#Don't hesitate to come to me for anything

[softspokendove]

"Good Job Sweetheart"

pairings: bf!matt sturniolo x nerdy!reader

summary: matt decides to make his girlfriend feel good after she shows him she got an A+ on a test.

warnings: smut, blowjob f!receiving, nicknames (sweetheart, baby), fingering, praise kink, teasing, begging, reader is a bit shy and easy flustered, a little bit of overstimulation towards the end.

As you run through your boyfriend's house, completely oblivious to his two brothers watching tv in the living room, you speed past them and down the hallway towards your shared bedroom door. Your boyfriend's head shoots up at you excitedly pushing open the door and you run over jumping on top of him.

"I did it Matt! I aced the exam!" Matt furrows his eyebrows; his brain still hasn't caught up to speed. Instead, you push the exam paper in his hands, helping him figure it out. As his eyes scan over the page and the big letter A at the top of it a smile spreads on his face.

"Good job sweetheart, I knew you could do it." He sets down the paper on his side table and cups your face with both of his hands. He leans in giving you a passionate kiss in hopes of showing his approval. As he pulls back, he gives your now flushed face a once over, "So all that studying really paid off huh?"

You smile and nod your head as a response. You've been studying for endless nights trying to prepare for this exam, which your mind kept constantly telling you were gonna fail. Your boyfriend who knows how important school is to you, even tried to help you prepare. This consisted of you and Matt in the living room until 3 am reading post it cards until you soon fell asleep on his lap, completely exhausted.

You appreciated this about Matt. He knew how important this is to you, so he took time out of his day to help. He's never once complained about how much time you spend studying, if anything he just asks if you can do it in your shared bedroom so he can be near you.

"I'm so proud of you baby." Matt's words cause you to practically melt in his grasp. Matt knows all about how much you love receiving praise towards your accomplishments, especially from him. He finds it adorable how easily flustered and red you can get from it.

"Thank you." You smile once more at him before trying to get up off his lap, instead Matt's hands move to your hips and force you back down.

"How about I give you a reward for all your hard work?" He says it as a question.

"Like what?" Your obliviousness makes Matt smirk, and he leans towards you once again this time leaving small kisses along your neck. You gasp at the newfound sensation and subconsciously lean your head to the side to give him better access. Matt applies more pressure on his kisses, his hands roaming the sides of your body.

"You did so good on your test baby, you deserve to feel just as good." As his lips continue to attack your neck, your mind starts to become consumed by Matt and what he's doing. His hand wonders from your side down to your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. You feel a sense of need gather lower and lower, causing you to softly grind on Matt's growing bulge in his pants.

"We can't. It'll be too loud." Your words come out breathless as you keep grinding on Matt, nowhere close to stopping. Matt knows that you're talking about his brothers being close to the other side of the wall, and your record of screaming while Matt has his way with you.

"Then you'll have to be quiet, can you do that for me?" Matt pulls away and looks you dead in eye, you're hesitant for a few seconds and then nod your head. A huge part of you knows that you can't keep quiet with Matt, it's impossible. But he already feels so good you don't want to end here. "That's my girl." Matt gives you one more appreciative kiss before setting you flat against the bed. He gets up to walk over to the door, closing and locking it.

As he returns, he climbs over you nudging your legs open with his knee to give him room. His lips connect with yours again, the kiss filled with love and passion. Matt's knee comes up and pushes against your clit, making you moan into his mouth. He swallows up your noises and slips his tongue into you. His tongue dancing with yours, both of your saliva's mixing up and creating a mess. His hand tilts your head to the side allowing him a better angle.

When he finally pulls away, you're both gasping for air. "Arms up." You lift up your arms and feel the warmth of your shirt leave your body as Matt throws the clothing across the room. He kisses a trail from your neck down to your boobs, leaving small bites here and there. His one hand lifts up your lower body as his other hand slides below you and unclasps your bra, this also getting thrown.

Matt takes one of your nipples into his mouth and sucks, swirling his tongue around the nub. He rubs your other boob in an effort to give them the same attention. Once he feels satisfied with one nipple he moves on to the other one, doing the same with his mouth. Your hand finds its way into his hair and gives a small tug which brings Matt to moan against you.

He lets go of your nipple with a pop and starts kissing your body again, this time getting lower and lower. You squirm in anticipation and whine, desperately needing Matt to touch you there. "Easy baby, this is all about you. I promise to make you feel good."

His words lead to another whine escaping your throat, "Matt please."

"Please what baby?" His tone is teasing. He knows what you want, he just loves hearing you say it.

"You know what." You huff out. This makes Matt chuckle and start to slide your pants slowly down your legs, too slowly for your liking.

"No, I don't think I do. Let me hear you say it." After your pants are completely gone from your body, you spread your legs wider for him, hoping he'd get the hint. Your cheeks red from embarrassment. Instead of understanding, Matt just slides his hands up and down your thighs. Inching so close to where you need him then quickly retreating.

You feel tears start to prick your eyes as the need for him becomes too much. Your whole-body craving Matt. Needing him to touch you anywhere and everywhere. Your pussy leaking out more slick just thinking about him. That proven to be true when Matt notices a dark patch on your panties, his mouth watering at the sight. "Please touch me," You reach out for one of Matt's hands and place it on the wet spot, "here. I need you so bad. Please."

Your words go straight to Matt's cock causing it to throb in his pants. There's just something about listening to you beg for him. Your words are like honey to his ears. "There you go baby; you sound so good." He leans down and places kisses on your clit, the action making your hips rise towards his mouth. His lips getting wet from your need.

He grabs your panties and slides them down your body, dropping them onto the floor. He places a hand on your hip holding you firmly in place. "You gotta be quiet, okay?"

"I promise." The words leave your mouth in a hurry, hoping to get him to work faster. He kisses your clit again, this time without a layer of clothing to get in the way. The new feeling making you grip onto his hair again.

He slides his tongue down your folds and then back up. His saliva and tongue feeling blissful against your pussy. He moans at the taste of you and slips his tongue inside your hole, hoping to taste more. This catches you by surprise and a small moan leaves your throat, you see Matt raise his eyebrows at you, warning you to stay true to your promise.

He swirls his tongue around inside of you, once again moaning at the flavor of you, his noises getting muffled against you. You hear the small noise of Matt's tongue gliding in your juices and the sound of him slurping as much as he can up. He takes his tongue out and slides it back up your pussy before swirling around your clit.

His lips then attach to your clit and suck while his tongue swirls in a circle around it. You bite your bottom lip trying to silent your moans. Matt's hand squeezes your flesh on your thigh and then moves his hand to your pussy. His middle finger circles around your clit, teasing you. You try to raise your hips to get it inside of you, but Matt's hand doesn't let you budge.

After Matt feels he's teased you enough he enters his finger into you at a slow pace. You sigh in relief his fingers start moving back and forth at a good pace. The pleasure you've been searching for finally here. You start to feel a sudden need to hold on to something-anything. One of your hands grips onto Matt's hair while the other holds onto the sheets, knuckles turning white from how hard you're gripping. Matt moans again at feeling a tug on his strands of hair, the noise vibrating against your pussy making it flutter.

This spurs Matt on, him feeling your pussy throb and tighten against him. His finger increases its pace, your juices starting to drip down you and onto the sheets. The overwhelming pleasure raking up your body and getting stuck in your throat, your moans and whimpers desperately wanting to get out.

It doesn't help when Matt adds his ring finger, filling you up. Your walls clench around his fingers, your body getting closer and closer. You move your hand that was gripping the sheets towards your mouth and try to muffle your moans with your hand.

The core in your lower belly keeps tightening. "Matt, I'm gonna cum." The words sound muffled, but Matt knew what you said. You look down and see Matt's blue eyes staring right back at yours, this being his favorite view. Your clit throbs in Matt's mouth at the sight.

Matt's tongue starts swirling letters, his name. You feel the motion of his tongue form the letters M-A-T-T and then repeating. Your eyes roll back into your head as your legs tighten around Matt's head. "Come on baby, cum on my tongue." Matt's voice sending you over the edge.

You scream into your hand as the bubble finally explodes, your walls throbbing around Matt's fingers. He removes his fingers from inside you and brings them up towards your mouth. You take away your hand and suck around his digits, tasting the proof of your beautiful orgasm. Matt hums in satisfaction as his tongue reenters inside of you tasting your cum for himself.

Your hips jerk in oversensitivity as his tongue continues to wiggle around inside your walls. "Matt too much." You try to move away but his hand pulls you right back. He ignores your comment and shoves his fingers further down your mouth towards your throat, igniting a gag from you.

When he pulls his fingers out, they're covered in your salvia which is then returned inside of you when Matt lifts his head up. "Give me one more sweetheart, wanna make sure you feel as good as you should."

You go to protest, but Matt just dives back down to your pussy, leaving no room for arguing.

a/n: holy. I had all of this written out a week ago but the last couple sentences. It took me so long to finish this for what.

[4linos]

lost and found on christmas eve.

lee felix x gn!reader

synopsis: as you wait for felix in the christmas market, you receive a shocking call from the hospital telling you that felix has been hurt.

wc: 999

part 3/8 holiday series. 🎄

The chilly air bites at your skin as you stand beneath the glittering lights of the Christmas market, staring nervously at your phone for the umpteenth time. The joyful mood around you, laughter, the scent of gingerbread, the calm music playing feels harsh in comparison to the growing tension in your chest. Felix was supposed to meet you an hour ago, and despite your attempts to be patient, the minutes felt like they went on forever. You try to call. 

No response.

You remember his earlier message, in which he told you he was running late due to traffic and the icy ground, but his explanations aren't helping your growing worries. Felix isn't normally this late, and the longer he takes, the worse the gnawing feeling gets. Something's not right.

Then your phone rings. An unknown number appears on the screen, and your stomach sinks. You almost don't want to respond, a part of you wants to pretend everything is okay that he has only been caught up somewhere else. But you know. You know. With shaky fingertips, you swipe the screen to respond.

"Hello?"

There’s a brief pause before a deep, unfamiliar voice cuts through the line. “Is this Y/N?” 

“Yes, yes it is. Who’s this?” Your voice is already tight with anxiety.

“Hello, this is St. Mary’s Hospital. We’ve had a patient brought in, Felix Lee. He asked if we could call you to let you know he's here. He slipped on some ice while walking. He’s conscious, but he’s sustained some serious bruising and we’re taking precautions. You should come down right away.”

You freeze. Everything around you seems to stop. 

Felix. Hospital. Ice. 

Words blur together, and you can feel the ground beneath you shift as your heart races. Every possible bad scenario comes to mind, broken bones, concussions, internal problems, anything. You can't breathe or think clearly. All you can think about is that he's injured, and you need to get to him right away.

Without thinking, you hang up. You don't even remember what you said to the person on the phone, but the next thing you know, you're in a cab, your pulse pounding in your chest as the world outside whirls by in a swirl of lights and snowflakes.

As you run through the hospital doors, you can't help but imagine the worst-case scenario.

What if it's worse than they said?

Everything feels distant, as if the air around you has thickened with dread. The receptionist's words are a blur, and you don't even register her directions until you're standing before Felix's room, the door slightly open.

You hesitate. You take a deep breath and shakily push the door open.

The sight that greets you is nearly overwhelming. Felix is lying in a hospital bed, a sharp contrast to the upbeat, playful man you know. His face is pale, except for the heavy bruises that cover his cheek and jaw. His left arm is in a sling, and an IV is in his hand. His bright, sparkling eyes are open, but there’s a softness to them now, something fragile that you’ve never seen before.

And then he smiles. 

It's weak and apologetic, but it's there just for you. You freeze as fear floods your system once more, but this time it's a different type of panic. It is not simply fear. It's a state of frustration. It is a state of confusion.

He attempts to sit up, wincing at the effort. "Hey, I'm okay," he says, his voice hoarse but comforting. "I know I'm a mess, but it's not as awful as it looks. "I didn't want to scare you."

You can't talk. You can't think. All you can do is look at him, your heart thumping violently in your chest as the feelings you've been holding back spill forth. The concern. The frustration. The relief. The fear.

"Felix," you murmur, your voice cracking as the tears finally fall. "You scared me so bad. I did not know... I wasn't sure if you'd be okay, and I—" The words stick in your throat, and you struggle to keep your balance. "I thought... I thought I was going to lose you."

Felix's gaze softens immediately, as guilt washed over him. He attempts to raise his good hand toward you, his fingers softly caressing the side of your face, almost as if to apologize for making you feel this way.

"I'm so sorry," he says softly, his voice full of remorse. "I didn't mean to. I just don't know. I slipped. I was being careless. I never wanted you to go through that."

His words tumble out, each tinged with regret, but your emotions shift once again. The frustration, the irritation, begins to subside. It's still there, a slight edge, but what you're feeling right now is just... love. Love and relief. Felix is here, and he will be okay.

You felt his words wrap around your heart like a balm, and despite the tears streaming down your cheeks, a little smile tugged on your lips. "You're lucky you're so cute," you said, your voice full with emotion. Felix grinned gently then winced as his ankle throbbed. 

He drew you in, his arms cautiously wrapping around you, conscious of his injuries. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent and the warmth of his embrace, which anchored you. "I'm so sorry," he murmured softly into your hair. "I promise this won't happen again."

"I know," you said gently, your heart remaining heavy but beginning to ease. "Do not do anything like this again. Please." Felix lightly kissed the top of your head, bringing you closer to him. "I will never." I'll be here. Always." You stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other and allowing the stillness to settle about you. The frustration had vanished leaving only a strong sense of love and relief between you two. He was with you, so everything else could wait.

//

asks are always open if you have a question, concern or request!

[taglist: @lixies-favorite-cookie..]

[naoyoki]

can we get reader who ran away from home and is living on the streets and then toji stumbles into her after he got some stuff from the 7/11 and feels bad so he offers her to stay at his rundown apartment for a bit (can you add in some smut perhaps 🤭)

a/n : of course belleza !

✦★mdni , some angst , smut , afab!reader , loss of virginity implied , face fucking , cunnillingus , thigh biting , marking , fingering , oral , implied curse au .

PINNED PREVIOUSLY

"i don't have a home," your gaze was low, afflicted with guttural shame that twisted and churned at your stomach, or maybe it was the hunger, "not anymore, at least."

the man in front of you, frankly, made you pee your pants out of complete fear. yes, this man might be handsome, but he was menacing nonetheless. there were moments you had crossed paths, and the neon light of the 7/11 proved his features to be eerie. not his actions though, he wasn't around much but whenever he did he placed some food in front of you, and left without a word. but for whatever reason, he stayed today and began to...chat?

"haven't you asked for a job at the convinient store?"

you scoff, "don't you think i have already tried?" taking a fat chunk of the sandwich this bizarre man gave you, you continued, "they think i'm a junkie or something."

he crouched to your level, green eyes merging with your own, "you don't look like one though."

you laugh, even though it was muffled due to your full mouth, "because i'm not."

"want a job?"

you stop, ".....what—mmmgh, what kind of job?" you were homeless and poor, but your dignity and integrity was yet to be mangled. and if you had to run for your life in a few seconds because this guy turned out to be a psychopath, so be it.

"i need someone to clean my house, since i'm not home a lot. you up for it?" you exhaled your worries away. thank god it wasn't something fucked up! but hold on.

"you're...not gonna kill me, are you?" your words make him drop his head while he chuckles.

"not wasting my time with murder, c'mon." he extended his hand once he rose from the ground. your hand twitches in hesitance but nonetheless accept this kindness.

it took some months to adjust to toji's rhythm. he would come to his apartment, which wasn't anything pretty but livable nonetheless, spend three or four days around, then leave for weeks. his actions were completely shady in nature.

but with these months flying by, your relationship deepened. one summer night, when fireworks ignited the sky, you two had a heart to heart. conversations of sorrow, grief, and longing for life to be different turned into a hug and tear wiping, and this turned into you relinquishing to the desperation of closeness.

it was an unfamiliar yet thoroughly welcomed feeling of toji's tongue dancing on your cunt. you grabbed onto the strands of his dark hair as he split your folds open to insert his muscle. it was like a starved man tasting a five star meal for the first time, liking, teasing and nibbling on your skin.

"fuck you're so good, fuck keep going~" your hips moved at the compass of his rhythm. you jolt once you feel a finger penetrate you out of nowhere.

"shit! toji, what are you—oh~!"

"loosening you up." he said in-between kisses through your thighs. delight filled your heart by the blatant desire, of which has never known itself to you.

the tears you shed were due to a mix of emotions. pain, pleasure, comfort and happiness. quite the strange combo, but getting the embrace you have only dared to dream of. and you believe this feeling was mutual as toji held onto you delicately.

[4only1]

All I Want For Christmas Is You - Secret Santa Part 2 (4 Crews Edition)

Featuring: Jake Kim, Johan Seong, Samuel Seo, Eugene & Jerry Kwon Masterlist

-----------------------

Jake Kim

Alone sat you and Jake, waiting for the kettle to boil. He had apologized multiple times for his gift, saying you deserved better, but that Big Deal didn't have the funding.

When he first handed you the package of ramen, he couldn't even look you in the eyes. He was embarrassed that it was all he could get. A silly package of spicy ramen. They ate ramen everyday. He wanted to give you something special, this wasn't it.

“I'm sorry I couldn't get you anything else, seriously.” He apologized once more.

To be honest however, this couldn't be a more perfect gift to you. It was just you and Jake, the rest of Big Deal was out, so it left the two of you to enjoy a moment of solitude.

“Damn it. Seriously, I'm sorr-”

“Don't apologize for this. I love it. I like being alone with you.”

You turn to look Jake directly in the eyes as you speak. Your face has a light blush over it. Jake looked taken aback for a moment before speaking again, flirting a bit.

“Is it too late to make this a date?”

----------------------- Johan Seong

Johan handed you a pair of sneakers about 3 sizes too big for you. They were clearly worn before and smelled like it too. You took the pair, holding them as far away from you as possible.

“Oh Johan…how…sweet” Is really all you can say.

It was sweet, if they weren't gonna fall off your feet if you tried to wear them. Looking at Johan however, he gave you puppy dog eyes, hoping you liked his gift.

Even with his limited finances, he found a way to gift you something.

“Johan, let's go get food, I'll pay”

You swore you saw his imaginary tail wagging back and forth.

----------------------- Samuel Seo

“Why the fuck would I get you anything? What have you done for me?”

Sameul spoke with a disgusted look on his face. Like, how dare you have the audacity to ask him if he got you for secret santa. Which he did!

“Well excuse me for asking if you did the task you were assigned.” You defended yourself.

You shook your head, at both the audacity of this man and how you shouldn't have expected anything less than this behaviour. 

“You should be getting me a gift for how much of your shit I have to put up with”

The audacity grew.

----------------------- Eugene

Eugene stood in front of you with his usual close eyed smile. His hands were folded behind his back, while Mandeok held out a pair of keys to you.

You simply stared back, unsure of what the keys were for. Like with everything Eugene did, this had to come with a twist.

“Please (Y/n), accept the keys”

Eugene spoke in his disturbingly calm voice. With hesitation you took the keys, and when you did, Eugene's smile grew. Creepy.

“I'm so glad you accepted, now the car is downstairs, please arrive soon, we must leave quickly.”

That caused you to pause. Did he give you keys, to a car, just for you to drive him around?

“What? I am your chauffeur or something?” You question, joking a bit.

“Thank you for picking up on that so soon. I was worried you wouldn't have figured it out so quickly.”

You were just joking.

----------------------- Jerry Kwon

In Jerry's mind, each note was played with perfection. The meaning of the song was perfectly conveyed, displaying the genuine appreciation he had for you. His eyes were closed, waiting with anticipation to open them at the end and see your shocked face.

You did have a shocked look on your face, but not in the same sense Jerry was thinking. As he played, you winced everytime he would miss a note, but that didn't stop you from appreciating the hard work he put into this song.

Brad and Jason stood by your side, trying to hold in their laughter. As the song came to a close Jerry took a moment before opening his eyes, staring at you, waiting for your reaction.

Jason and Brad were about to burst out into laughter, when a sharp kick to both their shins from you silenced them. You looked at them, conveying the message, don't you dare laugh!

Tears were in your eyes, and you wiped a stray one away. Pride filled you as you turned towards Jerry.

“That was the most beautiful song I've ever heard. You wrote that for me! You're so talented!”

Part 1, Part 3

Welcome to part 2 of the secret santa series! 2 more parts to go, so don't feel worried if your favourite isn't on here quite yet. This series is meant to be something silly, not to be taken seriously, so if they act out of character, oh well.

Easiest to write for: Jerry Kwon

Hardest to write for: Eugene

[ssentimentals]

hihi love!! i’m so obsessed w your work 😭😭 you just do such a good job writing ajdhjshdhw 🥺🩷🩷

could i request hurt prompt 35 w woozi pls? a happy ending would be nice but it doesn’t have to be!! tysm love🥹🩷

- 🫧

hihi babie!! omg this is so nice?? thank you so much for being this kind!! hopefully you will like your request 💜

hurt prompt: 'i'm not sure how many coffees it takes for me to be happy, but so far, it's not twelve.'

'i feel like i should be happy and excited for the festive season but i just can't.' you mutter, adjusting your earphones. 'it's just been so shitty at work lately, you know? i don't have it in me to actually feel anything.'

your best friend lets you let it all out. she lets you go on and on about the work, your rant ending only when you come closer to your house. you also wanted to discuss jihoon with her, but that is going to wait for another time then. hanging you up, you sigh, slowing your stride. everything's been shitty lately not only at work; your relationship with jihoon started to crack as well. it's not very obvious, but the breach was formed and you feel like you both are just drifting further and further apart each day. coming home used to be the best part of your day, but now it's ad dreadful as going to work and it's just- sad. sadder than that is only your complete lack of any desire to do anything about it.

'welcome home,' jihoon greets, when you come in. he notices slight frown at your forehead and cautiously asks: 'is everything okay?'

'mhm.' you try to smile, but it comes off more as a grimace. 'how are you? have you already eaten? if yes i can just-'

'no,' jihoon interrupts. 'i waited for you.'

you blink. that is... new. you both didn't wait for each other last two months. your heart skips a beat at this, small flicker of hope reignites in your chest. this time you smile for real: 'oh, thank you. can you heat it up then? warm food will make me very happy now.'

jihoon smiles. 'i thought coffee makes you happy?'

'not right now. 'i'm not sure how many coffees it takes for me to be happy, but so far, it's not twelve.'

you quickly change and come back to the kitchen right at the time of jihoon setting up the table. you both work in silence; you feel tongue-tied, not knowing what to say and how to ask simple things. when it became so awkward to just be with jihoon? you eat in silence too, or more like you both push your food around the plate, not looking up at each other. it's incredibly tense and you're surprised that jihoon is the one who snaps first with a humourless chuckle: 'this is not working, is it?'

you can argue, of course. you can remind him that it's not working because of him. you can start fighting again. instead, you agree. 'yeah, it's.. not.'

jihoon nods. he's staring at his plate intently like leftover meatballs have answers to his question. when he looks up, his gaze is filled with hesitance and hope: 'do you want it? to work?'. he licks his lips, quickly adding: 'because i do. i just- past few months were hard. i sucked, i know. but like, i- i want this. to work. do you?'

crying with meatballs in your mouth is really not the best thing you can do, but you can't stop tears from falling down. swallowing without chewing and choking on the food, you quickly down your glass of water and let out sincere: 'i do. i'm sorry, i sucked too.'

jihoon nods. he looks like he wants to laugh at your red face from choking, but he wisely holds himself back. 'okay. then,' he takes a deep breath, 'we will finish this now and go to bed and talk about it.'

you nod. 'we can come up for something to get us into holiday mood?' you suggest hesitantly.

jihoon brightens up at this. 'yeah, sounds good.'

you both smile at each other and hope inside your chest flickers stronger than before. jihoon reaches out across the table and takes your hand in his. flicker of hope turns into a burning fire.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[anexthetxc]

"I won't let father make you do anything you don't want to," Ari said quickly when she saw the brief flicker across his expression. She meant the words, sitting up more straight in the bed and focusing on him. There wasn't much teasing left in her when it came to something as serious as taking someone else's life, something she'd done a few times when necessary, though she'd been hardened to do it after growing up in the world she did. "You can leave the killing to me, if that's what it comes down to. You can still back out of this if you don't want to see that."

There it was again. That emotional vulnerability that was so foreign to her, gaze soft as he sat down by her and Ari felt the weight of his exterior fall. He'd handled everything so well up until now she couldn't begin to understand the weight of it finally starting to crack him, and Ari didn't know what she was supposed to do at first, because she wasn't a physically affectionate person, not even with her own family that had an unbreakable bond.

Ari crawled out from under her blankets and reached out to silently pull Hyunwoo down next to the empty spot on her bed next to her. A moment of hesitation, mainly because she didn't know what she was supposed to do, then wrapping her arms around his waist and laying beside him. Ari's chin perched on his chest as she kicked the blankets back over them, curled against his side, silently watching him with her own expression flickering with concern. "Don't worry about your pride. I think tonight's...something different for both of us," she whispered, eyes closing as she took in their closeness and finding that it actually helped her calm her own worries. Her head drifted, cheek resting on his shoulder. "You'll be safe in all of this. I can promise you that."

 leaning  casually  against  the  doorframe,  his  arms  crossed  as  he  listened,  a  faint  smirk  tugging  at  his  lips  despite  the  darker  subject  matter.  It  was  ari's  knack  for  balancing  lighthearted  teasing  with  the  grim  reality  of  their  lives  that  never  failed  to  catch  him  off  guard.  he  appreciated  it,  though  it  made  the  weight  they  carried  a  little  easier  to  bear.  ❛  a  new  kind  of  torture  ?  sounds  like  your  dad's  been  brainstorming.  i  mean,  who  doesn't  love  innovation,  right  ?  ❜  he  quipped,  his  tone  dry  but  amused  as  he  pushed  off  the  frame  and  caught  the  pillow  she  tossed.

 her  comment  about  giving  him  the  chance  to  kill  the  second  brother  gave  him  pause.  hyunwoo  was  no  stranger  to  revenge,  it  was  a  currency  in  their  world.  but  the  idea  of  holding  another  life  in  his  hands,  even  one  belonging  to  someone  who  had  tried  to  take  his,  made  his  chest  tighten  slightly.  he  shook  it  off,  focusing  instead  on  the  teasing  note  in  ari's  voice  as  she  lightened  the  mood  again.  ❛  i  will  keep  that  in  mind.  you  are  not  exactly  subtle  about  offering  premium  cuddle  services,  you  know.  could  start  charging  for  it.  ❜  he  grinned  as  he  tossed  the  pillow  back  to  the  couch,  the  blanket  landing  in  a  heap  beside  it.  

 he  tilted  his  head,  considering  his  options  before  making  his  way  over  to  the  bed,  sitting  down  at  the  edge  near  her.  his  gaze  softened  as  he  looked  at  her,  his  tone  gentler  now.  ❛  but  if  it's  all  the  same  to  you  ..  i  think  i  will  take  my  chances  over  here.  you  are  right  -  it's  only  a  matter  of  time  before  the  call  comes.  might  as  well  enjoy  the  peace  while  we  have  got  it.  even  if  that  means  risking  my  pride  for  worldclass  cuddles.  ❜  the  smirk  returned,  though  his  eyes  lingered  on  hers,  betraying  a  flicker  of  something  deeper  an  unspoken  gratitude  for  the  way  she  managed  to  keep  him  grounded,  even  in  the  chaos.

[something-wild-calls]

Getting another part out before Christmas, woo! :D

Previous

FIRST

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cody trotted alongside Jordan, who had a rather chunky brilliant red and orange feathered staffwyrm clinging to him. He met its flame-colored eyes, but couldn't guess what it might be thinking.

They passed through clusters of buildings that nestled in patches of greenery and perched atop small hills. Today was the fifth day since his encounter with Jamie in the woods. He'd completely healed, and not for the first time he found himself enamored by the possibilities that came with magical healing.

It was a pleasant town, with folks they met along the way waving good-naturedly. Most had curious glints in their eyes at the sight of the stranger among them, but none held any hostility.

He had to wonder... how long would that last?

He gently wrapped his arm under the tattered bag draped over his shoulder, feeling comforted by the lump that weighed it down. To take his mind off his worries, he asked, “No Jamie today?”

“She might be around somewhere.” The chief shrugged. “She hangs out at the edge of the valley most of the time. Or with the griffins.”

“Griffins?” Cody glanced at the sky, as if the mention of them would summon some of the large winged beasts. He caught sight of some in the distance, but he couldn't make out any details on them. “Are there a lot around here?”

Jordan nodded. “There's a huge colony living in the northern cliffs of the valley. There's something of a long-held agreement between our town and them—We work together to keep the territory safe.”

The blond boy smiled. “Huh. Neat!” At the same time, a chill ran through him as well. He considered asking on a further thought, but decided it would be better to hold off. The need to ask may not even arise, but if it did, it might be better to be in the Chief's good graces than a stranger among his people.

As they continued along in discussion, the houses and buildings began to thin out, with the paths being edged in more and more wild growth.

Soon the path they walked was alone in the wilderness aside from lampposts to light the way come night. A smaller path split right from the larger main road that led out of town, and Jordan took Cody down this way. The trees and plant life filled the boy with a sense of calm. Birdsong filled the air, and the quacking of ducks sounded, rising in volume as they walked.

~ ~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~ ~

Cody stood in the entry way as the door clicked behind him, uncertain where to go from here.

His host, Frenzy, hung his hat on a coat rack nearby and gave Cody a nod. Without saying anything or changing his expression, he strode into the heart of the house. The blond boy noticed his gait was uneven, and the man now gripped a tall cane in his hand that clacked softly on the floor as it matched its owner's footsteps.

The place was cozy, dotted with dressers, bookshelves, and small trinkets. In the living room, a couple of comfortably padded chairs sat invitingly, a coffee table shared between them. Against a wall was a couch with small tables on each end.

Cody turned to Frenzy. "Do you, uh... does someone else here?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Just me." He beckoned. "I'll show you to your room."

With his bag strap in hands tight and slicked with sweat, he followed the man.

"Here y' are."

Frenzy flicked on the light, and Cody scanned the room. It wasn't terribly big, but it still seemed like a nice place to call his own, at least for the time being. As he stepped in, he let out the breath he'd been holding. "It's nice here, Frenzy."

"I like to be open to company. If needed."

Cody looked toward the older man, who stood in the doorway of his new resting place. His hands wringed the bag's strap anxiously. "You, ah, d-don't seem like the type to like company."

For a moment, Frenzy was silent, and his expression shifted, though Cody still couldn't read it. Then, he shrugged. "No. Not really. But I don't hate it."

The boy hesitated, still unsure about his new situation. "Uh, do you mind if I take a moment to get settled?"

Frenzy nodded again, backing away from the door. "Go right ahead." He paused a moment, and Cody caught a flicker of something in his gaze. "My home is your home now... 'Cept my room. Andy my workshop. Stay outta those. Please."

Cody nodded. "Yes, Sir."

Frenzy gently shut the door. Cody listened as the sound of his steps and the tapping of his cane faded away, and once he was alone, he approached the neatly made bed and sat on it with a sigh. A clock ticked on the wall in the silence, and the boy looked around.

A window caught his attention. He set his bag gently on the bed and walked over to it, fiddling with the latch. He was happy to find it slid open smoothly, and no screen barred it. Leaving it open a considerable amount, he returned to the bed. Before sitting, he leaned over to see what kind of space was underneath it.

Plenty.

Good.

Finally he sat back on the bed next to his bag, and, carefully, he unzipped it. The pink head of Pari peeked out at him, the russet mark across her face beaming a false grin while her pale purple eyes shone anxiously.

Still, they exchanged a smile as Cody gently cupped her head in his hand. He leaned in close to her, glancing at the door.

In a whisper, he said, "Guess we're gonna have to be careful again, Pari." He sighed. "Just until I can find a good time and way to tell him about you..."

And what for?

The mental voice growled, low and hopeless.

Just to be back on the road, traveling endlessly to each town that will let you in only long enough to gather your senses.

Cody laid back onto the bed, his legs hanging where he'd sat them.

He tried to tell off the voice of doubt, but it persisted.

We should just thank Frenzy and Jordan for their willingness to help and move on. There's no point in staying.

Pari hopped onto the boy's chest, gazing down at him with concern.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a crouch on top of him, and she nuzzled his chin. A purr rattled in her throat.

At that, Cody couldn't help smiling.

How many people were bold enough to learn that imps could purr?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Introducing a new cast member, ~Frenzy~

Previous

FIRST

[wikipediette]

emotional motion sickness

General g/n headcanons; mentions of abuse dynamics in relationships, talks of physical, emotional, and mental abuse, if these topics trigger you please dont read

so I'll start with the idea of being on earth with Jimmy, I'd like to imagine that curly set you two up, hoping that you'd rub off on him

Your first date you meet and you're charmed by him, he's a sarcastic, flirty, handsome man with a sense of humor (albeit a dry sense of humor)

people like Jimmy are VERY charming and can pretend to be a certain person to draw you in. Then slowly up the ante until you feel trapped

He starts off cute, comes a little late to dates, clothes wrinkled, flowers bent. But hes apologetic and you cant help but feel bad for him

As you get deeper into the relationship the faults start to show.

Maybe a year or so in he starts asking about friends. Nothing too dramatic just an occasional "who's that?"

And at first its cute! He's just worried and protective. But it slowly gets more and more controlling.

One of the first things an abuser will do is isolate you to make it hard to leave them. so he asks you to stop talking to a few people, coworkers or group project friends.

if you question it he will get very intense very fast and uestion why your so hesitant to cut them off.

"is there something your not telling me?" He asks, he had both arms caging you down onto your armchair, his body leaned down to look at you closely. "No!" You exclaim sitting up as best you can with him so close, "I just think it's weird you suddenly aren't ok with me and danny talking anymore!" He laughs but it holds no humor if the look on his face is anything to go by "I know you probably didn't notice but he's constantly flirting with you, he obviously wants to fuck you." you begin to mentally look over your conversations in your head, had he? Was there something you missed? Something misinterpreted? "Really?" You ask, doubting if you really should be talking to a man who liked you while in a relationship. "yes! that's why I don't want you talking to him, he's trying to take advantage of you." you sigh before nodding "yeah, sorry I... didn't even realize" "its fine" he says softly holding the back of your head to lead you into a kiss "I just want to keep you safe".

so you bite and agree, you slowly begin to cut less important people out. As you do he'll pavlov you, with each friend you pick off he'll love bomb you. kisses, hugs, gifts, sex, sweet talk, pet names, bragging about you. He'll play into whatever you want as long as you follow his rules.

When it comes to the biggest hitters like family, close circle friends, and best friends he'll wait a few years to cut them out

He'll plant ideas of a us vs them mentality.

they just want to break us apart.

they're jealous of us.

your too good for them.

they don't treat you right.

they're the abusers.

i'm the only one who REALLY loves you

and after so many years with him, despite your ups and downs you cant help but do what he says because you just don't see him as this horrible monster everyone's making him out to be.

you love him and he loves you!

people just don't understand your dynamic,

they don't know him like you do.

when it's bad its bad but when it's good its so damn good.

and his lonely act works well too, besides curly he doesn't really have any friends.

he has acquaintances and coworkers, but friends? no.

if you broke up with him he'd have no one. and you've been together so long it'd be such a jump. going from deep conversations and intense love to asking about a person's favorite color? fuck that.

when he has you were he wants you that's when all hell breaks loose.

you barely go anywhere and if you do he either needs your location the whole time (probably makes you get life360) or has to be with you, hand on hip, glaring at anyone who talks to you.

when you two get invited to parties he'll play nice (after all he is in public) and let you roam.

you'll talk to people you haven't in a bit while he drinks and talks to curly.

and its times like that that makes the worst moments feel worth it.

speaking of the worst moments.....he's a very jealous person, he constantly is worried if you're cheating on him.

he'll argue with you and wont relent till your crying and exhausted.

then once he thinks you've proved yourself he'll scoop you up and let you cry on his shoulder. murmuring that he loves you and he sorry.

he'll open up, say he knows there's something wrong with him, and he's sorry hes like this, that you deserve better and he's trying.

"I'm sorry" Jimmy softly says into your ear. cradling you like a baby in his arms. your arms are around his neck, your eyes burn with drying tears and sleep, your nose is stuffy, your throat is dry from yelling and sobbing for hours. the rocking isn't helping your sleepiness. "I'm sorry, I know there's something wrong with me. Please don't leave me"

trying to leave in these situations is probably the worst thing you could do

now I'm not under the impression that Jimmy would be overly physically abusive given that his character is all about the subtleties of abuse.

BUT! I do believe he'd restrain you, push you, grab you harder than needed, ect. If you tried to leave him while arguing.

He doesn't like you taking control of the situation and it gets him very mad, as a result he'll force you to stay where he wants.

But he doesn't explicitly hit you as that would leave marks

he wouldn't want you to be bruised because that would bring suspicion to the safety of your relationship.

And most of the relationships abuse is kept to a level that could pass as normal to others.

I think having a friend like curly in these moments that always tries to smooth things over without any bridge burning would definitely lead to him unintentionally gaslighting you about it.

side note: ok this is the first time I've really written in this format, made a romantic x reader, AND this is also my first time posting x reader onto Tumblr lol. apologies if this is ooc I never refreshed myself on Jimmy's character simply bc I don't have the time for that lol. this is also based off of my general knowledge of abusive relationships. if anyone wants more plz let me know i really wanted to try writing fanfiction seriously for a while now lmao, bye :)

[ballerinaclara]

You aren't my original Michael, but I love you just as much. Don't hesitate to come to me with anything. And please, call me Mama. Or Mom, or something like that.

*An anonymous number sends you this picture*

Oh? What's this?

[allison3k0]

MR S UPDATE - Friday (BIG DAY OML) (Last day of school before the winter break)

I F*CKING HUGGED HIM TODAY.

Alright, so, today was chill cuz it was the last day of school before the winter break, and since I was done my animation project tomorrow, during animation (3rd period) I asked my anim teacher if I could go see Mr S cuz I had something to give him, and he let me go so I started going. My anim period is also Mr S' prep so it works out well to give him stuff without him being in a rush to leave or anything.

So I peaked my head into his room cuz he left the door open, and it was dark so I was wondered if he was there, and he was in fact there, so I saw him and said "Hey!" and he said "Hey!" and then I walked in with the mug with the candy canes and said "So, I have something for you" and set the mug down on the desk in front of him and he said "Thank you!" and then I set down the two packets of hot choco I brought him too, and he said "Thank you" again. He picked up the mug and looked at it and said "Oh my gosh, did you draw this?" and I said "Yeah, I drew it myself" and he said "Oh my gosh this is adorable" and I said "Thank you!" and then I said "I also have this" and put a crochet little duck made with grey yarn for the body and green yarn for the accents like the bill and feet and a little tuft of hair on top of its head (it reminded me of him for some reason), and he said "Oh my gosh, (as if he was surprised by the number of things) I didn't know you crochet, I'll have to make sure my dog doesn't get this" and I said "Yeah be careful your dog doesn't get it. Yeah, I don't crochet often, but I learned from my mom" and he said "Wow, thank you so much!" and I said "No problem" and then I was thinking about asking him for a hug but I kept hesitating and then I chickened out, and then he was saying stuff to end the convo like "Well, I hope you have a good break, a good holiday, and I'll see you in the new year." and I interrupted him saying "Wait, I'm coming in after school" and he said "Oh, you're coming in after school?" and I said "Yeah" and then he said "Oh okay" and then I said "I'll see you later then!" and he said "See you later!" and then I left to go back to class.

So then fourth period I was just daydreaming about how to get a hug from him, and what would happen after school, going through every possible scenario and how to word it when I ask for a hug cuz I'd much rather ask than assume he's okay with it and embarrass myself. That period dragged on foreverrrr and then I was finally able to go to my locker and then go see Mr S.

I went to his classroom after school as usual but he was talking with his EA so I was waiting til they were done to say hi, and I did, and they both said hi back. And Mr S said "Hi, how was the rest of your day?" and I said "Great, actually" and he said "Great actually?" and I said "Yeah, psych was really chill, we had a lesson but it was a chill lesson and we had a big class discussion in between too" and he seemed genuinely interested. And then his EA left and we said happy holidays and whatnot. Me and Mr S talked about his plans for the break, and he said "WE'RE going to (town name) to (continues)" like I'm sorry, who tf is WE? He was talking about his fam before that, so maybe he was referring to his fam? But maybe he was referring to a partner? Then he asked me about my plans and I mentioned how I'm going to see a movie tomorrow (still not sure if that's actually happening) but he asked who I'm going to see it with, so I told him "My friend E (Insert first name here, we'll call her Bestie E or E), the one that took me to her cousin's wedding" and he was like "Oh" but like... Why does it matter to him who I go with? Is he trying to figure out if I'm single? Cuz I am 😏.

But anyways, we continued talking a while until he started packing up and I started packing up so I wouldn't miss my chance to hug him while I had it, but holy sh he gets ready fast and he was at the door ready to lock it while it was open, and he was saying "Well, have a great break, don't work too much on school stuff" and I missed the rest cuz I was panicking inside cuz he was about to leave and I wasn't about to let that opportunity go, so I put down my backpack and purse and said "Wait, can I hug you?" in the most frail, barely audible, tiny, lowercase voice ever 😭 and he said "Sure, of course!" AND GAVE ME THE CUTEST MOST GENUINE SMILE I'VE EVER SEEN HIM HAVE. IT WAS LIKE A FACE OF ADMIRATION OR ADORATION. And omg the hug was so short it's so sad but when I first hugged him, I PUT MY ARMS AROUND HIM UNDER HIS ARMS AND HE PUT HIS ARMS AROUND MY SHOULDERS KIND OF- I JUST REALIZED I HUGGED HIS BODY LIKE I TOUCHED HIS BODY OMFG SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP FOAMING AT THE MOUTH- Anyways, he was so nice and warm, AND FOR A SECOND I LAID MY HEAD ON HIS SHOULDER WHILE WE HUGGED, and then I felt the hug was gonna get awkward if it went any longer, but he didn't exactly pull away, I just kinda felt like it was time to let go so I did and the hug was over 😭 it was so short.

When it was over I said "I haven't had a hug in a while" and he said "Oh really?" and I said "Yeah, thank you" and he said "No problem!" with the cutest ahh smile I've ever seen on him before. And we were getting ready to part ways so I said "Alright, thank you so much" and he said "Of course!" and then I said "Bye! See you after the break!" and he said "Bye! Have a great break!" and then I left.

After I left, my hands were shaking so much and so were my knees and I could barely walk so I had to stand outside for a minute before leaving to go home.

[lcvehee]

lost and found (smau)

#20. the wrong impression?

꩜ .ᐟ wc: 0.9k

꩜ .ᐟ warnings: a little bit of angst?

“so, do you guys have plans after this?” yeri mused outloud, as she sipped on her mimosa.

“i'm going to eunseok's place,” giselle answered, a smile tugging at her lips. yeri's eyes twinkled in enthusiasm. “ah, young love.”

anton snorted. “you're still young, what do you mean?” 

yeri shrugged. “i'm still the oldest, and i'm literally dating y/n's brother. i feel like a big sister watching her siblings grow up.”

giselle let out an ‘aww’, squeezing her friend's hand. anton wrinkled his nose, yet a small grin appeared on his face. “you're getting sappy,” he muttered, snickering.

she rolled her eyes, dismissing his comment. “anton? y/n? what are your plans?”

anton quickly replies with a shrug. "i'll catch up on sleep."

you all nod in understanding, then yeri's eyes turn to you expectantly. before you could respond, giselle interjected, "it involves sohee, right?"

she’s absolutely right.

you facepalmed yourself in your head. pretending to be best friends with him isn’t convincing anyone. what am i even doing? you glanced down at your empty plate, trying to look composed. the fact that i’m seeing him today isn’t helping. we really need to rethink our strategy…

“y/n?” yeri’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, her brow arched in curiosity.

you blinked, realizing you've taken too long to respond. “uh, yeah,” you said quickly, “we're just gonna hang out at his place. nothing major.”

anton narrowed his eyes slightly, tilting his head. “sohee, huh?” his tone is casual, but there’s an edge of curiosity in his eyes that made your stomach tighten. “you’ve been studying with him an awful lot lately.”

giselle smirked, clearly enjoying the tension. “yeah, y/n, what could you two be up to, now that it's summer break…” she trailed off.

you forced a laugh, hoping it sounds natural. “come on, it’s not like that. i don't like him that.”

yeri leaned her chin on her hand, her gaze inquisitive. “then what is it like?”

your heart skipped a beat. you could feel their eyes on you, waiting, watching. 

“it’s nothing,” you said a bit too quickly, brushing them off with a wave of my hand. “we’ve gotten close. right, but that's all it is.”

anton raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “close enough that you see him more than you see me?”

your face reddened at the accusation. “it’s not like that,” you insisted, but your voice seemed a little too defensive.

they’re not buying it. 

giselle grinned knowingly. “whatever you say, y/n.”

yeri smiled but didn't push further, and the conversation moved on—at least for now.

— a few hours later.

sohee was already waiting when you arrived, sitting casually on the bench near the park entrance in front of his apartment. he spotted you and waved, his usual smile plastered across his face. you managed to return a small smile, but the weight of your thoughts pulled at your chest.

“so,” you said, as you looked around, gesturing at the park, "i thought we were gonna hang out in your apartment?"

"the weather's nice, so why not?" he said as he patted the space beside him. "sit down, you must be tired from walking in the heat."

as you lowered yourself onto the bench, he handed you a beer from a plastic bag. "for old time's sake?" he grinned.

"we're never beating the alcoholics allegations, you know?" you snorted, grabbing the cold can. "but sure."

he rolled his eyes as he gulped down the beverage.

“so… how was your last exam?” you asked, after taking a sip.

he smiled, nodding to himself. "it went well, i was worried for nothing."

you nudged him with your elbow. "i knew you could do it!"

he laughed, rubbing the nape of his neck. 

as you two talked about everything and anything, time seemed to be frozen. and yet, your mind couldn't help but wander. you stared at your lap, deep in thought. 

"what's wrong? something happened?" his tone was breezy, light as always. "looks like you've got something on your mind."

you hesitated, gaze flitting to his concerned features, then nodded. “yeah, actually."

his smile faltered slightly. “oh. okay, what’s up?”

you glanced down at your hands, fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. “i just think… maybe we should stop hanging out so much..." you trailed off. "our plan backfired!" you exclaimed, gesturing animatedly. "it’s giving the wrong impression.”

there was a pause—a long, heavy silence that makes your heart pound. when you finally glanced back at him, his expression was unreadable, but you noticed the way his shoulders tensed.

“the wrong impression?” he said softly, as if he was testing the words out.

you nodded quickly, rushing to explain. "yeah, like… people are starting to think there’s something going on between us, and it’s weird—”

“it’s what?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

you paused, unsure how to answer. he looked down, his fingers lightly tapping against the edge of the bench. “you're right. that makes sense, i guess,” he said after a moment, his tone carefully neutral.

“sohee? you sure about—”

“no, it’s fine,” he interrupted, his voice still calm but a little unsteady. he chuckled dryly; his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

“i mean, i get it. if it’s making things weird for you, then… yeah, maybe it wasn't a good idea after all.”

you felt a pang in your chest at how distant he suddenly seemed. “wait—”

“just what were we thinking, y/n?,” he laughed bitterly, standing up and fixing his cap. he avoided looking at you, his gaze fixed somewhere in the horizon. “i don’t want to make things harder for you.”

the tone of his voice made your throat tighten. “sohee, wait—”

“i need to go,” he said quickly, cutting you off before you could finish, "i have my shift, so i gotta get ready."

then he turned and walked away, his steps slow and hesitant.

you watched him disappear down the path, your chest heavy with words left unsaid. in the stillness that ensues, you wonder if the wrong impression wasn’t so wrong after all.

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© lcvehee | taglist is open: @secretiny @totheseok @renjuneoo @molensworld @wccycc @onlyhyunjin @mystarsohee @llearlert @nujeskz @yoursyuno @minkkumaz @rikisluv @xcosmi @zularen @vixensss @sftsohee

[magics-neptunes-things]

Mockingjay - Part 14

Hi guys!

We are at the end of this story... And this is the sad ending of it. There will have another part, were you can read an happy ending, coming in like one hour. Don't hesitate to tell me which one you enjoy the most!

And thank again for the amount of love, encouragement and everything I had during this story. It wasn't always easy to write it to be honest, it was an heavy one. But i liked it anyway.

Lot of love ♥

TW : Death, fight, angst, no happy ending, blood

Chapter Before

As they both are talking and fighting, neither Ona nor Tony sees the shape of the person coming next to them. Panting, the silhouette takes some time to take their breath. The fight was hard, as expected. Both Lucy and Kayla come from career districts, they both learned how to fight during their childhood and were almost prepared for the Games.

“Lucy won’t let anything happen to me” Ona states confidently.

She’s sure about what she’s saying, everyone can see it in her eyes. Ona doesn’t blink when she looks at Tony, who seems almost amused by her.

“Do you think so? I don’t see her here for now” he laughs softly.

His laugh is empty, without any fun. He looks like a psychopath in Ona’s mind, but she thinks it’s maybe better not to push him further. He seems close to a mental breakdown.

His hand is shaking when he raises it, showing his sword near Ona’s throat. Ona flinches but doesn’t try to back off. She doesn’t want him to think that he has any power over her.

“I could kill you, right now. She wouldn’t be able to do anything against it.”

He seems so sure of himself, looking at her from above, his smirks talking for him. But Ona has never had so little respect for him since the beginning. The brunette doesn’t even want to fight against him, he’s here standing while she’s sitting on the ground. How can someone’s ego be like this?

“Do you really think so?”

Tony turns around to face the person who just talked and Ona jumps on her feet when she sees them. It’s Lucy. Tony just has time to turn around before being hit right in the face. He falls somewhere near Ona, making her fall back with him.

Ona groans when she hits her head on a tree root, right where she was already hurt. She tries to get away from Tony as fast as possible, but the boy is grabbing her legs for his dear life, trying to drag her to him. But he’s less strong with his arms than he was at the beginning, Ona hurt him there before, and she knows it.

She manages to kick him in the chin, making him go back. Ona goes back on all four, standing again when she thinks that she’s away enough from Tony. He’s bleeding from his mouth and Ona deduces that he might have bitten his tongue.

Just when he was going to jump on Ona, Lucy grabs him by the collar of his jacket.

“Don’t even think about it” she groans, pushing him away.

Lucy is smaller, but Ona has to say that with her anger and the hammer in her hand… She looks impressive. Her green eyes stay on Tony, even when she throws the bow and the arrows at Ona.

But Tony just sneers, arming his hand and his sword before talking again.

“I don’t have any problem to kill you before killing her”

“Aren’t you sick of hearing you?” Lucy snaps.

Ona sees Tony’s face becoming darker, clearly not liking Lucy’s comment. Ona can’t help but smile at Lucy’s comment, the sarcasm of the girl always making her smile. She takes advantage of this little moment to have a better look at her girlfriend. She has blood on her body but doesn’t really seem hurt. She has some cuts on her arms, but nothing seems really bad.

“I’m sick of you” he answers.

Lucy snorts this time, waiting for him to attack first. He’s turning his back to Ona and the younger girl wonders if she should take advantage of it, but it seems to her that Lucy wants to defeat Tony alone. She has something to deal with, beginning with the fact that Tony seems to want what is hers.

The fight starts and is maybe not really fair, Tony has a sword which is longer than Lucy’s hammer, in addition to the fact that he’s bigger and then has bigger movements. But Lucy still manages to hit him several times, using her smaller form to move faster than him.

That was until…

“Wolves!”

Ona scream is a little bit ignored by the two others to be honest, until Lucy spots the urgence in Ona’s voice when she talks again.

“Lucy! Wolves!”

Lucy turns to the direction Ona is pointing, before groaning when Tony takes advantage of it to hit her on the arm. Lucy groans in pain and almost throws her hammer on Tony’s face, helped by the rush of adrenaline.

Just like Ona, she saw the four wolves walking in their direction, in the form of a diamond. They are white and she would probably have found them beautiful if they weren’t explicitly looking for their next meal.

Ona is fully concentrated on the animals, forgetting Tony for several seconds.

Wrong move.

The boy, seeing Ona not far from him, raises his sword once again and hits her right in her stomach. The pain is so intense that Ona isn’t able to say anything. It’s Lucy who screams something that the brunette isn’t able to understand.

She feels someone grabbing her and holding her protectively against their breast, before the person starts to run. Ona doesn’t need a lot of time to recognize Lucy.

“It’s okay, you will be okay” Lucy keeps saying.

Ona doesn’t really understand what is happening when she feels herself being shaken. But she trusts Lucy and if she says that she will be okay, she knows that she will be. It’s only the sound of the canon who makes her open her eyes again.

Her vision is gloomy, but she still can see Lucy’s face right above her very clearly.

“Is he…” she whispers.

“Dead. The wolves…”

Lucy stops her sentence, but she doesn’t have to talk more for Ona to understand. She’s glad that the animals chose the one of the three who will give them the most fresh meat.

“I’m so cold” Ona whispers again.

And it looks like it’s starting to rain. She feels one or two drops of water on her face, seeming strangely hot against her cold skin. But when she looks at Lucy again, she understands. It’s not raining. Lucy is crying.

“I’m dying”

She can only whisper for now, her strength just not here anymore. Lucy shakes her head, but Ona isn’t sure if it’s because she’s answering her that she isn’t, or if Lucy just couldn’t stand the idea.

“It’s okay” Ona whispers. “We are going to be okay”

She concentrates all of her strength to raise her hand and softly strokes Lucy’s face.

Lucy sighs softly when the sun strokes her face softly, sneaking between the blinds she hadn’t correctly closed last night. The sun is not something usual at this part of the year here, but today is a special day. It’s Ona’s birthday.

It has always been a shining day, just like if her dead girlfriend keeps sending her sign, saying that she’s still here. Just like she promised her before dying in the arena, seven years ago.

Lucy rolls on her belly, hiding her face in a pillow. She hates those days, but somehow it makes her heart flutter to see how many people still have clear memories of Ona. And she loves the idea that she isn’t the only one to celebrate with her despite everything.

Lucy just had the time to take a shower and get dressed before someone knocks on the door of her house. But Lucy smiles softly, knowing perfectly who it is. When she opens the door, a small silhouette jumps in her legs and Lucy takes the small girl from the ground to cuddle her.

Laia, Joan and Aitana’s daughter, is Ona’s certified copy. She has the same smile, the same cheeky grin and the same big doe eyes.

After the Games, Lucy made the decision not to come back to her District, but to come leave with Ona’s family instead. She got the Batlle’s approval before coming here, of course. It made several adjustments with the Capitol, but they finally agreed to give her a house in the victory quarter of the 8 and not the 4.

Then she gave the house to Joan and Aitana, choosing to live in Ona’s former flat. It’s maybe not the healthiest way to live her grief and mourn her girlfriend, but like she told her parents, she’s old enough to know what she wants to do.

The Batlle never judged her. They welcomed her into their family, making her feel really integrated in a family for the first time in her life. They maybe aren’t her blood family, but they are her chosen one and she would give them everything.

When Ona’s mother started to call her “Mija”, she understood clearly that the things were reciprocated.

“How are you?” Aitana asks Lucy, hugging her when her daughter finally agrees to go back on the ground.

Lucy just shrugs before accepting Joan’s hug. They are supposed to be at the train station in twenty minutes, to greet Alexia’s family. Like every year, Alexia and Olga are coming here to be with Lucy and the Batlle.

This year they will be here with a new addition though. They welcomed a little girl less than one year ago.

Keeping her promise, Alexia named her Ona.

“Tia I’m hungry”

Lucy looks back at her niece, who crossed her arm on her chest with her signature pout on her face. Lucy feels her heart clenched when she sees one more time a perfect copy of Ona.

“Didn’t you have breakfast?” Lucy smiles at the little girl.

She retains a bigger smile when she sees the girl looking guilty at her parents before answering. She knows that look too.

“Sí… But I’d like a mince pie, please”

“Of course” Lucy laughs softly. “Can I?” she asks Joan.

He nods softly and Lucy leaves for her kitchen to grab what to please her niece. This is something Lucy likes to cook from time to time and Laia loves them. Lucy always has at least one for Laia, no matter what. She still hears Aitana talking while rummaging in her cupboard.

“You can eat it while we are going to the train station, okay? Otherwise, we’ll be late”

The walk to the train station is pretty quiet from Lucy’s side, but the attention of the others is taken by Laia who is happily walking and running around. Ona’s parents join them at some point, and they all walk together to get to Alexia and Olga.

At some point, Ona’s mother grabs Lucy’s arm to link them together. They don’t have to talk, just an exchange of regards makes them understand each other. It is sometimes strange for Lucy to see that another woman understands her easier than her mother ever did.

Lucy misses her niece and her nephew, and she goes from time to time to District 4 to see them, but that's all. Going back there is very difficult for her, every time it’s like she’s separated from Ona once again.

“The train’s coming!” Laia says, pointing at it.

The four-year-old doesn’t wait for anything or anyone before starting to run towards the train.

“Laia don’t run there!”

Joan’s voice is audible by far without any doubt, but Aitana grabs his arm.

“It’s okay. She’s safe” she points out.

“But the train…”

“She’s safe.”

The married couple look at each other before Joan sighs. No one around says anything else, but Lucy understands perfectly. Joan lost her little sister; she was one of the most important people in his life. He might be dead afraid for her daughter, wondering how he can protect her from finding herself in the arena too.

They finally arrive at the train station, catching Laia who is jumping on her feet, waiting for the three people to get out of it.

Lucy can’t help but smile softly when she sees the small baby in Olga’s arms. She knows the two girls perfectly now. She saw her a lot during those last years and Alexia wrote to her every month to exchange news.

She heard a lot about Alexia thanks to Ona, and when Lucy got out of the arena winning, Alexia reached her very quickly. Alexia was devastated to have lost Ona, but she never blamed Lucy for anything. Just like the others finally.

Lucy hates it.

She would like someone who thinks like her. She doesn’t know why she need someone to blame her for Ona’s death, but the understanding and the care she received from anyone is making everything more painful.

Everyone coos while seeing the baby, who seems to have blond hair and light eyes, just like Alexia. To be fair, it’s a very beautiful baby.

“Do you want to hold her?” Alexia asks Lucy.

“Oh… I don’t know” Lucy mumbles.

“Here, take her”

Lucy mumbles something more, but Alexia ignores it prodigiously and softly puts her daughter in Lucy’s arms. The baby is looking at her already when Lucy puts her eyes on her.

A new life, an innocent one that she has to protect too, at any cost.

Like every other year, they went to Ona’s memorial together, putting Ona’s favourite flowers on her statue’s feet. And like every year, Lucy remembers Ona's last words.

“Just live your life. I’ll be waiting for you, wherever I am. Wherever you are.”

She still can hear Ona’s voice perfectly. She’s glad that with time neither her voice nor her face is blurred. She wouldn’t have stood it.

Lucy lost herself in the contemplation of the statue, Ona’s life froze in time. The statue was made by the most talented person in the Capitol, it is really similar to Ona. The colour has been perfectly chosen, whether it’s the colour of her skin, eyes or hair. But Lucy misses her laugh, the warmth of her skin and the wrinkles in the corner of her eyes when she smiles.

“We’re going back, Luce” Ona’s dad says softly.

Lucy turns away from the statue to look at her father-in-law. He has a soft smile and Lucy realises that Olga is just behind him. Lucy nods at him and she needs two seconds to understand why Olga is taking steps to approach her.

She still has Baby Ona in her arms, having cradled her almost unconsciously all this time. The little girl finally falls asleep, feeling easily confident in Lucy’s arms.

“Can I have her back?” Olga smiles.

“Of course! I just… Here” she mumbles, passing carefully the baby in her Mama’s arms.

She misses the warmth of this tiny human against her chest almost immediately. Olga smiles at her a last time and Ona’s father taps her shoulder two times before going to find the others.

“I’m coming. I just…”

“It’s okay. We know.”

Lucy nods and turns to face the statue again. Of course, they understand. It’s the same thing every year. They come together, they spend some time here together. Then everyone leaves except Lucy to go to Joan’s house, where Ona’s mother cooks Ona’s favourite meals. All together.

Alexia was here last year too, 8 months and a half pregnant. Lucy was almost sure that she would give birth on the train back home, but it wasn’t the case.

Lucy always needs alone time here and the others understand perfectly. They never know her when she was younger, those days in the arena changed her a lot. She’s not really smiling anymore, unless she is with Laia. She’s not really talkative either. She’s just here, seeming lost and sometimes so broken inside that the Batlle hate how they are helpless facing the pain of the woman who loved their daughter so much.

“I’m still waiting for you to come and get me” Lucy mumbles to the statue. “It’s been seven years, Ona.”

She’s now sitting on the ground, her knees pressed against her chest and her arms around them.

She doesn’t know where they would've been if Ona was still alive, but to be honest Lucy never asked herself this kind of question. It hurts too much. She doesn’t have any plan, any project now. She just waits.

The amount of money she has every year for being the winner of her Games is enough for her to live. She pays for her apartment; she works with her parents-in-law and uses the rest to buy presents for Laia or the others. The Batlle probably have the most well decorated houses around.

She knows Jana’s family too and she’s kind of friends with Jana’s sister. It’s a strange friendship to be honest, but Bruna is a nice girl. And just like her, she lost someone she loved deeply because of the Games. It makes it easier for them to understand each other.

“If you need me, you just have to look at the sky. I’ll always be here”

It was strange that it was Ona who needed to comfort Lucy when she was the one dying. But with this sentence she keeps looking at the sky. She sees Ona in every star, every planet, every rainbow, every sunset or every dawn.

“You are the best thing that ever happens to me”

Ona was the best thing in Lucy’s life too, so how is she supposed to feel like breathing correctly when Ona isn’t here anymore. It just doesn’t make any sense for Lucy. She was her everything. Now she just has nothing left.

If the Batlle hadn’t taken her in as one of their own, Lucy is certain that she would have given up a long time ago.

Watching Ona’s eyes slowly fade while she kept saying how much she loves her is still something very vivid in Lucy’s mind. She’s glad to have been able to say all those things to Ona, but she would rather be able to tell them again.

Soon, she hopes.

Because there is no world where she could forget Ona, even if she wanted to.

The Happy Ending

[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...

[starsenha]

[27] ABOUT THE BOY - the plan

synopsis: You were the queen of Decelis University. Everybody worshipped the ground you walked on. You were used to having what you wanted when you wanted it. Until the day when park sunghoon arrived, and things changed. wc: 5k tw: use of nicknames, mention of toxic relationships and hurt, kissing, making out, sunghoon is so sweet and so fluffy

a/n: im so sad it's the end already 😭😭 abt the boy is my baby im so sad it's over. anyways, i really hope you like the ending and that it answers any question u might have (if it doesn't im really sorry and don't hesitate to dm me or ask in my inbox!!) thank you for all the support this had, I never thought it would be so successful but im so so grateful 🤍🤍

Sunghoon met Jay outside of Yizhuo’s house. It was one of the biggest mansions he’d seen, outside of yours, of course. Jay was waiting for him, his hands jamming in his pockets and he gave his friend a big grin as soon as he got out of his car. Bur something felt…off. 

‘’Okay, you seem really…happy. That’s suspicious,’’ Sunghoon said, raising an eyebrow. 

Jay’s grin faltered for a second. ‘’Suspicious? Me? I’m just pumped for a chill night with my favorite bro.” He threw an arm around Sunghoon’s shoulders and guided him toward the entrance. “Come on, man. Don’t overthink it.”

As they entered, Yizhuo greeted them with her signature smile. “Welcome, guys!” she sang, waving them in with a flourish. Her house, with its high ceilings, gleaming floors, and a ridiculous number of chandeliers, was practically a palace.

Sunghoon glanced around. “Where’s everyone else? I thought this was supposed to be a party or something?”

Yizhuo shrugged, looking entirely too nonchalant. “Oh, they’re just… on their way. But don’t worry about them,” she said, giving Heeseung a quick, sly glance.

Sunghoon frowned but decided to roll with it. Yizhuo could be a bit eccentric sometimes, so he wasn’t going to read too much into it.

“Actually,” Yizhuo continued, “while we’re waiting, I’ve got the perfect room for you to, uh, relax in.” She motioned toward the guest room down the hall. “It’s super cozy.”

“Um… okay?” Sunghoon followed her lead, though he couldn’t help but feel like something was slightly off. Yizhuo opened the door to the guest room, a beautifully decorated space with large windows, plush seating, and soft lighting.

“Here you go!” she said cheerfully, giving him a little push inside. “Why don’t you settle in and get comfortable?”

Before he could say anything, the door clicked shut behind him. Sunghoon turned, hearing the unmistakable sound of a lock.

“Park Jongseong!” he called, pressing his hand against the door. “Did you just lock me in here?”

Jay’s muffled voice came through the door, trying and failing to sound casual. “Oh, uh… must’ve been a… draft! Or something. Don’t worry about it, bro. Just chill.”

Sunghoon’s eyes narrowed. “Seriously?”

On the other side of the door, Jay turned to Yizhuo, unable to contain his satisfaction. “He’s in,” he whispered with a grin, giving her a high-five. “Now we just wait for yn. She’s never on time, is she?”

Yizhuo smirked, leaning against the wall next to him. “Fashionably late, as always. But hey, once she gets here… things are about to get interesting.”

Back inside the guest room, Sunghoon sighed, finally letting himself sink into the absurdly plush armchair.

“Guess I’ll ‘chill,’’’he muttered, rolling his eyes.

About twenty minutes later, you arrived at Yizhuo’s house as usual, not even bothering to knock. After all, it was like your own home at this point. You barely had time to shake off the cool evening air when Yizhuo and Jay appeared around the corner, grinning in a way that could only described as suspiciously eager. 

“Finally, you’re here!” Yizhuo said, practically bouncing on her heels.

“You’re late as usual,” Heeseung added, smirking.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them. “Okay, you guys are being way too cheerful. What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing,” Yizhuo said airily, waving her hand. “But hey, since you’re here, could you check something for me in the guest room? There’s… um, an issue with the—uh, the light fixture.”

You narrowed your eyes, suspicious but deciding to humor your friend. “The light fixture? Really?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yizhuo nodded, clearly trying to hold back a grin. “You know, just… making sure everything’s perfect for tonight.”

“Right,” You said slowly, casting Jay a dubious look. But Yizhuo was your best friend, so with an exaggerated eye-roll, you headed down the hall toward the guest room. “If this is some lame prank…”

“Oh, would I do that to you?” Yizhuo replied innocently, exchanging a quick glance with Jay.

You pushed open the door to the guest room, stepping inside cautiously. But as soon as you were fully inside, you heard footsteps behind you. You whirled around just as Yizhuo and Heeseung reached the doorway.

“Surprise!” Yizhuo said with a wink, and before you could react, they gave you a gentle push, closing the door swiftly behind you with a loud click.

You pressed her forehead against the door, muttering a string of curses. Then you turned around, your irritation quickly transforming into shock as you realized you weren’t alone. Sunghoon was sitting in an armchair near the window, looking just as surprised as you were.

“Sunghoon?” you said, narrowing your eyes.

‘’Great,’’ he sighed. 

Your expression turned icy, and you crossed your arms, leaning back against the wall, as far from Sunghoon as you could manage in the small guest room. Sunghoon, still processing the abrupt situation, glanced at you with a mixture of frustration and hope, though he could already tell from your stance that this wasn’t going to be easy.

“Look,” he began, trying to sound calm, “I know you’re not thrilled to be here, but can we please just talk?”

“Don’t come any closer,” you cut him off, your voice sharp as you shifted slightly away from him, making it clear you wanted nothing to do with proximity right now.

Sunghoon stopped mid-step, sighing deeply. “Are you really going to stand there and act like nothing bothers you? That’s not you.”

“Actually,” you replied coolly, “this is perfectly fine. Just don’t make it difficult, alright?”

Sunghoon clenched his jaw, frustration seeping into his tone. “Right. Of course, nothing’s ever a big deal to you.”

You shrugged, your gaze drifting to the wall, as though the room’s decor was far more interesting. After a pause, you added with forced nonchalance, “I just hope you’re happy with Chaeyoung. She’s the one you wanted, right?”

He blinked, caught completely off guard. “Wait… what?”

You let out a small, bitter laugh, still not looking at him. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I know you two are back together. It’s not like it matters,” you continued, your voice carrying an edge. “You don’t owe me anything. We were never official or exclusive, remember?”

Sunghoon let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Is that what you think? That I’m back with Chaeyoung?”

“I saw the picture, Sunghoon,” you replied, your voice cold. “Don’t make me look like an idiot.”

Realization dawned on Sunghoon, and he couldn’t help but chuckle softly, finally understanding the root of your attitude. Was that why you shut him off completely? “That’s why you’ve been avoiding me? Because you thought I was back with Chaeyoung?”

Your jaw tightened, a flicker of annoyance in your eyes. “Don’t laugh, Sunghoon. It’s not funny.”

“It kind of is, actually,” he replied, unable to stop the small grin forming on his face. “Yn, I’m not back with her. I was meeting up with her to tell her that I’ve moved on. That I don’t want her back.”

The icy wall around you seemed to crack just a little, though you tried to keep your face indifferent. “Moved on?” she echoed, almost reluctantly.

“Yes,” he said, his voice softer now as he stepped just a little closer, though still keeping his distance out of respect. “Moved on. I thought you knew.”

“Well, how would I know that, Sunghoon?” you shot back, a hint of anger mixing with something much more vulnerable. “You didn’t exactly… clarify anything.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I wanted to, but you’ve been avoiding me, Yn. Cold texts, ignoring me on campus, and then when I finally get a chance, you’re always ‘busy.’”

You looked away, biting your lip, unwilling to admit how much it had all hurt. “I was just… trying to keep things simple. We weren’t anything serious.”

“Don’t do that,” he said, his voice firm but pleading. “Don’t push me away just because things got complicated. You can’t keep acting like none of this matters to you.”

“And why not?” you challenged, finally meeting his gaze, though your voice wavered slightly. “Maybe it’s easier that way.”

“Because it’s not the truth,” he replied, stepping closer again, his voice softening. “Yn, I know you better than you think. This isn’t you.”

You shook your head, frustration and vulnerability mingling on your face. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do, Sunghoon.”

“Then tell me,” he begged, his voice barely a whisper. “Tell me what you’re feeling. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. Just… talk to me.”

You were silent for a long moment, struggling to keep your walls intact, but under his gaze, you felt them start to crumble. Finally, you let out a shaky breath, unable to meet his eyes.

“I… I’m scared, Sunghoon,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “I don’t want to go through that again.”

He felt a pang of confusion mixed with concern when the words left your mouth. He knew you had a past relationship, but you’d never really opened up about it, and the raw fear in your voice now was unlike anything he’d seen from you before.

“What do you mean, ‘again’?” he asked softly, watching your face for any hint of vulnerability. “Yn, what happened to you?”

Your expression immediately shifted, your guard snapping back into place. You crossed her arms, your posture growing defensive. “It doesn’t matter,” you replied, your tone colder. “Can we just drop it?”

Sunghoon took a deep breath, frustration simmering but tempered by his care for you. “Yn, I don’t want to push you, but you keep shutting me out. How am I supposed to understand if you don’t let me in?”

You turned your back on him, staring at the door as if you could will it to open. “Sunghoon, just leave it alone. It’s not important.”

“Not important?” he echoed, his voice a mix of disbelief and desperation. He moved closer, his hand reaching out but hesitating just inches from your shoulder. “You’re scared because of something that happened to you, and you’re acting like it’s nothing. I need you to trust me. I want to help.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the pressure build up inside you. Part of you wanted to push him away, to keep the past locked up where it belonged. But another part of you—the part that had started to believe in him, the part that actually loved him—felt your resolve crumbling.

“Please, Yn,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just… let me in. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

Your shoulders slumped, and you turned your face slightly away, swallowing back the words that clawed at your throat. “It’s not… it’s not something I want to talk about,” you said, your voice strained. “Just drop it, okay?”

But before you could fully turn away again, Sunghoon gently took hold of your shoulders, guiding you back to face him. His gaze was intense, a mixture of desperation and affection, and you felt your heart racing under his stare.

“Yn, please don’t shut me out,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. And then, without another word, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss so intense it left you breathless. It was desperate, filled with all the words he hadn’t said, all the emotions he hadn’t yet expressed.

You hesitated, your hands hovering in the air, caught between pushing him away and pulling him closer. But as his lips moved against yours, the warmth and need in his kiss started to melt the icy walls you had put up. Slowly, almost reluctantly, you let yourself lean into him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, clutching him like he was your lifeline.

Sunghoon’s hand slid up to cup your face, his thumb gently brushing your cheek as the kiss deepened. And as much as you wanted to keep your guard up, you found herself yielding, your resolve slipping away with every second.

When you finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. “Yn,” he whispered, his voice filled with so much tenderness it made your chest ache. “Please. I just want to be there for you.”

You looked up at him, your gaze softened, vulnerable in a way you rarely allowed yourself to be. And in that moment, you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time—a glimmer of trust, a sliver of hope.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. But even as you said it, your hands remained on his shoulders, holding him close.

“Then let me help you,” he whispered back, his fingers gently tracing your jaw. “One step at a time. Just… don’t shut me out again.”

He gently guided you over to the small couch nestled in the corner of the guest room. He sat down beside you, keeping one of your hands in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles over your skin. His gaze was filled with a rare tenderness, a quiet understanding that made you feel both exposed and safe at the same time.

“Talk to me,” he said softly, his voice steady and patient. “Whatever happened… I want to know. Let me in.”

You looked down, your fingers gripping his hand as you struggled with the words. You had buried this pain so deeply that the idea of unearthing it felt almost impossible. But something about the warmth in his touch, the way he looked at her like he genuinely wanted to understand, made you feel that you could trust him.

“It was… it was a long time ago,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was in high school, young and… naive, I guess.”

Sunghoon nodded, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Go on. I’m listening.”

“His name was Sunwoo,” you continued, your tone thick with old pain. “He was older than me by a couple of years. Our families knew each other, and my dad… he wanted us to end up together. He thought we’d be this perfect match, two ‘well-matched’ families. My dad practically saw it as a done deal.”

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, letting you continue at your own pace.

“We started dating when I was in high school,” you continued, her gaze fixed somewhere distant. “I thought he was everything I wanted. He was my first love, and… I was so young. So stupidly, blindly in love.”

You took a shaky breath, and he squeezed your hand again, his thumb still moving in gentle circles.

“But Sunwoo… he was… well, he was a mess. A total fuckboy, honestly,” you said, your voice tinged with bitterness. “He cheated on me. So many times. And every time I found out, I forgave him. I made excuses for him, telling myself he’d change, that he cared about me.”

Sunghoon clenched his free hand into a fist, anger flashing across his face, but he kept his grip on you steady, silent encouragement in his eyes.

“It was humiliating,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “Everyone knew, and I still took him back every time. I convinced myself that he loved me. And maybe he did, in his own twisted way. But I let him hurt me over and over because I didn’t know any better. I thought that was… just how love was.”

You took a deep, trembling breath. “Then he graduated. And I thought… I thought we’d finally be okay. That maybe we’d make it work. But instead… he broke up with me. Publicly. In front of everyone. He called it off like it was nothing, made some joke about how he’d ‘outgrown’ high school relationships.”

Sunghoon’s eyes flashed with anger, his hand tightening around yours. “He humiliated you? In front of everyone?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I couldn’t believe it. I felt like such a fool. I’d been so blind. After he left, I… I fell apart, Sunghoon. I stopped eating, stopped sleeping. I lost so much weight. I couldn’t focus on anything, and my grades started slipping. My dad didn’t get it; he just thought I needed to get over it and move on. But it felt like everything I believed in had shattered.”

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I’m so sorry, princess. He didn’t deserve you. Not then, not ever.”

You met his gaze, surprised to find your own eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I thought I was over it, you know? But sometimes, the hurt… it’s still there. It’s why I don’t let anyone get too close. I swore I’d never feel that way again.”

Sunghoon’s face softened, and he held your gaze, his own eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. “You didn’t deserve that. No one should ever make you feel that way. And I promise you… I would never do that to you, Yn. I’m here, okay? I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and he wiped it away gently with his thumb. For the first time, you felt the weight of your past beginning to lift, replaced by a sense of comfort you hadn’t felt in years.

The room felt heavy with everything you’d just shared, but in the middle of it all, he could feel one thing so clearly, and he knew he couldn’t hold back anymore. He took a deep breath, squeezing your hand gently as he whispered, “YN… I love you.”

Your eyes widened, shock crossing your face as his words sank in. You opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could hardly believe you had heard him right.

“What… what did you just say?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sunghoon smiled, that gentle, steady smile that always seemed to make everything better. “I love you, princess,” he repeated, his voice filled with a warmth and sincerity you had never experienced before.

Your heart skipped a beat, the weight of those words settling over you like a gentle blanket. No one had ever told you that before—not like this. The only other person who’d ever made you feel loved and cared for was your brother, Mingyu. But this was different; this was deeper, intimate in a way..

A soft, almost disbelieving smile spread across your lips as you gazed up at him, your fingers lightly tracing his jawline. “You… you love me?”

He nodded, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I do. I love you.”

A rush of emotion overwhelmed you, and you leaned in, capturing his lips in a heavy kiss. It was a slow, gentle kiss, but one that grew warmer and deeper with each passing second. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours, tender yet insistent.

As the kiss deepened, Sunghoon shifted slightly, guiding you so you were nestled against him. His fingers tangled in your hair, and he let out a soft sigh against your lips, pressing you closer, his other hand steady on your waist. It was as if he was filling every broken pieces of her. 

“Princess,” he murmured between kisses, his voice rough with emotion as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Your heart swelled, and you managed a soft, breathless laugh. “You’re so… cheesy.”

“Only for you,” he whispered, a teasing smile on his lips, his thumb brushing against your lower lip as he leaned back in.

You kissed again, slower this time, savoring every second, every touch. You felt herself relax completely, letting go of your fears and doubts as you leaned into him, losing yourself in the feeling of his arms around you.

His hands slipped to your waist, drawing you closer still, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses that sent shivers down your spine. You let your fingers explore his shoulders, his back, every inch of him grounding you in the moment, before he came back to attack your lips. 

As you kiss deepened, your fingers curled into the fabric of Sunghoon’s shirt, and without even thinking, you murmured, “Hoonie…”

Sunghoon froze for a moment, pulling back just enough to look at you, his lips breaking into a soft, surprised smile. He hadn’t heard that nickname from you in so long, and the sound of it from your lips stirred something deep within him.

“What did you just call me?” he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and delight.

Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn’t help but smile back at him, feeling warmth spread through your chest. “Hoonie,” you repeated, letting the name roll off your tongue with a playfulness you’d kept guarded until now.

His grin grew wider, and he leaned back in, pressing a quick, tender kiss to your lips before pulling away just a little again, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Say it again,” he murmured, his voice soft and almost pleading.

“Hoonie,” you whispered, smiling as you said it, your tone teasing as you leaned in to kiss him again, letting the name linger between them.

Sunghoon chuckled against your lips, his arms wrapping tighter around you. “You have no idea how much I missed that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound muffled as they kissed again, slower. “Hoonie,” you murmured again, smiling into the kiss, your fingers tracing patterns along his jawline. “Hoonie… Hoonie…”

He let out a soft laugh, his forehead pressing against yours as he held you close. “You’re just teasing me now.”

“Maybe,” you replied with a smirk, brushing your lips against his once more. “But you asked for it.”

“Well, I’m not complaining,” he whispered, his voice a mixture of tenderness and joy as he kissed you again, his lips finding yours over and over. Each time yous said his name, each time you whispered that soft “Hoonie,” he felt his heart swell a little more.

After what felt like hours wrapped up in each other, you and Sunghoon finally exchanged a glance, a quiet understanding passing between you. “Maybe… we should head out?” you murmured, your fingers still laced through his.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon replied, though he didn’t look entirely ready to let go of you just yet. “But knowing Jay and Yizhuo, they might actually keep us here forever if we don’t show up soon.”

You both laughed softly as you walked over to the door, Sunghoon reaching out to turn the handle. To your surprise, it turned easily, swinging open without resistance.

“Wait… was this door unlocked the whole time?” you asked, your brows knitting in confusion.

Sunghoon looked equally perplexed, glancing back into the room as if expecting to find some hidden prank. “Are you kidding me?” He shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle.

Together, still holding hands, you made your way down the hallway and your the main living room. But as you turned the corner, you stopped dead in your tracks, both of their eyebrows shooting up in surprise. There, against one of the walls, were Yizhuo and Jay, locked in a steamy make-out session that was definitely not meant for public viewing.

You and Sunghoon exchanged a smirk, unable to hold back their amusement. You cleared your throat loudly, and Yizhuo immediately pulled back, her face flushing with embarrassment. Jay, however, looked entirely unbothered, his arm still casually wrapped around Yizhuo’s waist as he shot them both a mischievous grin.

“Well, well, well,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “What do we have here?”

Yizhuo’s cheeks were flaming red, but she managed a quick smile. “Okay, okay, you caught us. But I’d say you two should’ve been more than busy yourselves.”

Sunghoon squeezed your hand, smiling at you before turning back to Yizhuo and Jay. “I’d say we’re pretty good,” he replied, grinning.

Yizhuo’s eyes lit up, and she looked back at you, her voice softening. “Are you guys okay?”

You glanced up at Sunghoon, your face breaking into a warm smile as you nodded. “Yeah,” you said softly. “We’re okay.” You squeezed his hand as you spoke, your own smile mirroring his.

Yizhuo’s face broke into a wide grin, her embarrassment forgotten. “I’m so glad to hear that! I was really starting to worry about you two.”

You smirked, raising an eyebrow as you nodded toward Jay. “So… what about you two, huh?”

Jay flashed a smug grin, tightening his hold on Yizhuo. “Oh, we’ve been together for a few weeks now. Officially, anyway,” he said, clearly unfazed by the sudden attention. “Guess we didn’t make it as obvious as we thought.”

Sunghoon laughed, genuinely happy for them. “Yeah, I had no idea! Congrats, you two.”

You nodded, your eyes twinkling as you looked between them. “Really, I’m so happy for you both. It suits you,” you said, glancing pointedly at Yizhuo, who was still blushing furiously.

Yizhuo grinned, tilting her head as she looked pointedly back at you and Sunghoon. “Well, it suits you too, Yn. You guys look good together.”

Sunghoon smirked at that, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you close in a playful back hug. He leaned his chin on your shoulder, his grin both smug and affectionate. “Hear that, princess? We look good together,” he murmured, giving you a little squeeze.

You rolled your eyes, though you were clearly fighting a smile. “Oh, please, don’t let this go to your head, Hoonie,” you teased, your voice warm but your expression feigned with indifference.

He chuckled, pulling you even closer. “Too late,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your cheek. “I’m already the luckiest guy in the world.”

You couldn’t hide your smile any longer, and Yizhuo squealed, practically bouncing on the spot. “This is the cutest thing ever! Look at you two, all ‘we’re not official’ to completely inseparable!”

Jay smirked, crossing his arms as he looked at Sunghoon. “So much for your ‘no feelings’ rule, huh, Hoon?”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes but didn’t let go of you and you knew he would now never let go. “Yeah, yeah. Guess I’m a little too whipped to care,” he said, not even attempting to hide his grin.

You tilted your head back to look up at him, your smirk teasing. “A little too whipped? That’s the understatement of the century, Hoonie.”

He pretended to pout, leaning down to brush a quick kiss to your cheek. “You like it, though.”

“Maybe,” you murmured, your smile softening as you looked up at him.

Yizhuo clapped her hands, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Look at my best friend being all lovey-dovey. Who would’ve thought?”

“Certainly not me,” you laughed, still nestled comfortably in Sunghoon’s arms, feeling warmth spread through you as you exchanged a knowing smile with him.

Jay chuckled, reaching for Yizhuo’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Guess we’re all a little whipped tonight.”

And for the first time, none of them felt like they needed to hide it. As Jay and Yizhuo started to make their way to the living room, chatting and laughing together, you were about to follow them, but you felt Sunghoon’s hand slip into yours, stopping you in your tracks. Before you could turn around fully, he gently pulled you back against him, wrapping his arms around your waist, and leaned down to brush his lips against your ear.

“Wait a second,” he whispered, his voice soft and full of warmth. “Can’t let you go just yet.”

A warm shiver ran down your spine at the sound of his voice so close, and you felt herself relax into him, your hand instinctively reaching up to rest on his arm. “We’re going to lose them if we stay here,” you murmured, though there was no urgency in your voice.

Sunghoon chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “Let them go. I just want you for a minute.”

You smiled, tilting your head to give him a little more space, your eyes closing as you savored the feeling of his closeness. “Only a minute?” she teased, her voice light.

“Well, I could ask for more,” he whispered, his lips now at your cheek as he trailed soft kisses along your skin, making your heart race.

“You’re being awfully sweet,” you said, turning around to face him, your hands finding their way to his chest. “Not that I mind.”

He grinned, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze soft. “You deserve a little sweetness, princess,” he said, his voice barely above a murmur. “After everything… I just want to make sure you know how much you mean to me.”

Your cheeks flushed, your usual confidence softened by the sincerity in his eyes. You could feel herself melting, a smile spreading across your face as you looked up at him. “Sunghoon…”

Before you could say anything else, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss, his hands gently holding you close. The world around them seemed to fade, and in that moment, it was just the two of them, their kiss deepening as if they were the only ones who mattered.

After a long moment, you pulled back, laughing softly as you glanced toward the living room. “Okay, we really need to go before they come looking for us.”

Sunghoon sighed dramatically, his hands still resting on you waist. “Fine,” he whispered, stealing one more quick kiss. “But don’t think you’re getting away that easily later.”

You rolled her eyes, grinning as you took his hand and started to lead him toward the living room. “Come on, Hoonie. Let’s not keep everyone waiting.”

Hand in hand, you walked to join their friends, the warmth of his touch still lingering as you settled into the cozy happiness of being together.

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TAGLIST: @arimiukpop @eleanorheartschishiya @i03jae @beomsitez @hoonatic @rep-hoon @invuzzn @naoyiie @sunhyeswife @sophi-eee @heeseungismymanz @istglevi-gotmesimping @jiaant11 @lakoya @noname-123s-things-blog @roslayy @nyfwyeonjun @aehrizone @serenadehera @starry-eyed-bimbo

[user1smvtysturniolo]

A Christmas with you | Chris Sturniolo

Pairing: shy!Chris x soft!dom!reader

Summary: it's few days before Christmas, and you're cuddling up with your boyfriend Chris after convincing him to watch a rom.com with you. Later on, you find yourselves in more tension in between the air, which brings you guys to...

Trigger Warning: established relationship, p in v, pet names, cuddling, first time sex, swearing, handjob, riding, unprotected sex, ¿lowkey a mommy kink?

Let me know if you wanna be tagged. Xoxo

You were besides Chris, your head resting on his shoulder while you drank your hot cocoa and he drank his while watching a movie. You couldn't help but notice how his heart race was fastening under your head and how he started adjusting himself. Half an hour past by, you both finished your drinks. And you were done playing this game. Even though you guys were in a relationship, it just had started a little ago so you guys never went too further. You both were too nervous and were trying to hide your feelings, rather said his hardening bulge and your hard nipples and how y'all acted around eachother in a situation this intimate, cuddling so together.

"Chris?" Your voice needy, slowly looking up at him with puppy eyes, you also grabbed the remote and stopped the film. "Hmm sweetheart?" He said in a sweet voice as he looked down at you, trying to hide how the fire inside him was igniting at your pleady eyes and needy voice. You didn't say anything else, rather you stood up a little bit and put your knees on the sides of his hips, not sitting on his lap but being right in front of him like that. His hard cock visible for you. One of your hand grabbed his cheek and the other one played with his hair. You slowly got closer and Chris gulped at every movement you made, the tension in the air visible.

"God I need you so fucking bad" you murmured to yourself as you fully sat down and started kissing him. Chris lets out a surprised yet delighted hum against your lips as you settle over him, his hand coming to rest on your waist. The feeling of you so close, all that heat between you, pushes him closer to the edge of reason "Baby...are you sure? I...I don't wanna mess things up..." he manages between kisses, fingers digging into your side playfully as he gives a small buck of his hips, seeking more contact despite his hesitance. "Shhh" you silenced him, your hands moving down to his shirt and lifting it off. As I start kissing and nibbling on his collarbone and neck I say between kisses "if you're not sure, I'm gonna make you be."

With that, I get down and start trailing kisses, nibbles and hickeys until I get just on top of his pants. I look up at him and bite my lip as I put my hand on top of his member and he shut his eyes and groaned in response. I hummed in response as I took down his pants and boxers. His eyes opened as he looked down at me, I could see his cheeks red from blushing and probably shyness, "mhm, you're so big" I murmured making him feel more comfortable, and he groaned in response. Then I first started caressing his thighs and kissing his inner thighs. He was so desperate for more he started gripping my hair tight and whimpered begging for more. "You're doing well, wait baby" I finally stroke him, starting from the tip spreading his pre-cum around his dick. He moaned, it took me by surprise so I playfully tightened my fist around him, jerking him off faster and rougher. "Fffuck, I'm close. I can't" he moaned out. "Wait, I'm not done" I smiled as I removed my hand from his cock earning a loud whimper in disapproval

I started undressing myself, removing my pajama pants and shirt. Leaving me only with Christmas panties lingerie, his eyes not leaving mine he bite his lip hard trying to hold in a moan by just looking at my body "God, you're so hot. I might cum only by looking at you". I blushed at his words looking away, putting a strand of my hair behind my ear. Then I got closer, inches away from his face. My hand grabbed the back of his hair. "I wanted to take a further step today, so I came prepared with this lingerie, Chris. What do you think?" I licked my lips as I waited for his response. "I think that pretty body should fuck me, mommy" I gasped at his words and he grabbed my head and started kissing me rough and passionate.

I finally removed my panties and positioned myself on top of his cock, playfully putting my soaking folds on the tip of his dick, still not going all in. "God, i-if you..." he catched his breath "if you keep, d-doing this I-" before he finished his sentence I got down putting his dick all in me. We both moaned and as I adjusted myself at his length I started riding him, back and forth. His head falls back against the cushions as you finally take him deep, your slick warmth enveloping every inch of him. His hands come to rest on your thighs, fingers digging in again in sensation too intense to keep still

"You feel so good...so perfect..." he manages through clenched teeth. Both of his hands gripped my hips and I grabbed his shoudler. Then, his own hips started to move in time with yours, meeting each movement. I cry out as I increase my pace, setting an unrelenting rhythm, bouncing on his cock, the lewd sounds of sex filling the room nowavatar. Chris is now also breathless, he's a moaning mess, at my mercy. "Fffuck I'm so close. Keep going" he groans out. I felt his next orgasm building already, by his cock twitching in me. And mine was also coming, my walls started clenching tightly around his cock. "Cum with me, Chris" I moaned out as we both let go. Thick cum filling me up and my own cum coating his cock. I collapsed in his chest, trying to come back from my orgasm

Few seconds went by, and Chris spoke up "You're amazing, God" I slowly looked up at him and smiled. "I love being able to have a Christmas themed sex with you" he winked after his sentence. I giggled and I pulled out and put on my lingerie again, and put his own boxers on. I sat on his lap "You know what? I have a game. Let's both wear our underwear while finishing the movie and however tries to go further loses". He grinned and turned me around, putting himself on top of me. "I think I already lost" he bit his lip as he started kissing my neck...

[eenslaved]

Ray and Joshua's Girl

BDSM erotica. Fictional characters over 18. Strictly fictional fantasy.

When she hears footsteps on the stairs, she tenses, uncertain of who is approaching. The son, back for more, or the father this time?

They both take turns using her, in this unassuming house set far back at the end of a long driveway, distanced from any neighbors.

The lights are flipped on and she sees Joshua's face beaming at her.

"Well, hello there," Joshua coos at her. "Looks like Da's already been at you today."

She blushes. Her feet are tied above her head, her thighs splayed wide apart. Her pussy and ass are tilted up at him, and Joshua can see for himself the sticky leavings of his dad's cum coating her sex.

Joshua comes to stand over her. His eyes are greedy and avid as they roam her naked, bound body. She sucks in a breath as his hands mold over her breasts, freely feeling her up because she can't stop him.

She has to try again. "Please let me go, Joshua. It's...you've had your fun, OK? I-I won't tell anyone, I swear."

Joshua shakes his head at her. "You are home," he insists. "This is your home now. Da and I talked it over; we're keeping you. You're our girl now. You belong to us and we'll take such good care of you."

Her heart sank. "No, please. You-you can't do this. This is so...you could get in so much trouble when someone finds out..."

"No one's going to find out," Joshua soothed. "You're safe here. You need us. That motel wasn't a safe place and you won't last the winter living on the streets. Here, you've got a bed, food, water, a roof over your head. All we want is your obedience." 

Her eyes well with tears as he hurts her nipples, pinching them cruelly. 

Joshua unties her wrists first, putting the manacles on her, and then releases her legs. He leads her into the bathroom where her arms are pulled up over her head.

He takes his time washing her body, soaping up every part of her, slapping at her thighs to get her to widen her stance. He strokes her until she's slippery and gasping, legs trembling, and then hoses her off. The jet of water aimed at her clit makes her dance in a performance he clearly enjoys.

After she's clean and dry, Joshua dresses her in a pink babydoll nightgown. She's so grateful to be clean and released from her uncomfortable bondage that when he pushes his sweats down and he slaps her face lightly with his cock, she just kneels there with her mouth open.

Joshua's father, Ray, arrives just as she's swallowing thick jets of cum.

"Good, you washed her," Ray says, pleased. He takes a seat in the broken-in leather armchair and watches as she cleans Joshua's cock with her tongue. "Come here, girl. Sit on your Daddy's lap now."

Her face burns and her insides churn with humiliation as she does as he asks, perching gingerly on his hard thigh. Ray settles her more firmly into the position he prefers, which is where her feet don't touch the ground and she has to cling to him for balance. 

Ray's hands immediately disappear under the short hem of the babydoll gown, blunt fingers seeking out her wet heat. He isn't disappointed by what he finds there. She squirms as his fingers tease more wetness out of her.

"Put your arms around me," Ray encourages. 

He turns his face into her cleavage, nuzzling her boobs. She gulps and tries not to come. All she can do is obey. She doesn't dare do different. Ray doesn't hesitate to punish her for any signs of disobedience or the merest hint of rebellion. He is consistent about his methods of discipline: first corporal punishment, then a stint of solitary in the hated deprivation hood.

His methods are effective.

As much as she's been able to pick up, Ray is divorced and has been for years. Joshua isn't in contact with his mom at all. It's just the two of them living here, operating the family-owned garage. The two men are self-sufficient. They haven't expected her to cook or clean or anything like that. That's not what they need her for.

"I'm plannin' on having anal sex with her later," Joshua says. 

"Rub some icy hot on her clit before you do that," Ray says, enjoying the shudder that runs through her frame. "Makes it even better."

"Is that why she was carrying on so much last night?"

"Yep. It's good to let her work her lungs out. And now she knows there ain't anyone around to hear her and come banging on our door. Isn't that right, sweetie?"

"Yes, Daddy," she whispers. Her tears are hot. Her pussy is pulsing and clenching on his fingers, an appalling response. This is so awful and there's no escape that she can see.