals who have been torturing you for months? You will get to be a mom to three babies, god knows Pierre needs his mom right now," Charles laughs, helping to distract you as Pierre flies down roads.

"Mhmm, I'm excited to know the genders if anything. Are you still coming out later this week?" You ask him, the conversation oddly calm.

"I'm getting my plane ready now, I have to be there to meet my godchildren," Charles informs you and you feel another contraction coming on.

"Great, I'll be sure to hold them in for you. I gotta go, see you soon," you laugh through the pain, quickly hanging up. Pierre cut off an impossible amount of time, granted you didn't live too far from the hospital. Pierre is more stressed than you are, it's cute.

After 6 hours of labor, you and Pierre have greeted the most beautiful babies, at least in your eyes. The love of your life has now expanded to include the little bundles.

"Congratulations," Charles says, the first to arrive since you and Pierre didn't live too close to your families.

"Meet your godchildren, Anthoine Romeo and Genevieve Charlie," you smile tiredly at Pierre, who helped you through your labor, even as you screamed some very nasty things at him.

"They are perfect," Charles looks at you, a little teary as he holds Genevieve, "thank you," he says softly.

"We named them after the two people who have always stood beside us," you say, Pierre fascinated by his son. You really were the luckiest woman alive.

[steddielations]

Wayne pov, implied neglect, abandonment

Wayne gets a call from Hawkins Elementary that Eddie hasn’t been to school in two days.

They couldn’t get ahold of Al on the phone, as usual. Wayne hopes his suspicions are wrong, but he already knows what he’s going to find when he shows up to the shabby old house on Philadelphia street with a McDonald’s bag in hand.

His knock on the door goes unanswered, but he sees small fingers and big round eyes peeking through the side window blinds. 

“Hey, Eddie, it’s your Uncle Wayne. Open the door, it’s alright.”

Eddie shuffles away from the window, but there’s still no answer.

“You hungry? I brought those nugget things you like, that’s all. Some kinda toy in here too.”

After a moment, the door slowly opens a sliver. One big button eye peeks through the crack and a pale skinny arm reaches out.

Wayne hands over the food. “Gonna let me come inside?” 

Eddie’s arm snakes back in with the bag like a claw machine. But after another moment, the door swings open fully, revealing Eddie in rumpled clothes at least a couple days worn. The shadows under his eyes tell Wayne all he needs to know.

“Dad’s gone to the store,” Eddie smiles nervously, he didn’t inherit Al’s ability to lie behind it. “He said he’ll be right back.”

Wayne just nods as he comes inside. One look around confirms what he already knew. By the window, there’s a blanket and a scatter of candy wrappers and empty soda cans where Eddie’s been sleeping. Waiting and watching the driveway for Al.

This wouldn’t be the first time Al’s gone off and left Eddie to fend for himself. Wayne’s been helping out as much as he can since Eddie’s poor mama passed. He doesn’t know much about raising kids but he knows Al’s one dumb selfish bastard to be leaving Eddie alone for days since the ripe age of 8.

Wayne ignores the twist in his chest and the stab of anger he feels and doesn’t mention it. He follows Eddie to the coffee table in front of the couch where Eddie digs into the McDonald’s sack.

“School called and said you weren’t there. You feelin’ bad?” He reaches out, gently pushing back Eddie’s wild curls to feel his forehead. He’s surprised Eddie lets him, too busy scarfing down chicken nuggets. “No fever.” Wayne notes, but Eddie’s hair needs a good wash.

Eddie’s narrow shoulders slump a bit. He doesn’t look at Wayne, tearing open his chocolate milk with his teeth. 

“I just— didn’t wanna go today. I hate school. Miss Taylor always gives me a bad behavior grade even when I act the best in class. She calls me Junior. Munson Junior.”

“Thought you liked being called Junior. Like your dad.”

Eddie shrugs, those shadows darkening on him. “Everyone forgets I have my own name too. Sometimes I just wanna be Eddie.”

Already, he’s feeling the weight of his last name. Al taught him to hotwire the second he turned 10 and how to pick locks even before that. Munson tradition, Al wouldn’t listen when Wayne told him that’s bullshit. What seem like cool tricks to Eddie now already make him guilty in everyone’s eyes. Wayne’s been feeling it all his life, thanks to his old man and now Eddie’s got Al to thank for making it even worse.

“That’s good, you just keep reminding them,” Wayne says, being careful with his next words. “When you finish that, why don’t you go pack a bag, alright? You can come stay with me until your dad gets back.”

Eddie goes stiff, chewing slower now. “It— it hasn’t been long. He said he’d be right back.” His eyes drift over to Wayne, checking to see if he buys it. Wayne doesn’t. So Eddie huffs, “I wanna stay here. I hate the trailer park.”

That’s just him repeating Al’s shit talk, so Wayne doesn’t take offense. “Your friend’s been askin’ about you. That little girl next door.”

Eddie perks up at that, “Ronnie?” Wayne nods and thinks that does the trick for a second, but Eddie stubbornly sulks again. “I can’t go. Dad told me to stay here until he gets back.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be here alone. You don’t have to be.”

“I’m not scared to stay by myself,” Eddie insists, sitting up straighter, looking even younger trying to look older. “Dad said I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m 10 now and I can look after myself. He taught me to use the stove and everything. I always do fine on my own.”

“So he’s been leaving a lot, then? You know you can call me to come pick you up,” Wayne tries not to frame it like it’s Eddie’s fault, pointing to where his phone number is pinned on the fridge with a magnet.

Eddie’s lip wobbles despite how he tries to square his jaw.

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“You ain’t—”

“You said to call if I need you and I don’t need you, Wayne! I'm fine!”

Eddie shoves the food away, his eyes wide and shiny when he cuts them back to Wayne. Not glaring with anger, just hurt. 

“It’s not fine,” Wayne tells him, gentle as the first time he held him, just a tiny thing all bundled up in Elizabeth’s knitting. “Your dad’s got his head in his ass again. You can’t stay here on your own, no matter what he said. I ain’t leaving you by yourself.”

“I’m not going.” Eddie’s more pleading now than arguing. “I have to stay here so Dad can find me when he gets back. Don’t you get that? If I’m not here, I won’t see him.”

That’s what it’s really about, Eddie thinking it’s his responsibility to keep up with his Dad. Instead of the other way around.

“If he comes looking for you, he’ll know where to find you.” But Al won’t. It’s never Eddie that he comes back for. Wayne doesn’t tell Eddie that, but now Eddie’s starting to learn that on his own. Al proved it to him time and time again.

“Why do you even care?” Eddie’s angry now. But it’s not really Wayne that he’s mad at. They both know that.

“It’s alright, son, c’mon now.” Wayne reaches for him but Eddie quickly pushes his hand away.

“You aren’t my dad.” Tears escape with the words, and seeing his pain hurts Wayne more than anything he could say, or do. He pushes Wayne again. “So why do you care? Why are you here?”

He doesn’t need an answer, he just needs to let it out.

So Wayne sits there while Eddie shoves his chest and cries harder, “You aren’t my dad. Why do you care?” Wayne curls his hands around Eddie’s smaller ones as the question turns to, “Why aren’t you?” Then it’s a broken little sob of, “Why aren’t you my dad?”

Wayne catches Eddie when he finally tires himself out, and instead of pushing Wayne away, Eddie’s clinging to him. Eddie’s holding on like Wayne’s all he’s got left in the world. Wayne hugs Eddie to his chest, wishing there was more he could do.

Al put a hole in Eddie and he’s digging it deeper everyday, one that Wayne won’t ever quite fit into. He tries to fill it the best he can, giving Eddie the only bedroom in the trailer, going to the talent show because Al never makes good on his promises to be there for Eddie, not letting Eddie stay in this damn house alone waiting for someone who’s never gonna show up. Maybe Wayne’s not that someone, but he can still be here for Eddie. And he’s gonna be.

“C’mon, let’s get you outta here.”

[paint-the-walls-white]

Mein Liebe

Pairing: König x PlusSized!Reader

Summary: After meeting an incredibly large man, at a McDonalds, every part of life changes thanks to him.

Warnings: BDE! StomachBulge! Doggy! Sideways! Oral(M2F)! CreamPies! Breeding! Lots of biting! SexualHarassment!

König was big. He was always described as mountainous, even towering over the most intimidating members of Task Force 141, Ghost included.

He was very reserved as a person, social anxiety getting the best of him most of the time. But, nonetheless, his team always did their best to push him out of his shell. But at this point they were getting desperate.

Which is why they sent him to McDonalds to get everyone Lunch. He was bitter about it, but he was pretty hungry, and it was only a short drive from the base. Besides, it would be a nice change of pace from the cantina's shit on a plate.

It was supposed to be easy, he even had their orders on a piece of paper. But then the drive through intercom was down, courtesy of TF141 tampering with radio signals in the area.

König had to go inside. It was still fine though, he could always use the kiosks right?

Of course not. A cruel twist of fate really. The local crackhead had caused a ruckus and had broken both of them, shattering the screen.

He'd have to order at the counter.

Heart racing, eyes darting, and breath unsteady, he approached the counter. It was quiet inside, not too busy but not entirely empty either.

But then his heart started pounding for another reason.

The prettiest sight he had ever seen. Bright eyes, shiny hair, soft, plump lips, long eye lashes, and a little weight he could hold onto.

"Hi, welcome to McDonalds, my name is Y/N, what can I get started for you?"

König swallowed sharply, your voice was music to his ears. A sweet melody he would never get sick of. A heavy blush crawled up his neck and face as his eyes dilated.

"U-uh, I need, uh.. Scheise.. Uh Big macs? And uh.. Chicken nuggets."

You nodded, refusing to break eye contact. This hulk of a man was checking all the boxes, even ones you didn't even know you had. Your eyes looked dark with how big your pupils were, attempting to flood your field of vision with this man.

"Ok, what size for those? And is that a Ten or Twenty Piece?"

König swallowed again, his throat impossibly hoarse. "Large. uh.. Twenty please"

"Perfect, and the drinks?" You eyed him through your lashes. You wanted to climb him like a tree for sure, but you also just wanted to lie on him like a mattress and soak in his scent. Gun powder, smoke, and sweet sweet Pine. It was heavenly.

"Just S-Sprites and a Coke.." It was taking so much out of him to talk to you, but he wanted to keep going. If he didn’t, surely the TF141 would laugh at him. Again.

"Alrighty, your total is going to be.. $53.28, Is that going to be for here or to-go?"

You smacked yourself mentally, of course it was to-go, There was literally no one else decked out in military gear there.

"To-go," He watched, almost amused as you flushed in obvious embarrassment.

"Right, of course yeah.." You looked at him again, very intimidated by his gaze, "What's your.. name?"

This broke the intense concentration he had just developed. His name. Why did you want to know his name? Did you want him too? No, there's no way. But then why? What was his name? His name.. oh yeah,

"König."

"Oh, ok.. Is that spelled K-o-n-i-g?"

He gave a curt nod and paid in cash, gingerly brushing against your small hand. The contact did not go unnoticed by you. You shivered a bit and counted out the money hurriedly, hands shaking and face red. You ripped the receipt from the machine and wrote something on it before speaking.

"I-I'll call you when it's ready! Here's your change," You placed the bills in his palm with the receipt and dropped the coins in after, reveling in the warmth of his hand for a second before pulling back and getting the drink cups for him.

"Here are your cups and carrier, I doubled it for you so they won’t fall out."

You were so considerate and sweet. He reveled in your presence, waiting patiently at a booth across from the counter, knee bouncing and hands fiddling with his gloves and Velcro.

After a few minutes of waiting and watching you intently, you called for him,

"König? Your order is ready," You stepped out from behind the counter and approached him. He quickly stood, taking one step to meet your three before offering him the bags.

"Would you like help taking it out? To the car I mean.." You bashfully gnawed on your lip and gazed up at him. He nodded, but truthfully he could have easily carried it all without your help, he just wanted more time with you before he had to leave.

You passed him the last bag and he turned to face you again, gaze intense and completely silent.

"Oh, I have something for you," You reached into your back pocket and pulled out what looked like a small controller with random buttons on it. "It's a fidget toy, I use it when I get anxious too, but you seem like you could use it a bit more.."

He swallowed hard, trying to pass the lump in his throat as he took in every detail of your face.

"Thank you.. Wunderschöne Augen (Gorgeous Eyes).." He muttered the compliment under his mask, eyes shining in awe as dusk hit your bright irises.

"What?" You didn't understand what he said, but the way his eyes were softening and the way his shoulders were relaxing clued you in that it was probably a compliment.

"U-uh.. Your eyes.. They're beautiful.." He averted his gaze. You blushed, averting your gaze as well, muttering a small thank you before you heard yelling from inside.

"Ugh.. Bitch.. Sorry, I have to go.. Duty calls.. haha.."

You waved goodbye and started walking away, "Oh and I left you a little present on your receipt!" Your brazen attempt at flirting caused you to panic internally the rest of your shift.

On the way home, it wasn't any better, you were itching to pick up your phone and see if he had texted you, but you refused on account of your parents dying in a car accident because of texting and driving.

So when you got home you waited, and waited.

But Konig was freaking out so hard. The second he saw you had left your phone number and a little "Call me at 11!" he panicked, speeding back to base where he sat with TF141 barely touching his food as he held the receipt with shaky hands.

Soap, who was sitting next to him, nudged him with his elbow, "What's wrong big fella? Not hungry? Whatchya got there?" he looks at the receipt, eyes widening and a grin spreading across his cheeks, "Oh boy! König here got a girls number!"

König snapped to look at him, eyes dizzy in complete shock, "Gott... was soll ich tun..? (God, what should I do?)"

Gaz spoke up, "Call her you big oaf! she's probably waitin' for ya!"

"But.. It is not 2300 hours.. That is when she said.. to.. to.."

To everyone's surprise Ghost spoke up, "Then eat. Call her at 2300."

Soap patted him on the back, "Lad, I know yer nervous, but listen to Ghostie over 'ere. Give er' a call."

He nodded silently, scarfing down his food before leaving for his room. He anxiously waited until 2300, each minute feeling like agony as he sat there, cell phone in hand, contact pulled up, hovering over the call button.

She sat on her bed, waiting for his call, but at about 10: 50 she decided to give up and rolled over to sleep, her phone next to head. She was so disappointed..

After what felt like forever, she groaned and checked her phone. 10:59. Then 11:00.

Her phone buzzed in her hand, an unknown caller. No way..

Hands shaking, König held the phone up to his ear,

'Hello? König is.. that you..?'

He sucked in a breath at your voice, "Ja, It's me.. How are you..?"

"Mm a bit tired.. but I don't mind staying up to talk to you, I don't have anywhere to be tomorrow.."

He huffed at the sound of your voice, it was angelic. "Ja? what if.. what if we.. go out?"

You gnawed at your lower lip, "I'd like that.. Where would we go?"

"You could.. You could come on base? I'll show you around Liebe.."

"Ok, when should I be there? Wait, what's the whole process of me coming onto base..?"

His chuckle rang out in your ears. He felt oddly confident with you, like there wasn't a worry in the world. He explained about the visitor passes and how this week was friends and family week so it should be very straight forward.

'Ok, I’ll be there at 8 am then? or wait.. 0800 hours? Did I say it right..?'

He chuckled again, "Ja Liebe.. Good job.. Get some rest,"

You told him goodnight and hung up the phone, squealing into your pillow. How could you sleep when you were going to see him?

The very next morning you woke up at around 5 am, you took extra time showering, making sure to use every single product you had, brushed your teeth 2 times, and washed your face 3 times before putting your hair in a hair curler and sitting to do your makeup.

Over an hour later of fucking up eyeliner, restarting twice and stabbing yourself in the eye with mascara, you finally pulled your hair from the curler, pulled on a frilly pink dress, and some chunky white heels with frilly white socks.

You also accessorized with little flowers wherever you could and headed out the door to Base, which was luckily a few minutes away.

Upon reaching the gate the guard eyed you up and down, "Who are you here for, pretty girl?"

"Um.. König?" His gaze made you uncomfortable as he barked out a laugh.

"What’s so funny, Private?"

His voice was obviously chilling but you couldn't help being excited to see him.

You hugged tight around his waist, your head resting just under his chest. He flushed, patting your head as he glared at the man in the booth, silently demanding all inclusive passes for everything.

"Liebe, come with me.. I have much to show you.."

He offered you his hand, bringing out a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. You eagerly wrapped around his arm and nuzzled into his side, taking the flowers.

"Oh thank you König, they're beautiful..!"

"Anything for you Liebe.." You looked up to meet his intense gaze, blushing as you watched his eyes darken and soften. He was so freaking.. Ugh!

The very first thing he did was show off his quarters. His bed was massive of course, you assumed far larger than any other available bed. Squealing, you belly flopped onto the bed.

"Your bed is so big! and it smells just like you" You buried your face into the blankets, taking in every ounce of him as you could, until you felt weight on either side of your head.

"Ja? You like it?" You flipped onto your back to face him, quickly locking eyes with him. His gaze made you blush but you enjoyed his presence.

"Oh my god wait can you please do something for me? I know this is gonna sound weird.." You fiddled with the part of his mask that was draping over your chest, "Could you lay on top of me? just full on crush me,"

His expression immediately changed to bewilderment before chuckling, "I'll suffocate you Lamm (Lamb).. But alright.."

Konig eased down onto you, putting the full weight of his torso down on your small frame. You had bent and spread your knees so he would fit snugly on top of you and you let out weary breath,

"Oh my god this is perfect.. Just stay here for a sec.." Your breathing was labored and he could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

"You sure Liebe? You sound like you cant breath,"

"No no, I'm good...this feels amazing.." The weight literally made you decompress as you settled into the bed, gently scratching his back with your newly manicured nails. He groaned softly into your chest, resting his face between them. You both laid there for what seemed like forever but was actually 15 minutes before he raised himself on his elbows.

"We should go now Lamm, there are many things to do today," You nodded, dazed, breathless, and completely flushed. The sight nearly made him pass out as you panted below him. He raised you to your feet and walked you down to the Cantina where you both got breakfast and he led you to the table with TF141 You were directly behind König as he approached the table. Soap greeted him first,

"Oi Lad! Did you end up callin’ the lass last night?"

"Ja, She's here today."

Gaz whistled, "Well where is she? don't tell me ya scared her off already."

König looked to his left and right frantically before you spoke up meekly, "Here.." You stepped out from behind König, his hulking figure incomprehensible to yours. You shifted uncomfortable under the gobsmacked gaze of TF141 before König helped you into your seat and sat beside you.

"Lad, you're gonna split 'er in half- Oi!" Ghost elbowed Soap, sharply glaring at him. "ahem.. I meant, what's yer name Lass?"

You told them, completely anxious. They were all so intimidating, and not the same way König was. König was hot and intimidating, these men were straight up scary.

"Don't be shy little lady! We ain't gonna bite! Well I mean the mountain here might but still!" Gaz's words brought little comfort but the idea of König biting you was a nice distraction.

"Lass sie in Ruhe! (Leave her alone) Christ you lot are making her anxious! Bastarde..." Konig placed a comforting hand on your thigh and you scooted closer to him to whisper in his ear, which he had to lean down for you to do.

He flushed and sat straight up, shoving food under his mask and choking on it slightly.

'I wouldn't mind if you bite..'

The boys all cackled, completely unaware of what you had said. The breakfast went well, but you eventually broke away from the group to spend the day with Konig. He pampered you endlessly, buying you anything you touched, doing everything you wanted to do just as excited as you were about it, but only because he was doing it with you.

While mini golfing, because why not, he stepped away to use the bathroom. You did a couple of practice shots while waiting for him until you felt a presence behind you.

"Hey pretty girl, who are you here for?"

"He's in the bathroom." You didn't even meet his gaze. It didn't matter, König was gonna be there any second anyway.

"Hey.. Look at me when I'm talking to you," He grabbed your shoulder, digging his fingers into the skin. It hurt. The atmosphere changed suddenly, a threatening aura quickly approaching. But it didn't matter.

Because you swiftly turned to face the man grabbing you and crunched the chunky heel of your shoe into his crotch. There was a sickening crutch, a pathetic squeal and the area went quiet with the collective wince of any man in the immediate area.

"Don't touch me," You nonchalantly returned to practicing your putt as Konig warily approached.

"Gott lamm.. he's never having kids.." You looked up at him for a second.

"I told him I was here with someone else and he grabbed me. Not my fault."

He chortled and patted your hair. You whined that he was gonna mess it up but you could see the smirk in his eyes.

"I'd rather ruin it another way.."

You challenged him, "I'd rather you ruin my makeup, but I suppose that could work too,"

He faltered, Clearly a bright red under the mask before he gently grabbed your hand. You met his gaze again and smiled softly, nodding before he dragged you away from the game,

"König-! I can't keep up-! Eek!" He stopped before throwing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing, holding down your skirt as he sprinted to his room.

König slammed the door behind the two of you and threw you onto the bed. You squealed with laughter as you bounced, nervously sucking in a breath as he started gently taking off your socks and shoes, placing a kiss on the top of your foot and along your shin until he reached the skirt of your dress.

"Mein Gott... I want to worship every inch of you Mein Liebe.. You're so perfect.."

You stood and turned around so he could unzip your dress, a pure white lacy bra and thong with little pink bows underneath. He groaned under his breath before reaching for his mask. He hesitated for a second before ripping off the mask. His hair was thick but short, a very shiny black. a scar made its way from his chin across his lips and to the opposite side of his nose.

He was so fucking hot.

And he was also beet red, waiting for your reaction, but you just jumped, pressing a kiss to his lips and giggled. You cupped his face, eyes dizzy and lips upturned in a small smile

"You're so handsome, why hide it?" He groaned, sinking to your lips where he kissed you as deeply as he could.

"Mein Liebe.. Ich werde dich zu meiner Frau machen... (Im going to make you my wife..)"

You whined into his kiss, tugging at his shirt, "Off.. please.."

"Patience Lamm... let me pamper you.." He gingerly rubbed a finger against your sloppy folds and groaned "Scheiße.. You're so wet already.." You whined, tightly gripping his shoulders as you met his gaze.

He sunk a finger into you, watching intently as you threw your head back and moaned loudly. His finger was so big and so thick, it was almost as big as your two fingers alone; and then he added a second.

"Ah-! König.." you arched your back into him, feeling your gummy cunt squeeze around his fingers. He groaned into your neck.

"Das ist... Good Girl.. cum on my fingers mein Liebe..." He bit softly into your neck, causing you to seize up and cum on his fingers, squirting into his palm. You'd never been able to cum before but he had barely touched you and here you were, shaking under him with your slick pooling on his blankets.

"König.." you whimpered, watching his gaze darken as he lapped his fingers clean of your mess before he shifted onto the floor, slinging your legs over his shoulders, pushing your underwear to the side and lapping at you like a starved man.

It had all happened so fast and so slow at the same time that you didn't have time to protest or react. But god did it feel good..

He groaned against your clit as you gripped his hair and squeezed his head tightly with your thighs. they were so thick and soft, he had gotten so used to firmness muscles and callous skin. It was incredible.

All you could do was arch into him, on the verge of another orgasm so quickly until he pulled away. You wanted to protest but watched as he stripped off his shirt, moaning at the sight of his broad chest, thick shoulders, and soft abs.

König hurriedly unbuckled his pants, the sound of it alone causing your heart to pound faster, then watched as his dick sprang from the confines of his pants, painfully hard. And scarily big.

"Oh my god.." It was almost a horrified whisper if you weren't so mesmerized by the sight of the throbbing vein along the base and the angry red of his tip.

You finally unclipped your bra and threw it to the side as he ripped off your underwear, angry red lines marking your skin. He trailed kisses up your soft, fatty stomach. He loved it so much, how soft and doughy you were underneath him, sucking every inch of skin he could into his mouth as you moaned and writhed underneath him

"Pleasee.. No more teasing..."

"Mein Liebe.. I must mark every inch of your skin.. how else will others know who you belong too?"

You hid your face with your arm in embarrassment and whined as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, pinching the other one,

"Don't say it like that.."

He groaned as he rubbed the head of his cock along her wet slit, sinking in the head and moaning.

"Scheiße.. You're so hot Lamm... and so wet..Scheiße"

"K-König-! It's..too big-!" You whined, clawing at his back as he slowly sunk into you, each delicious inch stretching you impossibly wide.

König moaned as he sunk to the hilt, reveling in your tight, gummy cunt before he slowly pulled out and thrusted back in.

"Mein Gott Lamm.. So fucking tight...Scheiße!"

You moaned as he repeatedly sunk into you, picking up the pace until he groaned loudly, roughly grabbed your thigh and slung it over his shoulder, pounding at your hole at a brutal pace, likely bruising your cervix.

It felt so good and so overwhelming as a white heat bubbled in your core at each pass he made against your sensitive walls. He growled, biting into your neck and shoulder, lathering the harsh marks with his tongue as you took his cock so greedily.

"Das a good girl.. Look at you, you keep sucking me back in.. Gott.. Cum for me Lamm.."

She whimpered, just on the precipice of the most intense orgasm of her life, clawing at his back for purchase, begging for relief.

Tears flooded from her eyes as they rolled into her head as she came on his cock, squeezing around him tightly and moaning his name loudly, "König-!"

her vision was flooded with white, her orgasm prolonged as he continued to pound into her until he spilled his seed deep into her cunt. He groaned softly as he pulled out, listening to the hurried footsteps just outside the door. Whoever was listening, definitely wasn't anymore.

König chuckled against your cheek, "They heard you mein Liebe.. heard you taking my cock and my seed like such a Braves Mädchen..(Good girl)"

You flushed a bright red and buried your face into his shoulder, legs trembling around him, "König..! that's so embarrassing.."

"What my little Lamm? Want to be quiet as I fuck you? Why don't you bury your face in the pillows then hmm?"

He flipped you onto your stomach, pulling you to your knees as he tutted at you,

"Look at this waste..." He swiped the oozing cream pie up with his fingers and stuffed it back in. You whimpered as his calloused fingers rubbed your sensitive folds as he fingered his cum back into you.

"Das a good little slag.. taking my cum.." He grinned down at you as he slapped his cock on your clit, relishing in the yelps and whimpers you tried to hide.

"Beg for it Mein Liebe.. Beg for my cock.." He pressed soft kisses into your shoulder then bit your ear.

You muffled an embarrassed please into the pillow until he pulled you up by your hair, eliciting an insanely erotic moan as he tugged at your sensitive scalp, "Please-! Please König.. I need it-!"

"Braves Mädchen..." He stuffed his cock back into your gummy cunt, groaning as he raised up on his haunches. He pulled out until just his head was left, then he thrusted in as he pulled your hips to meet his.

He hit impossibly deep and impossible hard against your cervix. It would have hurt had the pressure not been so good. You moaned into the pillow, drool soaked into the fabric, and tears ran down your cheeks. Your makeup and hair was thoroughly ruined, but you didn't care; It was being ruined in the best way imaginable.

You came on his cock again, squirting onto his slick skin, dripping down onto the covers. He groaned at the sight.

"Look at you.. you're such a mess for me.. So slick and tight.. So perfect.. Mein Braves Mädchen... Scheiße.. I'm gonna cum.. Take it.."

You moaned loudly into the pillow, relishing in the feeling of his seed pooling into your ruined pussy, completely drunk on his cock. Eventually, all of the sensations were too much and you passed out.

König chuckled as he slipped from you, "Mein goodness Lamm.. You've made quite the mess... Lamm? Mein Liebe? uh oh,"

He turned you on your back and pressed his ear to your chest listening to your relaxing heartbeat and shallow breaths. He noted the small smile on your face as you slept peacefully before pulling you into his arms and grabbing a different blanket to sleep in.

It had just hit dusk when he heard a knock at his door. König stood, fitting his dick back into his pants and pulling on his mask before covering you with the blanket, kissing your head and opening the door.

"What?" He was obviously irritated, but it simmered when he realized it was Soap.

Soap glanced past König and smirked, "Good god is she dead?"

König rolled his eyes and blushed, "No, just passed out, What do you want Soap?"

"LT has a mission for us. We're gonna be deployed next week, I figured you'd want to tell your lass before then."

König's eyes saddened as he looked back. He had only gotten to spend a day with you and he literally didn't want to spend a second away from you. Now he had to leave?

He offered Soap a curt nod before slamming the door in his face and striding back over to you. you had turned to face the door, eyes slightly open and a tired frown on your face.

"You're being deployed?"

"Ja.. I'm so sorry Mein Liebe.. " he brushed the hair from your face and kissed away the tears of streaky mascara.

"I promise I'll come back safe.. Keine Sorge (Do not worry)"

As you moved to sit up you winced at the ache in your legs and arms. He scooped you into his arms as you wrapped around him like a koala.

"Please tell me you're not leaving to get away from me.." The worried cries that escaped your anxious mind stabbed him in the heart. It hurt so much.

"Oh Mein Liebe.. I would never.. This is killing me.. Nein.. Id never.."

You pulled away, peeling up the mask over his nose and kissed him,

"I'll write to you every day you're gone.."

"I will read them every day.. And any day I cannot write.. I will write two the next day.. So on and so forth.."

You whimpered in his arms. You weren't sure why it hurt so much, maybe he was your soulmate, because that burning pain in your heart was mirrored in his and it fucking sucked.

The few days leading up to the deployment he spent every available second talking to or pampering you. It could be gifts of food, flowers, or stuffed animals. But it was often multiple orgasms, shaky legs, and painful looking hickeys littered across your neck, shoulders, breasts, thighs and ass.

He bit into your shoulder, teeth marks angry and red. You whined as he licked away the stinging pain as he thrusted into you again and again.

"At this rate.. Mnn.. These wont fa-Aye-!de... until you're backk-!"

"That's the point mein Liebe... Scheiße.. You're so tight.."

You watched in the bathroom mirror as he tightly held your hips to his as he pounded against you brutally trying to shape you so you never forget the feeling of his cock.

The week went so fast yet so slow all at the same time. When you parted one last time you cried into his arms. You didn't want him to go, not when you were falling in love with him.

Every day seemed bleak. You wrote to him every day about all the thoughts that had crossed your mind. You had sent him various and frequent care packages. It was almost scary how you knew exactly what he needed.

He had a hard time falling asleep? You sent him a weighted dinosaur covered in your perfume and a bottle of the same kind in case the smell faded. You also sent him drowsy tea and so many baked treats.

His feet and knees were killing him? you sent him memory foam gel inserts, somehow in his exact size and Icy Hot to help with the pain- and of course more treats.

You baked so much in your spare time because of how lonely you were. It hurt to be without him, and you feared every day that he was hurt or dead.

Months of letters back and forth. Your friends kept urging you to just sleep with someone, so you cut them off to find better friends. They didn't know him, they didn't get to call him a weirdo.

Oftentimes at work you would get berated, and since you were more stressed out, you often snapped back. This sometimes worked better than that good old fashioned customer service attitude.

"You don't get to yell at me because you forgot to order a shake. I put your food on the warmer so it won't get cold, it'll be ready in a minute and a half. Have some patience."

Your face was stern but not mean. This often got you more tips. And phone numbers?

Why the hell did creepy old men think it was ok to hit on a girl half their age? And why did they find you yelling at them arousing?!

Every day at work got harder until finally, FINALLY, you were accepted into a paid internship through your university and you made far more in a field you were studying to be in. It was honestly your dream job but there was one big problem.

Joshua.

He was a good worker, always got work in on time, but oh my god was he a pervert. He had already slept with half the women in the office, but for some reason he really wanted to get with you. And the worst part was he was your boss.

"I'm not interested sir, please keep this professional."

"Oh come on sweetheart, what's wrong with a little messing around?"

"Well for one-" He always interrupted you, it really pissed you off.

"I'll give you a 50% raise if you sleep with me,"

"You literally can't, and-"

"I'll work my magic sweetheart!"

"Stop Calling me that! I am not sleeping with you Josh! Fuck Off!"

You had stormed back to your cubicle and not much later had gotten an email from HR about disorderly conduct. and who sent in the complaint?

It wasn't Josh, It was fucking Debbie.

She may have been worse than Josh, because she slept her way up the ranks and was his current play toy. The reason she complained?

Fraternizing.

What. The. Fuck.

You had been there for Six months and never once spoke out against anyone, and the one time you did because you were still being sexually harassed, someone tattles on you for yelling? Hell No.

That day when you got home, you cried. And you cried hard. You loved your job so much, but the work environment was so toxic, you didn't know what to do and you missed König so much it hurt and-

Your phone started ringing. König was calling.

"H-Hello?" You sniffed, raising the alarms.

"Mein Liebe? What is wrong my sweet? Who made you cry?"

"I-It's nothing I'll tell you later, please, just tell me you're coming home soon.. I miss you so much.."

He huffed, "Soon my love. The mission was successful. That human trafficking ring was completely demolished. I'll be home in a month."

"Oh my gosh-! a month?! That's so soon! What date exactly, I'm writing it down on my calendar."

König chuckled as he heard your feet run across the house. He told you the date and excitedly wrote it down.

"Now Mein Liebe, tell me. Who. Made. You. Cry? "

The crushing weight of anxiety and stress pressed down so hard you just sobbed and sobbed. You told him about the harassment, how you loved your job but wanted to leave because of some jerk, how everyone was great except for like two people and then you told him who it was.

"And if Josh could just fucking leave me alone I wouldn't have a meeting with HR because Debbie doesn't like the idea of her douche bag getting with someone else!"

"What did you say his last name was again?"

"uh Davidson.. why?"

He chuckled again, "No reason my love.. I'm running out of time on this call, Ich Liebe dich."

"I love you too König, I’ll write to you tomorrow ok?"

"Do not fret Liebling, It will all be taken care of."

You had no idea what he meant, but you smiled and hung up the phone. You had always felt so much better after talking to him or reading his letters.

Which is why you wanted to do something extra special for him, especially since you had been dating for nearly two years at this point.

So that weekend you scheduled with a photographer friend of yours a sexy photo shoot where you posed in all different kinds of underwear and suggestive poses. You both giggled as you wrapped up the pictures in a little scrap book and added it into his next care package, with a little note to open it when he was alone.

Apparently, the note had slipped from its place on the cover and when he opened the box, normally to share the snacks you send with TF141, he opened the book with a crowd gathered over his shoulder before quickly slamming it shut.

He stammered, he couldn't even get a word out as even Ghost patted him on the shoulder, hooting and hollering with laughter at his embarrassment.

"Good on ya Lad! That Lass really loves ya!" Soap patted him on the back extra hard, causing the book to fall from his hands and flip to a random page where you were clearly seen clad in black lacy lingerie and one of his spare masks on.

He scrambled to pick it up ready to explode as the laughter got even louder, the group hunched over, relishing in his misery. In his heart he knew it was all good fun and he'd be able to laugh about it later but right now he wanted to melt into a puddle and die.

When he was alone, he made good use of the pictures, fisting his cock as if it were your tight pussy wrapped around him. There were a plethora of pictures to choose from, but you with his mask on just did it for him; especially with that look in your eye, like you were ready to be bred.

He came in his palm, quick to wipe it away with a tissue as he continued to admire your shy yet confident face, pupils blown wide, cheeks a healthy glowing red and your skin flushed pink. He noticed that your skin was healed from his marks, which he would have to change as soon as he got home tomorrow.

Konig was coming home early with a surprise- and to handle your problem.

The next day had definitely started hellish. You spilled your coffee on your blouse so you had to go into work with just the tank top and suit jacket, which of course was perfect for prying eyes, no matter how hard you hid your cleavage.

The meeting with HR went ok, especially since you brought up the sexual harassment, which led to an investigation on Josh, but you were sure it was going to lead no where (as usual).

And then you went to lunch. Which for some reason, Josh saw as an invitation to sit down with you. He had talked so much that you had drowned out everything, completely unaware of your surroundings. Except for when he grabbed your hand. You yanked it away, ready to yell at him but he stopped everything.

He wasn't even looking at you. He was looking behind you, completely terrified. And then you felt that familiar hand on your shoulder.

"Is this the guy you told me about Mein Liebe?"

You whipped around and stood to hug him, crying happy tears, even as his tactical vest dug uncomfortably in your skin.

He hugged you tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he glared down at the small man. He chuckled, shifting to a lighter tone.

"I've missed you too, Liebling. Give me one second.."

He stood up fully, turning his attention to Josh. He grit his teeth.

"Ah, you must be the man Mein Liebe was talking about, haha! Boy did she talk about you. Ahh.. Yeah if you ever make a comment about my wife or to my wife again, I will kill you." Josh chuckled nervously and König cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, that sounded like a joke, I will actually, Fucking Kill you."

The cafeteria was silent and you smirked at Josh pissing his pants.

"Now, my Liebe, where were we? Ah yes."

You watched, tears welling in your eyes as he knelt before you and pulled a small box from his pocket. You laughed and cried and covered your mouth and cried, nodding your head.

"I haven't even asked yet Liebling.. ahem.." his gaze flicked around the room at the cameras but he ignored them, right now he needed to be with you.

"Mein Liebe.. being away from you.. for.. so fucking long.. has been insufferable... Ich liebe dich so much.. I need you to be my wife.. so badly.. so desperately.. I need your comfort, and your touch and your love more than I need oxygen. Please, marry me?"

You jumped and wrapped around him so tightly, crying and nodding yes. It would have been pathetic if it wasn't so sweet.

"There is not a doubt in my mind that I want to be married to you."

He gently took your hand, slipping the ring on your finger and kissed your hand. Afterwards he bought you flowers, your favorite of course, and took you to lunch for the remainder of your break, and then he remained guarding your cubicle. Which was good as Josh approached several times but turned away the second König gave him a glare.

This repeated for the remainder of your work day until he drove you home where he continued to service you, right on the wall by the front door.

Your skirt was bunched up around your hips, sitting on his shoulders as he lapped at your clit like a starved man, not even bothering to take off the mask all the way, but pushing it above his nose.

His fingers pumped into you as you gripped at the top of his head, head thrown back as you rutted against his face, desperate for a release.

You quickly squirted in his mouth, but he kept going until you were sobbing that it was too much, which was only after another two orgasms.

"I can't help it mein Liebe.. You look so fucking Wunderschön with my ring.. Gott I'm lucky.."

He threw you over his shoulder like a sack of flour and brought you to the bedroom. His cock was painfully hard, but he didn't care. He needed to replace all of the healed marks on your skin.

König ripped off your tank top and bra, quickly discarding the mask entirely as he bit into your shoulder, making his way up your neck with rough sucks and even rougher bites until he had made his way across your collarbone.

All you could do was moan at the pain of his teeth and the pleasure of his tongue as he moved his attention to your breasts, trailing his treatment back in between your legs where he ripped off the remainder of your clothes.

He lapped up your arousal once before making his way over you and pulling his cock out of his pants. The head was drooling with cum as he continued to kiss your body, worshiping every freckle, mole, and stretch mark until he met your lips and sunk all the way to the hilt.

He groaned at the feeling of your gummy walls squeezing him tightly.

"This is so much better than my hand Liebling... Scheiße.... So beautiful wrapped around me like this.. Gott.."

"Königg.. That's embarrassing..." you whined as he pulled out and sunk back in, head thrown back as tears flooded from your eyes.

His pace was ruthless as he rutted into you desperately, fucking his cum into you every time he finished. He refused to let up, his pent up arousal was too much, even as he had you on your side, leg thrown over his shoulder, squeezing your ass and tracing the bulge in your stomach every time he filled you with his meaty cock.

Fat tears kept rolling down your cheeks as you felt that impossibly good pressure on your cervix each time he kissed it with the head of his dick, knowing it would be bruised for at least two weeks.

Your lips parted in a silent scream, drool slipping onto the pillow as you came on his cock again, the bed sheets long since ruined. He groaned as he spurted thick ropes of hot cum into you again, pressed as deep into you as he could before collapsing into your chest, kissing the valley between them sweetly.

"You're going to be so Wunderschön pregnant with my babe mein liebe.. Gott.. So Wunderschön.."

"I love you König.." you weaved your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp as he sighed contently, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Ich Liebe Dich, mein Lamm.."

Two weeks later, while he was at work you had taken a pregnancy test. Pregnant.

No one was shocked, to be honest. But everyone was definitely happy.

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

You: Someone unable to appreciate "real" food because you're desensitised to junk (your fav meal is McD chicken nuggets and you're convinced that no one can take that from you.)

Chef! Simon: A fine dining, Michelin-starred chef who's determined to train your taste buds to appreciate real food.

The only vision of this I have:

You go to Simon's restaurant with idk maybe your girl friend because her partner was called away to work on emergency, and she didn't want to waste the booking to the fancy place, whatever it doesn't matter. You get the simplest thing on the menu, nibble at it and then send it back half-eaten. Simon is so aghast at this that he comes out to the floor himself, wants to meet the customer who dared send his food back. Asks if there was a quality problem. Asks what about the dish wasn't to your taste. Asks if he can make you anything else.

When you say no to all of the above, he's polite (but seething inside) and leaves. Comps your meal. Invites you back privately.

His form of romancing you is inviting you back to his restaurant after hours and taking you on a culinary journey, introducing you to flavours and textures you've never tried before, finding the tastes that you like, feeding you iterations of those until you feel comfortable to try fancier stuff.

You both fall in love in the process.

He stands in between your legs as you sit on his kitchen counter after hours one day. Two dishes in front of you - one containing McD chicken nuggets, one containing nuggets that he's made. Per his request, you try both.

He kisses you for the first time when you tell him you can't believe you ever liked McDonald's.

[sunsetsimon]

SO ABOUT THE RECENT PREGGO Y/N. IMAGINE. SIMON FINDS HIS POOKIE BOO BEAR CRYING HER EYES OUT EVEN AFTER HE GOT HER WHAT SHE WAS CRAVING, “I know I said McDonalds sounded good but it doesn’t sound good anymore..” AND SIMON JUST IMMEDIATELY BOLTS OUT THE ROOM TO BUY HER CRAVING.

ARE YOU IN MY BRAIN AND READING MY THOUGHTS????? I WAS JUST THINKING OF THIS

simon had just returned from his daily run, drenched in sweat and his cheeks are bright red from being nipped by the cold air. he found you on the couch, folding the basket of laundry fresh out of the dryer. kissing your temple, he grabs one of the piles of towels and walks it to the kitchen drawer to put away.

“what do you want for dinner tonight, lovie?” he asks from the other room. you can hear the fridge open, simon looking for something to make. "we have this chicken we can do something with. unless you want somethin' else."

you're silent, pondering what you want to eat. you aren't feeling the chicken, so you start thinking of every restaurant near you, going through the list to find something appealing. simon walks back into the room, about to ask if you're okay but he can see you're deep in thought.

before your pregnancy, you were usually fine with anything that was in the fridge. but now your cravings are so intense, you have to contemplate exactly what you want or else you'll end up not wanting to eat. although tonight nothing is sticking out to you, for once ot able to tell him what you want.

"i don't really know.. maybe something quick like mcdonalds i guess," you shrug, lowkey upset that you're lacking an appetite right now.

"are you sure?" simon's shocked that you aren't really hungry, feeling the annoyance start to drip off of you as you just huff a yes and he leaves before he pisses you off even more.

his girl's mood being ruined because she doesn't have a craving right now, how cute, he thinks. making his way to the mcdonalds, he pulls through the drive thru line after ordering your regular, and for him a double quarter pounder meal, with a 10 piece nugget on the side. though he knows it's not good for him, his stomach is growling at the smell of the fast food.

he's passing the mcdonald's worker his card as your ringtone erupts in his car, an incoming call connecting to his bluetooth. immediately pressing answer, he grabs the two drinks from the worker and sets them in the carrier. "everythin' alright, love?"

your beautiful voice fills the air, the corner of his lip twitching into a smile as he feels the relaxed tone of your voice, everything is okay. your mood seems better too.

"yeah everything's fine. i was thinking, instead of mcdonald's, we can get that new chinese place that just opened up on cavell street."

as you say that, the worker hands him back his card, then the bag of your food. nodding a thank you, he pulls forward, "m'already leaving mcdonald's now, love. just got our food."

"oh," you say, voice dropping with sadness. he feels bad as he can tell you were excited at the idea of trying something new. "okay. maybe next time then."

he can hear the constriction in your throat, voice quiet as you're fighting back tears. his heart clenches, grabbing his phone to search in the address of the chinese restaurant, it's only 6 minutes from here, he can make it.

"call in your order under my name, gonna go pick it up."

"you already got the food!"

"i'll eat your meal too. call it in so i don't have to wait long! i love you!" he says, quickly ending the call before you can continue to protest, knowing you're giddy and excited at home that you got your way once again.

and of course he's right, as you quickly run out to the car when you see the lights pull in. greeting him with a kiss as your hand reaches over him to grab the bag and your drink, leaving simon with his mcdonalds. it smells amazing, the aroma of the spices and seasonings fills your nose.

"you hungry now?" he laughs, following you in and kicking the door closed with his foot. you're smiling, licking your lips as you nod at him, too focused on opening the bag to speak. revealing your order, you take a deep inhale, humming and buzzing with happiness as you get to eat your craving.

"thank you so much simon!" you say, giving him a few pecks on his cheek.

"anythin' for you, mama."

[thatsdemko]

drunk on you - l.hamilton

masterlist

requested: y

pairings: lewis Hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol + lewis being a simp + established relationship

a/n: I didn’t touch on all of your request I apologize :/. feedback is appreciated xx my requests are currently open!

you’re one that usually can handle their alcohol. meaning, you know when enough has been enough, but tonight? that’s not the case.

the Australian Grand Prix was a rollercoaster ride. red flags, crashes, and penalties some how all came to an end. Lewis got on the podium at third overall, but George, his teammate, gave you all quite the scare. it’s partially why you’re drinking, the cars go so fast you have no time to tell who’s in there. part of you thought it was lewis, and part of you was just praying whoever was in the car was safe. to your luck, George was safe, but that didn’t stop the alcohol from flowing.

lewis has been with you for many years. he can recall your drunk nights in a hotel room helping you change, making you drink water. he thoughts those days were behind you, and you learned your lessons. tonight’s a whole other story.

he watches you sway to the beat of the music with Carmen, one hand grips her waist and the other is carelessly swinging your fourth drink of the night. lewis has already paid his tab, it’s George’s who keeps the bottle service flowing.

you and Carmen are both stumbling over each other, bodies nearly pressed against each other holding on for dear life. lewis finally gives in, unable to watch you struggle anymore, he taps you on the shoulder. your lazy eyes flash at him, crooked drunk smile, you’re so happy to see him even though he’s been there the whole time.

“lew, baby! you wanna dance?” you remove your hand from Carmen’s waist, stumbling into Lewis. lucky that he’s got a great reaction time, he catches you, hands gripping your waist. you’re peppering his face with kisses, drunk mumbles of incoherent words under the loud music and slurred speech.

“I think we need to go home.” he suggests, hand caressing your cheek. as much as one loves watching their significant other dance freely and make sour faces while taking shots, lewis knows you’re beyond wasted and it’s time to head back. you’ve got an early flight back to London, and he wants to help sober you up for the night.

“boo!” Carmen shouts in Lewis’ face, you nod with her giving the same chant, and he laughs. he’s not sure how he used to do this, he wasn’t sure how he ever persuaded you.

“we can order ice cream? maybe some fast food?” he suggests, it’s not up his alley, but watching your face light up to the idea of ice cream and a treat that’s not vegan makes you nod eagerly.

“is there a McDonald’s?” you ask, drool nearly slipping down your lips at the thought of chicken nuggets and French fries. he chuckles wiping his thumb across your plumped pink lips.

he takes his arm, wrapping it around your waist, and helps you maneuver your way out the club. when you finally step foot into the warm Australian air, there’s a car waiting for you both to take you home. of course, holding his promise he redirects the driver to the nearest McDonald’s.

“I love you.” you rest your head against his shoulder watching him take the greasy brown bag from the driver. he feeds you a couple of fries, you’re practically munching his fingers off you didn’t realize just how hungry you were.

“just two seconds ago you and Carmen were mad at me.” he chuckles, smile appearing on his face you feel your heart nearly trying to throb its way out of your chest. god, that man beside you was like made from heaven.

“when a vegan gets someone McDonald’s you’re bound to love them.” you happily sigh prying your hands into the bag, rustling around to find a loose fry in the bag. he’d do anything for you, if you asked him to eat a hamburger that’s pure beef, he’d probably do it. only for you.

the driver lets you both know you’ve arrived, and Lewis generously tips the man for going out of his way. of course he takes a photo with him before calling it a night, and the two of you are in the hotel elevator while you shovel fries into your face.

when you get in the room Lewis is helping you take off your heels, and when they finally come off you exhale a loud sigh sauntering freely towards the bed where you allow him to help you slip out of your dress— still attempting to eat your McDonald’s in the process.

“will you still kiss me if I eat these?” you hold up the box of six chicken nuggets, he gets a whiff of the smell, nose scrunching but he nods pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“go ahead, eat.” he lays clothes out for you to change into, right now you’re just in a bra and spandex sprawled across the bed eating. he thinks it’s cute and a little bit funny, that when you’re so drunk you’ve lost all manners. you’re truly a whole other person.

he goes in the bathroom and changes, by the time he’s done getting ready for bed, he has a glass of water for you and you’ve already put on one of his shirts and his sweatpants. why did he ever think you’d want to wear your own clothes?

“drink this for me please. you’ll thank me later.” he hands you the glass, your hands wrapping it around it like a little kid, you tilt your head back chugging until it’s empty.

“that wasn’t vodka.” you frown feeling it wash down like normal, no burn or itch against your throat.

“sorry to disappoint.” he laughs watching you curl into the bed, forgetting all other aspects of your nightly routine, the sleepiness was finally taking over you.

“I would’ve preferred it to have been vodka.”

“come on, we still have skincare to do then we can go to bed.”

[hannie-dul-set]

THREE'S A CROWD — [preview].

SYNOPSIS. three of your friends fight for your affection, totally not because they like you— but simply because they can’t stand the idea of you liking someone else.

PAIRINGS. jung sungchan, park wonbin, hong seunghan x female! reader. GENRE. college! au, rom-com, reverse harem, just a bunch of arrogant and silly little boys in denial, a collection of italicized oh moments in succession, featuring the rest of riize and nct. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, mild possessiveness, so much petty and childish behavior, drinking, breaking and entering, may add more in the full fic. WORD COUNT. preview: 3.2k | full fic: est. 15-18k.

RELEASE DATE. november to december. TAGLIST. send an ask/dm/reply to be added.

NOTE. i said i'd do it. so i did. i am. and i'm having so much fun writing another shitstorm of a harem so i hope you find this as fun as i do HAHAHHAHA. sick and tired of seeing nothing but smut under the riize x reader tag so here is my contribution to society. you're welcome.

preview under the cut.

THERE ARE CURRENTLY THREE HEADS IN THE MALE DORMITORY LOUNGE. One is Sungchan, tinkering with the foosball table by himself because the other two heads are refusing to play with him. Second is Wonbin laid comfortably on the couch, headphones on and using his lap as a drum set. Last is Seunghan, on the floor for some reason, and eyes trained intently on his phone with his thumbs tapping on the screen like a madman.

The number gets added when Sohee rushes in from the front door, a large McDonald’s paper bag in hand and four large cups of soda in the other. “Order’s here!” he announces. The three heads quickly pop up from their respective businesses and congregate to the dining corner of the room.

“Fuck,” Sungchan groans, following the scent of the warm, freshly cooked mcnuggets on the table. The other three are already seated and poking holes in their soda cups. Sungchan is still groaning like a zombie. The two open nugget boxes are enticing him. He won’t . He must not. “I can’t eat. I forgot I had dinner plans tonight.”

“With a girl?” Sohee asks. The number of nuggets is depleting by the second. If the rest of the guys come down, there will be none left for him.

“Yes,” Sungchan replies. He swallows hard. Wonbin takes the boot shaped chicken right before his very eyes. This is torture.

Seunghan scrunches his nose, mid-nugget. “Boo. You whore. It’s guys night. How can you do this to us?” 

“A few nuggets can’t hurt,” says Wonbin. He pokes the box closer to Sungchan. 

“You’re right. Move over.”

They snort at his flimsy conviction. Sungchan argues that he is simply experiencing the delicacies of both the east and the west tonight. You’re supposed to have Japanese with him tonight. There is nothing wrong with cross-cultural enjoyment. He is simply diversifying his palate.

“So, is it a date?” asks Seunghan.

“No. I’m just eating out with a friend.”

“Just the two of you?” 

Wonbin raises a brow with the question. Sungchan counts the numbers in his head. “Yeah.” If he eats another nugget, then that would make it five. Five can be counted with only one hand. That isn’t a lot. This is fine.

“Oh man,” Sohee snickers. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure that’s a date.”

“No way!” he defends, the fifth and final nugget stuffed in his mouth. Sungchan swallows before continuing, wiping his hand on the pile of tissue papers on the table. “It’s not a date. I mean, she did tell me that she has a little crush on me, but it’s not a date.”

The three don’t miss the slight curl of his lips— a bastard’s sly grin. It’s a date. It’s definitely a date. Seunghan gives him a hard smack on the back. “The girl has a crush on you, how is it not a date, you piece of shit?”

“Ow! Hey!” he glares at him. “It really isn’t! We even had a whole talk we’re keeping it strictly platonic. I’m not interested in her in that way and she knows that. I’m not doing anything wrong here!”

There’s both disappointment and judgment in Wonbin’s face. “Quit leading her on.”

Sungchan gasps. “I’m not!”

“Who is it anyway?” Sohee asks right before taking an obnoxious sip on his soda. “Maybe I know her.”

“Well, I doubt it,” he starts. “I’m pretty sure you guys don’t know her, but she’s—”

Your name stumbles out of Sungchan’s mouth. It falls quiet, save for Sungchan’s explanation that he met you through the soccer team’s captain, Nakamoto Yuta, and that he’s known you for around half a year now. You’re in different majors, but it turns out you have quite a lot of friends from his team, so you bump into each other a lot. Sungchan knew about your crush on him early into your acquaintanceship— which is why having dinner with you and just you isn’t, “and shouldn’t be that big of a deal! It’s not a date. Seriously.”

“Okay, it’s not a date,” Sohee relents. Sungchan nods proudly at his victory.

“Yes. It is not.”

“But you know what’s funny—” Sohee’s eyes move to Seunghan. “The girl you told me about has the same name. What a coincidence.”

Seunghan is sitting on the table like a mound of stone. He’s got a half-eaten nugget in his hands. He’s not putting it in his mouth. “That’s right,” he simply says. There’s a faraway look in his eyes. “That is pretty funny. What a coincidence.” Coincidence, Seunghan repeats in his head. Yes. It must be a coincidence. He nods to himself and throws the nugget remnants into his mouth, satisfied with that conclusion.

“What girl?” Wonbin rouses. Seunghan turns his head to him sharply.

“Oh,” he says. “A friend from highschool.”

“A friend that’s had feelings for him since highschool,” Sohee grins. “You said she was pretty. Why didn’t you two start dating?”

Is this the chicken’s fault? Why the heck does everything keep circling back to dating? “I don’t know. I’ve just never seen her in that light,” Seunghan explains. He doesn’t know why he’s getting riled up, but he is. “And just because someone confessed to you doesn’t mean they want to start dating. Dude, I feel like you’re the one that should go and find a date. Being single is getting to your head.”

Seunghan has been friends with you since eleventh grade, being classmates and all. You confessed to him early into grade twelve, and even though he didn’t return your feelings, it was never awkward because you never acted differently. In fact, sometimes he second guesses if it actually happened. Just a few days ago, he asked if you still like him to confirm. All you said was, “yeah, why?” and continued working on your assignment. That’s why sometimes he forgets. That’s why it’s not worth bringing up.

Until now, when your name suddenly keeps popping up. Wonbin utters the same. Seunghan and Sungchan’s head quickly snap towards him. “You guys aren’t talking about SM-ARTS Chairperson, right?”

SM-ARTS is an art organization in your university. It’s been a well known org since its foundation— half because of its achievements, half because of its stupid (smart) name. “That’s...yes, that is her.” Seunghan gets a bad feeling. A really bad fucking feeling, and it’s not just having too much unhealthy chicken nuggets from McDonald’s. “Why? Do you also know her?”

“Of course I do. I’m literally her Vice Chair,” Wonbin furrows his brows. This is strange. He’s been working with you since the beginning of the year and you’ve never mentioned a Jung Sungchan nor a Hong Seunghan before. What’s even stranger is their assertions that you have feelings for them. You. For them. It’s a ridiculous thought to entertain because, “she literally told me that he has a crush on me. What are you two talking about?”

Wonbin couldn’t get a more direct confession than yours. It’s typical for the rest of your org officers and members to tease the both of you— the snickers and hollers when you’d call him to discuss something in private, the teasing saying you two look good together. Hell, some of the kids even call you both mom and dad and it’s gone to the point where he’s told them off to quit it because you might be uncomfortable. But you’d always say, “it’s fine,” and “you didn’t mind,” with a sweet smile on your face. Now, he’s no stranger to those insinuations, and for the sake of your professional relationship, he needed your denial or agreement.

Turns out, you do have a crush on him.

So this has become very, very awkward.

“Maybe—” Sungchan stammers. “Maybe...maybe we’re each talking about a different person, maybe there’s actually three different— oh, hey. What are you doing here?”

Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

“Hey!” 

The sound of your voice bouncing around the male dormitory walls feel foreign and jarring, especially after the conversation that had just transpired. You set down your bag on their couch, walking up to them with a bright smile that doesn’t match their vibe at all.

There’s tension in the air. A very thick and palpable tension and the three are exchanging glances and looks as if to say, ‘Go on. Go say hi to her first if she’s the girl you’ve been talking about.’

But you beat them to it. “Wow. I didn’t think you three knew each other!” you exclaim, skipping over to the dining corner where you find yourself in the gap between Sungchan and Seunghan. The two flinch at the closeness of your presence. Wonbin tightens his jaw. “Anyway, is Shotaro around? I need to talk to him about our trip this weekend, but he’s not replying.”

“He’s in his room. Upstairs. Fourth floor.” 

It’s not a competition, but hearing how quickly the response falls out of Wonbin’s lips sure does makes it seem like it is. Sungchan has his mouth open, gives Wonbin a look, before closing it again. Seunghan never even got the chance, and Sohee is looking at the scene unfold like it’s a goddamned trashy movie.

“Great, thanks!” you beam. “Oh, and we’re still up for dinner tonight, right?”

They can’t go for another speed contest because the question is reserved for one person only— Sungchan, who seems to be caught off guard. “Yeah. Absolutely,” he manages to squeeze out. You smile.

“Sweet. Wonbin, have you prepared the documents I asked for tomorrow’s meeting?”

It’s like a question carousel. “I’ll send them later for you to review.”

“Perfect! Right, and Seunghan—” There goes another rotation. “Mind driving me to the reunion this Friday? Jaeha bailed on me at the last minute, that son of a bitch.”

Seunghan blinks at you, in a daze. “Sure.”

“Nice! And you—”

Your attention lands on the last person at the table. Sungchan, Wonbin, and Seunghan didn’t expect you to even entertain him. “Sohee,” their friend fills in, a little taken aback. You flash him a bright grin.

“Sohee! Nice to meet you! Love your necklace. Very chic.”

For some reason the smile on Sohee’s face is annoying to the other three boys. “Thanks!” he says. “Have a nugget before you go.” They didn’t think it was possible, but somehow your face glows even brighter and you lean down, still between Seunghan and Sungchan, to pick up a piece from the box. 

“Thought you guys would never offer. Thank you! I’ll see you around!”

With that you disappear up the stairs, and you take all the noise and the life in the room with you. It’s quiet. So quiet— almost like there’s a standoff. That is until Sohee clears his throat, still pink from the compliment you gave him, and says, “Well. Seems like she’s the same person.” 

No fucking shit, she’s the same person. They can’t keep making excuses anymore. 

Seunghan tries to play it off with a laugh. “I can’t believe you guys would lie and joke about her having a crush on you.” His laugh isn’t well taken by the other two. It spirals down to shit all too quickly.

“What do you mean ‘lie’?” Wonbin narrows his eyes.

Sungchan hollers in. “Yeah, if anything, you’re the one that’s lying! You and him both!”

“Why would I lie?!” Seunghan protests.

“I don’t know— maybe because you’re jealous that she likes me and not either of you?”

Before they can start throwing fists, Sohee interrupts by making himself the collective target. “Have you guys considered,” he starts, hands solemnly pressed together above the crumb littered table. “That she might have a tinge of feelings for all three of you? Not just one?”

They pause in consideration. It takes them five seconds to brush him off.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“No way.”

“Why would she?”

Sohee sighs and gives up. He hears a set of footsteps rushing down and hopes it’s you, so that his three friends would finally quit it. It is you, and Sohee lifts up. Your timing is impeccable. He’s almost convinced you’ve been listening the whole time.

“Hey,” you greet them once again, flashing a smile once, before going off to retrieve your bag from the couch. The three quiet down instantaneously and have resigned to glaring at each other in seething silence. Seunghan isn’t very good at glaring at people, so he reorganizes his strategy instead.

“How’s the thing with Taro hyung?” he asks, twisting his chair to face you better. Sungchan and Wonbin give him a dirty look. That bastard. He’s even considering body language into play.

“Oh! The trip is canceled.” You sling your bag over your shoulder. “So my Sunday has been cleared. Do you guys want to make plans?”

Crap.

You just tossed them a bone.

Sohee is sure this isn’t gonna end pretty.

“Why don’t we go on a date?”

All eyes are wide. Their heads snap in the direction of Wonbin— the fast bastard. His expression is nonchalant, but his shaking knee from under the table says otherwise. “There’s a contemporary art exhibit opening downtown. Let’s check it out together,” This bitch, Sungchan’s expression seems to say. Seunghan’s disappointment seeps through the air.

“Like. A date, date?” you confirm, eyes batting expectantly, as if you have a barrier against the palpably sour and rotten mood flooding the room in ominous swirls.

“Yeah,” Wonbin confirms. He’s lucky you’re too far away to notice the sweat dripping down his neck. “Is...is that a problem? You said you liked me. Why don’t we give it a shot?”

All hell breaks loose the moment you entertain them with flustered cheeks and a shy smile.

“No! Don’t go!” Sungchan’s had it. He can’t take this anymore. “If there’s anyone you should be going out with, it should be me! You like me! Not them!”

Seunghan has left his seat and has scrambled over to you. Wonbin and Sungchan’s eyes widen. They aren’t letting him do this. They quickly follow suit but Seunghan already has a firm hold on your arms and is looking deep into your eyes. He’s put up an invisible barrier. Fuck, that sneaky bastard.

“Were you actually serious when you said that you had a crush on me since eleventh grade?” His voice cracks. If he’s trying to tap into your pity, then it’s definitely fucking working. “But why are these two saying you like them? What about us?! Am I nothing to y—”

Your index finger finds its way over Seunghan’s lips. Silence befalls. Your blank face settles into a sound smile.

“Well,” you pry Seunghan’s hands off you, still smiling pleasantly at all of them. What is this ominous feeling? Why doesn’t it seem like you’re actually smiling at them? “As far as I remember, none of you returned my confessions.”

It’s like a hammer hits all three of them at once.

“And I still like you Seunghan. We literally talked about it the other day.” You gave him a two word answer then brushed him off your essay. That was hardly a conversation. Seunghan feels wronged beyond words.

“How—how about me?”

You look over to Sungchan, who looks arguably like a kicked puppy. “What about you?”

“Well,” he clears his throat, a faint blush coating his ears. “Do you still, uh, have feelings for me too, or—”

“Sungchan, do you think I’d have kept asking you to have dinner alone with me every week if I didn’t like you?” He blinks. Beside him, Wonbin points a finger to himself. You let out a breath. “I’d be blind and tasteless if I wasn’t into you, Wonbin. Especially after working closely together since the beginning of the year. Why are you guys asking me this?”

Sohee has stopped liking all these ominous periods of silence because they’re signs that even more chaos is about to ensue. His three friends’ eyes look empty and hollow as they stare at you. Oh god, they’re far gone.

“So,” Wonbin starts.

“You like us,” Seunghan follows.

“Like all three of us,” Sungchan finishes. 

You give them a smile reminiscent of a kindergarten teacher feeling a swell of pride after her student finishes reciting the alphabet. Sohee feels sympathy pains for his friends. “Yup. I also have a crush on Johnny from med, but he’s graduating soon, so that’s a bummer. Oh! And our TA Jung Jaehyun! He has the face of a god!” Oh, dear. You stomp on them then finish it off with a spit on their faces. Sohee bites his lip, feeling both horrendously bad and curious as to how this shitshow will conclude. 

The three simmer in silence. You give them a raised brow.

“Why? Is there a problem?”

Oh, there’s a fucking problem, alright.

“Why are you guys looking at me like that? I did confess to all three of you saying I have a crush on you, but I never said I was in love with you.”

Well, damn.

Neither of them like you like that, but that shit hurt for no fucking reason.

“Don’t think too much of it, sillies! And I don’t get why you’re all so affected when you’re the ones who didn’t return my feelings.” 

Your laughter is poison and your smiling face is tearing them apart. You’re heartless. You’re a devil disguised as an angel. You’re from the deepest depths of hell and have come to earth for the sole reason of tooth-achingly sweet and strawberry scented torment. If they can fall to their knees right now, they would, but their pride is tattered enough already— ripped to shreds by your unapologetic bluntness and honesty.

“Anyway, since I already have plans with the three of you within the week, Sungchan’s later this evening—” The man in question is pouting. He’s pouting very hard when your eyes skip over him, and zones into the person that’s been quiet this entire time. “Sohee! Wanna go bowling with me and my bio friends this Sunday?”

That was a bomb. A large and dangerous bomb. “Sure?” Sohee responds unknowingly. You give them one last sweet smile of torture before finally leaving.

“Great! Get my number from any of them. I have to go meet some people. Later! Thanks for the snack!”

With that, you leave them behind, but not without a trace of disaster. Once they’ve confirmed you’re gone and out, signaved by the tight shutting of the door, Sungchan, Wonbin, and Seunghan look at each other. Then at Sohee. Then back at the closed door once more.

It’s quiet again. They don’t need to talk to settle with three mutual conclusions.

One. Sohee isn’t getting shit after the emotional massacre they went through. He can go crawl and scavenger for your number elsewhere for all they care.

Two. There’s no doubt. They all know you and you all know them. This is something they can’t ignore anymore, so they have to figure out how to behave in case a run in like this happens again,

And three—

You like them. All three of them. At the same time. 

Their pride can’t stand the idea of sharing that affection. Absolutely not. Therefore three must drop down to one. Sungchan, Wonbin, and Seunghan are dead set on making sure that that one is going to be him.

THREE'S A CROWD. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[mrsarcherofinfamy]

Hey, if you take requests, can you write Damian Priest x pregnant fem! Reader with the prompts: "mcDonald's is open, wanna go get some chicken nuggets?" "it's 3 in the morning." "and?" "let's go." and 23. "you seem like you want ice cream."?

McDonalds? At 3 AM?

• Damian Priest x pregnant fem! Reader

I hope you love it! 😊❤️

_________________________________________

Laying in bed with my head on Damian's shoulder and my baby belly kinda laying on him, I feel the baby kick and try to hold in my groan. Damian is sleeping with his arm around my neck. The baby kicks again and I slightly groan out loud because it was harder than the first one. Damian moves a little bit and I bite my lip trying to be quiet. He moves his head over to lay on top of mine.

"Babygirl, what's wrong?"

"The baby is kicking me really hard."

He slowly takes his arm out from behind my head and lays a fluffy pillow down for my head. He moves down and starts kissing my tummy. I roll onto my back to kinda get comfortable. He starts rubbing my tummy and I look down at him smiling.

"Baby boy, why are you hurting your mommy?"

I giggle and Damian looks up at me. He starts kissing my tummy again and the baby kicks him straight in his cheek. I giggle looking at him.

"Hey little man. Take it easy."

Damian crawls up and lays down next to me. I put my hand on his chest.

"Hey babe. Can we go get food? I'm so hungry."

He looks at me with a puzzled look on his face and looks at his watch.

"It is 3 in the morning."

"McDonalds is open, wanna go get chicken nuggets?"

"Again, it's 3 in the morning."

"Anndddd?"

He sighs looking at me. I look at him with a big smile on my face.

"Let's go."

He sits up and puts a white tank top on and some sweatpants. I grab one of his sweatshirts and put it on along with some sweatpants as well. He helps me down the stairs and to the car. He opens the passenger side door and helps me inside. He closes the door, runs over to the driver's side and gets in starting the car. We head off to McDonald's.

_________________________________________

We are waiting in a small line and I am looking at the sign with all the ice cream choices on it. Damian looks over at me.

"You sure you want chicken nuggets baby?"

"Yes I want chicken nuggets. Why?"

He points to the ice cream sign I was staring at.

"You seem like you want ice cream."

I smile really big and he let's out a little laugh.

"You can get both baby. Gotta keep you and the baby boy happy!"

He puts his hand on my thigh and pulls up to the speaker.

"Extra fudge on the sundae please!"

"Of course baby."

He orders the food and pulls up to the window paying for the food. The lady hands him my fudge sundae first with a spoon. I take it from him and start eating it. He takes the big bag of food from her and heads home. I continue eating my sundae while he drives.

_________________________________________

Pulling into the driveway, Damian looks over at me eating the last bit of fudge from the container.

"You ate all of it? Man, I wanted some."

I look over at him with the spoon in my mouth. He laughs, leans over and kisses my cheek. He gets out, walks around the car and opens the door for me. I slowly get out holding onto his hand also holding the bag of food. We walk inside and over to the living room setting the bag down on the coffee table. I slowly try to sit down on the couch. Damian comes over and holds my hands helping me sit down. He sits down next to me grabbing the bag of food and the TV remote.

"Anything you want to watch baby?"

"You can put on a movie please and thank you."

"Of course babygirl."

He turns on a movie for us to watch and I grab the chicken nuggets out of the bag. I grab the BBQ sauce and open it. I start eating and lay my head on Damian's shoulder. He moves and puts his arm around me putting his hand on my tummy rubbing it. I start falling asleep with the chicken nuggets on my lap.

"Baby?"

Damian looks down at me smiling. He slowly moves the chicken nuggets off of my lap and puts them on the table. He grabs a blanket and puts it over me making sure not to wake me up. He gets comfortable on the couch cuddling me and he begins to fall asleep as well......

The End

[taeiun]

this love is small.

synopsis: some of the little things that they do in your relationship

who: zb1 x gn!reader (not including yujin)

categories: fluff, some crack, headcanon styled scenarios

warnings: mentions of food in jiwoong + taerae's parts, light swearing

word count: 1.1k

✧ JIWOONG !

✧ jiwoong gains a newly formed sixth sense when it comes to your needs; he knows your favourite snacks by heart and also picks up if you guys are low on them without even looking at the cabinet.  you don’t even need to ask him to grab a snack for you because he’ll just know. probably knows when those foods are on sale before you even open your mouth to tell him. like, he’s probably already picked up three bags of those chips you really enjoyed last time and they’re waiting on the counter for you.

✧ will send you a notes app shopping list so that you don’t get jumped scared by the random appearance of shrimp chips and sour candies constantly and wonder how they got there half the time when you both haven’t even talked about being out of them.

✧ ZHANG HAO !

✧ hao keeps a collection of short, vlog-like recordings of the two of you in a private, for his eyes only folder on his phone. he watches these whenever he misses you or feels down and needs a pick me up. these videos will range from past dates, his commentary as he records you sleeping, to not even a two second moment of you laughing. you might find the angles unflattering, but he treasures each and everyone, watching them with a goofy ahah smile on his face.

✧ the others have 100% definitely, not even up for question, walked in on him in the middle of a watching session. he’ll just be sitting curled up in bed, blanket draped around him, with the lights turned off and earbuds plugged into his phone. this ends two ways. 1) the member leaves before he can notice and all is well or 2) they tease him only to end up with a pillow to the face

✧ HANBIN !

✧ whenever he’s on tour or can’t see you for long periods of time, hanbin will keep a list of things that happen throughout the days he’s gone to share with you. he never wants you to feel left out of his life and wants full communication with things. he can send you all the pictures you want of his travels, but nothing beats the actual stories.

✧ he mainly keeps tabs of things he did but will include the members’ shenanigans if he thinks they’ll make you laugh. starts a new list every time he has to leave and each one is dated, the activities labeled for what day and the time gone written at the top.

✧ MATTHEW !

✧ a big chatterbox when it comes to you, especially when it comes to his family. phone calls, messages, will even in emails to relatives, the conversation will drift to you no matter the topic. the only criteria needed for this to happen is for someone to simply breath in his direction.

✧ matthew pivots the conversation so fast that it gives his family whiplash. they aren’t complaining though; it’s nice to see him so happy and they can tell just how much he cares about your relationship. he wants them to love you as much as he does and by telling them these fond memories, he’s sure they will.

✧ TAERAE !

✧ the silly man he is, taerae will send you selfie updates throughout the day of where he is. you could probably make and sell your own bootleg, limited edition, taerae of zb1 pcs with how many you get from him. from walks to the company building to convenience store runs, he’s always sending you a picture of when he leaves to when he arrives at the destination as a way of assurance he’s safe.

✧ stores all of these in a folder labeled “for yn and yn only” and refuses to post them publicly, no matter how good you tell him some of them are. the background settings of his photos are always interesting. sometimes the members will be there, sometimes it’s while he’s in a storage closet. it’s funny until you wake up to find selfies of him at mcdonalds at 4 am with a handful of chicken nuggets shoved in his mouth.

✧ RICKY !

✧ spoils you so much. he knows that love doesn’t mean the amount of money you spend on someone but he can’t help but buy trinkets that remind him of you. the thought process is basically just: “oh. this kind of looks like yn.” and proceeds to checkout with a ditto keychain. ricky pays close attention to what type of accessories you tend to wear and prefer for this very reason. if your ears are pierced, you’ll find a new pair waiting for you on your desk that look eerily similar to his… like what? nooooo he totally didn’t go and buy subtle matching stuff pfttt nah- ok yes. please wear it; coordinate matching outfits with him.

✧ also, don’t bother asking for the prices of these things. he’ll never tell you because he knows that you’ll pay him back and he doesn’t want that. he doesn’t expect anything back and wants to make sure that you understand that he wants to do these things. you also probably won’t want to know because oof scary.

✧ GYUVIN !

✧ omfg he will abuse voice memo privileges to hell and back in order to let you in on dumb jokes and random thoughts. gyuvin constantly has his phone close within his reach just because of this so that he never misses the chance to blow your mind with… whatever falls from his mouth. even when in bed. the voice memos range from “i love you so much i don’t know what i’d do without you” to “did you know you are always within three meters of a spider?”. you never know if you’ll be swooning or sleeping with one eye open with these.

✧ the worst ones come at night for sure; he’ll wake up suddenly, blindly search for his phone, string together a weird ass sentence that only he’d be able to decipher, send it, then knock himself out again and sleep without remorse for his actions. he should be paying for your icloud with how much storage he clogs with those messages.

✧ GUNWOOK !

✧ he’s classically cheesy in a way and sends you screenshotted song lyrics that describe his feelings or remind him of you. “#LiterallyUs” and it’s paper rings by taylor swift. can be unserious about it though. one time, you couldn’t hang out with him because of exams and he responded with “tell me why / ain’t nothin but a heartache”.

✧ there are times where gunwook will not only send the lyrics, but also a clip of him singing that certain part of the song. he mainly sends these versions at night from the bathroom, and you wonder how none of the others have stormed into the room and told him to shut up.

^ . _ . ^ !? told myself to take it easy and not post again this week but um... this is a heavily edited fic from my old blog @/luvjiun that ive been meaning to repost. hehe ok junjun out >_&lt;

© taeiun 2023. all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim any of my writing as yours.

[crazymadpassionatelove]

Cool Girl

Notes: None of this would be possible without my dearest darlings @ab4eva and @precious-little-scoundrel! All the hugs and kisses to you both xo

Part 2

-

Here's the thing nobody ever admits about being the other half of a celebrity: it's actually as hard or as easy as you make it. Enter hunky, gifted actor who just happens to be hung like a horse? Well, being his lady isn't hard at all. You just have to know the rules. Number one, you can't hear the noise. Not literally, you can hear it. You must strive to live in such a bubble that none of it matters though. You shop, power walk your gated community, and take cock like it's the only job you have. Truly, it is. Pleasing him is of utmost importance. Be ready to hop a plane at a moment’s notice, or even get fucked on said plane. You're so busy spending your man’s cash snapping up authentic mid-century modern homes before certain celebrities turn them into minimalist gray prisons, raising money for dogs who need prosthetics, and trying your hand at that sourdough bread craze, you really don't even have time to see the Instagram hate being spewed your way 24/7.

Number two, remaining an enigma. Selling energy drinks on social media? Having your man pay off some fast fashion brand to “partner” with you for a collection? Appearing on some campy sitcom as a guest star? Not for you, the thought of it actually makes you recoil. You're too busy doing all the little things and making his once barely furnished house a home. Homemade chocolate chip cookies with the chocolate specially flown in from Belgium on his private plane? Check! Gold vintage jewelry via that cute little flea market in Paris is clanking as you insist on being the ones to change the bedroom sheets. A housekeeper comes once a month, and even she comments coyly about your chemistry. Still, she need not see the soaked sheets from the multiple round of lovemaking the two of you do at all hours of the day and night.

Being seen on the red carpet is not your cup of tea, but it's the equivalent of attending your man's office Christmas party. So you pick out a dress, aka one of the couture houses offers to dress you, and he flies you to Paris for multiple fittings and macarons. Then there's some vintage Van Cleef jewelry that appears on the dining room table one morning, and a fresh new pair of Louboutins is the final piece to the puzzle. Then, looking very demur and shy, you appear on his arm, clinging to it actually. You'll smile at the various television hosts and press. Speak softly, and practically defer to him for all questions. He's the star, you're just a great supporting act. Then, when the night is finally done, you both breathe a sigh of relief and he thanks you for being such a good sport. How about a McDonald's drive thru run, huh? That face, oh that handsome fucking face of his that you've been dying to kiss all night. He just always knows what to say. So that's how you're papped still in your couture gown, he in a wrinkled white button down, his jacket slid around your shoulders, feeding each other French fries and chicken nuggets, splitting a milkshake. How wholesome and Americana honestly.

That night he promises to thank you again. Austin's perfect lips wrap themselves around your puffy clit as two, then three fingers curl, shove, and squelch inside you. “You were such a good girl the whole night, baby.” There's something about being called a good girl that makes you absolutely feral. He brings you to orgasm over and over, you lose count after about 7. He's just getting started though. He hasn't even slipped inside. When he does though, it's rough. The glorious slapping sounds of flesh fill the room as he brings himself to the edge over and over, denying himself a release and giving you an additional, what three or four orgasms? You've left feral behind and have crossed over into absolute animalistic filth as you bury yourself in the goose down pillows and practically shove it in your mouth howling. Letting him have his way as you throb and clench, hot and pink with almost blurred vision as he talks you through it. Peppering the conversation with lots of “that's my girl, my pretty baby cums so damn pretty”. When you think you're in need of a paramedic, he blows inside you something reminiscent of Niagara falls. He knows how much you love a vocal man. You end the night not being able to feel your limbs or do anything beyond closing your eyes with a lazy, bashful grin. He gives you one last slap to the ass then mentions as you drift off, “Could you make some of those brownies of yours for the cast and crew tomorrow?”

The third rule of being the other half to everyone's favorite blue eyed baby boy actor? Less is more. This sort of goes hand in hand with the enigma rule. Those celebrities who traipse around in loud designer clothing and accessories covered in flashy logos? That's not you or your man for that matter. Sure you have handbags that cost more than some people's cars, but they are solid authentic leather bags your guy finds you in far flung corners when he's on location. No one really notices when you're papped and printed in People Magazine. You keep your head down in aviators he takes to wearing, a nice little subtle nod. The bands you each wear on that finger are a solid Welsh gold. Whenever his slightly deranged fans see you, the one thing they can't call you is a golddigger. You drive a jeep or even that old Ford truck he restored himself, no Lamborghinis in your garage.

Part of the less is more shtick though is being able to give a cute little nod to him here and there when appropriate. When he's cast in a certain biopic that alters his career and your lives? You sit tight and let him have his moment, after all, you know all the behind the scenes work that goes into it. The blood, sweat, and tears. There are times when he takes method acting to such a level that it's almost like going to bed with another man. You can't exactly complain though. The slight drawl that appears when he says your name is something he is never able to truly shake and you're glad. When the moment is right though, you post a tongue in cheek Instagram post. Your feed is normally bogged down with pictures of the pets, your baking, and various charities you support. This time though, you post a rare photo of yourself looking like you're a certain sort of American royalty stepped from a time machine. It's a candid shot with you at his feet. Worshiping. Except now it's sort of like you worship two men. It's fairly well received, friends tell you, though there will always be hate. Remember, you can't hear the noise. You certainly can't hear the noise women old enough to be your grandmother are making as they lust over the man who's cock you gag on every night.

Those utterly delectable fingers of his snake inside you, make you hiss and come undone as that tongue in cheek sort of throw back makeup you're sporting runs down your cheeks. “Who's my pretty girl?” He teases you. A good hour later when he finally allows himself his own release he's panting your name into your ear. He settles himself in between your breasts. Didn't his agent once mention the girls on Tumblr call him baby boy? If only they could catch a glimpse of him now. Murmuring against your skin and tracing what feels like hearts on your arms. You scroll Zillow and read out the six-figure price tags on castles in Ireland. How does fucking in a dungeon sound, honey?

Rule number four? Be ready to go to bat for him at any moment, others opinions be damned. Being Austin's other half brings out a protective streak in you. A maternal bodyguard quasi agent of sorts. Always keep your eyes peeled for the photogs, especially when he's indulging in that pesky little smoking habit he doesn't exactly like to advertise. That actual management team of his isn't bad, especially once the Elvis flick is underway and you learn just exactly how bad certain managers can be. Still, nobody has his best interests at heart the way you do. Keep his favorite snacks on hand in your purse, water ready at a moment's notice. Your boy has a tendency to work himself to the bone and you certainly cannot allow him to run himself ragged. Tea with hot honey every night was a must while he immersed himself in Elvis. Be his soft place, let him cry and vent while you run your fingers through those golden locks. Take whatever you can off his plate so he can dedicate himself to his craft.

Some wonder if you've lost yourself in him and his life, but it's the exact opposite. You've found yourself. When that angel boy praises you during press tours and jokes on talk shows about you flying out in the middle of the night to see to it his shirts are starched the way he likes and he eats breakfast, well you just sit there and smile. “I couldn't be me without her.” Those words make you melt and you immediately crave the feeling of his hot cream inside you. Playing Elvis brought out a side of him that never truly leaves once filming wraps. Stressed? Tired? Enamored? Him bending you over while you're brushing your teeth becomes a common occurrence. “That's my baby – take it, take it,” you've gotta talk it all out of him sometimes and that's fine with you. You stand in the wings of the Kelly Ripa show and try in vain to hide your red face when a PA offers you a napkin. “I think you spilled something down your leg,” the young girl offers. Something spilled all right, him inside you with his hands gripping your hair just minutes before he was due on stage.

Everything is just so right, it's only natural that cool girl very quickly becomes cool wife.

-

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 1)

Summary: After one of the reader's last concerts of the year, she unexpectedly runs into notorious playboy Dean Winchester, quarterback of the LA Wolves. Only Dean's a big fan and he seems to want more than just a photo if given the chance...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 4,400ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping

A/N: I promise there'll be more Dean and reader interacting in person next part! Needed to set the scene with this!

_________

You groaned the second you were alone. You’d survived the summer tour but you were exhausted. All you wanted was a greasy hamburger, chicken nuggets, and to sleep for a month. After changing into a pair of joggers and oversized hoodie, you texted your bodyguard Eric, telling him you wanted to get out of there quietly. He knocked twice on your dressing room door before entering with a smile.

“Great show tonight,” he said. You rolled your eyes, Eric grabbing your backpack for you. 

“Like you pay attention to anything besides harassing the security team,” you said, resting your forehead against his strong chest. “I never want to tour again. I’m so tired.”

“You’re just cranky cause you’re hungry and need sleep,” he said rubbing your back. “You only have two more shows this year and then we can sit on the couch eating cookies and binging divorce court.”

“This is why I keep you around, buddy,” you laughed, taking a deep breathe before looking up. “Speaking of food-“

“Let’s get you out of here and full of some chicken nuggies.”

“Back in five,” you said to Eric thirty minutes later, your wallet in hand and panic button in your pocket. He let you go out without it sometimes but not after a show and especially not when you were in the press so much lately. 

It was nearly midnight as you walked into the nearly empty McDonald’s, a guy in a hoodie at the counter with his back to you. 

“Hi,” you said, stepping up to the other register. “Can I get a quarter pounder with cheese, a medium fry and a twenty piece chicken nugget with barbecue sauce? Oh and a bottle of water.”

You paid, the girl behind the counter staring at you like she recognized you but was too nervous to say anything.

“Holy shit,” said a male voice. You glanced left, the man in the hoodie pushing it down to reveal him in a black baseball cap. He was incredibly handsome and had such pretty green eyes. Something seemed vaguely familiar about him but you couldn’t place it. “You’re Y/N Y/L/N…and apparently you eat like a linebacker.”

“Dance on stage for three hours every night and you would too,” you said, the man humming.

“Do you mind if I get a pic?” he asked. 

“Sure,” you said, the man handing his phone to the girl behind the counter who eagerly took a few. He was practically giddy when he got his phone back, a bag of food coming out for him.

“Thanks for indulging me,” he said. You noticed a few strands of confetti on top of his hat and smiled. He must have been at the concert. He almost walked away and out the door when he spun around, parting his lips. “Can I give you my number?”

“Sure,” you said again. It was much safer to just take the number and hand it off to Eric to do a background check on the person than try a rejection. The man scribbled it down on the back of your receipt, your cashier now acting as his wing woman and making sure he had a pen.

“I uh, hope to hear from you soon,” he said, flashing you a wink before leaving. You eased when he was gone, the girl at the counter handing you your bag of food after a moment. 

“He’s so hot, isn’t he?” she said, your eyebrows raising. Not the reaction you were expecting from her.

“Mhm. Thanks for the food. Have a good night,” you said, quickly leaving. You ducked outside, Eric waiting in the backseat for you. 

“Any trouble?” he asked, nodding to the man farther down the parking lot, slipping into a large SUV.

“Just a fan,” you said, handing him the paper with the guys number. He gave you a side eye as he took it from your fingers. “He was harmless.”

“I’ll check it out to be sure,” he grumbled, stealing a fry from your bag. “Did you get me-“

“Yes I got you your nuggets,” you said, Eric relaxing back into his seat. Your driver headed for home and in twenty minutes you were on your couch chowing down. Eric was at the kitchen counter, lazily scrolling through his phone, probably grateful that you were secure in the house for the night.

You watch his eyes go wide, gaze shooting to you.

“I swear I didn’t do anything.” You kept eating your burger, Eric silently watching you. “Dude, you’re freaking me out.”

“That fan from McDonald’s posted the pic of you,” he said. You rolled your eyes and got up, sulking over to him.

“Oh tell me he’s not some whack job.”

“He’s Dean Winchester,” he said, showing his phone to you. You shrugged, walking back to the couch. “Dean Winchester? NFL quarterback? Three time Super Bowl winner?”

You stared at him, Eric groaning. 

“He’s the quarterback for the LA Wolves…he went to Kansas State the same time you did, Y/N. You probably went to his football games.” He rolled his eyes at you. “How do you not realize you’re taking a picture with a sports legend?”

“I must have missed it with all my free time over the past dozen years with all the touring and ten albums and other shit in my life. And frankly you’re the one that told me it doesn’t matter who it is, I need to be careful of everyone, whether they’re famous or not.” He sighed, putting his phone away.

“Alright, I get your point,” he said, returning to eating. “Dude’s kind of a player anyways it seems like. Nice guy but I know you’re more the sensitive guy type.”

“Emotionally available,” you corrected, plopping down on the couch once more. “Why would you think he’s into me anyways? Plenty of people are fans without wanting to get in my pants.”

“Well, it’s Dean Winchester so he definitely wants in your pants,” he joked. “Also the caption, genius.” 

You quirked your eyebrow, Eric tossing his phone over to you. You pouted when you went back to the post, actually reading it this time.

DWinchester67 Y/N Y/L/N Saturday Night Concert at the Wolves stadium. AMAZING TIME with the crew. Worth getting ragged on by the boys all week for taking them to the show just to see them belt their hearts out to #FinishLine (video soon)

Then had the awesome luck to snag a pic with Y/N grabbing a midnight snack. I was dying on the inside at meeting my crush. Sorry for being awkward when you were trying to get your grub on. Next time it’s on me ;)

Your eyes met Eric’s when you finished, his chicken nuggets nearly gone. 

“Yeah, like no reason he’s into you, right?” smirked Eric. You grumbled, returning to your late night dinner. “I’ll background check that number in the morning.”

“He’s a player that wants to have sex. Don’t bother with the background work. He’s harmless.”

“As you wish, princess,” he said with a little bow, earning himself being hit in the face with your balled up burger wrapper. “The abuse I put up with. Tsk tsk.”

“Yeah, yeah. Tell that to your generous benefits package,” you said, Eric chuckling as he double checked the back doors were locked one last time. “Eric…”

“Mhm,” he hummed, ruffling your head gently as he walked past the back of the couch. “See you in the morning, kiddo.”

“Night. Oh!” you said, sitting up on your knees on the couch, Eric throwing his head back. “It’s nothing bad! Just…can you ban everyone from the house until ten? I really want to sleep in and try to catch up.”

“You want me to fend off your team? After Dean Winchester posted that? What do I get out of this?” he teased, crossing his arms. You batted your eyes, jutting out your lip. “You got to do better than that.”

“I’ll buy you box seats to an LA Wolves game of your choice?” He looked blank faced which meant he was really tempted to take the offer. But Eric didn’t like extravagant gifts from you for doing his job. He already said his paycheck was more than enough and he barely accepted the Christmas and birthday presents you’d get for him.

You held up a finger, Eric calculating the move.

“Give me one good reason for not accepting.”

“First off, it’s too much. Second, I’m your primary protection agent and need to be available-”

“Please Eric? They’re going to be vultures in the morning with that whole post and you haven’t had a day off in six months. You’re as exhausted as I am. I’m asking as your friend, not your boss.” He grumbled, shaking his head. “Is that a yes?”

“It means I’ll think about it and I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “We’re going to watch football all day. I’ll teach you all about it.”

You growled, Eric snickering the whole way out.

Dean POV

The first game of the season was always a good one. The team was healthy. We had home field advantage for once. 

And I really enjoyed the hell out of playing football in a packed stadium. It wasn’t an ego thing like for some people. No, I loved putting on a show and entertaining people for a few hours a week, give them a fun escape before they had to return to the reality of their lives.

That’s what football had always been to me and I knew for most fans, it gave them that same sense of belonging.

And women tended to really like seeing a bunch of muscular men run around in tight pants.

“Winchester, surprised you’re here,” said Michael. I glanced over my shoulder in the locker room, a big smirk on his face. “I thought you’d be in the burn unit with how hard you crashed and burned with Y/N Y/L/N last night.”

I rolled my eyes at the taunts of the room, ignoring them as they riffed on me for a good ten minutes. When Benny walked in though they finally calmed down, Ben taking a seat in his cubby beside me.

“Let me have it,” I sighed. Benny leaned in close, covering his mouth from the rest of the room.

“If you really want that girl to go out with you, you got to do more than make an insta post. She’s classy. She’s not going to fawn over you like every dipshit you’ve dated because you’re good looking. So you better impress her.” He gave me one last look before reaching down to his duffel and pulling out his cleats.

He had a point. Y/N had never cared for cocky flirts. I could remember her in college, always spending time at parties with the shy academic guys that chatted her ear off about music theory and english papers. I swear the only time she gave a single jock attention was when she’d grab a guitar in the late hours of the night and sing a song none of us had heard before. She could stop a group of drunken college students in their tracks with a single note. Nowadays her music was all pop but back then, just her and a guitar…I’d have sworn an angel fell out of the sky straight in front of me.

No woman had made my heart swell up with comfort and longing the way she had the night I laid eyes on her for the first time. 

The years had done little to diminish a teenage boy’s crush. If anything, seeing her last night, getting to talk to her for even a brief moment, made my insides burn hotter than before. Maybe it was only a crush, an infatuation with a beautiful woman with an even more beautiful voice.

I felt Benny’s stare on me as I lazily watched my feet before me.

“You’re still in love with her.” He said it as a statement so I didn’t respond. I’d never claimed such a thing despite Benny insisting on it back in college. But he’d always been good at sensing those kinds of things.

Or at least he wasn’t afraid to say it out loud.

“I talked to her in english lit once, about you.” My head snapped up, eyes wide as he was now down to his boxer briefs, tugging up his pants. “She heard what happened to Sam.”

“Why are you bringing up Sam?” I whispered, giving him a hard glare. Benny smiled, curious since he knew not to bring him up unless I did. “Half the school offered their condolences. Of course she-”

“She didn’t. She offered…hope. Apparently her little brother went missing once too.” I turned my head away. 

“Everyone who knows anything about Y/N Y/L/N heard that story. Congrats. We both have little brothers that were kidnapped and never heard from again. Fucking awesome we can share that trauma,” I spit out. Benny leaned in close, gripping my shoulder.

“She wrote a song for her brother. Finish Line. She showed it to me long before she got famous. Look up who it’s fucking dedicated to and maybe realize there is a deeper reason why you fell in love at first sight with that girl. I have a feeling she’s the only girl in the world that could get you and you knew it long before your head did.”

I was seething, storming out of the locker room and into a trainers room next door, quickly shutting the door behind me. What the fuck was Benny thinking bringing Sam up right before a game? I could handle thinking about a girl but Sam?

I angrily typed Finish Line dedication into google, freezing at the short paragraph that appeared as the top result.

Chart topper Finish Line by Y/N Y/L/N was notoriously written by Y/L/N in her senior year of highschool after the disappearance of her younger brother, Max. Max is presumed to have been abducted while walking home from a friends house. The music video of Finish Line states the song is “For Max & Sam” although Y/L/N has never stated who Sam is. Fans theorize “Sam” is a representation of all abduction victims however…

I immediately tapped on the youtube video of the song, scrolling all the way to the end, bottom lip wobbling as I read the stark white letters against the black background.

She never gave me the time of day back then yet she knew who I was, what it felt like to have a piece of you go missing and you couldn’t do anything about it. She put my baby brother in a song for her baby brother and we weren’t even friends.

I swallowed thickly, forcing myself to calm down. 

“Sammy,” I whispered, closing my eyes. “Is this a sign or something? Is she as fucked up as I am and the world doesn’t know it? Is that why she’s never been seen with a boyfriend her whole career? Did she shy away from connections when I buried myself in meaningless ones? Are we both so screwed up on the biggest stage in the world and that’s why I still feel breathless when I see her? Tell me I’m not crazy, Sammy. Tell me there’s a reason I’m still head over heels for this girl.”

I slowly opened my eyelids, staring at coach who was staring back at me on the other side of the room by the far entrance. I quickly cleared my throat and turned to leave, coach’s whistle stopping me in my tracks.

“I don’t know who the hell you’re talking about son, but my advice as someone who’s been married longer than you’ve been alive…you know when you fall in love. That’s the easy part. Admitting it and trying to get the balls to say it to her face is the harder part.”

“Sir, she doesn’t even know I exist. Or barely knows I do,” I said quietly. “I should-”

“Your little brother, god rest his soul, wants you to be happy, Winchester. So shoot your shot with this girl so you can stop having an existential crisis before my home opener, got it?” I glanced over my shoulder, coach’s face surprisingly soft for how close we were to game time. “She must be special to tame you.”

“She had me the whole time. The rest were me trying to forget.” He nodded, picking up his playbook again.

“Then go get this girl so you have your answer,” he said. “And stay out of my training room before games. Only place they can’t find me.”

“Yes sir.” I ducked back into the locker room, Benny gave me a raised eyebrow, silently asking if I was okay. I nodded and sat down to tie up my shoes, an idea sparking in my mind before I opened instagram. “Ben, take a picture of me.”

“Good god,” groaned Michael from my other side. “Like your insta doesn’t have enough shirtless selfies.”

He snagged my phone out of my hands, sighing as he took a photo of me smirking in my cubby.

“I regret being your friend,” he said, handing it back to me while Benny chuckled. 

“Same, Michael,” I smiled back before I was on insta and typing furiously. I posted before I could stop myself, Benny and Michael sharing a look and immediately going to their own phones. But they weren’t fast enough apparently.

“Winchester are you serious?” shouted Gabe from across the room, the whole team looking at their phones now.

“Yup,” I said, standing and tugging on my under armor v-neck, my shoulder pads and then my jersey. 

“You can’t force a girl to go out with you!” he shouted. 

“I’m not forcing. I’m offering a donation to her charity if she does feel inclined to go out with me,” I said with a shrug. Benny grabbed my shoulders, looking at me like I was crazy.

“Five million dollars? That’s not what I mean when I said impress her you idiot!” he said.

“That’s what the picture was for,” I said with a wink, my phone already buzzing non-stop at the incoming flood of texts and calls. “You think she’ll take me up on my offer?”

“This fucker’s really about to get a fucking date with Y/N Y/L/N through a fucking bribe,” said Michael, shaking his head. “Dude, you’re crushing so hard it’s in psycho territory.”

“One date is all I want,” I said, smiling when coach walked in, rolling his eyes at me. “Come on boys, time to focus on the game!”

Y/N POV

I was currently hiding in my bedroom, reading a book on Sunday evening, Eric doing his best to get my agent and manager and PR head out of the house without force. As expected, they’d reemed my ass out for not capitalizing on the Dean Winchester picture in the moment but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about hanging out with pretty fuck boys for publicity’s sake.

But I had followed him on my private account no one knew about. It’d taken a moment but I remembered who Dean Winchester was in our college days. He was flirty back then I remembered. And a good football player I guess. But I just remembered what happened in the spring semester, how the whole campus knew his pain before he had a chance to even process it.

My heart ached for a boy I’d said nothing more than a passing hello to at parties. 

I still felt that ache whenever I sang Finish Line. I’d never realized Dean went on to his own version of fame all those years ago. But I knew the hurt still existed in his heart. There was no healing it but some part of me wished I could soothe it for a moment. I forgot in the music sometimes. Maybe he could do the same when he played his games.

Maybe I really should have talked to him last night.

My phone buzzed and I saw a new post, this one of him making my jaw drop. “Hot damn you are good looking, Winchester.”

Then I shrieked when I looked at the caption.

DWinchester67 Hey @Y/NY/L/N it was fun running into you last night. How about you take me up on my offer and let me buy dinner for our first date? 

Oh and to sweeten the deal, I’ll donate five million dollars to your charity if you say yes (plus another million for each touchdown I throw tonight, those are freebies for ya). 

You got my number so waiting on you sweetheart. ;)

Eric was in the room before I could raise my head, eyes darting around the room before he determined there was no threat. 

“Jesus, girl. I swear if you saw a bug-”

“Dean Winchester asked me out. Publicly.” Eric narrowed his eyes as he tucked his gun back into the holster. 

“Okay…you made it clear to the team today you don’t want anything to do with a publicity stunt. What’s the problem?” You tossed the phone to the end of the bed, Eric sitting on the bench at the bottom to pick it up. He did a double take, eyes skirting to meet yours. “I’m doing a full background check on this man. He either really wants in your pants, to profit off you or he’s obsessive. To be honest, I don’t like any of those options.”

“Me either but five million dollars to the charity? Plus more? That could help kids, Eric. We could find a safe way to do this, right?” He pursed his lips, nodding once.

“One date at a place of my choosing. My team will be there in the background and I’m going to talk to this boy and let him know all of the ways I can kill him if he tries anything.” You smiled, Eric handing the phone back. 

“You’d kill your favorite football player for me. You’re too sweet Eric,” you chuckled. He stood up, adjusting his sports blazer.

“You know why I stuck with you when my agency assigned me to the Princess?” he asked, a dry laugh leaving his lips. “You always listened to me. You didn’t always agree but you listened and we could have conversations. We could have conversations about safety without you acting like a brat or me like an asshole. You respected me and that earned you loyalty all these years later.”

You stared your hands in your lap. “My parents lost one child. I don’t want them to lose another.”

You were surprised to find him come closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, turning to face you. He tucked your hair behind your ear, smiling softly. 

“Don’t lose hope now, kiddo. I’ve always admired that about you.” You looked away, Eric stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Someday we’ll find the truth. I promise.”

“My mom wishes it were me,” you said, shaking your head. “If I didn’t make my parents so much money I’d think they’d be plenty happy to let some crazy fan take me away forever. All because I was five minutes late to pick up Max and he decided to walk home.”

“Hey!” Eric gripped your shoulders hard, hard enough that you felt the strength of his hands down in your bones. He was always so gentle you with guiding touches here and there you often forgot he was as deadly with his hands as he was a weapon. 

You met his gaze, Eric sighing.

“That is not true and you know it.” His stern expression softened when you shook your head.

“She told me the day we had a funeral for him Max should have been there and I should have been the one missing. So I know, Eric.” He pulled you into a hug, letting you squeeze him tight.

“I know she did,” he whispered, your chin resting on his shoulder. “She has so many regrets from that time and knows what she said broke something with the two of you. But I have had countless conversations with them over the years. I know you trust me so trust me when I say, you are their world and it would destroy them to lose you. She always asks me if you’re happy because she says you put on your fake smile for her. She doesn’t blame you one bit for it.”

“I hate when you have points,” you said, closing your eyes, getting another squeeze from him. 

“Happy to help my buddy. So you don’t give up on Max yet, alright? Everyone else has. If he’s out there, he needs you to keep going for him.”

“No wonder your team adores you. Soft cuddly bear under all the threats of violence aren’t you?”

“It’s how I land so many chicks,” he chuckled. He kissed your temple and stood, cracking his back. “Respond back yes if you want to. Let me look into this Dean Winchester before you agree to anything else though.”

You hummed, clearing your throat when Eric was in the doorframe. “I-I do remember one thing about Dean in college. He had a younger brother Sam that went missing too. Never found him.”

Eric kept his back to you for a beat, nodding once. 

“Do you think Dean is a bad guy?”

“Gut check says no. Probably just wants a hookup,” he said before stepping out and pulling the door shut fast behind him. “Rowan, I swear to god you bother this girl tonight and I’ll shove my glock up your ass.”

“He asked her out! I need to talk to her!” he yelled back on the other side of the door. You sighed and put on your noise canceling headphones before going to instagram and tapping on his post. 

Y/NY/L/N @DWinchester67 One date. As friends Winchester

Not five seconds later you received a winking emoji and “friends” in response. 

“Dear god, you’re going to be a handful, Winchester.”

________

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[icarusredwings]

The Master does things in 4s.

A headcanon.

"Elaborate"

Oh, I will.

Tapping, knocking, steps, snacks, kisses, etc.

He's spent the last thousands of years with this beat in his head so subconsciously He's picked up some bad habits that revolve around it.

In this essay I will be-

I can argue that Simm is the worst off and that the poor guy is constantly having fits about things not being in 4s. The prime minister demands that all of his meals be in 4s. Theres only three pieces of chicken? No. He wants 4.

He doesn't sleep unless it's 4,8, or 12 hours, no in between, and gets upset if woken up at 6 or 10 hours. We already know about the tapping, but it's how he knocks on doors, how many steps he takes at a time, how he eats his snacks in rations of 4 8 12 16.

You can give him 16 chicken nuggets, but dont you DARE give him 17. He's actively flipped tables before because of this, and if he really is tired or masking, he will only eat the even number and throw the odd one at someone.

Dhawan snaps and claps in sets of 4. He humms it sometimes on beat to self soothe. His hands flap when he can't have something in 4s and religiously gives everyone 4 ice cubes in their tea. The tea gets steeped for 4 minutes or 8 minutes. He'll explode if you ask yours to be steeped for 5 6 or 7. He also has 4 books on the bedside and 8 by his desk.

Missy likes to hear her heels click 4 times as she walks and will purposly take smaller steps just so she can land on a multiple of 4. 4 tea sandwitches, 4 types of lip stick, 4 pieces of jewlery.

She even swings her umbrella 4 times when bored. Hers is a lot more tamer compared to the boys because women with these disorders often are less "hyperactive" and less likely to make a scene than men are. (Statistically)

Hell, even Sax subconsciously has an issue with it while living with 14. He applies his eyeliner twice on each eye to make 4. He forces 14 to kiss him in sets of 4, he constantly is arranging the pillows on the bed to only he 4 of them, and well- theres something else with 14 but im going to keep this post PG 13.

Now he can have 2 of things instead of 4, but some things (that don't hurt anyone) are still allowed to be 4s OR more. For example, the pillows on the bed, kisses, and ice cubes in his tea. He can now handle there being 6 pillows instead of 4, receiving a multiple of 2 kisses (10/16) instead of 4s(8/12). You have to have it on an even number, though, or he'll force another.

He doesn't know why. He just DOES. And he won't tell you "because of the beating" because to him, it's all done unconsiously-

"There needs to be 4 pillows."

"Why?"

"I- Look, I don't know, okay!? There just needs to be 4 pillows!"

But anyone with half of a brain cell (who knows about the drums) does. 14 knows and is slowly trying to get him away from emotional disregulation because of it by working towards sets of 2s instead. It's a lot more socially acceptable for sets of 2s to be done than 4s. Even regular humans want packs of 2 or dishes that comes with 2 of something, so it's a lot easier and less stressful for both the Master and everyone around him.

Now he doesn't cause a scene at McDonald's if there's a ton of ice cubes in his drink instead of 4. Thank god he doesn't count his food much anymore, either. It's why he's been able to put on a bit of weight. But still, if you give him 17 nuggets, you're getting one thrown at your head. (So 14 goes out of his way to give him an 18th)

Thanks for coming to my TED talk

[d3adp00ls]

Omg what if Vanessa x reader where they are married and they have a nice slow day where they are on ther periods or something and are super clingy and touchy and make cake or something

Heart To Heart

Vanessa (fnaf movie) x reader

Summary: See request

Contents: Pure fluff like seriously I’m single and writing this shit made me feel lonely, periods, so that means talk of blood, Vanessa is literally me in the beginning, food fights, attempt at baking, tickle fight, kisses, i want someone like this.

Word count: Go to McDonalds and ask for a double quarter pounder with fries and chicken nuggets with bbq sauce, the cashier should then tell you what the word count is.

side note: I got carried away ngl and now it’s less of a period fic than it is just a goofy fluff fic and I’m sorry about that anon 😅if you don’t like this one feel free to request another period fic and I can definitely try again. ALSO, I WAS LISTENING TO HEART TO HEART BY MAC DEMARCO ON REPEAT WHILE WRITING THIS, AND ISTG THAT SONG MAKES ME FEEL THINGS!!

Side note #2: I hate cake…I STILL WROTE ABOUT CAKE THO CUZ I KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT (kudos to my older sister for teaching me when I was younger)…but I hate it it tastes like dirt with frosting on it I never liked it. ALSO AS YOU CAN SEE HOW USED MY BIG BRAIN AND REALIZED I COULD NAME THE STORY AFTER THE SONG I PLAYED ON REPEAT LIKE A GENIUS.

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The warm sunlight poured in through the windows, casting a gentle glow over you and Vanessa as you snuggled in your shared bed. Your bodies were entwined beneath the soft covers, and as the light stirred you awake, you nuzzled your face into Vanessa's chest. She responded by pulling you closer and resting her head on top of yours. Just as you were about to drift back to sleep, a loud noise jolted you both awake. With puzzled expressions, you sat up and looked at the bedside table where the noise was coming from.

"Did you forget to turn off your alarm?" you asked, watching as Vanessa reached over to turn it off.

"I must have," she groaned, hitting the alarm button to silence it.

You got out of bed, ready to start your day. Vanessa watched as you gathered a towel, one of her oversized shirts, and some comfortable clothing before she spoke up.

"Where are you going?" she asked, still sounding sleepy.

"I'm going to freshen up, I feel like I've bled all over the sheets," you replied, your voice slightly hoarse from just waking up.

Vanessa hummed in response, rearranging the sheets you had been lying on. She looked up at you with a concerned expression.

"There's no blood, my love," she reassured you, causing you to smile at her thoughtfulness.

"Still, I think it would be best if I shower now," you said with a hint of amusement. Vanessa moved to sit on your side of the bed and reached out for you to come closer.

"Please, can you stay in bed a little longer? If you happen to bleed, I'll clean it up," she pleaded, her voice still muffled from burying her face in your stomach.

"I don't want to get up right now," she whined, and you couldn't help but giggle at her adorable pout.

"It's already 12 pm, love. We've already missed half the day," you reminded her, causing her to groan.

"So what? We've worked hard all week, we deserve these few days off," she argued, crossing her arms and looking at you with a defeated expression.

"That's true," you agreed with a soft smile. You took a step back, causing her to let go of you, and she pouted even more.

"But you know what else is fun to do when we're both on our monthly cycle?" you asked, a mischievous glint in your eye.

"What?" Vanessa grunted, her arms still crossed.

"Taking a shower and baking a cake with the person you love most," you said, watching as her eyes widened in surprise.

"But if you'd rather stay in bed all day, that's fine too," you added with a shrug, before turning and walking towards the bathroom. You could hear Vanessa rustling around in the bedroom before she ran after you with a cheeky smile.

"I thought you wanted to sleep in," you teased, looking at her playfully as you took off your shirt.

"I wanted to sleep in with you. Plus, I don't want to leave you alone while you shower," she said, giving you a kiss on the cheek before undressing alongside you.

"Oh totally," you replied with a laugh, turning on the water in the shower.

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"Okay, so now we need four room-temperature eggs that have been separated," Vanessa calls out to you as you grab the eggs from the counter and a bowl.

"Wait, separated? Do you mean in different bowls?" you ask, looking at the eggs and the one bowl you had taken out.

Vanessa laughs and you look up at her, confused. She shakes her head with a smile and puts down the baking book she was reading from before moving to stand behind you.

"No, my love, separatied means separating the yolk from the egg whites. Can you hand me an egg?" she playfully whispers in your ear.

You hand her an egg and she stands next to you, cracking it against the counter and separating the yolk from the egg white by passing it between the two shells until only the yolk remains.

"See? It's not that difficult," she says with a smile, breaking you from your trance. You return the smile and say, "Yeah, I've got this."

As you continue to separate the eggs and put them in the bowl, Vanessa moves around the kitchen, preparing the other ingredients.

"Done!" you exclaim, looking at Vanessa. She curses under her breath and you drop the empty egg shells in shock. Vanessa had accidentally dropped the flour on her head while reaching for it on the top shelf. You cover your mouth to stifle the laugh that wants to escape as you watch her.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I was just excited to do this right and-" Before you can finish apologizing, Vanessa throws the rest of the flour on you, causing you to gasp in surprise. You stand in shock as she laughs.

"Nessa! What the hell?" you exclaim, surprised. Vanessa continues to laugh as you grab one of the egg yolks from the counter and smear it on her face. She stops laughing as you rub the yolk on her face, then wipes it away to look at you with a playful glare.

"Now you're in trouble," she says, grabbing the rest of the yolks and smushing them on your face. You groan and wipe the yolk off, spitting out any that got into your mouth.

Vanessa continues to laugh as you complain about the yolk in your mouth. She runs to get towels and two glasses of water before returning and handing you a towel. You wipe your face and apologize for laughing, then pick up one of the glasses of water and pour it on Vanessa's head, causing her to gasp and close her eyes.

"Y/n!" she shouts, and you laugh as you run away. Vanessa wipes her face with her sleeve before chasing after you and tackling you onto the couch.

"Hey, stop! You're going to get the couch wet and dirty," you say, laughing as she tickles you. Vanessa finally stops and walks away for a moment, giving you time to catch your breath. But before you can, she comes back with the other glass of water. You try to protest, but she throws the water on you before you can finish. You groan as she giggles and says, "Now we're even."

"Let's go finish this cake," Vanessa says, laughing as she walks back to the kitchen. You call out that you'll get her back and fall back onto the now-wet couch, not caring if it gets any dirtier.

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You lay snuggled up against Vanessa on the couch as an old romance show played on the television. She had her arms wrapped around you as you picked at the remnants of cake on your plate, gazing absentmindedly at the TV. Vanessa's lips snapped you out of your daydream as she planted a soft kiss on your head, causing you to smile and look up at her.

"Hi," you say with a smile, and she smiles back before nodding towards the plate in your hand.

"Are you going to finish that?" she asks, and you look down at the plate before shaking your head and playing with the plastic fork.

"Nah, do you want the last bite?" you offer, looking back up at her. She nods eagerly, and you hand her the plate.

"Can you feed it to me, though?" she asks with a mischievous glint in her eye. You raise an eyebrow, wondering what she's up to, but ultimately nod and move to straddle her. As you hand her the fork, she grabs your leg and pulls it over her waist, holding onto your waist as you lean down to feed her the last bite of cake.

"This is extra, you could have just taken the plate from me," you comment, slightly annoyed but unable to hide your smile.

"I know, but you look cute when you're flustered," Vanessa teases, smirking up at you. You playfully roll your eyes before planting a quick kiss on her lips.

"Let's go shower now," you say, trying to get up, but Vanessa's grip on your waist tightens.

"One more kiss," she pleads, and you sigh, knowing she won't let you go until you comply. You give her a tight-lipped smile before leaning down to give her another quick kiss, but she surprises you by deepening the kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth. You moan against her lips as you taste the cake on her tongue.

As the kiss intensifies, you feel Vanessa's hand move from the back of your head to rest on your cheek, and she breaks the kiss, her thumb lightly tracing your bottom lip. You catch your breath, looking down at her with a dazed expression.

"Do you still want to shower?" she asks with a playful glint in her eye, and you shyly nod, hiding your face in the crook of her neck.

"But we should take one together to save water," you suggest, your voice muffled against her skin. Vanessa hums in agreement, her voice teasing as she replies, "Sure, just because you want to save water."

You can't help but smile against her neck as you lift your head to look at her with a mock serious expression.

"Vanessa, that's gross. We both have our periods," you say, feigning disgust at what she was suggesting. But Vanessa just shrugs, not fazed by your comment.

"So what?" she replies with a smirk, and you can't help but laugh at her nonchalant response.

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Tbh idk if this is short or long but I can tell you it sucks ass but I’m so fucking tired with school and shit I got lazy at the ending and I’m so sorry abt that 😭 I promise future fics won’t be this ass.