#kenny mccormick x y/n

[nwjn-z]

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 - 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝟒

warning(s): none

authors note: i was feeling really down about myself so i made these (so i did project on the first one lol), let me know if these cheered you up!

⭑ small chest - kyle broflovski

He honestly doesn’t understand why you are insecure about your chest. He just doesn’t get it bc he’s always thought your chest was cute. He always encourages you to wear low cut tops, body hugging dresses, or whatever it is you are insecure about wearing bc of your chest. Loves seeing the shy look on your face when he tells you that you look pretty when you wear something that reveals your chest a little more. Kyle reminds you all the time how much he loves your body and so should you.

⭑ hip dips - stan marsh

He is so obsessed with your hips. Loves just staring at you when you wear something tight fitting, he just can’t take his eyes off you. He panicked when you told him that his staring made it seem like he was judging you. He literally felt a pain in his chest when you thought he was judging you. Reassures you all the time that he loves your hips by hugging you from behind and rubbing his calloused hands over them.

⭑ scars/stretch marks - kenny mccormick

He also has lots of scars and even a couple stretches marks and he doesn’t see anything wrong with them. He loves tracing and caressing the stretch marks you have (especially if you have some on your chest), and giving all the cuts and scrapes you have kisses. Kenny isn’t a man of many words so he likes physically showing how much he loves all aspects of you.

⭑ being chubby - eric cartman

I know, i know this one sounds cliche BUT hear me out. He’s never viewed your weight as a bad thing if anything he prefers you to be chubby. he likes having someone he can be a foodie with. like most things, he would never admit how much he loves your plush figure but he will physically tell you by laying his head down on your thighs and kneading the softness of your tummy and thighs when you cuddle.

[anakur]

Cuddling him would include... (Featuring The Main 4 & Butters)

🌹| A/N : My first post ^^ I'm glad to have finished it though I am a tad bit worried over my characterisation of them. Guess that's just how I am haha

🥀| Warning(s) : slight nsfw implications- mostly parents' assumptions, but also during the last part for Kenny

Stan ⋆ ˚｡⋆🎧˚

Listening to music. Sharing earbuds or earphones. Especially when his parents are arguing (or if Randy is just... Being Randy)

You two are cuddling, as you look up, you see Stan with his earbud in hand, listening to the noise outside his room. He sighs before turning to you. He presses you closer to him as he turns up the volume on his phone. You wrap your arms around his neck and he closes his eyes, relaxing at your touch.

Smells like weed. Because,, Tegridy Farms.

Wears his beanie when you're cuddling. You take it off and he gets grumpy. Kiss him on his forehead in conciliation and watch as he gets that stupid Charlie Brown grin on his face.

The first few times you cuddled in Stan's room, he cleaned it up beforehand but after the first few times, he stops. Not to say his room is dirty, just, you may find an empty bottle on his nightstand, some clothes tucked underneath his bed or a hoodie draped over his desk chair, threatening to fall.

At some point Stan may get up to move it but it only ends up falling, so he leaves it on the floor. Next time you come over its still there (he swears he picked it up eventually and it just fell again)

The first time you two were cuddling he spent the majority of the cuddling session with his face pressed into the crook of your neck or your shoulder. You found it sweet. He was flustered, because in actuality he was trying to fight the urge to vomit. Eventually he has to excuse himself for a moment. Felt he messed up and ruined the moment, but his heart skipped a beat when he came back to see you waiting for him with open arms.

Kyle ⋆ ˚｡⋆📚˚

He finds drooling to be a bit gross, even though he knows it's not something you control. In the beginning of your relationship he will wake you up to tell you that you were drooling. Reasurres you it's fine when he watches you get embarrassed. Later on in the relationship, he'll just grab a tissue from the box on his nightstand and wipe it off himself.

It's what he keeps his tissue box there for. nothing else

Has to keep the door open, because his mom tells him to. Although his dad is a bit more lenient about it.

Sometimes when you forget about it, Ike will come into the room- having announced himself by a short knock at the door- as he stares at his phone and simply tells you:

" Mom says to keep the door open. "

Ike then proceeds to leave it wide open

" Close it halfway. "

He's already gone.

Kyle's the one who gets up to do it, leaving the door ajar. Everytime. Doesn't make you get up. If you ask for a glass of water, he'll also get it for you (and give you a forehead kiss). Don't abuse that power though, once you overuse it he'll start making you get it yourself.

Will not fall asleep when you're playing with his hair, but, he does feel very comfortable in that position

Says very sweet mushy stuff to you and gets embarrassed when he realizes you were awake the whole time. He trails off and stops talking.

Pushes you away playfully if you ask why he stopped or tell him to continue talking.

If you're watching a movie and cuddling, with a blanket covering you both, especially if it's dark outside and the lights are turned off, Sheila eyes you suspiciously when walking by. Staring particularly onto the blanket on your laps, covering you both waist down.

Kenny ⋆ ˚｡⋆🗑˚

Finds it cute when you drool. He'll chuckle and wipe it off.

Keeps his door closed. Hates it when you can hear his parents arguing. He would offer to share his ear phones but they're not in the greatest condition. Electric sparks flying and exposed wires. So, bringing your own pair would be very much appreciated.

Whispers mushy things to you when you're asleep. When he notices you're awake, he switches it up and starts saying dumb things just to make you laugh. Hears you give in and start giggling and he grins, acting surprised as if he had no idea you were awake.

When Kenny's household becomes too loud, he'll take you outside and lay on the grass together. Makes up constellation names.

It's the middle of the night while you're both sprawled out on the bed. You're sleeping and he's awake. He listens to the sounds outside the window and your breathing. When he hears you moving, he looks over and gently pets your hair, telling you to go back to sleep. His voice quiet and gentle.

be prepared for waking up and having Kenny casually mention he got morning wood

Cartman ⋆ ˚｡⋆🍫˚

Liane asks him to keep the door open but she's very lenient about it, by simply mentioning it as she walks by Cartman's room.

Also will bring you two snacks

Cartman is the type of person to tell his mom you're hungry, when, in fact, he was the one who suggested getting something to eat.

Flabbergasted when his mom turns to you asking what'd you'd like to eat.

Tries to cut you off, suddenly switching to 'we'

Smells like food.

Unlike the other guys he does NOT clean up his room beforehand. I believe however, his room is clean for the most part.

You had to nag him to clean his bed. Yes, his sheets are regularly washed and his bed gets made (both by Liane), but he eats in his bed. Which leaves some crumbs, that stay even after he 'sweeps them off' with his hands.

Imagine Liane's utmost surprise to see her darling son, Eric, on the bathroom floor, with his bed and pillow covers, squinting at the instruction on his phone. He mutters some swear words, before finally turning to her for help.

So the next time you come over, he had cleaned his bed hours before you came and restrained himself from doing anything on it until you arrived.

Actually gets pissed when you don't mention or even notice how clean his bed suddenly has become.

On second thought, he realized you probably will not praise him on a such a basic household task. But c'mon at least acknowledge it.

Lets you lay on him, sometimes.

He's watching some dumb videos on his phone as he had gracefully allowed you to lay your head on his shoulder.

You ask him to turn down the volume.

Fights the urge to not be a dick about it, and not raise the volume.

Begrudgingly he reaches for his headphones.

Once you fall asleep, he starts rubbing your back slowly. Immediately yeets his hand away when you wake up.

Doesn't want to deal with you waking up, even if he himself had also been awake.

" Eric... " you mumble, opening your eyes.

" Go to sleep. " he pushes your head down, as gently as you'd expect him to, onto the pillow.

" But I want water... "

" No. "

" ... What do you mea-"

" If you drink water you'll end up pissing yourself while you sleep. In my bed. "

"... That's not how it works. "

He then proceeded to press you into his chest.

" Fucking sleep. "

Butters ⋆ ˚｡⋆🌼˚

His parents definitely have him leave the door of his bedroom wide open. Not just slightly open. No, fully open. So, the cuddling has to be kept at a modest level.

Just sitting next to each other with some space in the middle between you both.

If his dad walks in, he'll stare at you, as to make sure nothing suspicious is going on.

If his mom walks in, she might remark how nice it is to have you over, asking if you two are comfortable and reminding to keep the doors open.

Holds your hand. Either your fingers are intertwined or he plays with your fingers as you talk, or just lay there in comfortable silence.

Falls asleep first, despite his attempts at staying awake, to make sure you sleep peacefully. However Butters is the one who wakes up first, so you just have him staring at you for a couple of seconds before realizing it may have come across as creepy and apologising for it immediately.

When you traced your finger along the scar on his face, he like squeezed his eyes shut at first. But then next time you ask before doing so, and he relaxes into it. Now he melts when you do it.

Would brush his fingers through your hair, no matter its length. But if his fingers get stuck he freaks out and thinks its his fault.

[senbbonzakura]

Hello Dear! I wanted to make a request for main 4 (from South park obvs) where their S/O meets their family's for the first time if that's okey (you can ignore Cartman if you'r not comfortable with writing for him its okey, I get it LMAO) <333

Also I recommend you do the list of things and characters you will and won't do as fast as possible!

Sorry for possible grammer or spelling errors, English is not my first lenguage :))

sure sweetheart!! ill try to do the list as fast as i can, thank you <3 also i get the grammar, english isnt my first language either, everyone starts somewhere and its okay :) also i made the reader female and no cartman, i hope thats okay!

⋆ F!READER MEETING MAIN 3'S FAMILIES FOR THE FIRST TIME :

✩ — STAN !

at first i feel like it was supposed to be just his mom you would meet

stan does NOT want you to meet his dad.

what if you think stan turns out like him? he doesnt want u to leave him bc of that :(

so he picked a day his dad wouldnt be home on purpose

turns out he actually was home so u met both his parents..

sharon loved you! she thought youre so kind and a perfect partner for her son😭

you didnt talk really much with randy bc stan tried to keep you away from him. i guess randy was just glad that stan isnt "funny"

shelly was actually excited to have another teen girl under the roof

she says youre "meh" but enjoyed meeting you

✩ — KYLE !

my boy was nevrous bc i feel like sheila has some high expectations

higher than kyle..

even tho its his partner😭

she just wants her son not to end up in drugs or smth

when she meets you shes actually obsessed with you!

buttttt, she still keeps an eye on you

just mothers instinct, but she still likes you!

i guess gerald just went with whatever sheila said, but he thinks youre nice

they definitely want you to come over more

i almost forgot that ike also exists

ike is that type of kid to disturb you two every second no matter what youre doing

he just wants that attention from teenagers

imagine how cool he feels hanging out with 2 teens?!?!!!?!!

✩ — KENNY !

his parents made some "drunk" talk with you😭

"life's good? yeah?"

no but fr now

kenny tried to get his parents to stay sober for the day you would meet them

but oops they forgot and drank a little

just enough to still luckily remember that they met you

although you didnt talk much with them bc kenny dragged u to his room

and guess what

U MET KAREN

omg dude. karen is so in love with you fr

atp kenny is jealous

its basically the same thing with karen and with ike.

the only different thing is that kyle probably tells ike to go away or sum while kenny actually agrees for karen to stay

he sees how much joy you bring her!!

if karen is happy then kenny is happy too <3

gimme more requests ygssss

[st4rb3rries]

OMG I LOVED UR STAN AND KYLE BSF HEADCANNONS!! Can i req one with the main four, like what its like to be in a group w/ them?? have an amazing day <33

BEING IN A FRIEND GROUP WITH SOUTH PARKS MAIN 4

pairings; stan, kyle, kenny, cartman x fem!reader (all aged up 18+)

summary; chaotic friend group hc's!

warnings; cussing

a/n; hi and ty hope you have an amazing day too!!

key colors; blue= stan green= kyle orange= kenny red= cartman pink= reader

late night skate boarding with them. it's always cartman who texts you guys to go. in reality he only wants to go to just to start shit. in my opinion kenny is the best skater out of y'all. but cartman is the worst💀. "you guys you guys look im gonna go down the ramp!!" "cartman that isn't a good idea your not ready-" "WAAAAAHHHHH" laughter is coming out from you, stan, and kenny. kyle wants to laugh but he ain't risking it😭. "GAWDAMMIT KYLE IM BEAT YOUR J-" cartman stops himself because he knows damn well not to rip on kyle in front of you. so he switches up real fast 🙄. "you guys i seriously think i broke a bone" "whatever cartman you just switched up cause you know y/n would kick your ass" 5 minutes kenny is teaching you, stan, and kyle a trick. "ok so next you gotta-" "get a room lovebirds i mean come on🙄" "CARTMAN STFU!!" "yeah dude stay mad because your not psychically able to do any of this🥱" this all happens in less than 15 minutes, like why can't y'all just be a nice friend group😭. moments later stan was about to go off a ramp. UNTIL HIS WHEELS BROKE OFF THE SKATEBOARD. i wonder who unscrewed them..... "AAAUAGHHHHHH" "DON'T WORRY STAN I GOTCHU!!" and there he was, stanly marsh in your arms. "W rizz stan or nah😏" stan could feel his face heating up fr. "damn dude that should've been me not stan😔" "kenny shut the hell up💀" "wait a minute where's cartman he literally almost killed stan tf????" cartman isn't trying to get his ass kicked in front of people so he ditched and went home. classic cartman.

karaoke night. you guys are definitely singing 2000's songs. but it always seems like you guys get interrupted no matter what. karaoke night was started by cartman, which is so surprising?? "I WANNA HOLD'EM LIKE THEY DO IN TEXAS, PLEASE" "FOLD'EM LET'EM HIT ME RAISE IT BABY STAY WITH M-" stan and kyle always hating cause you and cartman sound a little too good. "BOOO GET OFF THE STAGE" "YA MY EARS ARE BLEEDING" "OH FUCK OFF GUYS LET US SING" "you guys have been singing this same song for 2 hours bruh😭" "2 minutes kenny get it right" they just hating cause they can't handle real talent. sometimes when the karaoke gets intense you guys act like judges for americas got talent💀. "is this kenny mccormick from south park colorado?" "yes" "and what will you be doing today?" "YOUR MOM AHAHA" "disqualified poor people can't seem to have talent" "CARTMAN WTF" "NEXT" "no wait i'll sing with him" "oh god" if kyle and stan think you and cartman sound a little too good. JUST WAIT UNTIL THEY HERE YOU AND KENNY. "THIS ONE IS FOR THE BOYS WITH THE BOOMIN SYSTEM" "TOP DOWN AC WITH THE COOLER SYSTEM" super bass by nicki minaj is y'alls go to song. every time you guys finish that song your out of breath and laugh so much😭. "AND THE CROWD GUYS MILD🔥" "NEXT" "cartman we are done playing americas got talent" "dude let me and kyle sing next we haven't sung at all🥹" "fine" "ah hell nah it better not be anything emo💀" *30 seconds later every one starts singing* "BUT IM A CREEP" "IM A WERIDO" "WHAT THE HELL AM I DOIN' HERE" "I DON'T BELONG HERE" suddenly the tv, microphones, and speaker goes out?? "LISTEN UP BITCHES IM NOT HAVING AN ALCOHOLIC, A JEW, A FATHERLESS DAUGHTER, AND A HOMELESS POOR BOY SING RADIOHEAD AT MY HOUSE‼️‼️" guess who got jumped that night🤔???

[cocogrrrl]

who are you?

while you're on a date with your boyfriend, when a girl comes up claiming that she's his boyfriend. (requested!)

main three (separate) x gn!reader cw: fear of being cheated on/replaced for two, yn being called a whore + sleaze wc: 2046 for all

an: my first request!!!!!! >▿< i hope this suffices! also stan's is a lot more light hearted than kenny and kyle's huhu

🍀 k. broflovski (wc: 679)

You were out on a park date with Kyle. The two of you were propped up against a tree, with your body loosely leaning on his as well. You buried yourself further into him, your lips humming against his neck.

He seemed to find the action ticklish, brushing you off of his shoulder by gently holding your head up by the chin as if you were just as delicate as porcelain. He stared at you, and you could tell that it seemed like he couldn’t get enough of you. 

“I love-” you whispered against his lips, right before being cut off by a foreign voice off in the distance.

“Who are you?” A random girl spat out right in front of you. Kyle immediately let go of your chin, both of you sharing a confused look before looking back at her.

Kyle was the first one to answer. “What do you mean?” He asked, turning his head at the girl. 

“Huuhhhh!? You’re my boyfriend, duh! Why are you hanging out with… that?” She said. Immediately, your head whipped towards Kyle’s direction, eyes pleading to confirm or deny that what she said was true.

“Look,” he sighed, closing his eyes—an action you’ve come to familiarize yourself with whenever he got upset or angered. Hopefully, he hasn’t been lying to you, right? I mean, he does seem genuine, but…god. “I have no idea who you are or what you’re trying to do. Can you just leave us alone?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, that’s exactly what a two-timing dick would say!”

“I think you’re looking for the wrong guy. I’m not whoever your boyfriend is.”

“Yes, you are! You’re,” she took a short pause. “...Brad.” She said with full conviction. It felt almost as if a thunderstorm swept itself off your shoulder. You released the biggest sigh you must’ve let out in your life. “And I can’t believe you’re cheating on me! With someone less hotter than me, not to mention.”

“Don’t you dare talk about my partner like that!” Now he snapped, pulling you close to him. “Just cut whatever the fuck you’re trying to do. You got the wrong name anyway!”

She stared at him in shock and disbelief, her jaw dropping on the floor. She turned around, probably to walk away now, but before she did, she leaned into you. “Watch out for that son of a bitch.” She said, walking away right after.

“I’m sorry,” he let out an exasperated sigh, holding your body up as he rested his head on your shoulder. “Gah, I feel so embarrassed.”

“Hey,” you cooed, patting his head. “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know, but I,” he mumbled, his frustration making him grip onto you a little tighter. “Agh, thank you.” He raised his head, smiling at you. “I hope you weren’t super worried or anything.”

“I kinda was…” You pouted. “It’s not your fault or anything! I know you're better than that. My mind just started jumping to conclusions faster than I could stop it. Sorry.”

“No, no,” he said, removing his hands wrapped around you to lift your head, making you make eye contact with him. “I understand.”

“Thank you, Kyle, especially for when you were defending me earlier.” You hummed, leaning into his touch.

“Thank you too, YN, for not storming out or anything.” He laughed. “You were about to say something earlier, right? Before that whole thing happened?”

Your mind snapped back to earlier, and you quickly nodded. “It was nothing.”

“No, I wanna hear it.” He smiled. 

“Ah, well,” you nervously mumbled against his hand. “I just wanted to say I love you…” Your words came up more muffled than remotely discernable, to which Kyle found himself giggling.

“What?”

You raised your head from his hand, dragging your lips right next to Kyle’s—the same position you two were in a few moments ago. “I just wanted to say I love you.” You whispered, all breathy.

“I love you too.” He giggled, nudging his nose into yours as he briefly closed the gap.

🍁 k. mccormick (wc: 755)

Traveling through the streets with Kenny, your arms were intertwined—swinging as you two circled around the town. You two shared your headphones. The sun shone but hid within the cloud, so you two weren’t burning right now. If anything, the lush breeze of cold winds blew against you two and made everything cold for you.

Suddenly, something stopped the two of you dead in your tracks.

“Who are you?” A girl spoke up, making you two put your little walk on pause. “And what are you doing with my boyfriend?” Quickly, your head jolted towards Kenny��s, who gave you a look just as shocked as yours.

Now, your relationship with him was still awfully fresh. Before this, he often went from girl to girl. He never really was confirmed to have dated two people at once, but he was a heartthrob amongst most, nonetheless. You worried, like any other rational person. What if he was really two-timing you two?

You turned back to look at her, mumbling out a nervous “I don’t know?” You didn’t notice it at first, but you let go of his hand, your concerns quickly getting the better of you.

“Well, he is my boyfriend, and I think you’re just being used by him.” She said, pushing you off to the side as she hugged Kenny’s arms like a koala—who pushed her off of him immediately. 

“Kenny, is this true?” You looked at him, maintaining a farther distance from him. You were worried, maybe a little insecure too. Those attributes were playing themselves to the maximum right now.

“God, of course not!” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head and walking over to grab you by the sides of your arms. You flinched and took a few steps behind. “YN. I’d never do a thing like that. I understand you’re worried, given everything about me before, but I promise.”

“How can I be sure of that?” You looked worriedly at him, then back at the girl who had a smug grin on her face. 

“Because I like you,” he breathed out. “I like you a whole lot.” He smiled at you, not daring to move any closer for fear it would make you uncomfortable. “And because I have no fuckin’ idea who this girl is.” For a split second, you felt like you could completely trust him again like he was being genuinely honest. For a split second, just his gaze cured you of all your worries.

The girl spoke up once more. “What? I’m your girlfriend!” Just like that, your fears snapped back as fast as they left. You stood there frozen, watching what Kenny would say next.

“Look, girl, I really don’t know who you are.” Kenny rolled his eyes, sighing as he rubbed the back of his neck to relieve some tension. “So unless you got some hard proof that we’ve hooked up before, like texts or pictures or somethin’, YN is my partner as far as I’m concerned.”

She scoffed in reply, but she remained silent. Seems like she was stirring up some trouble all for nothing then. “I… I don’t, but I can’t believe you’re sleeping around with some sleaze!”

He walked up to her, pressing his hands firmly on her shoulders. “Now, you don’t talk to my partner like that, yeah? You know as much about me as I know as much about you—which is none. Stop prying yourself here. It’s fucking embarrassing and you’re only humiliating yourself.” He turned her body away from his direction, giving her a little push. He pulled you and lead you into the opposite direction she was facing.

“Are you okay?” Kenny asked, wrapping his arm around you.

“Yeah, don’t worry,” you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry for that. I’d never do that to you, you know?” He cooed, playing with your hair with the arm around you.

“I know, I know, but that had me completely worried for a second—if I’m being honest and all.”

“I get why. I can’t say I blame you. I mean, I’d be as worried as you were if I were in the same position.” You found him resting his head on yours as well. “But, I just hope you know that ever since we got together, I’ve completely changed from that side of me. I really like you a lot, and I just can’t bare the thought of losing you because of something stupid like that.”

“Ken?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you, Kenny. I like you a lot too.”

🎸 s. marsh (wc: 612)

You and Stan were by a bar, mindlessly chatting as you two were mindlessly drinking. The atmosphere was crowded and busy. Though it would be overwhelming, especially adding onto the strong scents of alcohol and sweat, you’ve learned how to tune those things out as best as you could.

Stan was currently talking about what he and his best friend Kyle were up to earlier, you gazing deeply at him—forgetting to pay attention, even. “Yeah, and then Kyle was all angry all of a sudden. I get it, though, but like-”

A whiny, near-shrill voice caught both of your attention. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She sighed, taking a seat right next to him, hugging his arm.

Needless to say, Stan had a bothered look, pulling his arm away from her as he faced back to you, mouthing a ‘Who is she?’ at you. You shrugged.

To be honest, you were pretty sure that Stan hasn’t been seeing other people. I mean, he spent most of his time either with you, Kyle, or at work. He work alongside Kyle, and you trusted his friend, so you were sure you would’ve heard something already if he was doing something like that.

The girl behind scoffed. “Oh, my god! You’re so embarrassed. Why did you do that to me? Your girlfriend? Hellooooo?” She yelled amongst all the noise, waving a hand in front of his face.

Stan rolled his eyes, pinching his nose. “Dude, look,” he sighed, turning his direction towards her. “I only talk to, like, five people a day, max—and that includes my parents. I don’t know what your deal is, but I literally have no idea who you are.” He replied blankly but at the same volume.

“You’re only saying that because you're with some trashy whore you found on the street. You’re too nice to hurt her feelings.” She sneered, glaring at you deeply. You weren’t hurt by her comment, you were better than that, but you did find her really funny.

“Don’t say that. That’s my actual partner.” He shook his head, rubbing the sides of it to cool himself down. “We’ve been together for a year now. You’re just embarrassing yourself.”

“But I am your girlfriend!” She pouted, landing a fist on the table.

“Don’t think so.” He hummed nonchalantly, taking a sip of his drink.

“You’re so annoying! I’m breaking up with you.”

“Wow. I’m so hurt.” He replied sarcastically, tapping his foot and resting his head on the palm of his hand as he waited for the exchange to be over.

“Ugh, don’t come crying saying you regret you did!” She cried, pushing him as she got out of the place, making a beeline towards the door underneath the luminous ‘exit’ sign.

“Uhuh, ‘kay. Buh-bye.” He said, double-checking if she was actually gone. A few moments after she was gone, you burst into a laugh. Stan rolled his eyes at first but found himself joining you as well—with him even ending up banging on the table.

“What exactly just was that?” You exhaled, catching a breath as you wiped away a tear from your laughs.

“No idea. Fuckin’ weak, though, babe,” he said, brushing your hair out of your face as he tucked the strands behind your ears. “You’re okay, though, right? I’m sure you are. I’m just checking up on you if-”

“Stan, I’m fine. I trust you.” You giggled, pressing a peck on his cheek. “Especially because you had the balls to admit that the only people you talk to, other than Kyle and me, are your parents.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “Shut up. Oh, my god.”

[hunnysnoops]

₊˚｡⋆❆ 𝔹𝕦𝕣𝕟 𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖 ❆⋆｡˚₊

Chapter One: Wolves Without Teeth

Kenny McCormick x fem reader

You hover like a hummingbird, haunt me in my sleep. You're sailing from another world, sinking in my sea. You're feeding on my energy. I'm letting go of it, he wants it. 

Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!

Premise: A collision at the ice rink leaves you with a gnarly bruise and a hockey player who is quick to be infatuated. Kenny McCormick takes it upon himself to be the first to break you out of your shell.

Warnings: brief mention of injury / crude language

MASTERLIST

Moving to the middle of the rink, you and Craig get ready to begin your routine. As the familiar song begins to play, you inhale deeply and pay attention to the beat. Craig looks up at you and nods reassuringly. Everything about this has been overdone to the point it doesn’t make you nervous: the rise and fall of your chest, cold air stinging your skin, the only warmth in the arena rests between you and Craig. With a series of elegant moves, you start off by cutting smooth lines into the ice with your blades. Every motion is intentional, a precise dexterity you attain from day after day trying to reach something close to perfection.

As you glide into the first lift, you feel Craig's hands firmly grasp your waist. With a practiced ease, he lifts you high, and you stretch your arms and legs, creating a perfect line. You savour the feeling of weightlessness so you might taste it later. He lowers you gently, and you land seamlessly, continuing into a series of synchronized spins.

"Nice," Katya calls from the side of the rink where she watched the two of you with her arms crossed, picking apart each and every movement. She was an ex-champion from Sweden, and now she coached figure skating in Colorado "Craig, get your knee deeper." 

Barely even thinking, Craig does as he's told and lunges further. You had been skating with Craig for the past nine years though you didn't talk much he was what you considered to be your only friend who was your age. He had been the sole human to show up to your barren birthday parties since fourth grade. All of your trust poured into him, with every leap and scratch of your blade slicing across the ice. 

Each step of the routine builds on the one before it with ease. You perform a sequence of deft footwork, your blades clicking quickly and rhythmically on the ice. Craig perfectly mimics your movements and stands by you, steadying you with his hands. You two loop around the rink, hitting every mark of the choreography with ease.

As the music swells, you prepare for the jump sequence. You've practiced this countless times far too many times to hold any nerves over it. "Don't rush it, hold your edge longer," Katya shouts, accent thick. You approach the takeoff point, feeling Craig's presence close beside you. With a powerful push, you launch into the air, twisting and turning with grace. The landing is smooth, and you immediately transition into a spin, feeling the centrifugal force pulling at you.

Craig moves into position for the final lift. You gather your strength and leap, offering your faith to him completely. His hands are strong and steady as he lifts you high above his head. The audience, though imaginary today, would be breathless. You extend your arms, holding the pose for a beat before he brings you back down.

The routine ends with a dramatic flourish. You and Craig strike the final pose where his hands are secured on the small of your back as you lull backwards until your head is inches away from the ice, breathing hard but exhilarated. The music fades, and the rink is silent again. You catch your breath, face red, Craig skates in a little circle, one hand gripping his black hair. 

"Good job," You smile holding your hand up for a high five. Craig eyes you for a second before caving and gliding over to land his hand over yours. 

"Beautiful work," Katya smiles brightly at the winded pair of you. She looks down at her watch biting her lip "I wanted to do some strength work but we went a little over time so just do your cooldowns and head out, we'll pick this up tomorrow."

"Craig's strong enough," You tease though Katya doesn't seem to take it that way.

She shakes her head "There is always work to be done. The day you stop pushing yourself is the day you fail." 

"Oh," You glance at Craig "Um, okay." You probably spoke more at practice than you did anywhere else which wasn't saying much as you preferred to keep your thoughts to yourself on most days. 

You move into a series of gentle stretches, reaching down to touch your toes, and feeling the pull along your hamstrings. The cool air of the rink mingles with the heat of your exertion. You extend one leg behind you, leaning forward to stretch your back and shoulders, thinking back to the routine you performed only minutes ago you think of all the things you could improve on and make a mental list that you will soon put onto paper. 

You had butchered your cool down, trying to leave as soon as possible. Right after your nightly sessions a group of rowdy hockey players would swarm the rink careless of whether you were still in there or not and it wasn't particularly something you were fond of. 

Craig, on the other side of the rink, begins his own routine. He skates slowly, his strides long and deliberate, a stark contrast to the intense moves from earlier. He stops and bends down, touching the ice with his fingers, and stretching his long legs and back. 

You notice Craig moving into some balance exercises, lifting one leg behind him and holding his arms out for stability. It's a simple move, but one that requires focus and control, skills he's perfected over years of practice. You can see the concentration on his face, and the way he fine-tunes his posture and alignment like the world would end if he stumbled.

You slink off the ice and slip guards on over your blades, not wanting to risk any damage from the rubber or accidentally set your blade on something one of the hockey players left behind. The walls are adorned with colourful banners celebrating local hockey teams, figure skaters, and upcoming events. Scuffed benches line the corridor, providing a spot for spectators and players to rest or lace up their skates. As you peer down the corridor, your fears are proven to be true. 

Sitting down long rows of benches or standing up and blocking the halls is the hockey team that you were so careful to avoid. Quickly you begin to unlace your skates, hurriedly grabbing your duffle bag from your locker and tucking the skates inside. 

Of course, they line themselves up perfectly to block the entrance. It wasn't the people themselves that you were irritated by but how loud they were when they were all together. Even when your headphones were in and the volume turned to the max you could still hear them yelling and cackling no matter where you were in the building. 

The best part of winter was how the snow acted like soundproofing for the whole world and made everything really quiet though the hockey team was quick to cancel that out with their crude jokes. Aside from Craig's boyfriend, you hadn't spoken to anyone on the team as far as you knew. 

Their bulky gear makes the narrow passage even tighter. You adjust your bag on your shoulder and take a deep breath, weaving your way through the crowd.

"Excuse me," you say politely, trying to slip past them. The boys are engrossed in their conversation, their roughhousing spilling over into your path. One of the boys pushes his friend onto you and has you stumbling away, trying to keep your balance. 

Just as you think you've made it through, one of them swings his hockey stick at the punchline of a joke, not noticing you. The butt end of the stick catches you squarely in the stomach, the impact knocking the wind out of you. The pain is immediate and intense. It's not just a surface-level ache but a deep, visceral throb that spreads outward from the point of impact. Your breath catches in your throat, and a gasp escapes your lips as you double over instinctively, clutching your stomach.

The laughter stops immediately, and the boy who hit you looks horrified. His blue eyes are filled with instant regret as they draw wide. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry,” he exclaims, rushing to your side. His friends gather around, awkwardly glancing around at each other. 

"It's fine," You say through laboured breaths. It definitely was not fine. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine worry. You nod, still trying to catch your breath. He gently helps you up, his hands finally finding a firm grip on your arm and shoulder. As you stand, you notice the way he's looking at you, his eyes studying the features of your face. 

For a moment, he's stunned, his gaze locked on your face. In the harsh fluorescent lighting of the hallway, he takes in the delicate curve of your jaw, the light glinting off your eyes, and the way your hair frames your face, slightly disheveled but pretty nonetheless. He seems momentarily lost, his apology stuck in his throat as he's struck by you up close.

He recognized you as Craig's partner and the girl he passed in the hallway who wouldn't spare him a glance, he tried to approach you on several occasions but your headphones were always in and you didn't even notice him trying to talk to you through the music blasting in your ears, leaving him humbled. He had his eyes on you for a while,  you were what his little sister referred to as a hallway crush- someone he thought was attractive when he saw you in passing but had never properly spoken to. 

The pain and shock have left you somewhat dazed, and his sudden proximity only intensifies that feeling. You pull your arm away from his grip "Please don't touch me." 

"Do you want-

"No," You dismiss him before he even starts "It's fine." Despite the pain gnawing at your stomach, you manage to shoulder your duffle bag and hurridly stagger out of the exit

Kenny blinks, snapping out of his daze and running a hand through his blonde shaggy hair. "I'm so sorry," he calls after you, his voice more earnest now though his eyes travel down your body and take in the way your leggings cling to your legs.

Stan abruptly smacks him on the arm, it is still felt through the padding "You are such a dick, Kenny."

"What?" He swerves his head to look at Stan "I didn't mean to."

"You didn't mean to stare at her ass?"

"Um, yes?" He had spent months trying to talk to you when you didn't have headphones in, and now that moment finally happened he had fumbled so badly that it was over before it even started. 

"Kenny, that is not what happened," Stan calls out his friend's incredibly incorrect account of the night before. The school hallways were far from barren, students rushed back and forth, slamming their lockers shut and hunting down their friends.

"So what actually happened?" Kyle asked, digging through his locker, back turned to his friends.

"Kenny hit her," Stan says.

"Why would you hit her?"

"I didn't mean to," Kenny retorts, "I was making a joke and I accidentally hit her with my stick."

"He was making a joke and fucking winded her," Stan corrects.

"She was not winded-

"She was keeling over, clutching her stomach, and coughing." He remembered getting sucker punched by Shelly right beneath his ribs and imagined that you were feeling something similar when you were hit. "Oh and then she asked him not to touch her."

"I wouldn't want this freak touching me either if I were her," Kyle shoves a textbook into his backpack and zips it up.

"What do you mean by that?" Kenny furrows his eyebrows though is question goes unanswered.

"Hey Slumlord, Jewrat, Stan," Cartman disrupts the conversation, joining their little circle in the hallway "What's going on?"

"Kenny hit a girl," Stan says.

"Nice man," Cartman gives Kenny a firm pat on the back, leaving Kyle to wrinkle his nose in distaste.

"Dude, stop, I actually feel bad about it," Kenny says, chewing the inside of his mouth, thoughts focused on the little glimpses he caught of you.

"No, you don't," Kyle slings his backpack on after grabbing his phone from a pocket "You just want to get laid."

"Why can't it be both?" He was almost wistful.

"Who's this chick you're in love with?" Cartman asked. Lately, he wasn't as up-to-date on his friend's matters as he'd like to be, being left out of an inside joke to him was a fate worse than death.

"This girl who skates with Craig," Kenny shoves his hands into the pockets of his old warn jeans. Part of him was regretting leaving his jacket in his locker, winter in Colorado was cold no matter if you were inside or not "And I'm not in love with her, I just like looking at her."

"Maybe talk about this with someone as gross as you," Kyle doesn't bother to look up from his game of Candy Crush, he had an addiction though he would never admit to it. He would act oblivious whenever someone asked him if he was playing it.

Something catches Kenny's eye, you brush past the group without even casting them a glance. Kenny excuses himself and trails behind you, trying to catch your attention.

As you stand at your locker, the music blaring in your ears serves as a shield from the outside world. The thrashing guitar drowns out the noise of the bustling hallway, wrapping you in your own private bubble of sound. You were preparing yourself to spend your lunch period studying and trying to ignore the ache in your stomach from the night prior. 

Unbeknownst to you, Kenny approaches, his footsteps barely registering over the music. He hesitates for a moment, watching you carefully as you focus on organizing your books and belongings. His lips move, forming words he hopes will reach you through the barrier of your headphones.

"Hey," he says, his voice gentle but unheard amidst the din in your ears.

You continue to rummage in your locker, oblivious to his presence. Kenny clears his throat softly, trying again to get your attention. He gestures towards you, a small smile on his face, but you don't notice.

He takes a step closer, his hand hovering near your shoulder as he tries to catch your eye though he retracts it after recalling the way you shook him off previously. "Hey," he repeats, a little louder this time.

Finally, you glance up, startled to see Kenny standing there, a grin playing on his face. You quickly pull out your headphones, and the music is abruptly silenced. You stare at him, silently waiting for him to continue.

It takes him a beat to realize and then he picks up where he left off, "Just wanted to say I'm sorry about last night."

"You already did." 

"Uh, yeah," he chuckles, rubbing the nape of his neck. You were now getting a good look at his face. He had a nice smile, dimples, most notably a faint little scar over the bridge of his nose and a silver piercing through his right eyebrow "I just felt really bad, let me make it up to you and buy you lunch?"

"I packed my own," You said flatly. 

"Do you like coffee?"

You didn't even think about entertaining this idea, you swiftly shook your head.  "I'm not good company," Before giving him another chance to speak, you put your headphones back in, moving past him.

Kenny had been rejected a handful of times, namely in middle school, but yours hit him the worst. 

You weren't one to recklessly date or recklessly do anything really. All that mattered was achieving a top ranking in your country and eventually making your way to the Olympics, everything else was an afterthought or a stepping stone to get there. 

There were some days when you would eat lunch with Craig, though with Tweak being so jumpy, you spent most days you did as you are doing now. Eating lunch alone in your English class. As you push the door open, you see Mrs. Miller typing on her laptop, she looks towards the door and gives you a little smile as you enter. 

She was a middle-aged Filipino woman with the most beautiful black hair you had ever seen. It fell down to the small of her back and shined like silk under the harsh lights in the school. You first had her as your teacher in the ninth grade, after writing a paper about skating she told you that she was once a skater. Mrs. Miller quickly became your favourite teacher. You were now in your senior year and still you spent lunch wallowing in her classroom. 

Pausing at her desk, you unzip your bag and pull out a little package wrapped in parchment and secured in a bow of twine. She looks up from her papers, her warm smile inviting you to continue. "It's a cream cheese pound cake. I made it last night."

Her eyes light up with genuine appreciation. "Thank you, this is my favourite part of the day." She takes the pound cake from you, her smile growing even wider. Being as avid of a baker as you were, there was far too much excess to leave to go bad, you didn't really have friends to give them to so you let your step-dad bring it to work though you always brought a little bit for Mrs. Miller as a little thanks for letting you stay in her classroom. 

You sit in the corner of the classroom, no one dares enter during lunch, you always thought that the students must have feared the written word. The usual hum of voices and clatter of footsteps is replaced by the soft rustle of pages as you study. Your lunch, a simple sandwich and an apple, rests on the desk beside your notebook, untouched for now. The sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow on the bookshelves lined with classics and contemporary novels.

As you take a bite of your sandwich, somewhat disappointed in the combination you had chosen. Your eyes flittered to your phone rather than to your work, in mere moments you had abandoned studying in favour of looking at baking recipes on Pinterest, saving the ones that caught your eye and humming quietly to your music. 

Which recipe would you make that night to settle after skating? Your mom loved lemons but your step-dad was a die-hard chocolate guy though he would really eat whatever you baked and brag about it to his friends at work. 

"Mrs. Miller?" You take your headphones out and look at her.

"Yes?" She looks up from her papers, her warm smile inviting you to continue.

"Would you rather have lemon loaf or black forest brownies?" Some might think it sad that you only had two friends and one of them was your English teacher but you didn't find an ounce of loneliness in it. 

"Hm," She leans back in her chair, thinking long and hard over it before coming to her conclusion "Oh, both sound great, but I think I gotta say black forest brownies, never had them before."

You answer her with a little thumbs up and scribble it down in your notes. Sifting through the internet for a recipe, you find one and start tweaking it to your liking, After crossing out measurements and ingredients and then filling them back in, you snap a picture and send it to your step-dad.

New Message- FIFA man 

You: Thoughts? 

FIFA man: Looks awesome kiddo 😎❤️😘

FIFA man: I'll pick you up from skating ⛸ tonight 🌃

You: Is mom working tonight?

FIFA man: Yes 👍

FIFA man: Do you need a ride 🚗 there? 

You: No, Craig's driving me

FIFA man: Cool 😎 tell him I say hi 👋

FIFA man: Do you want takeout 🥡 or chicken 🐓 and veg 🌽🥕🥦🥬???

You: Chickens good

FIFA man: Awesome 😎🤠🥰😇

FIFA man: I need to grocery 🍎🥐🥩🥬🥑 shop 🛍 tomorrow

FIFA man: Send me a list pls 📝

You: Okay 

FIFA man: Love you 🤬

You: ?

You: Are you mad?

FIFA man: No 🥶

You: Why did you use the cursing emoji?

FIFA man: I thought it was kissing 🤔 LOL IJBOL 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Todd overused emojis to the point his texts were hard to read, but you always caught yourself giggling at them. You turn up the volume on your phone, letting your favourite music fill your ears as you take another bite of your sandwich. The melody shifts your thoughts back to the ice rink. You can almost feel the cold air and hear the sound of blades cutting through ice. Figure skating has always been your escape, a separate world where a blade stood between you and the ice. You remember the exhilaration of landing a perfect jump, and the applause from the audience, it was like a drug, little hits of dopamine each time you heard that familiar cheering from strangers in the crowd, it was the only loud sound you wanted to hear. 

As the song plays, you imagine yourself skating to it. Each note guides your movements, from the elegant arcs of your arms to the powerful sweeps of your legs. You visualize the choreography in your mind, picturing how you would translate the music into a captivating routine. The swells of the hymn dictate your jumps and spins, while the softer passages call for graceful glides and delicate footwork. 

You were really one to dream away your time. Every program you watched, you imagined what it was like to be them, to feel what they did, to see what they did. It consumed you entirely.

Mrs. Miller had always tried to get you out of your shell, pairing you with the loud kids in class, and assigning public speaking assignments, but you always wound up coming back into her classroom to soak in the quiet soft scribble of her red correction pen. 

Kenny was never keen on waking up early. Though he had recently been inclined to pick up more shifts at work, meaning he would be skipping several practices and had to make up the time elsewhere. He dragged his hockey bag behind him as he entered the rink. In the winter, it was dark almost all of the time, by the time he reached the arena, the sun wasn't even out yet. 

He checked the time sheet posted upfront to be sure no one had booked the ice time, luckily he was in the clear. Kenny didn't bother to put all of his gear on, he just shed his thick coat, leaving him in a hoodie and sweatpants while he laced up his skates and shook the now-melting snow from his hair. There was no need for all of the padding when he would be the only one in there, boring himself to death doing technique work.

"Kenny?" Coach Trevor pokes his head out of his office. His face splits into a smile when he spots Kenny on the bench "Good seeing you buddy, didn't expect you to be here bright and early."

"Me neither," He shakes his head slightly.

"We missed you last night at practice."

"Uh, yeah, sorry, I've been working more, I'm just trying to juggle everything right now." Kenny stood up and shifted his weight, fiddling with the worn tape on his hockey stick.

Trevor's brow furrowed in concern. "I understand the need to work, Kenny, but your performance on the ice is slipping. You're falling behind on your drills and your conditioning. It's not just about showing up; it's about being present and giving it your all."

"I'll, uh- ask if they can switch my schedule around," He lied through his teeth. Kenny couldn't quit his job to play hockey or cut down his hours, he wouldn't even be able to afford to play hockey if he didn't have a job. 

"Okay," Trevor gives him a thin-lipped smile and a firm pat on the shoulder "Let me know how it goes and we can work something out."

"You got it," He returns the smile, giving the coach a little thumbs up. Trevor retreated back into his office as Kenny entered the abnormally quiet rink. His brief conversation with Trevor was enough to make him want to lie down on the ice and wait until the cool air of the rink froze him whole.

That feeling of desolation melted away the second he saw you on the other side of the arena. Across the rink, you are engrossed in your own world, skating solo on a secluded patch of ice. Your headphones are in and you're buried deep in concentration. You execute each move with precision, lost in the rhythm and flow of your routine.

Like a shot of caffeine, he suddenly didn't feel tired, straightening up his posture as he stepped onto the ice. The first few glides were always the most exhilarating, a reminder of why he loved the sport like he was weightless. 

If you had noticed him enter, you gave no indication, not even a quick look in his direction. It was just you and your music, shifting gracefully along the sleet. Your arms swayed above your head, controlled and elegant like the wings of a swan. 

First was the axel. You skated backward, building up speed before launching into the air with a powerful push from your right leg. Your body rotated mid-air, arms tucked in tightly, and time seemed to slow for a moment. You landed smoothly on your left foot, the blade biting into the ice, a soft scrape marking your descent.

Next, you transitioned seamlessly into a toe loop. You approached the jump with a series of elegant crossovers, each movement precise and calculated. Planting the toe pick of your right skate into the ice, you used it as a pivot to leap into the air, your body spinning in a controlled rotation. The landing was crisp, your knees bending slightly to absorb the impact. With every movement, you thought of each correction Katya had given you. 

With barely a pause, you moved into a sequence of spins. Starting with a camel spin, you extend your right leg behind you, your body bending forward in a perfect horizontal line. The spin began slowly, the centrifugal force pulling at your outstretched limbs, then gradually sped up as you pulled your arms and leg in tighter. The world blurred around you, the only constant the center of your spin.

Kenny found himself in awe of your movement. He had never seen you skate and frankly hadn't expected you to be so good. He tightened his grip on his stick, pushing off with purpose and shaking the thoughts from his head. Kenny was here to practice, not to watch you run a routine. 

However, as he skated, his eyes kept drifting towards you. You were in your element, gliding effortlessly across the ice, your movements fluid and precise. The sight of you skating with such grace captivated him, drawing his attention away from his own drills.

Without realizing it, Kenny's focus wavered. His skates lost their cadence, and his mind wandered as he watched you execute another flawless turn. He failed to notice the approaching sideboard in that split second of distraction.

Suddenly, reality snapped back into focus as Kenny collided hard with the sideboard, the impact jolting through his body. He winced in pain, clutching his shoulder where it had taken the brunt of the crash. His collision echoed through the rink, drawing your attention at last. 

Maybe it had been karma for hitting you so hard the night but good lord, he was hurting. "Are you okay?" You take out one headphone, sliding into a stop to watch him

"She speaks," He says, somewhat winded but his voice carries a teasing lilt. You just stare at him, waiting for a proper answer, not feeling pressure to push further for one. Kenny uses the sideboard to yank himself up, wiping the shavings from the ice off him and then looking at you "Yes, I'm okay."

You nod in the slightest, moving to put your headphones back in but in the seconds before it connects to your ear, he seized the moment.

"I'm Kenny."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know?" He asks, a lopsided smile on his face "How?"

"You're-" You pause, you didn't exactly know how to phrase it but you had seen him in the halls with his friends, screaming in the locker room, and hitting up girls. If anything, you were an observer, a wallflower as opposed to a Venus fly trap. 

"A whore?" He asks. You open your mouth to speak but close it right away, letting the words die in your throat "Oh, jeez, you really think I am?"

"I was going to say, you talk a lot" You say, politely. 

"Well, compared to you, yeah." He waits another beat for you to respond but is met with nothing but a blank stare. Kenny let out a breath, a little cloud escaping from his mouth "Nah, I get it, you're shy."

"I'm not shy," You say, feeling yourself cringe at the word. You hated when people called you that, they tended to be the same who treated you like a pet since you couldn’t fit a word in between their constant back and forth "I just like my-" You rack your brain for the right word "Aloneness." 

"Then I will leave you to your aloneness," He says, reaching back for his stick and turning away from you. Kenny weaved through invisible cones with the puck like he was actually practising with his team, focusing on control and precision. He kept his eyes up, forcing himself to rely on his peripheral vision to navigate.

You really didn't care what he did, without another thought you unpause your music and go back into your movements. You changed into a sit spin and sank yourself into a low squat without slowing down. Your arms made a graceful arc above your head, and your left leg extended in front of you, toes pointing. The sensation was both thrilling and disorienting as the ice whirled beneath you during the quick and low spin.

You changed into a layback spin as soon as you got out of the sit spin. Your back arched flawlessly, head tipped back, eyes closed, the ceiling of the rink a faraway haze. Your free leg was raised slightly behind you as your arms softly curved around your head. 

Finishing your spins, you took a moment to catch your breath, the music in your headphones guiding your next movements. From the corner of your eye, you see Kenny doing the exact opposite of what he said. He's staring at you from the other side. 

His eyebrows furrow deep, the way you twist and turn your body replaying in his mind on repeat until he notices you watching him, crossing your arms "How do you do your crossovers like that?"

You stare him dead in the eyes and point at your figure skates, a different type of blade entirely.

"Yeah, figure skates, I know but my crossovers are so clunky and yours are just- clean." He knew how you did yours, probably hours, weeks, and years of practicing longer and relentlessly than he did. Also, the fact you were trained for grace and agility while he was trained for speed and strength. He just wanted to dig for ways to get you to talk to him. 

"Show me how you do yours," you say, tone flat. "Forwards and backwards." 

Kenny took a deep breath, positioning himself on the ice. He started his crossovers, his movements stiff and deliberate. His knees were slightly bent, but his weight seemed unevenly distributed, causing his skates to scrape awkwardly against the ice semi-purposefully. He plays it up in hopes that you'll correct him. 

"First, bend your knees slightly- not too much. Keep your core engaged and your weight centred over your skates." 

Kenny bent his knees a bit more and adjusted his posture, arms out at his sides. "Like this?"

You bite your lip, wanting to cringe at his positioning though you were raised too well to do so. "I- Can I show you?"

"Be my guest," There it is, just what he was looking for. You skated to his side, demonstrating the correct posture. Kenny studies your form, attempting to mimic it "Better?"

"No," you said bluntly. "Not like that." With a sigh, you skated closer and placed your hands on his shoulders, adjusting them to be more relaxed. "Relax your shoulders. You're too tense."

Kenny's breath caught slightly at your touch, but he quickly tried to hide it. "This good?"

"Yup," you replied, moving your hands to his hips, guiding his posture. "Now, shift your weight over your skates, keep your core engaged. Feel the balance." Skating felt like the only thing you could talk about. Usually, you just didn't speak when you had nothing to say but skating gave you purpose. 

Your proximity made the air between you feel charged, and for a moment, Kenny forgot he was supposed to be pretending. "Alright, I think I've got it."

You step back slightly but still close enough to correct him if needed. "Now, when you cross one foot over the other, push off with the edges of your skates. It's about finding a fluid motion."

You showed off a couple of crossovers, and you moved with ease and fluidity. With elegance, your left foot crossed over your right, and you leaned slightly into the turn while keeping perfect balance.

Kenny tried again, this time paying more attention to your instructions. His movements were still awkward, but there was a noticeable improvement. He looked at you for validation.

"Better," you said, your tone softening slightly. "But you're still too stiff. Relax your upper body more." You placed your hands on his shoulders again, gently pushing them down. "Let your legs guide you."

Kenny nodded, feeling the warmth of your hands through his hoodie. He took a deep breath and tried again, bending his knees, relaxing his shoulders, and tilting into the turn. This time, his movements felt smoother and more controlled. He could feel the fluidity you had described, he didn't come into this actually intending to learn something but he stood corrected.

"Listen to your skating, if it looks like this," You sweep your leg back, pushing off the ice to demonstrate "And it sounds like that, you're using one leg, it should be two. You should hear the rip on the ice, go again."

Kenny does as told and you see him implementing what you had said "Looks good," you nod, already skating away to continue your routine. Kenny watched you for a moment, admiring your skill, feeling the lingering warmth of your touch.

He skated closer, a playful glint in his eyes. "I think I need a bit more help. You know, hands-on guidance really works for me."

You look back at him, putting your headphones in as you do so "I think you're fine." 

Every minute you spent on the ice that morning, you savoured it like you would never have it again. It was easy for you to ignore Kenny's staring, it was just like a miniature audience. Having eyes on you never hindered your performance and maybe that was why you found it so easy to ignore people.

Unfortunately, you had to leave the rink eventually. While you didn't mind school, you weren't thrilled for it- particularly the awkwardness that came about when you had to pick partners. Your grades weren't by any means perfect but you managed to keep your above water just enough to skate as often as you did. 

You begin the ritual of unlacing your pristinely kept skates, Kenny sitting on the bench across from you doing the same. You slip your shoes on, tucking your skates away and look up at him "Have you had breakfast yet?"

His head shot up, face lighting up. His lips curved into an easy, charming smile and you could understand how he drew so much attention without trying "No, do you wanna get some?"

"No," you said, curtly. 

"Oh," his face dropped but he still kept a staggered smile, watching you reach into your bag.

"Do you want these?" You pulled a box from your tote bag, holding it out to Kenny. "They're brownies, I made too many," That was only half true. You made a lot, figuring your stepdad would take them to work for the staff to munch on but he insisted that you should bring them to school and hand them out like high school students initiated friendships by passing baked goods back and forth.

"Don't you wanna give them to your friends?" Kenny asks and you shake your head. You had already set Mrs. Miller's brownie apart, wrapping it in parchment like you always did and most days you didn't see Craig until you skated at night. "Sweet," He muttered reaching over to take the box from your grip.

 "You can share them with your friends," You say slinging your duffle over your shoulder and holding your tote bag in hand. Kenny wasted no time digging into the brownies, he had the box on his lap one brownie in hand as he sunk his teeth into it. 

"Hell no, they don't deserve this," he says between bites "I'm keeping this to myself." 

There was always that little sense of pride when someone was enjoying what you baked. Usually, you would eavesdrop on your parents while they ate your baking to be sure they genuinely liked it. Kenny's reaction almost had you smiling. Almost. 

"Are you leaving already?" Kenny asked as you walked away, headphones back on and deaf to whatever he was saying "Okay, bye.”

A/N: I rewrote this a bajillion times and I’m still not happy with it but I don’t have the strength in me for another rewrite so here she is ✊

[bblueberrypancakes]

Craig: Man, they look like a real handful. How do you deal with them?

Y/n, watching Stan screaming, Cartman trying to set a sleeping Kyle on fire, and Kenny choking on air: I don't know either.

[garb-rage]

Going Thrift Shopping with the main 4 (Hcs)

🛼- Summary - Head cannons about your experience thrift shopping with the boys!

- Pairing(s)- (SEPARATE) Kenny McCormick, Kyle Broflovski, Stan Marsh, and Eric Cartman x gn!Reader

🛼- Reader info - gn!reader and established relationship

- Warnings - none! (Unless you count swearing ig lmao)

………………………………………………………

🐀 - Kenny McCormick -

He’s so down, he’s SEEN all the ice cold shit you’ve found, and wants in on the action asap

Kenny had known about thrifting for a while, but hadn’t put too much thought into it due to money being tight and all, but according to YOU

“You just have to know where to look”

“Trust me I know a spot” “trust me this is where the heat is”

And trust you he did, because after taking him to some fun spots, there was no going back.

Thrifting buddy 24/7, just LOVES looking at the old clothes and pretending to be an old geezer with you, it makes him giggle

Fr makes up stories about shit he finds, probably forced you to wear it and purposely make you feel silly

“THIS old sweater was worn in the trenches of Mexico alongside my great great grandpa” 💀💀 and it’s a Star Wars T-shirt

Purposely finds good and bad clothes for you and him (he has pretty good fashion sense so you KNOW when hes got a shit eating grin)

If the shop has changing rooms, expect long ass fashion shows, the man spends WAY too much time looking at himself. He probably won’t even buy anything 98% of the time!! He’s just having fun with you!

Honestly, neither of you fucking knew that South Park had so many little shops like that!! Small towns DECEIVE!

The both of you almost always get coffee after a haul, it just feels right

And showing up to Tweek Bros. In the new shirt/sweater/etc, he feels like royalty ngl

Overall Kenny really enjoys the time spent with you, and the small moments between showing each other items or clothes really makes him feel momentarily flushed (he sees this sparkle in your eyes and he can’t help but melt)

Probably calls you a Cougar if you’re wearing something he deems “old” smh 😔

Also expect lots of “this reminded me of you”s and its the ugliest t-shirt you’ve ever seen

🧤 - Kyle Broflovski -

Ok he probably didn’t understand it at first and got kind of worried like

Is this your last resort 😔😔 he wouldn’t mind getting you something nice if you wanted 😔😔😔

You had to explain its a THING for you, like, it’s fun and you can find some pretty cool and cute things if you look hard enough!

Whatever, he wants to join in order to understand, and he surprisingly has good luck with good finds?? You’ll definitely force him to try at least ONE thing

Listen. This boy dresses himself like his mom still picks out his clothes ok. Button-ups, polos, nice jackets, Kyle’s a smartass and he wants to dress the part (😍) so for some reason it’s SO new to him, and he’s worried he’ll find something stupid and he won’t even know

Just wants your approval (he’s a sweaty nerd)

SURPRISINGLY, FINDS THE COOLEST THINGS! EVERY TIME!

Ok not every time but the matching old ass Terrance And Phillip shirts are a huge flex to him so hes happy

You’ll probably buy most of the things he shows you (they become your favorite and you wear them constantly)

Kyle and you are the same.like. “Oh this? Kyle found this necklace when we went thrifting together 🙄🙄”

And he’s constantly letting everyone know “Yeah this is a 1986 original Terrance And Phillip T-shirt matching with my partner 🙄🙄”

Everyone’s sick of it

You’ll go home with him after thrifting and Ike will TOTALLY make fun of you guys

Kyle, poor boy so In love, gets extremely giddy when you’re wearing something he found for you (blushing mess tbh)

Melts even more when you get some old stuffed animal for Ike and Ike ends up ADORING it (bonus brownie points from Sheila and Gerald)

He still doesn’t understand the whole thrift thing, I mean, newer clothes just last longer and fit his style more!! What!!

He enjoys going with you anyways and lovingly watches you get excited over small things like that <3

🎸 - Stan Marsh -

Crazy not so crazy, he’s actually gone a few times, really likes it too if it’s a good day

This, of course, makes you SUPER happy and you’re instantly dragging him to every spot South Park has

When he was with the goth kids, he remembered them talking about it, tried it for himself and was slightly obsessed for a bit

Indifferent about most of it, just likes going for the old band shirts or something with a funny graphic on it

Maybe a jacket or two as well

ACTUALLY he goes insane if there’s a cool looking varsity jacket or some jerseys yet to be worn

Although,,,,,,he has the worst luck with everything he cannot find anything good or something he likes,,,,

It’s either got shit stains or beer stains or god forbid SHARPIE or PAINT like WHY are these here

You gotta step in and hand him some of your luck, he wants his punk rock t-shirts or whatever 🙄 (he’s eternally grateful)

Thinks you look super cute in anything you’ve found, but gets slightly impatient if you’re taking too long in a dressing room or looking In the same section for too long

If there’s a certain band shirt you’re both looking for? He’s going to the ends of the earth (Just in South Park) to find it for you

Naturally, you’ll both have a blast just talking about where things have come from or chuckling over something funny looking

You’ll dress each other up in jackets too big for each other, it’s sweet and innocent 😭😭✊

Shelley caught wind of you two going thrifting every so often, she’ll kick out Stan and just wanna go with you 💀💀

Spoiler alert Shelley has TOO much fun with you and it becomes a thing (much to Stan’s dismay)

You’ll MOST LIKELY find stupid shit with her and constantly “hahaha Stan would look fucking STUPID in this”

“I know right!!”

Randy saw you wearing something you had found with Stan, thought it was Sharon’s for a while and was super confused 🤨🤨🤨

Overall, super fun chill time with the Marsh boy you love him, go get Ice cream with him after a haul ✊✊

🦝 - Eric Cartman -

“What the fuck are you wearing”

“It’s a cardigan I found doesn’t it look good!”

“Found where 💀💀💀”

ALSO DIDNT understand it and probably heard “shoplifting” instead of the former

You have to FORCE him to join you tbh and he suggested robbing Stan’s mom would get the job done faster, whatever

Pretends to be SUUUUPER bored and uninterested, like ugh he’s shopping? Says it’s totally gay

(SECRETLY LOVES SEEING YOU HAPPY 🥶)

Probably wouldn’t look around, just tag along while pretending to hate the entire experience (you know he doesn’t, you see his eyes go towards cool looking things in the shops)

Gets pretty impatient if he’s somewhere for too long, unless you REALLY beg him and find something that “meets his standards”

HATED thrifting until you found him a shirt without sleeves, looked corny as hell, had some bootleg graphic and inspirational quote and shit

Eric FELL IN LOVE WITH IT 😭😭 it showed off his muscles of course

You just HAD to get it for him, doesn’t stop wearing it, claims he found it until you give him the side eye

“We found it together 😍🙏”

“🤨”

You won’t go as often with him, but when you do (and when he’s not bitching about how boring it is), it’s actually a really fun time and he’ll make you crack tf up with snarky comments about things

He’s rude-funny and you are in love with it, especially when it’s towards something you like, you KNOW he doesn’t mean that bs towards you

Liane just HAD to mention that thrifting gets quite a lot of business in South Park, his con-man instincts went wild

Eric just wanted to start a business with you!! Resell items and clothes as if they were worth it! (They are not) fake stories galore!

Stop him before it’s too late please

DAMN WRITING FOR THEM HIS DIFFICULT, HOPE ITS IN CHARACTER, FIRST POST YALL 💀🙏

[nwjn-z]

𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐏*𝐫𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬

warning(s): nsfw, swearing, straight up p*rn

author’s note: i was going through my bookmarks and thought of this, they are aged up to be in their 20s don’t be weird

⭑ kyle broflovski

is such a love maker but can also be so rough. absolutely loves using your clothes as leverage to fuck you. has ripped multiple skirts, panties, and dresses before bc he doesn’t realise his own strength when he is pulling on them bc he gets so lost in how good your pussy feels. he’s addicted. (it’s okay bc he bought you new ones to say sorry)

⭑ stan marsh

love love loves lazy but still rough sex. he loves laying back and watching you bounce yourself on his dick while pulling your hair and slapping your ass. music in the back is a must when yall are fucking. loves praising you.

⭑ kenny mccormick

loves hitting it from the back. he’s a certified freak but sometimes he likes to really enjoy simple sex yk? but what he loves most is when you rock yourself back on him and use his cock to get yourself off. he thinks it’s the hottest shit ever seeing you eagerly fuck your self with his dick.

⭑ eric cartman

rough. hard. and fast. would best describe sex with eric. one thing him and kyle have in common is being the roughest guys in bed. he literally fucks you into the mattress. loves pushing down on your waist and drilling himself in you.

[princesskenny1998]

South Park | Kenny McCormick x inexperienced!f!reader ~ Not Ready

The soft hum of the TV fills the room, as you sit on your bed next to Kenny. On the screen, a woman in a blood-splattered dress screams as a masked killer chases her through a dimly lit hallway. Kenny’s hand rests casually on your knee, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your jeans as he watches the movie with his usual laid-back demeanor.

You’ve never really been into slasher films. In fact, you can’t recall if you’ve ever sat through one without feeling uneasy. But tonight isn’t about the movie, not really. It’s about spending time with Kenny McCormick, your new boyfriend—the guy every girl in town knows. He’s the kind of boy other girls warn you about, the one who moves effortlessly from one fling to the next. He has that mischievous glint in his eye, a perpetual smirk, and this unspoken charm that makes him seem untouchable. Girls like you… well, you’ve always stayed out of his orbit.

Until now.

You know Kenny’s reputation. The whispers in the hallway at school. The knowing glances you get from other girls, as if they’re surprised you managed to keep him interested this long. You’re not blind to the fact that most people don’t expect your relationship to last. Kenny’s a flirt. Everyone knows that. And, though he’s been sweet with you, there’s always this underlying tension, this unspoken expectation that eventually, you’ll cross that line. That’s what everyone thinks, right?

The movie reaches a tense moment—a girl in a cabin holding her breath as the killer prowls outside. You don’t notice the tension in your own body until Kenny shifts beside you. You glance over at him and catch his eye just as he leans in slightly, his face so close to yours that you can feel his breath.

Your heart skips a beat.

Here it comes, you think. This is it. You’re alone with him, the house is quiet, and there’s no one to interrupt. You knew this was coming eventually, but now that it’s happening, you feel a knot tighten in your stomach. You’re not ready. Or maybe you’re just not sure. It’s hard to tell what’s nerves and what’s insecurity.

You’ve never been in this situation before. Not like this. You’ve heard the stories, the gossip about Kenny’s conquests. He’s been with other girls—girls who were more experienced, girls who probably knew exactly what to do, what to say. But you? You don’t even know where to start. What if you mess it up? What if you disappoint him? What if he gets bored?

He leans in closer, his hand sliding up to your shoulder, gentle and unhurried. You can tell he’s testing the waters, waiting for you to meet him halfway. But you can’t. Your heart is racing too fast, your mind clouded with doubt.

“Hey,” Kenny murmurs, his voice low and smooth, almost playful. “You good?”

You force a smile, but you know it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, though the words feel heavy, unconvincing.

Kenny’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, and you can see the shift in his expression. He’s not buying it. He’s sharp, Kenny. He notices things, even if he pretends not to. Slowly, he leans back, giving you a little more space, his hand still resting lightly on your shoulder.

“You don’t seem fine,” he says, softer this time, almost like he’s coaxing the truth out of you.

You bite your lip, your eyes flickering to the TV, trying to focus on the movie. But all you can think about is how out of your depth you feel. Kenny’s been with girls before. He probably knows exactly what he’s doing. You, on the other hand, have no idea. What if you don’t live up to what he expects? What if he loses interest because you’re not ready to take things further?

Your chest tightens at the thought.

“I just…” you begin, but the words stick in your throat. You glance at him, and his expression is so open, so patient, that it makes you feel even worse. How do you explain to someone like Kenny—who seems so confident, so effortlessly cool—that you’re scared of letting him down?

“I know I’m probably not like… the other girls you’ve been with,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m just… not ready yet.”

You hate how vulnerable you sound. But it’s the truth. You’re not ready. And the idea of losing him because of that scares you more than anything.

For a second, Kenny just looks at you, his brow furrowing slightly as if he’s trying to process what you’ve said. And then, to your surprise, he smiles—this soft, genuine smile that you don’t see often, not when he’s around other people.

“Hey, that’s cool,” he says, his voice easy and warm. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I mean it.”

You blink, not entirely sure you’ve heard him right. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” He shifts his weight, leaning back against your headboard, his arm still around you but looser now, more casual. “I’m not in a rush or anything.”

You can’t help but stare at him, half expecting there to be some sort of catch. But there isn’t. He’s just sitting there, watching you, totally relaxed.

“Look,” he says, running a hand through his messy blonde hair, “I like you. Not because of… whatever you think I’m expecting from you. I mean, yeah, I’ve been with other girls, but that doesn’t mean I expect anything from you. We can go as slow as you want. Or not at all. It’s up to you.”

A small weight lifts from your chest, though the insecurities still linger at the edges of your mind. “You’re not… disappointed?” you ask, your voice small.

Kenny chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Disappointed? Nah. I’d be disappointed if you felt like you had to do something you didn’t want to. I’m not that kind of guy.” He gives you a look—one of those rare moments where he drops the sarcastic front, and you see the real Kenny underneath. The Kenny who actually cares about people, even if he doesn’t show it all the time.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “I just… I don’t want you to get bored with me or something.”

Kenny raises an eyebrow. “Bored? With you?” He grins and nudges you playfully. “Trust me, that’s not gonna happen.”

You feel your cheeks warm, and for the first time all night, you actually relax a little. Maybe this isn’t as complicated as you’ve been making it out to be. Maybe Kenny isn’t just the player everyone makes him out to be.

“Come here,” Kenny says, pulling you closer to him. He wraps his arm around you and rests his chin on top of your head. “We can just chill, alright? No pressure.”

You nod against his chest, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. You lean into him, his warmth comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. The movie continues to play in the background, the sound of screaming and eerie music filling the room, but you barely notice it now. Kenny’s hand moves to your back, rubbing small circles there, and for the first time tonight, you feel like you can breathe.

“Thanks, Ken,” you whisper after a moment.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Anytime.”

You settle into the quiet, the weight of your insecurities still there but less suffocating now. Kenny isn’t rushing you. He isn’t pressuring you. And maybe, just maybe, this relationship isn’t what everyone else thinks it is. Maybe Kenny sees more in you than you give yourself credit for.

As the movie plays on, you close your eyes and rest your head on his chest, his steady heartbeat soothing the last of your nerves. You don’t know what the future holds for you and Kenny, but for now, this is enough. Just the two of you, curled up together, no expectations, no pressure. Just… being. And for the first time in a long time, that feels like more than enough.

Kenny tightens his hold on you, and you smile to yourself, letting the warmth of the moment sink in. Maybe Kenny McCormick isn’t the guy everyone thinks he is after all. Maybe he’s just… Kenny. And that’s more than okay with you.

[senbbonzakura]

Could you please do what the first time fucking would be like with the main 3? 🫶

Thanksss :)

okiii!!

⋆ FIRST TIME WITH MAIN 3 :

✩ — STAN !

he doesn't know what to do

nevrous af

he wants to ask you to just take things into your hands but what if you think hes a pussy not a man...

ur just about to see his dick???!!! and hes about to see ur body????!!!

keeps asking if you're sure that you want this

in the end he just decides to go with the flow.

he trusts you after all, if something goes wrong he'll go through it with you

so he does what he thinks is right

experience is... not bad

just would be nicer if he had some confidence

✩ — KYLE !

asks if youre okay literally every 5 seconds.

needs to make sure he wont make you feel bad about this

hes not as nervous as stan

he knows what needs to be done

if he does smth wrong just laughs it off

makes sure youre comfortable

praises you after

"you did so good f me, honey"

asks if you need something when you two are done

IMMEDIATELY runs to give you whatever you need

✩ — KENNY !

knows how to... somehow

he asks if u want to yk

promises to be gentle

was he gentle? oh yeah

but only at the beginning

i mean at first he was really slow to let you adjust and when u got used to the feeling he started rlly like fucking you rather than love making

holds you the whole time

extra points if you scratched his back

man lives for that shit

he hopes it leaves a scar

[ceresun]

birthday wishes

pairing : k. broflovski x gn! reader, k.mccormick x gn! reader

summary : just some headcanons of these two on their significant other’s birthday <3

extra : yes i know im committed to bwbbr? BUTTTT i need to get in the writing mood guys :( anyways enjoy these hcs :3 ALSO ITS MY BDAYYY!!!

𝐊. 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐈 :

I’d like to think that Kyle would buy his significant other a nice bouquet of flowers on their birthday. He’d make sure the bouquet consists of all your favorite flowers, and makes sure to give you a small plushie along with it! Another thing he’d do is get his significant other a gift. He’d buy you something he knows you’ve been eyeing, or if he doesn’t know he’d ask all your friends on what to get you.

Since the Broflovski’s are wealthy, I definitely see Kyle getting his significant other more than one gift! He’d make sure all the gifts he’s giving you are the best quality, too. Along with all the gifts he’d give his significant other, he’d probably take them on a nice date somewhere. He’d take them somewhere he knows matches what his significant other is interested in (even if he finds it boring).

If his significant other is hosting a party for their birthday he’d definitely attend. Again, he’d be buying you more than one gift. After all, it’s your birthday!! He’d definitely make sure to arrive early so he can help you set up the party. The whole time he’d be helping out and just being a literal gentleman. He’d even stay late after the party to help you clean everything up. He ends up having a sleepover with you and it’s just so cute. On his significant other’s birthday he just tries his hardest to be a gentleman <33.

𝐊. 𝐌𝐂𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊 :

With Kenny, I’d like to think that he tries his absolute hardest to save up just to buy his significant other a gift. It’s so sad, but he literally saves up for months just so he can buy a nice gift. He’d buy you a small bouquet but he still makes sure it’s pretty and has your favorite flower. He’d try and find a small and simple gift to give you, because he’d feel so bad if he didn’t.

Since Kenny comes from a not-so-wealthy family, he can’t really take you on a cool date. So instead, he’d take his significant other on a cute walk at the park. Maybe he would even organize a small picnic at the park, but it’d really depend on how him and his family are doing financially. After all, he wouldn’t wanna make you bring everything to a picnic he organized!

If his significant other was hosting a party for their birthday, he’d obviously attend. He’d want to arrive early, but he’s in charge of Karen so he’d have to get her ready. That would probably have Kenny arriving a tad bit late.. But he makes up for it by helping with anything else! He’d even stay late to help clean up. I know he’d be the type to want to stay the night but he’s got to take care of Karen who is already asleep in his arms lol. So he’d have to leave :(. He does end up taking some food home, though! He’d just really try to make his significant other happy on their special day, no matter what it costs him </3.

© ceresun >ᴗ< -> my works are not to be translated or reposted without permission!

[st4rb3rries]

summer activities with the main 4

pairings; stan, kyle, kenny, cartman x fem!reader (aged up 18+)

summary; going to the water park/gas station with them

warnings; cussing, mention of drugs

a/n; sorry for being inactive!! i love you guys hope you enjoy<3

key colors; blue= stan green= kyle orange= kenny red= cartman pink= reader

so i feel like you guys would go to the water park because it's so hot. kyle is the one who suggested it because cartman can't stfu. "what the fuck it's so hot" "then how about we go to the water park tubby" "DON'T CALL ME TUBBY YOU STUPID J- that's actually not a bad idea" "shiii im down it's hot as fuck" "fr" "but not as hot as hot as me😘" "who said you were hot in the first place🤨" so all of you guys walked back to your houses and to go get ready. we all know kyle is the mom friend so he brings extra towels, sunscreen, and floaties and puts it in a suitcase. once you all meet up you guys just decided to walk there. "god kyle did you not get the memo were going to the waterpark not the airport🙄" "WELL CARTMAN I WAS JUST TRYING TO LOOK OUT FOR YOU GUYS LOOK AT YOURSELVES YOU GUYS DIDN'T EVEN BRING A SINGLE TOWEL" "thanks for bringing us stuff mom ilysm🥰" "yeah yeah whatever let's just start walking" when you guys get there for some reason kenny and cartman BROUGHT A WHOLE ASS SPEAKER??? *random song playing on speaker* "AW DUDE WTH YOUR EMBARRISING US" "BITCHHH TURN THAT SHIT DOWNN😭" *kyle grabs the speaker and throws it into an "empty" pool* (rip to the kid who was in the pool) "come on stan and y/n lets go swim, but first we gotta put on sunscreen" "bro think's he's the main character💀" "im gonna fucking kill him" "bro thinks he's the villain 💀" your guys favorite thing to do at the waterpark is the slides for sure. or should i say it's you and kenny's favorite thing to do. "WOOHOOO WATER SLIDES Y/N LET'S GO" "YYASSS" "god they're so childish, real men make kids fall of slides" "CARTMAN NO-" so after you and kenny were finished with all the slides. you decided to invite stan because he hasn't done anything being the emo bitch he is🙄. "come on stan lets go next" "no" "yes" "no" he's only saying no because he's afraid he's gonna barf on you since. you guys have to hold each other tight on the slide. (it's in the rules😉) bro is not tryna get caught lacking with having a crush on you. yeah you guessed he finally said yes to you. "ARE YOU READDY STAN HOLD ON TIGHT" "oh god" *not even 5 seconds later* "BLEGHHHHH-" "EW DUDE SICK WTF" bro doesn't even say sorry cause he's too embarrassed. good thing kyle only saw you guys. cartman and kenny would've been laughing their asses off💀. "looks like someone threw a love bomb on you guys *wink*" "shut it kyle" anyways good thing kyle had his big ass suitcase prepared with towels and extra bathing suits. at the end of the day kenny is flirting with the life guards and cartman is torturing kids. but you, stan, and kyle always look foreword to the sunset each day and luckily. the water park has a perfect view for that so you guys were excited. (you guys got kicked out before the sunset)

after getting escorted out the water park you decide to go your local gas station for slushies and snacks. "you guys you guys w-wait up" "come on cartman walk faster" "CAN'T YOU SEE IM TRYING STAN WE JUST CAME FROM THE WATER PARK" "yeah like 2 mintues ago" "LAST ONE WHO GETS THERE HAS TO PAY FOR ALL OUR STUFF" all of you guys start zooming just to piss off cartman. "GODAMMIT WAIT UP" when you guys finally arrive (yes you guys waited for cartman) the cashier always has a look of terror on his face because he knows that you guys. might end up buying the whole store, or accidently set it on fire. "LOOK Y/N SOUR CANDY OUR FAVORITE" "BY THE WHOLE ROW RN" "oh no no no you guys we aren't doing this again." he's only saying this because one time you and kyle ate so much sour candy that you guys passed out. when stan saw you guys he thought y'all did c0k3 because there was white powder everywhere. in reality it was sour dust💀. so he's still traumatized from sour candy because he thought his best bud and future gf died. "stan relax we won't even eat this much this time, right kyle?" "righttt" meanwhile kenny and cartman are fucking up the slushie machine. "kenny i'll give you $5 if you pour slushie into your shoes" "alr bet"*puts slushie in shoes* "BAHAHA KENNY YK I WOULDN'T GIVE YOU $5 FOR THAT" "ik that's why im gonna drink it nothing ain't going to waste😈" "look kenny real men drink out of the slushie machine not their shoes🤓" "you guys are you ready to go🙄" "nah hold up dude lemme get my razzberry slush real quick" as stan tries to get his slush the machine literally explodes everywhere😭. "AH SHIT" "HAHA STAN YOU DUMB BITCH" "ah hell nah smurf nut exploded everywhere" "HAHAH SMURF NUT" "fuck it i say we make a run for it and never come back we can't this shit in time" "at this point yeah😭" "and you guys know damn well none of us brought cash" "NO WAY KYLE BEING A MAN FOR ONCE AND TRYNA STEAL WOAHHH😮" "SHUT IT F@T@SS THEY'RE GONNA HEAR US" "LETS GO THE CASHIER IS SLEEPING" "HELL YEAH FREE STUFF" "PURR LET'S GO😜" you guys ran out with all your snacks and never came back😭. but we all know kyle is gonna come back and repay for the damages and stealing. until he see's photos of himself and you guys on the door saying your banned. "oh fuck"

[cocogrrrl]

The first time you call Kenny ‘angel,’ he takes it like how you would call him any other pet name. Frankly, he’s flattered. Frankly, he loves it—but just as much as he would love any other name you’d call him.

That’s okay. That’s how you play it off anyway. It means nothing more than a sweet action—err, title, you’ve given him.

What he doesn’t realize is that you believe in this name you call him. 

He’s a heaven-sent sweetheart, love boundless and ever so fruitful despite the unfortunate circumstances he’s in.

His hands, crooked, ever-changing whenever you find him resurrected, undeterred by all it has been through, only care, hold the soft, unscathed ones of the people he loves. His eyes, a hazel that knows the horrors of the universe all too well, only hold hope and only see the best in anything and everything. 

An angel does not need its wings or halo to be called one. An angel, to you, is Kenny, who always exemplifies what it means to be virtuous and compassionate to the world.

“Kenny?” You hum, half asleep on his shoulder. 

“Hmm?” He turns to you, turning his head.

He’s clueless as to how much adoration you hold for him. You’re clueless as to how much adoration he holds for you as well. You don’t doubt it. What either of you know is that it's present, and it's overwhelmingly plenty.

You shift around, your arms bearing the weight of the rest of your body. Settling properly, you bring his face close to yours, hands caressing the scars on his cheek.

“Angel, my angel. I love you.”

[hunnysnoops]

₊˚｡⋆❆ 𝔹𝕦𝕣𝕟 𝔸𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖 ❆⋆｡˚₊

Chapter Three: Get Free

Kenny McCormick x Reader

Sometimes it feels like I've got a war in my mind. I wanna get off, but I keep riding the ride. I never really noticed that I had to decide to play someone's game or live my own life

Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!

Premise: A blizzard takes the town of South Park by surprise

Warnings: I dunno

MASTERLIST

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

You stand at the stainless steel counter, your fingers deftly slicing through a plump tomato. Your eyes are focused intently on the task at hand, a slight furrow of concentration etched between your brows. The fluorescent lights above cast a harsh glow over the food studies classroom, bouncing off the polished surfaces and reflecting in the glass-fronted cabinets filled with an array of kitchen tools.

Around you, the din of your classmates' chatter fills the air. Your group- three obscenely loud boys- are at the counter's far end, their laughter echoing off the tiled walls. They're supposed to be helping you prepare the day's assignment: a simple Caprese salad followed by a homemade pasta dish. Instead, they're tossing flour at each other, their white aprons now streaked with powdery handprints and taking videos of every second of it.

"Hey, how's it going over there?" one of them, Douglas, calls out between bouts of laughter. He's the ringleader, tall and athletic, his messy brunette hair falling into his eyes. He flashes you a grin, one that is equal parts charm and mischief.

Spencer had been the one to coerce you into the group though you didn't have much choice as everyone began to split into partners and you were left in the dust, watching everyone happily rush over to their friends. You were stuck in a group with your ex-boyfriend and his two best friends until the semester ended.

You glance up briefly, offering a small, tight-lipped smile. You give him a little thumbs up and quickly avert your gaze, your cheeks tinged with a faint heat. Interacting with them always leaves you feeling exposed, as if your quiet nature is something to be mocked or dismissed.

"Sweet," Douglas says, already turning back to his friends, who are now cackling while they filmed TikToks with the same repetitive audio.

You sigh inwardly, your grip tightening on the knife handle. It's not that you mind cooking—far from it. You love the precision and creativity it demands, the way ingredients can transform into something beautiful and delicious. But it bothers you how easily your group takes advantage of your introverted nature, assuming you will handle all the work while they waste time. Even though they assumed right.

Your movements are fluid and practiced as you arrange the tomato slices on a plate, layering them with basil leaves and mozzarella. You drizzle olive oil over the top, your eyes scanning the recipe card to ensure you haven't missed a step. The boys' laughter grows louder, a grating background noise that you try to block out.

Next is the pasta. You move to the stove, where a pot of water is already boiling. Carefully, you add a pinch of salt before dropping in the fresh pasta you had kneaded and rolled out earlier, alone, while the boys had debated over an internet phenomenon you didn't quite understand. The dough had been soft and pliant under your hands, a therapeutic contrast to the chaos around you.

There's unspoken tension that rests between you and Spencer, you hated it; the way he chatted mindlessly to his friends about the new girl he was talking to while sitting directly across from you. Though had he not invited you into his group, you wouldn't have one at all. You try not to think about the times you cooked together, laughing and working as a team. Now, he's just another distraction, his carefree laughter blending with the others as if nothing has changed.

As the pasta cooks, you prepare the sauce, your mind drifting to thoughts of how different this class could be if your group were more cooperative. You imagine them working together, each person contributing their strengths. Maybe Spencer could handle the chopping, his energy focused on something productive. The other two, Douglas and Daniel, could assist with the stirring and plating. You could share a sense of accomplishment at the end, sitting down to enjoy the meal you had all created. But most of all, you think of how different it would be if Spencer was still the person you could rely on.

But reality is far less idyllic. When the timer beeps, you drain the pasta and mix it with the creamy tomato sauce you just finished. The rich aroma wafts up, momentarily silencing the chatter behind you. You plate the dish with care, wiping the edges of the plates clean and adding a sprinkle of fresh parsley for presentation points.

You bring a plate and a grading sheet to the front for your teacher, quickly jotting down the names of everyone in your group and retreating back to your kitchen.

The boys amble over, still laughing and shoving each other, barely glancing at the beautifully prepared meal in front of them. "Looks good," Daniel says offhandedly, reaching for a fork. You watch as they dig in, their appreciation for your efforts surface-level at best.

As they eat, you clean up the kitchen area, washing the cutting board and wiping down the counters. The boys are already talking about their plans for the weekend, seemingly oblivious to the time and effort you put into the meal.

You stand at the sink, running a cloth through the soapy water and scrubbing until the debris is cleared from each dish.

Suddenly, a shriek pierces the air, breaking through the usual clamour. You look up to see Douglas staring at the floor with wide eyes. "Fuck!" he exclaims, clearly startled at the tiny creature making its way across the tile.

Spencer huffs a laugh, "Dude, you're such a pussy."

Daniel immediately looks under the table, moving his feet around to try and crush the skittering arachnid. You liked food studies for the class itself, not the people that came with it. Every day felt like you were babysitting three overgrown children and feeding them when they cried.

"Stop that," You move quickly, intercepting Daniel's sneaker as he's about to squash it "How would you like it if someone 3000 times your size tried to kill you?"

Carefully, you approach the spider, your movements slow and deliberate. The spider is small, its delicate legs moving hesitantly over the cold tile. You kneel down, feeling the cool, hard floor against your knees. Your hands, still warm from working through the dirty dishes, are cupped gently around the tiny creature. The spider pauses, sensing the change in temperature, and then crawls onto your palm. You can feel its tiny legs tickling your skin, but you remain steady, lifting it carefully.

You stand up, cradling the spider in your hands as if it were the most precious thing. Without a word, you head towards the door, feeling their eyes on your back. "One sec," you say over your shoulder, your voice calm and measured.

Pushing open the heavy classroom door with your shoulder, you step into the hallway. The fluorescent lights overhead buzz softly, casting a stark glow on the linoleum floors. Each step you take echoes through the empty corridor, the sound bouncing off the lockers that line the walls. You walk briskly but carefully, mindful of the fragile life cradled in your hands.

The school feels different in this moment- quieter, almost serene. You pass by classrooms where students are absorbed in their lessons, their voices a low murmur behind closed doors. The air is cool, a faint draft seeping in from the main entrance at the end of the hall.

Near the exit, Kenny stands by his locker, shuffling through it with furrowed eyebrows, seemingly trying to find something. He's wearing a white long sleeve with a dark T-shirt over top. Kenny casts a quick glance in your direction then realizes it's you and turns his head completely, a smile forming on his face "Hey, what's up?"

You press your lips together, straight-faced. Your apron was still on and held the remnants from the meal you prepared moments before. Whenever you passed him in the halls or at the rink, he never brought up that god-forsaken dinner with your step-dad and though you didn't thank him directly, you were grateful.

"Whatcha got there?" He asks "You smuggling drugs?"

You hold up your cupped hands, revealing the small spider inside. Kenny's eyes flicker to the spider, then back to you, his smile growing wider. Without breaking your stride, you push open the heavy doors, stepping into the crisp winter air, Kenny follows you in tow, abandoning his locker.

"Can I name it?" He asks to which you nod. "Is it a guy or a gal? I guess you can't really tell... how about Ainsley? Yeah? That seems gender neutral."

The world outside is blanketed in snow. The cold bites at your cheeks, making them sting. Snowflakes drift lazily from the sky, their delicate patterns glistening as they catch the light. You walk carefully, mindful of your steps, until you reach a spot where the snow is undisturbed. The ground crunches softly underfoot, the fresh snow giving way to your weight.

Your eyes land on a little alcove in the brick exterior where the snow seems less harsh. Standing in the little nook, Kenny close behind, you open your hands and watch the spider crawl out and wiggle its way up the wall "Bye, Ainsley."

Turning slightly, you see Kenny standing there, his breath forming small clouds in the frosty air. "So what are you doing later?"

"Skating."

"Cool," He mutters "I could've guessed that." 

⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆

Even with your food studies group driving you up the wall, you could unwind at the rink though today you had the displeasure of not even putting on your skates thanks to off-ice training. The training center is bustling with activity, but you and Craig are in your own world, focused on the rigorous off-ice session Katya has planned. Sweat beads on your forehead as you complete another set of balance drills, your muscles burning from the effort. The cold air of the rink feels distant, replaced by the warmth generated from your exertion.

"Keep it up," Katya calls out, her voice steady and encouraging. "Remember, core tight, movements controlled."

You nod, concentrating on maintaining your balance on the wobbleboard. Across from you, Craig mirrors your efforts, his face set in determined focus.

Just as you're transitioning to the resistance band exercises, your phone buzzes in your bag. You ignore it at first, but it buzzes again, more insistently. Then again and again. Katya notices and gestures for you to check it. "Go ahead, be quick."

You nod, stepping off the balance board and grabbing your phone from your bag. The screen lights up with a call from your mom. A sense of unease washes over you—she usually doesn't call during practice. 

"Hello?"

"Baby, are you okay?" your mom's voice is laced with concern. "You haven't been answering my messages, are you okay? Are you safe?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you guys still have power?"

"What?" You furrow your eyebrows as you look at Katya who seems equally confused.

"Baby, the blizzard, do you have heat? Are you stuck inside?"

Your heart skips a beat "Hang on," You move the phone away from your ear and quickly make your way to the main entrance, Craig and Katya following close behind. Your heart skips a beat. You glance towards the windows of the training center, noticing the thick curtain of snow outside that you hadn't fully registered before. As you approach the doors, a sense of dread fills you. You push against the heavy glass door, but it doesn't budge. The snow has piled up, effectively blocking the exit.

There's shuffling on the other end of the line and you hear Todd's loud voice boom through "WHATEVER YOU DO, DON'T PANIC," The volume of his words was ironically not helping to soothe you.

Katya, ever calm and composed, takes charge. "Let's not panic. There should be emergency protocols for situations like this. I'll call the facility manager."

"YOU ARE GOING TO BE JUST FINE, KIDDO," Todd's trembling voice sounds out on the other end, it eventually breaks down into quiet sobs. 

You nod, but the knot in your stomach tightens. "I can't get out," You mutter into your phone, voice distant.

"Oh, baby," Your mom says, her voice filled with fear. "Are you safe? Is there anyone with you?"

Both your mom and Todd began to talk over each other, you couldn't make out what they were saying, it was all too loud and incoherent for your ears. Every time you tried to get a word in, they would speak again and cut you off. 

"Yeah, I'm fine, I gotta go. Love you," You said before abruptly hanging up and shoving your phone into your pocket, dragging your hands down your face. While you loved your mom, you weren't sure you could stand to listen to Todd in the background cry and babble about a situation you would definitely survive. 

As you stand by the door, trying to process the reality of being snowed in, the muffled sounds of the hockey team filter through the hallway. Their practice must have just ended, and within moments, they burst into the corridor, their voices loud and energetic, a stark contrast to your stifled nature.

The team is a whirlwind of motion and noise, their camaraderie evident in their playful shoves and shared laughter. They notice the snow blocking the door and, for a moment, pause to take in the scene. One of the players, Mark, lets out a low whistle. "Well, would you look at that?"

"Are we snowed in?" Stan asks, eyebrows furrowing as he takes off his helmet.

Another player, Liam, chuckles and shakes his head. "Guess we're having a sleepover at the rink tonight, boys!"

There's a ripple of laughter and a few mock groans, but overall, the team seems to take the situation in stride. Some of them reached for their bags to call their parents or text their friends about the situation, but the majority seemed comfortable with the situation aside from the few who had made plans.

To you, this was hell on earth.

This almost felt like some kind of ethereal punishment for a deadly sin you weren't aware you committed. Amidst the light-hearted jokes, you notice Craig's boyfriend, Tweek, reacting differently. His expression is tense, eyes wide with concern. He pushes through the group, his anxiety palpable. "We need to get out of here!" he exclaims, his voice rising above the din.

"Tweek, it's okay," Craig tries to reassure him, stepping forward. "We'll figure it out. We're safe inside."

But Tweek is already at the door, pushing against it with all his might. "No, we can't just stay here! We have to get out!" His efforts are frantic, the panic in his movements echoing fear. 

The other hockey players watch, a mix of amusement and concern on their faces. "Calm down, Tweek," one of them says with a laugh. "We're fine. It's just a little snow."

But Tweek isn't listening. He keeps shoving at the door, his panic growing with each failed attempt. You can see the strain in his muscles, the desperation in his eyes. Craig moves to his side, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. "Tweek, stop. You're going to hurt yourself."

Tweek's panic only intensifies. He raises his helmet high above his head and smashes it against the door with a loud, resounding crash. The noise reverberates through the hallway, each impact like a hammer blow to your nerves. "We have to get out!" Tweek screams, his voice breaking with desperation.

His movements become more erratic, his thrashing more violent. He swings the helmet back, and for a heart-stopping moment, it looks like he's going to hit you. You instinctively duck, stumbling backward just in time to avoid the blow. The adrenaline surges through your body, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Tweek, stop it!" Craig yells, his voice strained as he tries to grab hold of him. Tweek's thrashing is wild, his kicks and swings dangerous to anyone close by. "You're going to hurt someone!"

Stan and Jason join in, trying to wrestle Tweek's helmet away from him. "Let me go! We have to get out!" Tweek's voice is raw with panic, his eyes wide and unfocused. His kicks are powerful, each one aimed at the door with the intent to break it down.

You manage to slip away, the fear and chaos driving you to find safety. As you back away, you see Craig finally manage to wrap his arms around Tweek, trying to hold him still. "Tweek, please! Calm down!"

Stan and Jason struggle to restrain Tweek's flailing limbs, their faces tense with the effort. It takes all three of them to subdue him, their combined strength barely enough to contain his panic.

The sight is both heartbreaking and terrifying. Tweek's screams are a raw expression of his fear, each one piercing through the air like a bullet to the skull. "We can't stay here! We have to get out!" His words are a desperate mantra, repeated over and over.

You slip away, your steps quick and unsteady as you make your way back to the training room. The hallway feels like it's closing in on you, the echoes of Tweek's screams still ringing in your ears. Your heart is still racing, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

The training room is a welcome refuge from the chaos. You push the door open and step inside, closing it behind you with a shaky breath. The familiar sights and smells of the room offer a small measure of comfort, a stark contrast to the panic outside.

You sink onto the bench, trying to steady your trembling hands. The cold air from the rink seeps through the walls, but you hardly notice. The adrenaline is still coursing through your veins, your mind replaying the chaotic scene over and over.

Maybe this was hell.

Maybe you have hit your head while training and died, your eternal torture was to be trapped in a rink with the hockey team while they slowly developed cabin fever- well, some faster than others. 

You couldn't make sense of how some of the boys on the team had been laughing at Tweak, the whole thing felt shell shocking to you and made you nothing short of uncomfortable. It didn't ease that your phone was still blowing up with notifications from your mom and Todd. 

New Message- FIFA Man

FIFA Man: Hello 👏

FIFA Man: What's up 👆 buttercup 🌼

FIFA Man: Have you frozen already? 🥶🥶🥶🥶🥶

FIFA Man: It's oky 😭🙏😱😰😨😓😥

You: I know

FIFA Man: Pls stay calm 😌 and dunt panic 🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

You: I'm not

FIFA Man: Awesome 😎sauce 🥫

FIFA Man: Text ur mom 🤰 pls 🙏

FIFA Man: She ❤️ you 🫵

New Message- Mom

Mom: Please be careful 

You: Okay

Mom: Stick with Craig

Mom: He can keep an eye on you

You: I can take care of myself

Mom: I know but it's hard to be alone sometimes

You: Okay

Mom: Stay with Craig pls

You: Okay

Mom: Eat something and stay warm

Mom: I love you

You: Okay

You pull your headphones from your bag, the soft clink of the metal pieces a comforting sound. Your hands are still shaking slightly as you untangle the wires and plug them into your phone. The familiar weight of the headphones settles around your ears. 

Scrolling through your playlist, you search for a song that will help drown out the echoes of Tweek's panic. Finally, you find it- a familiar piece that you often use for practice. The first notes are a balm to your frayed nerves, the melody wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

You stand, taking a deep breath and letting the music guide you. The first few steps are tentative, your movements still shaky from the adrenaline. But as the music flows through you, your body begins to remember the amicable routines. The soft thump of your feet on the mat becomes a grounding rhythm.

It wasn't like you had anything better to do. Your only friend was trying to bring his boyfriend down from a panic attack, you didn't have anyone else to text or call, the best you could do was keep practicing. 

Your arms rise gracefully, fingers tracing patterns in the air as you begin to dance. The music swells, and you lose yourself in the motion. You spin, the world blurring around you, but here, in this moment, you are in control.

The music's tempo picks up, and so do your movements. You leap, feeling the air rush past you, your muscles stretching and contracting in a familiar, comforting pattern. The focus required for each move pushes the fear and anxiety to the back of your mind. Here, in the dance, there is only the present moment.

Your routine takes you across the room, each movement fluid and precise. The tension in your shoulders begins to ease, your breathing becomes more even. 

But as you come out of a turn, something catches your eye. You stop abruptly, your heart skipping a beat. There, just inside the doorway, stands Kenny. He's leaning against the frame, watching you with an expression of quiet admiration. His presence is unexpected, and it startles you out of your reverie.

You pull out your headphones, the sudden silence almost jarring after the music. Your breath comes in quick, shallow gasps, and you can feel your cheeks flushing with a mix of exertion and embarrassment.

"What are you doing?" You ask, eyebrows drawn.

He straightens up, a small smile playing on his lips. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just... wow. You're a really good dancer."

His words catch you off guard, and you feel a rush of warmth at his compliment. You've always known Kenny to be overly warm and friendly, but this feels different, more personal. You look down, suddenly shy, the confidence of your movements evaporating under his gaze.

"I'll leave, you can go back to dancing-

"I'm fine," You snatch your bag from its spot beneath the bench and move past him, trying to keep the contents inside whilst moving and fumbling to zip it up. He turns and watches you walk away. You can feel his sharp blue eyes on the back of your head though you pretend you can't.

You find yourself needing space again, the earlier panic still a tight knot in your chest.  Seeking solitude, you head to the far end of the hallway, where the cold seeps in through the cracks around the door. It's the furthest point from the bustling group of hockey players, offering a much-needed reprieve.

You pull your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them for warmth. The chill sinks through your clothes and down into your bones, but the solitude is worth it. You slip your headphones back on.

From your vantage point, you can see the boys on the hockey team gathered together, their faces illuminated by the dim, flickering lights. They're laughing and joking around, their voices a stark contrast to the tension you feel. Their easy camaraderie is just about alien to you, it's a grand display of all of the social connections you can't navigate and don't particularly want to.

Andrew and Brendan are in the center, animatedly recounting some story, their hands gesturing wildly. The others are gathered around them, grinning and chuckling at the tale. Even Tweek, who had been so panicked earlier, seems to have found some measure of calm in the familiar company of his friends.

Despite your best efforts to remain unnoticed, you can't shake the feeling of being watched. Glancing up briefly, you see Kenny, looking over at you. His gaze is steady, curious, and imploring. You quickly look away, pulling your knees closer to your chest and adjusting your headphones, hoping he'll lose interest.

You close your eyes for a moment, letting the music wash over you, the soft melody blending with the distant sounds of laughter. The cold against your back is a sharp contrast to the warmth you see in the group ahead, but for now, it's what you need.

In this quiet corner, you find a fragile balance between trying to disappear completely and actively making yourself as small as possible. 

It was just you repeating 'I'm not here' in your head over and over again until you felt like you were back in your bedroom. 

Kenny catches your eye again. His gaze is warm and concerned, but it's the intensity of his focus that starts to grate on you. You shift uncomfortably, squirming beneath your skin. Why does he keep looking at you like that? It's not fair that he can just stand there, laughing with his friends and casually putting you at such unease. 

His concerned expression, his small smiles, they all feel like a spotlight on your vulnerability, and it irritates you. You're grateful for his kindness, but at this moment, it feels like an intrusion. You don't want to be watched, especially not now, when you're trying to hold yourself together.

Despite the music in your ears, the warmth of your anger pushes through. You bite your lip, trying to keep your frustration in check. Confrontation isn't your style, especially not in a situation like this. Instead, you lower your gaze, focusing on the floor in front of you, hoping he'll take the hint and stop watching.

Minutes pass, the cold pressing in on you, but the warmth of your irritation keeps you from shivering. You keep your eyes averted, trying to lose yourself in the music, but it's hard to shake the feeling of being under scrutiny.

You glance down at your phone, scrolling aimlessly through the same old messages and apps. No new notifications, no one to text or call. The sense of isolation tightens around you, a familiar but not unwelcome companion.

You move slightly, hoping to remain unnoticed, but Kenny spots you. He nudges one of his teammates and points in your direction. The others glance over, curiosity flickering in their eyes. You feel a pang of discomfort, wishing you could blend into the wall behind you.

The power cuts out suddenly, plunging the rink into complete darkness. The hum of lights and machinery is replaced by an eerie silence, broken only by the initial startled exclamations of the boys. Panic sets in quickly among them, their voices rising in a cacophony of fear and confusion.

"Hey, what happened?"

 "Where's the light switch?" 

"I can't see anything!"

"Where's Ryan?"

"IT'S OVER FOR US!" 

The boys' shouts echo off the cold, now pitch-black walls, amplifying their anxiety. You hear them stumbling around, their movements frantic and uncoordinated. Amidst the chaos, the coach's voice rises, trying to regain control.

"Everyone, calm down! Stay where you are! We'll figure this out." Trevor emerges from his office, Katya close behind in a desperate attempt to calm the scrambling teenagers. 

His attempts to soothe the team are met with limited success. The boys' fear has already taken hold, and their nerves are frayed by the unexpected blackout. Their shouts blend into an indistinct roar, making the air feel thick with their collective unease.

You remain where you are, calm and still, a stark contrast to the agitation around you. The darkness doesn't frighten you; it's a familiar companion. You hug your knees tighter, your breathing steady, focusing on the feel of the cold floor beneath you and the muted sounds of the storm outside.

The flash on the smartphones flicks on one by one, flooding the dark corridor with striking light that catches the contours of each and everyone's face. It really looked like you were in a horror movie. Like some creature would scuttle down from the vents overhead and start picking you off. 

You hear the clatter of skates and equipment as the boys scramble in the darkness, their movements chaotic and uncoordinated. Someone bumps into the boards, eliciting a string of curses, while another trips over a stray hockey stick, the thud echoing loudly.

The coach's attempts are met with limited success. The boys' voices overlap, each one trying to be heard over the others. The cacophony is overwhelming, a tempest of fear, confusion, and partial anarchy.

But you remain an island of calm amidst the storm. Seated on the cold floor by the door, you pull out your phone, the faint glow of the screen a small comfort in the darkness. You scroll through your camera roll, it doesn't have much in it aside from pictures of your baking and your dog.

You swipe through pictures of your dog lounging on the couch, playing in the park, cuddling up to you in bed, and napping in a sunbeam. His velvet black fur and soulful eyes pull your mouth into a little smile.

Around you, the boys' panic continues unabated. Some of the boys had put their phones face down so the flash would flood the hall, the beam slicing through the dark, casting erratic shadows on the walls. The light only adds to the confusion, making the shadows dance wildly.

They seemed to care a whole lot more than you did. When the focus was torn from you, you were more than happy.

"That's my stick!" 

"Stop pushing!" 

"Get off my foot, asshole!"

"I fucked your mom." 

"Coach, what do we do?"

Craig stood behind Tweek, arms wrapped around his waist to keep the flailing boy away from the doors while screamed and thrashed even more as everyone was soaked in darkness. 

Stan's voice cuts through the chaos, steady and authoritative. "Guys, seriously, just listen to Coach. We'll be fine."

"Fuck off, Stan!" Another one of the boys yells, throwing his glove at Stan who looks around, more confused than anything else.

Just as the chaos seems to be subsiding, a new commotion erupts. Two of the boys, still on edge from the blackout, start arguing. Their voices rise sharply above the murmur of the group, quickly drawing everyone's attention.

"Watch where you're going, idiot!" one of them shouts.

"Back off, man! It was an accident!" the other retorts.

Before anyone can react, the argument escalates. In the dim light of the scattered phone flashlights, you see them shove each other, their silhouettes clashing. The noise level spikes again as the boys around them try to intervene, shouting and pushing to break up the fight.

"Guys, stop it!" 

"Cut it out, both of you!" 

"World star!"

The coach's voice booms out, authoritative and commanding. "Enough! Break it up! Now!"

Despite the coach's orders, the fight continues to escalate. You can hear the thud of fists meeting flesh, the grunts of exertion, and the scuffling of skates on the concrete floor. The atmosphere is charged with aggression and adrenaline.

You remain seated on the floor, your back against the door, your phone still in hand. The pictures of your dog are a stark contrast to the violence unfolding nearby, but you refuse to let it pull you in. You swipe to another photo, this one of Toothless lying on his back, belly exposed, inviting a rub. The memory makes you smile faintly, a small bubble of calm in the midst of the storm.

Katya, who has been watching the scene unfold, finally steps in. "Hey! Knock it off!" She pushes through the crowd, grabbing one of the boys by the arm and pulling him away with ease despite her small frame. "This isn't helping anyone. No one is going anywhere until the storm is over!"

The coach joins in, pulling the other boy back. "That's enough! Both of you, sit down and cool off. Now!"

Gradually, the fight is broken up. The boys are separated, still glaring at each other, but the physical confrontation has ended. The others backed away, giving the combatants space while muttering amongst themselves.

In the aftermath, the rink feels even colder, the tension palpable. The coach continues to bark orders, trying to restore a sense of order and calm. The boys settle into an uneasy silence, the adrenaline slowly fading.

Kenny approaches cautiously, his figure a shadow against the faint glow of your phone. He sits down beside you, maintaining a respectful distance but close enough that you can feel his presence.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asks, his voice gentle, almost hesitant.

You glance at him briefly, then return your gaze to your phone. "You already are."

Kenny sits next to you in silence, the air around you thick with the weight of unsaid words. The rink remains dark and cold, the boys' voices now a distant hum, but the tension between you and Kenny feels palpable. He inches, as if he wants to speak, but holds back, unsure of how to break the silence.

You continue to scroll through your phone, your attention seemingly absorbed by the photos of Toothless. The light from your screen casts a soft glow on your face, highlighting your calm demeanor. To Kenny, you seem perfectly content in your own world, a stark contrast to his thoughts running rampant.

He sneaks glances at you, hoping to catch a hint of interest or an opening for conversation. His mind races with things he wants to say, compliments about your taste in music, questions about your life, anything to bridge the gap between you. But each time he opens his mouth, the words die in his throat.

Kenny sighs quietly, trying to steady his nerves. He likes you-your quiet demeanour, your calm in the chaos, the way you find solace in the small things. Yet, sitting here beside you, he feels an invisible wall between you two, one he doesn't know how to breach.

You don't seem to notice his internal struggle. Your focus remains on your phone, fingers swiping through photos with an absent-minded grace. Kenny watches you, trying to discern your thoughts, but your expression gives nothing away.

In the dim light, he shifts again, his hand brushing lightly against yours. He pulls back quickly, an apology ready on his lips, but you don't react. The fleeting touch, barely there, feels like a missed opportunity, another moment lost to the silence.

He wants to tell you how much he admires your calmness, and how he finds your presence soothing despite the chaos of the night. He wants to share more about himself and find common ground beyond brownies and shared stillness. But the more he looks at you, the more he feels that you're perfectly content without his words.

He swallows hard, the silence stretching on. The darkness around you seems to amplify the distance between you, making every unspoken word feel heavier. Kenny leans back, resigning himself to the quiet. 

The silence between you and Kenny stretches on, but it's not uncomfortable. In fact, you begin to appreciate that he doesn't try to fill the quiet with conversation. His presence is steady and unobtrusive, a rare quality that makes you feel a sense of ease you hadn't anticipated.

As you sit there, tapping through photos of Toothless, a thought occurs to you. You glance at Kenny out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way he seems content to simply be there, sharing the space with you without any expectations. It's a subtle but meaningful gesture, one that sparks a sense of gratitude.

You reach into your bag, rummaging around until your fingers find a small tin. You open it, revealing a collection of homemade caramels, each one carefully wrapped in wax paper. The sweet, buttery scent wafts up, a comforting aroma that reminds you of the calm moments spent in your kitchen.

Wordlessly, you hold out the tin to Kenny. He looks at you, surprise flickering in his eyes before he smiles. The genuine warmth in his expression makes your heart lighten. 

He looks at you, surprised, but then his expression softens into a warm smile. He takes a piece, unwrapping it carefully and popping it into his mouth.

"Thanks," his voice gentle and appreciative. "I can't believe you make this stuff yourself," he mutters so quietly that you barely catch it. 

You nod. The caramel's sweet aroma mingles with the cold air, creating a moment of shared solace. Kenny's presence feels less like an intrusion now and more like a comforting anchor in the uncertainty of the blackout.

The two of you sit there, enjoying the quiet and the caramel, finding a sense of peace and connection in the midst of the chaos. His willingness to simply be with you, to understand your world without needing to change it or rush to fill the gaps of silence that you sought.

As you both sit there, the shared silence grows deeper and more comfortable. Kenny shifts slightly beside you, then turns his head to look at you. "What are you listening to?" he asks, his voice soft and genuinely curious.

You open your eyes and look at him, your heart pounding a little faster. For a moment, you're unsure. Letting someone into your world, even in this small way, feels daunting. But Kenny has been trying so hard to be there for you, to understand you. His persistence may have been chipping away at you.

You hesitate, staring at him, weighing the risk. Kenny's expression remains open and patient, his eyes encouraging but not pressuring. Taking a deep breath, you make a decision.

Maybe, just this once you would take the chance. 

"Do you want to listen?" you ask quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Kenny's face lights up with a genuine smile. "Hell yeah."

With a small nod, you reach up and gently remove one of your headphones, offering it to him. He takes it, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment.

Kenny puts the headphones in his ear, and you press play on your phone, restarting the song. The soft, calming melody fills the space between you, creating an intimate bubble of sound. You glance at him, trying to gauge his reaction. His eyes close for a moment as he listens, softly nodding along to the rhythm. "Who is this?"

"Daughter."

"Daughter," he mutters out loud to be sure he remembers "Sweet." 

You nod, feeling a warm sense of satisfaction. Sharing this small piece of your world, there was a little sense of pride that came with the fact he liked your music. 

The soft music envelops you, each note weaving a sense of calm that contrasts starkly with the chaos around you. The hockey team, still restless, starts to settle in for the night. Their earlier laughter and jokes have quieted down, replaced by a more subdued atmosphere. Some of them are sprawled out on the floor, using their jackets as makeshift pillows, while others lean against the walls, whispering in low tones.

"Always wondered what you were listening to," He says absentmindedly "Can you send me this playlist?"

"You don't have my number."

"I think there's a pretty easy solution to this." He was terrified to mess this up. 

His words hang in the hair for a moment and you meet Kenny's eyes, seeing the hopeful yet anxious expression on his face, and your heart softens just the slightest.

You reach into your bag and pull out a pen, holding it in your hand as you hesitate. You press the marker to his skin, pausing for a moment as you feel the weight of the moment. Then, with careful strokes, you begin to write your number on the back of his hand where it rests on his knee.

As you finish, you glance up at Kenny, though he's too busy staring at your handwriting to meet your gaze. "Awesome," He mumbles, staring down at it in awe.

A/N: this chapter felt too slow for me so expect some tweaks in the next one

[neptune-writez]

kisses w/ the south park boys!

notes 🌷 gn!reader, this is js pure hcs! characters all aged up to 16+! no cartman

stan m. | kenny m. | kyle b. | craig t. | tweek t. |

STAN M.

his kisses are fast, mostly pecks.

he prefers to kiss your cheek more than on your lips, he thinks it's much more easier ( in truth he's just flustered. )

he also likes to caress your cheek, or trace shapes on it, then surprise you with a small smooch

absolutely melts when you kiss him back, he breaks into a giddy smile. and sometimes one kiss leads to another, leading to tons of kisses on his face, accompanied with stan's dark red face.

he doesn't get a lot of kisses in public, since there's always a chance that he might puke all over you without warning.

it has happened over three times.

You don't really mind it, but Stan's reactions & apologies are the cutest.

KENNY M.

his kisses depends on his mood.

sometimes it's short but lingering kisses, to long and passionate kisses, always becoming make-out sessions.

he just can't have enough of you!

every time he kisses you, he leaves a strong scent of weed on you.

he thinks it's cool. it takes you all your might to tell him very politely that it stinks.

when he kisses you on the lips, you can clearly feel his chapped lips against yours. the texture is dry but feels heavenly in ways you can't explain.

he often swings his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to his body.

claims it's a habit of his.

he isn't afraid to kiss you on the lips in front of his friends, especially cartman.

no bcs why should he not?

KYLE B.

his kisses are full of comfort and assurance.

very awkward at kissing, even after a long time.

his face goes a shade of pink when you kiss him back. he never succeeds at playing it cool. ( he tries to! )

but his kisses are top tier. they feel like heaven above.

he likes to kiss your forehead.

even if you have bangs, he pushes them up just to kiss you, much to your protest.

won't admit it but he loves kissing you. wants to let you know that he loves you 24/7

is a bit embarrassed about kissing you in public.

his hair sometimes gets in the way of kissing you.

it's hilarious.

TWEEK T.

his kisses are electrifying and always unexpected.

when I say he doesn't know how to kiss, I mean REALLY.

he shoves his whole face forcefully into yours when you both kiss.

sometimes he just does it out of nowhere, and it doesn't give you any time to prepare for it.

he pushes you down when he leans in, and he falls right on top of you, squishing you in the process.

he says its accidental but at some point you've gotten suspicious that he's been doing this out of fun.

another way is that he clasps your face with both his hands on either sides to keep you in place when you both kiss.

it's cute and much more safe!

there's always a 'mwah!' sound when you both part lips.

there's always a scent of coffee lingering in his mouth too.

his favorite place to kiss you are your lips, obviously.

you prefer to do the kissing.

CRAIG T.

his kisses are short but meaningful.

a hugs >> kisses kind of person.

he completely has a blank expression when he kisses you. but you can see some blush on his cheeks if you squint closely enough.

giggles like a schoolgirl when you kiss him back.

doesn't do it in front of you but waits when you leave then he starts giggling hysterically.

his lips are quite smooth.

you can feel his braces through his kisses.

he likes waiting for you at your locker and kissing you as a greeting.

it's sweet, actually.