A/N: TW - MAY CAUSE SEVERE TRAUMA. DO NOT PROCEED.
Love is always promised to be a beautiful thing. It makes your heart flutter and stomach flip, blushing your cheeks red. It leaves you speechless in even the most minute moments, transforming life from a calm road trip into an exciting street race through curves and tunnels.
These mesmerizing descriptions made him hesitant to love, afraid he would be disappointed. It had set his standards so high he felt no one would ever reach them. Yet he was so wrong.
Mr. Pringles never expected to meet him, the Orange Charming the chip has always dreamt of, the one he had cherished so much that he felt unreal, the orange really did exist. Even more so, the love between them was just as described in fairytales. Exciting and adventurous, yet soft and tender when need.
Pringles truly was the happiest person he could ever be. The crusty orange charmer brought out the best of him.
His name was Donald Trump.
And this was all before he thought it couldn't get any better.
"Well, I'll leave it up to my prince Trump to blast my expectations out of the way like he blasted it inside of me under the sheets last night." Mr. Pringles said while washing his crusty face.
Sunlight filtered through the window, illuminating the white walls surrounding us. Pringle felt the bed shift beside him, and the musty hand around his potatoey waist tightened slightly. He stretched his tiny arms above his head, groaning as he felt his back crack.
"Good morning, Dumpy Trumpy, how are you feeling?" Pringle asked, turning himself more onto Trump's side.
"Amazing. Your crust is delicious, honey bee." His voice sounded like music to Pringle, filling his ears with the comfort of his presence.
"How did you sle-ep?" Trumpet asked with his signature pout, his fake hair barely holding on his bald spot.
"Mmh, I slept good, like always Donny." Pringle chuckled, "Is there anything on the plan for today?"
"Yeah, actually. We need to be ready by twelve if that's alright."
He pulled his body away from his pringle, sitting up and leaving him cold and missing his touch. The sheets slipped from his torso, exposing his tanned, hairy, orange chest. Pringle averted his eyes shyly. Donny looked back and caught Pringley blushing, he raised a blonde eyebrow, smirking slightly. As if to push him even further, Trumpet ran his hand through his blond, half-fallen-off wig. He averted his blue, clear eyes again and stood up fully.
The sheet fell onto the floor, exposing his entire orange body.
He moved to the door of the bedroom, opening it yet not yet moving through. "Be ready in thirty."
