#post covid stan x reader

[summ3rg4l]

May I request a platonic x reader for the main boys. Where they learn the reader is a girl somehow but before they were all under the belief she was a boy and that she didn’t care to much about her gender to correct them (like a Haruhi Fujioka situation)

I really didn’t know what to write so it’s pretty short tbh

“Wait wait wait! You’re telling that that this whole time we’ve been hanging out with a chick!?”

Cartman stares at you completely perplexed on how he didn’t see that you were a girl the whole time.

“Mghf Mghf Mghf?”

“Ewww Kenny…”

“I just didn’t think it was that important.” You shrugged dismissively and put your hands into your pockets.

“NOT THAT IMPORTANT!?!? How do we know that you’re not a spy that the girls sent to get more information from us!” Cartman narrows his eyes.

“That’s retarded fatass.” Kyle rolls his eyes and crosses his arms

“Yeah why would the girls send a spy?”

“I don’t really see why my gender matters.”

“Guys come here for a second.” Cartman ushers for the other three boys to follow him away from you. After a few seconds you hear Kyle yell. “We’re not killing (name) Cartman!”

“It’s the only way kahl! We have to kill her before she gives away all of our secrets!” He looks back at you “Hey (name). Nothing going on here just chatting Y’know.”

[brook1yn-baby]

poison

pc!stan oneshot <3

characters; post covid stan x fem reader

warnings; dom/sub themes, fem+male masturbation, exhibitionism kinda, praise+degradation, petnames (sweetpea, baby), daddy kink, smut with aftercare 💋

a/n; this is for the anon that requested pc stan nsfw i’m dumb and accidentally deleted the ask 😪 thank u for requesting, it made my day teehee

stan hated his job.

okay, maybe that was a little dramatic. his job was…bearable. the pay was good, hours were flexible, he was basically his own boss and he worked from home. an online whiskey consultant wasn’t exactly a job he’d expected to be doing, especially so late in his life, but he was definitely passionate about it. or was it the alcohol he was passionate about? he could never quite tell. even so, he didn’t dread getting up every morning to answer calls from businessmen who had nothing better to spend their money on than copious amounts of whiskey.

but, right now, as he sits by his desk in his office on the phone to some guy who just can’t decide between two different bottles, he hates his job. and no, it wasn’t because the guy had spent the past twenty minutes mumbling to himself about the price and still hadn’t made a decision. it was during those twenty minutes that stan decided he hated his job. because during those twenty minutes, you’d walked into his office, sat on the sofa across from him and spread your legs, revealing that you were wearing nothing under your skirt.

god, stan really, really hated his job.

he couldn’t speak. even if he could, he wouldn’t be allowed. dirty-talking his pretty little tease of a girlfriend while on the phone with a client probably wasn’t the best look for the company. still, he just couldn’t pull his eyes away from your slow, gentle fingers as they slipped over your chest, stopping to pinch your nipples. the look on your face was enough to get him hard: bottom lip between your teeth, eyes half-lidded, staring right at him. there was probably the beginning of a smirk somewhere in there too, but stan was too busy watching your slutty display to check.

you knew for a fact this would end in a punishment. sure, stan loved how needy, how desperate you were for him, but always said the same thing when you were begging him to touch you; ‘good girls are patient. y’gonna be a good girl for daddy?’

usually, you’d whine, but nod and leave him be until he decided you deserved a reward. today was different. you weren’t gonna give him the chance to say anything. you’d woken up and his side of the bed was empty, you’d eaten breakfast, lunch and dinner alone, you’d gone grocery shopping and even carried all of the bags inside by yourself. he’d been in his office all day, and you were sick of it.

so, as your finger runs slow circles on your clit and his eyes darken, you know you’ve finally gotten his attention. the guy on the phone must’ve said something important, because stan has to drag his eyes away from you for a second, mumbling as he quickly types something on his computer, sighing. you giggle at his frustration, but stop promptly as he gives you a certain look; one that says ‘i’m not done with you yet’.

you take it in your stride, pushing a single digit into yourself, letting out a hushed whimper and grinning up at him. you knew it was taking everything in him to not throw his phone down and fuck you stupid. instead, he palmed at his cock through his pants, his face stoic. when you slip another finger in though, your moans a little louder now, his breath catches in his throat. he continues talking to the man on the other end of the phone, but there’s an edge to his voice, like he’s about to snap any second and hang up. you fuck yourself with your fingers, slowly, letting him watch you adjust to the feeling. fuck, you were still so tight. stan’s practically sweating now, unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out. he’s so hard it looks painful. he grabs his tip, wiping the precum down his length and pumping his dick as he stares at you, almost in awe of how much of a whore he’d turned you in to.

you would’ve never pulled this stunt when you first started dating.

he smirks as you bring your other hand back to your chest, swirling your fingertips around your nipple, grabbing and pinching, desperate for more stimulation. it wasn’t enough, and he knew it. you both knew it. it wasn’t him.

stan must’ve reached his breaking point as he cuts off the man on the phone. “look, dude, it’s not hard. get the macallan.” his hand leaves his dick to type something, then returns to jerking himself off as soon as the guy agrees and says he’ll order that one. he exchanges quick, strained pleasantries before basically throwing his phone onto the desk.

he doesn’t move for a few seconds. you stop your movements, removing your fingers and sitting still on the couch, full of adrenaline and lust.

then, he laughs. it’s quiet, and with his head down, you can barely hear him. he leans back in his chair, cock still upright and dripping as he looks down at you. “you wanna tell me what the fuck you’re doing?” his words are sharp and harsh, and it’s obvious he’s pissed. still, you give him the least nervous smile you can muster. you weren’t used to taking the reigns for once, or atleast trying to. stan was usually the one to instigate anything in your relationship, and as much as you liked him being soft with you, you needed something else. it was like an itch you couldn’t scratch- you knew he was capable of going harder on you, you just had to push him. luckily for you, this seemed to do it.

you hum quietly. “nothin’.”

that makes him laugh again. but it’s louder, a lot louder, and there’s an air of anger to it. “nothin’, huh?” he nods gently. then, slowly, he stands up, looking down at you still sat cautiously on the couch. his dick twitches against his stomach as he watches you from this new angle. he leans down slightly, hand coming to your jaw to hold your head towards him. “did i tell you to stop?”

you could’ve come from just the way he looked down at you. still holding his gaze, you bring your fingers back to your cunt, pushing two digits back inside. you rest your head on his hand as you fuck yourself, fast and messy, desperate to reach your high before he can take it away from you. he brushes a few stray hairs from your face, rubbing your cheek gently as he coos at your soft whimpers- it was so humiliating, and it made you even wetter. “there’s my obedient little girl.” his voice is quiet. he watches you intently, his cock still throbbing against his stomach. it was so difficult for him to just watch you and not touch himself.

it’s not hard to finish; you clench around your fingers, legs shaking as he pets your hair, whispering obscenities through your orgasm. your breathing is heavy when you finally settle down, as is stan’s. you go to remove your fingers, the warning signs of overstimulation already prominent, but stop when you feel stan’s large hand wrap around your wrist, keeping yours in place. his other grips your chin a little tighter. he tuts gently. “you wanted to be a little slut,” his voice is low and it sends a shiver down your spine, “so i’m gonna treat you like one.”

his hand moves slowly, coercing your fingers inside of yourself and you let him, curling them to reach your sweet spot, all while letting out strained moans. he ignores your whining, simply repeating his earlier words; you had decided to act like a whore, and you were gonna be punished for it. by now, the line between pain and pleasure had blurred. you couldn’t tell whether the ache in your core was from exhaustion or another building orgasm, but it didn’t matter anyway. you force your eyes open when he takes his hand from your chin, watching through blurry vision as he jerks himself off and pushes your fingers deeper inside of you. it was so intoxicating, so embarrassingly delicious. you were a squirming mess next to him, babbling as your second orgasm hit you like a freight train.

you can barely speak as it passes. you’re begging by this point, soft whimpers and pained ‘please’s, though you’re unsure whether you’re begging for it to stop or for him to finally fuck you. stan seems to get the message, wiping the stray tears from your pink cheeks and removing his hand from your wrist. “s’too much baby?” his words are soft, but the grin on his face is smug. you nod pitifully, sniffling, legs still shaky. suddenly, his hand snakes up your spine, coming to grab at your hair and pushing you back on the couch. his hands pull you up to your knees, leaving you face down and arched. “too fuckin’ bad, slut.” you hear his voice behind you, then feel his cock slap against your pussy. you’re dripping and sore from your first two orgasms and you’re not sure if you can handle a third, but it’s blaringly obvious you don’t get a choice as he pushes into you.

it stings, and leaves you tearing up again as he bottoms out, but fuck, does it feel good. it’s like he’s made to fuck you. your whole body ached, and you were pretty sure your legs were about to collapse, but as he slams into you, you can’t focus on anything but how big he feels inside of you. he was already close, his movements sloppy and harsh, but he was making the most of this. he needed to make sure he taught you a lesson.

your hands grab onto anything they can; you grasp at the couch, trying to hold yourself up as each of his thrusts seem harder than the last. he clutches at your hips with strong, thick fingers, squeezing slightly as he nears orgasm, urged on by your muffled moans and tears. you manage to come again, but it’s overshadowed by the pain searing through your whole body. you let yourself fall forward into the soft cushions on the couch, stan now fully supporting your bottom half as he pushes in a few more times, bottoming out with a strained grunt when he finishes inside of you.

as soon as he pulls out, you feel disgusting. you’re sticky with sweat and come, shaking and tearing up on the couch. you hear him recollect himself, feel the space next to you dip as he takes a seat, panting. his attention is immediately on you. he places a soft hand on your leg, rubbing gentle circles on your thigh. you sit up shakily, wiping your eyes as he gestures for you to sit on his lap, arms wide. you don’t hesitate to crawl onto him, settling comfortably with your face buried in his neck, whispering teary apologies. he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, shushing you softly. “s’okay, baby,” he mutters, still holding you close to his chest, “just wanted daddy’s attention, didn’t you?”

you nod, his hand reaching up to brush through your hair. it was true; you weren’t used to him being so busy with work, and it was weird not being around him all day. you had gotten so comfortable in your domesticated daily routine with stan that when he wasn’t there when you woke up, or when you ate, or when you were out running errands, everything felt wrong.

he puts two fingers under your chin, pulling you up to look at him. his expression softens as he wipes your tears, placing a tender kiss to your lips. “i’m not angry, baby. just can’t let you act out without punishing you,”

you understood. this was the first time you’d gone against his rules and, as incredible as you felt during, it was gonna be hard coming down after that. fortunately, stan was there to help you through. “gonna go get a cloth to clean you up, okay baby? be a good girl and stay here,”

he slides you from his lap back to the couch, bending down to press a final kiss to your forehead, then getting up to leave with a proud grin. he’d definitely taught you a lesson.

[princess-kennys-fanfics]

Can you please do some sub Stan x Dom fem reader?

Sub! Post COVID Stan x Dom! Fem! Reader

Warning(s): NSFW, slapping, degradation, light bondage

Note: Dom readers are not something I have much experience with, so I hope this turned out ok!!

Listen I just feel like submissive Stan would be a kinky mother fucker I don't make the rules. I didn't add too much since it wasn't in your request tho ---

Stan was feeling extremely riled up, and you could tell. They way he looked at you with pleading eyes and ever so slightly biting his lower bottom lip. You two had planned to go out that night. However, things might have to take a turn in the way that he was acting. You had worn something that night that just made him really turn on. While you were expecting some kind of reaction from him, it definitely wasn't this.

"Oh, come on, Stanely. You can't be all hot and bothered already, hm?" You put a finger to his chin as he looked at you. His mouth was watering at that point. If he didn't have any sense, he might have drooled. You raised an eyebrow and dragged him by his shirt collar to your shared bedroom.

Practically throwing him onto the bed, he played there the only support he got was from his elbows weakly. You climbed on to of him, smirking. You unbuckled his belt, slowly taking it off of him. You quickly grabbed both of his hands, wrapping the belt around his wrists.

"Good luck trying to grip onto anything tonight hun, because your horny ass decided to ruin our cute little date" You lightly slapped him in the face. He continued to give you a pleaing look. You could hear soft whimpers escaping his lips, desperate for more.

You scoffed, undoing more of his pants to reveal his erect cock underneath his underwear. You backed up his body a bit more towards the headboard, attempting to have him sit up more with support.

You pulled down the bottom half of the article of clothing you were wearing, along with your underwear exposing yourbdripping cunt. You slowly lowered yourself onto him, grunting at the feeling. You eyed Stan, seeing him gasp and letting out a choked moan.

"Fuck- fuck you're so tight" he breathed.

You rubbed the side of his cheek. "Aww, thanks, sweetheart," you cooed out to him. You positioned yourself to where you felt comfortable with him inside of you. Looking at him for his approval, your legs began to bounce, allowing him to be pumped in and out of you. As a traction, Stan's hips bucked into you as you came down on him.

You bit your lips, letting out soothing moans as you heard Stan quickly become a moaning mess. You giggled at his reaction. What a sensitive man. It was what made him the most attractive to you.

You continued pumping in and out of him, feeling your legs become tired from riding him. Luckily, Stan's hips that were bucking harmonically with you were coming in handy. You slowed down your leg bouncing allowing him to service you. As he worked on pumping into your cunt, you admired his features. How his eyes scrunched up as he let out little whimpers and moans, his face flushed from all the excitement.

You leaned in and kissed him passionately, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He continues pumping into you faster. You could tell he was about to reach his end, and so we're you.

With your legs continuing to bounce with him once more, you felt your walls clench around him, riding out your orgasm. Stan kept going a bit longer before reaching his climax as well. Out of breath, you got off him and rolled over onto the other side of the bed.

"So.. are we still going out tonight?" He asked in between his pants. You reached over to fumble with the belt tied to his wrists. "Hmm... nah, I think we're good staying in for tonight. We've already had our fun, " you winked at him.

[4raykage]

they are the same :D

[hoosurdaddy]

Post Covid!Stan's group: Riding their face.

Pairing: post covid!stan marsh x reader, post covid!kyle broflovski x reader, post covid!eric cartman x reader, post covid!kenny mccormick x reader.

Triggers: 18+, oral (f receiving), face sitting.

--

This would 100% be Stan's favourite way to devour you bc he can be lazy sometimes and with you sitting on his face is ideal. He'd hold you up, giving your slit long licks and straight up tongue fuck you as he purposely brushed his nose against your clit. You'd be so confused as to how he breathes? Some way, some how his fingers would play at your core, and it would be crazy when you shout his name from your orgasm. Stan would be smiling up at you with wet lips.

Kyle would do this when you both have been dating for awhile and are comfortable with each other but once it happens, oh gosh, he would go all in. Kyle would be so good, remembering what you liked and just had the right amount of teasing before giving into you completely. With your hips rolling and your moaning above him, Kyle would get so hard, especially when you got close; Kyle would happily flatten his tongue against your pussy and let you roll your hips against his tongue and cum.

Just like Stan, this is the perfect position for Cartman to be lazy in and just bury his head into your pussy. He would be thrusting his own hips air, imagining that he was fucking you while his tongue moved deeper and deeper into you. He would be grunting beneath you as you tugged and gripped his hair, moving him to exactly where you wanted him to be.

Kenny would be gripping your thighs and holding you down against his mouth and wouldn't let up even when you tried to move away from him when the pleasure got to him. Kenny would have his lips wrapped around your clit and wouldn't let you up until you eventually were screaming his name and grinding against his mouth.

[southparkxreader]

pairings:  post covid ! kyle broflovski, kenny mccormick, stan marsh x reader. trigger warnings : age gaps . reader is in her middle twenties , everyone else is forty nine . specific uses of she/her pronouns ,  uses of y/n + l/n ( get that interactive fic extension loaded , lads  ) .  disclaimer : i haven’t written anything like this in a long time .  only interact with this post if you are 18 or above , minors are not welcomed on my blog . small intro of a future series im going to start in a fic form , putting this out there to see if anyone is interested and to get a taste for how alive the fandom is .

stay with me ... fanfic series being kenny’s assistant.

kenny has a nasty habit of losing track - it can range from his paper work , to notes when he’s going on one of his tangents and just needing to let it all out before it fleets from mind, to as simple as forgetting what day of the week it is : forgetting dates, scheduled events, that sort of thing. he really cannot coordinate his own life if it meant saving it, he’s just got too much going on, ten fold when it comes to his work -

it was kyle’s idea, actually - listening to kenny apologize yet again for forgetting one of the days they were supposed to meet up on. he sighs, exasperated, annoyed, any rational person would be when plans kept going haywire because someone couldn’t even bother to turn up “have you thought about a personal assistant ?” leaning on his kitchen counter, watching the new snow fall as he leaned into the phone “it’ll help. if it doesn’t, i’m just going to stop making plans with you.”

is he being serious ? no, but still - he’s on thin ice.

kenny starts interviewing a week later, because it really isn’t a bad idea - he’s ashamed that he never thought of it sooner. the applications come flooding through, who wouldn’t want a front row seat to a genius like him ? the things they’d get to witness first hand, new discoveries, seeing his mind in person and with a front row seat. it was too good to be true, nobody in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to put their application through.

after about a dozen interviews, he’s just about ready to give up.

then,,,, you come in - it was like he took a shot of vodka with how you snapped him awake - his eyes trail over you for a moment, he could see straight away how nervous you were - despite how much you were trying to hide it. cheeks were clearly flushed, fidgeting with your fingers before you held out a hand towards the man, smile shaky but bright as you did your best to put on a brave face, a little tremble in your hand as anxiety shot through you didn’t go missed, either  “its a pleasure to meet you, mr mccormick, truly, it’s an honour. ” 

well, right then and there, kenny thought you were just the sweetest little thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. he had his mind made up before your hands locked together, his large palm swallowing yours so easily as he sent you a dazzling smile, if any of his friends were in the room they’d make faces, sending him an accusing glare , they know the look too well and it’s anything but innocent “it’s a pleasure meet you too, mrs. l/n. you flatter me too much, please, sit - let’s begin, it says here that you - “

he has to at least pretend to be professional.

you got the phone call later that night with confirmation that you got the job.  did you dance around your apartment, scream the minute the phone call ended ? absolutely you did. now you have a chance to actually enjoy work, to do something with your life rather than dragging yourself through it, to work along side the brightest mind of their generation.

he called kyle up the minute things were confirmed. telling him it was the best and only good idea he'll ever have again. to which he responds with a "fuck you... wait, what are you talking about ... why do you sound like that?" kyle knows, he knows kenny too well not to know.

when stan, kyle and kenny next have a meet up, it’s an annoying shocked and open surprise that kenny graced them with his presence, for having the ability to turn up on time. after a lot of shit talking, kenny finally falls into speaking about you, a little too much, stan and kyle have no choice but to want to meet you.  

when they do ... ?

oh... oh they get it . 

[vanoilette]

𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄 ..

somehow catching the eye of both kyle and stan—which formed into a bit of a competition between the two friends in order to get your attention. though you found yourself both holding deep admiration for them, as well as a smitten crush; just like they had on you. so, you had agreed to let them both court you.

and lovely it was! even if the competition still stood, they were both very different in the romantic aspect. — stan being more of a care free fun experience. he took you out to bars, where kyle brought you nice flowers, and nice romantic dinners.

[princessconsuela120]

❀DAD BOD❀

— ❀

Summary: Durning a sweet moment between you and your husband, you tell Stan his dad bod will soon come in handy.

Warnings: teeth rotting fluff.

Author’s Note: I love him so much actually, I thought of this randomly, still in my baby fever phase. send in requests!

— ❀

DOMESTIC BLISS, as many would refer to the interaction taking place between you and your husband, Stan. It was very blissful in fact, the rain hammering on the windows by your bed, but you happily wrapped in your husbands arms, giggling at the tv screen in front of you.

You pulled out your phone to read the text notification that lit up the screen as Stan’s eyes were skillfully trained on the movie.

Kyle : Have you told him yet?

You smiled to yourself, looking over at your husband with nothing but love, before responding.

Y/n : not yet, but soon.

“Are you texting Kyle again?” Stan asked, a hint of playfulness in his voice as you nod. “Tell him you’re my wife not his. He can go find his own wife.” He teased, taking your phone away. You both chuckled as he held the phone above your head so you couldn’t reach.

“Oh come on, he’s both of our best friends. He just misses you so dearly.” You teased back, making Stan scoff.

“Then he should be texting me instead.” He grumbled. You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing that Kyle knew the same information that you did, and that he was simple waiting for you to spill before he texted his best friend again. You sighed, snuggling into Stan’s chest.

“We are seeing him soon.” You said, making him scoff.

“Exactly, so he can wait to see you.” He teased, kissing your head softly as you chuckled “Speaking of, you need to decide my outfit for today.”

“Oh come on now, can’t you decide?” You asked, hoping to stay in his arms as long as possible.

“We both know I can’t, now here, I’ll give you a nice little fashion show.”

He got up from the bed, careful to not have you tumble over the other side as he did, and he went to take his shirt off. You couldn’t help but admire him from where you were on the bed, now laying on you stomach as you looked at him with lovestruck eyes. The scuffs of black hair littering his chest, the thick stubble on his chin, which was overdue for a shave. His black locks that he had managed since you were kids. And his beautiful baby blue eyes that perfectly brought together his entire body. His dad bod, that you had to admit was one of your favorite things about him.

“Oh stop that would you?” He grumbled, making you raise an eyebrow at him, meeting his stern eyes in the mirror.

“Stop what? I’m not allowed to admire my handsome husband?” You argued, and he shook his head, pointing a finger at you through the mirror.

“No actually, I’m the one who admires you remember?”

“Oh, how dare I.” You say teasingly, getting up to come stand behind him, hugging him from behind.

“God, I look just like my dad.” He grumbled, holding his stomach.

“I love your little dad pooch.” You couldn’t help but hold the pudge on his stomach, it brought you so much joy. No matter how he thought he looked, Stan had to admit hearing the things you loved about him he couldn’t help but love too. Yet still, he scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes. “No really, maybe mine will match in a month or two.”

Stan rolled his eyes, thinking you were teasing him for his tummy. It took him a few minutes of looking down, and playing with your fingers that wrapped around him from behind, before he looked up to meet your eyes. His eyes were widened, and widened even more when he saw the smirk on your lips.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at you. You looked back at him, smiling. He pulled away, and you giggled as you sat back down on the bed. You could tell his head was racing a mile a minute, but the teasing was just too fun. Soon enough he smiled back, getting on bed in front of her, grabbing her hands.

“Do you mean that…” he stuttered, suddenly unable to form words. You smiled at him teasingly, his cheeks now a bright blush red.

“I don’t know Stan, what do I mean?”

He shook his head, trying to form words to shake out. He still was completely flustered, and his eyes wondered all over your body.

“Are, are you, are we.” He gulped, and you squeezed his hands. You looked him straight in the eyes, lifting his chin slightly so he would look back into yours, his baby blues holding so much love and worry, and joy all in one.

“Use your words Stanley.” You whispered, not being able to hold back the slightly tears that brined in your eyes when you saw a single tear drip down Stan’s face. You wipped it with a smile, and he took a deep breath.

“Are you pregnant.” He asked softly, practically whispering, unable to speak from the adrenaline he felt. You nodded, and his eyes lit up as his hands held your face.

“Oh wow, ohh…wow!” He practically jumped from the bed, smiling widely as a few more tears of joy dripped down his cheek. God he was such a baby. “I’m pregnant! Well, you’re pregnant, we’re pregnant?!” He shouted, and you stood up, coming to stand by him.

“Yes my love.” You said back, and he let out a happy sigh.

“Oh my god, oh wow, I, wow.” He pulled you into a tight hug, running his fingers through your hair as he held you close. “I love you so much.” He whispered against your hair, pulling away to kiss you.

It was, domestic bliss entirely. It was lovely, and wonderful, and Stan was extremely giddy to be able to go to see his friends tonight, to tell them all the good news. Well, Kyle already knew, but Stan let that slide. He was just too damn happy. You two had attended a welcome home party for your best friend Kenny at Kyle’s house, and the entire night Stan’s arm didn’t leave your side. It was as if his hand was permanently glued to your stomach. He couldn’t wait to tell each and every person there about the new baby. It was actually quite adorable, and even though he would t shut up about it no one could say they were annoyed by it. Even Eric Cartman, who was reluctant to admit that he was excited to have a baby in the group to spoil.

[remersgf]

- masterlist ❣️

smut: 💥

fluff: 🫧

doug remer:

💥hazy

🫧remer taking care of drunk!reader blurb

🫧💥remer headcanons

💥please

💥remer going down on you blurb

🫧remer x reader on the team headcanons

🫧remer getting the silent treatment headcanons

🫧💥remer with a size kink headcanons

🫧drunk!remer x reader blurb

💥sucking remer off blurb

💥watching remer masturbate blurb

💥fill ‘er up!

🫧remer taking care of sick!reader headcanons

💥perv!remer blurb

🫧remer with a goth!gf headcanons

matt stone:

💥birthday boy

💥his toy

💥voyeur!matt blurb

stan marsh:

💥pc stan marsh nsfw headcanons

💥pc stan marsh age gap blurb

🫧sleeping positions with pc stan marsh

🫧pc stan marsh dating with an age gap headcanons

💥showing up to pc stan marsh’s house blurb

🫧going to the liquor store with pc stan marsh blurb

damon albarn:

💥pretty thing

💥the best

💥damon albarn nsfw alphabet

💥tease

💥caught

💥jealous

[southparkhcsocs]

You guys have to forgive me for a while!

I'm re-making my schedule while I have in-laws visiting!

But I have exciting new content coming!

Nearing the end in SITM 😭

A mini comic prequel to SITM, Bet

Head canon collaboration with @princessconsuela120

A new Cartman x reader NSFW comic, Acceptance! (Patreon exclusive!)

A new PC!Kyle x reader SFW (mostly) comic, Councillor!

Fallout AU drawing almost finished!

I've also added more benefits to my Patreon!

So yeah, I'm getting busy and I need to work around work for it but I will update soon!

[summ3rg4l]

May I request a platonic x reader for Kyle and Ike (or just Kyle) with a cousin reader who has Chunibyo but is still very loving and kind?

I had to look up what that was so I apologize if it’s not what you wanted. But it’s givinggg kaidou (I think) so I based reader off that also you didn’t specify the gender so I made reader a girl

CW: swearing and racist jokes (Jewish)

Kyle is nine in this, reader is in high school and Ike is 5

I was originally gonna add more of Ike but I had already wrote most of it (at literary 1 AM) and the copy and past was being a little bitch

Your aunt Sheila drops you off at her house to stay for the week since your parents are busy. You get out the car to be greeted by your little cousins Kyle and Ike running up to you hugging your legs “Why hello there my minions.” You say confidently making your voice a bit deeper to sound more intimidating while smirking. The laugh at you not taking you seriously “What are you laughing at! If you don’t stop now I’ll have to use my secret power on you two.”

You put your arm up to scare them into submission showing off where your power is hiden. You laugh ‘evilly’ “Oh (name) dear, I hate to interrupt you playing with the boys but can you help me with dinner? Gerald isn’t here right now.” Sheila walks outside with a few groceries in her hands “Ye-yes mam.” You give Ike and Kyle one last look before you walk into the house.

“Minions! Dinner is ready.” You bust into Kyles room to alert them of the food being done. They get up from the spot they were playing in and walk downstairs to the table. “Hey (name) can you walk with me to the bus stop tomorrow?” Kyle asks you with his mouth of knishes some of it falling out. “Sure min— Kyle I’d love to walk you to school.” You smile as innocently as possible to get Aunt Sheila off your trail ‘Whew I almost let my secret identity out.’ You think to yourself mentally sweating.

The next day you hold Kyles hand as you walk down the road to drop him off at the bus stop. You see three other boys standing there, one of them has a blue hat with red poof ball and black hair, another one is fat and has a teal hat with a yellow poof ball, the last one is wearing an orange parka. ‘Hm what an interesting group of kids..they better not mess with my minion or they’ll live to regret it.’ You stare at the boys suspiciously “Uh (name) why did you stop walking..?” Kyle looks up at you confused. You just stand there in silence having internal dialogue. Kyle lets go of your hand and walks over to his friends.

It takes a while for you to actually notice. Your eyes widen once you do and you run over to where Kyle went “Minion! You shouldn’t run off like that, what if I’m not there to protect you!” You look at Kyle angrily. The fat kid starts to laugh  hysterically “BAHAHAH MINION!? GOD JEWS ARE SO WEIRD DUDE!” You stare at the kid for a second absolutely shocked that he said that. You’ve never encountered a person that was this openly racist. “Shut up fat ass!” Kyle yells at the fat boy angrily. His voice brings you back to reality.

The boy continues to laugh loudly “Hey little fat ass boy.” Your voice stops sounding so ‘anime’ like when you talk now. The kid stops laughing and looks at you “If I hear one more thing like that from you, your mom won’t be able to recognize you and you won’t be able to eat solid foods ever again. I bet that makes you real sad huh, you won’t be able to eat all those cheese puffs and fried chicken. How sad.” The boys (including Kyle) look at you silently. You obviously shocked and maybe scared them a little bit.

The school bus pulls up to where we all are “That’s for you guys. Have a nice day at school minion.” The boys silently get on the bus and you hear the fat boy mutter s quiet ‘weak’ before the doors close.

…

…

…

Waiting for something to happen?

[brook1yn-baby]

sulk

pc!stan oneshot <3

characters; post covid stan x fem reader

warnings; dom/sub themes, daddy kink, petnames (sweetpea, baby), no actual written smut, legal but large age gap (reader is early 20s, stan is early 40s), alcohol+smoking, all that yummy stuff xoxo

a/n; what the freaking freak 200 likes on my first post?!?!? u guys r the best love u my little cuties 💋 also pc stan brainrot is taking over smh

maybe it was the fact you’d had to get up earlier than usual, or because you’d had back-to-back lectures all day, or even the closing shift you’d had to work last minute, but god, you were whiny tonight.

stan didn’t even remember what time it was when you let yourself into his apartment, dropping your backpack on the floor by the door and just collapsing onto the couch next to him. he’d been enjoying his usual nighttime routine; a few glasses of whiskey, one too many beers, a pack of cigs and a little pot, watching reruns of his favourite shows from when he was younger. you called it depressing once, and he agreed, but found too much comfort in pattern to change his ways now.

you lay face-down on the couch, curled into yourself and groaning into the old throw pillows as stan chuckled from above you. “tough day, sweetpea?” his large, rough hand rested gently on your head, thick fingers running through your hair and untangling the knots you’d gathered from the stress of school and work. his tone is teasing so you don’t reply, instead huffing quietly and nodding your head, still stuffed into the couch cushions. stan’s other hand holds a newly-lit cigarette and a half-drank can of cheap beer, and he seems more focused on these than you.

his arm comes to rest on your waist as another episode of ‘terrance and philip’ begins, the intro playing softly while you shuffle closer to stan’s side, immediately comforted by his warmth and size. you rest your head on his thigh and let him watch his show for a little while. the two of you didn’t even have to talk; you both just liked admiring the other sometimes. however as he adjusted in his seat, pulling you up to sit on his lap, your focus switched to the can of beer in his hand.

stan was a heavy drinker. he wasn’t proud of it, but he’d accepted it. you, on the other hand? you’d reached the legal drinking age a few years prior and, although you’d drank before turning 21, it seemed you still hadn’t outgrown that lightweight phase, or your competitive streak. your first time drinking with stan, he’d made a stupid joke about how he could drink you under the table. of course, you tried, but he was right. you’d ended the night with your head in the toilet bowl as he held your hair back, rubbing your back and laughing, stopping a few times to take another sip of jack. after that, he’d been very hesitant to let you drink with him again- mainly because he had to clean up the vomit you left on the bathroom floor while you sat in the doorway, crying and apologising, even after he told you it was fine.

so when he finally noticed your eyes on his drink, he sighed, looking down at you. “what?” you can hear the grin in his deep, raspy voice. if he’s fed up, he’s not showing it. “what, what?” you reply, an innocent smile lining your lips. you knew if you asked for a drink he’d say no, so teasing him until he gave up was your next best option. he scoffs, leaning his head against the back of the couch, shaking it softly. “come on, sweetpea. we both know what you want.” you shift on his lap so you’re straddling him, hands resting on his chest, that innocent smile on your face now sly. “i have no idea what you’re talking about, stanley.” his eyes find yours. he sits up slowly, one hand resting on yours while his other still holds his can.

“don’t get smart with me, kid. you want something, you ask for it.” his tone is stern, but quiet. he watches you intently while you squirm under his gaze, the beginnings of a smirk playing on his lips. you try not to catch his eye as you feel your face turning a soft pink colour. stan found it so easy to humiliate you, to turn you into a blushing mess on his lap with just his words. he had to admit, dating you had given him a pretty big confidence boost. he wasn’t the best looking guy, but from the first time you’d met him, you’d flirted with him like he was. it was almost laughable- a young, pretty thing like you, batting her eyelashes up at a 40-something-year-old with a beer belly and a constantly grumpy personality. it was endearing, to say the least.

your eyes switch back to the can of beer in his hand, but firm, controlling fingers grasp your cheeks, pulling your face back towards stan and away from his drink. his tone is more dominating now, like he’s telling you to be obedient; “use your words, sweetpea. tell daddy what you want.” he watches you through half-lidded eyes, waiting for you to follow his orders.

you rest your head on his chest, still looking up at him. “can i please have a sip?”

he chuckles softly, looking down at you. “see, was that so hard, baby?” you give him a happy grin. you reach out to take the can from him, only for him to hold it out of your reach, tutting. you sit up, pouting at him. “did i say yes?”

you sigh in defeat, groaning when he brings the can to his lips and takes a long gulp, humming softly in satisfaction as he swallows. “god, that’s good. could you get daddy another beer, sweetpea?” he looks at you with a knowing grin on his face. you roll your eyes but hop off of his lap, making a point to trudge to the kitchen unhappily, hearing him chuckle to himself from the living room. you could easily take a swig of this new can before you give it to him, but decide against it. you weren’t in the mood for a punishment tonight.

you pass him the unopened drink, sulkily sitting next to him as he mutters ‘that’s my girl’, taking the can and cracking it open. you keep your eyes on the television, arms crossed and an exaggerated pout on your face. stan looks down at you, laughing lightly at how petty you’re being, then rests his arm around your shoulders, trying to pull you close to him. stubborn as ever, you stay sat up firmly. you hear him sigh from above you, then take a sip from his can, before it’s directly in front of you. he nudges you gently, gesturing for you to have some. you look up at him quickly, grinning, happy he’s finally given in. before you can reach for it, he pulls it back slightly.

“what d’you say?” he waits for you to reply, holding the drink tight as your hands wrap around the can, on top of his. you give him your best puppy-dog eyes. “thank you, daddy.” pressing a quick kiss on his cheek as he chuckles, his grip on the drink finally releases and you take a long gulp. he pulls you back into his lap as you relax into him, his hand immediately finding its way back to your hair, fingers brushing through slowly as you curl up into him.

[princess-kennys-fanfics]

Princess Kenny's Contract

Hello! Welcome to Princess Kenny's Fanfics. I am here to deliver you South Park x Reader content! So here's my rules regarding that <3

I only write for the South Park adults (including Post COVID !!) I don't feel comfortable aging up/down the characters to younger ages like 18-19 either.

I have the ability to write fluff, angst, and smut. Yes, you heard it here folks.

Regarding that however, I don't feel comfortable writing about non-con/rape. Slight dub-con is fine but nothing beyond that. There are certain fetishes/kinks I may not be too keen on writing either, but I'm mostly open to anything!!

Please only request x reader, that is all I feel comfortable writing.

I write for fem, gender neutral, and male readers. please specify the gender of the reader and if you have any types of quirks you want to add to the reader as well.

That's all I can really think of for now. I'll add on more if I feel the need to, but for now I think this is good :p

Bye bye!~

-Princess Kenny

[4raykage]

@nirami-blogin

[hoosurdaddy]

Post Covid!Kyle x Reader x Post covid!Stan. (Drabble)

Triggers: 18+ Smut, sexy photos, lingerie, fucking, oral (f receiving), threesome, does this count as poly?, post covid.

—

Post Covid!stan would definitely have a Polaroid picture of you, topless, and post covid! Kyle hands covering your tits, in his wallet//car, and wouldn’t care who sees them. He’d happily show everyone who would listen (expect Kyle would get angry). Between Kyle and Stan, they’ve an entire photo album of sexy pictures. There is no range in these photos. Such as your fingers running through Kyle’s hair as he ate you out, or Stan holding you down by your hips as he fucked you. Their favourite is their girl (you) posing in lingerie, or else your cute face post orgasm.

:)

[skyewritesstuff]

all too well (stan's version)

my masterlist.

entry 3 in my (taylor’s version) songfic series.

summary:  you said if we had been closer in age maybe it would've been fine...and that made me want to die.

pairing: post-covid!stan marsh x younger!reader

fandom: south park

warnings:  oh god. toxic relationship. toxic age-gap relationship (20s/50s). domestic violence (throwing things). language. afab reader.

notes: based on all too well (10 minute version), the song and the short film, by taylor swift. this has been beta read, and fun fact, this is the first fic i've written that got a perfect score in grammarly. it has been beta read. :)

word count: 2.9k

“If we had been closer in age maybe it would’ve been fine.”

That was the moment that set you off. It was like a match was lit and dropped into a brush pile doused in kerosene. It simultaneously made you want to rip your skin from your bones and scream in agony, but also retaliate towards the older man standing in front of you…so that’s exactly what you did.

“You burned down your family’s farm. You killed your sister and your mom, and you ruined your own life just like you fucking ruined me! You told me you loved me. You took my virginity. You told me you wanted to marry me and now you’re saying our ages are a problem? That’s bullshit, Stan and you know it.”

“Fuck you. Fuck you. Get the fuck out of my house. We’re done. Go find you some guy your age that can drink to tolerate your batshit crazy ass, because my body has built too high of a tolerance to even be able to get buzzed enough to be around you. I’d rather go back to using my hand on the nightly basis than listen to you scream and cry at me like a fucking kid.”

You held it together despite internally wanting to crumble. You wanted to fall to your knees and sob and beg him to stay and beg him to love you, because despite everything, you still loved him.

“Fine.” You walked over to the counter and grabbed your belongings and your keys before turning to head out of the door. You then turned around and faced him, “That’s the funny part about all of this, Stan. My age is a problem now? Cool, fine, because you know what? Years will pass and I’ll get older…but your little girlfriends, side pieces, and fuckbuddies? They’ll all stay my age.”

With that, you walked out and slammed the door, heading to your car and exiting his driveway quicker than you’d ever pulled out of a location in your life. You tried to hold your tears in as you drove, but they started quickly pouring out and didn’t stop until you found yourself sitting on the floor of the shower in your apartment hours later

The water falling from the shower head had started running cold a long while ago. You couldn’t tell if you were still shaking from the tears or from the cold drops that fell onto your bare skin, but you pulled your knees in closer to your chest as you sat there overwhelmed by everything. This wasn’t your first fight with Stan. Things were never fully stable. He’d gotten mad at you when you asked him why he dropped your hand and stepped in front of you when a tall woman with black hair and glasses approached him at the class reunion that he’d invited you to.

“You dropped my fucking hand! What am I supposed to do with that?”

“I didn’t even fucking notice. What are you talking about I ‘dropped your hand’?” 

You shuddered again at the memory as it kept playing on in your mind as if you couldn’t shut it off even though you desperately wanted to.

“They are all older than me.”

“But like, what are you talking about?”

“I feel so out of place. You’re the only one that makes people comfortable.”

“You’re making this about you.”

“They won’t even look at me!”

You finally mustered up the strength to stand up, get out of the shower, and wrap yourself in a towel. It was removed the moment you dried off enough to put on your pajamas, consisting of one of Stan’s t-shirts and a pair of athletic shorts. Your heart ached as the cotton fabric went over your head and onto your body, hanging loosely on your frame.

You hadn’t even bothered to tell anyone what’d happened. You hadn’t from the start, so why start now. Your friends would be sympathetic and supportive, but you also knew of some friends, but more so family, that would be telling you ‘I told you so’. 

Your mother had warned you from the beginning, telling you that he had no business being with someone that was young enough to be his daughter regardless of whether or not you were both consenting adults, which had been your main defense all along. He was able to connect with your dad on sports, alcohol, and music and had even made the connection that they might have played each other in football in high school. That thought made you feel a little uncomfortable, but it wasn’t enough for you to see the concerns that even your dad silently harbored about this relationship.

You shook your head, drying the ends of your hair with a towel before curing up to lay down on your side, feeling ashamed and embarrassed that you’d even let this go on for as long as you had. There were so many signs and you’d missed them all, wearing what you could only describe as rose tinted glasses to see the world through the lens of the hope of true love.

You stayed on your side, curled up, until you glanced at the alarm clock to see the time. It was then that you were brought back to a few months prior, naked and curled up on your side in his bed as he pulled you into his chest. You felt dirty and ashamed. It was one thing for you to use your body to stop an argument and to pose a distraction from harsh words and glass bottles being thrown around, but it was another for him to go along with it. You wanted him to not take you up on your offer, coming to you with the proposition to talk about the problem at hand instead of just fucking to forget. The memory made you feel sick to your stomach…they all did.

The only thing that hurt worse than the bad memories were the ones that radiated any glimmer of hope into the spiral of your relationship. You baked cookies together at one in the morning all because you just wanted to. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you mixed the ingredients and got them prepared and hoisted you onto the counter to kiss you while you waited for the oven timer to go off. He told you all about his childhood…from his friends to the farm…information you’d never think of sharing, let alone weaponizing. You told him about yours and how you’d always dreamed of falling madly in love, getting married, and having children as to drop some kind of hint to him. He told you he loved you not even a week later when he’d come over to spend the evening with you, but the kiss that followed tasted of whiskey, planting the seed of doubt in your heart that you’d work hard to push back down every time you said those three words to him.

The good did not outweigh the bad, but your mind couldn’t wrap around the idea that someone could be that kind only to be so cruel. How could someone love you and then destroy you with such simplicity? Unless, they never loved you at all. You shook your head, trying to shake the thought out of the forefront of your mind. That could never be the case, but what if it was?

You were jarred from your thoughts by the sound of not knocking, but pounding on your door. You jumped, unsettled by the noise. You walked to the door, peering through the peephole only to see Stan standing on your doormat, partially slumped over on the door, using his closed fist to pound on the door. He apologized, begging you to answer the door through slurred words all because he loves you and he made a mistake.

You opened the door and Stan all but fell inside, stumbling and grabbing a hold of a coat rack and your arm. Several items fell off of the coat rack as he picked himself up. You rolled your eyes watching him scramble to pick them up out of the floor, almost falling again.

“Just leave it.” You replied coldly.

“N-No, I did this…I fucked it up like I fuck up everything else.” he handed you a beanie and a hoodie and you took it into your arms with a deep sigh of frustration.

His hand landed on a red knit infinity scarf. He picked it up and took a good look at it. “You had this on when we went to see Shelley and mom. I-It matched the flowers.”

You took a hard swallow, pursing your lips, “Yeah…” Your mind went back to the red carnations Stan placed on his sister and his mother’s graves that day. Regardless of his behavior, you couldn’t help but pity him when it came to his family. It was a tragedy and there wasn’t anyone that could deny that.

Once you hung the articles back on the rack, you turned to Stan, who was leaning on the wall for support. He was more than obviously drunk, per usual. You cursed the availability of self-driving cars, but you doubt deep-down that his drunken state would’ve kept him from getting behind the wheel to try and keep you entrapped considering it was something that would ultimately benefit him. Despite his self-deprecating behaviors, Stan was the love of his own life. He was his own number one and there was no one that could knock him out of that position short of the bottle.

You crossed your arms over your chest, “What do you want, Stanley? You told me to get out of your house and that we were done.”

“I-I know…but…I couldn’t…I couldn’t let you leave. I love you, Y/N. I love you and need you, baby.” he slurred, reaching for you. You took a step back and rolled your eyes as he continued, “Alexa told me I needed to stay away from you, but I just can’t. I can’t do that. She told me to stay away from ‘that little girl’ and to find someone my own age, but I told her that you’re a woman and you’re mature. It’s fine. You know that, right? I’m not…I’m not worried about your age.”

You blinked, perplexed by his statements considering what he’d said earlier, “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

“Remember when Kyle said he didn’t know I had a daughter, but it wasn’t my daughter, it was you?”

“Yeah, and I remember your other friend stopping me at the bar telling me I needed to run too.”

The whole reunion felt like a fever dream, but the comments made by Kyle, as well as the man at the bar…a taller man with dark hair and tanned skin who was holding the hand of his husband who also looked at you with deep concern etched onto his features…stuck with you. You knew by their impact that you shouldn’t have let them go, but instead, you forced them to the back of your mind every time they’d reappear. You’d remind yourself that these people no longer knew Stan, because it’d been decades since their school years. The presence of a freshly twenty-something year old on the arm of a fifty-year old was everything an outsider needed to know about Stan Marsh.

“That’s a good idea…let’s run…let’s go to Vegas…let’s get married. I love you and I want you to stay with me.” he begged, this time dropping to his knees.

“Get up, Stan. This is ridiculous.” You said, extending a hand to help him up. He stood back up and walked closer towards you, putting his hands on your waist. Tears were welled up in his eyes and his face was flushed. You couldn’t tell if this was from the heat of the whiskey, emotion, or his history of having a sensitive stomach in times of high stress.

“I'm so sorry.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours. His lips lingered near yours and your chest tightened. Your love for the man in front of you was doing its best to fight off the anger and sorrow you were feeling as if you hadn’t been down this road before. This was a normal occurrence even if it wasn’t in the presence of a potential break up. Every fight ended like this. He’d get drunk, apologize, kiss you, fuck you, and then wake up the next day hungover. The fight would be long since forgotten.

“I can’t do this, Stan.” Your voice cracked, “I love you, but I can’t do this.”

“But you love me.”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough.” You spoke plainly, gently putting your hands on his chest to slowly push him away. Your stomach turned a little, knowing his past history of violence. He’d never hit you, but any nearby object was fair game to be tossed through the air in your general direction. You didn’t trust him not to hit you, and that should’ve been another red flag, but it also went ignored.

“But…”

“You took my virginity when we were both drunk. You lied about my age at the reunion until someone told you there was no way I was almost thirty. You’re basically unemployed. You drink all day and half-ass your job to the point where you lose clients quicker than you make money.” The more you spoke, the more the anger began to rise as you recalled all of the things you’d been ignoring for so long, “You’ve thrown full glass bottles of whiskey at me. You’ve thrown long neck bottles, shot glasses…basically anything you can drink your sorrows away in has been thrown my way on top of your phone, my fucking water bottle…anything with weight to it. You ruined my twenty-first by not showing up to my party and blacking out drunk in your own fucking bedroom, which made my parents hate you…”

“Your parents love me!” The rest of your points going ignored again.

“You really are oblivious as fuck, aren’t you? I’m dying inside, Stan. I can’t fucking doing this anymore. You have ruined me and I don’t know if I’ll ever be myself again. You said if we had been closer in age maybe it would’ve been fine…but I don’t even think you could hold a relationship with someone your own age. If Wendy wasn’t married, you would’ve left me that night and moved on to ruin her too…but I don’t think she would’ve given you the opportunity…because admittedly, she’s not young and fucking stupid like me.” You pursed your lips, taking a breath, “You couldn’t manipulate her the way you do me…the way you did me…because we’re done, Stanley.”

He looked at you, eyes glazed over, his brain taking longer to process what you’d said due to his state of intoxication.

“I loved you and I tried to be there for you. I tried to create a safe space, because fuck, no one’s done it for you for the last fifty some years and I thought you deserved it…but you just took advantage of it.” You said, shaking your head, “I hope one day you find everything you’re missing. I hope you go to rehab, because you need it. I hope you make peace with your father, because you need that too.”

“Fuck Randy. I fucking hate Randy. He’s…”

“He’s your dad and sure he’s fucked up over the years, but it’s not like you’re some saint either. You both have made mistakes. Go to therapy, get your shit together, and go find happiness…with someone who isn’t me…and is closer to your own age.” 

Tears had started to stream down your face rapidly and you hadn’t noticed. He stepped closer and reached up to wipe your tears away. You shook your head, reaching up to wipe them off yourself.

“I’ll go with you out to your car and program it to take you back home, but after that, I don’t want to see you ever again.”

“You don’t mean that.”

You nodded, “I do…and I’d normally say that I’m sorry, but I really don’t think I am.”

“I thought we were made for each other.” he paused, “Maybe another time…in another life?”

You shrugged. The sentiment was nice. It was pleasant to think about, but it was sadly not a reality. It was doubtful that your lives would ever cross again and it was unlikely that he’d change. In another life, maybe, but that wasn’t something you were even sure existed.

“I don’t know, Stan.” You said, wrapping your arms around your midriff.

“I love you.”

You didn’t say anything. You opened the door and motioned for him to follow you. On your way out, the red of the scarf hanging from the coat rack caught your eye. For a brief second, your hand reached up to take it, debating on dropping the knit accessory in the back seat of his car. You knew that this would just enable Stan to try and contact you again and begin this cycle in a never-ending loop like the article of clothing itself.

You wordlessly followed Stan to his car, programming it to drive him back to his home before helping him into his seat and closing the door. You backed up, watching the car start to pull out of the lot and head down the street as he exited your life for good.

It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well…