#And I definitely have u to thank as one reason 💕💕💕

[clemencetaught]

FERRE; SWEET, WONDERFUL, DEAR FERRE!!!! HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO YOU 🎂🎉🥳🍰!!!!

May this day be full of fantastic moments, pleasant surprises, good company, delicious food and everything great that the world has to offer 💖 I hope this new year for you is covered with happiness, success, good health, memorable experiences and heartwarming situations 😊✨️!! I'm wishing you the best today and ALWAYS!!!

You are such a supportive, understanding, creative and marvelous soul;; your presence is a bright light that brings comfort, ease and joy 🥺 I thank you IMMENSELY for your friendship, for all those lovely chats where we freely go back and forth with our thoughts (I LOVE!! READING ALL YOU HAVE TO SHARE!! I'D READ ENTIRE BOOKS OF THAT!!); for all the stories we've written and developed together (ALL THOSE MARVELOUS PLOTS THAT BRING ME BOTH JOY AND PAIN ((but its okay, I signed up for the wounds 😭😂)), I KEEP THEM ALL IN MY HEART AND I AM CONTINUOUSLY THRILLED TO WRITE AND CREATE WITH YOU!!!) and for!! Giving my muses and I a chance 🥲

It's been nothing but AN HONOR, to get to know you, chat and write with you, and I hope we continue to do this fOR MANY MORE YEARS (I mean…you're stuck with me, THE RECEIPT IS LOST SO YOU CANT RETURN ME HSOWAKBAAJ 😂)!!

It also makes me very happy to celebrate your birthday once more, I HAVE MY PARTY HAT ON AND I'M THROWING HEART-SHAPED CONFETTI ALL OVER THE PLACE 🎉🎉🎉🥳🥳🥳❤️

THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING, PLEASE HAVE A FANTABULOUS DAY!!! I CARE YOU AND ADORE YOU HEAPS, MY FRIEND!!!!

HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! ✨️✨️✨️✨️

@jeoseungsaja alex has me like:

ALEX!!!! 🥰🥰🥰😭😭😭💕

you know nowadays it’s so weird to me?? To remember when there was a time where I wasn’t writing or plotting with you- it's hard to believe that we started writing together about two years ago...which is why i am SO GRATEFUL that you gave me the chance to not only write and plot with you but also be your friend 🥺🥺🥺 you are a SUCH a kind and thoughtful person and i'm sure everyone who is lucky enough to be mutuals with you can testify in my favor here and the judge is also biased towards me, sorry folks, the right to a fair trial in this case?? no such thing fjksldjf 😌

ANYWAYS i can only say i have such wonderful and intricate characters and plots on here because of my wonderful and creative partners such as you and all of our lovely mutuals 🥺🥺🥺 any day i get the chance to interact with you always is a good day in my book!! I always feel like a dash of dophmomine when I see u around 💕💕💕 and you know i am ALWAYS an excited puppy for our plots and  your characters ( and even MORE PLOTS….we could have 1923947373 and I would be down for more still DHDJDJD 😂😂😂 )- I also v sorry for the pain i gib u ( black knight verse )and for the pain coming in the future too ( thg verse WHICH ALSO THANK YOU JUMPING IN THE HOLE AND DRAGGING HYUK AND HAE GEON AND WILDER AND JAEHWAN AND ALL UR OTHER CHARACTERS IN TOO, it’s big enough for everyone 😌 )….if it helps it gives me pain too and any pain u gib me I shall take stride….I’ll also pay u ( and ur charas, hyuk especially )back with happiness I swear ( + tissues and consoling too 🥲🥲🥲 ) 💕💕💕💕

but thank YOU for your sweet, sweet message- I will admit when I woke up on my bday I wasn’t in most amazing of moods but reading ur message put a huge smile on my face ☺️☺️☺️ you are such a bright spot on this hellsite and most certainly a ☀️ on my dash and I am very thankful to have met you- I’m always in awe that I get to be able to interact with someone who is not only an excellent writer with characters that jump off the page but also a decent and genuinely all around good person 🥲🥲🥲 this is all to say just like you said, unfortunately for us both I will be stuck to u like superglue even after this hellsite dies 😂😂😂 not even returning the receipt will help u there!!

all in all though, thank you SO MUCH for the birthday wishes ( and YOUR GIFT DONT THINK YOURE GETTING AWAY WITH ME NOT NOTICING 🤩🤩🤩 )!! care you so much and I know for sure that this year will be as wonderful as the last since you’ll be there 🥰🥰🥰

[ghostfacd]

LIVE LAUGH, SCREAM! | TOM BLYTH

pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

summary. where one comment could lead into an internet feud between tom blyth and yn avocot, resulting in them falling inlove ?!

author’s note. [ THIS TAKES PLACE BEFORE YN AND TOM STARTED DATING ] thank you to the nonnie that said yn gives off scream vibes bc they’re the reason i even made this post in the first place! 🤭

installment of this au | read for context

ynuser scream bts (you’re welcome!)

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jennaortega did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

➥ jackchampion no but it might’ve when she stabbed u in the movie

➥ ynuser JACK 😭😭

user1 jenna flirting, jack teasing, I LOVE THIS CAST YOUR HONOR

user2 okay but literally your performance was just chefs kiss 😭 PLEASE tell me you’re starting in other movies as well bae

➥ ynuser oh thank you!! im so honored you enjoyed it ❤️ I will get back to you on your question!! 👀

➥ user3 OMGG YN IN ANOTHER FILM WOULD BE KILLER

➥ user4 well actually 🤓☝️ she was one of the ghostface in the film which means she actually was a killer

user5 @/user4 bye

tomblyth amazing film

➥ ynuser thanks

➥ user6 THANKS?? THANKS?! girl that’s tom blyth

➥ ynuser @/user6 who?

user7 no way this girl just asked who tom blyth is

➥ user8 well can u blame her tho?? he’s in like what, billy the kid or whatever? it’s not that known..

➥ user9 nah girl stars in one film and thinks she’s all that 😭

rachelzegler YOU DID SO GOOD GIRL 💕

➥ ynuser rachel my love 😭😭❤️

tomblyth who am I? well now you know

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user10 oh he’s so fine

user11 LMFAOO is this a jab at yn not knowing who you are

user12 show that girl 🤭🤭 she thinks she’s all that after getting one acting gig

➥ user13 y’all are so obsessed with her hello..

ynuser sure. now i know

➥ user14 oh im having so much fun watching all this go down

ynuser more bts because i love scream 6 and so should you!

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tomblyth yeah the movie’s cool and all but how abt i treat you out for dinner?

➥ user15 HELLO???

user16 enemies to lovers era ?

user17 pls lord get these two together

jackchampion say yes to the dinner invite and bring me back steak

➥ ynuser 🤨🤨

➥ jackchampion and a vanilla soda too please

user18 i love jack n yn’s friendship

ynuser and tomblyth both posted a story!

ynuser eating sushi and then putting on some comfy pjs is a great way to spend a day

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user19 the way tom also posted sushi pics very similar to what she’s eating…

➥ user20 WHY IS NOBODY MENTIONING THE MATCHING HOTDOG STORY POSTS AS WELL 😭😭😭

user21 pjs TOGETHER?! im afraid we’ve lost her

user22 everybody knows.. everybody knows

jackchampion splendid way to spend the day

➥ user23 what if it’s jack?? tom and yn don’t even fw each other LOL

➥ user24 true. he did ask her for dinner tho

➥ user25 who wouldn’t? she’s yn.

Eclaté_Mode On this new episode of BTS With Your Favorites, Tom Blyth dishes on his skincare routine, how he keeps himself productive during breaks, and his internet rivalry with actress, Y/N Avocot. Full video linked in bio

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user26 THE WAY HE COMPLIMENTS YN this is definitely enemies to lovers

user27 “me and yn have exciting need to share soon” excuse me

user28 so they inlove or what

user29 yn fell inlove with a brit man it’s over for US

user30 WAIT WHAT DOES HE MEANNNN

tomblyth well surprise. enemies to lovers much?

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ynuser nice pic send me it

user31 WAITT RACHEL HIM AND YN IN A FILM?? did not expect this..

user32 hold awn..

user33 is this confirmation they’re dating

➥ ynuser we aren’t dating.

➥ rachelzegler yet.

➥ user34 RACHEL???

rachelzegler you’re welcome for this crossover, i encouraged both of them to audition for the role

➥ user35 WE LOVE RACHEL ZEGLER

jennaortega take care of my gf 😽

[causenessus]

HIII NESS CONGRATULATIONS ON 1K!! YOU DESERVE IT SO SO MUCH LOVELY!! 🤲🏻🤍

and if I mayy, can I pls have 💕 + 💙 with iwa if that's alright? I have this picture in my head where iwa doesn't really like touching other's hands with his cause they're pretty calloused, but I just know he's the type to kiss his lover's knuckles so he makes an exception and AHHHH soft iwa always gets me

but anyway CONGRATS AGAINNN!! ILYSM AND TY IF U DECIDE TO DO THIS<3

knuckles & callouses. | iwaizumi h.

iwaizumi x f! reader

written in 2nd person

prompts from 1k followers event: 💕 -> childhood friends &💙 -> "i like the way your hand fits in mine"

"yeah i'll do everything / just let you know / all the reasons why / i'm never gonna let you go <3" from never gonna let you go by stevie dinner

word count: 1k words

notes: fluff!! this was cute to write because i have a lot of callouses on my hands from how frequently i climb ladders (catwalk monkey things </3). iwa’s definitely one of those guys who would've fallen victim to that “my hands look like this so her’s can look like this” trend years ago <3 thank you so much for requesting frans!!! i hope you enjoy this and your idea was ADORABLE

ALSO if you like this...you should totally check out @eggyrocks... who has a kuroo smau CALLED calloused hands which i thought about the entire time i was writing this AND THEY ALSO HAVE MANY MANY BANGER IWA FICS

"the conversation between your fingers and someone else's skin... this is the most important discussion you can ever have."

hajime always has a hand on you. whether it’s an arm around your waist or shoulder keeping you close, or a hand on your thigh when you’re sitting down. he likes to always be in contact with you in some way, making sure you’re still there. but despite that, no matter what, he never lets you hold his hand. whenever you reached for it, he always subtly moved it out of the way just in time. he’d casually lift it from his side where you were moving to hold it and play it off by brushing a stray piece of your hair back, giving you an innocent smile as if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing.

“haji,” you pout one day, fed up with his avoidant habit. “you can’t constantly remind me to put lotion on my hands to keep them from drying out and then not let me hold your hands because you think they’re rough.”

“what are you gonna do about it?” he smiles, amused by your complaint. as if just to make his point clear, he brings your hand to his lips, placing a light kiss on your knuckles. he’s always taking care of you, telling you he’s happy just loving on you and needs nothing else, but that’s not enough for you.

“this,” you retort, grabbing his hand between both of yours, kissing his own knuckles. he can act snarky towards you, you’ll just act the same way back.

out of habit, he tries to pull his hand out of your grip, but you won’t let him. “y/n–”

“no, haji,” you cut him off, looking him straight in the eyes, “i want to hold your hand. i want to love on you the same way you love on me, the way you have since we were kids. and we used to hold hands all the time back then, when your hands were still soft.”

he averts his eyes, and you see the way his jaw tightens at the mention of your shared childhood, “that’s why i don’t want you to touch them–”

“i’m not done yet,” you hush him, placing a finger to his lips, “i miss hold your hands, hajime. i don’t care if they’re rough or calloused or whatever you want to call them. as much as you and your manly little head like to believe that me touching your hands is the end of the world, it’s not. do you wanna know what i think about your calloused hands?”

he blinks for a second, as if he’s seriously considering if he wants to know. his teasing demeanor has completely given away to a nervous, embarrassed one as he mumbles out a small, “...what?”

“i think they’re beautiful just the way you are,” you say, giving him a smile as you turn his hand over in your own, running your thumbs along the hills of his knuckles before you kiss them again, the way he's kissed yours so many times. “i think they show how hard you’ve worked,” you say, holding up his right hand so that you can both see it. you point out the bump on the left side of his middle finger, “i like this callus. do you remember what you told me? you said you developed it when we wrote letters to each other while you were traveling for your internship. you were complaining so much, saying ‘i’ve never had to write this much in my life! blah blah blah, i have another callus…’ do you know what that meant to me? that you were writing so much to me that you developed a callus? i loved reading your long letters, i was so happy that you wrote so much—that you didn’t leave out any details even if it tired out your hand. as much as you may hate how it looks, i like it. it’s like i’m always with you now.” 

you kiss his hand and he presses his lips into a thin line. he’s trying to hold himself back from agreeing with you, but two can play that game. there's a reason you both have stuck around each other since you were kids. “i like the way your fingers are uneven from volleyball. they show how dedicated you were to it, that even when you tore a tendon in one of them, you kept playing because you were so bent on winning. i like the way your hand fits in mine, and the way that i can feel each and every single one of your calluses whenever i hold them. i like the stories behind each one.”

“...you’re a sappy work of art, you know that?” he says after a short pause, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“oh whatever,” you roll your eyes, intertwining your hand with his. and he lets you. “i can see your cheeks are red. did i get through to you?”

“maybe,” he mumbles, looking away.

“does this mean i get to hold your hands more often?” you tease with a smile, squeezing his hand. he squeezes it back three times, giving you a silent ‘i love you.’ 

“i guess,” he shrugs, slightly pursing his lips, “but don’t complain if they get sweaty, or rougher in the winter.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it,” you laugh, lowering your intertwined hands so you can step closer, standing on the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “and now you can’t complain if i won’t let go of your hands. you’ve given me permission to hold them and i have lost time to make up for, mr. macho man with the calloused hands.”

he gives you an exasperated sigh, telling you that you've won. you give him a smug smile as he lifts up your hand to kiss the top of it, “as long as your pretty hands stay the way they are, that’s all that really matters. i’ll keep working hard. and if you truly feel that way about my hands, you can do whatever you want with them. i'm all yours.”

[lalacliffthorne]

Hi, I love your modern batboys roommate fic so much. I am obsessed with Azriel and readers relationship and the way you write them. It’s my comfort fic that I always fun back to.

I know you don’t take request and I totally respect that, but I would be really curious what it would look like when Az and reader get into a fight (either a smaller fight like a disagreement or even a bigger fight). I’m really curious what it would look like since they live together, how they would react to being in a fight. And I’m curious what Rhys and Cassian’s reactions would be as well. But I feel like depending on the fight it wouldn’t last too long since they seem to be good at communicating and they love each other so much.

Sorry about the ramble, I’ve thought about this way too much. Anyways love your writing and your fics 🫶🏻🫶🏻

omg hi 🥹 thank u so much!! this means the world to me 💕

oohhhhh okay?? this is a really good question?! I already know I'm gonna go overboard with this lol

so for me, I feel like disagreements are rare. because honestly, you rarely disagree on anything in the first place. like, you are so attuned to each other and in synch, barely anything can throw that.

which means, the few disagreements that might occur are usually based on concern or something similiar. like azriel thinking you need a break and you being too stubborn, and vice versa. but those are usually solved easily, with azriel simply literally dragging you away from work and you talking some sense into him. communication is something the both of you know is important, and while az might not seem like he's big on talking, he's actually one of the few people that can get through to you when you're caught in your head, with simple, steady words. vice versa, you are one of the only people that can get through to him.

which means, actual fights are even more rare. like, so rare that the first time it happens, it throws not just you, but everyone.

it would definitely be about something that actually runs deep, bc anything superficial you either talk out or never actually becomes a problem. it would have to be something that makes azriel shut down and you so frustrated that you do too. again, I think it would be most likely something that stems from concern about the other.

the fight itself would shake you to your core. not because azriel would get loud or anything, he would never, not even in a serious argument, not even if you lost your temper on him. but bc usually, you manage to talk through everything.

but this time, instead, azriel shuts down. barely says anything at all, whole body tense and eyes stormy. it wouldn't be to punish you or anything; the literal only reason he would shut down on you like this would be him getting caught in his own head until he's not able to see how desperate you are, angry - until you shut down too.

and that is when the actual hard part begins. azriel is still caught in his head and distances himself without even noticing, and you pull back too, bc you're stuck in your own head.

which means suddenly, the whole flat is quiet.

rhys and cassian would notice immediately - and it would throw absolutely everything for them. bc let's be honest, azriel and you are the one constant these two can always rely on when they get home, knowing you are either in one of your rooms, your body curled into azriel's on the bed, messing around in the kitchen or sandwiched on the couch. you are the two people in their lives they know are like - fucking meant for each other.

so I definitely think it would have a massive effect on them. like suddenly rhys, who has problems sleeping in good times, barely sleeps at all. just loses all his focus; burns food and gets the simplest recipes wrong. he gets snappy, not even sarcastic or anything, just plain pissed, until it mounts into an absolutely massive argument with his dad. and cass, who we all know is basically sunshine incarnate, is just worried to his core. bc you're his family, and he can't lose that. so, gone is the constant grin and jokes, until all is left is a broody attitude and a deep frown.

I don't think either of them would ever pick sides, like - they love the both of you way too much for that and can probably guess that this argument is not really anyone's fault. having said that, I do think cass would probably gravitate towards you. bc - he is so protective of you on a good day, and he literally physically can't stand to see you so upset. it just absolutely breaks his heart, and he would want to do everything in his power to make sure you're not alone in this. like, he's the one who gets you to finally open your door, and who you break down on. he's the one who doesn't leave your side until he absolutely has to, who takes you wherever you need to go, sends everyone who just looks at you for too long scrambling with a simple dark glare. don't get me wrong, he'd leave you alone if you'd asked him, but he would probably fucking camp outside your door or something, just in case.

rhys on the other hand is there for you quietly. like coming into both of your rooms to bring you food and, in your case, sitting down on the floor until you've eaten something. pulling you out of the flat for a walk so you get some fresh air, just letting you lean into him. other than that, he just watches quietly.

until he's had enough. cause honestly - it's clear to anyone with the barest bit of common sense that both azriel and you are absolutely miserable. neither of you leaves their room. you don't get any sleep, bc how when azriel's not there, your thoughts are swallowing you whole, and you don't smile anymore. meanwhile, azriel stops talking altogether. both of you are yearning so incredibly hard for the other that whenever azriel just catches a whiff of your perfume, he has to fight the urge to barge into your room, simply held back by guilt, and you well up whenever you just catch a glimpse at his door.

I think rhys would probably just march into azriel's room and tell him to cut the crap. he would be so angry, like - "please, for god`s sake, stop being a fucking idiot, get out of your head and talk to your fucking girlfriend, you moron". and azriel would glare at him so hard - but rhys just glares the fuck back until azriel breaks.

he probably finds you in your room. it breaks his heart to see you curled up under your blanket, looking tired and pale and likely with red eyes from crying, and he suddenly absolutely wants to kick himself. you're not any better tho, the sight of him, hair a mess, dark shadows under his eyes and gaze dull causing your chest to squeeze.

you definitely talk it out, azriel starting, voice quiet, rough. it needs a good, honest conversation, about the reasoning why he shut down, why you did the same. you also promise there and that moment to never let it get that far again, to not speaking for days, bc honestly - you're just miserable without the other, and you barely handled it this time. you make a deal to give the other space when needed but never go to bed without talking it out - and you stick to that, for every future argument after.

when azriel finally pulls you into a hug so tight, your ribs ache, you just squeeze back, probably tearing up bc god, you missed him. and you missed his smile and his eyes and the way he always seems to be right behind you, and nothing feels right without him.

cass and rhys are so relieved when you walk into the kitchen together bit later, cass breaking into the widest grin ever and rhys immediately making you promise to him too to never let it get this far again, bc fuck that - the two of you are meant together and fighting is just shit. it makes you giggle wetly, azriel cracking the first grin in days, and both cass and rhys swear the world finally feels right again.

anyway, jfc, I'm sorry for this ramble 🙈 that totally got out of hand 😂

thank u so much for this again tho, this was really fun!! if there are other scenarios you've been thinking about, I'd love to hear them 💞

[sanemisstalker]

Homie I don't know if you've considered writing a part 2 for the incel Gyutaro modern! Au scenario cause it legit rewired something in my brain ajskaj 🤒💕- he's like a weird bug that's fun to poke and watch em S Q U I R M ah, I love it.

Like I can see later on y/n has an indirect impact on him even though it's a casual thing- like, telling him his cum taste bitter af and it convinces him to eat better if it means he'll keep getting head (toss in more regular showers in there now that I think about it) . Would also wonder how his sis would react to them hanging out-? 🤔

If it's not in your plans that's alright- either way, it gave me the strength to write for him and I am thankful for the food 🛐

Guess what this post is!!!! I was saving this ask so I could post part 2 with it or whateverrrr. I'm so giggle that so many people are interacting with that post, I didn't expect it to get such good reception!!

Also also, I do plan to write about how this Gyutaro definitely still raised his sister and is a bang up brother in spite of these mentalities he has! I have another ask that wants me to elaborate, and I'm planning on just making a big headcanon thing for him!!

PART ONE <-

CW// FEM READER// AFAB// BREASTED / Dub-con/Non-con (Gyutaro does something sexual under the guise he'll get laid, undiscussed BDSM dynamic)/ Panic Attack/ Vomit (not in a sex way) / Piss (kinda in a sex way)/ Sexism/ Incel mentalities/ Toxic Masculinity / Forced Bisexuality / BDSM dynamics / I say 'skullfuck' at one point / Gyutaro is reffered to as a toilet.

-Incel!Gyutaro's eyes had never even grazed a real dance floor, but there he was, at the big name club you'd dropped the location of 30 minutes ago. He'd hopped on his bike and sped there in what could only be called desperation.

-There wasn't a wait like in the movies. Not a big long line, and they let him in in his baggy jeans and stupid fucking Nietzsche shirt. He hadn't even realized he'd brought his bike helmet in until he was tossing it between his shaking, filthy hands.

-There were so many people. All of them taking their sweet time to gawk at his height and face. This was why he didn't leave the dorm. That and the abhorrent, terminally 2011 music.

-The photo had pissed him off. Bad. He'd come with the intention of a rematch (in your honor or whatever, he's not cringe enough to say that, though) and he planned to leave with you clinging to him like you were supposed to be.

-and obviously you were because there you were, hanging off Tengen Uzui's naturally bulging muscles with those 3 other mindless sluts. Not giving a fuck in the world about him or that skanky photo you sent.

-You were hard to spot in your slut disguise.

-You looked like every other girl there, and that pissed him off even worse, in a way. He had deluded himself into thinking you were good. Into thinking you were different from other females because you knew the bands and the movies, and you agreed when he implied that genetically you were just dumber-

-'Gyutaro!' You'd screech out as you locked eyes with the man. In the dark of the club, with the neon purple strobing over him, he looked almost daunting. With his helmet on one hip, and phone dangling from his other hand, Gyutaro had something similar to a western charm.

-You'd pop off of Tengen, who would only lift his head up to register the man, and then turn back to his girlfriends.

-The whole reason for their fight had been rather trivial, Gyutaro assumed, but, despite his lax appearance, Tengen did everything in his power not to smash the man's own helmet back over his head.

-He feared, along with Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru, for your safety as you barreled into the man.

-You'd run into them with a new found confidence that night. After leaving Gyutaro in his sorry state, bounding up to the three women was far less intimidating. Almost like you shared a comraderie with them-

-and you had! The three were incredibly nice and immediately ushered you to Tengen where you all began to get a long in a picturesque fashion.

-You looked good. Hanging onto his arm with the other women felt good- You just had to take a photo.

-Gyutaro was going to panic. Tengen Uzui didn't scare him anymore, but that immediate jump from Tengen's arms to his, he didn't know how to satisfy that expectation.

-Of course he was better than Tengen- but on a "purely physical" level, he knew he would never have the stamina or prowess to conquer the bodies of three women at once.

-Especially not when he couldn't even fathom conquering you.

-'Ah, is this who you were talking about?' Tengen asked. You laughed in response, nodding with verve. Your body was beginning to shift against him- fuck-

-'Mhm, Gyutaro's my best friend.' You slurred, and it occurred to Gyutaro then, that you might be slighty inebriated. God, Tengen had an awful effect on you.

-His heart thudded at the words 'best friend' Despite your light and teasing cadence, were you friendzoning him? Would you just fuck any friend you had? Not that you fucked him- but you totally fucked him-

-'Oh?' Tengen sang in that stupid fucking tone that made Gyutaro want to rip off that girly fucking headband he wore. 'Have you slept with him?'

-Makio slapped Tengen's shoulder.

-'No, no- Not yet.' Gyutaro was panicking, now. Yet? Yet? You were planning to fuck hi-

-'Be careful.' Tengen sang. And that should've been the end of his thought, but maybe the drink he had was doing more than he expected, because Tengen couldn't fight the grin nor the words that spilled from his mouth after-

-'Tell him to try and last longer this time.'

-Gyutaro saw red, and blue, and maybe it was because of the weed air or the sex musk permeating past the bar- Maybe it was the anger he had at you for sharing such a thing about him- maybe it was because He'd been holding his breathe and plotting Tengen's downfall, and now he was-

-Who was he kidding, Gyutaro was going to fucking barf. The stress was too much, and his stomach rolled in response. He'd never been exposed to such an environment, or such an embarassment, and all he knew to do was turn away and try to keep it down until he got to the bathroom.

-'That was so mean!' Suma cried out as Gyutaro trudged away, attempt at disguising his mood futile. 'You made him cry!'

-'He literally called you a slut to your face at the start of the semester. What the fuck do you mean, mean?' Makio barked.

-You were in one of the gross stalls, pulling his scraggly black hair away from the rancid bowl. You weren't sure how he ate so much and still stayed so twig thin. He'd been puking for at least ten minutes.

-'I didn't expect you to come here.' You lied, having very much intended for that outcome. 'You think Tengen Uzui remembers every drunken, horny story he gets from a woman?'

-He was mortified. The idea that Tengen specifically knew something so intimate about him made him hear colors. Red colors. He was hearing the club lighting and seething at the red blur of the motion sensor on the toilet-

-The tile felt like splinters.

-'W-Why did you tell him that?' Gyutaro gasped out between spills. The question lacked his usual grit. It sounded genuine and hurt.

-He nodded lamely and went to drop his face onto the porcelain, but your hand swooped down.

-Your palm against his marred face was soothing. Lifting his head up from the toilet bowl, you wiped his mouth off with toilet paper.

-His heart fluttered. What a girlish emotion he was feeling.

-'I'm sorry.' You whispered and only semi meant it. Some of the things he said about women in the past months could've definitely validated such treatment. Some of the comments were bordering on illegal, others on beyond morally questionable.

-'It's okay.' He slurred, moving away from your hand to try and stop that flutter. You were quick to find his scar again, and, with hesitance losing to need, he rubbed against your palm.

-Cat. The word shot through your head and then retreated. No, no. A mangy cat. A cat with mange. Rabies, maybe even.

-'I wasn't crying or any-' as he began to speak, you pulled a small bottle of mouth wash out from your bag.

-'Tip your head back.' Gyutaro cut off his sentence and did as you said. The burn of the wash was painful. As he went to spit it out, you pressed a finger to his lips.

-'You get a gift if you can keep it in for the full minute.'

-It hurt. Gyutaro can't remember the last time he brushed his teeth, but the burn in his gums said he should do it more. He managed, though, and you followed through by pulling a tooth brush from your bag.

-Gyutaro had seen this plot before, in a hentai, probably, but he'd always imagined himself probing some innocent sweet trad girl's mouth with a tooth brush. Not being probed.

-You scrubbed plague off his teeth with precise intensity. His gums bled, and he whined. His jaw would occasionally stutter, and he'd bite down with enough force that you feared for your toothbrush.

-Another pass at the mouth wash and Gyutaro stared up at you, puffy lipped and teary eyed. You hadn't necessarily been gentle, nor had you avoided his gag reflex, but you leaned down to Gyutaro.

-His natural huffiness now had a pleasant bubblegum scent.

-When you pulled the vibrator from your pussy, Gyutaro nearly puked again. He hadn't noticed it in your sneaky photo, so seeing you hike your leg up on the toilet seat and pluck it from your insides made him see stars.

-Had you had that in the entire time? Had you told the other girls? Had you told Tengen?

-You dropped the vibrator into his lap. Not in his pants, not intentionally near his dick- on his lap. Gyutaro had taken on an all too natural kneeling position, and you dropped the vibe between the small gap of his thighs.

-Dull buzzing bounced up his thighs, vibratons too far to feel- And then you were pressing your cunt against his face, and he was taking in the scent of your pubes-

-He had been told that eating a woman out was a sign of submission. Got told it'd be gross, and to only do it when the situation was dire. And a situation with a female should never become dire- Having someone's genitals forced in his face like this-

-Gyutaro loved the smell of your pussy. The taste. His hands took to your thighs immediately, one slipping back to find the meat of your ass and bury his fingers in it.

-It would surprise you, how right he looked snug between your thighs. How his eyes fluttered back when he forgot he wasn't really supposed to be into this kind of thing.

-You could remember all of the things he said about vaginas. It often left you contemplating whether or not he found women attractive to begin with, but with his tongue rolling so naturally against your clit, you couldn't question it.

-He was made for this, both of you figured. Your warmth against his palate was ball tightening. He immediately took to it. You'd never seen such enthusiasm and love shown to your cunt.

-'Fuckkkkkk-' He'd moan, but with his tongue flat against you it came out in drool. His spit spilled onto his jean clad thighs, uncaring about anything other than eating you out.

-With his back against the toilet, and your hands gripping his hair, if you saw it from the back, it'd look like you were skullfucking the man. The thought made Gyutaro's already raging hard on twitch-

-And that's exactly how Tengen saw it when he opened the stall.

-'Oh?' He said, and you felt Gyutaro's grip tighten around your thighs. Today was just humiliation after humiliation, wasn't it? He knew by the stupid sing-song tone of the voice exactly who'd invaded his time with you.

-Black pulsed the corners of his vision.

-'Ah, Tengen-' You tried to keep your voice steady- not willing to let yourself be intimidated by a man his size in such a situation. Not infront of Gyutaro. He didn't need real life experience to back up forum rumors.

-'Can I use this toilet?' He nodded down to Gyutaro, and you looked down to the man between your thighs, a bit shocked by the ask.

- Gyutaro would pull off your cunt fast, wide eyed and all teeth.

-'What the fuck did you just s-' You lodged your fingers down his throat, Gyutaro gagging hurtfully against them. His eyes rolled back. He didn't know why having his mouth fucked with felt so good. It'd never felt this good when he was alone-

-'When I cum, yeah.' And Gyutaro was back on your pussy, a sudden fear lighting his movements. You wouldn't really let Tengen do that to him, right?

-Why was he depending on you, a woman, to prevent that? He should just get up and kick his ass- Tengen would have an advan...advantage.... an-

-Fuck your pussy was mind numbing. Fuck whatever Tengen wanted to do to him. He needed that juice.

-Gyutaro chased your orgasm. You were only slightly dissapointed he didn't cum with you- didn't show Tengen how good he could be. A part of you wanted to impress Tengen- to show off a little bit. Show what you tamed. Even if that taming was still very early in the works-

-When you came, Gyutaro smiled wide against your pussy. You pulled back with shaking legs and his head in your hands and he looked at you like Tengen wasn't pulling his cock from his boxers just centimeters away.

-'Just want your pussy, I need your pussy-' He slurred while you starred down at him.

-'If you drink it, I'll let you fuck me-' His ears would begin ringing. Shocked by his own actions, Gyutaro found his jaw unhinged, taking Tengen's flaccid cock down his throat.

-Maybe it was easier for him to accept because Gyutaro never dealt with penis envy. The two men were surprisingly matched. How unfortunate. You really wanted to see how Gyutaro would react to a cock that much bigger-

-Tengen took advantage of the willing hole, rocking his hips a bit much to Gyutaro's anger.

-'If you bite me, I'll drown you. Don't want to die with your head in a toilet, eh, Shabana?' Tengen taunted, sensing the upset from his thighs.

-You watched as Gyutaro's adam apple surged, and Tengen's head dropped back in relief. It was more than Gyutaro could take, obviously, because it began spilling from the corners of his mouth and onto his Neitzsche shirt.

-Gyutaro's face burnt red, and he reeked like piss. Tengen gave the other man's face a light, almost appreciative slap.

-As Tengen pulled out, a rush of piss came spilling onto the floor. He wasn't done though, a guiding hand locking around Gyutaro's jaw to tip his head up. The trickle was backed by the music blurring outside.

-His flow came to a stop, and he carefully shut Gyutaro's mouth. Gyutaro looked over at you with tired eyes.

-You nodded, and he swallowed.

-'Atta boy.'

-With Tengen's exit, you looked down at Gyutaro, dripping and still woefully hard. You pulled his messy hair back into a ponytail once more.

-'oh honey... when did I say you'd be fucking me tonight?'

-'Do I- Do I get to fuck you now?' He'd croak, trying to ignore the completely beer ridden piss on his lips. You looked at him so pathetically. It made his cock ache even worse than it already did.

-He could tell he wasn't going to get what he wanted before you even opened your mouth.

[vidavalor]

Hello!

This is random but I remembered your posts regarding The Situation with NG’s involvement in Good Omens when one of my followers on Twitter tweeted a screen cap of an old conversation on bluesky where Neil sorta confirms Amazon had pulled back his influence on production from S1 so there’s a lot of truth in what you said

Hope you’re doing great! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hi there! 💕 Hope you're doing great yourself. I usually offer snacks but this is a large sherry or Talisker topic so *gets the glasses*...

That's interesting info-- thank you for sharing it. Like I was saying in that original post, I don't know any of that for sure but that was definitely the impression I was getting. One of the several reasons I was getting that impression was due to other, equally unprofessional posts like the one you're talking about here that speak to already-existing conflict with Amazon long before this particular Situation became publicly known.

I'm not sure why he'd be trying to fight the studio publicly like that if there's not something happening behind the scenes. It's just unprofessional. I was shocked when I saw posts like that because it's not like he was being a whistleblower to egregious behavior or something-- he was bitching about his boss and the budgets to fans on Tumblr. It feels like he was trying to use the fanbase as a shield to keep himself from being fired, as a way of saying "you can't get rid of me-- I will tell my fans you are the issue and they will believe me and not you and I have a million of them-- just look at my little Tumblr thing. You'll lose money if you don't back me."

You know what kind of guy does shit like that? The same kind that tells young women that no one is going to believe them because he's a famous, award-winning writer and they're nobody.

If you don't mind, I'm going to use your ask here for a moment to add a bit to what I was saying about Good Omens being a through-and-through Pratchett novel because I think it's important to remember that this story has another author here. I've had some people ask me to expound on that a bit. So, for anyone interested, this is what I mean when I say that Good Omens is a Pratchett novel:

As most of you probably know, most of the posts I write about Good Omens have to do with the use of language in the story. The diction in Good Omens is extremely specific. Its quirky word choice, its "gayer than a monkey on nitrous oxide"- type of wordplay? It's funny on the surface level and it's a whole other level of funny when you dig a bit deeper. The cleverness there is familiar to Pratchett readers, as it's part of the distinctive style of his other novels. As a writer who is a bit obsessed with etymology myself, I spotted his love for it right away in his writing. It's in every. single. one. of his books that I have read and I have read quite a few.

The exact same thing is in Good Omens. It's a really specific way of writing where word-related jokes are the vehicle for the humor and etymology-based diction choices are chosen with great precision and inform the piece on every level. Pratchett's signature style of writing came from the fact that he used etymology as a tool to help him convey the messages in his writing. The thematic connections he was making were supported by the complex histories of the key words around which he was forming his stories.

For example, there's a meta one of you asked me to write about the halo in S2 and, when you look at the etymology of the word, as we're going to do in that meta, you'll see that halo comes from discus and discus is the root of discussion, the root of the word desk, and the ancient sport that is like ring toss. It was also the name of a threshing floor for oxen, which ties both to dancing and to the threshold of a door, like the bookshop entry. By the time we get through looking at this one, key word of halo, we're going to have taken this whole trip-- through other discs-- the magic ring trick, record albums, Velvet Underground cds, etc., through what it means to dance to the ox ribs to what it means to have (or not have) a desk to what it means to talk through your frozen peas to what's up with the invitations into the bookshop. Good Omens is not random. Everything is very specifically chosen to work together to serve an overall story that is structured around using the etymology of words to underpin its meaning.

This is just one example and it's the same thing in the novel and S1. Much of the S2 stuff connects back to S1 & the novel. It's a story that loves words and it's a story that is threaded together, thematically, through being told by using very specific words and their histories. Good Omens is written like a Pratchett novel and feels like a Pratchett novel because it centers word history in exactly the same way as Pratchett does in his other novels.

You know where that halo thru-line that connects everything came from?

Discworld. It comes from Terry Pratchett's Discworld.

The same, core themes in his books are being explored, just in a slightly different way, in Good Omens and, often, using the same words in the exploration.

Because that's the thing-- all of these posts I'm writing about wordplay in Good Omens? I could, if I wanted to, also be writing them about any one of Pratchett's other novels, and a lot-- and I mean a lot-- of the specific words being used in a big way in Good Omens actually overlap with Pratchett's other books.

One of you has been waiting patiently for me to write about Mrs. Sandwich and the seamstress-themed language happening in the show and, to do that? We're going to not only talk about her and what she stands for in Good Omens but we're going to talk about the etymology jokes Pratchett was making with The Seamstress Guild in Discworld. Mrs. Sandwich might have been new in S2 but seamstress language is not-- it's baked into Crowley & Aziraphale's speak back in the novel and, as you'll see, there are instances of it in S1 and the novel that only become more apparent once you know to look for them after S2.

When NG said that, back in the day, he and Pratchett decided that Aziraphale should have a halo that was like a ring toss-- no.

Pratchett decided that.

The idea comes from the wordplay that is literally *in the title* of his own book series. Aziraphale's halo is related to why Pratchett's series is the Discworld. It's the same ideas. NG has fuck all to do with it.

Think about how I was just saying that all this love of etymology that is in Good Omens is also throughout Pratchett's books and is the driver of his word choice in all of them.

Now? Ask yourself who came up with Crowley and Aziraphale's secret language. Whose idea was it that it be so punny and etymology-based?

Probably the guy who wrote all of those etymology-based, other books.

Who invented the rules for that language?

Probably the guy who wrote all of those etymology-based other books.

If Pratchett wrote basically nothing but intentionally, lovingly, word-nerdy books... and if Good Omens is, soup-to-nuts, a love letter to etymology to a point that its main characters have a secret language built around it, then Terry Pratchett is who really wrote Good Omens. He's the true author of the book.

There are even interviews that show they had much different takes on how the process for the book happened. Pratchett, in one of the ones I read, said he wrote more than 2/3rds of the books straight up on his own and that he'd have phone calls with NG before NG wrote his bits of it and something politely vague to the effective of 'editing over' when writing the next chapter. In the same paragraph where he said he wrote more than 2/3rds of the book, he also said with all that discussion happening "who can say" who really wrote what-- yeah, exactly. It sounded a bit like NG needed the phone call to be told what to write on his end and then Pratchett edited it/rewrote bits of it before he wrote the next bit.

It comes off sounding like this book was like a partnered school project where Pratchett was the diligent one who did all the work himself so it would get done and be actually good and then assigned a bit of it to NG to do that he then had to go and fix so they'd get a decent grade. I wasn't there so I don't know but that's a bit like what the Pratchett interviews about it sound like to me and I'm much more inclined to believe Pratchett's view on their process than I am NG's take.

All I know is that Good Omens was successful when it was first published and any even moderately successful book makes publishing houses jump up and say "MORE NOW" and if you were those publishing houses? And you had a popular project with two writers? And one of the writers became tragically ill? You know what you'd do?

You'd eventually ask the other writer to finish the series.

It is known that a trilogy was planned from the start, which makes sense because most books are planned that way. You actually have to rough outline the entire story arc and then divide it amongst the books first. The story already existed in full when Pratchett began to get sick. Never-- in over two decades-- did anyone ever go to NG and ask him to both honor Pratchett and make them some cash by writing the rest of the trilogy?

Not even with how popular this book is?

That seems pretty suspicious to me.

Like a 'they know NG didn't really write it' kind of suspicious.

When both the publishing houses and the tv studios seem to be doing handstands to minimize his involvement with it, I'm thinking it's not too wild to infer there that it's because he never really wrote much, if any of it, in the first place.

More to the point? They know he's incapable of emulating it.

Because he's no Terry Pratchett.

[fuqnia]

college AU! stan x fem bodied YN

stan and yn are reallyyy close friends, like REALLY close, to the point of kissing eachother sometimes. at this point, him and wendy are not a thing (unless you do poly and we could get some poly action, if not thats fine) and stan and YN like eachother romantically. stan knows he likes them but hasn't come to terms with it, while YN themselves are oblivious to their OWN crush on him because they don't understand their own feelings most the time.

can YN also be a brat (like maybe kind of stuck up and prissy) and also be flirty with people they're comfortable with?

that personality leads me to this: stan snapping and ends up fucking them (maybe confrontational? like, holds their cheeks and asks them if they're even aware how they make him feel, so fuzzy, but also so so so mad! (in a good way of course)

can i have themes of dom/sub (dom stan/sub YN), brat taming, light degradation with heavy praise, impact play?(if you're not comfortable with this one thats fine, i was just thinking maybe spanking of the ass, thighs, and clit), edging, orgasm control, dacryphilia, overstimulation, heavy teasing, and overall just mean but also super soft stan?

thankss (if this request makes you uncomfortable then thats okay)

stan marsh x fem!reader insert (college au)

(╥﹏╥) | [A/N] ah my first request ever! this is kinda long for a request, but i wanted to make it special. i'm so sorry for butchering dom/sub dynamics, i haven't really written that yet. and jesus christ i made stan talk alot in this, and i really highlighted how he would definitely wear tons of bracelets for some reason LMAO. again this was a challenge for me bcus i usually write stan kinda softish and quiet. thank u again <3 there's a scene where stan just goes on his phone during the middle of it and i almost died writing it was so funny to me

(╥﹏╥) | [CW] p in v, fingering, p eating, dom/sub dynamics, dacryphilia, edging, overstimulation assholeish stan and reader, cartman is cartman

The room was dimly lit, illuminated mostly by the soft glow of Stan’s TV screen as he sat cross-legged on the floor, completely immersed in his game. Faint sounds of gunfire and laughter from Cartman and Kenny filtered through his headset. Stan leaned forward slightly, his hands gripping the controller tightly, his brows furrowed in concentration.

On the bed, you sighed loudly, barely glancing up from your phone as you continued scrolling through TikTok and Instagram. The endless feed of videos and posts did little to distract you from the heavy boredom pressing down on you.

You switched apps, opening Snapchat out of sheer desperation for something interesting. As you flipped through stories, your scrolling halted abruptly at one that made your stomach twist.

Bebe and Clyde were out on another date. The photo Bebe posted showed their hands intertwined across a table, captioned: “My fave person 💕.”

Your chest tightened, an uncomfortable heat settling there. You didn’t know why it bothered you so much—it wasn’t like you were into Clyde or anything. Still, the jealousy gnawed at you, bitter and unshakable.

Shaking your head, you exited the app and glanced at Stan, who hadn’t once looked in your direction despite your exaggerated sighs. He was totally engrossed in his game, his headset cushioning his ears and his focus glued to the screen.

“Stan,” you called out, your voice edged with impatience.

No response. His lips twitched slightly, like he might’ve heard you, but he made no effort to acknowledge your call.

You huffed, tossing your phone onto the bed. If Stan wasn’t going to pay attention to you willingly, you’d have to force his hand. Sliding off the bed, you walked up behind him and bent down, placing your hands lightly on his shoulders. Without hesitation, you slid into his lap, grinning as his body stiffened in surprise.

“[Y/N]—what the hell dude?” Stan sputtered, almost dropping his controller as he glanced down at you.

Cartman’s voice blared through his headset. “STAN, YOU DUMBASS! MOVE! YOU JUST GOT US KILLED!”

Stan groaned loudly, hastily muting his mic before turning his full attention to you. “I’m in the middle of a game!” he said, his tone exasperated.

You tilted your head, a playful pout forming on your lips. “Yeah, well, I’m bored,” you said, looping your arms around his neck. “Why aren’t you paying attention to me?”

Stan blinked, his expression caught somewhere between irritation and disbelief. “Because I’m playing with Cartman and Kenny? You know—my friends?”

“Uh-huh,” you said, your voice dripping with faux innocence. “But I’m more important than Cartman and Kenny, aren’t I?”

Stan stared at you, clearly unsure how to respond. His hands hovered awkwardly near your waist, his usual confidence suddenly replaced by uncertainty. “You’re being weird,” he said finally, his blue eyes narrowing slightly.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you leaned closer, your face only inches from his. “Weird? You’re so dramatic.”

Before he could reply, you closed the small distance between you and pressed your lips to his, your chapstick leaving a faint, sweet taste behind as you kissed him. It wasn’t unusual for you and Stan to kiss—your friendship had always had an element of playfulness—but this time felt different. The way your lips lingered a moment longer, the way your fingers curled lightly into the fabric of his hoodie...

You pulled back, giggling softly at the stunned look on his face.

Stan’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his blue eyes narrowing slightly as his grip on your hips firmed. His gaze burned with something intense, something unspoken that made your stomach flutter.

But then he exhaled sharply, his lips pressing into a thin line as he reached up and unmuted his mic. “I’m back,” he said curtly, his tone clipped as he picked up his controller and resumed his game.

You blinked, taken aback by his reaction. He didn’t push you off, didn’t say anything else—just continued playing as if you weren’t still perched in his lap.

Cartman’s voice crackled through the headset. “About time, dude. You literally lost us the game because you were being a dumbass.”

Stan didn’t respond, his focus locked on the screen. His hands gripped the controller, his movements precise and deliberate, but you could feel the tension radiating from him.

You shifted slightly in his lap, testing his reaction, but he didn’t budge. His jaw was still tight, his eyes fixed on the screen, though you caught the faintest twitch of his lips when you leaned in close and whispered teasingly, “Am I distracting you?”

Stan’s lips pressed into a firmer line, his knuckles whitening on the controller. “You’re fine,” he said evenly, though the edge in his voice betrayed him. His blue eyes stayed locked on the screen, his jaw tight, clearly trying to pretend you weren’t there.

Before he could stop you, you reached up and slipped the headset off his head.

“[Y/N], don’t,” Stan muttered, his voice tense, but you ignored him, slipping the headset onto your own head and adjusting the mic with a sly smile.

“Hey, idiots!” you chirped into the mic.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Cartman groaned immediately. “Why the hell are you here? Don’t you have something better to do, like annoying someone else or scamming free drinks with that dumb whore shit you pulll?”

“Cartman, don’t start,” Kenny chimed in, his tone amused. “She’s just here to make sure Stan doesn’t embarrass himself again.”

You laughed, leaning back in Stan’s lap and twirling the cord of the headset. “Aw, Kenny, you’re my favorite. Cartman’s just mad because he missed me.”

“I do not miss you,” Cartman snapped. “You’re like a human migraine. Stan, can you tell your ‘friend’ to fuck off so we can actually play?”

Stan muttered something under his breath, his hands hovering uselessly over the controller. “Give me the headset back, [Y/N].”

But you ignored him, turning your attention back to the game. “Eric, don’t lie. You love when I’m around. It makes your miserable little life less boring.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Cartman barked. “You’re just here to mess with us. And Kenny’s a simp for eating this up.”

“You’re right, I am,” Kenny said, laughing. “At least she’s fun. Unlike you, Cartman.”

“Fuck you, Kenny!” Cartman shot back. “Stan, seriously, can you control your fucking lap gremlin?”

Stan sighed heavily, his jaw clenching as he grabbed the headset off your head and slid it back on. His blue eyes bore into yours, his frustration clear. “Enough,” he said, his voice low and firm.

You blinked at him innocently, your lips twitching into a small smile. “What? I was just being nice.”

“Nobody buys that,” Stan muttered, his hands settling firmly on your waist. “Not even you.”

“Come on, I’m always nice,” you teased, your grin widening as you tilted your head.

Stan stared at you for a long moment, his blue eyes narrowing as though he were weighing his next move. Then, without a word, he unmuted his mic and picked up the controller again.

“I’m back,” he said flatly, his tone cold as he resumed playing.

“Thank God,” Cartman grumbled. “She’s insufferable. Get her out of here, Stan, or I’m rage-quitting.”

“She’s not that bad,” Kenny said with a laugh. “Honestly, she’s more entertaining than watching Stan suck at this game.”

Stan ignored them both, his eyes glued to the screen, though you noticed the way his grip on the controller tightened.

You stayed perched in Stan’s lap as he continued to play, his focus unwavering despite your presence. The faint sound of gunfire and Cartman’s incessant yelling filled the room, but your mind was elsewhere. Your fingers moved idly to his hair, combing through the strands and twisting them gently.

Stan’s bleached hair had grown out since you helped him with it, leaving a stark contrast between the blonde and his natural dark roots. You smiled faintly, remembering the day he let you bleach it in his bathroom. He’d been skeptical at first, grumbling about how “Cartman’s gonna call me a wannabe TikTok e-boy.”

But when you revealed the final result, the look of surprise on his face had been worth every moment.

“Holy shit,” he’d muttered, running a hand through the freshly bleached strands.

“See? Told you it’d look good dude,” you’d replied smugly. Then, on impulse, you’d pressed a kiss to his cheek, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

That kiss had been casual, friendly. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Your fingers stilled in Stan’s hair as the memory brought another one to the surface—the first time you’d kissed him. It was at a party, the two of you leaning against a wall in some corner, slightly buzzed from cheap vodka. Someone had said something stupid, and you’d both dissolved into laughter.

And then, without thinking, you’d leaned in and kissed him.

It hadn’t lasted long—just a brief press of lips, fueled by alcohol and laughter—but it had been enough to make your head spin. Stan hadn’t pulled away. If anything, he’d leaned in slightly, like he’d been waiting for it.

But the moment passed, and neither of you brought it up again.

Kissing Stan had become familiar since then. It was just... something you did. A casual thing. Or at least, that’s what you convinced yourself.

Your gaze shifted to his profile now, the faint concentration lines between his brows as he played. The glow from the screen lit up his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the soft curve of his lips. You couldn’t help but wonder: Did he ever think about those kisses? Did he feel the same pull you did, the strange comfort of it?

The thought made your chest tighten.

Do you like me?

The question lingered in your mind, unspoken and heavy. Stan had always been a constant in your life—steady, dependable, the one who tolerated your bratty tendencies without complaint. But did he like you?

And more importantly... did you like him?

Your fingers resumed their gentle movement in his hair, your heart beating a little faster as you struggled to untangle your thoughts. Kissing Stan didn’t feel like it should mean anything. But lately, you couldn’t stop wondering if it did.

“You okay dude?” Stan’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. He didn’t look at you, his eyes still on the screen, but the concern in his voice was clear.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Just... thinking.”

Stan nodded, his expression unreadable. “You’re quiet.”

You let out a soft laugh, brushing your fingers through his hair one last time before resting your hands on his shoulders. “Guess I’m just tired.”

“Mm-hmm,” Stan muttered, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t press further.

You leaned back slightly, watching him play, the weight of your thoughts settling heavily in your chest.

You shifted slightly in Stan’s lap, your fingers still playing with his hair when your phone buzzed on the bed. The sudden noise made you glance over, and Red’s name lit up the screen.

“Oh, hold on, it’s Red,” you said, slipping off Stan’s lap. He didn’t respond, just kept his eyes glued to the game.

You grabbed your phone, swiping to answer as you perched on the edge of Stan’s desk.

“Hey, Red!” you greeted, your voice instantly bright and flirty.

“About time,” Red said, her tone teasing. “So, are you gonna tell me why you’ve been off the grid? And don’t say it’s because you’re studying babe—I know better.”

You laughed, glancing at Stan out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, you know me. Always finding ways to entertain myself. I’m at Stan’s dorm right now.”

Red let out a dramatic gasp. “Stan? Again? Wow, you two might as well move in together at this point.”

Stan’s fingers faltered briefly on the controller, but he didn’t look away from the screen.

“Right? It’s like we’re married already,” you joked, leaning back and toying with the edge of Stan’s desk.

Red cackled. “God, you two are so weird. What’s he doing? Ignoring you like always?”

“Yup,” you said, your voice dripping with fake indignation. “He’s playing his stupid game. As usual.”

Stan adjusted his headset slightly, the earcups slipping off one ear now. He didn’t say anything, but you could tell he was listening.

“Honestly,” you continued, keeping your tone light, “it’s kind of tragic how bad he is at multitasking. Like, he can only focus on one thing at a time. I bet if I disappeared, he wouldn’t even notice until he lost the match.”

Red let out a snort. “Come on, [Y/N]. Give him some credit. He’s not that bad. And you’re always hanging around him anyway, so clearly he’s doing something right.”

“Eh,” you replied, smirking. “He’s tolerable. Most of the time.” You glanced at Stan again, noting the way his jaw tightened slightly.

“And?” Red prompted. “What about when he’s not tolerable?”

You grinned mischievously, the words spilling out before you could stop yourself. “When he’s not tolerable? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just trade him in for someone better.”

Stan froze. His hands stopped moving, and the room went silent except for the sound of Cartman and Kenny yelling through his headset.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Red asked, her voice curious but amused.

Before you could answer, Stan stood abruptly, pulling off his headset and letting it rest on the chair. He crossed the room in three long strides, his presence making the small dorm feel even smaller.

“Red, I’ll call you back,” you said quickly, hanging up before she could respond.

Stan loomed over you now, his blue eyes dark and unreadable. He reached past you and pressed the power button on his PS5, the room falling into silence as the screen went black.

“What the fuck was that?” he asked, his voice low but tight with frustration.

You blinked up at him, playing innocent even as your heart raced. “What was what?”

“Don’t play dumb, [Y/N],” Stan said, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. “That shit you said to Red. What the hell was that about?”

Stan stared down at you, his blue eyes sharp as he waited for an explanation. You leaned back slightly against the desk, tilting your head innocently as you blinked up at him.

“What?” you said, feigning confusion. “I was just talking to Red about how you’re my bestest friend in the whole world.” You clasped your hands together dramatically, flashing him a teasing grin. “She loves hearing about how much I adore you.”

Stan’s jaw clenched, his brows furrowing deeper. “Your ‘bestest friend,’ huh?” he repeated, his tone skeptical, edged with something darker. “Because that’s exactly how it sounded.”

You shrugged, letting out a playful laugh. “I mean, come on, Stan. Red knows you’re my favorite. I was just hyping you up, obviously.”

“Hyping me up?” His voice was low, incredulous. “You told her you’d trade me in for someone better.”

You waved a dismissive hand, still playing up your act. “Oh, that? That was just a joke. You know I didn’t mean it.”

Stan stepped closer, his hands braced on either side of you against the desk. The space between you disappeared, and his intense gaze locked onto yours. “Do you ever think before you open your mouth?” he asked, his voice calm but heavy with tension. “Or do you just say shit for the fun of it?”

The teasing grin faltered on your lips for a split second before you forced it back into place. “Relax, Marsh,” you said lightly, though your pulse quickened under the weight of his stare. “You’re taking this way too seriously.”

Stan’s head tilted slightly, his jaw tightening as he studied you. “Am I?” he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less commanding. “Because it’s starting to feel like you’re trying to get a rise out of me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you refused to let it show. “Me?” you said with mock innocence, batting your lashes. “Why would I ever do that?”

Stan didn’t answer right away. His eyes flickered down to your lips briefly before meeting your gaze again, the tension between you crackling like static electricity. His presence was overwhelming, and you suddenly became acutely aware of how close he was, how his body practically boxed you in against the desk.

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered finally, his voice low and rough.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. For once, the teasing remark you had ready in your head didn’t make it past your lips. The intensity in Stan’s eyes held you in place, your heart pounding in your chest as the air between you grew heavier.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and unrelenting, as you blinked up at Stan, trying to piece together what exactly had him so worked up. Sure, you’d teased him plenty of times before—this wasn’t new—but something about tonight was different. He wasn’t just annoyed; he was genuinely mad, and it caught you off guard.

“Stan,” you said, your voice softer now, though still carrying that teasing edge. “Why are you so mad? We’re friends. We do this all the time!”

Stan’s brows knit together, his jaw tightening as he took a slow breath. “Friends,” he repeated, his voice low and almost to himself, like he was testing how the word felt on his tongue. He leaned back slightly, straightening up, but his hands stayed braced on the desk, keeping you effectively trapped. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” you asked, tilting your head in genuine confusion. “We joke around like this all the time. Why is it such a big deal tonight?”

Stan’s blue eyes flicked over your face, searching for something, but whatever he was looking for, he didn’t seem to find it. He let out a frustrated exhale, running a hand through his bleached hair, his fingers catching in the grown-out roots. “Jesus Christ, [Y/N],” he muttered, his voice tight. “You can’t just—”

He stopped himself, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he visibly struggled to keep his cool. For a moment, he looked like he was going to let it go, like he was going to step back and walk away from whatever was eating at him. But then his gaze snapped back to yours, and you saw the flicker of something raw and unresolved in his eyes.

“You don’t even realize what you do to me,” he said finally, his voice quiet but heavy, each word carefully measured.

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words hitting you like a freight train. “What I do to you?” you echoed, your brows furrowing as you tried to process what he was saying. “Stan, I—”

“You don’t get to act like this doesn’t mean something,” he interrupted, his tone sharper now, though his voice never rose above a low murmur. “You don’t get to sit in my lap, kiss me whenever you feel like it, say the shit you just said to Red, and then turn around and call me your ‘bestest friend.’” He spat the last words with a bitterness that made your chest tighten.

“I thought we were just... I mean, that’s just how we are,” you stammered, the confusion in your voice genuine. “We always mess around like that. It’s not—”

“It’s not just messing around for me,” he cut in, his voice breaking slightly at the end. He took a step closer, closing the gap between you again, his hands moving to grip the edge of the desk on either side of you. “I don’t think you even understand what the fuck you’re doing to me, [Y/N]. How you make me feel.”

Your heart was racing now, the weight of his words sinking in but not fully connecting in your mind. “Stan,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to make you feel—”

“You make me feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind,” he said, his voice strained, his blue eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach twist. “You waltz in here, act like you own the place, and... fuck. You make me feel so much, and then you just brush it off like it’s nothing. Like it’s some fucking game.”

Your lips parted, but no words came. You’d never seen Stan like this—so raw, so vulnerable—and it left you reeling. You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to explain that you hadn’t meant to hurt him, that you hadn’t even realized you were doing it.

“I... I didn’t know,” you whispered finally, your voice barely audible.

Stan’s eyes were sharp and unwavering, his frustration palpable as he leaned closer, boxing you in against the desk. “You didn’t know?” he echoed, his voice low and edged with disbelief. “Really? So, what about all those times you kiss me out of nowhere? Like at that party last month, when you were drunk and decided to make me your personal fucking experiment.”

Your heart raced, and your lips parted to defend yourself, but he didn’t give you a chance. He pressed on, his tone growing sharper. “Or what about when you sat in my lap at Kenny’s place during movie night and kept playing with my hair? You acted like it was nothing, like it didn’t mean a damn thing, even though everyone was staring.”

“It’s just how I am,” you said defensively, your voice trembling as you tried to process the weight of his words. “You know that! I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just... it’s just fun.”

“Fun?” he repeated, his jaw tightening as he let out a bitter laugh. “Dude, do you even hear yourself? You sit here, playing with me like I’m some toy, and you call it fun? Like it doesn’t fuck me up every single time you do it?”

“I didn’t realize—” you began, but he cut you off again, stepping closer until his face was inches from yours.

“Of course you didn’t,” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “Because you don’t think. You don’t stop for one goddamn second to think about how the shit you do might affect me.”

The weight of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. The air between you was heavy, charged with a tension you couldn’t name, and for the first time, you didn’t know how to talk your way out of it.

Stan’s gaze softened just slightly, though the frustration in his eyes didn’t fade. “You can’t keep doing this, [Y/N],” he said quietly, his voice raw. “You can’t keep acting like this is nothing, like I’m nothing.”

Your chest tightened, and you felt your breath hitch as the gravity of his words sank in. “Stan,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “I didn’t know you felt this way. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his blue eyes searching yours for something—an answer, an apology, a sign that you understood. But all he found was confusion and guilt, and it made his shoulders tense even more.

“I don’t think you even know what you want,” he said finally, his voice softer now but laced with frustration. “And maybe that’s the problem.”

The silence was suffocating, your chest tight with a mix of emotions you didn’t fully understand. Stan’s words hung heavy in the air, but something about them—something about the way he said you didn’t know what you wanted—set you off.

Your brows furrowed, and you straightened up, leaning closer to him, your voice sharp as you snapped, “Excuse me? You think you know me so well, Stan? That I don’t know what I want? Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t have a clue.”

Stan’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he stared at you. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asked, his tone low and simmering with barely restrained anger.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at him. “It means you don’t get to stand there and act like you’ve got it all figured out while calling me out for being confused. Maybe you’re just pissed because you’re too scared to deal with your own feelings.”

Stan’s lips pressed into a thin line, his blue eyes darkening as he took a step closer to you. The tension between you crackled like a live wire, and for a moment, you thought he was going to say something. Instead, he closed the distance in a single, deliberate motion, his hand gripping your wrist as he pulled you toward him.

“Stan—” you started, but the words were cut off as his other hand cupped the back of your head, dragging you into a searing kiss.

It wasn’t soft or tentative—it was fierce, overwhelming, and commanding, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that left you breathless. Your body instinctively leaned into him, your hands clutching at his shirt as the world seemed to tilt on its axis. His grip on you was firm, grounding, and you could feel the frustration and need pouring out of him in every movement.

Your heart raced, your head spinning as you pulled away from him. “Stan—”

“Stop,” Stan interrupted, his tone sharp as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward the bed. “You don’t get to play dumb about this. Not anymore.”

Your back hit the mattress before you could say a word, his body towering over you as he leaned down, his bracelets clinking faintly with the movement. His bleached hair fell into his eyes, messy and slightly damp with sweat, and his tan skin glowed in the low light of the room. His hands framed your face, steady but firm, his thumbs brushing over your warm cheeks as his intense gaze locked onto yours.

“You’ve been screwing with my head for months,” he started, his voice low but taut with emotion. “Kissing me like it’s no big deal, running your hands all over me, batting your damn eyelashes like... like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.” His jaw clenched, and he shook his head slightly, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

Your breath hitched, your lips parting to speak, but Stan didn’t give you the chance. “Don’t even try to tell me it’s ‘just you being you,’” he pressed, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t get it, do you? How much you get to me.”

His lips crashed into yours, silencing whatever excuse or explanation was forming in your head. The kiss was heated, desperate, and when he pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his face inches from yours. A string of saliva broke between you as he spoke, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “You make me feel insane, [Y/N]. Like I don’t know which way is up.”

Your eyes widened as he cupped your cheek more firmly, his thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth. His brow furrowed, and his voice softened, tinged with an almost hesitant vulnerability. “Have you even thought about it? What it’s like to be me? To deal with this—deal with you?”

You opened your mouth, unsure of what to say, but Stan wasn’t finished. He shook his head, running a hand through his messy bleached hair and laughing humorlessly. “You’re so fucking clueless. You act like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t matter. But it does. It matters to me.”

His words hit you hard, a swirl of emotions rising in your chest—guilt, confusion, and something deeper that you hadn’t yet put a name to. “Stan...” you started, your voice trembling, but he cut you off again, his hand moving to gently grip your jaw, keeping your attention fixed on him.

“You make me feel so good sometimes,” he admitted, his voice raw and quieter now, almost like it was a confession. “Like... like nothing else in the world matters. But then you turn around, and it’s like you’re trying to drive me insane.”

Your chest tightened as you stared up at him, your breath catching in your throat. The intensity of his words, the sheer weight of his emotions—it was overwhelming. But there was no mistaking the honesty in his gaze, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room.

He sighed, his frustration ebbing slightly, replaced with something softer. “You don’t get it, do you?” he said, shaking his head again, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “You don’t even realize what you do to me.”

“I...” You trailed off, your voice barely a whisper, the words you wanted to say slipping through your grasp. You didn’t know how to explain what you felt—didn’t even know if you understood it yourself.

Stan gave a soft, almost exasperated laugh, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “Of course you don’t,” he murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of fondness and frustration. “You never do.”

He leaned in, his forehead brushing against yours as his breathing steadied, his hand still cradling your cheek. “But you’re gonna figure it out, [Y/N]. You’re gonna figure it out real soon.”

Before you could respond, Stan leaned in again, his lips pressing against yours with a raw urgency that caught you off guard. His hand on your cheek softened, but his other arm wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you flush against him as if he couldn’t stand even an inch of distance. His bracelets clinked softly with the movement, grounding the moment in the quiet tension of the room.

His lips moved with an intensity that made your head spin, and he groaned low against your mouth, the sound sending heat coursing through you. But as his hand slid lower, you broke the kiss, a teasing smirk tugging at your lips. Stan’s brows furrowed instantly, frustration flashing in his blue eyes as you sat back, a little too smug for his liking.

“What now?” he asked, his voice sharp but low, like he was already bracing himself for whatever nonsense you were about to pull.

You tilted your head, your fingers playing idly with the hem of his t-shirt. “Wow, Stan,” you started, your tone saccharine and laced with mockery. “I didn’t know you were so desperate. Did I mess up your game that badly?”

His jaw ticked, the muscle flexing as he let out a short, humorless laugh. “Shut up,” he muttered, shaking his head. His hands rested on his hips for a moment, his bracelets sliding down his forearms, before he leaned in, his expression darkening.

“No, seriously,” you continued, undeterred, your teasing grin widening. “Do I need to apologize to Cartman and Kenny? Tell them their carry bailed ‘cause you couldn’t handle a little distraction?”

Stan’s patience snapped. His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, and before you could react, he yanked it over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. The motion left you momentarily stunned, blinking up at him as he loomed over you.

“Stan!” you gasped, more surprised than offended. “What the hell—”

“You wanted my attention?” he cut you off, his voice low, the edge in it sending a jolt through you. “Well, you’ve got it. So go ahead. Say whatever smart-ass thing you were about to.”

Your heart raced as his hands returned to your waist, his grip firm but not rough, pulling you closer. His expression was unreadable, a mix of annoyance, desire, and something deeper that made your stomach twist. The way his messy bleached hair framed his face, the soft flush on his tan skin, and the glint of his bracelets as he adjusted his grip—everything about him right now was so painfully, undeniably Stan, and it made your head spin.

You tried to think of something witty, something sharp, but the intensity in his gaze stole the words from your mouth. Sensing your hesitation, Stan let out a soft, dark chuckle, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “That’s what I thought,” he said, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

As if to emphasize his point, his hands slid up your sides, his touch firm but deliberate as his fingers grazed over the lace of your bra. His lips dipped to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses that left you shivering. When his teeth scraped lightly against your pulse point, you let out a soft moan, your nails digging into his arms.

“You think you’re so funny,” he muttered against your skin, his tone carrying just a hint of exasperation. “Always running that mouth, always pushing me. But when it comes down to it...”

Before you could respond, he pinched lightly at your side, just enough to make you gasp. The sound seemed to satisfy him, and his lips curved into a grin as he kissed his way down your neck. “You never know when to quit, do you?” he added, his voice softer now, almost like he was teasing himself more than you.

“I—” You tried to speak, but your voice faltered as his lips found the edge of your bra, his breath warm against your skin. His hands slid lower, gripping your hips as he pressed you back into the mattress, the weight of him anchoring you in place.

“You’re always so damn smug,” he continued, his tone quiet but sharp. His hand moved to cup your cheek again, tilting your head slightly so his lips hovered just over yours. “But you don’t have a clue what you’re doing, do you?”

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your heart racing from the heat in his words and the way his touch seemed to set your skin alight. “Stan...” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling.

“Shh,” he interrupted, brushing his thumb lightly over your bottom lip. “I don’t want to hear it. You’ve said enough.” His smirk softened slightly, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something vulnerable in his expression. “Now it’s my turn.”

Stan pulled his hand away from your mouth, his fingers brushing the strap of your bra as he met your gaze. His expression was sharp, almost unreadable, but there was something deliberate in the way his hand slid to your shoulder, gently pushing the strap down. He moved with an almost casual precision, like he wasn’t just savoring the moment but making damn sure you knew he was in control.

His lips found your neck again, his kisses slow and deliberate as the other strap slid down your arm. You shivered, the cool air against your skin making you hyperaware of every single touch, every bit of pressure from his hands. When his fingers reached the clasp of your bra, he hesitated just long enough to send your heart racing.

“You’re so quiet all of a sudden,” he muttered near your ear, his voice low and full of teasing disbelief. “What happened to all the shit you were saying earlier?”

Your cheeks burned, and before you could retort, he unhooked the clasp with an ease that made your breath hitch. He let the lace fall away like it was nothing, his hands immediately cupping your chest. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, his touch surprisingly tender for a moment—until he gave a sharp, calculated pinch that made you gasp.

“Yeah,” he said, his lips twitching into a smirk as he watched your back arch instinctively. “That’s what I thought.”

His grip stayed firm, his thumbs teasing the sensitive peaks of your chest as his lips trailed along your jaw, hot and deliberate. “All that attitude,” he murmured, the words spilling against your skin. “And now? Not a damn word.”

The heat in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips when he pinched again, rolling your skin between his fingers with just enough pressure to have you squirming under him.

He chuckled at your reaction, the sound low and rough as his lips made their way down to your collarbone. “Does this feel good?” he asked, the mock sweetness in his tone making your stomach twist in the best way.

You tried to form words, but all you managed was a breathy moan. His smirk deepened, his blue eyes flashing with a mix of satisfaction and that familiar intensity that made your chest tighten. 

His hands started to move, one sliding down your side with an almost lazy kind of purpose. His fingers brushed over your waist before dipping under the waistband of your panties. He paused there, just teasing the fabric, the rough pads of his fingers grazing your skin.

“Look at you,” he said, his lips curling into a faint smirk as his thumb toyed with the hemline. “All that confidence, all that fire—and now you’re just laying here, waiting for me to decide what happens next.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers dipped lower, brushing close enough to make your thighs tense. “Stan,” you whispered, your voice shaky, “please...”

His laugh was soft but laced with a kind of smug triumph that made your cheeks flush. “That’s better,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower as he let his fingers skim just a little closer to where you needed him. “See? You don’t always have to run your mouth.”

Your body arched toward him instinctively, the anticipation driving you mad, but his movements stayed deliberate, controlled. “Maybe you’re finally figuring out how this works,” he continued, his tone equal parts teasing and sharp. “Or maybe you’re just that desperate.”

Stan’s fingers hooked under the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down with an almost lazy slowness. The fabric slid down your thighs, the cool air biting against your heated skin as he tossed them aside without a second thought. His movements were deliberate, but there was nothing showy about it—he just knew exactly what he was doing.

He shifted back, the bed creaking slightly as he knelt on the floor in front of you. The sight made your stomach flip—a mix of nervousness and something much hotter. Propped up on your elbows, you stared down at him, your breath catching as the full picture came into view.

His messy bleached hair framed his face, dark roots peeking through like a signature Stan move—half careless, half effort. His lips, swollen and pink from earlier, twitched faintly into a smirk that was both boyish and entirely too knowing. His band t-shirt clung to his chest, the faded logo stretching every time he breathed, and his gray sweatpants hung just low enough to show a hint of the waistband of his boxers. The bracelets circling his wrists—random, colorful, maybe from some flea market—clinked lightly as he moved, his hands sliding up your thighs.

Stan leaned in, pressing his lips against the soft skin of your inner thigh. The warm graze of his breath against you sent a shiver up your spine, and you couldn’t stop the way your hips shifted forward, searching for more contact.

“Seriously?” you teased breathlessly, your voice cracking slightly but still laced with a hint of defiance. “You’re really gonna drag this out?”

His hands froze for a moment, his gaze snapping up to meet yours. His blue eyes burned, sharp with amusement, but there was a glint of something darker too—something that made your stomach twist. A slow, almost smug grin spread across his face.

“Still talking, huh?” he drawled, his voice low, edged with dry humor. “Bold of you, considering where you are right now.”

Before you could even think of a comeback, his fingers caught the lace of your panties and yanked them to the side with deliberate force. The motion left you exposed, and the cool air against your heated skin made you gasp.

Stan leaned in closer, his breath warm as it ghosted over your most sensitive spot. His gaze locked onto yours, and his smirk widened slightly, like he knew exactly how wrecked you were about to be.

“Guess I’ll have to shut you up,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. Then his mouth was on you.

The sensation sent a jolt of white-hot pleasure straight through you, your head tipping back against the bed as you let out a broken cry. His tongue moved slowly at first, tracing over you with an infuriating precision that made you squirm beneath him.

But when you tried to shift your hips, his hands clamped down on your thighs, holding you firmly in place.

“Don’t,” he said against your skin, his voice muffled but firm, sending vibrations through you. “You’re staying right where I want you.”

You whimpered, your nails digging into the sheets as his tongue worked you over. The wet heat of his mouth was relentless, alternating between gentle flicks and firm, lingering strokes that left you trembling. When he slid a finger inside you, slow and deliberate, your hips jerked against his hold despite yourself.

“Stan—fuck,” you gasped, your voice breaking as your chest heaved.

He chuckled softly, his fingers curling inside you in a way that made your head spin. “That’s what I thought,” he said, his voice filled with quiet confidence. “Not so mouthy now, huh?”

The mix of his teasing tone and his rough hands left you breathless, every nerve in your body alight. Just as the pleasure started to build, his thumb brushed over your clit, adding pressure in a way that had your thighs trembling.

You moaned loudly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as the sensation became overwhelming. And then his other hand moved sharply, pinching you directly on your clit.

“Shit—Stan!” you cried, your voice high and breaking as your body jerked from the sudden mix of pleasure and pain.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at you with that same infuriating smirk, his lips glistening, his blue eyes lit with mischief. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone mocking but light, as though this was all a joke to him. “You’ve got all the energy to sass me, but now you’re falling apart? That’s cute.”

His fingers stayed inside you, his movements unrelenting as he dragged you closer to the edge with maddening precision. Your hands fisted the sheets, your body arching toward him despite the overwhelming sensations.

“Stan, please—” you whimpered, your voice trembling as tears pooled in your eyes.

“‘Please,’” he mimicked softly, his voice laced with sarcasm. “That’s new.” His teeth grazed your thigh in a brief nip, and you let out another sharp cry.

Stan’s bracelets clinked faintly as his grip on you tightened, his hands firm against your skin as he kept you pinned exactly where he wanted. The sight of him—his messy bleached hair, his sharp jawline, his flushed face—burned itself into your memory, a perfect mix of control and smug satisfaction.

“Don’t stop,” you managed to choke out, the words barely audible between gasps.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice dipping into something darker, his lips brushing against the inside of your thigh. “I’m not stopping until I’ve got exactly what I want.”

Your breath hitched, and you couldn’t even think of a response. His mouth returned to you, his tongue and fingers working in perfect tandem as he pushed you higher and higher. The lingering sting of his pinch only heightened the sensations coursing through your body, leaving you a trembling mess.

Stan's tongue worked you with an intensity that left you breathless, each flick and swirl sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. When he added another finger, sliding it in with the same slow, deliberate motion as before, the stretch left you gasping.

"Stan—ah—I’m so close," you managed to whimper, your voice trembling as tears began to pool at the corners of your eyes. Your chest heaved, your body trembling as you clutched the sheets beneath you.

You sniffled, overwhelmed by the sensations, your head tipping back as your thighs quivered against his grip. "I’m—oh, God—Stan, I’m gonna come," you cried out, your voice cracking with desperation.

Stan’s mouth continued, his tongue teasing you with relentless precision while his fingers curled inside you, pushing you closer to the edge. You felt the pressure building, your entire body tensing as the release hovered just within reach.

And then he stopped.

Stan’s lips hovered over your inner thigh for a moment, his breath warm against your skin, before he pulled back entirely. His fingers left you aching and empty, and the absence was immediate and devastating. Your thighs trembled as you shifted, trying to seek out the friction you desperately needed, but Stan’s hands stopped you with a firm, grounding grip.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice low and steady, with a soft edge of finality that left no room for argument.

Your eyes widened, tears slipping freely now, as you whimpered, “Stan, please… I can’t—”

“You can,” he interrupted calmly, leaning back and sitting on his heels as he looked at you with a mix of frustration and quiet amusement. “You’ll survive. Trust me.”

Your chest heaved as you stared at him, every nerve in your body screaming for relief, but Stan only sighed softly, shaking his head. His messy, bleached hair fell into his eyes again, and he shoved it back carelessly before gripping the hem of his t-shirt.

Before you could say anything else, he tugged the shirt over his head in one smooth motion, tossing it aside. The motion revealed the toned lines of his chest and the faint tan that trailed down to the waistband of his sweatpants. His silver chain glinted against his skin, catching the dim light, and you couldn’t help but stare.

Stan raised an eyebrow, catching your gaze as he rested his forearms on his knees, casual but commanding. “You’re staring,” he said softly, his lips curving into a faint smirk.

Your throat felt dry as you tried to find your voice, but all that escaped was a soft whimper. Your hands clenched into the sheets beneath you, and the heat pooling in your stomach twisted painfully as you realized he had no intention of letting you off the hook.

“You’ll live,” Stan muttered again, his tone quiet but deliberate as he stood, giving you one last glance before turning toward his dresser. The lack of attention left you buzzing with frustration and need, but he didn’t seem to care—he was in complete control, and you were left to grapple with the fact that he intended to keep it that way.

Stan walked to his dresser with a lazy confidence, the kind that only made the heat pooling in your stomach worse. More of the hemline of his boxers showed now, and the muscles in his back shifted subtly as he grabbed his phone from the edge of the dresser. He scrolled aimlessly, his bracelets jangling faintly with each movement.

You stared, your breaths shallow, thighs pressing together in a futile attempt to calm the ache he’d left behind. He wasn’t even looking at you, completely unfazed, like he hadn’t just wrecked you moments ago. It made your chest twist—part frustration, part something you didn’t want to name.

“Stan,” you croaked, your voice cracking slightly, and he didn’t even flinch.

He scrolled for another beat, finally glancing over his shoulder at you, one eyebrow arching lazily. “What?” His tone was flat, indifferent, like you’d just interrupted him during an uneventful Tuesday.

Your lips parted, but nothing came out. You hated how small his lack of reaction made you feel, like the electric tension between you was entirely one-sided.

“I…” you started, but your gaze flicked down to his chest, to the light tan that lingered across his skin and the faint ridge of muscle beneath it. You swallowed hard, trying to piece together your thoughts, but the sight of him standing there— messy-haired, and so effortlessly unaffected—was enough to scramble everything in your head.

Stan sighed like you were being difficult and turned back to his dresser. His hand rifled through the top drawer, and when he pulled back, the foil wrapper of a condom glinted under the soft light.

Your stomach dropped, your body buzzing as he set the condom casually on the dresser, next to his phone. He leaned one arm against the edge, crossing his other hand over his chest, bracelets sliding slightly down his forearm as he glanced back at you.

“You gonna say something, or just keep staring like that?” he said finally, his lips quirking into a faint, cocky smirk.

Your cheeks burned, and you squirmed against the sheets, the ache between your legs sharpening as he stood there, fully in control. “I wasn’t staring,” you mumbled, barely convincing even yourself.

“Right,” Stan said, dragging the word out as he looked back at his phone, tapping the screen lazily. “Sure seemed like it from here.”

The way he brushed you off, so casual and maddening, made the knot in your chest tighten. Your eyes darted to the condom on the dresser, and the implications made your head spin. “Why’d you—” You stopped yourself, biting your lip as frustration prickled at the back of your neck.

“Why’d I what?” Stan drawled, not even bothering to look up this time.

“Y-you…” you faltered again, unsure if it was the tension in your chest or the growing need burning through your veins that had you so tongue-tied.

Stan finally turned, leaning fully against the dresser now, his arms crossed as he looked at you with a mix of amusement and exasperation. His bleached hair was a mess, dark roots peeking through as a few strands fell into his eyes. He shoved them back with one hand, his bracelets clinking faintly before crossing his arms again.

“You’ve been running your mouth all night,” he said, tilting his head slightly as he looked you over. “Now you’ve got nothing to say? Figures.”

You squirmed under his gaze, the heat in your cheeks spreading as you gripped the sheets tightly beneath you.

His smirk deepened, sharp and knowing. “C’mon, [Y/N], spit it out,” he said, his voice low and edged with sarcasm. “You’re looking at me like I’ve got all the answers.”

Your chest tightened, every nerve in your body buzzing as your lips parted again, but the words refused to form. The weight of his gaze, the way his tone was almost mocking but not cruel—it all left you reeling.

“I don’t know,” you whispered finally, the admission feeling heavier than it should.

Stan’s expression softened, just slightly, but his smirk didn’t fade. “Yeah, I got that much,” he said, his voice quieter now but still cutting. His sharp blue eyes lingered on you for a moment, reading you like an open book.

You swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise in your chest again as the knot of frustration and need twisted tighter. You glanced at the condom on the dresser again, and your voice broke as you murmured, “Why’d you grab that?”

Stan raised an eyebrow, his smirk shifting into something closer to amusement. “Why do you think?” he said plainly, like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your stomach flipped, and you bit your lip hard enough to sting as your gaze dropped to your hands clenched in the sheets. The teasing tilt in his tone, the sheer audacity of his calmness, made your head spin.

He pushed off the dresser and crossed the room in a few slow, deliberate steps, stopping just short of the bed. His sharp gaze bore into you as he leaned down slightly, his bracelets sliding further down his arms.

“Say what you want, [Y/N],” he said softly, the teasing edge in his voice tempered by something quieter, something steadier. “Or don’t. Either way…” His eyes flicked to the condom, then back to you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I-...” you trailed off, your breath catching as you forced yourself to look at him. And in that moment, it hit you all at once, sharp and undeniable.

You liked him.

Not just liked him—you wanted him, craved him in a way that made your heart race and your stomach twist. It hit you all at once: the teasing, the flirting, the way you got jealous over nothing—it wasn’t friendly banter. It was so much more.

Stan leaned against the dresser, his bracelets jingling faintly as he shifted his weight. The condom in his hand hung lazily between two fingers, and his blue eyes locked onto yours with that sharp, assessing look he always gave when he was trying to figure you out. “You… what?” he asked, the slightest tilt of his head adding to the edge in his voice.

Your chest tightened, the words bubbling to the surface before you could stop them. “I want you to come back to the bed.”

Stan’s brows lifted, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He swung the condom lightly, his voice dipping into a teasing drawl. “Oh, yeah? And what exactly do you want if I do?”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold his gaze even as heat crept up your neck. “I want to kiss you,” you admitted, your voice trembling but firm. “I need to.”

The smirk on Stan’s face faltered, replaced by something softer, more serious. He straightened slightly, the humor in his eyes fading as he stepped closer, the condom now forgotten at his side. “You need to kiss me,” he repeated, his tone lower, testing.

“Yes,” you said, barely above a whisper.

Stan’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, his lips quirking as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. He placed the condom on the bedside table and leaned down, his hands bracing on either side of you. His lips brushed yours, a soft, fleeting touch that left you breathless.

“You could’ve just said so earlier,” he muttered, and then his mouth pressed firmly against yours, stealing whatever response you might’ve had.

The kiss was different—no teasing smirks or playful jabs, just raw, unfiltered emotion. His hands cupped your face, tilting it slightly to deepen the kiss as his body pressed closer. You melted into him, your hands instinctively clutching at his bare shoulders as the heat between you grew.

Stan pulled back, his lips lingering just a breath away from yours, and his eyes searched yours like he was trying to piece together something important. “Do you even get what you’re doing to me?” he asked, his voice low and rough around the edges.

Your breath hitched, and you blinked up at him, your pulse thrumming in your ears. “I wasn’t sure what I felt,” you said softly, the words stumbling out. “But I know now. I—I want this. I want you.”

Stan’s gaze flickered, something vulnerable slipping through his usual guarded expression. His jaw worked for a moment, like he was chewing over your words, and then he let out a quiet breath, his hand sliding to cradle your face. “No more of this back-and-forth shit,” he said, his voice firmer now. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it for real. None of your games. No bullshit.”

“No games,” you echoed, your voice trembling but certain.

His lips curved into a small, lopsided smile, his thumb brushing against your jaw. “Good,” he said, his tone soft but resolute. His other hand settled on your waist, grounding you as he leaned in again, his forehead lightly bumping against yours. “Because I don’t think I can deal with you driving me up the wall anymore without this.”

Stan scooted back slightly, hooking his thumbs casually into the waistband of his sweatpants. His blue eyes stayed locked on yours, that familiar mix of irritation and amusement flickering in his gaze as he tugged them down just enough to reveal snug black boxer briefs. The way they hugged his frame left little to the imagination, and your eyes instinctively dropped, wide and unblinking.

“Wow,” you said quickly, your cheeks heating up as you scrambled to deflect. “Really going for the bold look tonight, huh? What’s the occasion?”

Stan raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a dry smirk. “Bold words coming from someone who keeps getting caught staring,” he shot back. His hands dropped to his hips, his stance casual, but the sharpness in his voice made your stomach flip.

“I wasn’t staring,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest in a weak attempt to look unbothered.

His laugh was short and incredulous, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Yeah, sure. Totally convincing.” He shoved his sweatpants down the rest of the way with an almost careless motion, stepping out of them as they pooled at his feet. Now just in his boxer briefs, he took a slow step forward, looming over you with that same unimpressed look that made you squirm.

“You’ve got a smart mouth,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “Always running it, even when you’re caught red-handed.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but before you could get a single word out, he was climbing onto the bed. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart effortlessly, the weight of his body leaving you pinned beneath him. The shift in dynamic was immediate, leaving you breathless as his blue eyes bore into yours, sharp and unrelenting.

“You think you’re funny?” he continued, his voice low and cutting, each word sinking into the tension between you. His thumbs brushed dangerously close to your panties, the teasing touch sending a jolt through your already-overheated body. “Making little comments like that when you’re already soaked? What exactly are you trying to pull here?”

“I wasn’t—” you started defensively, but your words faltered when his fingers trailed up, pressing against the damp fabric of your panties with maddening precision.

“Wasn’t what?” he pressed, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. His voice dipped lower, taking on a mocking edge that sent shivers down your spine. “Wasn’t wet? Wasn’t about to beg me? Careful, [Y/N]. You keep lying to my face, and I might just leave you like this all night.”

Your breath hitched, and you instinctively shifted your hips, trying to get more of his touch. But his grip on your thighs tightened, keeping you firmly in place. He pulled back just enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his smirk sharp and unforgiving.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his tone soft but cutting. “That’s what I thought.”

He pushed himself back onto his heels, dragging his boxers down in one smooth motion. When he stood again, his cock stood hard and flushed, and the sight made your breath catch in your throat. Without thinking, your hand reached out to touch him, but he caught your wrist before you could get close.

“Seriously?” he said, his voice carrying that familiar edge of sarcasm that was so uniquely Stan. He shook his head, letting out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “You’ve been running your mouth all night, and now you think you get to do whatever you want? Cute.”

His free hand came up to grip your cheek, not hard enough to hurt but firm enough to make your lips part slightly. “Look at me,” he said, his blue eyes locking onto yours. His tone was steady, but there was a flicker of frustration behind it, a heat that had your stomach twisting. “You’ve been pushing me all night, and now you’re just gonna sit there and wait until I’m good and ready. Got it?”

Before you could respond, he reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the condom, his movements deliberate. The soft crinkle of the wrapper made your thighs clench instinctively, but he caught the motion immediately, his eyes flicking down and then back up to yours with a faint smirk.

“You talk a big game,” he said, rolling the condom on with an unhurried precision that made your pulse race. “Guess we’ll see if you can actually handle it.”

He leaned back over you, his hands sliding deliberately up your sides before settling on your hips, his grip strong and grounding. His gaze stayed fixed on yours, his expression calm but charged with something unmistakably hungry.

“I—”

Stan cut you off, his hand pressing firmly but not harshly on the back of your head, guiding you down toward the mattress. “Don’t,” he muttered, his voice low and edged with exasperation. The motion wasn’t rough, but it carried no room for argument. He wasn’t playing around anymore.

You turned your head slightly, trying to catch his eye, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout as your manicured nails reached for his arm. “Stan,” you whined softly, dragging out his name in that teasing tone you knew got under his skin.

Instead of rising to your bait, he let out a short, dry laugh, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you were still at it. “You don’t know when to stop, do you?” he said, his voice carrying that familiar sarcastic bite. Without waiting for a response, his hands gripped your hips, shifting you until your head was down against the bed and your ass was up, fully exposed. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, as if he wanted to draw out every second of the tension until it was unbearable.

Stan’s fingers skimmed lightly over your back, trailing down to the curve of your hips. His touch lingered, warm and steady, before his grip tightened enough to ground you. He leaned in just enough for his voice to reach your ears, low and steady, the faintest edge of a smirk in his tone.

“Look at you now,” he said, his words cutting through the thick air between you. “All that talk, and suddenly you don’t have much to say.”

His hands stayed firm on your hips as he lined himself up with you. The weight of his cock against your entrance made your breath hitch, and before you could brace yourself, he pushed forward in one smooth, deliberate motion. The stretch burned, sharp and overwhelming, and your gasp turned into a broken cry as he seated himself fully, leaving no space between you.

Stan didn’t move right away. He stayed buried inside, letting you feel every inch of him as his hands kept you still. The weight of his body, the heat of his skin, the way he held you—it was all-consuming. Tears pricked at your eyes from the sheer intensity of it.

“You’re awful quiet,” he muttered after a moment, his voice low and thick, almost casual. “What happened to all that attitude, huh? Thought you had something smart to say.”

A choked whimper escaped you, and you turned your head slightly, trying to meet his gaze through your tear-blurred vision. Stan’s face was flushed, his messy bleached hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at you with a mix of irritation and smug satisfaction. That familiar smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, sharp and knowing, as if he could see right through you.

When you tried to shift your hips, seeking even the smallest bit of relief, his hands clamped down harder, holding you in place. “Uh-uh,” he said, his voice cutting through your quiet protests. “You don’t get to squirm your way out of this. You wanted me back here so bad, right? So take it.”

Your breath hitched again as you buried your face in the mattress, your muffled cries betraying how much you were feeling. “S-Stan…” you hiccupped, your voice trembling, barely able to form his name.

He leaned over you, his chest brushing against your back, his lips close to your ear. “Oh, now you’re playing the soft card?” he murmured, his tone dripping with mock pity. “Too late for that, sweetheart. You’ve been running your mouth all night, and now you’re gonna deal with what you started.”

As if to punctuate his words, he pulled back slightly and then thrust forward again, slow but deep, the motion stealing the air from your lungs. He didn’t let up, finding a deliberate rhythm that left you clawing at the sheets beneath you, every thrust making your body tremble.

“You know,” he said, his voice almost conversational despite the roughness of his movements, “you’re always so damn sure of yourself. Always pushing, always testing me.” He paused, his hips snapping forward harder, making you cry out. “But now? Now you’re not so cocky, are you?”

Tears slipped freely down your cheeks as you tried to keep up, your mind spinning from the overwhelming mix of sensations. When you tried to speak, to form even the smallest response, the words dissolved into broken moans, leaving you completely at his mercy.

Stan noticed, of course. He always noticed. “Aw, what’s wrong?” he teased, his voice softer now, but still carrying that playful edge. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, his lips warm and teasing against your skin. “Too much for you already?”

You managed a shaky nod, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as your body trembled beneath him. His laugh was soft, almost cruel, as he trailed another kiss along your jawline. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low but filled with satisfaction. “Maybe now you’ll think twice before trying to mess with me.”

Despite the tears pooling in your eyes, your body betrayed you, rolling your hips back into him as best you could, chasing the pressure and the sensation. Stan let out a quiet groan at your reaction, his hands gripping your waist tighter.

“See?” he said, his tone shifting to something gentler but still laced with control. “You can be good when you really try.”

Stan’s movements faltered slightly, his hands gripping your hips as he took in the way your body responded to him. His lips quirked into a soft smirk, but his blue eyes betrayed something deeper—intensity mixed with that familiar, slightly sarcastic glint that was so him.

“Damn,” he muttered, his voice low and husky. “You’re really losing it, aren’t you?”

You whimpered in response, unable to form words, your head pressed into the mattress. Stan leaned forward, his breath warm against your shoulder, and chuckled softly. It wasn’t mean—it was teasing, familiar, the same way he always had been, but now it carried the weight of everything happening between you.

“That good, huh?” he murmured, his voice dipping just enough to make your breath hitch. “All this, just from me?”

Your body clenched around him at his words, and his sharp intake of breath was proof he noticed. He paused, his hips pressed flush against you as his hand trailed up your back, coaxing a soft arch from your spine.

“Okay, okay,” he teased, his tone shifting, dripping with playful sarcasm now. “You don’t have to answer. You’re kind of... busy.” He punctuated his statement with a slow roll of his hips, drawing a gasp from your lips.

Stan groaned quietly, his head dipping closer to your ear. “Jesus, you’re soaking me,” he said, his voice breaking slightly at the edges. “I didn’t think you could get any better, but here we are.”

His praise made your chest tighten, heat flooding through you as your mind spun. He caught the way your moans grew louder, how your body tensed with every soft word that slipped from his lips.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” he asked, his voice dripping with curiosity, with that cocky-but-genuine air only Stan could pull off. “You like when I tell you how good you are?”

Your response was a broken whimper, your nails clawing at the sheets as you tried to ground yourself. Stan’s laughter was soft, almost affectionate, as his fingers trailed down your side, his other hand gripping your hip tightly to keep his rhythm steady.

“Yeah,” he said softly, his voice dropping. “Of course you do. Why wouldn’t you? You’re fucking perfect.”

His words sent a shudder through you, and he felt it, his smirk widening as he leaned forward again. “I mean it,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before biting down gently, making you gasp. “You’re driving me insane in the best way.”

You let out a choked sob, the intensity of his praise, his rhythm, and his control overwhelming you completely. Your legs trembled beneath you as your body clenched around him, and Stan groaned, his own composure slipping slightly.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse now. “That’s it. Just like that. Keep doing that, baby. You’re perfect.”

His words pushed you closer to the edge, your mind hazy with arousal and emotion. Tears slipped from your eyes, and you gasped his name, your voice trembling as you tried to hold on.

“Stan,” you managed to whisper, your tone pleading and raw.

Stan’s pace faltered for a split second when he heard your shaky voice break through the heavy rhythm of your breathing. His blue eyes darted down to you, catching the way tears spilled down your cheeks, your lips trembling as you turned your head away from the pillow to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, voice thick with emotion as you sniffled, your body trembling beneath him.

Stan’s brows furrowed, his jaw clenching, though his movements didn’t let up. If anything, his pace grew more purposeful, his hips snapping into yours as his hands gripped your waist tightly, grounding you to him.

“Sorry?” he asked, his voice low, strained. “What are you apologizing for, huh?”

Tears streaked your flushed cheeks, your lips trembling as you gasped, “F-for earlier. For... everything.”

Stan let out a breathy laugh, the sound edged with something almost disbelieving, his forehead falling forward slightly as he leaned over you. “You’re apologizing now?” he asked, his tone teasing but not unkind, his words brushing against the shell of your ear as he kept moving. “Right when you’re about to come? Really convenient timing dude, don’t you think?”

You let out a choked sob, your body clenching around him as you struggled to keep your gaze locked with his. “I-I mean it,” you said, your voice breaking as your chest heaved, every nerve in your body alight.

Stan’s lips quirked into a crooked smile, his expression softening for a moment before his hands slid up your body, one moving to your face to cup your cheek. His thumb brushed away a stray tear as his eyes bore into yours, his tone quieter now but no less intense.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice rough but gentle, “I know you mean it. But I’m not letting you off that easy.”

Your eyes widened, another soft cry escaping you as his thrusts grew deeper, hitting the perfect spot that had you unraveling. “S-Stan, I... I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he said, cutting you off, his voice dropping even lower, his thumb tracing slow circles over your cheek. “I can feel it. You’re so fucking close, aren’t you?”

You nodded desperately, your fingers clawing at the sheets as your entire body tensed. Tears blurred your vision as you whimpered, “Please.”

Stan groaned softly, his gaze unwavering as he pressed a firm, almost possessive kiss to your lips. “Then come for me,” he commanded, his voice dripping with authority, his hand gripping your jaw to keep you focused on him. “Right now. I want to see you fall apart.”

And with his words ringing in your ears, you did.

Stan’s movements didn’t falter as he kept driving into you, his relentless rhythm drawing ragged whimpers and muffled cries from your lips. His hand stayed firm on your chin, holding your gaze as though daring you to look away. His messy, grown-out bleached hair stuck to his forehead in damp strands, the pale locks contrasting sharply with his slightly tanned skin. The bracelets on his wrists—simple bands and one woven with multicolored threads—shifted and caught the light with every powerful thrust, his forearms flexing with the effort.

The sight of him was dizzying. His swollen lips parted slightly as his breaths came heavy, a sheen of sweat making his skin glisten under the warm dorm lighting. It was impossible not to stare, the sharp cut of his jawline and the faint dusting of pink across his cheeks making him look so effortlessly gorgeous, so thoroughly wrecked in the best way.

“God, you’re so tight,” he muttered, his voice strained as his hips snapped against yours. His free hand slid from your hip to grip your waist, his strong fingers digging into your skin to hold you steady. “I should be pissed at you right now, but—fuck—how am I supposed to stay mad when you’re like this?”

You tried to respond, your lips parting, but all that came out was a cracked moan as he hit just the right spot again. Gathering your nerve, you attempted to form words, the teasing edge in your tone still managing to peek through your overstimulated haze. “I-I was just gonna say—”

Stan cut you off immediately, his blue eyes narrowing as a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “Nope. Not this time.” He shoved two fingers into your mouth without hesitation, the pads of his fingers pressing down on your tongue firmly enough to silence you. “You wanna say something? Too bad. You’re done talking.”

Your wide-eyed stare and muffled protests only spurred him on. His bracelets shifted again as he adjusted his grip, his thumb brushing across your cheek almost tenderly, contrasting the raw intensity in his movements. “God, you’re such a mess,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. “Look at you—tears running down your face, trying to act like you’ve got something smart to say. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Your moan around his fingers was muffled but unmistakably needy, your body trembling under the onslaught of sensation. The fire pooling in your stomach grew unbearable as Stan’s relentless pace brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“Bet you love it,” he rasped, his head dipping closer as he brought his lips to your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as his hips slammed into yours again. “You can’t get enough, can you? Always pushing, always testing me. And now look where it’s gotten you.”

The warmth of his skin, the weight of his body pressing you down, the unrelenting heat in his gaze—it was overwhelming. You whimpered helplessly around his fingers, your eyes locking with his again, and Stan groaned low in his throat, the sight of you so thoroughly wrecked beneath him pushing him closer to the brink.

“You look so good like this,” he muttered, his voice barely above a growl. “Completely mine.”

His pace faltered slightly, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased his own release, his bleached hair falling into his eyes. But he didn’t let up, his free hand sliding down to grip your thigh and pulling you even closer. “Keep looking at me,” he ordered, his voice hoarse but firm. “Don’t you dare look away.”

Stan’s thrusts slowed, his body trembling as he reached his peak. A guttural moan tore from his throat, raw and unfiltered, as his head tipped back, his bleached hair clinging to his damp skin. His grip on your thigh tightened for a moment before his movements stilled completely, his chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths.

For a few seconds, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your labored breathing and the faint hum of the dorm room fan. Stan stayed still, his hands resting on your hips, holding you close as he caught his breath. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face flushed with exertion, and the weight of his release seemed to hit him all at once.

When he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you, there was a flicker of something in his expression—hesitation, maybe even embarrassment. His gaze softened, and his lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he gave a faint, almost self-conscious chuckle, his hand brushing lightly over your waist as though grounding himself.

“Shit,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, more to himself than to you. His blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, he looked almost abashed, his usual cocky demeanor stripped away entirely. “You… okay?”

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and you nodded, your lips parting to respond, but your voice came out in a whisper. “Yeah.”

Stan exhaled a quiet laugh, running a hand through his messy hair as he pulled back slightly, his movements careful, almost tentative. He reached out to the bedside table, grabbing a tissue and leaning back down to press a quick, soft kiss to your temple. “Good,” he muttered, his voice still tinged with that uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I—I didn’t mean to get so…”

He trailed off, shaking his head slightly as if trying to shake off the unspoken thought. His cheeks were still faintly flushed, his bracelets clinking softly as he adjusted his grip on your waist to help steady you. The moment was quieter now, the intensity replaced with something gentler, almost uncertain.

Stan’s fingers brushed over your cheek lightly, his gaze searching yours. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his brows furrowing slightly.

Your heart twisted at the softness in his voice, and you reached up to cover his hand with yours. “I’m okay, Stan,” you said, your voice steadier now. “Promise.”

He gave a small nod, his lips pressing into a faint smile, though the flicker of uncertainty didn’t entirely fade from his eyes. “Good,” he said again, softer this time. Then, after a beat, he added with a wry smirk, “You… really know how to make things complicated, don’t you?”

There was a teasing edge to his words, but his tone was light, almost affectionate. It felt like Stan was trying to bridge the intensity of the moment with something more familiar, something easier to grasp.

Stan exhaled deeply, his forehead briefly resting against your shoulder as he worked to collect himself. When he pulled back, he shifted off the bed, peeling off the condom and tying it off before tossing it into the trash can. His bleached hair was even messier now, sticking to his damp forehead, and the soft jingle of his bracelets filled the quiet room as he reached for a tissue to clean himself up.

You stretched out languidly, turning your head to shoot him a teasing smirk. “So… does this mean you’re not mad anymore?”

Stan froze mid-motion, his head snapping to look at you. The exasperation on his face was instant, though it was laced with amusement. “Don’t start,” he warned, narrowing his eyes but failing to suppress the smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You grinned wider, propping yourself up on your elbows. “I mean, you seemed really mad earlier. Like dude, I was kinda scared for a second,” you said, your voice dripping with playful mockery. “But now? I think you’re just a big softie.”

Stan rolled his eyes, chuckling under his breath as he tossed the tissues into the trash with a flick of his wrist. “Keep talking, and I’ll show you how ‘soft’ I am,” he quipped, leaning over to lightly flick your forehead.

You pouted dramatically, rubbing the spot he’d flicked. “Abuse!” you teased, mock-gasping. “I’m gonna tell Red you’re bullying me.”

Stan shook his head, standing up to adjust his bracelets and reaching for his sweatpants. “You’re the worst,” he muttered with a laugh, grabbing the discarded blanket from the floor and tossing it over you. “Now shut up and go to sleep before you actually piss me off again.”

You laughed, pulling the blanket up to your chin as you watched him move around the room. The tension had completely dissolved, replaced with the kind of easy banter that seemed to define whatever the two of you had. Stan shook his head again, but you could see the faint grin on his face as he grabbed his phone off the dresser and flopped back down beside you.

i love red sm...

[lanawinterscigarettes]

OOPS my ask did go through omg 😭😭😭 it was the same thing so you don't have to answer it 😩 thank you!!!! I enjoyed the hcs so much...

a fun one i thought was a drabble/fic of rachel being extremely possessive and jealous so she doesn't just mark you with kisses but also writes that someone 🙂 is the property of miss rachel green

hehe thank u for indulging me - ✨️

you're very welcome! it makes me so happy to know you enjoyed it 🥰 I love all the requests you send in, so I really hope you like this one too 💕

Property of Rachel Green (Rachel Green x gn reader)

Warnings: jealous/possessive Rachel, not explicit smut but there's definitely suggestive elements involved, hickeys/marking kink

Rachel scowled as she watched you chat with one of your coworkers by the counter in Central Perk. She crossed her arms and slumped down further in her spot on the couch, trying to ignore the tight feeling of jealousy that was currently constricting her chest.

She made mocking mumbles under her breath at your coworker's responses whenever she heard them speak until Monica finally interjected. "If you're so upset by what's going on, why don't you go over there and do something about it?"

The blonde perked up at the idea immediately. "You know what, Mon, that's a great idea. I'm gonna go do just that." She got up from the couch, carefully smoothing out the fabric of her outfit and adjusting her hair until she heard Monica speak again. "Oh, for God's sake, Rachel, you look fine. Now, just go over there already."

Nodding at her words, she quickly made her way over to where you were still speaking with your coworker, someone who was absolutely gorgeous if Rachel did say so herself. Not quite as gorgeous as she was, naturally, but still, with you talking to them for so long she obviously had reason to be upset.

Much to her delight, you wrapped an arm around her waist immediately, tugging her in closer before turning to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Hi, honey," she cooed in delight at the show of affection, shooting your coworker a subtle nasty look.

"Hey, sweetheart. How's it going?" You seemed oblivious to what was going on, and it seemed to her as if you were completely unaware of the envy lurking just beneath her sickeningly sweet surface.

"Well, it's certainly going even better now that you're here." Her voice was a low purr when she spoke, and she punctuated her statement by leaning in to give you a kiss, which you accepted gladly. "I saved you a seat," she added while gesturing back to the couch behind her, a not-so-subtle way of stating that she didn't want you ignoring her any longer for some other random person, whether you worked with them or not.

You picked up what she was trying to get across immediately. "It was nice talking to you. I'll see you tomorrow," you politely excused yourself from the conversation before allowing your girlfriend to tug you back in the direction of the friend group's usual spot.

Despite knowing you were referring to when you'd see them at work the next day, Rachel still rolled her eyes at your words. See you tomorrow. Yeah, and when they did they were going to know even further you were already taken for, that much was sure.

She spent that entire night having round after round of sex with you. You weren't quite sure what had gotten into her that had her begging for more even after you'd already finished a round, but you weren't exactly complaining about it.

The next day, you struggled to find a shirt that had a collar high up enough that would help to hide all the hickeys she'd left behind on your neck. "Here, sweetie. Why don't you wear this one?" She suggested with a sweet smile.

Of course you took her advice, giving her an appreciative kiss as you went to go put it on. She smirked as she watched you, having spritzed the shirt with some of her perfume so you'd smell like her and be reminded of her all throughout the day (hopefully it would remind your coworkers of her, too, especially the one you bumped into at the coffee shop).

Stil unaware of her plan, you continued with getting ready for the day while she sat scheming. There had to be something else she could do to let them know that you were hers. And then it hit her.

The passionate kiss she pulled you in for right as you were about to leave was thankfully distracting enough for her to be able to tape a sign to your back without you knowing- not one that said "Kick Me", but one that had "Property of Rachel Green" written on it instead. She could only imagine the reactions your coworkers would have when they saw it.

And if you happened to return from work a teensy bit frustrated with her for putting it there in the first place, let's just say she already had a few plans on how to calm you back down again.

End notes: do I already have an idea for a part two for this? maybe 🤭

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[kuroppiii]

helloo sweetie, hope ur okay! could you pretty please write some fluff headcanons abt my boys sho and koushi (separately ofc) having a crush on a fem!brazilian!reader? thanks anyways! good evening ! ! 💕 💕

  baianá ᵕ̈       timeskip!hinata shōyō       x fem!brazilian!reader +       timeskip!sugawara kōshi      x fem!brazilian!readerˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : crushes amidst sand , ⋮⋮  sun , and music in the air

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴 🥛     ♡ # 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 - 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘱     ♡ # 500 + 470 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

🎶 on shuffle " the girl from ipanema " - astrud gilberto

🧸 directory  ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ of course i can ! thank you so much for the request love ♡ it was so much fun researching brazilian culture for this one , so thank you for being the reason why i learned some new things !!! ”

︴hinata shōyō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° 

brazil arc hinata save us all

you're next door to the place he was posted up for the duration of his stay

you both always end up leaving in the mornings to go about your days at the same time, seeing each other at your front doors

from the first moment he saw you, he just thought you were out of this world pretty

eventually starts greeting you

“bom dia! (good morning!)” [hinata]

then it goes into small talk as the mornings follow one another

it’s like canon he can keep up a decent convo in portuguese

"roupa linda... hoje? (nice outfit... today?)" [hinata]

"obrigada! (thanks!)" [you]

(his face absolutely lights up)

tells you he’s in brazil on beach volleyball training and starts inviting you to the beach to come watch

"if you're not busy! i'm always down there. i'm getting really good!" [hinata]

and not like he would be more of a try hard bc he’s always trying hard when it comes to volleyball...

buttttt if you were there for his games he would always look to you nearby after he scores to make sure you saw him being super cool like that

would even try to show you how to play–specifically serve or set for him–if you don't already know

freudian slip he brushes some sand he spots out of your hair

"sorry you had a little something." [hinata]

"hinata there's literally sand all over me...?" [you]

then it would extend to going out at night as he asks you to show him around (his volleyball mates have already shown him a bunch but he acts dumb so he can hopefully spend more time with you)

if he thought you looked good in your daytime outfits, he thinks you're drop dead gorgeous in your night-out fit (especially if you accessories with metal jewelry or something like that!!)

he gets tongue tied just as badly as when he's trying to speak portuguese

where there’s music, there’s dancing–and hinata really tries to dance brega with you a little bit

he knows he'll be bad, but he hopes that makes you smile (and an excuse to hold you) and besides, he’s actually not too bad! (i have said before i think he can dance when the time calls for it!!)

his volleyball friends have definitely put him onto some brazilian funk as they've played their games on the beach, but he’ll ask if you have any brazilian music recs

if you do, as soon as you go into your respective houses at the end of the night, he’s listening to that religiously u can lowkey hear it through the wall

"did you listen to my recs?" [you]

"sim!!! (yes!!!)" [hinata]

he just thinks you're so cool :((( really wants to impress you at the end of the day!! he hopes you'll think the same way about him

︴sugawara kōshi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘° 

it's carnival!!!

sugawara and his friends (the third years) (noya convinced them to go) decided they wanted to be part of the festivities this year!

his group just so happens to bump into you and your friends in the crowd that first night

bro is down bad from the moment he lays eyes on you

like he's sooo gone

his friends catch him staring and they push him to go dance with you amidst the loud music surging through the mass of people

(he gets bumped into you)

"sorry! uh, uh... b-boa noite (good night)? hi– i don't know the, um– dançar (dance)?" [sugawara]

so then maybe there's a little samba here and there–i think he could pull it off! 💃🕺

both of your groups hit it off and you exchange numbers

the next few days you all hang out in the mornings as you and your friends show them around, before reuniting again in the nighttime for the festival activities

genuinely asks if you could teach him some words in portuguese

"how do you say... "beautiful" in portuguese?" [sugawara]

"linda!" [you]

"cool! cool, yeah... good to know– GREAT to know, actually!" [sugawara]

he'll always ask which fruits or foods or drinks are your favorites and is willing to try any you pick out for him

he's not picky or anything not as long as you're around

and i really mean as in any, like if you lied and purposefully picked one you hated for him, he would fake that it was the best thing he's tried in his life

doesn't ever fail in offering to share it with you, though chat is this rizz

"here, have a bite from mine!" [sugawara]

the guy's not too bad with beach football

but he does keep letting the ball drop though bc he can’t stop looking at you 😓

asks you to help put sunscreen on him bc he "burns easily 🥺" 💀💀💀

keeps saying “brazil is so beautiful!” when what he’s really trying to hint at is that YOU are so beautiful

"brazil is so linda!" [sugawara] (he says this looking directly at you and with the stupidest grin on his face)

one afternoon, noya is asking to see what pictures sugawara has taken on this trip so far

reluctantly, sugawara opens up his camera roll

and for some odd reason 🤔 you appear in a lot of them as he swipes through

"is that me again–?" [you]

"noya! isn't there just so many pretty sights here?" [sugawara]

he may or may not go home to their airbnb one night and convinces the rest to stay another week

and the day after the festival is over he may or may not start texting you one-on-one under the guise of "do you want me to send those pictures of you you're in??"

[slasherwife]

Hiya! (Don’t know if requests are open but if not just ignore-)

how would the slashers react to their s/o who goes in and out of the hospital because of health problems?

Hope you Have a good day/night and stay safe! ^^

hiya my darling i especially love you and this is an adorbs ask 🥺 thank u for sending this in!! and sorry for the extreme delay 🥹💞

i decided to include brahmsy because i miss him dearly 🥹💗

Slashers with an s/o who’s in and out of the hospital

summary you and your slasher husband must make time for your hospital checkups and whatnot. how does this impact the relationship and mental health of both of you?😇💕

warnings fluffff🥺🌷

thomas

thomas is the one to carrying you to the hospital if it came to it. every single time. he just loves you so much 😭💞 he can’t let you be in danger. he is the first one at your side every single time you are in need of help with your health.

he will be a mother hen. anything that hoyt requests you do, he will be at your side making sure you are safe and protected, whatever it is. unless luda is there to help, he will be at your side diligently to make sure his love is doing okay and that they don’t need help🥺🌷

he is insanely protective. thomas is like a protective force field around you, literally nothing can harm you while he is your beloved protector 🥺💞 tommy notices when hoyt purposefully gives you difficult tasks he knows you won’t be able to do, and since then, tommy has made it his personal goal to make hoyt afraid of messing with you. and boy, he can be terrifying🥲

when the time comes where you need to be on the way back to the hospital, tommy is pushing through everyone in his way to get to you. 🥺🫶 you are his heart, his baby, his beloved one. he is your sole protector and he will see to it that you get the proper care you need. don’t worry y/n, thomas is here to keep you safe.

he doesn’t mind doctors. just make his sweetheart healthy and there won’t be a problem🤗💗

jason

jason is a little passive when it comes to medical stuff. i mean, he lived off the bare minimum after the lake incident, and then became undead so~~😂💞 but once he realizes the love of his life, the flower on his mountain, needs this medical care, he will do everything in his power to get them to it🌷

jason is very very understanding. 💕you had explained to jason that you are often in and out of the hospital for whatever reason. this might result in you disappearing for a few hours, to a few days at a time, but there was nothing you could do about it. 🥺 in those soft and expressive eyes of his, you could read, “i would wait forever for you.” 🌷💕

when you return, expect the softest princess treatment. jason has made the bed for you, lavished with new soft blankets and pillows. he has your favorite stuffed animals, and once you’re snuggled in, he gives your stuffies kisses before tucking them with you, and then giving you forehead kisses, and making a “shh~~” sound while stroking your hair😭🌷💗

he likes carrying you everywhere😭🥺 or at least holding your hand softly as he walks places. i think it’s a very soft manifestation of his possessiveness, and fear of losing you. he carry’s you like a baby, or like a baby koala, on your walks through the forest🥺💗 or if he needs to go somewhere and you want to go with him, he won’t hesitate on wrapping you in your favorite blanket and taking you with him💕🌷

with jason, you will be treated like the softest lil mushroom baby princess to ever grace earth🥺💞 unless you don’t want to be, at least let him tuck you in and hold your hand softly whenever you’re with him 🌷he’s just scared to lose you.

michael

michael absolutely cannot stand doctors. as we all know, michael has not had very nice interactions with them growing up! in fact one could argue they ruined his life😭he definitely does not want that for you, but he understands that this is the best way for you to stay healthy💕🫶

michael’s trust issues causes him to stalk you your entire stay at the hospital. whether that be days or a few hours. it’s definitely not for distrust of you, but for the doctors he despises. he knows if they were to even slip up once, they would be in an inescapable world of hell from him🥺💕that’s his parter they’re putting needles in, one mishap and they are all dead😩

in a way, he becomes your doctor too, ironically. if you have specific medicine you need to take, you best BELIEVE michael’s going to be standing with your meds in hand outside your door, AS SOON as you wake up 😭💗he watches as you eat, drink, monitors your caffeine intake, hides, trashes, burns any food he seems unhealthy for you. he’s hyper fixated on your well-being even though it’s not obvious.

you honestly will not notice it, but he’s hyper fixated on keeping you alive. he has stayed up all night, multiple nights, to watch how much sleep you’re getting😖💞he makes sure your water is filled up enough to his liking, your portions are ample, and every single prescribed pill (if you are prescribed medication) is downed at the exact time it’s supposed to be consumed😇

you will not notice at all how protective michael is over you. when he doesn’t approve of one of your doctors (for whatever reason) they are gone, and another will come in. he pulls the strings, and he makes it seem so effortless. all for you, all for his love, his darling one🌷💞

brahms

he cries every time you leave. “don’t leave me~~” he sobs. but in a way he isn’t crying for himself, and somehow you know too. 🌷💕he knows you’ll always come back, it’s why he loves you so so dearly. but what if you are too sick to come home one day? what if you die in the hospital, alone, and he’s left alone forever without you? 😭

he notices that you are tired and weak after your hospital visits. brahms certainly is selfish but when he loves someone as much as he loves you, he will go to ends of the earth to please you and earn your praise🥹💗he will make you your favorite snacks, and bring you his favorite toys or read something from his poetry book 🥹💞 it’s his way of showing you he cares!

g-d forbid anything happen at the house. brahms isn’t good at remembering when you need to take any medication or any special instructions for yourself given by the doctor❤️‍🩹😖what if one day you forget and you pass out or something? he is so anxious because if this and tries his best to make sure you are looking healthy every day. he can’t ever lose you y/n!🥲💗

you will receive a very clingy boi once you arrive back home😖💗 once you step back into the heelshire mansion, expect a rumbling and brahms stepping out from the walls, encasing you into his warm arms mumbling incoherent speech, his grip tight on your hips and waist. he missed you so much 🥺🌷

brahms will be very sad every time you leave to go to the hospital, but he must come to terms with the fact that it must happen. he struggles with severe abandonment issues every since his parents and greta left him, but he will learn that you will always return to him🌷

bo sinclair

he will certainly not make a very big deal about it. and he will absolutely not relay any of your medical information to lester or vincent. you want to know anything about y/n? fuck off. it’s none of their business. he won’t like talking or hearing about your mortality or health, it makes him overthink and anxious and he doesn’t like feeling that way at all :(

generally, bo is extra gentle with you and extra angry with his potentially hazardous brothers. when you are feeling particularly sick, he’s speaking in hushed cooes while stroking your cheek🥺💕if you’re on the couch he makes sure both brothers know not to make any loud noises. he will tease you for being a couch potato while literally wrapping you in blankets and spoon feeding you apple sauce😭 he loves it when you visit him in the garage, talking to you is like a drug to him 🥺💞

bo goes extra lengths to make sure everything is in order. when the time comes around to make a trip to the hospital, bo is loading up the truck with necessities and blankets and whatever else you want. he has vincent help him sometimes. and he doesn’t want you to question a thing 🥹💗 of course he’s doing this for you, baby girl. sweet thing, just get in the front seat and let him take control. 🌷

he sits with you and holds your hand or thigh in the waiting room. when the doctor comes around he sits up and shakes the doctors hand like a suburban dad before they take you back to do screenings and go over your symptoms and medications😭💗bo stays in the waiting room with his knuckles brushing over his chin, and watching the clock.

surprisingly, bo is extremely good at taking care of you. it mostly comes from him taking care of vincent and lester all those years. he is absolutely terrified at the possibility of losing you to any sickness you may have, but masks it with teasing words and his overprotective tendencies😭💗

vincent sinclair

he is very scared of being incompetent at taking care of you. he might go to bo for advice, and will feel guilty for not going with you to the hospital when the time comes😞🌷. he gets bo to get you a car to use when you need to leave for your appointments, and will not eat and barely sleep while you are away.

he gets some sort of communication between you two so you can update him when you are away at the hospital😊 this way he can know when things are going well, and get better idea of when you will be home. this helps his distress and separation anxiety a lot🤗💝

when you return home, you are going straight to your room. you aren’t even inside the house yet and vincent’s warm arms are wrapped around you, his hard chest against your back, his face in the crook of your neck breathing you in. you are finally home🌷 vincent takes your hand gently and leads you into your guys’s shared room, cuddling with you in the bed running his artist hands up and down your body.

he makes you little trinkets to bring with you to the hospital. he thinks of it as him being with you in a way, and sees it as protection 😇💕this also calms his separation anxiety in a way, and it gives him an excuse to spoil you in endless gifts, for his goddess muse 😩💞

since i think bo would generally leave y’all alone, vincent would be an excellent caretaker and really takes on the role of a mental support system. the texting is a huge help to both of you, if you are having anxiety at the hospital, vincent is right there to calm your nerves 😇💕don’t worry dear one, your darling husband vincent will always be by your side 🌷

[casukaga]

Please talk about what you love the most about your lil blorbos (Cable and Maverick and anyone else!) and what has been a fun challenge while playing them! And any other details that you're like "this is so neat but so niche so no one will know unless this VERY SPECIFIC SCENARIO COMES UP"

HEHEHEH WELL SINCE YOU ASKED….. :3c

cable—

i fuckin love this guy.

the basic rundown of cable: he’s charming, charismatic, loves spontaneity, and loves living life dangerously!! he’s all about doing what makes you happy and is a big advocate for self-love. they’ve got a high self-esteem and know their self-worth (he knows he’s hot shit and loves himself a lot!! ❤️) they also used to work at a brothel and are super open about their sexuality. this guy? horny. they love performing and pole dancing and wearing high heels. he’s also very affectionate and loves any and all kinds of physical contact. he’s also aromantic and pansexual!! he is platonic partners with my gf’s character, ophelia 💕

you ask me what i love about cable and it’s just. all of him LMAO.

i love cable sm because there’s a lot of myself in him (i made their character at a time when i was doing a lot of self-reflection). also he’s so open and honest and self-confident, i’m like— WOW, i aspire to be like you someday…

if i were to give a challenge i have while playing them… i love rp (it is my favorite part of dnd), but i fear i’m not the best at improv. i tend to get nervous during sessions for this campaign specifically. i think it’s that i’m so self-conscious about playing cable accurate to how i imagine him in my head that i’m just a bundle of nerves. i’m nervous at first, but eventually i get into a groove the longer the session goes on. though, these past few sessions especially, i’ve been pretty happy with how i’ve been playing him!! it delights me when my friends tell me they love cable as well 🥺

i also play leiana, my high elf druid!!

i realized i haven’t talked about her / showed her publicly on social media at all, so here she is. i don’t have as many things to say about her as i do cable, but i love her all the same!!

she was the first character i tried to give an accent to (irish), and while my irish accent is definitely not that good— it is what it is. this is just how she sounds like, and it’s good enough for me.

leiana is a cartographer and she loooooves bugs. loves bugs. which is very much not like me because i am, unfortunately, a little bug hater. but leiana has such a fascination with nature and bugs especially. she studies bugs and likes to pin them (she only pins dead ones she finds, she would never kill a bug herself) and she has a collection of pinned bugs!

she also has a pet tarantula named fenri, who can change colors! (he’s primarily pink and matches leiana’s hair.)

leiana is no stranger to grief and she fears dying. currently she is trying to distance herself from the party for Reasons 🥲

while i have a few more dnd characters, they are for upcoming campaigns that i have yet to play in!! cable and leiana are the two i am actively playing at the moment :3

maverick is also in my brain constantly these days, but unfortunately i cannot talk abt xem for reasons….one day i will gush abt them to my heart’s content…

thank u for letting me chatter abt my ocs, i give u a little kiss on the forehead

[cat3ch1sm]

Hi hope you're feeling better 💙 if I may ask again (cause ur writing is so good 💕)could I please have some wholesome and funny camping headcanons with the main four?(killua, gon, kurapika and leorio)

🪐~ hi there! thanks for asking abt my health, im taking it one day at a time :) here’s ur request!! to be clear there is no limit on how many requests one person can send in! so if u think you’re being annoying by sending in several requests don’t. i love you guys’ ideas

𝐡𝐱𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

gon is definitely the one who proposes the idea of camping. the others have to be convinced. but when gon really wants you to do something his eyes get all sparkly and big and earnest and he’s hard to say no to so eventually everyone always pulls up at the campsite

gon and killua have a ton of fun on the hike to the campsite in the woods. they’re just playing tag and chasing each other and swinging on trees and running up this steep ass hill like nobody’s business. kurapika isn’t as eager but he doesn’t have trouble actually hiking. but by the time they reach the site leorio is half dead

gon still pulls up in his fuck ass green shorts and cardigan even though they’re near water and they’re outside in the woods and there are a shit ton of mosquitoes

kurapika in a tank top. that’s all

killua does not even bother avoiding things like anthills and beehives and shi he just walks straight through them and the insects don’t even bother him

gon teaches the whole gang how to fish and Kurapika is a natural for some reason. leorio eventually gets the hang of it. but killua is positively disgusted by the worms they have to use as bait

doesn’t stop him from tossing a few down leorio and kurapika’s shirts though

kurapika is actually really proficient in the wild somehow- he remembers to pack all the essentials, knows how to set up a shelter (even though they have a tent) and knows what to do in case of things like flash floods or forest fires

there is always this one squirrel that will not stop following gon. he keeps feeding it and even though everyone says not to because then it’ll never leave him alone, gon doesn’t care. the squirrel seems genuinely attached to him and likes to chill on gon’s shoulder

there is also a squirrel that follows leorio simply to steal his food.

leorio and killua argue nonstop about how to set up the tents until kurapika swoops in while they’re busy fighting and just wordlessly puts them up himself

of course killua and gon share a tent while leorio and kurapika share the other

kurapika is basically gon and killua’s parent on camping trips because they’re twelve year old boys and super reckless. so before they go running off somewhere kurapika always drowns them in bug spray and sunscreen and makes sure they have full water bottles

for some reason killua is dead set on catching his own food. not like casual fishing like gon does, but he literally just wants to go into the woods and kill animals with his bare hands and bring them back to cook even though that’s definitely not how that works

of course Kurapika is prepared though. he brought things like trail mix and sunflower seeds and nuts and some meat. he also brings s’mores for them to make over the fire

starting the fire, by the way, gives them absolute hell. kurapika’s matches won’t light and killua’s lightning flashes too quick and gon can’t muster up enough heat energy from his nen to make the fire. after an hour though, when leorio leaves his glasses sitting right beside the pile of wood, the sun catches in the lens and finally lights the fire. leorio barely saves his glasses in time from the blaze

gon is a literal mosquito magnet for no reason. even despite the bug spray he comes back from his escapades with killua itching like crazy until Kurapika to the rescue gives him ointment to help with it

kurapika for some reason always burns his marshmallows in the fire when they’re making s’mores. he does it on purpose too and killua always makes it clear that he’s judging him for eating the burnt marshmallows

killua thought it would be fun to light the marshmallow on fire and then try and eat the literal flaming marshmallow. gon wanted to try too, but both leorio and kurapika shut that down real quick

when it’s time to go to bed and it’s dark gon climbs the trees and looks at the stars because he thinks they’re pretty. killua calls him corny but always joins him in the trees

kurapika just stays awake below, quietly watching the two talk and laugh in the tree

gon and killua always wind up falling asleep in the trees despite claiming that they’ll come back down

[ro-is-struggling]

Finally, Ro's followers celebration!!!!! I'd like to request this prompt: Character A and Character B have feelings for each other but can't bring themselves to admit it. That is until they have to pretend to be a couple (for a mission, a family party, whatever) and end up kissing on more than one occasion. Their feelings for each other become evident and they end up confessing their feelings - but not before acting like a couple of nervous, awkward idiots {Brooklyn 99 2x23} with james potter! I want it to be fluffy, pls😩🥰 thank you. love u <3

Hi beautiful!! Of course my first request had to be from you💜💜💜

Thank you so much for participating! I'm so happy to start the celebration with your request💕 I had a lot of fun writing this one so I hope you like it!!

Undercover Mission || James Potter x Reader

Summary: An undercover mission for the Order of the Phoenix leads you and James to confront your repressed feelings for each other as you are forced to kiss to keep your covers from being blown.

Warnings: fluff, a little bit of angst, mutual pining, idiots in love, friends to lovers, humor, set after they graduated from Hogwarts

English is not my first language

Word count: 4900

Notes: I based this story on the episode of b99 from which I got the prompt, I hope you don't mind. I just think James and Jake are literally the same person so I couldn’t resist

"Are we sure we have the right guy?" you asked, the boredom and exhaustion clear in your voice. James, Sirius, Marlene and you had spent the last few hours trapped in an old van following a guy under suspicion that he was a Death Eater. Dumbledore believed he was transporting an important package for the Dark Lord and he wanted the Order of the Phoenix to intercept it before it reached its destination, but so far nothing interesting or remotely suspicious had happened.

"If Albus suspects him then there's gotta be a reason," James stated beside you, his eyes glued to the window as he kept an eye on his target. 

"I know, but this dude hasn't done anything since we got here," you complained, letting your head fall back against the seat cushion. "Am I the only one who doesn't understand why he would be in the Muggle world if he wanted to do Death Eater shit? It doesn't make sense."

"Cause we wouldn't expect it," Sirius said from the driver's seat. 

"Or they're planning an attack," Marleen muttered next to him and your heart stopped for a moment. You really hoped things wouldn't escalate to such a level. If they were planning something big you didn't know if the backup would arrive in time to stop them and save the lives of the innocent muggles caught in the line of fire.

"I don't think they are," James said, turning to look at you for a moment. His tone of voice was soft but determined, trying to control the situation and clear those ideas from his friends' minds —especially yours. "Albus would have heard something if that was their plan all along."

The van fell into silence for a few minutes as you waited for something to happen. The soft rock playing on the radio was the only thing that could be heard inside the vehicle, anticipation, fear, boredom and adrenaline a strange mix of feelings that affected the minds of the four young, newly graduated from Hogwarts. You were definitely too young and inexperienced to be participating in secret missions, but someone had to do it. Someone had to stand up and fight for what was right. 

You drove through town for another hour following your target. The sun had already gone down when you parked on a nice, well-lit, but quiet street. Your target entered a restaurant at the end of the street and you let out an exclamation of joy as you finally got out of that old truck for a while to stretch your legs.

"Okay, we'll go in and keep an eye on him I'm case he makes the deal inside. You two stay here and wait for my signal" James instructed his friends as both you and he exited the vehicle. You took a moment to straighten your clothes, wrinkled after so many hours sitting in the car. It wasn't the nicest muggle outfit you had, but luckily the restaurant didn't seem to be too fancy so you'd be fine.

"Do you see him anywhere?" James asked once inside the establishment, scanning the crowded front desk for his target. You gently nudged him in the ribs to shut him up, nodding your head forward. His eyes followed your movement and he then discovered that just a couple of inches away was the man you had been following all day. He spoke to the woman at the front desk and was quickly escorted to a table inside the restaurant, leaving you behind without any visual of what he was doing. 

"What's taking so long?" you complained in a mumble that only James could hear. "He could be making the deal right now."

"Should we use our wands?" suggested James. Using magic was risky, but it would get you a table at the restaurant in a matter of seconds.

"No, I have a better idea." Taking James by the hand, you walked up to the woman at the front desk to ask for a table. She informed you that the place was full and that you would have to wait for a table to clear before you could get in. But that was not an option for you, you had to get in and you had to get in now. So you held onto James' arm and smiling warmly you said, "Oh but we just got engaged and this is where we had our first date, isn't that right sweetie?"

James looked at you with wide eyes, surprised by your words. It took him a few seconds to respond, not because he didn't know what to answer but because he had been stunned to hear you call him by that affectionate nickname. He would be lying if he said he didn't want to hear you call him that for the rest of his life.

"Yes, yes! It was a beautiful night like this one. And special too. When you left the restaurant that night I knew you were the one, I just knew." James played along, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you close against his body as he spoke, looking at you with a smile on his lips and the distinctive glint of love shining in his eyes. It felt real, too real, so you looked away before losing yourself in his beautiful blue eyes. You were on an important mission and you had to concentrate. "I would have made a reservation but I didn't know if she was gonna say yes." 

"Oh I love how nervous you were!" you exclaimed fondly, playfully tapping his nose and letting out a giggle. "You just had to see him, he was adorable," you added, standing on your tiptoes to reach up to give him a kiss on the cheek. James' heart raced, the blood in his whole body pooling in his cheeks as he struggled not to let his feelings for you show. He'd had a crush on you for a long time —since fifth year to be exact—, but you two had always been such good friends that he'd never gotten around to doing anything about it. He valued your friendship too much to risk losing it. That's why he had to control his heart or the mission wouldn't be the only thing that went wrong.

"You look so sweet together!" the receptionist exclaimed, watching you tenderly. "I'm sure I can find room for two young lovers."

"Yeah.. we are lovers… together... in bed" James muttered awkwardly, struggling to stop his imagination from running wild. He had pictured what his life with you might be like more times than he was proud to admit, but this wasn't the time or place to fantasize about your wedding or think about the name of your future child.

"Okay," you said with a smile, squeezing James' arm to shut him up as you watched the woman disappear inside the restaurant. "Keep it together, Potter. We need that table," you muttered just for him to hear. You knew it was weird for him to be in such an intimate and romantic situation with you. You had been friends for so long that you were pretty sure he saw you as a sister —a thought that made your heart clench painfully in your chest—, but he had to keep his cool for a few more minutes. Once at the table you could drop the act and laugh at how weird it was to imagine being married while keeping your target well guarded. 

However, things proved to be more difficult than that.

The woman returned a few minutes later with a smile on her face. She led you to your table herself, wishing you a lovely evening and a happy marriage before returning to her desk. You barely had time to settle into your seats before the couple seated at the table next to yours showered you with congratulations on your engagement as well. It was an elderly couple who were there celebrating fifty years of marriage, so neither of you had the heart to ignore them.

"So, when did you guys meet?" the man asked you.

"Last year" you said without thinking, your eyes searching the crowd for your target.

"Five years ago" James stated at the same time, his gaze locked on the Death Eater dining alone a couple of tables away. 

The elderly couple looked at you in confusion and you hurried to correct the mistake. "We met five years ago but we don't count that."

"Yeah, I was dating another girl at that time" James noted and technically he wasn't lying. When you met he was in love with Lily Evans and while you never officially dated, he had planned his entire life with her at that time.

"And I wasn't interested in dating," you laughed. "But a year ago we bumped into each other and we haven't been able to separate ever since."

"How sweet!" the woman exclaimed, looking at you fondly. She reminded you of your grandmother in some ways, which only made things weirder. It was hard not to get carried away with the role you were playing when fate seemed to be determined to make you imagine your perfect life at James' side. "How did you know she was the one?" the old lady asked your friend, looking at him expectantly.

James looked at you, panic written all over his face. "I'd love to answer that..." he stammered, trying to buy himself some time to think. He knew exactly how to answer that question, he had a memorized list of the things you did that made him fall in love with you, but he couldn't be honest. If he spoke from the heart he risked being exposed.  "Just whenever I look at her face," he finished, unsure if it was the right thing to say.

"And what about you?" The woman directed her question at you this time.

Your eyes met James' as you contemplated your answer. For a second, you felt as if the world had ceased to exist, the chatter of the people around you getting quieter and quieter until it disappeared altogether. It was just you and him in that restaurant, looking into each other's eyes with an intimacy that felt different. You lost yourself deep in his eyes, looking straight into his soul as your mind went over all the things you adored about him.  

"He makes me laugh" you replied honestly, putting a smile on James' face. 

"And you know, there's really no one else's opinion who I care about more than hers," he added, feeling comfortable and confident enough to open up a bit.

The elderly couple went on to tell you a bit of their life story and as much as you found it adorable, neither of you were able to pay much attention. They could barely remember that they were on a mission, their eyes occasionally traveling to their target to make sure he wasn't doing anything suspicious. You were both too distracted, lost in your own thoughts as you repeated each other's words over and over in your heads. You knew you just were playing roles, but what you had said to each other, the knowing look you had shared, it all felt too real, too sincere. Of course you both dismissed it after spinning it around in your heads for a while, convincing yourselves that you were seeing things where there was nothing because for some reason you were the only two people in the world unable to see that you were in love. 

The moment you were sharing was interrupted when you noticed your target getting up from the table. You kicked James lightly to get his attention, silently motioning for him to look at the Death Eater you were supposed to be watching. Excusing yourselves from the lovely old couple you had been chatting with for the last thirty minutes, you rose from the table and made your way to the back of the restaurant, following in your target's footsteps. 

"Do you think he's going to meet his partner?" you spoke in a whisper so that no one but James would hear you.

"I don't know," he replied.

Just as the words left his lips, the man turned and made direct eye contact with you. Time stopped for a second, panic taking over as you realized you had been discovered. You had no reason to be there and you were pretty sure that the Death Eater had already seen you parked in front of him hours ago. He wasn't stupid, he would be able to put two and two together and then your mission would be ruined at best. At worst, you would have to fight to get the briefcase he was carrying, endangering the lives of many innocent Muggles.

But before the panic could fully take hold of you, you felt James' hands close around your waist. You turned to look at him, but you couldn't do or say anything because suddenly his lips crashed against yours. You didn't even take a second to question what was happening, letting the feeling of euphoria run through your body as you felt the caress of James' lips on yours. You lost yourself in him instantly, in the taste of his mouth, in the warmth of his body against yours, in the delicate way he held you in his arms. You were flying in the sky in complete bliss as you let James guide the kiss, struggling to keep up the peace.

But the moment ended as abruptly as it had begun, leaving you dazed and confused, missing James' lips the second they parted from yours.

"I'm sorry, I just- I didn't know what else to do," he spluttered awkwardly, his thoughts clouded by the scent of your perfume.

"No, it's okay," you hurried to say, struggling to form coherent sentences so as not to let him know how much his kiss had really affected you. "It's all good. We kept our cover intact, good job. Very quick thinking, very professional." You were tense and couldn't look him in the eye when you spoke, but neither could he so neither of you mentioned anything, opting to pretend nothing had happened as you went on with your mission.

"C'mon he's on the move" James announced as he climbed into the van once again. He kept his gaze straight ahead, his body rigid against the seat of the vehicle as if he was afraid to let go and end up accidentally touching you. He needed to keep his distance from you until he recovered his cognitive functions. His brain would never be able to process what had happened if your perfume kept assaulting his nostrils.

"So how was the restaurant?" Marlene asked you to fill the awkward silence that had formed. She could feel the tension in the air, a tension that wasn't there before you guys disappeared behind the restaurant doors. It was different from the tensions she was used to feeling when you and James were together, much more intense, and she couldn't help but wonder what had happened in there.

"Great! It was fine, totally normal and appropriate" you replied suspiciously quickly raising your voice to a higher pitch than usual. If she didn't suspect something had happened before, she definitely did now.

"What happened? Why are you being so weird?" Sirius asked, looking at you curiously through the rearview mirror.

"Y/N and I kissed" James confessed with a sigh, knowing it would be best to be honest with his friends. After all, it hadn't meant anything, had it? There was nothing strange about telling them the truth because you had nothing to hide. Strange would be if you kept it a secret.

"WHAT? Tell me everything!" Marlene exclaimed in a shout of joy, turning to see her friend in the back seat with a big smile on her face. She knew about your crush on James from day one and couldn't believe there was finally a breakthrough in your story. Sometimes Marlene felt like she was more involved in your little secret romance with James than you were yourself.

"Calm down! It was just to keep our cover from being blown, we didn't have a choice" you explained, feeling the blood from all over your body travel to your cheeks.

"Yeah, it didn't mean anything," James added, ignoring the stabbing pain that shot through his heart as he said it. 

"I want details," her friend insisted and you rolled your eyes.

"Marlene, it was just a kiss, okay? It was nothing." Only it hadn't been just a kiss, not to you at least, but you weren't going to admit it in front of everyone —especially not James.

"Yeah, who cares about a kiss? Call me if you grab each other's asses" Sirius interjected from the driver's seat, a mischievous grin plastered on his lips. James reached out from behind his back and smacked him on the shoulder, a silent way of telling his friend that this was not the time for his jokes.

Marlene was going to continue pressing you for more details —you and James kissing was the most interesting thing that had happened to her that day—, but her attention was drawn back to the mission at hand when Sirius alerted you that your target had gotten out of the car and was walking towards a park. He still had the briefcase in his hand, but the streets were deserted which made you think he wasn't going to meet anyone that night, but to leave the package for someone else to pick up.

"Okay, you and Sirius follow him just in case he does meet with someone after this." you instructed Marlene, watching as your target returned to his car, without the briefcase in his hands this time.

"Right! And you and James follow your hearts" your friend replied with a smile.

"No!" you grumbled, giving Marlene a murderous look. "We're gonna stay with the package."

"And each other forever" she insisted and you swore she was doing it on purpose to spite you. You didn't even dignify her comment with a response, opting instead to exit the vehicle and slam the door a little harder than necessary. James followed you, crossing the street beside you to get to the park your target had come from. 

You walked in silence, enjoying the quiet of the night. The place was deserted, something that was both good and bad. On the one hand it was good because if things went wrong at least there were no Muggles around who could get hurt. On the other hand it was bad because you had no way to hide so you wouldn't stand out. When the Death Eaters came to pick up the package they would see you, there was no doubt about that. You realized then that you would have to be quick if you wanted to catch them.

"Why can't we just take the briefcase and go?" James asked as he leaned back against a tree, his back to the bench next to where your target had left the hidden package.

"Because Albus wants to arrest everyone involved in this and for that we need the briefcase to exchange hands, otherwise there's no case." you explained and James grunted, hating having to stand there for who knows how much longer until someone showed up.

Neither of you spoke for a while, the weight of the silence and the tension in the air increasing your nerves. James' mind was riddled with doubts, fearing he had made a mistake by kissing you in the restaurant. You had told him that you understood why he had done it, assuring him that you had no issue with it, but it didn't feel like things were good between you. You were distant and tense, and you could barely look him in the eye. Regret was eating him up inside, knowing it was his fault that you felt uncomfortable around him.

"Hey, seriously, we're cool right?" James broke the silence forcing you to look away from the starry sky to face him.

"Yeah, totally," you nodded with a smile, hoping that was enough to calm him down. "We're fine." If only he knew that the reason for your strange behavior was that you were fighting the urge to take his face in your hands and kiss him one more time....

"Why do they have to schedule their drop off so late? Death Eaters have no respect for Auror's lives and times." James joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. You let out a chuckle and he felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. "I'm starving, we barely got to eat at that stupid restaurant."

"I know! Mr. and Mrs. Green were adorable but they couldn't stop talking" you said, remembering the chatty couple. You couldn't have been there more than forty minutes and somehow you knew when and where they had married, how they met, how many children they had and the names of their grandchildren. "I'm craving ice cream as weird as it might be considering how late it is."

"It's not weird at all, you always crave sweets at these hours, that's why you have trouble sleeping."

"You know what I really want to get right now?"

"Cookies and cream?" said James, more as a statement than a question. "It's your favorite, isn't it? Especially for times like this. I'm assuming you already have one in the freezer waiting for you to celebrate."

"Y-yes," you nodded in surprise. You weren't surprised that he knew what your favorite ice cream flavor was —you had been friends for years, that was normal—, you were surprised at how quickly and confidently he had spoken, leaving you no time to say anything before answering for you. He remembered your silly tradition of celebrating the little good things in life with your favorite flavor of ice cream even though it was something you usually did alone. It was a small, insignificant detail, but it made you feel appreciated. He remembered.

"I brought one too if you want to spend the night at my place after this is all over. We can celebrate together." You were going to tell him how much you appreciated his sweet gesture and how he was the one person you wanted to celebrate your victories in life with, but the words died in your throat when you noticed a man approaching the briefcase they had been guarding for the last fifteen minutes.

"James, he's looking at us," you tried to warn him discreetly, but your friend was too distracted rambling on about the different flavors of ice cream and which ones were the best. "Well, this is happening," you murmured, taking James' face in your hands and leaning in to join your lips in a kiss.

You were the one in control this time, dictating the intensity of the kiss, guiding the movements of James' lips on yours. He was too surprised to do more than try to keep up with the pace of your lips. His hands settled on your hips instinctively, pulling you tight against his body as he allowed himself to lose himself in your mouth for a moment. The mission, his doubts, the tension, all was forgotten as he melted under your caresses. 

Though his bliss was cut short when you suddenly pulled away, taking your wand and pointing it at the man who had picked up the briefcase. Reality hit him like a train, his brain working twice as hard to regain its functions so he could end this mission once and for all.

The Death Eater didn't give up without putting up a fight, pulling out his wand and casting spell after spell in your direction as he tried to escape. Neither of you recognized who your attacker was, which frightened you a little because it meant that the Dark Lord had more followers than the Order of the Phoenix expected or even knew about. Still you didn't let that affect you, fighting shoulder to shoulder until you incapacitated your unknown attacker.

"An empty diary?" you said in disbelief as you stared at the mysterious object inside the briefcase you had fought so hard to obtain. "We did all that for an empty diary?"

"It has to be important," James interjected as he used an incantation to restrain the Death Eater's wrists. "They wouldn't do all this for an insignificant empty diary. Albus will know what to do."

“I’m exhausted!” you exclaimed the moment you crossed the entrance threshold of James' house, dropping dramatically onto the couch. It had been a long day, but at least things had turned out well. Both Death Eaters were in custody awaiting trial for their crimes. Thanks to you the army of he who shall not be named had two less soldiers, and as insignificant as it seemed, it was a victory for everyone.

"We can go to sleep if you're tired and leave the ice cream for tomorrow" James said, knowing full well what your response would be.

"Never!" You jumped off the couch, running to the kitchen in search of the ice cream. James let out a laugh, shaking his head as he followed closely behind you. While you took the ice cream out of the freezer he grabbed spoons and a couple of bowls so you could share the frozen dessert without fighting over the pot.

After making a short toast celebrating your victory you engaged in casual conversation while enjoying the ice cream. You didn't even bother to go to the couch, settling into the kitchen without a problem. You sat on the counter next to the sink, swinging your legs playfully as you ate your ice cream. James stood next to you, leaning back on the counter with his body leaning slightly to the side so he could look at you better as you talked. He had a big smile on his face as he listened to you list the reasons why the cookies and cream ice cream was the best of all, completely enamored with the passion with which you addressed such trivial topics as ice cream flavors. 

He loved everything about you, even the things you saw as flaws. There was nothing he wanted more at that moment than to tell you how he felt about you, to hold you in his arms and kiss you until he couldn't feel his lips. But he knew he couldn't -he shouldn't-, your friendship was the most important thing to him and he couldn't lose it for anything in the world.

"I'm sorry for kissing you today," he apologized, breaking the small silence that had formed. "I hope it doesn't make things weird between us."

"Oh no don't worry about it," you downplayed it. "And I'm sorry for kissing you too."

"You know I care about you, right?" James put his empty ice cream bowl on the counter, turning completely around so he could look you in the eyes. You nodded your head slightly, losing yourself in the shine in his eyes. Those damn eyes of his! 

"I value our friendship, what we have is something special and I wouldn't want to see it ruined for a stupid decision I made under pressure." There was truth in his words, but there was also pain. He didn't want to ruin your friendship, but he also didn't want to keep being just your friend. He didn't regret kissing you, at least not entirely. A part of him would always be glad he did because no matter what, now he knew what your lips felt like on his.

"Yeah, I get it... Our friendship is the most important thing to me too," you said, but you couldn't stop your eyes from lowering to James' lips. He was too close to you, you could smell his cologne every time you breathed, feel his body heat tickling your side. You couldn't think straight, only feel the devastating weight of longing to feel his lips on yours. If you concentrated hard enough you could still taste his mouth and feel the ghost of his fingers caressing your hips. 

James didn't miss the way your eyes locked on his lips, unconsciously leaning closer and closer to you. A rebellious hand slid over your leg, caressing your thigh gently. Your gaze returned to his eyes then and James saw in them a special glow he had never noticed in them before. It was desire. You wanted him. You were as desperate to feel your lips together as he was. And now that he knew it, he didn't plan to leave you wanting for another second.

Once again he took it upon himself to close the little distance that separated you, bringing your lips together in a kiss full of desperation and repressed feelings. And even though this was the third time you had been in that situation that day, this time it felt different. This kiss was not the product of an impulsive decision made in the heat of the moment. No, this was a kiss that was long overdue, the product of the conscious decision of two people who had repressed their feelings for too long. And that made it taste that much sweeter, it made everything that much more special.

And as James lost himself in the warmth of your body wrapped around his he knew that things between you would never be the same again, but that was a good thing.

[therealcocoshady]

heyy girl, how you doin?? hope all good! I just saw your post saying your asks disappeared and if you do take requests I would like to send u one (cuz I already sent u and idk if it disappeared too lol🙈)

ahem, anywaay.. SO, imagine, 2000s!em x fem reader, where reader is a famous popstar and marshall mentions her in one of his songs and it’s basically a diss, since he doesn’t like pop/popstars, but he didn’t really expect her to drop a diss back, he didn’t actually expect her to say all that kind of shit, because she has a very painful tongue, and em was kinda taken aback by that.

so, it’s an award show, and she gets to perform there, and she literally performs that diss at the opening, just before em gets announced as the winner of the best male video (just like 2002 VMAs) and reader is the one to announce him, and she too says something snarky-ish about him like xtina.

you can continue from then, but preferably not cliché ending. it’s not necessary for them to kiss yk, like it would be so cliché. maybe sort of teasing, like chemistry between them, but def not kiss. honestly, you decide. I just want to see an award show in details, like em’s reaction after she performs her diss and basically makes fun of him in front of the whole world and all the celebs sitting there, through her song, his reaction after she announces him as the winner, his reaction after her comments. and if you can come up with some lyrics for her song please, please, please do it! but it’s totally fine if you can’t/won’t.

if u actually write this one, pleasee write in second person pov (I know most of ur fics are written in this way if not all anyway, but still lmao🥲)

so yeah, that’s basically it. I’m obsessed with your writing btw, it’s amazing. no, but for real, you are one of the very few em writers that portray reader accurately. I literally cringe at some and most of the fics I read abt him, cuz the reader is always either a typical pick me barbie or a tomboy that hates girlies, and you actually know how to write a perfect reader. I LOVEEE you sm💕💕

Hi ✨ Thank you so much for requesting this and taking the time to submit it again after the mysterious Ask disappearance ❤️.

I really enjoy your request but I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline, for the time being... I'm so sorry ! 😔 I do love that you're being very specific, but I think the level of detail would honestly require a mini-series. 😅 Or at least, I wouldn't be able to do it any other way... As you probably have figured out by now, I am virtually unable to keep my writing short and sweet, and if I wrote it, it would either take months, or I wouldn't do a great job and ruin your idea altogether...

I'm still taking requests, but between Kinktober, Recovery and Commissions, I have a lot going on at the moment, so I'll probably favor requests that allow for a shorter format and/or can be part of the mini-series we have going already (Kinktober series included because why not).

So, for that reason, feel free to submit your request (which is amazing by the way) to another writer ✨. And they do write it, please send me the link because I'll definitely enjoy reading this ! 👀

Also, THANK YOU SO MUCH for the huge compliment about my writing ✨. You have no idea how much it means to me ! To be fair, writing a Reader insert is super challenging because you want to write someone who is personable, that people will identify to, but it's also really hard not to go for something cliché and/or make the Reader some version of you (the author). It's been one of my biggest fears and insecurities and reading your compliment definitely made me happy ❤️.

I'm sending you tons of love and, again, I am so sorry that I had to decline your request. I hope you understand ❤️

[lemonxdaisybby]

Zhao and baker s/o was so cute!! how about if s/o cooked them something but it tasted really bad with Zhao Joongie and Ichiban??

I feel this, I cannot cook at allllll. Literally set rice on fire one time when attempting to boil it. My partner has now banned me from cooking. This was cute to write, thank u 💕

Ichiban Kasuga:

Poor man would freeze initially after the first bite, his eyes widening comically. He’d notice his s/o watching him anxiously, so would quickly try to hide any signs of disgust or shock, and would just try to power through the awful food.

Honestly, he could hate the taste of the food with every fibre in his body, and he’s still going to attempting to fucking eat every last scrap of it. Save this man. His eyes would be watering painfully, and his mouth would be working so hard to try and chew and swallow as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, he would be loudly declaring how amazing the food is, despite the obvious signs of distress.

He’d just really appreciate that his s/o made him something, regardless of the outcome. He wouldn’t want to hurt their feelings by telling them their food was bad.

His s/o would probably realise instantly that something about his reaction was off, and they’d proceed to taste the food themselves, finally tasting just how bad it is.

They’d be totally exasperated at Ichi for trying to eat it, despite the fact that it tastes inedible. When he tells them that he did it because he didn’t want them to feel bad, they’d definitely soften up.

Ichi would attempt to cheer his s/o up by reassuring them, pointing out that he can’t cook either, and would suggest that the two of them maybe learn together. He’d see it as a good opportunity to spend some wholesome quality time with his s/o, although RIP the kitchen. It’ll probably burn down.

Joon-Gi Han: 

Oh lord, this man is about to unintentionally hurt some feelings. He would be so blunt, without even realising it at first.

He would take a bite of the food his s/o prepared, and would just instantly look confused. He’d be so shocked at how bad it tastes, and would ask ‘what is this?’, because he simply refuses to believe this is actually edible food. His s/o would ask what was wrong at that point, and he’s gonna straight up tell them that it���s awful. No thoughts beforehand, he’s just going to blurt it out.

He would feel so bad once he realises he’s hurt his s/o’s feelings and sees the sad look on their face. He’d probably realise that he’s being very rude, considering his s/o had worked hard to make him a meal, even if it does taste disgusting.

He would immediately apologise and give his s/o a hug. He’d reassure them that he appreciates their attempt, and is touched that they thought to do something like this for him.

Joon-Gi would likely dote on his s/o for the rest of the day, as he’d still feel guilty for hurting their feelings, and would want to make up for his insensitive blunder.

Tianyou Zhao:

Zhao would definitely have the most normal and reasonable reaction to this. He’d be honest but really kind too.

He would initially be so happy when his s/o announces they’ve cooked for him, but after taking a few bites, he would soon go silent, analysing the taste.

His s/o likely would have anticipated that it may be hard to impress Zhao, considering how amazing at cooking he is himself. They’d immediately ask him how it was.

Food magician Zhao would somehow manage to pinpoint exactly where they went wrong. There’d be no awkwardness or hurt feelings, as he explains to his s/o what was wrong with the food. He’d be offering to cook with them next time, to show them the ropes. He’d be so hyped at the idea of cooking with his s/o, and his enthusiasm would be very contagious. His s/o would end up just as hyped.

S/o would officially become his new cooking apprentice.

[lxmelle]

hi xmllex!! I've been curious, are you japanese or just speak japanese? :-o

cuz your analyses often mentions the meanings of japanese names/words and such... it adds another layer which makes them so interesting and unique in my opinion !

if it's the latter, where or how did you learn? u don't have to answer tho !

while I'm here, do you have any drawing requests? I would love to draw something for u ! ^__^

Haha, thanks for being curious!! I’m happy to answer anything within reason, although my answer is likely going to be long and may not be particularly interesting! 🤪

Ah, I am hardly fluent in Japanese, nor am I Japanese! I try my best to be careful with how I interpret phrases and words, but I think there is a lot that I miss because of the loss of cultural understanding/context 😔 sorry if I’ve misled in any way.

Some people have a natural talent when it comes to languages and - alas, I am not one of them 🤣

I took some Japanese language lessons back when I was a teenager, did some self study (with manga, magazines, novels, cds, dictionaries & workbooks), and when I entered university, I did two years of Japanese as part of my electives.

Nothing since!

This was actually kind of quite some time ago. Until I stumbled upon the jjk fandom, I hadn’t practiced any Japanese. I’m rusty 🥲 kanji is difficult to learn. It is infinitely easier with new tech these days, but in all honesty it makes me lazy so I don’t think I progress/improve much.

So now… I get by through passively reading the language, use google translate liberally, but don’t tend to speak it because I lack the confidence to do so.

Especially when it comes to interacting with people who speak it online, I’m not confident when it comes to polite Japanese anyway, and it’s a bit of a minefield trying to grasp the online etiquette of the Japanese 😵‍💫 so I tend to avoid conversing in it, unless it’d be rude not to attempt.

I’m like this with other secondary languages too. I’m really only fluent in English 😓

As for a drawing request…...

What - Really!!? 🤩

Ooh - would you be so kind as to draw something for me? 🥹😍😃 ahhh!! I’ve been thinking about a few scenarios for the longest time, but they’ve definitely beyond my scope to produce 😂

I’m excited! Shall I give you options?? I don’t want to request something too much… 🥲 although I’m greedy and excited

Hmm, I’m in brainrot heaven/hell with satosugu, so i hope that’s okay with you!

You can choose whichever inspires you... Or please don’t hesitate to ask for another suggestion!!

So, maybe…

1. Little Mermaid/Prince Eric? 🤭

2. Blushing Gojo? 😃

3. Blushing satosugu??

4. Hanging out on the dorms’ rooftop in the middle of the night!

5. Geto tucking his fringe behind his ear 🥰

6. I like teacher AU too!!!

7. Someone styling the other person’s hair!

I hope one of those ideas tickles your fancy 💕