#and-stanley-pushed-a-button

[squuote]

something that feels particularly notable is how much the game itself pushes the player to continue, whether or not that aligns with the narrator’s desires. That there is no real consequence by not playing an ending except for denying yourself of seeing the outcome of that choice. Which in itself is the very nature of continuing to push the wheel. Choices lead to actions that lead to player interaction. And even in scenarios like the zending, where the narrator desperately does not want us to move forward, the game provides a way for us to do so anyway. The way that the game will always provide a choice no matter the moral ramifications. But whether or not you choose to take that option will always be the choice you bear.

[tsp-invisible-narrator]

“A Box of Buttons” - a “The Stanley Parable” fancomic by Kuttie

Copy and Paste Button route

Page 8

Previous Page - Next Page

BACK TO PROLOGUE

“Glitchy” by @lazy-charlie

[queenburd]

Classic narrator, and some swap stuff.

The Administrator has his employee write out stories for him, or story ideas, that he then types into his computer and makes into reality. But his employee is really lazy so there are. Issues.

Anyway I managed to put off playing with swap for over six months be proud of me

[duckdotcom]

literally can I just lay down in a hole and fall asleep until I return to the earth as mulch

[askemployee427]

st anley i saw the tags on the countdown ending post

cheers, sigma anon

what tags are we talking about ?

I went digging and found this emoji online and I added it because it represents me right now because I have absolutely no idea what countdown ending post tags you’re talking about at all! totally !!

[panleystarable]

Stanley loves pushing buttons. We see this as he pushes the narrator's to piss him off

[itsdefinitely]

yea i'm normal about this game, why?

[pajka-eagle]

Why is he bri'ish tho

[sheurb]

I always figured stanley's job as a "button pusher" was actually symbolic and/or related to the fact that stanley is known for pushing buttons (as in be extremely frustrating) since he receives orders from both the company (what buttons to push) and the narrator (where to go) and the two things overlap a bit

But yeah i dont think that company would last a week and that building would be bulldozed immediately

have you guys ever wondered what the heck is stanley's company for. like. Oh you need to push buttons. for what??? what does that do to society.?? how does that help????? wtf

[employee052]

BOY- I SAY- BOY, YOU GOTTA STOP LETTIN' HIM CONTROL YA DARN LIFE LIKE THIS BOY. YOU GOTTA GO THROUGH YOUR OWN DOORS YA HEAR? ARE YOU GONNA LET THAT STINKIN OLD GEEZER TELL YA HOW TA LIVE YA LIFE BOY? YOU GOTTA PUSH AGAINST HIM BOY, PUSH HIM LIKE DA DARN BUTTONS YOU PUSH ON THAT THERE KEYBOARD BOY! NOW I SAY- BOY I SAY- GO OUT THERE AND DON'T LET ANYONE TELL YOU WHAT TO DO BOY, FIND YOUR OWN ADVENTURE BOY, ITS CALLED THE STANLEY PARABLE FOR A REASON BOY!

[imaredshirt]

Fiddlestan would be so easy. All Stan has to do is complain one morning about how he HATES losing the tv remote cause it's such a waste of time to go looking for it when all he wants to do is watch a show, and by that night, Fiddleford has built the Remote Retreiving Contraption that, with the push of a button, will zap the remote to it. One pulse of electric-magnetic-static-energy-whatever (Stan doesn't bother to understand the mechanics behind it) and the remote flies through the air from whatever couch cusion it's squished under or whatever pile of nerd notes has collapsed over it (either Ford's or Fidds’s, it's always a toss up). No more digging through the couch or looking under random academic journals or tossing aside empty foam takeout plates. Stan can basically summon the remote to him from the comfort of his recliner.

Fidds doesn't even need to finish explaining the benefits or the miiinor, poosibly worrying glitches or apologize when on his first try, Stan almost loses an eye when the remote hurtles through the air at his head - because Stanley was head over heels for him five nerdy sentences ago.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Part 1 here

Tag list: @catr4dora @girlyteengirl18 @pheesfanfics @theilluminatidragonqueen @ryoiii @hehegerms @notsocuriousgeorge @mxr-lvn

You and Stan were enjoying your date so far that Mabel had set you up on, it was a cute little picnic near the waterfall and you were both sat in the perfect spot to over see the entire town. It was perfect and you would have to thank Mabel when you get back before midnight, seeing as she poetically pushed you and Stan out of the shack and told you both to enjoy your date and not to be back before midnight as she shuts the door.

She was a good kid with a big heart and you loved her for that as you fiddled with the bracelet she made you once with small smile.

‘How come we didn’t think of this before? Going on dates I mean.’ You asked as you took a sip from your drink, eyes racking over Stan’s form and admiring how dashing he looked in a burgundy shirt with a couple of buttons undone to show the gold hanging from his neck, accompanied by a matching grey blazer and trousers. With the way he cleans up it was enough to make anyone swoon for him, especially when he wears the cologne you’ve always liked the smell of, the same cologne that he was wearing right now actually as you rested your head against his shoulder.

‘Maybe because we’ve been too busy lying to everyone for thirty years, while also trying to get my brother back that we forget the simpler ways to convince people we’re together.’ Stan replied as he then playfully nudges your side. ‘And here I thought you were the smarter one of us both, toots.’

You swatted his hand away as you smiled sheepishly. ‘I’m smarter in other fields than the romantic one, it’s always alluded me to be fair as I’ve never been on a date before or had anyone express interest.’ You admitted, feeling a little exposed under Stan’s gaze.

‘You’ve never been on a date?’ He asked.

‘Nope.’ You tell him. ‘I was too nerdy and geeky for the most people but too smart and intimidating for others.’

‘Not even my brother?’ Stan then asks with a slight strain in his voice and your brows furrowed.

‘No? Our relationship was strictly platonic and professional. He is a smart individual but we had little to no emotional attachments to one another outside of considering each other a friend.’ You said. ‘Though that maybe due to how isolated we were from everyone else with our research but that comes with the territory of trying to make a break through within the field of paranormal discovery.’ You then added out of a need to provide a logical explanation as to why you and Ford were close.

‘Why you ask?’ You then found yourself asking him this time and Stan scratched the back of his neck as a blush crept across his face.

‘I dunno, just find it odd how someone like you hasn’t been on a date. You’re pretty, smart, funny, albeit a little awkward but that’s what made you cute and endearing, also how you would get this look in your eye when your talking about something you’re passionate about that you have to start moving other parts of yourself because your excitement for it is that great.’ He shrugs as he then looks back at you with the softest look in his eyes as he chuckles. ‘I guess I get bragging rights about taking the most beautiful/handsome smart ass on the perfect date.’

In your eyes Stan looked beautiful in that moment as the butterflies made themselves knowing within your stomach. He knew you inside and out and loved every bit he saw and you couldn’t help but reciprocate the feeling as you found yourself laughing and smiling a lot more in his presence. Stan made you feel as though you could drop being smart for a second and allow yourself to breathe and take in life while you can, he was a smart man who had a way with words when it came to conning people, but here he looked almost as if he were an awkward teenager on his first date.

‘Don’t sell yourself so short Stanley.’ You tell him as you placed your hand atop of his own, squeezing it before intertwining your fingers as you took the moment to recognise that being with Stan just felt right, it felt as though you were meant to be by his side and found yourself waiting impatiently for him to hold you at night and smother you in affection during the day. ‘A date with you is a date I’ll take over any other I would’ve hypothetically had in an alternate reality.’ You admitted, feeling a blush creep across your face as you felt yourself about to admire to something you’ve always had an inkling about, but just didn’t believe it until recently.

‘And why’s that?’ Stan asked, mentally having of the edge of his seat as he hoped you were about to say what he thought you were about to say, for he too had made a similar discovery, which was only amplified and proven right whenever he looked at you in hopes of seeing you smile at something he did or confined yourself in him.

Even now as he looked at you he couldn’t help but smack his younger self for not realising what he felt sooner, he was jealous that his brother got to spend a lot of time with you, but he wouldn’t change anything that had lead you both to where you were now as you have done nothing but brought a sense of happiness to Stan’s life that he had been devoid of since he was kicked out by his father.

You looked at him like he was something and he looked at you like you were everything because to both of you it was the truth. You were what the other needed most and now it had finally come to light all this time later, and after constant adamant denial that you could actually come to like each other, only for you two to do just that and find yourselves liking each other in a way that made words like ‘like’ and ‘love’ not a strong enough description.

‘Because I actually like you Stanley Pines. I really do.’ You confessed and the weight on your chest that had been there for while had suddenly lifted. ‘I really like you Stanley Pines and time and time again I’ve been finding myself falling for you harder than originally thought. I didn’t think I’d ever find someone but here you are’. You finished, frightened as to what Stan would think but found your head being lifted by your chin and looking Stan directly in the eyes.

‘And here I thought I’d live life as a lonely lousy man until I found you toots.’ Stan says softly as he looked back on his life with fondness while hopefully seeing his future in the depths of your eyes. ‘You’ve made me a happier man than I have been in a long, long time and I don’t want to let that go now, so what do you say sweetheart? Be mine officially?’

You held his face in your hands as you pressed a kiss to his slightly chapped lips, humming in delight when you felt him reciprocate the kiss, feeling his hand move from your chin to the back of your head to keep you engaged in the kiss, as if you had any desire to depart from the man you once thought as a nuisance but now a loving reminder that you were allowed to love.

How and why it took you both this long to realise wasn’t of importance anymore as you both got lost in the feel and taste of the others lips, feeling happier then you have ever been in a while. You didn’t need some paper to tell people you were in love, everyone could see that already form how you’d look at one another, a love so rare between two people they can’t help but stop and stare at you and Stan as they wished they had what you had.

You and Stan were perfect for one another and that night you both slept deeper then ever before within the others arms, knowing that what you felt was mutual that you slept with goofy smiles on your faces with a giddy feeling within your chests.

[noneuclideanwhimsy]

Tbh the more you play TSP the more you get the inexplicable impression that the office building was created by an entity with a very surface-level understanding of what an office building is supposed to be. The place is basically screaming ‘I am a normal location in a normal world where normal human people do Work and Jobs and am definitely not suspended someplace abstract and outside of time at all!’ at you and expecting you to believe it. What jobs do people do in office buildings? Well, they… they push buttons on keyboards! The meeting room is full of details that tell you exactly nothing about what kind of office building this is (other than the fact that somebody named Chris was, at one point, in the broom closet).

The Stanley Parable office building is in the uncanny valley for places.

[rubinaitoart]

#FiddleStantober2024 -- Day 1: First Meeting (yes I know I'm 7 days late)

Writing blurb to go along with it under the cut!

It’s cold and wet. Fiddleford stands alone on a street corner, holding a ratty old satchel over his head to stave off the thick snowflakes. He didn’t have a good coat—couldn’t find it, can’t remember where he left it—so he’s left to walk around in a thin sweater over an equally thin shirt, which the snowflakes soak into and dampen like rain. 

He waits for the walk signal to come on. Did he push the button? Ought’a push it again, just to be sure. His thumb clicks against the icy metal. How long was this light going to take?

“You can just walk across, y’know.”

Fiddleford nearly jumps out of his skin. He looks over his shoulder to see an umbrella, unconsciously counting the fingers—one, two, three, four, five—and then he slowly looks up at the man’s face. Five fingers; yet he’s met with Stanford’s face, framed in a scraggly mullet and equally scraggly scruff along his jaw. The man slowly lifts his eyebrows.

“Ya look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Not-Stanford says. He doesn’t talk like Stanford. His shoulders are stiff and straight, whereas Stanford often slouches; there’s dark circles under his eyes, but he doesn’t look manic. Just tired. Fiddleford blinks once, twice. A third time just to be sure—it’s still Stanford’s face, but not his eyes staring back at him.

“You jus’ look like someone I know.” Fiddleford croaks out. “Knew.” He hastily corrects himself. “Someone I knew.” 

Not-Stanford nods slowly. “You knew him enough, though. Most’a the hicks in this town think I’m my weird recluse of a brother.” He grins thinly, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and waggles the fingers on one hand. “But you know. I saw you countin’ my fingers.”

“Stanford had a brother?” Not-Stanford’s smile drops, and Fiddleford kicks himself for blurting it out like that. “Sorry—sorry, he jus’ didn’t talk ‘bout his personal life real much.” 

“Mm.” The other man grunts. Then, he holds his hand out—for a handshake, Fiddleford realizes, and he quickly grabs the much larger hand with a trembling grip. “M’name’s Stanley. Jeeze, you’re really shaky.” 

Fiddleford doesn’t really know what to say. He squirms a little in discomfort, quickly tucking his arms close to his chest and hugging his old satchel. “Cold.” He finally mutters. There’s a long, awkward silence that stretches out between them. Fiddleford steals a glance at the walk signal—still hasn’t changed, did he push the button? 

“Alright.” Stanley grumbles all of a sudden, stealing Fiddleford’s attention away from the crosswalk and the button he can’t remember pressing. All of a sudden he finds a warm jacket draped over his shoulders—ugh, what was that smell?—and a warm cap tugged over his ears with semi-gloved hands. “Where do you live?”

How does one tell a near-stranger, ‘I don’t live anywhere, and the motel I was staying at just kicked me out?’

“I, uh… well, y’see…” 

Stanley heaves a long, suffering sigh. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyebrows scrunched together in a scowl. There’s several seconds of silence before he speaks through slightly gritted teeth. “I guess you’re coming with me, then.” 

“I don’t want to be a bother—“ Fiddleford quickly shuts up as Stanley shoots him a withering look, one that clearly says there’s no room for argument. He’s baffled. The man clearly doesn’t want to be doing any of this, and yet he’s being so forceful in his… kindness? Pity? Fiddleford doesn’t know what to make of it. But maybe he shouldn’t turn down a chance at staying somewhere warm for a bit. “… thank you.” He mumbles, to which Stanley only offers a low grunt in response.

[lavenderovercast]

MULLET TOWN collab with @honeyandberryjuice

summary: you take it upon yourself to take care of stan, and show him a little slice of heaven. relationship(s): stanley pines x GN!reader warnings: 18+ content, !! MINORS DNI !! author's note: this one was a lil trickier for us to write, but me & honey hope that you guys enjoy it!!! tags: MULLET STAN BABY WE LOVE THAT GUY!!!!, blowjobs/m receiving oral, harsh language/minor name calling, but like in a sexy way i promise, face fucking, plotless porn, fluff, oral sex, pet names, you wanna give stan the world, he wants to give you the world too <3 🌺 prefer to read on ao3? check out the series! 🌺

You have absolutely no idea how you got here. While you were usually the type of person to complain, especially when it meant you accidentally scuffed up your expensive new work boots, you really didn’t feel like you had that much to complain about this time.

Meeting up with Stan definitely had its upsides, especially when it meant you ended up with his fingers pounding inside of you, causing your eyes to roll back into your head. You never meant for it to happen, but the two of you were attracted to each other like magnets and no matter what different methods you tried to pursue to keep him at a comfortable distance, they never fucking worked.

“Yeah, tell me how much ya love it, doll,” His voice rasped, tinged with an almost mean teasing. It was clear that he had no interest in hearing any other response from you other than your moans hitching in your throat as he stretched you out with his thick fingers. His gold chain dangles loosely in front of your face, and you're overwhelmed with the urge to bite it. Only Stan could ever get you this feral over some damn accessory.

The thought suddenly evolves into action and before you know what in seven hells you’re doing, you’ve clamped the metal between your teeth. You glance up at Stan with fire in your eyes, as if you’ve just initiated some challenge that only he would understand— and he does, rather quickly. “You tellin’ me ya wanna use your mouth more, toots?” The grin he shoots down at you is diabolical, like he wouldn’t hesitate for a second to ruin you beyond recognition. You want exactly that.

His fingers pull away from you, leaving you empty and wanting. You would whine for the man and chase after him if you had no sense of dignity. But impressively, you always kept some of that intact during your visits with one another. Your teeth snap together as the gold chain is dragged away from your mouth by Stan adjusting himself in front of you, those big hands of his wandering to your shoulders. His touch is neither gentle nor rough as he pulls you up into a sitting position. 

For a moment, his hands brush affectionately across your temple to wipe away stray hairs that threaten to obscure that pretty face of yours from his vision. “You let me know if it’s too much.” He grumbles, the words a gentle assurance that doesn’t match the frenzied energy in the room now. You can’t stop the grin from forming on your own lips, nodding your head. 

“Yes, sir.” You nearly purr the words, your grin dying into a smile as Stan fights back the urge to fucking growl like some damn, deprived dog at the word that rolled so sweetly off of your tongue. Knowing you’re just doing your best to drive him fucking crazy in the best of ways, his hands find the top of your head and gives an encouraging, gentle push down that leaves you bent in front of him on your hands and knees. 

You don’t hesitate to get right to work. You tilt your head forward and grip onto the zipper of the man’s slacks with your teeth, moving one hand to undo the damned button above it. As you pull the zipper down, Stan has half the mind to help you with dragging his slacks down to his knees. He’s being a gentleman in his own right, not letting his partner put more work than you needed into your pretty performance for him. 

His fingers dig hard into your hair, nails brushing against your scalp as he feels your mouth on his boxers and the hardon underneath. You remember the first time the two of you had ever fucked that you’d been surprised by the size of him— He always exuded confidence, but you had grown to know him as secretly vulnerable and sweet when he had his moments. Suffice to say, you hadn’t been as prepared as you would’ve liked, but had more of a sense of how to handle it now.

The way he’s staring down at you with so much possession and intensity causes a shiver to travel up your body, all the way to the back of your neck. You weren’t always the most assured, but you knew when a man — or, in truth, only Stanley — wanted you. His gaze always made your body feel like fire was burning through your veins, and you had such an intense need to please him, to make him feel things he’d never felt before, that it almost overwhelmed you. Stan sending a cocky grin down your way would’ve made a weaker person combust on the spot, though you had a task to do.

You knew how insane it made Stan to use your mouth for absolutely everything, and you weren't about to let him down now. Without hesitating a second longer, you tip your head forward and grip the band of his boxers between your teeth, yanking hard and letting it snap harshly against his skin. The visceral moan that escapes him is animalistic, though audibly strains as you mischievously swipe your tongue up along the length of him through the fabric. Stan’s grip in your hair grows harsher, if that was even possible, and you let out a thrilled hiss as the delicious pain of it spreads across your skin.

“Filthy little whore, ain’tcha?” His bottom lip is latched by his teeth, though his jaw slacks with an expression that you can only take to mean ‘You’re my whore, and I’ll use you as I please’. Even though you could tease him forever, you know that Stan isn’t the most patient of men and he’d take matters into his own hands soon enough— You wanted to continue the control you were  having over him right now. 

Your cold fingertips brush his hips, dipping below his boxer band to skim over the sensitive spot leading down to his v-line. The boxers come off easily, the length of him springing free, a dewdrop of precum glistening on his pink-hued tip. And Jesus Christ, was the sight intoxicating. You only offer an acknowledging hum to the man’s words, afraid that you’d start drooling like a hungry dog if you tried to open your mouth to offer some sort of playful quip. 

You peek back up at the man through your eyelashes, your lips tugging into a mischievous grin before you dip your head forward, running your tongue across his tip. The salty taste of his precum hits your tongue immediately, only serving as encouragement for you to wrap your lips around your lover’s head. An approving groan sounds from Stan, whose face you haven’t kept your eyes off of. He looks like the wreck that you feel like now already, mullet messy and face flush. 

If you were still a Godly individual, you would pray to the lord that you could keep Stan like this forever, because his current dishevelment is certainly the closest you’ll ever get to heaven. Determined to convey the strong, overwhelming need welling into your chest, you wrap your tongue around the head of Stan’s cock, swirling and moving the muscle skillfully around him. Stan rewards you with another pleased groan, those perfect hands of his applying a gentle pressure to the back of your skull to encourage you further down his cock. 

Typically, you wouldn’t tolerate Stan’s lack of patience. Typically, you would offer some form of punishment— whether that was your teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh of his cock (a sensation that you had a feeling he was very much into), or pulling your mouth off of him to tease and prod at the man until he took initiative over your encounter. This time, you give a hum around his dick and happily comply with the silent request, pushing your head down to take more of his length. 

“Fuck,” The word comes out a sigh more than anything else, and those big hands of his run lovingly through your hair before tightening their grasp again. “Look at you. You’re so hungry for me, hm?” His head tilts as he questions you, a wicked grin tugging the corners of his mouth up as you offer another hum around his dick. And then, with a deep breath drawn in through your nose, you continue your pursuit of making the man crumble under your touch the way that you’ve crumbled under his. 

And there was that blasted impatience again. Even though you were taking him so well, using all the techniques you’d practiced over the span of your relationship, Stan always wanted more. He wasn’t the type of man to only take an inkling of what he wanted— It was all or nothing.

The pressure on the back of your head grows stronger as he pushes you harder against him, the size of him hitting all the way to the back of your throat. Your eyes squeeze closed as you have to concentrate on your breathing, your mouth brimming with saliva as your cheeks begin to ache as you suck every inch of him. You weren’t lucky enough to say you have no gag reflex at all, though you’re a strong person and can fight off the urge if you’re determined enough. Your eyes begin to water, causing small tears to begin streaking down your cheeks, as Stan’s grunts grow louder with every thrust.

“You’re doin’... so well, sweet cheeks.” The man’s voice sounds again, this time breathy and hot. It’s clear that he means it by the jerking that you feel on the roof of your mouth. Maybe it’s the sudden softness in his tone, or the praise he’s giving you, but it gives you further incentive to give him anything he wants. You pat his thigh a few times to tell him that you need a breather, and he pulls himself out of your mouth, the hand that had laid on the back of your head softly sweeping around your face to cup you gently on the cheek. 

You climb to your feet, grabbing his hand between your own and pulling him towards his bed. You lay yourself on your back, head towards him with your head basically hanging off the edge. With a motion towards him, he stepped forward and you gripped the back of his thighs to pull him even closer. “Get back to it, then.” You demand, your tone playful.

Stan barks a laugh, wrapping a hand around his cock to reposition it into your mouth. “Whatever you want, toots.” He doesn’t say anything else as you take all of him once more, happy to find out that your intuition had been correct about changing to this position. Like this, you could take so much more of him without risk of your gag reflex setting you off so harshly.

The man throws his head back and hisses as he feels the tip of his cock even deeper in your throat, the tightness of it enveloping around him and causing a thrill of pleasure to spike through him as your soft lips touch the skin at his base. His head is dizzy from the sensation and his eyes squeeze shut as he moans your name loudly to the ceiling. You feel your crotch throb from the sound, your want so evident in your body’s reaction to his voice alone, but you know good things come to those who wait. Stan was allowed to be selfish in this moment, as he usually went out of his way to make sure you were satisfied before he even entered himself into you.

His arms reach up above his head to rest on the bed canopy, fingers curling around to grip tightly into the wood. You hear the scratch of his nails and know he’s close, your own hands still wrapped around the back of his thighs to try and take more of him. “I’m… I’m gonna cum, doll face.”

The words encourage you to tighten your grasp around the man’s thighs, a muffled whine threatening to rise up from your throat. Something about knowing that you’re the one making him feel this way, making him talk this way— it sends goosebumps across your skin as you double your efforts. Cheeks hollowed around the man, you’re doing the best you can to help Stan reach his limit. When your tongue curls around his cock, trying your damnedest to cover every inch of him, he gives another groan, followed by a gentle buck of his hips. 

Still so considerate of you, even when he’s on the fucking brink. That fact almost drives you as wild as the feeling of him cumming in you does. Stan’s grasp on the wood only tightens as he rocks his hips against you, gentle and careful as he rides out his orgasm. You’re all too happy to let him, swallowing every last drop of his cum with an eagerness that might bring a blush to your face later. It’s only when you can feel his hips come to a halt and his body relaxing above your own that you release your own grasp on his thighs. 

Stan pants softly as he pulls himself from you and your mouth, allowing you to become aware of the drool that now coated the corners of your lips and his cock. You can’t help yourself as a satisfied smile appears on your face as the brunette plops down beside you on the bed. He looks absolutely winded, sweat clinging to his skin as you happily move to cozy up to him. “Good?” 

“Good?” Stan repeats with a scoff, his eyebrows rising as he looks at you with an almost starstruck expression. “Best goddamn head I’ve ever gotten.” He confirms, a toothy grin forming on his face. You aren't allowed to bask in your pride of his praise for very long, though, because Stan moves an arm to gently pull you closer, so you’re damn near on top of him. 

The man nuzzles his face into your neck, his tone rough as his hands roam down your sides. “S’pose I oughta pay you back for that one, huh? Not very gentlemanly of me not to…” 

“Since when…” You begin to tease, but he finds that goddamn spot between your neck and collarbone that makes your breath catch, and your sentence devolves into giggles as you rolls your eyes affectionately at his antics. “...If you insist, sir.” 

A pleased groan rumbles against the sensitive skin of your neck, but before you can do anything else, Stan secures his hands around you to pull you onto his body. You give another giggle at the show of affection and closeness, your heart feeling fuzzy with warmth and your body aching for more of the man.